O’Melissokomos
The Bee Keeper

It's Gotta Be the Shoes (mm mc ft)

by Purplebootsgywr

Josh had never seen Justin move like he was doing tonight.

The other people at the club had cleared a path for him, and Justin Timberlind danced magnificently in the center of the circle they had created. The lights strobed above, and the music boomed throughout the room, creating a beat that could be felt in your marrow. Josh was never that crazy about some of the strobe effects used at their favorite club, nor the volume of some of the dance music, and he squinted his eyes against both the visual and audio display. Justin couldn't have looked more at home.

Justin leapt and bounced as if he were being broadcast live from a pop music video. His feet barely touched the ground before he was off and moving again, legs pumping, the soles of his feet stepping so lightly they might well have been filled with helium. His arms moved in perfect rhythm with his legs, not only bending and stretching in time with the music, but serving to add momentum to his spins and to catch him when he dropped to the floor to twirl his body on one shoulder.

Josh Hartley could only stare. Justin was his best friend, with whom he'd grown up and regulated their chosen club for the past year. But why Justin, the dancer of the two, had never cut loose like this on the floor before tonight was beyond Josh.

At the end of the song, Justin struck a dramatic pose precisely at the final beat, resulting in a roar of cheers and applause from all the others at the club. A girl neither boy had ever seen before raced up and threw herself into Justin's arms, smothering him with sloppy kisses. Justin laughed and accepted them, thanking her as graciously as he could while peeling her off.

Josh was the only one not applauding or cheering Justin's performance. He just kept staring and puzzling over it. Justin was clad in his favorite shirt (or one of them anyway) which featured a snug-fitting black mock turtleneck collar and black stripes against a white sleeveless tunic. Practically all of Justin's shirts, it seemed, were sleeveless. His arms were well defined enough, but were hardly massive, leaving pals like Josh to wonder what inspired Justin's obsession with sleeveless shirts and wife beater tees. But after seeing Justin move on the dance floor, Josh realized that few other shirts would offer him as much freedom of movement. And damn, but Justin knew how to move.

The sleeveless Justin made his way off the floor to more catcalls and pats on the back. After needlessly running a hand through the unruffled tight blond curls of his hair to smooth them, Justin took Josh by the arm and led him over to the bar. Josh never said a word. Justin's face remained lit in a beautiful smile, his eyes practically sparkling. He wasn't even breathing hard.

Justin was leaning against the bar, taking in the bustle of the room now that he was away from the immediate crush of people. He looked over to Josh as if to say something, but stopped when he saw his friend's stony expression. "What?", he asked.

"What the hell was all that out there?", Josh asked curtly, his jerking thumb indicating the dance floor.

"Ohh, man!", Justin glowed. "Was that a great song or what? 'Sfunny, I never used to get into that one until after my trip to--"

"Are you on something, man?"

Justin was stopped short by his best friend's question. For the first time in hours, his smile was gone. "Wh-what? Am I--?"

"Look at you, Justin! You just danced three consecutive songs out on that floor--extended dance mixes, even--and you aren't even sweating! Jesus, I can still smell your cologne!"

Justin lifted one arm and sniffed at his pit. "Did I put too much on tonight?" He started to smirk at his remark.

Josh grabbed Justin's shoulder, and raised his voice to be better heard over the din. "I'm serious, Justin! I'm worried about you! Are you doing something you shouldn't be doing?!"

Justin's smile was back. His best friend was merely concerned for him, which filled Justin with even more joy than he had shown on the dance floor. He literally jumped over and threw his arms around Josh in a bear hug. "Ha ha! Rarh!" Justin let out a mock roar as he gripped Josh, then smacked his arms playfully as he let him go. "Dude, I love you, man. You are awesome." Josh looked more concerned. Justin fought to control his giddiness and yelled back, over the music. "No, buddy! I am NOT on anything! I even stopped drinking!" He gestured toward his glass of Coke atop the bar.

Josh acknowledged it, but still shrugged to emphasize his confusion. "Then what--?"

Justin leaned in close, but continued speaking in a raised voice to make himself heard. "I'm not on something--but something's on ME!"

Josh pulled back, shaking his head and making a confused expression, certain he hadn't heard his friend correctly.

Justin threw a handful of bills on the bar and gestured so the bartended could see them. The barkeep showed he had with a wave of his hand and a quick thumbs-up. Justin jerked his head toward the far end of the room and pointed to the glowing red "EXIT" sign. Justin began to move towards the door, his arm extended back towards Josh, one finger curled inward to suggest that Josh should follow him out.

Knowing he couldn't relax until he had the solution to this mystery, he did.

---

Josh and Justin walked down the quiet, deserted halls of their college's athletic building. Well, more accurately, Josh walked and Justin bounced along, occasionally leaping up and repelling off the walls or bounding up to tap at the overhead lights dangling above them. Josh was the taller of the two of them, but it was impossible to tell that as Justin's feet rarely seemed to touch the ground. Josh twisted his mouth to the side, and blew a hank of his uneven hair out of his eyes in frustration.

After several minutes of watching his friend behave like a jumping jack, Josh asked, "So where are we going?"

"To the gym."

Justin continued bounding on his way, offering no further explanation. So Josh pressed for one. "What for? What's in the gym?"

"The solution to the Great Dancin' Justin Mystery." And he laughed with a childish delight. In his mind, Josh was already selecting a roster of people he'd need present at Justin's imminent intervention.

The two made their way first to a sports locker Justin kept near the gym, separate from the locker room area. From it he pulled a tan shoebox and a basketball, then continued toward the gymnasium. Justin lobbed the basketball over to Josh, commenting, "Man, you are so gonna love this--"

"What are you two doing here?"

Josh and Justin turned around to see Bixby, the night watchman for this section of the Athletic Building. He shined a flashlight on the two boys, which was hardly necessary, as there was ample overhead light despite the darkened and locked classrooms and equipment areas along the way.

"Easy, Bix. It's just me", Justin said calmly. "Josh gonna shoot some hoops. 'Zat cool?"

Bixby holstered his flashlight in his hip pocket, shaking his head. "You and your damn basketball. Day and night with you. Don't you ever get tired of it?"

"Not so far."

Bixby was already walking away, waving his hand derisively. "Just lemme know when you leave."

"Will do, Bix!", Justin called after him. The boys went on into the gym, and despite the pitch dark inside, Justin knew right where to go to hit the lights without losing his way or bumping into anything. The gym was familiar territory to him, no matter the hour. The gym was left unlocked, since there was nothing in it to steal. The locker rooms and equipment cages were locked and chained tight, however. But that was alright by Justin. He had his own ball and the court and its baskets were all he needed.

Justin made a show of setting down the tan shoebox before he hit the switch that lowered the baskets from their raised position. Josh asked him, "So, what's in the box?"

Justin walked around the box, dribbling the basketball back and forth between his hands. "OOoooo-ooo", he said in his best spooky voice, "What IS in that box, I wonder? What could it BE??"

Josh rolled his eyes. "C'mon, man, quit screwing around. Just tell me--"

Justin cut him off as he sprinted across the court toward the far basket. "Watch this!", he announced, taking off at a full sprint, dribbling the ball as he went.

Justin moved like a terror, speeding more like a track runner than a basketball player. Twenty feet from the basket, he leapt some seven feet into the air and swished the ball neatly through the basket with barely a sound. The ball only had the chance to bounce once against the hardwood before Justin had it in his hands again.

"How the hell did you--?", Josh started to ask, but again he was unable to finish his question.

Justin dribbled the ball with exceptional flair, then spun it on the tip of his finger. He looked over to his friend and gave him a goofy smile, sticking out his tongue. Then Justin zipped back to the basket, bounding up to snag the rim and dunk the ball. Josh began to applaud his friend's skill, but Justin wasn't finished yet.

Justin, using only the one hand which gripped the rim, spun himself up and over the open basket, to grab the other side of the rim with his opposite hand. He suspended himself there, in a handstand, for a fraction of a second before letting one hand go to complete his arc and twist down to the floor. Upon landing, he kicked the basketball lightly with his toe, up into his hands, then tossed it lithely to Josh.

"Ta-daa!", Justin beamed.

Josh stood holding the ball, his mouth agape. "Justin, dude, whatever it is you're on, you gotta stop taking it, I'm serious--"

Justin bounded over to Josh, pointing to his face. "Look at my eyes, man. All clear. No drugs. No nothing." He ran his index finger twice over his chest. "Cross my heart."

"Then how--?!"

Justin rocked back and forth on his heels. "Like my shoes?"

"Don't change the subject, Justin, you have to tell me--"

"I'm not. Dig the shoes. They look familiar?"

"They're the ones you got in Europe. They're the same ones you wore yesterday."

Justin's smile broadened. "Aannd--?" Josh just stood there. "What shoes did I have on the day before yesterday?"

Josh looked at Justin's feet and actually considered the question. "It was those...wasn't it?"

Justin nodded. "Yup. And the day before that?" Justin snatched the ball back from Josh and began dribbling again.

"Wait a minute...", Josh began, the clouds lifting.

"And in fact", Justin continued, never breaking stride but widening his circle as he bounced both himself and the ball around the court. "What have I worn EVERY day since I got back from overseas?"

Josh pointed at Justin's shoes. "Those."

"And who", Justin went on, sending the ball up and into the basket with a backwards toss, "has the biggest damn tennis shoe collection in the continental United States?"

"You." Josh raced over and grabbed the ball as quickly as he could. Despite Josh's considerable speed, he still felt like he was moving in sow motion compared to his best friend. "Now wait a minute. You always rotate your shoes. It's one of your things. How many pairs do you have now, anyway?"

Justin bounded over toward Josh and dodged left then right, easily taking back the ball. "At last count, 39 pairs. Never wore the same pair two days in a row. Before now." Justin left that cryptic statement to hang in the air as he himself took to the air and swooshed another basket. He caught the ball on the rebound and skidded to a stop one his heels, turning back to face Josh. "You figured it out yet?"

"Well, it's got something to do with the shoes."

"Dude, it IS the shoes! I don't know how they work, but holy shit, they DO! It's all about the shoes, Josh. You gotta try 'em. Like right NOW."

Josh rubbed the back of his neck, pondering it all. Justin seemed sincere, though excited. Of course, he also seemed high as a kite, too. But to try on a pair of shoes, what could it hurt? "Um, okay...", Josh began. "I don't think we're the same size, but if you wanna kick 'em over here..."

"No, wait!", Justin said, hurling the ball behind him and bounding over to the tan shoebox he'd brought in. He snatched it up and presented it to Josh with dramatic flair. "These, my boy--" and he removed the lid with a flourish, "--are for YOU."

Inside the box was a pair of jet black basketball shoes, identical in every way to Justin's. They were hi-tops, well-padded with thick soles. They were so new and shiny that they practically glowed.

"I've never seen a pair like this", Josh said, removing the new shoes from the box. "other than on your feet, anyway." He caught a whiff of that brand-spanking new 'factory smell' and realized that these had never been worn, and really were just for him.

"That's 'cause no one in the States has ever seen anything like 'em before.", Justin said, his voice rising with excitement. "Put 'em on, man. Go ahead."

Josh was still put off by Justin's eagerness, but opted to humor him all the same. Basketball shoes of this quality didn't come cheap, and who knew how much more expensive they were overseas. It was a helluva thoughtful gift, regardless of how hyper the giver was acting. Josh felt the surface of the shoes as he kicked off the sneakers he was wearing. They were very soft, pliable, more like a latex than leather. The material felt good under his fingers. They looked to be slip-ons, as they had no laces. Josh leaned over to pull the shoes on.

"Ut!", Justin stopped him. "Take off your socks. Wear 'em like you would track shoes. they work better that way."

"They 'work better' that way?!"

Justin crossed his arms. "Trust me."

"Uh-huh." Josh walked over to the bleachers and sat down. He yanked off his socks and slipped his right foot into the first shoe. As soon as his sole hit the floor of the gym, he sighed upon impact. "Oooohh." Josh padded his foot up and down on the hardwood, getting a feel for the new footwear. "Say, these are really comfortable."

"Put on the other one", Justin urged him.

In another second or two, Josh slipped on his second shoe and felt another tingle of comfort as he put his foot down on the floor. He rocked back and forth on his heels, enjoying the sensation, as the soft, slippery interior of the shoes molded to the contours of his feet. "Geez, these feel really great. I guess I wouldn't mind dancing for a few hours too, if I had these on." Josh took a few steps. "They're so soft, cushiony. Like I've got spongy springs under my feet. What's inside these things, anyway?"

"Rubber", Justin said with authority."

"You sure?"

"Positive." Justin tossed the ball over to Josh. "One on one. Let's go, man. You got the shoes, let's see what else you got."

Josh tore down the court like a terror, or so he thought. Justin was still running rings around him. He took the ball away from Josh easily, and made basket after basket. Josh thought the shoes were extremely comfortable and well-made, to be sure, but there was nothing to indicate they could enhance his performance to Justin's newfound level. In short order, Josh was panting and struggling to keep up.

"Wuh-wuh-wuh-wait a minute--!", Josh wheezed.

Justin leapt up to the basket to bring the score to 20-0, his lead. But the ball hit the edge of the basket and bounced off. Justin faltered, and groped for the rim, which his fingers only just managed to grasp. He swung awkwardly for a split-second, then tumbled to the floor like a sack of wet laundry.

Josh was alert with concern. "Justin! You okay?"

Justin was hunched over, bracing his hands against his knees, breathing hard for the first time all night. "Jus--just a sec", he panted. "Woo! Need a time out for a sec." After a few minutes of ragged breaths, Justin straightened himself and said to Josh, "They don't stay charged forever. Guess mine just ran out. Man!"

Josh had retrieved the ball and was bouncing it. "Stay charged? What, the shoes? What are you talking about, Justin?"

Justin walked over to Josh with some effort, and held his hands out to catch the basketball. "Gimme the ball."

"Like hell!" Renewed by Justin's show of fatigue, Josh danced around him and slam dunked a basket. "Two points! Looks like the odds are even, now, buddy! Whatever 'magic' you're using wore off. Take me on now!"

Justin's face formed a sly grin. "You really wanna even the odds? You wanna play like I did before?"

Josh eyed his best friend suspiciously. "I guess..."

Justin was right in Josh's face, a flash of lightning in his eyes. "Kiss me."

For a heartbeat, Josh wasn't sure he'd heard him right, then he jumped back about a foot. "Whoa! Oh, fuck me! Dude! I KNEW there was something different about you when you came back from Europe! Damn, man, you're queer!"

Justin laughed, shaking his head. "I'm not gay, Josh."

Josh kept backing away from his friend. "But you just asked me to--!"

"I'm not gay, but the guy who made the shoes is."

Josh stopped backing up. "What--what does that--"

"His name was Andreas. He's from Germany. Awesome guy, great basketball player. Makes his own shoes. And dude, I don't know how he does it, but these things make you move like magic! You've seen it. But they have to be recharged, or the magic runs out."

Josh paused. Then, "Recharged...how?"

Justin licked his lips. "Sexual energy. That's why I have the extra pair of shoes", and he indicated the pair on Josh's feet. "You need two people to do it, both in the shoes."

"Then let's go find a couple hot girls and kiss them, for Christ sakes, that ought'a--"

"It has to be two guys", Justin explained. "Andreas is gay. That's the way he made 'em, don't ask me how. But however he did it, they work." Justin stepped closer to Josh, who didn't move away this time. "C'mon, it's not like we're doing anything in public, man. That's why I brought you to the gym. No one's around, no one's gonna see." Josh just stood there, unmoving. "C'mon, Josh. Please", Justin pleaded. "I wanna get the feeling back."

Josh wiped his sweating palms on the front of his pants. "Okay. But if this is a prank and you're taping this, I swear you are so dead."

Justin smiled, then leaned forward, his mouth to his friend's.

"Just a little one", Josh warned.

"That's all we need", Justin assured him.

And they kissed. The two boys' lips pressed together ever-so-gently, lingered for only a moment, and then Justin slowly pulled away. Josh was relieved that none of their buddies leapt out from behind the bleachers with jeering voices and pointing fingers. It had not been a joke. Surely the fear about that was what made Josh feel so out of sorts. That was what made his throat dry and his heart race when he kissed his best friend.

Justin was already dancing on the balls of his feet, ready to go again. "Well?"

Josh started to speak, but a wave of vertigo whirled about his head, and his face grew flush. "What--what's happeni--??"

"Wait it out, bro", Justin told him. "Another minute. Just hang on."

It was less time than that. In another few seconds, Josh stood tall, his head clear, a rush of energy surging through his body like nothing he'd ever felt before. "My...fucking...God. I feel fanTAStic!!"

Justin threw him the ball, jeering, "I'm up by 18 points."

"Not for long!", Josh challenged, making for the basket like a cheetah.

The two boys played another half-dozen furious games of hoops, nearly all tie scores. Their moves were amazing, their speed and endurance incredible. Each would have marveled at the other's feats, had they not been so busying trying to top each other. After six games, Josh grabbed Justin roughly and kissed him with a passion that surprised them both. Their embrace lasted the better part of a minute, their kiss even including tongues.

They played on until 4:30 in the morning. Josh was so enraptured by his newly-acquired super energy, and Justin so thrilled to be able to share the experience with his best buddy, that neither one noticed that by the time they finally quit they both had raging hard-ons.

---

It had become a nightly ritual for the boys to meets for hoops in the gym before bed. And on weekends and any free period they could get. Both Josh and Justin had quickly gotten addicted, at least figuratively, to the rush that came with wearing the strange supercharged shoes.

Before each game of one-on-one, the first thing the two did was kiss. More accurately, the first thing the two did was ascertain that they were completely alone and that no one could see them, and then they would kiss, long and hard and intensely.

Then they hit the hardwood and played as if they were on fire. They averaged about three kisses a game. One at the outset and two more as they played; the second about halfway along, the last as they were winding down. Josh and Justin soon realized that the more they kissed, the better they played, and the more energy they had. But considering how disorienting the rush of sudden adrenalin could sometimes be, the boys were doing their best to limit their recharges.

"God, I dunno what I'm gonna do when these things wear out", Justin said, dribbling the ball like a demon.

"How long do you think that'll take, anyway?", Josh asked, taking the ball from his friend and landing a 30-foot jump shot with ease. "We've been using 'em pretty much nonstop for like a week now--longer for you--and they still look and feel as new as when you pulled 'em out of the box."

Justin got back the ball and danced his way around Josh. "Yeah, they still feel great, don't they? The other night I even crashed on the couch when I got home from class and forgot to take 'em off. Slept with 'em on all night."

Josh blocked Justin's throw and nearly got the ball back, but for Justin's last-second retrieval. Despite their rapid movement, the two boys talked as if they were sitting around chatting at a coffee bar. "Ooh, I bet somebody's dogs were sore in the morning", Josh commented.

