Author's Note: this one has a little something for everyone (including shoe fetishism, my specialty). Do you have the patience and self-control to allow the story to unfold?
***
Gavin gently brought the sole of his sneaker down onto Josh's basketball shorts. He gently teased the straining manhood beneath, making small circles with the ball of his foot. The zigzagged grooves of his tread gripped the shiny nylon material, sliding it over the swollen glans. Josh whimpered slightly and lifted his head off the glassy wooden floor of the gym to take in the sight of Gavin, towering above him, curls dampened with sweat framing the hard planes of his face.
"You are so fucking hot," Josh moaned, overtaken with disbelief that this moment had actually been realized. Gavin grinned and paused, leaning forward on his knee, his foot pressing into Josh's groin and sending surges of an exquisite pain shimmering at the edges of his vision.
"I know," Gavin replied simply, his thick eyebrows raising in sync with a casual flick of his wrist as if to indicate that--he try though he might--he simply couldn't help being agonizingly sexy to both genders. John smiled as he ran his hands up the mesh upper of the Adidas Next Levels that enveloped Gavin's feet and swooped up his ankles. God, it felt amazing to have one nestled between his legs.
Ever since the first time Gavin had stepped onto the basketball court with them on--months ago--Josh had been mesmerized by their tall, yellow silhouettes, uninterrupted by laces. They bent and bounced as Gavin dribbled and paced, the black outsoles mirrored in the court floor. Josh had found himself staring at them hypnotically as Gavin rested with his feet up on the bleachers, and had once even snuck his hands inside them while he was in the locker room shower just to feel the lining, still damp and warm from Gavin's efforts on the court, and to imagine his feet inside them, pressing into his aching erection.
But there were no furtive glances now. No secrets. Gavin dug his heel into Josh's stomach and raked it down to his crotch, catching the waistband of his shorts and pulling it below his cock, which impatiently sprang free. "You've waited long enough for this," he said with a slow nod. "Don't disappoint me."
Josh's slamming heart skittered over a missed beat as he wrapped his fingers inside the elastic band that stretched around Gavin's Achilles. He could feel the moist cotton of his tall black socks on his fingertips. "You mean I can--?" He scarcely dared to finished sentence.
Gavin put his foot back on the floor of the basketball court and thrust it between Josh's legs, the exclamation of the sole on the high gloss planks reverberating off of the high ceiling where the lights hummed in a steady excitement. Josh sat up, using Gavin's stony calf to pull himself forward where could now feel the knit texture of the sneaker's tall tongue on the underside of his shaft, the sensation driving him toward an inescapable end. Gavin leaned down and brought his face close to his, his breath warm on the bridge of Josh's nose. "Paint them."
Josh's back arched in response and his entire body thrummed with a single purpose. "Oh. My. God!" His voice buzzed off the flimsy walls of the fiberglass shower as he slammed his palms against sides and steadied himself in the stall. Jets of semen softly plopped to the floor and slowly swirled to the drain.
Gavin smiled at him in smug satisfaction before receding into whatever part of Josh's mind he crouched in, waiting for his next opening.
When Josh could finally keep his eyes from rolling back, his dunked his head beneath the shower's stream and watched as the last of his climax clung with jellyfish-like tendrils to the grille in the center of the floor.
How many times had he fantasized about Gavin? How many sperm had thrown themselves into oblivion for the hopeless cause?
He wrapped a towel around himself and padded down the hall to the kitchen, droplets still clinging to his legs and leaving a wet trail on the old hardwoods behind him. If his grandmother were still around, she would have had plenty to say about that. But then, she was probably already rolling in her grave with just how much her 1970s era ranch house had deteriorated since Josh had inherited. He hadn't touched a thing since her death--including a sponge or a vacuum. He barely even noticed the cobwebs that fluttered between the ceiling and the dusty rings that held the faded curtains.
He was scrolling through FaceBook and standing in front of the refrigerator, its harvest gold door yawning wide to reveal the darkened interior--since he had never bothered to replace the bulb--when a high-pitched squeal sliced the gloom of the house wide open.
"What the hell?" he murmured as he slammed the door to the fridge, condiment bottles rattling in the door. He cocked his head and turned in a slow circle in the center of the kitchen, eyes panning across the crumb-dusted, cluttered countertops as he struggled to hone in on the direction of the racket's source.
When he shuffled to the smoke detector in the dark hallway, his damp foot caught a pile of junk mail in the living room and sent a volley of blue and white envelopes across the floor. Swearing under his breath, he craned to look at the yellowed plastic disk on the ceiling, which did not so much as blink once to indicate that it held sentry over the house.
Thrusting his legs into a pair of jeans, he bounded down the basement steps where the piercing tone increased in its intensity, worming into his head and buzzing the inside of his skull. Josh could make out a foreboding red light atop a gray metal box affixed to the wall on the far end of the basement. He started to wend his way through the clutter, which was even more thickly deposited here than on the floor above, the incessant shriek in a gradual crescendo until he finally reach the box.
***
"Septic alarm," Gavin automatically volunteered. He leaned against the cash register counter as Josh related his tale from earlier that morning. Josh looked up from the stainless water bottle display he was unpacking with an expression of mild disgust.
"See? Now how the fuck do you just know shit like that?" The two of them had probably worked most of their shifts at the store together for the past three years, and the apparent breadth of Gavin's knowledge never ceased to amaze Josh...at least when it wasn't nagging him with a constant undertone of inferiority.
Gavin shrugged cooly. "I grew up in the valley, too. Just about every house out there's got one." He began to slide the bottles into an orderly row as Josh plunked vthem on the counter in succession.
"Yeah, well I didn't know anything about it. I just flush the toilet, you know? I didn't think I was supposed to have to concern myself with what happened after that." He crushed a sheet of bubble wrap into the empty box and kicked it across the carpet tile to the stockroom door.
Gavin chuckled as he logged into the register and scanned one of the bottles. "Come on, man," he countered, jabbing at the screen as he ran the pricing information. "You haven't concerned yourself with anything in that house ever. Who are you kidding?"
