I'd been spending more and more time at Rick's. When I wasn't posing, Rick let me come over and hang out. I'd watch movies with him, flip through his portfolio, or whatever. It had become habit that every time I came in, I'd greet Rick, go straight to the bedroom and get into my red and blue uniform. It got so it didn't feel right to be at number 37 without my uniform on. Unless I was in costume, of course.

Today I was dressed as a harlequin, just like the cheesy romance novels my mom reads. The outfit was actually pretty cool. All blacks and white, with a black beret and a kind of checkerboard/diamond pattern on the pants. "Y'know, in a pinch, I could be a superhero in this costume", I told Rick.

"Easily. The harlequin had the power to turn invisible, you know."

"No kidding? So, can I use that power now, maybe?"

Rick grinned as he rewound the film. "You're done. Go get back into your u niform already." In less than five minutes, I was back out in my red rubber sweatshirt, denim bibs and red boots.

I skimmed through some of the portfolio pieces Rick has laid out for matting, and I notice the shots of me as a superhero. There's a marked discrepancy between the reference photos and Rick's illustrations, at least as far as my physique goes. "I'm too skinny", I observe.

"Well, I've got a Soloflex in the next room if you ever want to get in some workouts, Dickie. We'd want to set you up with a regimen when I'm sure to be here, though. It's a lot easier to exercise steady when you have a partner to work out with." Rick snapped his fingers. "Speaking of partners", he said, pointing to my uniform, "I still need another boy for that farm buddy scene I have to shoot. It'd save me some trouble interviewing potential models if you can recommend somebody you know. Preferably somebody with different hair color than Ben."

"You mean anyone who's not Ben", I surmised.

"No, I mean a blond, redhead, like that. You and Ben both have brown hair. Different shades or not, I'd like my farm buddies to be a bit more distinctive." Rick tossed down on the table some sketches he'd been doodling of some firemen.

"So", he asked again, "you know of anyone?"

The next day at vocational class I was talking with Gerald. Our likeness assignments had turned out pretty well, although Gerald's likeness of me was better than mine of him. We were in the process of exchange color copies we'd made of our respective pieces so we would each have a copy.

"Um, so, like, I was thinking", I stammered, "if you know, that is, if you're not doing anything, not that you wouldn't maybe have plans, but--" I stopped, licked my lips, swallowed. "Um, what I mean is--"

Gerald looked at me as if I'd grown a horn on my forehead. "Dickie, what are you trying to ask me?"

"You remember those photos of me as the sewer worker and stuff?"

"Yeah, the ones that graphic designer on your paper route took. What about 'em?"

"Wellll...the designer guy is doing another assignment, and this time he needs two models and I was wondering if you'd be interested in, you know, if it at all sounds like something you might want to try--"

"Dude! Are you kidding me?? He wants me to pose with you for his artwork?! Are you serious??"

"Well, he didn't ask for you specifically, but he asked me to recommend someone and he trusts my judgment, mostly."

"Oh, man!", Gerald beamed. "Dickie, you have GOT to recommend me! That'd be so awesome! I would love it! We'd pose together, right? How many other guys are in the running?"

I smiled. "Let's just say you're near the top of a short list."

That afternoon at number 37, Gerald was as hyper as I ever was about posing. He even went with me on my paper route to help me get it done quicker. He was nearly bouncing as Rick gave him the tour of the photo area, backdrop setup and such. He saw that the standing area had been strewn with bits of hay and straw, with Rick's prop hay bails positioned just right, backed by a convincing backdrop of a barn interior.

"So what do we get to do?", Gerald asked, still bouncing. "I see the barn picture. Are we gonna be, like in pig costumes or chicken suits or something? Or a cow? Do I get to be a cow??"

Rick rested a hand on Gerald's shoulder. "Down, boy. I don't think I've ever even had a cow costume. You get to be a farmboy. In fact, you and Dickie both do, that's the whole point. Think you can pretend to be his best friend in the whole world?"

Gerald threw his arm around my shoulder and pulled me close to him, catching me totally off guard. "I think we can pull that off", he glowed.

"Well, lookit", Rick said, "I've got to zip off to the photo center and pick up the film I need, 'cause I'm all out and haven't had the chance to restock today. Dickie? You wanna show Gerald his costume?" Rick gave me a look that said, "I'm trusting you he won't freak" as he grabbed up his wallet and made towards the door. "I won't be too long", he said, and was gone.

Gerald was ready to burst. "So? What do I get to wear? It's not a cow costume, then. I'm just a farmboy, huh? Am I gonna be a chicken at all today?"

"That remains to be seen", I said, and led him to the next room.

I took great pains in setting things up so as not to scare Gerald off. He seemed more than willing, but imagining some horseplay in a chicken suit was a long way from donning the gear of a rubberist farmboy. I had him sit on the edge of the bed while I stepped behind the changing screen and put on my uniform.

"O-okay, I'm ready", I said from behind the screen.

"Um, alright. Let's see it."