"That's the funny thing", Justin said, still dribbling, still avoiding his friend's groping hands. "My feet felt great in the morning. They didn't swell up inside the shoes at all like you'd expect, even after having them on all day."

Jason finally snagged the ball, saying, "Unless the shoes magically expanded while you slept to give your feet room or something." Josh dunked the ball and turned to see that for once, Justin was not on his heels to get the ball back, but stood where Josh had left him.

Justin raised one eyebrow. "You don't suppose they really did, do you--?"

"What do you mean? Did what?" Josh dribbled the ball slowly as he looked at Justin.

"The shoes. Expanded so my feet wouldn't get cramped. You think they can do that?"

Josh stopped dribbling. "Dude, they're just shoes." Then he stuck his tongue into his cheek. "Well, okay, magic shoes granted, but still...expanding and retracting magic shoes?"

Justin smiled. "Expanding and retracting...", he said to himself softly. Josh leaned forward a bit, and held a hand to his ear to prompt Justin to speak up. Then, louder, Justin said, "Wanna see something else really cool they can do?"

"Sure, I guess. Like what?"

Justin had already peeled off his tank top and was tossing it aside when he said, "Strip. Lose everything but the shoes."

Josh let the ball fall from his hands. "Okay, this is the prank part, isn't it. All the rest of this was just build-up. You get me starkers playing basketball and then people jump out with video cameras, am I right?"

Justin was yanking off his shorts and hooking his thumbs under his boxer-briefs to lose those as well. "C'mon, just do it, Josh. Trust me." Then, to himself, Justin muttered, "I cannot believe I forgot about this."

Within seconds, Justin stood butt naked before his best friend, but for his shiny black shoes. He spread his arms out before Josh and made a face as if to say, "Come on, let's go!" Josh shrugged and pulled off his shirt. He grumbled, "I can't believe I'm doing this."

In another minute, the two boys stood face-to-face wearing nothing but their shoes. Josh fidgeted uneasily, his hand cupped in front of his crotch. "Okay, so now what?"

"Now this", Justin said, crouching down on his haunches before his friend.

Josh jumped back. "Whoa! Hold it! Face is dangerously close to the groin there, buddy!"

Justin shook his head. "Just get your ass back over here." Hesitantly, Josh did so. Once he was back in position, Justin began to feel along the uppermost edges of Josh's hi-tops.

Josh looked down. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Hang on, hang on", Justin urged him. "C'mon, where the hell are you, you little--there! That's one tab, annndd--there's the other one!" Justin looked up at Josh. "Brace yourself." With that warning, Justin started to stand up slowly. As he rose, he pulled on two hidden tabs on the outer sides of either of Josh's shoes.

"Brace myself? Brace myself for wha--?" Then Josh knew. He felt it before he could see it. There were rubber sheaths climbing up his legs. No, not climbing, growing almost. He looked down to see Justin pulling what looked for all the world like a gleaming brand-new wetsuit up out of the boots to spread over Josh's body. Josh started, "Justin, what- what is that--?!"

"Try not to move around so much, man. If I lose this, they'll snap right back like a window shade. It has to be all in one movement. Just hold still." Justin continued to pull the rubber suit up and onto his friend. The rubber glided over Josh's skin as if it had been greased with some kind of invisible lubricant. As it flowed smoothly over Josh's skin, it seemed to settle, to grow a bit thicker, to take on the properties of a medium-weight latex suit. Which, as it turns out, is exactly what it was.

"Lift your arms up over your head", Justin instructed. Josh just stared, reveling in the smooth, cool feel of the new rubber, feeling slightly high from the heady chemical latex smell. "Dude, come on. Lift your arms."

Josh shook his head to clear it. "Oh, right. Right." Josh lifted his arms high above his head, and Justin stood, his hands almost gliding along the outside of Josh's arms, past the shoulders, up to the elbows, onto the forearms. The rubber had covered Josh's rear, midsection, torso and chest, leaving only the cool, slick feeling of slightly-wet new rubber behind. Justin pulled the suit--which is now what it had become--all the way up to Josh's wrists. He stood there, holding onto the rubber sheet, wondering what to do next. "I don't remember how Andreas did this now. If I just let go, it might snap right back down into the shoes. Is there some trick to keeping it up--?"

At that, there was a quick snap, as from a rubber band, and the material pulled out of Justin's hands, to wrap tightly around Josh's wrists and settle there into snug sleeve cuffs. Justin actually jumped back half a step in surprise. "Or that. It could do that. That works." He looked at Josh, who still stood with his arms over his head, his eyes were now closed, and he was relishing the sensation of being covered in the clinging rubber that seemed to come from nowhere.

Gently, Justin took Josh by the forearms. "Dude, you can lower your arms now."

Josh's eyes fluttered open. He had the look of someone who had just awakened from an erotic dream. "Hmm? Oh, right."

Justin stepped back to look him over. "How's the collar? Too tight?"

Josh reached up to his neck to feel the high collar of the suit which rode about midway up his throat. "No...no, it feels okay. I didn't even know it was there."

Justin let out a low whistle. His tall friend stood coated in black rubber and rubber-seeming tennis shoes, his not inconsiderable musculature very well outlined, and the erect and bulging lump in his crotch leaving very little to the imagination. "Dude, you look hot."

Josh wasn't sure he'd heard that right. "What'd you say?"

Justin caught himself. He wasn't sure what he'd just said either. "I said you look like you'd be hot in that thing. Are you too hot?"

Josh ran his fingertips across his chest and abs. "No, oddly enough. It feels cool. It feels like it's hugging me, it feels---aa-uhhhh--!" Josh sighed, rolling his head around on his shoulders, shrugging slightly, his jaw slack. "Damn, it feels great. Shhhit."

"Now do me", Justin said.

"Huh?!" Josh snapped to attention, looking at his muscular friend standing naked before him. He was suddenly acutely aware that beneath his rubber suit, he was hard as a rock. "D-do what??"

"Pull up my suit, man."

"Oh. Oh, yeah. Right. Of course. The suit."

Justin arched one eyebrow. "What did you think I meant?"

"Never mind." Josh squatted down before Justin, letting out a groan.

"You okay? You pinch yourself?", Justin asked.

Josh braced himself by placing his hands on the floor. "No...but oh, baby...the way this thing hugs you when you move. When I squatted down just now, it was like...manoman...hell's bells, it's like it's in love with me...the way it holds me, it's like-"

"Dude, I know! Andreas put mine on me in Germany. So suit me up." Justin nodded toward his feet. "Look for the little tabs. They're not easy to spot."

It took Josh a few minutes as Justin impatiently began to rock back and forth on his heels. "Okay, okay, I think I got 'em. Just stop moving around so much." Josh pulled up on the tabs, and the rubber began to rise, it made it as far as Justin's claves before it snapped out of Josh's fingers to snake back down into the shoes.

"You gotta hang on tight, Josh. They're really slick", Justin chided.

"Yeah, I got that. Hang on." But this time it was Josh who hung on, as he slowly pulled the rubber suit up out of the shoes and onto Justin's legs. Josh slowly stood up, pulling the rubber along with him. Josh watched in amazement as the rubber seemed to flow up Justin's body. Josh could feel the tug under his fingers, as if he were gripping a very resistant tarp, but to look at Justin's body, it appeared almost like a black, oily paint running backwards, oozing and flowing up instead of down. Josh watched as the spreading rubber flowed together, connecting at the top of Justin's legs to create a covering for the crotch and the seat of Justin's pants. Then he was pulling up along the sides of his friend's torso, going up to the armpits, looking on in awe as the flow of rubber just stopped when it reached the high-neck collar below Justin's chin, even as the remainder of it flowed up his arms.

As Josh reached Justin's wrists, the pull was intense. It was if the suit wanted nothing more than to snap back down, to disappear once more into the shoes. Josh held on tight, but could feel the slippery material start to slide out of his grasp. With a crisp snap, the rubber pulled free of his hands.

"Whup! Oh, shit!", Josh spat, expecting the rubber suit to rocket back down Justin's frame and back into the shoes. To his surprise, it stayed right where it was, the cuffs around Justin's wrists settling securely in place.

Justin still stood with his hands high above his head, like a robbery victim. "We good?"

Josh nodded. "Uhh, yeah. Looks like. You can put your arms down."

Justin did so, and began bending his arms back and forth, twisting at the waist and squatting several times to rock on the balls of his feet. "Oh, sweeeet home Alabama, I'd forgotten how good this thing felt when Andreas first suited me up." Justin lithely sprang back up to his full height. "How do I look?"

Like Justin himself, Josh almost said "hot". But he caught himself in time and said, "Slick, man. You look really slick."

"I feel slick", Justin said, spinning on one foot. He did a couple impromptu dance moves, quick-stepping, twirling, and looked great doing it. Josh looked his friend over, or rather, his friend's rubber suit. It hugged him tight, but certainly did nothing to restrict his movement. Justin looked more like he was coated in the suit than wearing it. But it didn't look anything like a latex body paint. It was too thick, for one thing. It also bulged out just enough so as not to completely define his package. Even still, it was obvious through the bulge alone that ol' Justin was considerably endowed.

As Justin executed a couple more hip-hop maneuvers, Josh could see the skin tight rubber moved and breathed with him, while outlining and enhancing every line of his body. And Josh had one, too. He began to walk over to Justin, noticing as he did that he could feel he had a very powerful erection. Josh glanced down at himself, afraid he'd see his member causing the rubber of his suit to bulge embarrasingly outward. He needn't have worried. The front of his suit held back the wood he was sporting just enough to avoid embarrassment.

Josh began to stretch too. "Justin, how could you not wear this thing, like, every day? It feels so damn good! Jesus!"

Justin shrugged. "It takes two people to put 'em on. If you try to pull it on by yourself, you only get as far as your chest." Justin pantomimed pulling the suit up to show that he would indeed stop just about at his armpits. Josh opened his mouth in an "Ohh, yeah" expression. "I wanted to wait until we both had the shoes. Right out of Germany, getting back into this outfit was all I could think about. After a week or so of obsessing I was able to think of other things."

"So, does this enhance our playing even more than just the shoes?", Josh asked.

"Let's find out", Justin answered, urging him forward with his hands. They drew close to kiss. "Just a little one", Justin warned.

"Fine by me."

Briefly, the two kissed. There was a tiny charge, as if a spark had passed between them. The boys jerked apart, fingers going reflexively to their lips. "Whoa. Carpet shuffle effect", observed Justin. "Must be too much static electricity from the rubber. You okay?"

Josh nodded. "Yeah, I'm okay. Do we have to kiss agai--" and he shuddered all over. "Oohhhhh MAma! I'm better than okay! FUCK yeah!!" Josh's rubber suit seemed to shine brighter in the gymnasium lighting.

Justin felt it too. His suit gleamed with new highlights and he felt a crackle of emotional electricity surge down his arms to such an extent that he almost expected to see sparks emitting from his fingertips. "Woo!" He gave and open-mouthed laugh, sticking his tongue out. "Ha-ha!"

Josh snatched up the basketball. "Catch me if you can."

Justin grinned. "The man loves a challenge."

More than an hour later, the boys were still going at it, the score now tied at 108 to 108. They had intended to play a quick round or two of 21. They had kissed four times in the last hour, almost once every fifteen minutes. They didn't need the recharge so much as they simply enjoyed the rush it brought. Josh dribbled the ball so that it was nearly an orange blur connecting his hands to the floor.

Justin stole the ball from Josh's grasp, spun it on his fingertip, rolled it across his shoulders, and used it as a dance prop as he bopped along the hardwood, chuckling.

Josh looked at his friend, as high on energy as he was. "You tired?"

Justin kept dancing with the ball. "Nope."

"You horny?"

"Yup!"

Justin dropped the ball, which rolled away as the two boys stared at each other. Josh tried to think of something to explain his sudden question. "Uhh..."

Justin was equally at a loss. "Err..."

Then the two burst out laughing. Doubled over for a moment, bracing themselves on their knees, they then straightened themselves out and pointed simultaneously at each other's chests. In unison, they said, "It must be the rubber suits." More laughter.

After a bit more giggling and snorting, the two boys approached each other. Neither was sweating as much as you might expect, but what little was there mingled with the chemical smell of the new rubber to create an intoxicating aroma that was going right to their heads, and affecting their loins. "Never wore this much rubber before", Josh explained unnecessarily. "Kind of a turn-on, y'know?"

"Yeah, I know." Justin began to trace Josh's shoulders with his fingertips.

"Howcum yours still smells as new as mine?", Josh asked, inching closer. His hands found Justin's waist.

"Only wore it the once overseas", Justin said. His hands traced Josh's arms down to his wrists, where he held on, rubbing them gently. "Andreas couldn't keep up with me on the court. He didn't wear his." Justin moved even closer, allowing Josh to slide his hands around Justin and up his back. Their mouths moved close together.

"Guess he doesn't like to wear this much rubber--", Josh mused.

"His loss...", Justin whispered.

Josh suddenly pulled away. "Justin? How much did these things cost you, anyway? If this Andreas guy made them by hand and all, they must have been pretty expensive. I mean, a custom job not just for one but for two people--"

"They were a gift."

"A gift?? Something as incredible as this and he just gave 'em away? What, was he hot for you, man? You said he was gay." The two loosened their holds and took a step away from each other.

"At least", Justin said, rubbing his chin, "I think they were a gift."

"You think?!"

Justin ran his fingers through his tightly-curled hair. "Either that, or I really should get around to sending him some KFC."

Josh crossed his arms. "Okay, you lost me."

Justin blew air out of his mouth like a horse. "It's like this. When I was leaving Germany, I was late for my fight. Andreas was tagging along. As I'm running like gangbusters for the gangplank, he tells me he slipped the shoes along with a pair for you into my carry-on. I'm all, 'No, no, you shouldn't have, it's too much' and like that." Josh nodded. He gestured with an open palm. Go on.

"So, I'm like backing up the walkway to the plane, jogging in reverse, and I yell to Andreas back by the gate, 'Dude, I'll pay you for these! I promise I'll send you something! How much are they? What's the price?' And, well..."

"Well what? He wanted a bucket of popcorn chicken? They don't have any KFC's in the Motherland? What did he say, exactly?"

"That's just it. I'm not sure. I was getting close to the plane, the engine was going, it was loud. I could barely hear him."

"So what did it sound like?"

"It sounded like he said, 'Seize a hen'."

"Huh. So either he wants you to grab up a live specimen from a henhouse or he really does want a bucket of KFC."

"Seriously, I've tried to call him. He's away on a trip. Corsica, I think his aunt told me."

Josh felt a little awkward suddenly. They had stopped playing ball, the mood to exchange another energy-creating kiss had passed. And he had no pockets in which to stuff his hands. It was time to ditch the suit. "So how do we get these things off, anyway? It's not like there's a zipper anywhere."

"They retract. Same way we charge the shoes. Sexual energy. We need to kiss again."

Josh frowned. "How does that work? We've kissed like four times in the last hour and the suits didn't retract. What, are they broken, or--"

Justin shuffled forward a pace. "Not quite like that." He moved his arms clumsily toward Josh. "It--it needs to be more intense, more--" He looked at Josh, who was still standing stiffly. "You have to do this with me." Josh nodded.

Slowly, tentatively, the boys put their arms around each other. They leaned in close and began to kiss. They held their embrace, their lips connecting, for several seconds longer than any they shared during their flurry of activity on the court. After close to half a minute, Josh began to pull away. He looked at Justin, feeling apprehensive. Justin looked down at their bodies and saw they were still covered in their skintight rubber sheaths. Justin conveyed a silent message with his eyes. It has to be longer. Fuller. Try again.

Slowly, the two handsome rubberclad young men kissed again. Part of them tried to send their thought very far away, to focus on anything other than what they were doing, while another part surrendered to it. They lingered in their kiss, this time with their tongues finding their way into each other's mouths, each massaging the other. They felt themselves grow increasingly hard, their body temperatures rising. Justin ran his hands across Josh's shoulders. Josh let his fingers gather up the curls of Justin's hair.

Slowly, the rubber suits began to subside. The rubber had eased down past their shoulder blades before Josh felt the chill of his exposed skin. He started to pull away, to watch it happening, but Justin held him close. "Don't stop", Justin whispered. Then, softer, as an afterthought, "Or we'll have to start all over." Josh offered a curt nod of understanding, and resumed their embrace.

They fell back into their kiss, only dimly aware of the rubber suits which were gliding slowly, easily, down their smooth bodies to recede into their unique shoes with a soft "shhlupt". Their kiss continued on for a full two minutes after the glistening suits had disappeared.

Finally, the duo pulled apart. Justin began to speak, but was less than successful. "Th--I-th--", he paused to clear his throat, then tried again. "I think it's okay now."

Josh looked own at them, both naked once again but for the shoes. Both highly aroused. Both trying to ignore it. Josh rubbed his nose, finding a sudden interest in the wall. "Looks like."

The two got dressed in silence. There was an uncomfortable tension in the air. The energy, the sheer electricity that came with the strange rubber suits had vanished with them. After a lengthy few minutes, Josh and Justin stood fully dressed, the shine still apparent on their fantastic shoes. Josh took the ball in hand, Justin slung his backpack over one shoulder.

"I think maybe we should go to bed", Justin said.

Josh's eyes bulged. "Huh?"

"I-I mean, get some sleep", Justin was quick to correct. "We should go home and get some sleep. In our own homes. Separately."

Josh grinned sheepishly. "Yeah. Good idea." Instead of leaving together as was their usual method, after departing the gym, the two boys opted to head for home in different directions. They were about twenty feet away from each other when Josh turned back and called, "Hey, Justin." Justin turned around. "Great game tonight, man."

Justin smiled. "Better believe it."

They then went on their way, dwelling on that incredible game of one-on-one, those intensely erotic suits, and most of all, that remarkable kiss on which they ended the evening. The kiss neither one could dismiss, nor admit how much they had enjoyed it.

After that night of rubber-suited action on the court, Josh and Justin had a slight alteration to their regular nightly routine. School, then gym, lock the doors, strip down, suit up, play, kiss, play, kiss, play, kiss, play, break, really, really really kiss, lose the suits, and then go dancing.

The duo had become a familiar sight on the club circuit. And now thanks to the bristling energy they both experienced daily, Josh was just as much of a terror on the dance floor as Justin. Sometimes the two would separate and move to different sections of the club's floor and attract the attention of different girls who didn't know the boys were there clubbing together. Without fail the girls would swoon at the boys' astonishing dance moves, and then the boys would slip away to meet up at the bar and compare notes--more gratified and amused by the general responses they were getting than by the individual attentions of the girls themselves.

Usually by later in the evening, the two guys would hit the floor together, as a kind of dueling dancers, each trying to outdo the other, much to the delight of the female onlookers who cheered them on with great enthusiasm. By the end of each dance mix, the boys tended to strike a pose simultaneously, precisely at the last beat of the song. Most of the time they mirrored each other, pointing across the floor with a jabbing finger that projected the comment, "You. You da man." Everyone loved it, and the boys were an instant hit at any club they patronized.

