"You want me to do what?"

Ben peered over the top of his tuna sandwich as we sat at the lunch table, nose wrinkled as if the sandwich had suddenly turned.

"Be the second model for Rick's next shoot."

Ben shook his head, mouth twisting with uncertainty. "I dunno about that..." He picked up his juice box, shook it (he always shook it each time before he drank from it), then took a sip. He went back to his tuna sandwich, his eyes sending the silent challenge to convince him.

I leaned forward, pushing my own PB & J aside. "C'mon, Ben, you'd be perfect! He needs two guys this time. And they need to look like best friends. Well, that's us! We couldn't be more convincing, 'cause we wouldn't have to pretend, we could just be ourselves!"

Ben inserted a Frito into his mouth and crunched it slowly. "Best friends, huh?"

"The shoots never take that long. We'd meet at his apartment right after my paper route. We go inside, you meet him, we suit up in costume, we get to goof off for about an hour while he takes pictures of us. Come onnnnn, it'll be fun! Whattaya say?"

"And this Rick guy, he hasn't tried anything funny with you yet, huh?" Ben raised one eyebrow. "He hasn't, like, made a move on you?"

"No", I stressed. "He isn't like that. My folks even met him and gave him the thumbs-up."

"When'd they meet him?"

"Turns out he goes to our church."

"Ah. No wonder he won over your parents. He spends an hour every Sunday gawking at altar boys, there can't be anything fishy about him."

To my disdain, I heard my voice climb to its squeaky-whiny begging pitch, but I couldn't help it. "Bennnn, please, I really want to do this with you. What's an hour out of your life? Pretty please? Best friend? Best costume buddy?"

Ben shook the last crumbs of his corn chips into his mouth and looked cautiously around the lunchroom as he scrunched up the empty bag. His eyes went left, then right, then across the length of the cafeteria. Then he hunched forward, and in a conspiratorial whisper said, "This is the same guy who does all that '50s science fiction, Star Trek, and Dr. Who stuff too, right?" I nodded. "Okay. We meet after your paper route. No sewer worker stuff?"

I shook my head. "No way. Uhn-uh."

He pulled out his pudding cup and popped the lid. "Okay then. Just don't mention it until then. To anybody."

I was practically floating out of my chair. "Mention what?"

Outside Rick's door, I was bouncing on the balls of my feet. Ben stood beside me, nervously looking up and down the apartment hallway. "You're sure you didn't tell anybody about this?", he asked for the twentieth time.

"I'm positive. All except for those guys on the football team."

Ben looked at me with venom. "What?!"

"Kidding! Kidding. No one knows you're here that you didn't tell. Where do your parents think you are, anyway?"

"Mall."

"What's the big deal, anyway?"

"I just don't want half the school to know I ran off with you to play dress up is all."

I rang the bell and Rick opened the door immediately. "Right on time." He smiled at me, then looked at Rick with something in his eyes I couldn't quite define, but it didn't look like him. I had never seen Rick's eyes appear cold before. It was gone in an instant, though, and he said, "This must be the Ben you've been bragging about."

Ben looked at me quickly, saying, "Dude, you were talking about me?"

"Only to say you'd be perfect for this job", Rick answered. "Let's see if our Dickie's right about that. Come on inside."

Rick gave Ben the quick run-through of what the job entails, costume, posing, and so on. Ben just nodded and listened, taking in the variety of movie posters and other decor Rick had added to his place since I first came here. When Rick had finished his shpeal and asked Ben if he had any questions, Ben pointed instead to Rick's poster from Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan.

"That was an awesome movie."

"My favorite of all the Trek flicks", Rick said.

Ben nodded approvingly. "Mine too."

"It's fun to watch it back-to-back with a copy of the episode "Space Seed" from the original series, if you can find it."

For the first time since arriving, Ben's face lit up. "I've done that!"

Rick looked at Ben discerningly. "Have you, now?" Then, offering a meager smile, he said, "Maybe you and Dickie will have to come by another time, we can watch 'em again." He turned to me. "Dickie? Shall we get things rolling?"

I sprang from my chair nearly sparkling with anticipation. "Where'd you put it??", I asked anxiously.

