It was a long flight, followed by long drive to arrive to my cousin's house. Every year, my family and I pay him a visit; a chance to see him and have a small vacation near the beach. I've always liked Rafael and I love when we visit him. I always stay with him in his room and I enjoy every minute of looking at his feet.
Thankfully he's always barefoot.
Every visit, I casually give him foot rubs when we're chilling in his room. It's become a natural thing between us, something I made sure of. During my last visit, on my final day, I took a pair of his socks from his laundry basket. He had just taken them off after we'd been out all day. I wanted to keep his scent with me.
Once we arrived, Rafael opened the door for us. My eyes drifted to his bare feet immediately. I had missed them, and I couldn't wait to get my hands on them again.
We all went in to unpack and shower, to relax after the trip. Rafael helped my family settle while I went to his room to clean up. Afterward, we all went outside to sit and catch up. I settled beside Rafael, and a few minutes later he rested one foot on his knee, with his dirty sole facing me, and casually rubbed it with his hand.
He was giving me glances. Small smirks. Just enough to feel off.
We went to our rooms early that night. I followed Rafael to his room, and he headed straight for the shower while I settled in. When he came out, I shifted to the end of the bed to give him space. He sat down and placed his feet in my lap without a word.
"They missed your massages... Did you?"
Something about the way he said it made me hesitate.
"What? I mean... sure, if you want. I don't mind."
He laughed and laid back. I spent around thirty minutes rubbing his feet, enjoying every second of it. His feet were exactly my type; masculine, a bit wide, perfectly symmetrical toes. Just perfect. When I finished, I climbed down to my mattress on the floor beside his bed.
I woke the next morning to something pressing against my head. I turned to find Rafael's foot resting on me, heel against my cheek.
For a second I didn't move. The sensation of his foot against my cheek was something I dreamed off for years.
"Oh sorry, forgot you were down there, cousin."
"It's fine. Just be careful next time... What time is it?"
"Time to get up and hit the gym. Come on, let's go. Time to get you some muscles."
The gym was a short drive away. Rafael drove, one hand on the wheel, music low. He didn't talk much. Neither did I.
He trained hard. I followed his lead, working through whatever he suggested. By the end we were both sweaty and ready to be home.
The house was quiet when we got back. Everyone else had gone out.
"Go shower. I'll be on my bed."
I showered, changed, and came back to find him stretched out on the bed scrolling his phone, still in his gym clothes. He looked up.
"Come sit. Do your thing."
I laughed and sat at the end of the bed. He swung his feet into my lap.
I worked through the usual routine, arch, heel, each toe. His feet were warm from the workout. I kept my eyes down and focused on what my hands were doing.
A few minutes in, he spoke.
"Rafael, what? that's weird, why would I-"
"By any chance do you know where my socks are? The ones from my laundry basket. Last visit."
"What? No, I... why would I-"
"Every visit you offer the massages before I ask. And since you walked through that door yesterday, you've looked at my feet more than you've looked at my face."
"I just... It's not like..."
He said nothing. Just watched me with that same calm expression and a smirk.
"It's fine. You've been good about it. So go ahead, smell them first. Then show me how much you've missed them."
The smell hit me before I was even close, sweaty and warm. I closed my eyes and took my time. I couldn't have rushed it even if I wanted to.
Then I pressed my lips to his sole. Once. Then again. My tongue followed without a thought, tracing over his soles. I licked every inch, living a dream I never thought could come true. His soles tasted salty; I could taste the couple of hours at the gym, raw and warm.
Then the doorbell rang. Rafael took his feet off my lap and stood up, smoothing his shirt.
I followed him out of the room and down the stairs. Halfway down he stopped, not turning around.
"Next time I put my feet up, don't wait for me to ask."
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