They were just as much a hit at the club where they made their first mistake. Josh and Justin were hip-hopping, spinning, and backflipping through a dazzling dance number to the thrill of onlookers. At the finish of the song, the duo slapped a high-five at the precise moment the last beat was struck. "Yeah!!", they cried, and the other club attendants applauded, whistled, and cheered. Amid the cheers, Josh and Justin looked at each other. They still stood there, frozen in place, palms pressed together above them, staring into each other's eyes. They were both breathing hard, but it was not from the exertion of the dance.

At that moment, the lights dimmed considerably, the flashing strobe lights stopped, the glaring red and yellow colored filters shifted to a soft blue as the mirror ball slowed its rotations. Dancing queens and kings repaired to the bar as couples crowded the floor, holding tightly together as a melodious slow song filled the air. And Josh and Justin continued to stare at each other, there in the middle of the dance floor, breathing hard, palms pressed together.

Lyrics in a minor chord wafted about the club, as a song of love and devotion kept young lovers and those interested in a single night's fling spinning in time to the music. Josh and Justin's eyes were closed. They too were lost in the music. Lost in the rhythm, the verses, the sensation of giving of oneself to your heart's desire. Suddenly, their eyes blinked open simultaneously. They had been kissing, and kissing passionately, just as if they were trying to remove their rubber suits. Only there were no rubber suits on here. Something had clicked with the two of them when the dance mixes shifted over to ballads, just as they made physical contact. Without even realizing it, they had clung together and lost themselves in the dance, and the long kiss it inspired.

Instantly, the two jumped back from one another, nearly bumping into other dancers. They both gave the room a quick glance, and felt reasonably safe that due to the dimmer lighting and activity all around them that no one had caught their goof. Justin sent a silent message to Josh with his eyes. "Time to go?" Josh nodded and jerked his head toward the exits. "Definitely. Let's bail."

The duo left with haste, trying their best not to look back and find that someone had seen them kissing during the love song. They felt embarrassed enough as it was. If someone had seen, they really didn't want to know.

And unseen by the boys, two girls at the bar watched their departure. One gal was short, with unevenly-cropped bobbed hair that was poorly dyed red. Beside her sat a gum-chewing buxom girl trying to look younger than she was and not succeeding, with blonde hair piled atop her head like meringue. The gum-chewer held out her hand to the redhead and snapped her fingers. Red pulled a twenty out of her fanny pack and handed it to Blondie, who shoved it into her bra, saying, "See? Told ya they was gay. Who called it?"

---

Josh and Justin were as fleeting shadows on the practice court. Josh dribbled like quicksilver, and Justin fairly floated before him, looking for his opportunity to rob him of the ball.

"Y'know, I'm thinking I may be over the whole club thing for a while", Justin said.

"Yeah? Me too.", Josh agreed, not allowing Justin an opening.

"I mean, we can burn up lots of energy right here with hoops, right?" Justin feigned left then grabbed the ball from the right.

Josh went after him. "Definitely." Justin sent the ball toward the basket, but Josh leapt up and knocked it away just before it sank.

Justin was started to feel the fatigue of the game. His breathing was coming harder, and his legs felt just a bit sore. He could use a pick-me-up. He zipped over to Josh, pulling his tanktop off. Josh looked down, seeing that Justin was reaching for the concealed tabs on the side of Josh's shoes.

"Justin, what--?"

"Though maybe we could suit up. Lose your clothes."

Josh gently laid a hand atop Justin's head. "Uhh...maybe we should just stick to the shoes by themselves for a while." He shrugged. "You know, we don't want to wind up like we did at the club again and all--"

Justin was on his feet in a heartbeat, pulling back on his shirt. "Good call. Shoes only. Right. But we need a recharge. Quick kiss."

Josh reluctantly kissed his best friend, and kept it brief. Josh then pointed an admonishing finger at Justin. "But that's it now. That's our sole kiss for this match. No more. We ride it until this charge starts to wear down, then we go home. Hit the books or something. You with me?"

"Deal", Justin agreed, feeling the power surge pulsing through him once more. He waggled his fingers in mock challenge. "Show me what ya got, boy."

After the score tied at 40-40 and couldn't seem to be broken, Josh relented and allowed one more kiss. Just to help prompt a tie-breaker. Fifteen minutes later when the score was up to 52-54 in favor of Josh, Justin grabbed Josh and kissed him again by surprise so that his buddy wouldn't get too far ahead. Within another ten minutes, Justin was up by 18 points, and this time it was Josh who grabbed his friend by the shirt and pulled him into a kiss.

Within another five minutes, the score was tied again at 78-78, and the duo had kissed another fifteen times, once every 20 seconds.

Josh and Justin stopped across from each other, hunched over, hands braced upon their knees, panting loudly. They had begun to freely perspire, though fatigue seemed miles away. Their eyes locked and they paid no attention to the basketball which was now rolling off into a far corner of the gym.

Justin spoke first. "God, I want my rubber suit on so fucking bad."

Josh nodded, looking down at the floor. "Me, too." Then he looked up. "But if I let you put it on me, I swear I will never want to take it off."

"Me either", said Justin. "That a problem?"

Josh stood up, running his fingers through his hair. "Gah! We'll never burn off this energy shooting baskets, man. I'm wired! I need to move! This isn't enough! We need to--"

"Dance?" Justin arched his eyebrows as he made the suggestion.

Josh stood there, hands clutching his hair, looking at his beautiful friend, imagining him head-to-toe in rubber and feeling himself getting painfully hard. If they stayed here, they would be in their suits before another ten minutes had elapsed. He sighed. "Club?"

"Let's get changed. First round's on me."

Josh called after Justin as he sprinted for the door. "Fast dances only!"

---

They had never danced faster, or with more fervor.

The music in the club was deafening. The bass beat pounded with an intensity you could feel in your marrow. Lights flashed, pulsed, and shone down on the dance floor in mad splashes of color. In the midst of it all were Josh and Justin, dancing with an energy that was exhausting even for those who merely watched them.

The two had surrendered themselves to the music, allowing the beat to dictate their movements. They spun, squatted, flipped, and twirled with an endless energy that could not be denied. Both boys were thrusting their hips with a ferocity that had ceased to entertain and actually began to frighten the other clubbers. Their gymnastic moves had gone from enthralling to intrusive, as their spins circled too wide, their backflips spanned too far. Those few who elected to remain on the floor during Josh and Justin's athletic display soon found themselves driven to the far corners for their own safety.

At a pause in the beat, both boys realized what was happening to them. They had thrown themselves into the music with such abandon that they had forgotten there was even anyone else in the club, much less on the floor. But their gyrations had gained the unwelcome attention of the club's bouncers, who began to move closer to the floor, threatening looks in their eyes.

Neither Josh nor Justin could stop their dancing. They had charged themselves too fully, had too much energy to burn, and the pounding, hypnotic beat of the music was too intense to resist. But they could not risk causing a scene and being thrown out. So the duo took the hint conveyed by the bouncers' glares. They moved close together, bumping and grinding in tight circles around each other, arms lancing out over the other's shoulders, dropping suddenly to their haunches to swerve their shoulders while hovering between their partner's legs. Appearing satisfied that the disturbance was past, the scowling bouncers returned to their posts.

Oblivious, Josh and Justin spun around each other, shoulders bumping together, whirling around back-to-back, and bopping with chests touching through several dances. Their energy only increased, their restlessness climbed. This was not the remedy they had been looking for. But they were far beyond relief via a simple game of hoops.

The dance track changed, and a new beat shook the speakers and resounded through the club. Josh and Justin stopped. They had made their way to the back of the dance floor, the mirrored wall directly behind them. Both boys stopped and looked at each other. The dance music made their skin vibrate, but they had lost all desire to move to the beat. They looked into each other's eyes, panting hard. The flashing lights reflected off the mirrors and glinted within their eyes. Gingerly, Josh reached out and ran his fingertips down Justin's arm. Justin inhaled sharply. He felt a tiny portion of his energy spark away.

This was it. This was what they needed. Justin hesitantly stretched out his hand and rested his palm lightly upon Josh's shoulder. Josh closed his eyes, his head lolling to the side as he gasped quietly. He could feel it, too. They knew what they needed. They could sense--could feel--what they had to do before the energy surging within them threatened to tear them apart.

Once again, the two boys locked eyes. Then Justin jerked his head up to indicate something above and behind Josh. Josh arced his head around to see what it was. The softly glowing EXIT sign. He looked back at Justin, both of them panting. Nothing more needed to be said.

---

The duo half-burst, half-stumbled out of the club's rear exit and into the back alleyway. Hands all over each other, Josh and Justin stroked, kissed, and caressed with unbridled passion, unable and unwilling to stop what they were doing.

Justin's tongue invaded Josh's mouth, and the two shared kisses the depth of which neither of their girlfriends had ever experienced. Josh's hand wrapped around Justin's waist, fingers stroking him up his back and lovingly braced his head and neck. Justin rubbed at Josh's shoulders, tracing downward to knead his arms, then reach back to grasp his waist and massage his ass.

Josh stopped to catch his breath, his heart pounding like a triphammer, and placed his hands against the alley wall, gasping. Justin, his back against the wall, still held Josh by the waist, and panted furiously as he tried to continue kissing him.

"Closer", Justin panted. "Don't go. Don't leave me."

"I won't", Josh said, wheezing softly. "I'm right here."

Justin pulled Josh closer, trying to press their chests together. "You're too far. Stay with me, keep touching me. Keep--"

Josh wrapped himself tightly around Justin, kissing him with ever-increasing intensity. Justin did the same. The two rolled along the wall, knocking over trash cans and old crates, stumbling so they needed to catch themselves against the bricks, not really caring about it. The impassioned duo slammed into the back corner of the alley, their embrace still unbroken, their lips locked, tongues intertwined.

Gasping, Justin pulled his mouth free and rested his cheek against Josh's. Josh began to nibble and gnaw on Justin's ear. Justin gasped again, overcome by pleasure, by deep, uncontrollable urges for intimacy. "My--my place is a only a few blocks from here", he panted.

Josh kept at him, now kissing the side of Justin's head. "Yeah, I know." He began to suck on the side of Justin's neck.

"We should go there. We can't keep doing this here, we won't be able to stop. It'll only take us a couple of minutes."

"Can't wait that long." More kisses. Josh started to rip off his shirt.

Justin grabbed his wrist, stopping him. "We'll run."

Josh exhaled, panting as if he'd just run a marathon. "Hold my hand."

Fingers interlaced, the two ran with abandon toward Justin's place. Three city blocks away, they traversed the distance in less than a minute and half.

Josh raced into the Justin's home, Justin's legs wrapped around his waist, cradling Josh's face in his hands and smothering him with kisses. Josh kicked the door shut with one foot and the two threw themselves on the bed. Justin yanked off Josh's shirt and Josh did the same for Justin. In seconds, they were both unzipping and removing the other's pants and kicking them off over their shoes. Naked but for their shoes--which it never occurred to them to remove--the two wrestled on the bed, feeling the warmth of their bodies blend and build in temperature.

Their hands kept moving up and down their bodies, feeling the smooth, muscled flesh of their arms and legs. Rubbing their torsos, fingers gliding over the washboard abs, the trim, slender waists. Fingers reached down and clutched the inside of their thighs, held tight to their buttocks, rubbed firmly at their shoulders.

The two boys felt as if they had stepped outside of time. Minutes, hours, no longer seemed to matter. The had no idea how long they had been caressing, how long they had been kissing. It had only been for a few moments. It had been all night. Either way, it wasn't nearly long enough. And somewhere during their amorous wrestling, the smooth, firm feeling beneath their fingers changed. It was no longer the feel of warm, living skin. It was cool, soft, slick. It was rubber.

Justin pulled back from Josh by a few inches, noting that they were now both attired in their shining ebony rubber bodysuits. "Wh-when did we suit up?", Justin asked.

"Don't know", Josh panted. "Don't care. Kiss me." And he did. Over and over, again and again. The two got up on their knees, kissing faces, necks, shoulders, arms grasping at their backs, clutching their torsos.

"Stand up", Justin said.

Josh kept kissing and stroking him. "Why?"

"Just do it. Trust me."

"Oh God yes, I trust you, Justin, I trust you so much. Just don't stop."

"I won't."

Josh got off the bed, unsteady on his feet, and Justin hopped off in front of him, dropping to his knees before his best friend. Justin grabbed at Josh's ass, caressing his legs, and kissed Josh's crotch.

"Oh, buddy, that is so hot--", Josh wheezed.

Justin wasn't satisfied with being on the outside of Josh's skintight suit. The outline of Josh's erection was so clear, his member so close. But beneath the gleaming rubber sheath it may as well have been in the next county. Justin kept rubbing it, massaging it, kissing it. Until--

--a flap appeared over Josh's crotch. Not a rip, not a tear. A flap. Like undershorts have. It looked as if it had always been there. Only it hadn't. Justin didn't care to solve the mystery. All he wanted was his mouth around Josh's dick. Justin pulled out his best friend's erect penis and wrapped his hungry lips around it.

Josh inhaled sharply. "Ohhh, MA-AANN!!" Justin sucked his friend like a vacuum. Lips riding up and down the shaft, tongue licking all around the erection, Josh had to place his hands on Justin's shoulders to brace himself and keep from falling over. Justin clasped his hands around Josh's backside to prevent him from backing up. Josh's hips began to buck, his entire body to sway, nerves pulsing with imminent orgasm.

"J-j-j-ussstin--!", Josh gasped. "Let me out, man! I-I'm gonna cum! I-I c-can't hold it--!" Justin tightened his grip on Josh's rear, unwilling to let him go. "Jus-Justin--!" Josh's pleading didn't get any farther. He shot his load with a force he had never before experienced, filling Justin's mouth with stream after stream of hot semen. Justin took it all. He swallowed, gulped, and slurped down every drop as if it were a delicacy. Even when Josh was spent, Justin continued to suck him dry, pleasuring Josh's member almost to the point of a second orgasm.

Josh was reeling under wave after wave of intense sexual pleasure. He had never felt so heated. He should have felt exhausted by now, but instead his energy level, his insatiable sexual hunger, kept rising. He had to have more. But more head would not do it. Roughly, Josh grabbed hold of Justin and pulled him up to his full height. He kissed him passionately, then lifted his friend and threw him face-down upon the bed. Then Josh leapt on top of Justin, riding him from above and behind. As if he had expected this to be the next step, Justin didn't resist. He gasped out quiet words of assent and encouragement as Josh pumped furiously at Justin's rubbered behind, Josh's still-exposed penis started to slicken the shining black surface with smears of jism.

A second flap appeared. This time it was over Justin's ass. Again, not a moment was wasted in pondering how this entryway had suddenly formed. Nor how the interior of Justin's suit which had been stretched over the seat of his pants was now so moist, thick with a viscous lubricant from no evident source. Josh's intentions were no mystery, to either boy. And both wanted it so badly, there was no hesitation.

Josh entered his best friend, thrusting with all his might, as Justin called out as they both spasmed with pleasure. "Yes! YES!! Oh my God in heaven, Josh, YEEAAHH!!"

Josh reached up and traced Justin's rubbered arms with his fingertips, and kissed the middle of his back as he thrust over and over, harder and harder. Inside his suit, Justin shot an incredible load that ripped out of him like a bolt of pure lightning. Inside Justin, Josh came again, filling his best friend with steaming juices, and prompting another orgasm from Justin himself, covering the interior of his skintight suit and painting his chest and torso with warm semen.

It would not be the last orgasm for either of them. Josh continued to thrust into his friend Justin for hours. Soon both boys were caught in an intoxicating loop of action and orgasm, until they drifted into a mesmerized pattern of continuous pleasure. They had lost awareness of what they were doing and where they were well before they actually stopped engaging in their ravenous sexual heat.

---

The two lay side by side in the bed, gasping for breath, staring at the ceiling. Josh spoke first, reluctantly. "Holy shit. Did we just do what I thought we just did?"

Justin's ragged breathing was starting to steady as he contemplated his reply. He wanted to rationalize their experience. They were caught up in everything; the dancing, the lights, the music. They were confused. They didn't know what they were doing. They were thinking of their girlfriends... But the intense, crystal clarity of the experience came unbidden to his mind, establishing without question that they had known exactly what they were doing.

Justin swallowed hard. "I--I think we did, man."

Josh started to sit up. His hands reached up to feel the rubber suit stretched across his chest, only to find it was gone. He looked at Justin to confirm it, and sure enough, they were both naked. Naked, but dry and clean. Both their rubber suits had retracted back down into their shoes. Josh grasped the heel of his shoe and began to pull. "Dude, we've got to get these things off."

Justin propped himself up on his elbows. "Wh-what? Why?"

"Justin, they're controlling us! They made us have sex, for God's sakes! Gay sex! We gotta get rid of them!" Josh tugged fiercely at his shoe, but it wasn't coming off. He muttered through gritted teeth, " 'Slip-ons' my ass--!"

Justin braced Josh's arm with his hand. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. What, are you telling me you really think the shoes are, like, possessing us or something?"

"Hello!! When was the last time you looked at your ol' pal Josh and thought, 'Gee, I'd sure like to blow him'?? Justin--I just fucked you!!" Josh took a deep breath, as rattled by his outburst as Justin was. Then, "Something is going on here, Justin, and it has to do with these damn shoes. How many times have you fallen asleep with them on? When did you last take 'em off?"

Justin paused. "I--I'm not sure. I must've taken them off, sometime. I mean, it's not like I could wear them in the shower, anyway..."

"How would you know?! They're mostly rubber, remember? They're probably waterproof and dry fast on top of that! Justin, we've got to get them off. Right now! Now help me!"

Justin leapt off the bed and grabbed Josh's shoe. He looked at his friend with new determination in his eyes. "Pull."

They were both still pulling twenty minutes later. And another twenty-five minutes after that. The boys rotated, each trying to yank the other's shoes off in turn. Each time, the shoes tightened around their feet, clinging with an unbreakable grip.

Eventually, the two young men were dizzy from exertion and the night's escapades. Josh tried to stand up and found himself so overcome by fatigue that he stumbled backwards and collapsed onto the bed. "J-Justin, it's no use. The damn things aren't coming off. What the hell do we do now?"

Justin., equally spent, lay nearby, panting. "I dunno, man. This isn't working is all." He pushed Josh lightly on the shoulder. "You should go home. Get some sleep. I will too. We'll get the shoes off tomorrow."

Josh turned his head to look at his friend. "Justin, this is serious. We can't just leave this until--"

"Josh. I mean it. You know how you said I never thought about how nice it's be to blow you? Well, I'm thinking it right now. And if I keep grabbing you and tugging at you, I won't be able to fight it much longer. Go home."