"I laid it out on the bed. Ben's is over the back of the chair. Bring it out when you've changed." I'd slammed the bedroom door before Rick had half-finished his sentence.

I never got into a costume so fast. I was literally jumping into my rubber undersuit and boots, a small amount of nervous anticipatory perspiration providing some added lubrication. I yanked on the rubber sweatshirt with glee, and buckled myself into the bib overalls. I caught a quick glance of myself in the full-length mirror and though I was rock hard (both from being back in my favorite suit as well as anticipating Ben being in his), I was glad nothing showed from the outside.

I opened the door a crack to see Rick sitting back on the couch, tapping his fingers on the couch back. Why wasn't he setting up the lights and the backdrop? I glanced over at Ben, who sat silently in his chair, hands on his thighs, eyeing the walls and the ceiling. I grabbed Ben's costume off the back of the chair and set it near the door. Boy, was he gonna be surprised.

I threw open the door and strode into the living room to stand before Ben. "Ta-da! Well, buddy, what do you think??" Ben just looked up at me with his mouth slightly open. He was speechless. "Isn't this incredible, Benji?" I gave him a quick turn so he could see the whole outfit. The bibs, the boots, they're like Superman boots--oh, and look! The shirt is the same material as the boots! See, feel it!" I rubbed the sleeve between two fingers right up close to Ben.

"Yeah, I can see that..."

"It's all one piece underneath, man. It feels so good to have on, too!" I pulled the sides of the bibs apart to better show the undersuit. "You have so got to try this out, man! Well, you will! You are!" I dashed back to the bedroom and snatched up the other suit. I ran back to Benji, who was already standing up now. I held it up before him. "See? Bam! We're twins, man! This is gonna be so monster! WOO!" I slapped the suit against Benji's chest, which his arms caught on reflex.

I pushed more than walked him to the bedroom door to hurry him along into his costume. He turned around and looked at me with a puzzled expression. Clearly, he was overwhelmed by this as much as I was. He peered over my shoulder to Rick on the couch, apparently not knowing that I could give him whatever directions he needed now.

"Dude, I know this is gonna sound weird, but wear the suit without any underwear on." Ben looked at me aghast. "TrUSt me", I said, as I gave him one final shove and closed the door.

I strutted over to the chair Benji had occupied and flopped down across from Rick. Rick looked at me solemnly. He still seemed uncertain about my choice of partners, but he'd understand when he saw Benj suited up. "This is gonna be the best shoot ever", I beamed. "Rick, I promise you I will never forget this." Rick looked away, apparently a bit uncomfortable by my statement of gratitude.

My eyes were glued to that door. My heart was in my chest as I waited for my best friend in the whole world to come out dressed in the exact same outfit that I had on. I swallowed hard in anticipation. What was taking him so long?

Finally, after an eternity, the door to Rick's bedroom slowly opened. Gingerly, hesitantly, Ben stepped out into the living room. He was beautiful. He still had his glasses off after pulling on the snug sweatshirt and he looked so handsome. The suit fit him perfectly. The rubber sweatshirt gleamed in the light as did his matching red boots. The denim overalls fit over the top of his rubber sweatshirt so well. The denim hung loose in all the right places and was tapered at the waist to show how trim he was. His pant legs were cuffed kind of low, making it look like the boots weren't as tall as they really were, but a quick adjustment would fix that so we'd both match.

He looked down at himself, obviously taking in this extraordinary ensemble he'd been allowed to wear. He was dressed just like me. In denim, in bright red rubber. God, he was so...damned...cute! My best friend, now attired so all the world could see it. I already envisioned where the photos of us together like this would go. In my bedroom, in my wallet, in my locker.

I wanted to hug him right then and there. I wanted to race over and throw my arms around him and tell him how much he meant to me, how much I loved him as my friend. I wanted us to stay dressed like this forever. Best friends to the end, campadres, side-by-side, arm-in-arm for all time.

He looked at me. His eyes so cool and gray, his round, sweet smooth face so--

"Dickie, I can't do this."

