Alex stepped off the train and felt the brisk Boston air immediately nip at his cheeks. His breath puffed out in faint clouds as he slung his backpack over his shoulder and looked up at the brick buildings lining the street. His heart was hammering—not from the walk, but from excitement. It had been almost two years since he’d seen his cousin, and though they talked on the, nothing compared to the real thing. He smoothed down his plaid shirt, kicked the curb lightly with his white sneakers, and muttered to himself, “Alright, Alex. Don’t act like a kid about it.” But he was buzzing inside anyway.
When the apartment door finally opened, Gage filled the frame, dark brown eyes warming immediately. “Alex!” His voice carried both surprise and joy. He pulled him in instantly for a hug.
Alex laughed into his shoulder. “Man, I thought you forgot what I looked like.”
“Hard to forget someone with hair like a mop,” Gage teased, reaching out to ruffle Alex’s shaggy brown hair.
“Hey, I work hard on this look,” Alex shot back with a grin. “You’ve… uh, grown a mustache? Didn’t see that coming.”
Gage smirked and tugged at it. “I’m nearly thirty, kid. Comes with the territory. Now come in before you freeze.”
Inside, Alex immediately started unlacing his sneakers, slipping them off to reveal his bright white socks. He flexed his toes on the wooden floor and sighed. “Boston floors feel the same as Minneapolis floors. Who knew?”
Gage snorted as he peeled off his Nikes, leaving his striped socks on display. “You’re a weirdo. Sit down before you start narrating my carpet too.”
They both sank onto the couch, setting their socked feet on the coffee table. Gage slid a mug of coffee into Alex’s hands.
Alex inhaled the steam with mock drama. “Ahh, the smell of adulthood. I’m twenty-one now, so I guess I’m qualified.”
“You’re barely qualified to pay your own bills,” Gage teased, sipping his own. “But hey, I’ll let you pretend. Tell me everything—what’s Minneapolis without me?”
“It’s duller, obviously,” Alex said, leaning back. “No one to roast me every day. Mom still asks about you like you’ve vanished into another dimension. And the guys miss our pickup games.”
Gage smiled faintly. “Yeah, I miss those. Boston’s got its charm, though. I’ll show you around—after you finish that coffee. We’ve got a whole city to conquer.”
⸻
A little later, they were lacing up their sneakers again by the door. Alex grinned at Gage’s serious pace. “You always tie your shoes like you’re preparing for battle.”
“Walking in Boston is battle,” Gage replied. “You’ll see.”
As they stepped out, Alex shoved his hands into his jean pockets, eyes darting around. “Man, this is wild. It’s like… every corner looks like a movie.”
“That’s because half of history happened here,” Gage said, gesturing at the rows of old brick buildings. “That’s the charm. You’re standing in a city older than half the states.”
Alex kicked a red leaf on the sidewalk and laughed. “You sound like a tour guide.”
“You’ll thank me when you actually learn something,” Gage said with a smirk. “C’mon, we’ll walk the Common first, then maybe swing by Faneuil Hall. You still eat like a bottomless pit?”
“Always,” Alex said, tugging his plaid shirt tighter against the wind. “You’re buying, though. Old-man tax.”
Gage groaned but smiled. “Alright, kid. Let’s go make Boston regret inviting you.”
That afternoon became a blur of laughter, walking, and little moments that would stay with them for years. They strolled through Boston Common, tossing leaves at each other like kids before posing in front of the duck pond, Gage insisting on snapping “tourist shots” of Alex with his shaggy hair falling in his eyes and his plaid shirt catching the wind. Alex got his revenge by taking pictures of Gage mid-sip of coffee, catching his cousin’s mustached smirk in a candid that made him laugh until his stomach hurt. They wandered along the Freedom Trail, paused to listen to a street performer on a corner, and bought roasted chestnuts from a vendor, cracking the shells as they walked. At Quincy Market, Alex insisted on trying clam chowder for the first time, pretending to gag before admitting he actually liked it, while Gage documented the moment on his phone. By the time the sun started dipping low, the two had countless photos of each other, half serious and half ridiculous, their sneakers scuffed from miles of walking but their energy still buzzing with the joy of simply being together again.
⸻
The apartment was warm, the scent of autumn leaves and crisp air lingering faintly in the room. Alex flopped onto the couch with a groan, his plaid shirt slightly rumpled from a day of wandering Boston’s streets. Gage leaned back in the armchair across from him, his dark eyes flickering with amusement as he watched his younger cousin stretch out.