Josh got up, gathering up his clothes. "Okay, tomorrow morning, then." He jumped into his pants (funny how the shoes let the pants slip right on) and yanked on his shirt. Without thinking, Josh leaned over and gave Justin a quick kiss on the forehead. "See ya then."

Justin drifted off to sleep and Josh departed, neither one truly realizing what Josh had just done. As Josh headed for home, he was only dimly aware of the fact that his shoes had stopped tightly gripping his feet, and felt as comfortable as they did when he first put them on.

When Josh got home, he pulled off his shirt and yanked off his pants, tossing them into the far corner of his room. He collapsed face-down on his bed, naked but for his magic shoes. He wasn't sure why he elected to sleep that way. For some reason, it just felt right.

---

Josh rolled over in bed, slowly rousing to wakefulness, feeling absolutely wonderful. He was still riding a wave of the sensual sensation he exchanged with Justin the night before. But as he blinked his eyes and came fully awake, a feeling of dread pervaded his mind, as he realized the lingering sensations of pleasure were small compensation for the trap they'd found themselves in. Josh rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling, wondering what they were going to do next. He wiggled his toes and could still feel the shoes on his feet beneath the blankets. Josh closed his eyes and let out a deep breath of frustration. He knew he'd need to meet with Justin, to compare notes and try to come up with some way to remove their magic shoes. If he could only get in the same room with Justin without feeling compelled to kiss him...

Josh sat up, throwing back the sheets and blankets, and plopped his feet down on the floor. He was about to stand up to get dressed when he saw that wouldn't be necessary. But he hadn't fallen asleep with his clothes on.

"Oh, fuck..." Josh looked down at himself and saw that he was once again covered in the skintight rubber suit attached to his shoes. Reflexively, he reached up to the snug high collar around his neck and tried to pull it down. It felt like he was trying to remove his own skin. He peeled desperately at the sleeve cuffs hugging his wrists and tried to dig underneath them with his fingernails. Nothing doing.

Josh jumped up out of bed, his hands running through his hair, his eyes darting wildly about the room. Then he gasped slightly. The mere action of getting up, of feeling the rubber suit--the rubber skin--stretching over his crotch area caused him to spring an erection. He was becoming aroused again. Seriously aroused. "Shit, no...", he whispered.

Now he had to call Justin.

Justin picked up the phone on the first ring. "Josh?" Despite the lack of Caller I.D., he knew who it was.

"We got a problem here, man."

"Same here. Are you in--"

"The rubber suit, Justin! The fucking rubber suit, and it won't come off! I can't get it off me! It's like it won't let go!" Josh's voice switched from panic to outrage. "I thought you said we couldn't put these things on by ourselves. You said it takes two people. So how the hell--"

"It does! It shouldn't! I mean, I don't know what happened, man! I thought you couldn't get the suits on without help, but I woke up wearing mine, too. I swear I don't know how they got back on." And he paused. Then, "Or--or how to get them off."

"Shit, I'm gonna get some scissors and just fucking shred this thing--"

"No, don't!!", Justin yelled.

"Shit, who cares about your stupid shoes anymore, man. I'm like a big orgasm factory here, Justin. I'm overcharged and I'm going crazy." And, he thought, all I can think about is you. "We should'a just done this in the first place. Damn thing is coming off in pieces--"

"Josh, please, stop!", Justin cried. He could hear the sound of a drawer opening and the clink of metal scissors being removed on the other end of the line. "I already tried that!"

Josh stopped, setting down the scissors slowly. "What'd you say?"

"Just like an hour ago after I woke up. I tried to cut my rubber suit so I could peel it off."

"And--??"

"I almost cut myself, bad. Every time I tried to cut it away, it would hug extra tight to my body, like it was glued to--like it was part of my skin. I couldn't cut the suit without tearing into myself. When I finally gave up and put the knife down, the damn thing actually relaxed, and fit more comfortably again. It's like it knew, Josh."

The two boys sat holding the phone in silence for a while. Finally, Josh said, "What are you thinking about?"

"Having sex with you. It's all I can think about." He laughed, an ironic snort. "Even trapped inside a magic rubber suit with a mind of its own, all I can think about is screwing you. Jesus."

"Me, too. You think it might make the suits retract again if we do?"

"I don't know. Maybe. I'll try anything at this point."

Josh sighed. "I'll throw something baggy over the top of this and be right over."

"Hurry."

Josh entered Justin's place quickly, without knocking. Justin rushed to greet him, not with a hello, but with "Thank God."

Josh yanked off the baggy sweats he'd tossed atop his rubber bodysuit and said, "Let's get to it, man." Then pausing, he said, "Which one of us is going to take it?"

Justin turned around, bending over to offer his rear to his friend. "Like it matters at this point. Do me. Just...just do what you gotta do." Justin shut his eyes and braced his hands against his knees, ready to accept Josh inside him.

"Right." Josh grabbed up the bottle of lube he'd brought with him, and slopped an excessive amount on his hand. Reaching down to stroke himself, the fly flap suddenly appeared and he began to lubricate his protruding member. Then, he gently felt around Justin's ass for the rear entry flap that should appear now that they had begun their business. Within moments, it was there, beneath his fingers, and he pulled it open and began to lube Justin's behind.

For a split-second, Josh had an idea and tried to force open the rear entry flap on Justin's suit farther, to perhaps provide his friend with a means of escape. The flap wouldn't open any farther than it had to.

"Just get on with it, Josh", Justin sighed, realizing what his friend was attempting.

"Okay. In and out, man. I'll make it quick." Josh began to push himself forward to enter Justin, but just as the head of his penis made contact with Justin's crack, something happened. The flap began to close up.

"What the hell?!", Josh blurted out.

"What?", Justin asked "What's the matter?"

Josh jumped back in surprise as he watched Justin's rear flap close and then disappear without a trace. All that remained was taut rubber stretched across that perfect ass. "It's gone, man! Your suit flap closed up!"

Justin spun around. "What, are you serious??" Then, pointing at Josh's crotch, he said, "Look." Both the boys looked in horror as Josh's fly opening slowly closed up. The rubber moved just so, caused his erect penis to press up against his abs, and the rubber to seal seamlessly over the top of it. Now both boys were trapped back inside their skintight rubber prisons.

"What the fuck?!", Josh exploded. "What is this, torture or something? We're horny as hell, we HAVE to fuck each other, and now we can't?? What the hell is going on?!" Josh began to pace the room, grasping his hair in handfuls and cursing.

Justin collapsed on the couch, his head in his hands. Then, his head popped up and he whispered "Oh, my God..."

Josh whirled around to face him. "What?" Justin's words had the tone of discovery.

Justin looked at the clock on the wall. Then, to Josh, said, "How much time have you got?"

"What the hell does it matter what my schedule is like when we're--"

Justin waved the protest away. "No, I mean how long do you have until you're officially late for something?"

Josh looked at the clock. "An hour, I guess. Maybe a little more."

"Use it."

"What?"

"Use the whole hour, Josh. If we want this to work, I think--" And Justin paused to collect himself. "I think we have to go slow."

The light came on in Josh's eyes. Magical shoes with retractable suits created by a foreign man with a foreign sense of behavior. A foreign gay man. Josh nodded, slowly, and approached Justin, taking a seat beside him on the couch.

Hands trembling, Josh reached up to touch Justin's hair. As Justin lightly held Josh's wrists, the boy's hand worked their way slowly through the blond head of hair, fingers intertwining around tight curls. Justin moved Josh's hand over to cradle his face. Josh let his other hand fall as in slow motion, down from Justin's hair, along the side of his face, over his shoulder, down his arm to hold his hand. Justin reached over Josh's shoulders and slid his fingers around to his back, drawing his friend closer.

The two young men kissed, slowly at first, then with increased passion. Josh reached down and began to rub Justin's crotch, moving his palm in a circular motion, pumping up his friend's erection. Josh's fingers curled around the stiff member beneath the sleek rubber, and worked to get a grip for masturbating his best friend.

Justin clutched his friend's wrist, stopping the motion. "Not yet. Kiss me."

Josh held Justin's head with both hands, filling his palms with blond curls, his tongue working its way into Justin's mouth. Justin stroked Josh's sides, his lithe fingers caressing Josh's torso.

Their kissing, stroking, and massaging went on more than half an hour. Finally, the two of them lying one atop the other on the couch, Justin gasped, "Josh, I can't take it anymore. I can't hold it in."

Josh wheezed, "Me neither. Can I--?"

"Do me.", Justin ordered. "I want you inside me. I need you there."

Josh forced his way tighter against his closest friend, and could feel the rubber flap over his penis open easily. He moved his member forward and found Justin's hole. It was exposed, the rear flap opening even as Josh moved forward. Josh entered Justin slowly, oh so slowly, and Justin inhaled deeply as he accepted Josh within him.

Justin reached out and clutched his friend's strong arms, which in turn held his tight waist. The two boys pumped as one, and found themselves saying words they could not control, could not stop. "Oh, yes, I love you, Josh." "Oh God, oh God, I love you too, Justin." "Love you--never leave me." "I won't, I won't, I love you too much."

Before long, Josh came inside Justin, but they both knew it wasn't enough. It took another half hour and three more orgasms before the boys could bring themselves to separate. Even then, they clung to each other, gently kissing, whispering of their devoted affections. This was something for which they were woefully unprepared. In order to make their empowering rubber suits retract back into their shoes, the boys couldn't simply have sex.

They had to make love.

Considering the disturbing and bizarre way the day began for the boys, the rest of it could not have gone better. Both Josh and Justin were bristling with energy all day and rode an intoxicating natural high. Their mouths formed easy, wide smiles they couldn't have removed with a jack hammer. Unfortunately, they also couldn't remove their shoes, but the residual effects of having them on was so invigorating, Josh and Justin were willing to forget about that problem for now.

They went about every task of the day with vigor and enthusiasm. They charmed everyone they met, be they friends of strangers. Homework seemed a breeze, and hours spent at their part-time jobs flew by in no time.

By day's end, they still felt fantastic, but for a genuine need to burn off some excess energy. Opting for a favorite pastime, the boys met for a quick game of hoops. Since it was a beautiful day (and they wanted to avoid any temptation to pull on their rubber suits), they met on an outdoor court that was sufficiently secluded to ensure that it would be empty and waiting for them.

Justin darted along the small blacktop court behind a rarely-used playground. He dribbled with energy and finesse, but still found Josh a worthy adversary. He hadn't had a decent one-on-one match like those he now shared with his best friend since before the shoes. As he dribbled, swerved, and avoided his pal, Justin spoke. "So how ya doin' today?"

"Way better", Josh answered, bounding after Justin, arms waving to take the ball or at least block his buddy's shot. "Had energy to burn all day." Josh crouched and sprang past Justin, his fingertips gripping the ball and ripping it free of Justin's hands. He was in the act of dribbling before both his feet were back on the ground. "Still do."

"Me, too", Justin agreed, not breaking stride. The two dodged around like that for a few minutes, neither one slowing nor breaking a sweat. "Still can't get the shoes off, though."

"Me neither." Josh skidded to a stop and began to spin on his heel to make a basket.

Justin used the split-second pause to snag the ball away and bound around Josh with it, leaping ten feet in the air and sending it through the basket with a soft "shooft". He snatched up the ball and spun it on the tip of his finger. "Nothin' but net." Slapping his forearm playfully, Justin sent the ball arcing easily over into Josh's hands.

Josh held the ball, staring at it. Speaking into the ball, he said, "So what are we gonna do about this, man? The aftereffects of the shoes are great an' all, but--" and he paused. "But I can't keep on like--I'm always thinking about--"

Justin gently took back the ball with both hands. "I know. Same here." Josh stood still as Justin wandered aimlessly around the tiny court, randomly dribbling the ball.

"Maybe", Josh suggested, stuffing his hands in his pockets, "maybe if we, like use up all the energy we get from these things, the shoes, but never recharge them after, that might make 'em come off. I mean, then we might be able to take them off. You said yourself they don't stay charged forever."

Justin stopped dribbling and considered it. He looked doubtful, but said in what he hoped was an optimistic voice, "That could work." He tossed the ball back to Josh, saying, "Let's get started on burning up that energy. 17-16, my lead."

The boys played some more, enjoying the sunshine, the fine breeze, the fresh air as they dribbled, jumped, and dunked. It was almost a forgotten treat, to throw themselves into a friendly basketball game minus the superpowered excess they had indulged in of late. For some time, neither one of them spoke. Both Josh and Justin lost themselves in the fun and movement of the game, appreciating the challenge of an even match. They smiled, laughed, grunted as they executed quick saves (or losses), and whistled in recognition of a good shot. For the first time in a long time, they were simply having a good time being themselves.

It was in that relaxed atmosphere that they grew careless. They had been playing for more than half an hour. The score was 20-19. Josh was in the lead, one basket away from game point. Justin was determined not to let him have it. As Josh spun into a position to make his shot, Justin leapt behind him, arms wide, ready to grab the ball from the air when it left his friend's hands.

And Josh's back brushed up against Justin's chest.

There was a palpable charge that passed between them that stopped them both in their tracks. They stood staring at one another. Josh still held the ball, his hands sliding across its surface, his eyes on Justin. Justin traced the arc of his pecs with his fingers, feeling the spot where the two had connected. They were both breathing hard from their game, sweating freely, their youthful musk apparent in such close quarters.

Justin shuffled two feet forward, as did Josh. Josh kept the ball up, between them, as his neck craned seemingly of its own accord, his mouth pursed into a kiss. Justin pressed against Josh's fingers which clutched the ball. His own fingers reaching to make contact with Josh's bare arms. Justin's, slick with perspiration, lightly touched Josh's heated forearms. Justin applied a soft, tender pressure to Josh's arms, massaging them with his thumb. Beneath his hands, Justin could feel both their pulses rise. Again, their eyes met.

The ball bounced across the blacktop and then rolled to the edge where it tumbled onto the grass. Josh and Justin were locked in a loving embrace, kissing each other passionately, feeling the surge of energy coming both from their shoes and from their loins. They each sprang rock-hard erections as their hands stroked and massaged their arms, backs, shoulders, and behinds.

Their grasp was so intense that the two boys lost their balance and tumbled to the blacktop court in a tangle of arms and legs. Neither one cared. They continued to kiss with unbridled passion, tongues probing deep inside their mouths, arms clutching, holding, hugging.

Unseen by either Justin or Josh, a ripple of ebony seeped out of their shoes. Climbing, flowing, the gleaming black rubber of their contracting suits ran up their legs, coating their bodies in a latex sheen. The rubber fluid flowed ever upward, clinging tight to their bodies, making its way under their nylon shorts, beneath their boxer briefs, and up below their jerseys. In less than a minute, the suits had snaked their way over the boys' entire bodies, settling snugly at the wrists and high neck collar. The rubber coating served only to intensify their desire, and they remained there, kissing passionately on the deserted blacktop, until well into sundown.

Ever since that night on the blacktop, the rubber suits had become a ubiquitous presence in the boys' lives. Every morning they awoke trapped in their arousing skintight rubber prisons. They then had to meet to make love every morning just to get the suits to retract. They had started setting their alarm clocks at least an hour earlier each day to provide for their required interlude. The shoes remained as immovable as ever.

The one benefit, if such a situation can be said to have benefits, was that Josh and Justin were bristling with constant energy. Basketball season had started for their team, and Josh and Justin lead the group in hard practices, showing an unending willingness to put in extra hours, even on weekends, to get their moves down. They always stayed late to either put in more time on free throws or aid with cleanup.

They had to. They had do something--anything--to burn their stockpile of energy to prevent themselves from falling into an embrace while others were present.

The game season helped. Josh and Justin quickly became the team's MVPs. Their enthusiasm, stamina, and endurance left everyone else, on either team, in the dust. The coach and a few others were concerned that the two might be taking speed, but they showed none of the physical side effects or symptoms of such abuse. In the end, their constant barrage of energy was dismissed as nothing more than a sincere and passionate love of the game.

In the game that would decide who would go to State Finals, Josh and Justin deliberately did everything in their power to overextend themselves. They always went for the more difficult shots, took greater risks, ran faster, pushed harder. That morning as Justin lay beneath his best friend and Josh pumped inside him, the two had made a pact. They would get their team to the Finals, and then play that game without their magic shoes. They would give the penultimate game everything they had and then some. They would push until they were ready to drop and then dig deep give some more. They promised each other, even as Josh reached climax and shot into Justin, prompting him to cum as well, that they would drain those gleaming, indestructible, damnable shoes until they shriveled up and fell from their feet. And that night at the game, that was precisely what they did.

That night they were terrors on the court, their movements almost a blur. But it wasn't enough.

Josh and Justin both felt restless and found it difficult to concentrate. Despite their flawless playing while the clock ran, in between time they fidgeted, unable to sit still. They felt as if they were in some kind of withdrawal. And in a sense, that's what they were. Their groins ached with unattended hard-ons, their skin crawled with the need for human contact. For contact with each other. Their morning meetings aside, they had made a valiant effort not to engage in any kissing, affectionate displays, or use of the suits beyond the necessity to escape them at each day's start.

Their energy was draining, but it was taking its toll. Twice the boys caught themselves holding hands in between plays. They made an effort to stand as far away from each other as possible throughout the event. Their discomfort at being in close proximity to one another was so apparent that a few other players asked if the two friends had suffered a falling out.

After what seemed an interminable amount of time, the game was over and Josh and Justin's team had won by a fair margin. The two boys looked at each other from opposite ends of the bench with determined expressions. As the other teammates leapt and cheered over their victory, Justin gave an exaggerated wipe of his brow to Josh, miming "Thank God that's over!" Josh rolled his eyes as if to say back, "I hear you, man."

In the locker room after the game, Justin and Josh lingered with a promise to catch up as their fellow players headed out for an evening of celebration. Alone in the rank surroundings, both boys breathed a sigh of relief.

"How do you feel?", Josh asked.

"Like shit. Like I've just run a marathon barefoot on broken glass. You?"

"Worse. Drained. And I'm so fucking hard I could screw a pooch, literally. But all I can think about is doing--"

Justin held up a hand. "Don't say it, you'll get me started. But we both feel pretty damn whipped, which is what we wanted." Justin threw his backpack over one shoulder as Josh pulled on his jacket. "Now we go home, relax, and pull like our lives depended on it and we don't stop until we get these goddamn shoes off."

"Damn right", Josh smirked. "Good luck, buddy."

"You, too."

And without even thinking about it, Josh leaned over and gave Justin a quick peck for luck.

And that was the end of that. Afire with days of repressed passion, Josh and Justin leapt into each other's arms with no possible power to resist. Justin's backpack hit the floor, soon followed by Josh's jacket. The sound of tearing clothes and smothered moans echoed off the walls of the deserted locker room. Before long, the sounds were replaced by a squeak. A steady, ongoing squeak. It was the sound of rubber pressing and rubbing against the metal of locker doors and tiled walls. And then tiled floors.

