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Kozzy stretched out on the couch, his feet resting on Sandy’s thigh. “Please tell me you’re going to tape X-Files,” he said, rolling his shoulders. “I think I might fall asleep during it. Butternut Squash had a very fun day today throwing three shoes, and then rolling in the mud.” He yawned. “Well, you knew about the mud. I came home covered in most of it. And I will clean the shower. Second-best shower I ever had.”

Sandy patted the top of one of Kozzy’s feet. “Would it be arrogant of me to assume that I was there for the best one?”

Kozzy closed his eyes and smiled slowly. “You know it wouldn’t.”

“Hmm.” Sandy smiled back at Kozzy. “Anyway, you can fall asleep if you want to. I always tape it for Tasha because she has band practice.”

“That’s right, I think I remember you saying that,” Kozzy murmured. The strains of the opening theme soared into the living room, and Kozzy turned his head and opened his eyes just enough to provide the pretense that he was watching.

By the first commercial break he was blinking very slowly, breathing deeply. It must have been a harder day than he’d explained so far, Sandy thought. He could probably do with a massage. But Sandy wasn’t going to get up or make Kozzy move for that, not now, not when he didn’t have to. He smiled, turned his upper body so that he could hold Kozzy’s feet comfortably in his hands, and began massaging one. He didn’t often spend much time on foot massages at the spa, but he remembered the technique well enough, even if all of the reflexology charts he had ever looked at were gone from his mind. It was really just a matter of respecting the body as it was, undoing tension without tickling, pressing hard enough to ease knots but not hard enough to hurt the places where those knots had formed…

Sandy shook his head a little as he worked his way along Kozzy’s metatarsals to his toes. Kozzy’s feet were so cold, and this so soon after taking a hot shower. Hopefully this massage would improve the blood flow, at least a little.

Sandy’s focus drew away from the television entirely as he went on, kneading the familiar shape of Kozzy’s foot—the smooth arch, the narrow heel, the long toes, all the expected calluses. Kozzy was so still for this, he’d probably endure a pedicure nicely. Sandy decided to suggest it later. After all, while Kozzy’s feet were familiar, as all of Kozzy was to him, his feet seemed just slightly less so than the rest. And Sandy would hate to think he had been neglecting any bit of Kozzy.

After the last effleurage of Kozzy’s now-warm foot, Sandy looked up at the rest of him before starting on the second one. And he found that while perhaps he had managed to bring relaxation to one small part of Kozzy, his actions had backfired entirely for the rest. Kozzy lay still and tense as Sandy held his second foot loosely in his hands, breathing only through his nose and looking at the TV but clearly not paying attention to it. Sandy frowned worriedly for a moment. Kozzy was usually able to tell him when he accidentally did something upsetting; was this time one of the exceptions?

And then he saw what the dim light of the living room had caused him to overlook just now: within his sweatpants, Kozzy had a significant hard-on. Was this simple embarrassment, then? “Kozzy,” he began.

“I didn’t know when you started,” Kozzy said, his voice tight. “I never thought—it would never have occurred to me—I know this is weird, gross, a punchline—”

“Easy now,” Sandy said soothingly. “Have I ever been grossed out before when I’ve done something and it’s turned you on? No.” He watched Kozzy visibly relax and take a deeper breath before turning to look at Sandy.

“You tease me about the thing I have for your undershirts.”

Sandy chuckled a little and started effleurage on Kozzy’s second foot. “That’s because it’s such an easy, simple thing for me to do. I wouldn’t tease you about this.” He pressed his thumbs just beneath the mounds of Kozzy’s toes, earning himself a soft little moan. “This takes skill, patience, and extensive study,” he said, continuing with the massage. “I studied for years to be able to do this right.” Never mind how much he’d forgotten. He’d start a refresher course tomorrow, now that he’d discovered this about Kozzy.

“Oh, god,” Kozzy said quietly. “You’re really going to go on?”

“I can’t leave you unbalanced,” Sandy said with a grin. “What’s worrying you, anyway?”

“I—it’s just—well, it’s not normal, is it? It’s not…just like everyone else, except that we’re both men. If I have this—this fetish, then clearly the way my brain processes sexual desire isn’t normal and healthy and…and then…”

Sandy stopped moving his hands. “Kozzy,” he said softly. “You’re using the words ‘normal’ and ‘healthy’ to try to hurt yourself. I wish you wouldn’t. You don’t deserve to be hurt. And I don’t want to use any words like ‘normal,’ but look at it like this: you’re having a strong sexual reaction to your lover giving you a lot of detailed attention to a sensitive part of your body.” He dragged his fingers along Kozzy’s arch. “There are a lot of nerve endings down here, love. I’m glad you like what I’m doing with them, even if I wasn’t expecting your exact response.”

Kozzy relaxed again. “Like is one way of putting it. But—ah—of course you aren’t surprised,” he said breathily as Sandy resumed his more intense touches. “You already know you can rev me up by playing with my hands.”

“Lot of nerve endings there, too,” Sandy said. Wait, did he remember some of those reflexology charts after all? He acted based on what he thought he could remember and Kozzy whimpered and wiggled his hips. Sandy grinned, warmth starting to coil in his belly as well. He did so love to see Kozzy turned on.

“This—this is different, though,” Kozzy said. A dark flush had now crept over his cheeks. “Strong sexual response, you said? Sandy—oh god that’s got to be illegal—Sandy, if you keep doing what you’re doing I feel like—I feel like I might come in my pants like a fucking teenager.”

“Surely that’s an exaggeration,” Sandy said gently. He continued working at Kozzy’s foot, wanting to make sure that he did everything properly, despite the distraction of Kozzy’s reaction and despite what he was about to suggest. He rolled his knuckles against Kozzy’s arch, making him draw breath sharply. “But if you’re getting that desperate…I think you should pull your pants down and give yourself a hand.” He smiled teasingly. “I’d do it myself, if my arms were longer—well, and if my hands weren’t already occupied.”

“So much for watching TV,” Kozzy said, though his hands had already strayed to his waistband.

“That’s what the tape’s for,” Sandy said. “Of course, seeing you get yourself off is probably going to get me pretty hot, too…”

Kozzy gave a single, breathy laugh and carefully pushed his pants down just enough to free his straining cock. “What would you like, Sandy?”

Sandy watched with interest as his ministrations to the sole of Kozzy's foot drew a bead of precome from his cock. Even with the focus on what he was doing, that was a sight to make his own pants start to feel mighty uncomfortable. “Well, you know, you just got to relax for this,” he said. “So, I think I’d really like a chance to relax, myself, while you give me your very best head.”

“Oh, I can definitely do that,” Kozzy said, unconsciously licking his lips.

“Good.” Sandy sighed the word. “I’m so glad I know this about you now,” he said, as Kozzy began to stroke himself. He made his movements more gentle, aiming to bring the massage to a close as soon as Kozzy orgasmed. “But I might play with your feet whenever I’m horny, now, though.”

Kozzy grunted a little and laughed. “Oh, no,” he said sarcastically. “As if you didn’t already know thousands of ways to get me into bed.”

Sandy grinned again. “You know I could say the same about you.” He squeezed Kozzy’s heel before running his hands over the top and bottom of his foot. “Now, I think you should let yourself come, Kozzy. It’s hard to do this properly when I’m thinking of the promise of your tongue. And that might be just as much a fetish for me as this is for you.”