I felt as if I had been struck across the face. He couldn't have just said what I thought he said. "Wh-what?"

Ben put his glasses back on. "Dickie, I'm sorry, man, I just can't. This is too much. I can't handle it."

"What do you mean you can't handle it?? You look great! Look at yourself, at me! At us! We're dressed like buddies, like partners, like--!"

"Like fags", Ben cut in. I stood there open-mouthed, stunned. He stuck his hands in his pockets and sighed. "Dickie, I feel like a big fag in this getup. I went along with it to humor you at first, but...Jesus, man." He shook his head.

I made a vague whimpering sound and gestured meaninglessly with one hand.

"Maybe you don't get it. Maybe you can't see what I'm seeing here, man, but we look like a couple of queers dressed up like little kids. There's no way in hell I'm letting this guy take pictures of me like this, much less with you and me together. Forget it."

Rick sat quietly in the corner and said nothing.

"B-but Benji, you can't be serious! We look awesome like this. You gotta go though with this, you promised--!"

"I promised to try it out, and I did. It sucks and I'm not doing this. You went too far with this one, man. Way too far." Ben walked around in a tight circle. "Christ, how can you even move in this thing? I got rubber climbing up my ass and tearing shit out of the hair on my legs and arms. It feels like a fucking straightjacket. Time's up. I'm getting out of this thing."

He turned to go back into the bedroom to change, and I lunged forward and grabbed his arm. I was on the verge of tears. "Benji, no! You can't! I really, really wanted this! You and me, together like this, like--"

"A couple of queer-ass pansy fairy boys.", he cut me off. "Dickie, you mean well and all, I really want to believe that, but it was all I could do to even walk out here in this thing. Once I saw myself in the bedroom mirror, I almost ripped it off right there. But I figured I'd let you see me in it. I owed you that much."

Yes, he owed me enough to show me the personification of my dream and then rip it away. Thanks ever so much. Ben kept going into the bedroom, speaking to me without turning around. "I know you've got the whole superhero thing going on, and you love to play dress-up in bright colors and stuff, but you obviously don't get what anyone else would think if they saw us like this. I'm not risking that." He was already unsnapping his bib straps and peeling off the overalls.

I just stood there, suddenly feeling like something wrong and perverse in my beautiful red and blue suit. My lower lip began to quiver. Ben kicked off the denim bibs and was left with his red rubber bodysuit. I could see outlined in the snug rubber that my buddy has a nice package, too. I cursed myself for noticing. For even looking.

Ben stood there looking at me in his glorious red rubber suit, and took off his glasses. "Dickie, don't watch me change." He walked towards me, and I backed away. Without checking to see if I was past the jam, he slammed the door in my face.

But I had seen him change. I had just seen my best friend in the whole world change into a cruel, judgmental and condemning bastard. I tried not to see it, but I couldn't help it.

I stumbled across the room and sat down on the couch next to Rick. Gently, he patted me on the back. I let him, staring down at my bright red clownish boots. God, was I really so fucking blind that I couldn't see how stupid I looked? Tall red rubber boots, crisp denim overalls, what was I thinking? Was there something wrong with me? To want to stand side by side with my best friend in the world and be photographed in identical costume outfits? Maybe Ben was right. Maybe I was screwed up somehow.

Rick sat beside me and said nothing. He didn't even assure me that everything would be alright. After who knows how long of sitting in silence, questioning my sanity and feeling miserable, Ben came out of the bedroom dressed in his street clothes.

He avoided my tearful eyes and looked at Rick. "I didn't know where you wanted the costume, so I just left it on the bed." Rick said nothing. Ben turned to leave, heading for the door.

I jumped off the couch, ran to stop him. "Benji, wait! Don't go like this! We have to talk about this! Please!" As I leapt across the room, I could feel the magnificent rubber trousers and boots hug my legs and feet. How could he not see how wonderful they felt? All I wanted was to share it with him That's all.

"There's nothing to talk about, Dickie. You have no idea what's wrong with you and everyone else can tell. It's just gotten too damn embarrassing is all. So do what you want and play with all your costumes and shit, just leave me out of it." I started to say something else, maybe get him to go along with a less flamboyant costume, maybe, but as Ben crossed the threshold he held out a palm and pressed it against my chest.