The rubbered MVPs loved one another passionately alone in the dank room, helpless to resist their mutual attraction. It would be five hours before they would be able to separate themselves. It would be another three before they could coerce their rubber suits to withdraw.

At State Finals, Josh and Justin were invincible.

The boys tore across the court in a blur, each using the other as an extension of himself, passing at precisely the right moment to advance the ball, easily avoiding blocks, rendering the opposing players useless. The roar of the crowd was nothing compared to the roar from the blood pounding in each boy's ears. This is what they were made for, what they lived for. It wasn't even near the end of the first quarter yet, and they were already ahead 42 to 2.

Josh and Justin had not anticipate the intoxicating high they would experience following their locker room lovemaking. Holding back for days only to release everything all at once left them giddy to the point of delirium. They were playing an incredible game, and despite their other predicament, had never felt so happy.

The rest of Josh and Justin's teammates didn't seem terribly happy at the way in which they had been practically cut from the team, as the two hyper-energized boys whizzed past them as if they were standing still. But even the disgruntled home players had to be impressed when Josh landed a 40-foot jump shot into nothing but net. Or when Justin leapt high over an opposing player's head and sent the ball forward to make a basket as he completed his leap with a double somersault.

The opposition seemed to be moving in slow motion, if not actually frozen in place. Josh and Justin navigated the floor around them with ridiculous ease, performing tricks with the ball as they advanced to score basket after basket. The crowd had never seen anything like it. Neither had the announcers. All of whom were caught between shouts of triumph and incoherent babbling as they grabbed the arms of those beside them, pointed at the athletic spectacle and asked if they could believe what they were seeing.

The coach watched with his mouth held in a grim line. He had never seen either of them play like this. They wouldn't sit still. They couldn't sit still. Thoughts of drugs, of steroids, of God Knows What Else raced through his mind. This wasn't just phenomenal ball playing. This was simply unnatural, and he had to put a stop to it. After this quarter, he would pull both boys from the game. He had to find out what was up. Well...maybe after the second quarter. When he was sure they were far enough ahead that the opposing team could never catch up.

But pulling the boys by the end of the second quarter may not be soon enough. The longer they stayed on the court, the more extraordinary their feats became. Josh tore down the court dribbling the ball at such a pace that it appeared to be steady orange line, connecting his hand to the hardwood. He darted in and out between opposing players and vaulted--from a standing position--through the air, over the head of the visitors' tallest player, passing the ball to Justin while in midair. Justin snatched the ball and sped towards the basket, spinning and ducking away from oncoming players. He squatted down on his haunches and flew upwards, twisting his body like a high-diver, and rocketed the ball through the basket before winding away, over the top of the backboard, to land lightly behind it. As his shoes touched the floor, the first quarter ended. 66 to 2, in favor of Home.

Josh and Justin bounded toward each other, and leaping ten feet in the sir, gave each other the high-five. They should have known better than to have made physical contact.

While the crowd roared, whooping and hollering, and both coaches scratched their heads and tried to determine what the hell was going on--Josh and Justin froze, center court, staring into each other's eyes. The noise and commotion all around them became a dim hum of white noise, as the two boys threw their arms around each other in a passionate embrace. They kissed like lovers, which like it or not, is what they had become. Josh clutched Justin's shoulders and Justin ran his hands across Josh's back. Nothing else mattered. They were alone in the world, alone with their love for each other, and nothing could take that away. Nothing could separate them from each other.

"I love you, Josh!", said Justin, arms on his boyfriend's shoulders.

"I love you, Justin!", his lover answered, leaning forward so their foreheads touched. Their hearts were pounding, but all else was quiet.

Then they both realized that all else really was quiet. Slowly, they turned their heads towards the stands. Hundreds upon hundreds of spectators sat gaping. Their two star athletes--their heroes--had just exchanged a passionate kiss on the center court. In front of their fellow teammates, the opposing team, their coach, their classmates, the cameras--in front of everyone. Had anyone chosen that moment to drop a pin in the nosebleed section, you could have heard it from the parking lot

Josh gulped loudly. Justin spoke one word.

"Whoops."

The college chancellor was a certified hardcore basketball fanatic. In his twenty-one years at the university, he had never once missed a game, he had never allowed his enjoyment of a game to be interrupted. Rumor has it that when he was informed during the playoffs that his mother had just died, he told the messenger to "put her on ice" until after the game. And in all his time at the university, the chancellor had never once left a game early. Until today.

He and the coach marched down the hallways side-by-side, the coach trailing maybe a pace or two behind. "Where are they?", growled the chancellor.

"In the reception area outside your office", the coach told him. "We brought them there after we escorted them off the court."

"Never in my life have I ever seen a fiasco like this", the chancellor said. "The way they were leaping and bounding all over that court, like some kind of damn--"

"Gymnastics event?"

"Circus! More like a circus! They turned our team into a circus sideshow, damn homo jumping jacks! What the hell do you suppose they're on, anyway? PCP? Crack?"

"I have no idea, but I assure you, we're going to find out right now."

The coach and the chancellor stormed into the office reception area, eyes glaring and tempers fuming. They stopped, barely inside the door, their curses and accusations dying in their throats.

Josh and Justin sat on opposite ends of the wooden bench along the far wall. Since the two boys were the only ones in the room, it made for an interesting sight, as the bench was nearly twenty feet long. Both Josh and Justin clung to the edges of the bench with a white-knuckle grip. Both of them were clad head-to-toe in their skintight, shining black rubber suits. As the men entered, the boys met their gaze, a look of desperation in their eyes, their breathing ragged, as they both did their utmost not to make eye contact with one another.

"What the Sam Hill...", the coach muttered.

"What is this?", the chancellor demanded. "Where did they--where did you get those, those outfits?"

"Both of you, get over here, right now! Hartley, Timberlind--move!"

The boys were reluctant to heed their coach's words. If they let go of their ends of the bench, they knew they'd be all over each other. But they risked it, standing up and slowly approaching the two men--all while keeping a twenty-foot distance from one another.

"What the hell is this, are you guarding Buckingham Palace or something?", the coach growled. "Get your faggoty asses right here in front of me, now!!"

The boys moved, their loyalty overriding their common sense, and stood beside each other as the coach prepared to ream them a new one. He launched into what he was sure was a terrifying speech about loss of respect, destroying the school's image and reputation, and having televised their shenanigans (and he actually used that word, too, "shenanigans") to who knew how many thousands of viewers. The chancellor stood behind the coach, arms crossed, face red with barely contained fury, waiting his turn.

The boys heard none of it. Josh and Justin were too busy trying their damnedest to stand still, to keep from wrapping their arms around each other, from kissing and stroking and then eventually surrendering to that divine moment wherein one of them would enter the other, that the two of them would be as one. Justin was focusing his eyes on a wart on the coach's forehead, and the tiny hair that protruded from it. Can't get charged up looking at that. Josh was staring intently at the liver spots on the side of the chancellor's neck, reminding himself that there really were some things in the world that didn't make him think about sex with Justin.

"And if you two little fairies think for one goddamn second that this--", the coach stopped, noticing that both boys were sweating profusely, their arms and bodies tense. He looked down to see that their legs were shaking violently, as if they had been straining their muscles tensely against a powerful force they couldn't resist for much longer. "Just what the fuck did you two idiots take, anyway? What are you on?"

The coach smacked Josh in the arm, and his body brushed lightly against Justin's. That was all it took. Justin cried out, "God, I'm sorry!" at the same time Josh said, "We can't help it!" And the two boys were all over each other.

Rubbered arms and legs tangled all over themselves, and the boys kissed madly and pressed their fingers against each other's bodies. Hips thrust, tongues probed, and the boys whimpered as they fought in vain against the overpowering passion which had claimed them. For all they knew, the coach, the chancellor, and the rest of the human race had ceased to exist.

It took fifteen minutes and four grown men to pry the two boys apart.

Justin waited as the phone on the other end of line rang. It had taken him the better part of an hour to get up the courage to dial.

It had been a month since the fiasco at State Finals, and all seemed to be back to normal. Neither Justin or Josh needed to be strapped down anymore, and both of them were off their medication. They had been kept apart, in two different cities a good three-hour's drive from each other.

The first week was the worst, the constant, urgent need to be with each other, the ache both in body and spirit as they yearned so desperately to be reunited. There was a botched attempt by doctors to cut away their rubber suits, but they eventually had the smarts to leave them alone. After about four days, the suits receded of their own accord. No one but the boys were on hand to see it when it happened, so each caregiver assumed that another one of them had figured it out.

The shoes remained a mystery to everyone. At first, they diagnosed a terrible swelling in the feet as a side effect of whatever unnamed drug the boys had apparently taken. Later, it was considered some strange psychological dependency relating to the boys' mutual love of basketball. As it seemed leaving them on would cause no harm, the boys were indulged. Little did anyone know that at this point the boys would have lopped off their own legs with a hack saw to be rid of the damn things.

By the fourth ring, the other line picked up.

"Hello?", came a shy voice.

"Hey", said Justin.

"Well...hey", said Josh. After a pregnant pause, he asked, "How're you doing?"

"Better. You?"

"Much. It feels like the charge is pretty much gone from the shoes. They feel pretty much like regular shoes now. 'Cept they're kinda heavy lately."

Justin agreed. "Yeah, mine too. I think it's safe to say the charge has died down now. I think it took the first two weeks to lose the majority of the energy."

"Uh-huh." Josh considered. "And then another week for the residual stuff to burn off. The tranqs they gave us must've helped some. How's you're hand?"

"Huh? Oh, it's fine. Pretty much back to 100%. How'd you--?"

"Nurse told me that you nearly broke your hand trying to pound your way through the door so you could escape to be with me. I ended up pulling a tendon myself from yanking on my straps to get away to find you, too."

Justin sighed. "That first week sucked ass."

Josh sighed as well. "That it did." Then, after a moment's thought, he asked, "You still got your shoes on?"

"Yup", Justin responded. "Sure do. I figure after all this time we've given them enough time to wear down. So I guess this is it, huh?"

"This is it", Josh agreed. "It's now or never. Do we go for the right or the left first?"

"Does it matter?"

"No, I guess not. So grab a shoe and get ready to pull, man", Josh said.

"On three", Justin prompted.

"One..."

"Two..."

"THREE!"

On both ends of the line, cities apart, Josh and Justin yanked at the heel of one of their magic shoes. And they came off. Just like regular tennis shoes, they came right of in their hands.

"OmiGOD!", Justin cried.

"Fuck me! It worked!", cheered Josh.

The boys began laughing, cheering, and congratulating themselves across the phone line, each waving his shoe about like a party favor or sports pennant. Josh jumped in with, "Throw the damn thing on the floor, for God's sakes, before it gets any ideas!" Laughing harder, they both did so with relish. Without bothering with further ceremony, they each kicked off their remaining shoe immediately thereafter. For a little while following, the two boys continued laughing and just enjoying the freedom they felt. They were clean, they were free. It wouldn't be too long before they could see each other again, before they could be together. The thought occurred to them at about the same moment, and a sharp feeling of melancholy struck them. Their laughing tapered off.

After a bit of silence, Josh spoke first. "Hey, Justin, what do you say to a game of one-on-one when we get back home?"

"You're on."

"But no special shoes!", Josh amended.

Justin laughed again. "Hell, we'll play barefoot if we have to!" Josh laughed at that as well. Another pause. "Dude, you realize that now everyone thinks we're gay?"

Josh's voice went quiet. "Yeah, I know." Then, perking up, he said, "Well, we know what we really are, so that's what's important--who cares what everyone else thinks? Screw 'em!"

"Yeah!", Justin agreed, trying to sound convinced.

A few more words of chitchat were exchanged, then they said their goodbyes. Justin hung up the phone and lay back in bed, knowing he'd be released soon. He held up a photo of Josh, one taken the summer before during a camping trip. Justin stared longingly at the face in the photograph. He sat that way for some time, and wondered how he would tell Josh (if he ever could) that although his body chemistry was back to normal, his feelings were not.

Justin toyed with lame excuses, such as telling his best friend how he could no longer get in the zone for a game without kissing him first...

At the same time, dozens of miles away, Josh had the same problem. He also had a photo of Justin, one clipped from one of their basketball game programs. Josh stared at the image of his friend in his uniform, and rehearsed a conversation he suspected he might never have the nerve to go through with.

"Well, gee, man, no way we can get dates now that everyone thinks we're queer, right? But we're not gonna stop hangin' together just 'cause of what other people think. And, we do still need to get off once in a while..." Josh shook his head and rubbed the bridge of his nose. The idea alone was more absurd than his imagined approach.

In their separate rooms, in separate cities, the two boys simultaneously fought to keep back their tears. And unbeknownst to each other, they simultaneously looked into the eyes of their friend's photo, each wishing the actual person was there with them, and said the same thing out loud.

"I love you, Josh."

"I love you, Justin."

Then they both held their respective photos to their chests and very softly cried themselves to sleep.

Josh and Justin stood at opposite ends of the small outdoor basketball court and just looked at each other. It was the first time they'd seen each other in a while. It was just before dusk, and the tops of the trees and the far edges of the blacktop glowed pink. They had again chosen the out-of-the-way park court deliberately, as it was far enough away from their usual haunts that no one they knew would be likely to spot them. They were both dressed for a game of hoops, in sleeveless jerseys and matching shorts featuring the logos and colors of their favorite NBA teams. The type of shoes they wore were not as important as what they were not. They were not the special shoes Justin had brought back from Germany.

The two boys walked toward each other, stopping on the outer edges of center court. For at least a minute, they simply looked at each other, not saying anything. Neither of them had pockets in which to shove his hands, nor had either thought to bring a basketball, leaving them nothing to dribble. They fidgeted with their hands hanging awkwardly at their sides until speaking was the only option.

"Hey", Justin offered.

"Hey."

"Kinda forgot to bring the ball."

Josh gave a half-grin. "Me, too."

"What'd you do with your shoes?", Justin asked.

"Burned 'em. Took forever. It was--"

Justin finished his sentence. "Hard. Even with all the trouble they caused us, it was like I felt I was losing a friend or something."

"You burned yours, too?"

Justin nodded. "Threw 'em in a furnace. Kinda sucks." He looked up at his best friend with hopeful eyes. "How ya doing?"

"I'm okay, I guess. My shoes aren't as comfortable as the others, but, y'know, less side-effects."

Justin let out a nervous laugh at that, staring at his own Reeboks. Then, not looking up, he said, "Yeah, well, um...maybe we should hook up later when we actually remember to bring the b-ball." Justin turned and started to walk away, but Josh's voice brought him back.

"We can't avoid each other forever, man." Justin turned to see that Josh had stepped into the center of the small blacktop court, both his hands extended to his friend, hands open, palms up.

Quickly, Justin walked to his friend, placing his own hands in his. "I missed you, man."

"Me, too." Josh held his best friend's hands and for another moment, said nothing. Then, "You still wanna fuck me?"

Justin jerked back, but did not let go of Josh's hands. "Whu-what--??"

"I mean", Josh corrected, "do you still feel that urge we got from the shoes, the compulsion that was forcing us to--you know--"

Justin nodded, understanding. "Oh. Oh, yeah. That. Yeah." Then, "No! I mean, no, that whole thing is gone. I, um, I don't still feel like I'm being forced to be with you." Justin looked into Josh's eyes. "I mean, I'm totally here on my own, Josh. Because I want to be. No one's forcing me."

"Me either."

The two boys stood in silence a bit longer. Josh's thumbs gently caressing the fingertips of Justin's hands. The two boys looked at each other, then found themselves looking at the ground between them. Simultaneously, they spoke the other's name. "Josh, I have to--" "Justin, need to tell you--" Another awkward pause.

"You go first", Josh offered.

Justin swallowed hard, steeling himself. Quietly, he spoke. "Josh, dude, I think I'm still in love with you. It's like I can't help it. But it's not the shoe-thing anymore--"

"I know. I feel it too, man."

Justin looked up, his eyes beginning to tear. "I keep waiting for it to go away, to fade or something, but it won't, it doesn't. God, I still love you so much, man. It's like I don't even give a shit about girls anymore. Hotties can walk right by me and it's like they're nothing, you're all I can think about."

Josh nodded. "I know, me too. Already broke up with my girlfriend. I had to. I kept thinking of you when she and I were together. That's all I'd need if I were to say you're name when she and I had sex."

Justin smirked at that. "That could be a problem." He paused again, interlacing his fingers with Josh's. Then, "I finally found out what the German kid said to me when I left to come home. I looked it up. It wasn't 'seize a hen' ."

"What was it?"

"He'd said 'Sie sehen'."

"What's it mean?"

"It means 'You'll see'. When I asked him what the price of the shoes was, he just said that we'd see. Well, I guess we can see now, huh?" Justin and Josh moved closer to each other, their chests almost touching. Josh listened, his eyes widening with understanding. "We got the shoes, we got to dance like we were on air something, got the attention of all the girls. And on the court, we got to play like gods." And Justin looked into Josh's eyes. "And this is the price we have to pay for those brief moments of glory. We're gay now, at least toward each other, which I guess is all that matters. I'm in love with you, Josh."

"I love you too, man", Josh interjected quickly.

But Justin went on as if he hadn't heard him. "The price for just a little fame is to spend the rest of our lives as...as..." Justin swallowed back a sob. "Shit, if I had only known, I never would've taken the goddamn shoes, never would've put 'em on, never--"

"Maybe you've got it backwards", Josh said.

"What?"

"Maybe it's the other way around", Josh suggested. He let go of Justin's hands and put his palms on Justin's shoulders. Justin reflexively placed his own hands around his friend's waist. "Maybe the price we had to pay was all that temporary glory. Maybe part of the price was one incredible moment on the basketball court we'd never have again. And what we bought with that price--" And Josh rested his forehead against Justin's. "--was us. We paid the price, and now we're together."

Justin looked into Josh's eyes, only an inch or so away, and Josh looked back. Justin could feel his heart go out to his best friend, now and forever his boyfriend, and he knew that Josh's came back to him. Softly, Justin answered, "Maybe that's it."

Tenderly, Josh traced the side of Justin's face with his fingertips, and Justin did the same for Josh. Slowly, deliberately, the two boys leaned in to kiss each other, there on the deserted blacktop of the faraway court, as the sun set behind them.

They had paid their price. They saw that. And as their lips pressed together they could feel their hearts combining in a union that could not be broken.

And they knew the price was worth it.

The duo had become a familiar sight on the club circuit. And now thanks to the bristling energy they both experienced daily, Josh was just as much of a terror on the dance floor as Justin. Sometimes the two would separate and move to different sections of the club's floor and attract the attention of different girls who didn't know the boys were there clubbing together. Without fail the girls would swoon at the boys' astonishing dance moves, and then the boys would slip away to meet up at the bar and compare notes--more gratified and amused by the general responses they were getting than by the individual attentions of the girls themselves.