"Man, my feet are killing me," Alex muttered, wiggling his white-sneakered feet slightly. The soles pressed into the edge of the couch, the pristine white of his crew socks peeking out just above the shoes.
Gage smirked, his mustache twitching as he spoke. "Should’ve worn better shoes, kid. Those look like they’re straight out of middle school."
"Hey," Alex protested, but there was a laugh in his voice. "These are vintage. They’re cool."
"If you say so," Gage replied, his tone teasing. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "You want me to rub them for you? Might help with the ache."
Alex hesitated for a moment, his boyish face flushing slightly. He’d never really thought about it before, but there was something about Gage’s offer that made his stomach tighten. "Uh… sure. If you don’t mind," he said, trying to sound casual.
"I wouldn’t have offered if I minded," Gage said smoothly. He got up and moved to sit at the end of the couch, gently lifting Alex’s legs and placing them in his lap. Alex’s sneakers were still on, the laces slightly loosened from walking all day.
Gage’s fingers moved with precision as he untied the laces of Alex’s left sneaker. The soft shush of the laces sliding freefilled the quiet room. He tugged the shoe off slowly, revealing the crisp white sock beneath. The fabric looked pristine, but as Gage leaned in closer, he caught a faint whiff of sweat and warmth—a scent that was unmistakably Alex. It wasn’t overpowering, just enough to make Gage’s pulse quicken.
"Your socks are surprisingly clean," Gage commented, his voice low as he set the first shoe down on the floor.
"Yeah, well, I don’t want my feet stinking up your place," Alex replied, his voice slightly breathless.
Gage chuckled softly and moved to the other shoe. This time, he took even longer, his fingers brushing against the curve of Alex’s ankle as he worked the laces free. The sound of the fabric sliding over skinwas barely audible, but it felt impossibly loud in the charged silence between them. When the second shoe finally came off, Gage held it for a moment, his thumb tracing the outline of Alex’s toes through the sock.
"There," Gage said, setting the shoe down beside its mate. He ran his hands over Alex’s socked feet, feeling the warmth radiating through the fabric. The socks were soft, stretched slightly from being worn all day, but still snug against the shape of Alex’s feet. Gage’s fingers curled around one foot, applying gentle pressure to the arch.
"Oh—" Alex gasped, his body tensing for a moment before relaxing into the touch. "That feels… really good."
Gage smiled, his fingers kneading deeper into the sole. He could feel every curve, every ridge of Alex’s foot through the thin fabric. The scent of sweat and warmth grew stronger as he worked, filling his senses and making his head swim. His own breathing deepened, and he could feel the growing tightness in his jeans as he continued to massage.
Alex shifted slightly, his face flushed as he tried to process what was happening. There was something about the way Gage’s hands moved—something almost intimate—that made his stomach twist in a way he couldn’t ignore. His own body was reacting, a slow heat building between his legs as Gage’s fingers pressed into his arches.
"You’ve got nice feet," Gage murmured, his voice husky as he switched to the other foot. His thumb circled the ball of Alex’s foot, applying just enough pressure to make Alex’s breath catch. "Strong, but not too rough. Perfect for this kind of thing."
"Uh… thanks?" Alex managed to say, his voice wavering slightly. He could feel the warmth spreading through him, pooling in places he didn’t want to think about right now. But it was impossible to ignore—not when Gage was touching him like this.
Gage’s hands slowed, his fingers tracing the outline of Alex’s toes through the sock. He could feel the tension in the room, thick and palpable, and he knew Alex could feel it too. His own desire was unmistakable now, his jeans growing uncomfortably tight as he continued to massage.
"You okay?" Gage asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Yeah," Alex breathed, his heart pounding in his chest. "I’m… I’m good."
Gage nodded, his eyes meeting Alex’s for a moment before he returned to the task at hand. His fingers moved lower, pressing into the heel of Alex’s foot with firm, steady strokes. The rhythm was hypnotic, each movement sending little shocks of pleasure through Alex’s body. He bit his lip, trying to stifle the moan that threatened to escape.
Gage’s hands paused again, this time lingering near the top of Alex’s foot. His hand traced the arch of Alex’s socked foot. The contact was electric, sending a jolt through both of them.
"Gage…" Alex murmured, his voice trembling.
"Yeah?" Gage replied, his hand stilling. He looked up at Alex, his dark eyes searching for confirmation.
Alex hesitated for a moment before nodding ever so slightly. "Just… keep going."