"Don't follow me out. I can't be seen with you dressed like that." My mouth moved, but no sound came out. Ben looked me in the eye and said evenly, "I'll see you around" in a tone that indicated that we would never spend time together again If he did see me around, it would be a signal to avoid me. He backed out into the hallway and kept his hand on the doorknob, pulling the door closed behind him to assure that I wouldn't follow.

"And don't call me 'Benji', for Christ sakes. Jesus."

The door closed tight and that was that. He was gone. The tears began to flow and I felt utterly humiliated. Mere moments ago I felt high as kite just to wear this outfit and now I was totally ashamed of it. My shoulders sagged and my body jerked with the sobs. After the initial crying gasps, I reached up with fumbling fingers and started undoing the clasps on my overalls bibs.

For the first time in several minutes, Rick spoke. "Dickie, what are you doing?"

I spat out my answer through the blubbering. "What does it look like I'm doing?? I have to get this thing off of me! I can't wear it anymore!"

Rick actually sounded hurt. "Why? You look great, kid."

The denim strap seemed to stick to the shiny rubber over my shoulder as I struggled to rip it off. My face flushed as I fought with the other strap, whose buckle was being uncooperative. "Come ON! Get the hell OFF of me, dammitt! GodDAMN, why won't you come off?!!"

Rick was suddenly behind me, his strong hands resting on my shoulders. "Dickie. It's gonna be okay, I promise. Stop it. Stop doing this to yourself."

"You HEARD what he said!", I pulled away from Rick's hold, but he kept his hands firmly in place. "I look like a fag! I look like a big, stupid, fag! Oh God, he said everybody knows! Everybody thinks I'm a lousy queer!" I was suddenly flooded with a fear unlike anything I'd ever experienced before. "Oh, Jesus! I'm all dressed up in a stupid costume and everyone thinks I'm a fag! I'm-I'm-I'm wearing a rubber suit! Oh, my GOD I'm wearing a red rubber FAG suit, and I have to get it off!!"

Rick turned me around and held me to his chest. "Hey, hey, hey, hey. Shh, shh, shh. It's gonna be okay, Dickie. I swear to you it's gonna be okay." I let go of everything and wailed into his strong chest. I felt so weak, so worthless. I was less than nothing. For perhaps a quarter of an hour I bawled and blathered incoherent nonsense as my new mentor held me tight, gently stroking the back of my head.

After my cries subsided into muffled sobs, Rick led me back over to the couch and set me down. The tears continued to flow, and he gently rested my head on his shoulder and spoke to me tenderly.

"Dickie, you love your suit, don't you? Isn't it your favorite costume?"

I rubbed my eyes with my knuckles. "It can't be anymore. It shouldn't be."

"That's not what I asked you, buddy. Do you like your suit?"

"Yes. I do." I felt the weight anew upon my chest and began to sob again. I did love the suit, I truly did. Benji said I looked like a fag in it. Therefore I'm a fag.

Rick held my head. "Hey, now stop it! You have a suit that makes you happy and you love to wear it. So what? You obviously wanted to share that same joy with your friend. Is that so bad?"

"H-he thinks so."

Rick put his arm around me and gently rubbed my shoulder. We sat that way in silence for a moment while I sniffled. As I composed myself, Rick said, "Can you be honest with me, buddy?" I looked up at him questioningly. His eyes were firm and resolute. "Really honest, Dickie. Can you?" I nodded.

Rick turned in his seat to face me, resting his hand upon my shoulder. "This Ben. Are you in love with him?"

I started to jerk away. "N-no! It's not like that. H-he's my best friend. We-we're not--"

Rick held on to my shoulder, resting his other hand upon my knee. His face was passive, but his eyes were penetrating. He said nothing, but his expression bore into me, emphasizing what he'd said before. Be honest.

I lowered my eyes, unable to meet his. I felt icy tendrils crawl from my stomach up my chest, and my legs trembled slightly. I took a deep breath, then another. He sat still, waiting for my reply. Then, closing my eyes, I finally answered, "I think so, yeah." The tears came again, my face began to crumple, and I reiterated, "I am in love with him."