Usually by later in the evening, the two guys would hit the floor together, as a kind of dueling dancers, each trying to outdo the other, much to the delight of the female onlookers who cheered them on with great enthusiasm. By the end of each dance mix, the boys tended to strike a pose simultaneously, precisely at the last beat of the song. Most of the time they mirrored each other, pointing across the floor with a jabbing finger that projected the comment, "You. You da man." Everyone loved it, and the boys were an instant hit at any club they patronized.

They were just as much a hit at the club where they made their first mistake. Josh and Justin were hip-hopping, spinning, and backflipping through a dazzling dance number to the thrill of onlookers. At the finish of the song, the duo slapped a high-five at the precise moment the last beat was struck. "Yeah!!", they cried, and the other club attendants applauded, whistled, and cheered. Amid the cheers, Josh and Justin looked at each other. They still stood there, frozen in place, palms pressed together above them, staring into each other's eyes. They were both breathing hard, but it was not from the exertion of the dance.

At that moment, the lights dimmed considerably, the flashing strobe lights stopped, the glaring red and yellow colored filters shifted to a soft blue as the mirror ball slowed its rotations. Dancing queens and kings repaired to the bar as couples crowded the floor, holding tightly together as a melodious slow song filled the air. And Josh and Justin continued to stare at each other, there in the middle of the dance floor, breathing hard, palms pressed together.

Lyrics in a minor chord wafted about the club, as a song of love and devotion kept young lovers and those interested in a single night's fling spinning in time to the music. Josh and Justin's eyes were closed. They too were lost in the music. Lost in the rhythm, the verses, the sensation of giving of oneself to your heart's desire. Suddenly, their eyes blinked open simultaneously. They had been kissing, and kissing passionately, just as if they were trying to remove their rubber suits. Only there were no rubber suits on here. Something had clicked with the two of them when the dance mixes shifted over to ballads, just as they made physical contact. Without even realizing it, they had clung together and lost themselves in the dance, and the long kiss it inspired.

Instantly, the two jumped back from one another, nearly bumping into other dancers. They both gave the room a quick glance, and felt reasonably safe that due to the dimmer lighting and activity all around them that no one had caught their goof. Justin sent a silent message to Josh with his eyes. "Time to go?" Josh nodded and jerked his head toward the exits. "Definitely. Let's bail."

The duo left with haste, trying their best not to look back and find that someone had seen them kissing during the love song. They felt embarrassed enough as it was. If someone had seen, they really didn't want to know.

And unseen by the boys, two girls at the bar watched their departure. One gal was short, with unevenly-cropped bobbed hair that was poorly dyed red. Beside her sat a gum-chewing buxom girl trying to look younger than she was and not succeeding, with blonde hair piled atop her head like meringue. The gum-chewer held out her hand to the redhead and snapped her fingers. Red pulled a twenty out of her fanny pack and handed it to Blondie, who shoved it into her bra, saying, "See? Told ya they was gay. Who called it?"

Josh and Justin were as fleeting shadows on the practice court. Josh dribbled like quicksilver, and Justin fairly floated before him, looking for his opportunity to rob him of the ball.

"Y'know, I'm thinking I may be over the whole club thing for a while", Justin said.

"Yeah? Me too.", Josh agreed, not allowing Justin an opening.

"I mean, we can burn up lots of energy right here with hoops, right?" Justin feigned left then grabbed the ball from the right.

Josh went after him. "Definitely." Justin sent the ball toward the basket, but Josh leapt up and knocked it away just before it sank.

Justin was started to feel the fatigue of the game. His breathing was coming harder, and his legs felt just a bit sore. He could use a pick-me-up. He zipped over to Josh, pulling his tanktop off. Josh looked down, seeing that Justin was reaching for the concealed tabs on the side of Josh's shoes.

"Justin, what--?"

"Though maybe we could suit up. Lose your clothes."

Josh gently laid a hand atop Justin's head. "Uhh...maybe we should just stick to the shoes by themselves for a while." He shrugged. "You know, we don't want to wind up like we did at the club again and all--"

Justin was on his feet in a heartbeat, pulling back on his shirt. "Good call. Shoes only. Right. But we need a recharge. Quick kiss."

Josh reluctantly kissed his best friend, and kept it brief. Josh then pointed an admonishing finger at Justin. "But that's it now. That's our sole kiss for this match. No more. We ride it until this charge starts to wear down, then we go home. Hit the books or something. You with me?"

"Deal", Justin agreed, feeling the power surge pulsing through him once more. He waggled his fingers in mock challenge. "Show me what ya got, boy."

After the score tied at 40-40 and couldn't seem to be broken, Josh relented and allowed one more kiss. Just to help prompt a tie-breaker. Fifteen minutes later when the score was up to 52-54 in favor of Josh, Justin grabbed Josh and kissed him again by surprise so that his buddy wouldn't get too far ahead. Within another ten minutes, Justin was up by 18 points, and this time it was Josh who grabbed his friend by the shirt and pulled him into a kiss.

Within another five minutes, the score was tied again at 78-78, and the duo had kissed another fifteen times, once every 20 seconds.

Josh and Justin stopped across from each other, hunched over, hands braced upon their knees, panting loudly. They had begun to freely perspire, though fatigue seemed miles away. Their eyes locked and they paid no attention to the basketball which was now rolling off into a far corner of the gym.

Justin spoke first. "God, I want my rubber suit on so fucking bad."

Josh nodded, looking down at the floor. "Me, too." Then he looked up. "But if I let you put it on me, I swear I will never want to take it off."

"Me either", said Justin. "That a problem?"

Josh stood up, running his fingers through his hair. "Gah! We'll never burn off this energy shooting baskets, man. I'm wired! I need to move! This isn't enough! We need to--"

"Dance?" Justin arched his eyebrows as he made the suggestion.

Josh stood there, hands clutching his hair, looking at his beautiful friend, imagining him head-to-toe in rubber and feeling himself getting painfully hard. If they stayed here, they would be in their suits before another ten minutes had elapsed. He sighed. "Club?"

"Let's get changed. First round's on me."

Josh called after Justin as he sprinted for the door. "Fast dances only!"

They had never danced faster, or with more fervor.

The music in the club was deafening. The bass beat pounded with an intensity you could feel in your marrow. Lights flashed, pulsed, and shone down on the dance floor in mad splashes of color. In the midst of it all were Josh and Justin, dancing with an energy that was exhausting even for those who merely watched them.

The two had surrendered themselves to the music, allowing the beat to dictate their movements. They spun, squatted, flipped, and twirled with an endless energy that could not be denied. Both boys were thrusting their hips with a ferocity that had ceased to entertain and actually began to frighten the other clubbers. Their gymnastic moves had gone from enthralling to intrusive, as their spins circled too wide, their backflips spanned too far. Those few who elected to remain on the floor during Josh and Justin's athletic display soon found themselves driven to the far corners for their own safety.

At a pause in the beat, both boys realized what was happening to them. They had thrown themselves into the music with such abandon that they had forgotten there was even anyone else in the club, much less on the floor. But their gyrations had gained the unwelcome attention of the club's bouncers, who began to move closer to the floor, threatening looks in their eyes.

Neither Josh nor Justin could stop their dancing. They had charged themselves too fully, had too much energy to burn, and the pounding, hypnotic beat of the music was too intense to resist. But they could not risk causing a scene and being thrown out. So the duo took the hint conveyed by the bouncers' glares. They moved close together, bumping and grinding in tight circles around each other, arms lancing out over the other's shoulders, dropping suddenly to their haunches to swerve their shoulders while hovering between their partner's legs. Appearing satisfied that the disturbance was past, the scowling bouncers returned to their posts.

Oblivious, Josh and Justin spun around each other, shoulders bumping together, whirling around back-to-back, and bopping with chests touching through several dances. Their energy only increased, their restlessness climbed. This was not the remedy they had been looking for. But they were far beyond relief via a simple game of hoops.

The dance track changed, and a new beat shook the speakers and resounded through the club. Josh and Justin stopped. They had made their way to the back of the dance floor, the mirrored wall directly behind them. Both boys stopped and looked at each other. The dance music made their skin vibrate, but they had lost all desire to move to the beat. They looked into each other's eyes, panting hard. The flashing lights reflected off the mirrors and glinted within their eyes. Gingerly, Josh reached out and ran his fingertips down Justin's arm. Justin inhaled sharply. He felt a tiny portion of his energy spark away.

This was it. This was what they needed. Justin hesitantly stretched out his hand and rested his palm lightly upon Josh's shoulder. Josh closed his eyes, his head lolling to the side as he gasped quietly. He could feel it, too. They knew what they needed. They could sense--could feel--what they had to do before the energy surging within them threatened to tear them apart.

Once again, the two boys locked eyes. Then Justin jerked his head up to indicate something above and behind Josh. Josh arced his head around to see what it was. The softly glowing EXIT sign. He looked back at Justin, both of them panting. Nothing more needed to be said.

The duo half-burst, half-stumbled out of the club's rear exit and into the back alleyway. Hands all over each other, Josh and Justin stroked, kissed, and caressed with unbridled passion, unable and unwilling to stop what they were doing.

Justin's tongue invaded Josh's mouth, and the two shared kisses the depth of which neither of their girlfriends had ever experienced. Josh's hand wrapped around Justin's waist, fingers stroking him up his back and lovingly braced his head and neck. Justin rubbed at Josh's shoulders, tracing downward to knead his arms, then reach back to grasp his waist and massage his ass.

Josh stopped to catch his breath, his heart pounding like a triphammer, and placed his hands against the alley wall, gasping. Justin, his back against the wall, still held Josh by the waist, and panted furiously as he tried to continue kissing him.

"Closer", Justin panted. "Don't go. Don't leave me."

"I won't", Josh said, wheezing softly. "I'm right here."

Justin pulled Josh closer, trying to press their chests together. "You're too far. Stay with me, keep touching me. Keep--"

Josh wrapped himself tightly around Justin, kissing him with ever-increasing intensity. Justin did the same. The two rolled along the wall, knocking over trash cans and old crates, stumbling so they needed to catch themselves against the bricks, not really caring about it. The impassioned duo slammed into the back corner of the alley, their embrace still unbroken, their lips locked, tongues intertwined.

Gasping, Justin pulled his mouth free and rested his cheek against Josh's. Josh began to nibble and gnaw on Justin's ear. Justin gasped again, overcome by pleasure, by deep, uncontrollable urges for intimacy. "My--my place is a only a few blocks from here", he panted.

Josh kept at him, now kissing the side of Justin's head. "Yeah, I know." He began to suck on the side of Justin's neck.

"We should go there. We can't keep doing this here, we won't be able to stop. It'll only take us a couple of minutes."

"Can't wait that long." More kisses. Josh started to rip off his shirt.

Justin grabbed his wrist, stopping him. "We'll run."

Josh exhaled, panting as if he'd just run a marathon. "Hold my hand."

Fingers interlaced, the two ran with abandon toward Justin's place. Three city blocks away, they traversed the distance in less than a minute and half.

Josh raced into the Justin's home, Justin's legs wrapped around his waist, cradling Josh's face in his hands and smothering him with kisses. Josh kicked the door shut with one foot and the two threw themselves on the bed. Justin yanked off Josh's shirt and Josh did the same for Justin. In seconds, they were both unzipping and removing the other's pants and kicking them off over their shoes. Naked but for their shoes--which it never occurred to them to remove--the two wrestled on the bed, feeling the warmth of their bodies blend and build in temperature.

Their hands kept moving up and down their bodies, feeling the smooth, muscled flesh of their arms and legs. Rubbing their torsos, fingers gliding over the washboard abs, the trim, slender waists. Fingers reached down and clutched the inside of their thighs, held tight to their buttocks, rubbed firmly at their shoulders.

The two boys felt as if they had stepped outside of time. Minutes, hours, no longer seemed to matter. The had no idea how long they had been caressing, how long they had been kissing. It had only been for a few moments. It had been all night. Either way, it wasn't nearly long enough. And somewhere during their amorous wrestling, the smooth, firm feeling beneath their fingers changed. It was no longer the feel of warm, living skin. It was cool, soft, slick. It was rubber.

Justin pulled back from Josh by a few inches, noting that they were now both attired in their shining ebony rubber bodysuits. "Wh-when did we suit up?", Justin asked.

"Don't know", Josh panted. "Don't care. Kiss me." And he did. Over and over, again and again. The two got up on their knees, kissing faces, necks, shoulders, arms grasping at their backs, clutching their torsos.

"Stand up", Justin said.

Josh kept kissing and stroking him. "Why?"

"Just do it. Trust me."

"Oh God yes, I trust you, Justin, I trust you so much. Just don't stop."

"I won't."

Josh got off the bed, unsteady on his feet, and Justin hopped off in front of him, dropping to his knees before his best friend. Justin grabbed at Josh's ass, caressing his legs, and kissed Josh's crotch.

"Oh, buddy, that is so hot--", Josh wheezed.

Justin wasn't satisfied with being on the outside of Josh's skintight suit. The outline of Josh's erection was so clear, his member so close. But beneath the gleaming rubber sheath it may as well have been in the next county. Justin kept rubbing it, massaging it, kissing it. Until--

--a flap appeared over Josh's crotch. Not a rip, not a tear. A flap. Like undershorts have. It looked as if it had always been there. Only it hadn't. Justin didn't care to solve the mystery. All he wanted was his mouth around Josh's dick. Justin pulled out his best friend's erect penis and wrapped his hungry lips around it.

Josh inhaled sharply. "Ohhh, MA-AANN!!" Justin sucked his friend like a vacuum. Lips riding up and down the shaft, tongue licking all around the erection, Josh had to place his hands on Justin's shoulders to brace himself and keep from falling over. Justin clasped his hands around Josh's backside to prevent him from backing up. Josh's hips began to buck, his entire body to sway, nerves pulsing with imminent orgasm.

"J-j-j-ussstin--!", Josh gasped. "Let me out, man! I-I'm gonna cum! I-I c-can't hold it--!" Justin tightened his grip on Josh's rear, unwilling to let him go. "Jus-Justin--!" Josh's pleading didn't get any farther. He shot his load with a force he had never before experienced, filling Justin's mouth with stream after stream of hot semen. Justin took it all. He swallowed, gulped, and slurped down every drop as if it were a delicacy. Even when Josh was spent, Justin continued to suck him dry, pleasuring Josh's member almost to the point of a second orgasm.

Josh was reeling under wave after wave of intense sexual pleasure. He had never felt so heated. He should have felt exhausted by now, but instead his energy level, his insatiable sexual hunger, kept rising. He had to have more. But more head would not do it. Roughly, Josh grabbed hold of Justin and pulled him up to his full height. He kissed him passionately, then lifted his friend and threw him face-down upon the bed. Then Josh leapt on top of Justin, riding him from above and behind. As if he had expected this to be the next step, Justin didn't resist. He gasped out quiet words of assent and encouragement as Josh pumped furiously at Justin's rubbered behind, Josh's still-exposed penis started to slicken the shining black surface with smears of jism.

A second flap appeared. This time it was over Justin's ass. Again, not a moment was wasted in pondering how this entryway had suddenly formed. Nor how the interior of Justin's suit which had been stretched over the seat of his pants was now so moist, thick with a viscous lubricant from no evident source. Josh's intentions were no mystery, to either boy. And both wanted it so badly, there was no hesitation.

Josh entered his best friend, thrusting with all his might, as Justin called out as they both spasmed with pleasure. "Yes! YES!! Oh my God in heaven, Josh, YEEAAHH!!"

Josh reached up and traced Justin's rubbered arms with his fingertips, and kissed the middle of his back as he thrust over and over, harder and harder. Inside his suit, Justin shot an incredible load that ripped out of him like a bolt of pure lightning. Inside Justin, Josh came again, filling his best friend with steaming juices, and prompting another orgasm from Justin himself, covering the interior of his skintight suit and painting his chest and torso with warm semen.

It would not be the last orgasm for either of them. Josh continued to thrust into his friend Justin for hours. Soon both boys were caught in an intoxicating loop of action and orgasm, until they drifted into a mesmerized pattern of continuous pleasure. They had lost awareness of what they were doing and where they were well before they actually stopped engaging in their ravenous sexual heat.

The two lay side by side in the bed, gasping for breath, staring at the ceiling. Josh spoke first, reluctantly. "Holy shit. Did we just do what I thought we just did?"

Justin's ragged breathing was starting to steady as he contemplated his reply. He wanted to rationalize their experience. They were caught up in everything; the dancing, the lights, the music. They were confused. They didn't know what they were doing. They were thinking of their girlfriends... But the intense, crystal clarity of the experience came unbidden to his mind, establishing without question that they had known exactly what they were doing.

Justin swallowed hard. "I--I think we did, man."

Josh started to sit up. His hands reached up to feel the rubber suit stretched across his chest, only to find it was gone. He looked at Justin to confirm it, and sure enough, they were both naked. Naked, but dry and clean. Both their rubber suits had retracted back down into their shoes. Josh grasped the heel of his shoe and began to pull. "Dude, we've got to get these things off."

Justin propped himself up on his elbows. "Wh-what? Why?"

"Justin, they're controlling us! They made us have sex, for God's sakes! Gay sex! We gotta get rid of them!" Josh tugged fiercely at his shoe, but it wasn't coming off. He muttered through gritted teeth, " 'Slip-ons' my ass--!"

Justin braced Josh's arm with his hand. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. What, are you telling me you really think the shoes are, like, possessing us or something?"

"Hello!! When was the last time you looked at your ol' pal Josh and thought, 'Gee, I'd sure like to blow him'?? Justin--I just fucked you!!" Josh took a deep breath, as rattled by his outburst as Justin was. Then, "Something is going on here, Justin, and it has to do with these damn shoes. How many times have you fallen asleep with them on? When did you last take 'em off?"

Justin paused. "I--I'm not sure. I must've taken them off, sometime. I mean, it's not like I could wear them in the shower, anyway..."

"How would you know?! They're mostly rubber, remember? They're probably waterproof and dry fast on top of that! Justin, we've got to get them off. Right now! Now help me!"

Justin leapt off the bed and grabbed Josh's shoe. He looked at his friend with new determination in his eyes. "Pull."

They were both still pulling twenty minutes later. And another twenty-five minutes after that. The boys rotated, each trying to yank the other's shoes off in turn. Each time, the shoes tightened around their feet, clinging with an unbreakable grip.

Eventually, the two young men were dizzy from exertion and the night's escapades. Josh tried to stand up and found himself so overcome by fatigue that he stumbled backwards and collapsed onto the bed. "J-Justin, it's no use. The damn things aren't coming off. What the hell do we do now?"

Justin., equally spent, lay nearby, panting. "I dunno, man. This isn't working is all." He pushed Josh lightly on the shoulder. "You should go home. Get some sleep. I will too. We'll get the shoes off tomorrow."