Gage shifted on the couch, his movements slow and deliberate. He laid back, his head resting near Alex’s feet, his own sneakers now inches away from Alex’s face. The moment felt heavy, charged with something neither of them could fully articulate. Gage’s hands continued their work, kneading the arches of Alex’s socked feet with a firm yet tender touch. His fingers pressed into the fabric, the soft material dampened slightly from the warmth of Alex’s skin.
"You want to rub mine?" Gage asked, his voice low, almost a whisper. His eyes locked onto Alex’s, searching for confirmation.
Alex swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest. "Yes," he moaned, his voice trembling with anticipation. He shifted awkwardly, sitting up slightly so he could reach Gage’s feet. His hands hesitated for a moment before he leaned forward, grabbing the laces of Gage’s sneakers. The smell hit him immediately—a mix of leather, sweat, and something uniquely Gage. It was intoxicating.
His fingers fumbled with the laces, pulling them loose one at a time. The air in the room seemed to thicken as he tugged at the shoes, finally prying them off. Gage’s sneakers were worn, the soles slightly scuffed, but the scent rolling off them was overwhelming—musky, earthy, and undeniably masculine. Alex paused, holding one shoe in his hand, breathing in deeply. The odor clung to him in the best way possible, setting his nerves on fire.
He set the shoes aside and turned his attention to Gage’s socks. The blue and gray striped fabric was snug against his feet, the material slightly damp from a day of walking. Alex’s fingers traced the outline of Gage’s foot through the sock, feeling the curve of his arch, the hardness of his heel. He hesitated only for a second before starting to massage, his hands working in rhythm with Gage’s.
The older man let out a soft groan, his eyes fluttering shut. "Damn, that feels good," he murmured, his voice thick with pleasure. His hands continued their work on Alex’s feet, his fingers pressing deeper, more insistently. The sound of his breath hitching filled the room, sharp and needy.
Alex’s hands moved with purpose now, kneading the soles of Gage’s feet through the socks. The fabric was warm beneath his fingers, the friction creating a heady sensation that made his stomach tighten. He could feel the texture of Gage’s skin through the material, the slight dampness adding an extra layer of intimacy. His breathing quickened as he worked, his own arousal building with every stroke.
"I’ve wanted to taste these all day," Gage suddenly said, his voice raw and hungry. Before Alex could respond, Gage leaned forward, burying his face in Alex’s socked feet. His tongue pressed against the fabric, wet and insistent, tracing the arch of Alex’s foot. The sensation was electric, sending jolts of pleasure through Alex’s body.
"Gage—" Alex gasped, his voice breaking as Gage’s tongue worked its magic. The older man didn’t stop, his mouth moving hungrily over the fabric, his hands still gripping Alex’s ankles. The smell of Alex’s feet—a mix of cotton and sweat—was intoxicating, and Gade inhaled deeply, his arousal spiking.
Alex couldn’t help himself any longer. He leaned down, mimicking Gage’s actions, pressing his face into the older man’s socked feet. The scent was overpowering—salt and musk and something distinctly Gage. His tongue darted out, tasting the fabric, feeling the warmth of Gage’s skin beneath. The flavor was unlike anything he’d ever experienced—earthy and rich and so fucking good.
They moved in unison now, their mouths working feverishly over each other’s feet, their hands gripping ankles and calves for support. The room was filled with the sound of their heavy breathing, the wet shlucks of their tongues against fabric, the occasional muffled moan. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and desire, and neither of them could think straight anymore.
Gage pulled back for a moment, panting heavily. "You taste amazing," he said, his voice rough and desperate. His eyes were dark with need as he looked up at Alex.
Alex didn’t respond—he couldn’t. Instead, he dove back in, his tongue pressing harder against Gage’s socked foot, his teeth grazing the fabric teasingly. The older man let out a low growl, his hips shifting restlessly on the couch.
"Fuck," Gage breathed, his hands tightening around Alex’s feet. "Don’t stop."
Gage’s hands tightened around Alex’s socked feet, pulling them closer to his face. His breath hitched as he buried his nose into the soft fabric of Alex’s crisp white crew socks, inhaling deeply. The scent was intoxicating—a mix of sweat, leather, and something uniquely Alex. Gage groaned low in his throat, his mouth watering. “God, you smell fucking incredible,” he muttered, his voice thick with desire.
Alex shivered at the sound of Gage’s words, his own breathing growing ragged as he felt Gage’s nose press against the arch of his foot. “Gage…” he whispered, his voice trembling. He couldn’t believe how good it felt, how wrong and yet so unbearably right. His cousin’s hands were firm yet gentle, guiding his foot closer until the fabric brushed against Gage’s lips.