I braced myself for the grown-up's talk about sexual confusion, about how I couldn't possibly know what I feel at this young age, about hormonal overload, etc, etc. Rick stunned me, however, with four words.

"He doesn't deserve you."

I met Rick's eyes, unsure I had heard him correctly. "What?"

He took my hands in his. "Dickie, you are such a wonderful kid. You're happy, you're upbeat, you love so big and so fully. I see you in that bright red and blue outfit and I know, I just know, that's the real you. So full of life and color." And then his expression grew harder. "But then I see you with Ben, and I see how his personal darkness spills over onto you, how it makes you act differently than you are, how it always makes you sad. He does not deserve a friend like you, Dickie, much less a boyfriend as loving as you."

I was barely processing what he'd said. Where was the "you can't know you're queer when you're so young" speech? Rick leaned forward and touched his forehead to mine. "Promise me something", he said.

"A-anything", I stammered.

"Promise me you'll stay the same wonderful, giving person you are now, Dickie. Keep doing what makes you happy without hesitating to share it with others. And whatever you do, don't let Ben, or anyone like him, change who you are. Promise me that."

I could feel my eyes begin to tear, but these were not tears of sorrow. "I promise", I whispered.

He kissed me on the forehead. The he released my hands and sat back on the couch, just looking at me. It was so much to take in, this support, this affection. I had never been so utterly accepted for who I was, no judgments, no accusations.

I sat there silently, looking down at my wonderful, glorious boots. I wriggled my toes inside, feeling the rubber, now moist but still cool. I rubbed my palms over my thighs, collecting my thoughts, feeling the rubber sleeves against my bare arms underneath.

"Rick?"

"Yeah."

"I really am in love with Benji. I love him so much it hurts."

"Let him go, Dickie. Please, for me."

I wiped away more tears, wondering absently when I'd ever run dry. "But it hurts so bad."

"It'll pass. I promise."

I turned to look at my mentor. In his eyes was experience I had yet to possess, and I trusted him. I looked back down at my boots. "So Benj was right, then. I am a fag."

Rick made an exasperated noise. "No, you're not."

I knew it. My new mentor would not let me down. I had an out. I could still be normal.

"But it does sound like you're gay."

I turned quickly to look at him again. "What??"

"You're not a fag, Dickie. You're not some flamboyant, overeffeminate swishy boy who prances around on tippy-toes and wears women's negligee. You're a nice, normal, cheerful and intelligent young man who just happens to prefer boys to girls. That's all."

"You say it like it's okay or something."

"Maybe it is."

"But I'm a big fag!"

"We've already established that you're not a fag. And you're not that big. You're what, 5'9"?"

"5'10" ", I stressed. "10 and a half with the boots." I smiled, and very nearly laughed. Rick laughed with me.

He stood up, gesturing for me to do so as well. "Come here." I stood up, and he hugged me with genuine devotion, rubbing my back with one palm. He rested his head against mine. I could actually feel his heartbeat. After our embrace, he looked at me with concern tinged with hope and asked, "You feel any better? You gonna be okay?"

I nodded. "As okay as a gay, red-booted farmboy can get, I suppose."

He smiled broadly. "Go and get changed back into your drab straight person disguise and come back here for another session tomorrow. You get to be a teen superhero."

"I thought that was Jason's department."

"Nyah. I fired his lazy ass. Besides, I need someone strong for my champion. And that would be you." I felt a swell of pride as he patted my shoulder. "Go and get changed."

Fifteen minutes later I was leaving his apartment in what I would now refer to as my "straight person disguise". At the door, I turned to Rick once more and said, "Hey, Rick. Thanks a lot. For everything." Then, I added, "I love you."

Without pause, he answered, "I love you too, Dickie." And I knew that this was true.

As I stepped over the threshold, Rick called to me. "Hey, and Dickie--!" I turned back. "Don't call Benji tonight. And if you can avoid it, don't talk to him at school, either."

"I won't", I said. "I promise." And I went home, knowing what I said was true, too.