Josh turned his head to look at his friend. "Justin, this is serious. We can't just leave this until--"

"Josh. I mean it. You know how you said I never thought about how nice it's be to blow you? Well, I'm thinking it right now. And if I keep grabbing you and tugging at you, I won't be able to fight it much longer. Go home."

Josh got up, gathering up his clothes. "Okay, tomorrow morning, then." He jumped into his pants (funny how the shoes let the pants slip right on) and yanked on his shirt. Without thinking, Josh leaned over and gave Justin a quick kiss on the forehead. "See ya then."

Justin drifted off to sleep and Josh departed, neither one truly realizing what Josh had just done. As Josh headed for home, he was only dimly aware of the fact that his shoes had stopped tightly gripping his feet, and felt as comfortable as they did when he first put them on.

When Josh got home, he pulled off his shirt and yanked off his pants, tossing them into the far corner of his room. He collapsed face-down on his bed, naked but for his magic shoes. He wasn't sure why he elected to sleep that way. For some reason, it just felt right.

Josh rolled over in bed, slowly rousing to wakefulness, feeling absolutely wonderful. He was still riding a wave of the sensual sensation he exchanged with Justin the night before. But as he blinked his eyes and came fully awake, a feeling of dread pervaded his mind, as he realized the lingering sensations of pleasure were small compensation for the trap they'd found themselves in. Josh rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling, wondering what they were going to do next. He wiggled his toes and could still feel the shoes on his feet beneath the blankets. Josh closed his eyes and let out a deep breath of frustration. He knew he'd need to meet with Justin, to compare notes and try to come up with some way to remove their magic shoes. If he could only get in the same room with Justin without feeling compelled to kiss him...

Josh sat up, throwing back the sheets and blankets, and plopped his feet down on the floor. He was about to stand up to get dressed when he saw that wouldn't be necessary. But he hadn't fallen asleep with his clothes on.

"Oh, fuck..." Josh looked down at himself and saw that he was once again covered in the skintight rubber suit attached to his shoes. Reflexively, he reached up to the snug high collar around his neck and tried to pull it down. It felt like he was trying to remove his own skin. He peeled desperately at the sleeve cuffs hugging his wrists and tried to dig underneath them with his fingernails. Nothing doing.

Josh jumped up out of bed, his hands running through his hair, his eyes darting wildly about the room. Then he gasped slightly. The mere action of getting up, of feeling the rubber suit--the rubber skin--stretching over his crotch area caused him to spring an erection. He was becoming aroused again. Seriously aroused. "Shit, no...", he whispered.

Now he had to call Justin.

---

Justin picked up the phone on the first ring. "Josh?" Despite the lack of Caller I.D., he knew who it was.

"We got a problem here, man."

"Same here. Are you in--"

"The rubber suit, Justin! The fucking rubber suit, and it won't come off! I can't get it off me! It's like it won't let go!" Josh's voice switched from panic to outrage. "I thought you said we couldn't put these things on by ourselves. You said it takes two people. So how the hell--"

"It does! It shouldn't! I mean, I don't know what happened, man! I thought you couldn't get the suits on without help, but I woke up wearing mine, too. I swear I don't know how they got back on." And he paused. Then, "Or--or how to get them off."

"Shit, I'm gonna get some scissors and just fucking shred this thing--"

"No, don't!!", Justin yelled.

"Shit, who cares about your stupid shoes anymore, man. I'm like a big orgasm factory here, Justin. I'm overcharged and I'm going crazy." And, he thought, all I can think about is you. "We should'a just done this in the first place. Damn thing is coming off in pieces--"

"Josh, please, stop!", Justin cried. He could hear the sound of a drawer opening and the clink of metal scissors being removed on the other end of the line. "I already tried that!"

Josh stopped, setting down the scissors slowly. "What'd you say?"

"Just like an hour ago after I woke up. I tried to cut my rubber suit so I could peel it off."

"And--??"

"I almost cut myself, bad. Every time I tried to cut it away, it would hug extra tight to my body, like it was glued to--like it was part of my skin. I couldn't cut the suit without tearing into myself. When I finally gave up and put the knife down, the damn thing actually relaxed, and fit more comfortably again. It's like it knew, Josh."

The two boys sat holding the phone in silence for a while. Finally, Josh said, "What are you thinking about?"

"Having sex with you. It's all I can think about." He laughed, an ironic snort. "Even trapped inside a magic rubber suit with a mind of its own, all I can think about is screwing you. Jesus."

"Me, too. You think it might make the suits retract again if we do?"

"I don't know. Maybe. I'll try anything at this point."

Josh sighed. "I'll throw something baggy over the top of this and be right over."

"Hurry."

---

Josh entered Justin's place quickly, without knocking. Justin rushed to greet him, not with a hello, but with "Thank God."

Josh yanked off the baggy sweats he'd tossed atop his rubber bodysuit and said, "Let's get to it, man." Then pausing, he said, "Which one of us is going to take it?"

Justin turned around, bending over to offer his rear to his friend. "Like it matters at this point. Do me. Just...just do what you gotta do." Justin shut his eyes and braced his hands against his knees, ready to accept Josh inside him.

"Right." Josh grabbed up the bottle of lube he'd brought with him, and slopped an excessive amount on his hand. Reaching down to stroke himself, the fly flap suddenly appeared and he began to lubricate his protruding member. Then, he gently felt around Justin's ass for the rear entry flap that should appear now that they had begun their business. Within moments, it was there, beneath his fingers, and he pulled it open and began to lube Justin's behind.

For a split-second, Josh had an idea and tried to force open the rear entry flap on Justin's suit farther, to perhaps provide his friend with a means of escape. The flap wouldn't open any farther than it had to.

"Just get on with it, Josh", Justin sighed, realizing what his friend was attempting.

"Okay. In and out, man. I'll make it quick." Josh began to push himself forward to enter Justin, but just as the head of his penis made contact with Justin's crack, something happened. The flap began to close up.

"What the hell?!", Josh blurted out.

"What?", Justin asked "What's the matter?"

Josh jumped back in surprise as he watched Justin's rear flap close and then disappear without a trace. All that remained was taut rubber stretched across that perfect ass. "It's gone, man! Your suit flap closed up!"

Justin spun around. "What, are you serious??" Then, pointing at Josh's crotch, he said, "Look." Both the boys looked in horror as Josh's fly opening slowly closed up. The rubber moved just so, caused his erect penis to press up against his abs, and the rubber to seal seamlessly over the top of it. Now both boys were trapped back inside their skintight rubber prisons.

"What the fuck?!", Josh exploded. "What is this, torture or something? We're horny as hell, we HAVE to fuck each other, and now we can't?? What the hell is going on?!" Josh began to pace the room, grasping his hair in handfuls and cursing.

Justin collapsed on the couch, his head in his hands. Then, his head popped up and he whispered "Oh, my God..."

Josh whirled around to face him. "What?" Justin's words had the tone of discovery.

Justin looked at the clock on the wall. Then, to Josh, said, "How much time have you got?"

"What the hell does it matter what my schedule is like when we're--"

Justin waved the protest away. "No, I mean how long do you have until you're officially late for something?"

Josh looked at the clock. "An hour, I guess. Maybe a little more."

"Use it."

"What?"

"Use the whole hour, Josh. If we want this to work, I think--" And Justin paused to collect himself. "I think we have to go slow."

The light came on in Josh's eyes. Magical shoes with retractable suits created by a foreign man with a foreign sense of behavior. A foreign gay man. Josh nodded, slowly, and approached Justin, taking a seat beside him on the couch.

Hands trembling, Josh reached up to touch Justin's hair. As Justin lightly held Josh's wrists, the boy's hand worked their way slowly through the blond head of hair, fingers intertwining around tight curls. Justin moved Josh's hand over to cradle his face. Josh let his other hand fall as in slow motion, down from Justin's hair, along the side of his face, over his shoulder, down his arm to hold his hand. Justin reached over Josh's shoulders and slid his fingers around to his back, drawing his friend closer.

The two young men kissed, slowly at first, then with increased passion. Josh reached down and began to rub Justin's crotch, moving his palm in a circular motion, pumping up his friend's erection. Josh's fingers curled around the stiff member beneath the sleek rubber, and worked to get a grip for masturbating his best friend.

Justin clutched his friend's wrist, stopping the motion. "Not yet. Kiss me."

Josh held Justin's head with both hands, filling his palms with blond curls, his tongue working its way into Justin's mouth. Justin stroked Josh's sides, his lithe fingers caressing Josh's torso.

Their kissing, stroking, and massaging went on more than half an hour. Finally, the two of them lying one atop the other on the couch, Justin gasped, "Josh, I can't take it anymore. I can't hold it in."

Josh wheezed, "Me neither. Can I--?"

"Do me.", Justin ordered. "I want you inside me. I need you there."

Josh forced his way tighter against his closest friend, and could feel the rubber flap over his penis open easily. He moved his member forward and found Justin's hole. It was exposed, the rear flap opening even as Josh moved forward. Josh entered Justin slowly, oh so slowly, and Justin inhaled deeply as he accepted Josh within him.

Justin reached out and clutched his friend's strong arms, which in turn held his tight waist. The two boys pumped as one, and found themselves saying words they could not control, could not stop. "Oh, yes, I love you, Josh." "Oh God, oh God, I love you too, Justin." "Love you--never leave me." "I won't, I won't, I love you too much."

Before long, Josh came inside Justin, but they both knew it wasn't enough. It took another half hour and three more orgasms before the boys could bring themselves to separate. Even then, they clung to each other, gently kissing, whispering of their devoted affections. This was something for which they were woefully unprepared. In order to make their empowering rubber suits retract back into their shoes, the boys couldn't simply have sex.

They had to make love.

---

Considering the disturbing and bizarre way the day began for the boys, the rest of it could not have gone better. Both Josh and Justin were bristling with energy all day and rode an intoxicating natural high. Their mouths formed easy, wide smiles they couldn't have removed with a jack hammer. Unfortunately, they also couldn't remove their shoes, but the residual effects of having them on was so invigorating, Josh and Justin were willing to forget about that problem for now.

They went about every task of the day with vigor and enthusiasm. They charmed everyone they met, be they friends of strangers. Homework seemed a breeze, and hours spent at their part-time jobs flew by in no time.

By day's end, they still felt fantastic, but for a genuine need to burn off some excess energy. Opting for a favorite pastime, the boys met for a quick game of hoops. Since it was a beautiful day (and they wanted to avoid any temptation to pull on their rubber suits), they met on an outdoor court that was sufficiently secluded to ensure that it would be empty and waiting for them.

Justin darted along the small blacktop court behind a rarely-used playground. He dribbled with energy and finesse, but still found Josh a worthy adversary. He hadn't had a decent one-on-one match like those he now shared with his best friend since before the shoes. As he dribbled, swerved, and avoided his pal, Justin spoke. "So how ya doin' today?"

"Way better", Josh answered, bounding after Justin, arms waving to take the ball or at least block his buddy's shot. "Had energy to burn all day." Josh crouched and sprang past Justin, his fingertips gripping the ball and ripping it free of Justin's hands. He was in the act of dribbling before both his feet were back on the ground. "Still do."

"Me, too", Justin agreed, not breaking stride. The two dodged around like that for a few minutes, neither one slowing nor breaking a sweat. "Still can't get the shoes off, though."

"Me neither." Josh skidded to a stop and began to spin on his heel to make a basket.

Justin used the split-second pause to snag the ball away and bound around Josh with it, leaping ten feet in the air and sending it through the basket with a soft "shooft". He snatched up the ball and spun it on the tip of his finger. "Nothin' but net." Slapping his forearm playfully, Justin sent the ball arcing easily over into Josh's hands.

Josh held the ball, staring at it. Speaking into the ball, he said, "So what are we gonna do about this, man? The aftereffects of the shoes are great an' all, but--" and he paused. "But I can't keep on like--I'm always thinking about--"

Justin gently took back the ball with both hands. "I know. Same here." Josh stood still as Justin wandered aimlessly around the tiny court, randomly dribbling the ball.

"Maybe", Josh suggested, stuffing his hands in his pockets, "maybe if we, like use up all the energy we get from these things, the shoes, but never recharge them after, that might make 'em come off. I mean, then we might be able to take them off. You said yourself they don't stay charged forever."

Justin stopped dribbling and considered it. He looked doubtful, but said in what he hoped was an optimistic voice, "That could work." He tossed the ball back to Josh, saying, "Let's get started on burning up that energy. 17-16, my lead."

The boys played some more, enjoying the sunshine, the fine breeze, the fresh air as they dribbled, jumped, and dunked. It was almost a forgotten treat, to throw themselves into a friendly basketball game minus the superpowered excess they had indulged in of late. For some time, neither one of them spoke. Both Josh and Justin lost themselves in the fun and movement of the game, appreciating the challenge of an even match. They smiled, laughed, grunted as they executed quick saves (or losses), and whistled in recognition of a good shot. For the first time in a long time, they were simply having a good time being themselves.

It was in that relaxed atmosphere that they grew careless. They had been playing for more than half an hour. The score was 20-19. Josh was in the lead, one basket away from game point. Justin was determined not to let him have it. As Josh spun into a position to make his shot, Justin leapt behind him, arms wide, ready to grab the ball from the air when it left his friend's hands.

And Josh's back brushed up against Justin's chest.

There was a palpable charge that passed between them that stopped them both in their tracks. They stood staring at one another. Josh still held the ball, his hands sliding across its surface, his eyes on Justin. Justin traced the arc of his pecs with his fingers, feeling the spot where the two had connected. They were both breathing hard from their game, sweating freely, their youthful musk apparent in such close quarters.

Justin shuffled two feet forward, as did Josh. Josh kept the ball up, between them, as his neck craned seemingly of its own accord, his mouth pursed into a kiss. Justin pressed against Josh's fingers which clutched the ball. His own fingers reaching to make contact with Josh's bare arms. Justin's, slick with perspiration, lightly touched Josh's heated forearms. Justin applied a soft, tender pressure to Josh's arms, massaging them with his thumb. Beneath his hands, Justin could feel both their pulses rise. Again, their eyes met.

The ball bounced across the blacktop and then rolled to the edge where it tumbled onto the grass. Josh and Justin were locked in a loving embrace, kissing each other passionately, feeling the surge of energy coming both from their shoes and from their loins. They each sprang rock-hard erections as their hands stroked and massaged their arms, backs, shoulders, and behinds.

Their grasp was so intense that the two boys lost their balance and tumbled to the blacktop court in a tangle of arms and legs. Neither one cared. They continued to kiss with unbridled passion, tongues probing deep inside their mouths, arms clutching, holding, hugging.

Unseen by either Justin or Josh, a ripple of ebony seeped out of their shoes. Climbing, flowing, the gleaming black rubber of their contracting suits ran up their legs, coating their bodies in a latex sheen. The rubber fluid flowed ever upward, clinging tight to their bodies, making its way under their nylon shorts, beneath their boxer briefs, and up below their jerseys. In less than a minute, the suits had snaked their way over the boys' entire bodies, settling snugly at the wrists and high neck collar. The rubber coating served only to intensify their desire, and they remained there, kissing passionately on the deserted blacktop, until well into sundown.

---

Ever since that night on the blacktop, the rubber suits had become a ubiquitous presence in the boys' lives. Every morning they awoke trapped in their arousing skintight rubber prisons. They then had to meet to make love every morning just to get the suits to retract. They had started setting their alarm clocks at least an hour earlier each day to provide for their required interlude. The shoes remained as immovable as ever.

The one benefit, if such a situation can be said to have benefits, was that Josh and Justin were bristling with constant energy. Basketball season had started for their team, and Josh and Justin lead the group in hard practices, showing an unending willingness to put in extra hours, even on weekends, to get their moves down. They always stayed late to either put in more time on free throws or aid with cleanup.

They had to. They had do something--anything--to burn their stockpile of energy to prevent themselves from falling into an embrace while others were present.

The game season helped. Josh and Justin quickly became the team's MVPs. Their enthusiasm, stamina, and endurance left everyone else, on either team, in the dust. The coach and a few others were concerned that the two might be taking speed, but they showed none of the physical side effects or symptoms of such abuse. In the end, their constant barrage of energy was dismissed as nothing more than a sincere and passionate love of the game.

In the game that would decide who would go to State Finals, Josh and Justin deliberately did everything in their power to overextend themselves. They always went for the more difficult shots, took greater risks, ran faster, pushed harder. That morning as Justin lay beneath his best friend and Josh pumped inside him, the two had made a pact. They would get their team to the Finals, and then play that game without their magic shoes. They would give the penultimate game everything they had and then some. They would push until they were ready to drop and then dig deep give some more. They promised each other, even as Josh reached climax and shot into Justin, prompting him to cum as well, that they would drain those gleaming, indestructible, damnable shoes until they shriveled up and fell from their feet. And that night at the game, that was precisely what they did.

That night they were terrors on the court, their movements almost a blur. But it wasn't enough.

Josh and Justin both felt restless and found it difficult to concentrate. Despite their flawless playing while the clock ran, in between time they fidgeted, unable to sit still. They felt as if they were in some kind of withdrawal. And in a sense, that's what they were. Their groins ached with unattended hard-ons, their skin crawled with the need for human contact. For contact with each other. Their morning meetings aside, they had made a valiant effort not to engage in any kissing, affectionate displays, or use of the suits beyond the necessity to escape them at each day's start.

Their energy was draining, but it was taking its toll. Twice the boys caught themselves holding hands in between plays. They made an effort to stand as far away from each other as possible throughout the event. Their discomfort at being in close proximity to one another was so apparent that a few other players asked if the two friends had suffered a falling out.

After what seemed an interminable amount of time, the game was over and Josh and Justin's team had won by a fair margin. The two boys looked at each other from opposite ends of the bench with determined expressions. As the other teammates leapt and cheered over their victory, Justin gave an exaggerated wipe of his brow to Josh, miming "Thank God that's over!" Josh rolled his eyes as if to say back, "I hear you, man."

In the locker room after the game, Justin and Josh lingered with a promise to catch up as their fellow players headed out for an evening of celebration. Alone in the rank surroundings, both boys breathed a sigh of relief.

"How do you feel?", Josh asked.

"Like shit. Like I've just run a marathon barefoot on broken glass. You?"

"Worse. Drained. And I'm so fucking hard I could screw a pooch, literally. But all I can think about is doing--"

Justin held up a hand. "Don't say it, you'll get me started. But we both feel pretty damn whipped, which is what we wanted." Justin threw his backpack over one shoulder as Josh pulled on his jacket. "Now we go home, relax, and pull like our lives depended on it and we don't stop until we get these goddamn shoes off."

"Damn right", Josh smirked. "Good luck, buddy."

"You, too."

And without even thinking about it, Josh leaned over and gave Justin a quick peck for luck.