With a hunger that surprised even himself, Gage opened his mouth and took one of Alex’s socked toes between his lips. The fabric was slightly damp from Alex’s sweat, and the taste exploded on Gage’s tongue—salty, musky, and utterly addictive. He sucked gently at first, teasing the toe with his tongue, feeling the shape of it through the sock. A low, guttural moan escaped him, vibrating against Alex’s foot.
“Oh fuck,” Alex gasped, his back arching off the couch. The sensation was overwhelming—Gage’s warm, wet mouth enveloping his socked toe, the gentle suction sending electric jolts up his leg. His dick throbbed painfully in his jeans, and he reached down to adjust himself, trying to relieve some of the pressure. “Gage… that feels so fucking good…”
Gage didn’t respond—he was too lost in the moment. He moved to the next toe, sucking it into his mouth with the same fervor, his tongue massaging the fabric. The sound of his wet, desperate slurps filled the room, each one making Alex’s heart race faster. Gage’s hands roamed lower, gripping Alex’s ankle firmly as if to anchor himself. He couldn’t get enough—the taste, the feel, the way Alex’s body responded to him. It was all-consuming.
Alex’s head fell back against the armrest, his eyes fluttering shut as he tried to process the pleasure coursing through him. He could feel Gage’s tongue working against his toes, the wetness soaking through the fabric of his sock. It was intimate in a way he hadn’t expected, and it made his chest tighten with conflicted emotions. He’s your cousin, a small voice in his head whispered, but Alex silenced it with a muffled groan. Right now, all he cared about was how good it felt.
“Fuck, your feet are perfect,” Gage murmured between sucks, his voice husky and raw. He pulled back slightly to admire Alex’s socked foot, the fabric now clinging to his toes in a way that drove Gage wild. “You have no idea what you do to me, Alex.”
Alex’s breath caught in his throat at Gage’s words. He felt exposed, vulnerable, and yet so incredibly turned on. “Gage…” he started, but he didn’t know what to say. Instead, he leaned forward slightly, reaching for Gage’s socked foot with trembling hands. If this was happening—if they were crossing this line—then he wanted to take it all in.
Alex was finally leaning down and pressing his face into the arch of Gage’s socked foot. Alex’s heart pounded as he stuck out his tongue and dragged it along the length of Gage’s arch, savoring the flavor that burst on his taste buds. It was different from his own—stronger, more robust—and it made his head spin.
“That’s it,” Gage encouraged, his voice low and gravelly. He resumed sucking on Alex’s toes, matching the rhythm of Alex’s tongue against his own foot. The sounds they made together were obscene—wet, sloppy, and filled with raw need. Gage could feel himself getting harder by the second, his jeans tightening uncomfortably around his cock. But he didn’t care. All that mattered was this moment, this connection.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Alex murmured between licks, his voice barely above a whisper. He knew he should feel guilty, ashamed even, but all he could focus on was the way Gage’s sock tasted against his tongue, the way their feet fit so perfectly together.
“Why not?” Gage asked, pulling back just long enough to meet Alex’s gaze. His eyes were dark with lust, his lips shiny with saliva from sucking on Alex’s socked toes. “We’re cousins, yeah, but… doesn’t this feel right? Doesn’t it feel like we were meant to do this?”
Alex stared at him, his heart racing. He wanted to argue, to remind Gage of all the reasons this was wrong. But he couldn’t. Because deep down, he knew Gage was right. This did feel right. More than anything else ever had.
Without another word, Alex leaned back down and pressed his face into Gage’s socked foot again, licking and sucking with renewed intensity. Gage let out a low groan of approval and mirrored the action on Alex’s foot. Their movements became more frantic, more desperate, as if they were both trying to communicate something they couldn’t put into words.
The room was filled with the sound of their shared pleasure—the wet sounds of their mouths working over fabric, their heavy breathing, the occasional muffled moan or gasp. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and arousal, and neither of them could think straight anymore.
“I’m obsessed with your feet,” Gage admitted suddenly, his voice rough and unsteady. “I can’t stop thinking about them. About you.”
Alex paused for a moment, lifting his head to look at Gage. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath. “Me too,” he confessed quietly. “With yours. With… you.”
Their eyes locked, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. Then Gage reached out and grabbed Alex’s ankle again, pulling him closer. “Don’t stop,” he urged, his voice trembling with need.
Alex nodded silently and lowered his face back to Gage’s socked foot, his tongue sliding along the fabric with a renewed sense of purpose. Gage did the same, sucking on Alex’s toes with a desperation that bordered on madness.
They were lost in each other now—two cousins crossing a line they could never uncross. And neither of them wanted to stop