And that was the end of that. Afire with days of repressed passion, Josh and Justin leapt into each other's arms with no possible power to resist. Justin's backpack hit the floor, soon followed by Josh's jacket. The sound of tearing clothes and smothered moans echoed off the walls of the deserted locker room. Before long, the sounds were replaced by a squeak. A steady, ongoing squeak. It was the sound of rubber pressing and rubbing against the metal of locker doors and tiled walls. And then tiled floors.

The rubbered MVPs loved one another passionately alone in the dank room, helpless to resist their mutual attraction. It would be five hours before they would be able to separate themselves. It would be another three before they could coerce their rubber suits to withdraw.

---

At State Finals, Josh and Justin were invincible.

The boys tore across the court in a blur, each using the other as an extension of himself, passing at precisely the right moment to advance the ball, easily avoiding blocks, rendering the opposing players useless. The roar of the crowd was nothing compared to the roar from the blood pounding in each boy's ears. This is what they were made for, what they lived for. It wasn't even near the end of the first quarter yet, and they were already ahead 42 to 2.

Josh and Justin had not anticipate the intoxicating high they would experience following their locker room lovemaking. Holding back for days only to release everything all at once left them giddy to the point of delirium. They were playing an incredible game, and despite their other predicament, had never felt so happy.

The rest of Josh and Justin's teammates didn't seem terribly happy at the way in which they had been practically cut from the team, as the two hyper-energized boys whizzed past them as if they were standing still. But even the disgruntled home players had to be impressed when Josh landed a 40-foot jump shot into nothing but net. Or when Justin leapt high over an opposing player's head and sent the ball forward to make a basket as he completed his leap with a double somersault.

The opposition seemed to be moving in slow motion, if not actually frozen in place. Josh and Justin navigated the floor around them with ridiculous ease, performing tricks with the ball as they advanced to score basket after basket. The crowd had never seen anything like it. Neither had the announcers. All of whom were caught between shouts of triumph and incoherent babbling as they grabbed the arms of those beside them, pointed at the athletic spectacle and asked if they could believe what they were seeing.

The coach watched with his mouth held in a grim line. He had never seen either of them play like this. They wouldn't sit still. They couldn't sit still. Thoughts of drugs, of steroids, of God Knows What Else raced through his mind. This wasn't just phenomenal ball playing. This was simply unnatural, and he had to put a stop to it. After this quarter, he would pull both boys from the game. He had to find out what was up. Well...maybe after the second quarter. When he was sure they were far enough ahead that the opposing team could never catch up.

But pulling the boys by the end of the second quarter may not be soon enough. The longer they stayed on the court, the more extraordinary their feats became. Josh tore down the court dribbling the ball at such a pace that it appeared to be steady orange line, connecting his hand to the hardwood. He darted in and out between opposing players and vaulted--from a standing position--through the air, over the head of the visitors' tallest player, passing the ball to Justin while in midair. Justin snatched the ball and sped towards the basket, spinning and ducking away from oncoming players. He squatted down on his haunches and flew upwards, twisting his body like a high-diver, and rocketed the ball through the basket before winding away, over the top of the backboard, to land lightly behind it. As his shoes touched the floor, the first quarter ended. 66 to 2, in favor of Home.

Josh and Justin bounded toward each other, and leaping ten feet in the sir, gave each other the high-five. They should have known better than to have made physical contact.

While the crowd roared, whooping and hollering, and both coaches scratched their heads and tried to determine what the hell was going on--Josh and Justin froze, center court, staring into each other's eyes. The noise and commotion all around them became a dim hum of white noise, as the two boys threw their arms around each other in a passionate embrace. They kissed like lovers, which like it or not, is what they had become. Josh clutched Justin's shoulders and Justin ran his hands across Josh's back. Nothing else mattered. They were alone in the world, alone with their love for each other, and nothing could take that away. Nothing could separate them from each other.

"I love you, Josh!", said Justin, arms on his boyfriend's shoulders.

"I love you, Justin!", his lover answered, leaning forward so their foreheads touched. Their hearts were pounding, but all else was quiet.

Then they both realized that all else really was quiet. Slowly, they turned their heads towards the stands. Hundreds upon hundreds of spectators sat gaping. Their two star athletes--their heroes--had just exchanged a passionate kiss on the center court. In front of their fellow teammates, the opposing team, their coach, their classmates, the cameras--in front of everyone. Had anyone chosen that moment to drop a pin in the nosebleed section, you could have heard it from the parking lot

Josh gulped loudly. Justin spoke one word.

"Whoops."

---

The college chancellor was a certified hardcore basketball fanatic. In his twenty-one years at the university, he had never once missed a game, he had never allowed his enjoyment of a game to be interrupted. Rumor has it that when he was informed during the playoffs that his mother had just died, he told the messenger to "put her on ice" until after the game. And in all his time at the university, the chancellor had never once left a game early. Until today.

He and the coach marched down the hallways side-by-side, the coach trailing maybe a pace or two behind. "Where are they?", growled the chancellor.

"In the reception area outside your office", the coach told him. "We brought them there after we escorted them off the court."

"Never in my life have I ever seen a fiasco like this", the chancellor said. "The way they were leaping and bounding all over that court, like some kind of damn--"

"Gymnastics event?"

"Circus! More like a circus! They turned our team into a circus sideshow, damn homo jumping jacks! What the hell do you suppose they're on, anyway? PCP? Crack?"

"I have no idea, but I assure you, we're going to find out right now."

The coach and the chancellor stormed into the office reception area, eyes glaring and tempers fuming. They stopped, barely inside the door, their curses and accusations dying in their throats.

Josh and Justin sat on opposite ends of the wooden bench along the far wall. Since the two boys were the only ones in the room, it made for an interesting sight, as the bench was nearly twenty feet long. Both Josh and Justin clung to the edges of the bench with a white-knuckle grip. Both of them were clad head-to-toe in their skintight, shining black rubber suits. As the men entered, the boys met their gaze, a look of desperation in their eyes, their breathing ragged, as they both did their utmost not to make eye contact with one another.

"What the Sam Hill...", the coach muttered.

"What is this?", the chancellor demanded. "Where did they--where did you get those, those outfits?"

"Both of you, get over here, right now! Hartley, Timberlind--move!"

The boys were reluctant to heed their coach's words. If they let go of their ends of the bench, they knew they'd be all over each other. But they risked it, standing up and slowly approaching the two men--all while keeping a twenty-foot distance from one another.

"What the hell is this, are you guarding Buckingham Palace or something?", the coach growled. "Get your faggoty asses right here in front of me, now!!"

The boys moved, their loyalty overriding their common sense, and stood beside each other as the coach prepared to ream them a new one. He launched into what he was sure was a terrifying speech about loss of respect, destroying the school's image and reputation, and having televised their shenanigans (and he actually used that word, too, "shenanigans") to who knew how many thousands of viewers. The chancellor stood behind the coach, arms crossed, face red with barely contained fury, waiting his turn.

The boys heard none of it. Josh and Justin were too busy trying their damnedest to stand still, to keep from wrapping their arms around each other, from kissing and stroking and then eventually surrendering to that divine moment wherein one of them would enter the other, that the two of them would be as one. Justin was focusing his eyes on a wart on the coach's forehead, and the tiny hair that protruded from it. Can't get charged up looking at that. Josh was staring intently at the liver spots on the side of the chancellor's neck, reminding himself that there really were some things in the world that didn't make him think about sex with Justin.

"And if you two little fairies think for one goddamn second that this--", the coach stopped, noticing that both boys were sweating profusely, their arms and bodies tense. He looked down to see that their legs were shaking violently, as if they had been straining their muscles tensely against a powerful force they couldn't resist for much longer. "Just what the fuck did you two idiots take, anyway? What are you on?"

The coach smacked Josh in the arm, and his body brushed lightly against Justin's. That was all it took. Justin cried out, "God, I'm sorry!" at the same time Josh said, "We can't help it!" And the two boys were all over each other.

Rubbered arms and legs tangled all over themselves, and the boys kissed madly and pressed their fingers against each other's bodies. Hips thrust, tongues probed, and the boys whimpered as they fought in vain against the overpowering passion which had claimed them. For all they knew, the coach, the chancellor, and the rest of the human race had ceased to exist.

---

It took fifteen minutes and four grown men to pry the two boys apart.

Justin waited as the phone on the other end of line rang. It had taken him the better part of an hour to get up the courage to dial.

It had been a month since the fiasco at State Finals, and all seemed to be back to normal. Neither Justin or Josh needed to be strapped down anymore, and both of them were off their medication. They had been kept apart, in two different cities a good three-hour's drive from each other.

The first week was the worst, the constant, urgent need to be with each other, the ache both in body and spirit as they yearned so desperately to be reunited. There was a botched attempt by doctors to cut away their rubber suits, but they eventually had the smarts to leave them alone. After about four days, the suits receded of their own accord. No one but the boys were on hand to see it when it happened, so each caregiver assumed that another one of them had figured it out.

The shoes remained a mystery to everyone. At first, they diagnosed a terrible swelling in the feet as a side effect of whatever unnamed drug the boys had apparently taken. Later, it was considered some strange psychological dependency relating to the boys' mutual love of basketball. As it seemed leaving them on would cause no harm, the boys were indulged. Little did anyone know that at this point the boys would have lopped off their own legs with a hack saw to be rid of the damn things.

By the fourth ring, the other line picked up.

"Hello?", came a shy voice.

"Hey", said Justin.

"Well...hey", said Josh. After a pregnant pause, he asked, "How're you doing?"

"Better. You?"

"Much. It feels like the charge is pretty much gone from the shoes. They feel pretty much like regular shoes now. 'Cept they're kinda heavy lately."

Justin agreed. "Yeah, mine too. I think it's safe to say the charge has died down now. I think it took the first two weeks to lose the majority of the energy."

"Uh-huh." Josh considered. "And then another week for the residual stuff to burn off. The tranqs they gave us must've helped some. How's you're hand?"

"Huh? Oh, it's fine. Pretty much back to 100%. How'd you--?"

"Nurse told me that you nearly broke your hand trying to pound your way through the door so you could escape to be with me. I ended up pulling a tendon myself from yanking on my straps to get away to find you, too."

Justin sighed. "That first week sucked ass."

Josh sighed as well. "That it did." Then, after a moment's thought, he asked, "You still got your shoes on?"

"Yup", Justin responded. "Sure do. I figure after all this time we've given them enough time to wear down. So I guess this is it, huh?"

"This is it", Josh agreed. "It's now or never. Do we go for the right or the left first?"

"Does it matter?"

"No, I guess not. So grab a shoe and get ready to pull, man", Josh said.

"On three", Justin prompted.

"One..."

"Two..."

"THREE!"

On both ends of the line, cities apart, Josh and Justin yanked at the heel of one of their magic shoes. And they came off. Just like regular tennis shoes, they came right of in their hands.

"OmiGOD!", Justin cried.

"Fuck me! It worked!", cheered Josh.

The boys began laughing, cheering, and congratulating themselves across the phone line, each waving his shoe about like a party favor or sports pennant. Josh jumped in with, "Throw the damn thing on the floor, for God's sakes, before it gets any ideas!" Laughing harder, they both did so with relish. Without bothering with further ceremony, they each kicked off their remaining shoe immediately thereafter. For a little while following, the two boys continued laughing and just enjoying the freedom they felt. They were clean, they were free. It wouldn't be too long before they could see each other again, before they could be together. The thought occurred to them at about the same moment, and a sharp feeling of melancholy struck them. Their laughing tapered off.

After a bit of silence, Josh spoke first. "Hey, Justin, what do you say to a game of one-on-one when we get back home?"

"You're on."

"But no special shoes!", Josh amended.

Justin laughed again. "Hell, we'll play barefoot if we have to!" Josh laughed at that as well. Another pause. "Dude, you realize that now everyone thinks we're gay?"

Josh's voice went quiet. "Yeah, I know." Then, perking up, he said, "Well, we know what we really are, so that's what's important--who cares what everyone else thinks? Screw 'em!"

"Yeah!", Justin agreed, trying to sound convinced.

A few more words of chitchat were exchanged, then they said their goodbyes. Justin hung up the phone and lay back in bed, knowing he'd be released soon. He held up a photo of Josh, one taken the summer before during a camping trip. Justin stared longingly at the face in the photograph. He sat that way for some time, and wondered how he would tell Josh (if he ever could) that although his body chemistry was back to normal, his feelings were not.

Justin toyed with lame excuses, such as telling his best friend how he could no longer get in the zone for a game without kissing him first...

At the same time, dozens of miles away, Josh had the same problem. He also had a photo of Justin, one clipped from one of their basketball game programs. Josh stared at the image of his friend in his uniform, and rehearsed a conversation he suspected he might never have the nerve to go through with.

"Well, gee, man, no way we can get dates now that everyone thinks we're queer, right? But we're not gonna stop hangin' together just 'cause of what other people think. And, we do still need to get off once in a while..." Josh shook his head and rubbed the bridge of his nose. The idea alone was more absurd than his imagined approach.

In their separate rooms, in separate cities, the two boys simultaneously fought to keep back their tears. And unbeknownst to each other, they simultaneously looked into the eyes of their friend's photo, each wishing the actual person was there with them, and said the same thing out loud.

"I love you, Josh."

"I love you, Justin."

Then they both held their respective photos to their chests and very softly cried themselves to sleep.

---

Josh and Justin stood at opposite ends of the small outdoor basketball court and just looked at each other. It was the first time they'd seen each other in a while. It was just before dusk, and the tops of the trees and the far edges of the blacktop glowed pink. They had again chosen the out-of-the-way park court deliberately, as it was far enough away from their usual haunts that no one they knew would be likely to spot them. They were both dressed for a game of hoops, in sleeveless jerseys and matching shorts featuring the logos and colors of their favorite NBA teams. The type of shoes they wore were not as important as what they were not. They were not the special shoes Justin had brought back from Germany.

The two boys walked toward each other, stopping on the outer edges of center court. For at least a minute, they simply looked at each other, not saying anything. Neither of them had pockets in which to shove his hands, nor had either thought to bring a basketball, leaving them nothing to dribble. They fidgeted with their hands hanging awkwardly at their sides until speaking was the only option.

"Hey", Justin offered.

"Hey."

"Kinda forgot to bring the ball."

Josh gave a half-grin. "Me, too."

"What'd you do with your shoes?", Justin asked.

"Burned 'em. Took forever. It was--"

Justin finished his sentence. "Hard. Even with all the trouble they caused us, it was like I felt I was losing a friend or something."

"You burned yours, too?"

Justin nodded. "Threw 'em in a furnace. Kinda sucks." He looked up at his best friend with hopeful eyes. "How ya doing?"

"I'm okay, I guess. My shoes aren't as comfortable as the others, but, y'know, less side-effects."

Justin let out a nervous laugh at that, staring at his own Reeboks. Then, not looking up, he said, "Yeah, well, um...maybe we should hook up later when we actually remember to bring the b-ball." Justin turned and started to walk away, but Josh's voice brought him back.

"We can't avoid each other forever, man." Justin turned to see that Josh had stepped into the center of the small blacktop court, both his hands extended to his friend, hands open, palms up.

Quickly, Justin walked to his friend, placing his own hands in his. "I missed you, man."

"Me, too." Josh held his best friend's hands and for another moment, said nothing. Then, "You still wanna fuck me?"

Justin jerked back, but did not let go of Josh's hands. "Whu-what--??"

"I mean", Josh corrected, "do you still feel that urge we got from the shoes, the compulsion that was forcing us to--you know--"

Justin nodded, understanding. "Oh. Oh, yeah. That. Yeah." Then, "No! I mean, no, that whole thing is gone. I, um, I don't still feel like I'm being forced to be with you." Justin looked into Josh's eyes. "I mean, I'm totally here on my own, Josh. Because I want to be. No one's forcing me."

"Me either."

The two boys stood in silence a bit longer. Josh's thumbs gently caressing the fingertips of Justin's hands. The two boys looked at each other, then found themselves looking at the ground between them. Simultaneously, they spoke the other's name. "Josh, I have to--" "Justin, need to tell you--" Another awkward pause.

"You go first", Josh offered.

Justin swallowed hard, steeling himself. Quietly, he spoke. "Josh, dude, I think I'm still in love with you. It's like I can't help it. But it's not the shoe-thing anymore--"

"I know. I feel it too, man."

Justin looked up, his eyes beginning to tear. "I keep waiting for it to go away, to fade or something, but it won't, it doesn't. God, I still love you so much, man. It's like I don't even give a shit about girls anymore. Hotties can walk right by me and it's like they're nothing, you're all I can think about."

Josh nodded. "I know, me too. Already broke up with my girlfriend. I had to. I kept thinking of you when she and I were together. That's all I'd need if I were to say you're name when she and I had sex."

Justin smirked at that. "That could be a problem." He paused again, interlacing his fingers with Josh's. Then, "I finally found out what the German kid said to me when I left to come home. I looked it up. It wasn't 'seize a hen' ."

"What was it?"

"He'd said 'Sie sehen'."

"What's it mean?"

"It means 'You'll see'. When I asked him what the price of the shoes was, he just said that we'd see. Well, I guess we can see now, huh?" Justin and Josh moved closer to each other, their chests almost touching. Josh listened, his eyes widening with understanding. "We got the shoes, we got to dance like we were on air something, got the attention of all the girls. And on the court, we got to play like gods." And Justin looked into Josh's eyes. "And this is the price we have to pay for those brief moments of glory. We're gay now, at least toward each other, which I guess is all that matters. I'm in love with you, Josh."

"I love you too, man", Josh interjected quickly.

But Justin went on as if he hadn't heard him. "The price for just a little fame is to spend the rest of our lives as...as..." Justin swallowed back a sob. "Shit, if I had only known, I never would've taken the goddamn shoes, never would've put 'em on, never--"

"Maybe you've got it backwards", Josh said.

"What?"

"Maybe it's the other way around", Josh suggested. He let go of Justin's hands and put his palms on Justin's shoulders. Justin reflexively placed his own hands around his friend's waist. "Maybe the price we had to pay was all that temporary glory. Maybe part of the price was one incredible moment on the basketball court we'd never have again. And what we bought with that price--" And Josh rested his forehead against Justin's. "--was us. We paid the price, and now we're together."

Justin looked into Josh's eyes, only an inch or so away, and Josh looked back. Justin could feel his heart go out to his best friend, now and forever his boyfriend, and he knew that Josh's came back to him. Softly, Justin answered, "Maybe that's it."

Tenderly, Josh traced the side of Justin's face with his fingertips, and Justin did the same for Josh. Slowly, deliberately, the two boys leaned in to kiss each other, there on the deserted blacktop of the faraway court, as the sun set behind them.

They had paid their price. They saw that. And as their lips pressed together they could feel their hearts combining in a union that could not be broken.

And they knew the price was worth it.

---

If you enjoyed this story, please write the author and let him know so he'll write more, at [email protected]

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