I took a deep breath and clenched and unclenched my fists. This was it. The moment of truth. I was going to show Gerald my uniform. It felt tantamount to telling him I was gay. Part of me wanted to peel the suit of hurry-quick and back out.

"You okay? I'm all set out here."

But there was no backing out now.

I was about to show the boy of my dreams my favorite outfit, and I was more than a little nervous. With Rick gone, it was just the two of us. Anything could happen now, and emotionally, I was exposing myself completely to Gerald. This is how I saw myself now, in the red rubber and denim blue overalls. This is how I wanted him to see me, too.

With my heart in my throat, I stepped out from behind the changing screen. "Well, this is it", I said, oafishly. I tried to stand tall, to look impressive, but knew there was no way to convey how I felt about this suit to anyone else. They'd just have to understand.

Gerald's mouth fell open and he raised his eyebrows. He started to say something, then shifted uncomfortably on the bed. I knew it. He was about to bolt. He just looked me up and down. He shook his head slightly, put a hand to his mouth, then looked me over again. He ran his tongue over the front of his teeth and then rubbed his jaw pensively. I had no idea what must have been going through his mind.

"This is my favorite of all Rick's costumes", I offered.

Gerald looked at me askance. "Are you--is this the farmboy costume or something?"

"Something like that, yeah."

He shifted again, crossing and uncrossing his legs at the ankles. "Dickie, those boots--" he paused. "Those boots, and--um, that--" He patted his hands nervously against the bed. "Is that shirt the same material as the boots?"

My heart was pounding out of my chest. Here it comes. The rejection, the denouncement. "Yup." I closed my eyes in preparation for the verbal onslaught.

"Cool."

I opened my eyes, uncertain I heard what I thought I heard. I was about to ask Gerald to repeat it, but found I had no voice. He continued to shake his head, but did so with a smile. "Man, you are wearing a rubber shirt."

I smiled, breathing a sigh of relief. "Yeah. Yeah, I am."

"Can I touch it?"

I was suddenly hard as a rock and thankful beyond words for the snug rubber undersuit and bulky overalls which served so well to hide young boys' erections. "S-sure. Go ahead. If you wanna."

Gerald stood up and gestured for me to step closer. He wiped his palms on his pants and nervously, showing great caution, fingered some of the folds of the red rubber between his thumb and forefinger. He grinned broadly, looking on with admiration. Quietly, he asked me, "What does it feel like to wear that?"

"It feels really, really good", I confided.

"Do the boots feel like this too?"

"Oh, yeah! Even more so. They don't have any cloth lining inside 'em. They're rubber inside and out. Oh, and look here--", I said, throwing caution to the wind. I unbuttoned the side of my overalls to reveal the skintight undersuit. "The boots are connected to an undersuit so you're pretty much all covered in rubber."

In a low whisper, he said, "Wowww."

Gerald just kept staring in admiration, and after a moment I buttoned the sides back up again, feeling a bit uncomfortable standing there unfastened, as if I were flashing him or something. Finally he touched my sleeve once more and then forced himself to put his hands in his back pockets.

"Can I try it on?"

I had died and gone to heaven. I reached to take Gerald by the hand, but stopped myself in mid-reach and took him instead by the arm. "C'mere." I led him over to the costume chest and threw open the lid to reveal a variety of bib and boots outfits.

Gerald's eyes lit up when he saw the multicolored stash. "Whoa. This is great."

I immediately grabbed up the twin red and blue uniform and offered it to Gerald. "Here. You gotta try this on. You will look so--I mean, you will love the way it feels. Really." For the first time, Gerald scrunched his nose. I had no idea why. "What? What's wrong?"

"I really don't think we should wear the same outfit. It just seems kinda---well, you know." He shrugged.

Still able to feel the sting of my fiasco with Ben, I was not about to press the issue. "Oh. Well, right. We shouldn't both be in red. That'd be pretty gay." I swallowed, trying to ignore what I'd just said. Then, a bit too eagerly, I said, "Do you wanna wear the red?" I began to unbuckle one bib strap. "Because I could wear something else--"

Gerald reached into the chest. "Actually, I'd really like to try on the yellow." He pulled out a bright canary yellow rubber boot that showed from the way it shined as it caught the light that it had never been worn.

I smiled, a bit hurt he didn't go for the red, but still happy he wanted to wear one of the outfits. "Sure. Cool. Can you fit into a size 11 boot?"

"I wear a 10", he said.

"Oh, that shouldn't be too big a problem", I said quickly, not wanting him to have any excuse not to dress up. "The 11 should still fit you well enough to--"

"They're 10s", he said. I sat there mutely as he turned the boot over to show me the small number on its sole. It was indeed a size 10. And all the others were 11s. Hmm. Gerald then yanked the yellow boots, undersuit, rubber sweatshirt and overalls out of the chest. "Show me how to work the overalls." I gave him a crash course in pulling on the bib straps without twisting them, and showed him that the pant legs were already cuffed where he'd want them. I pointed out the powder he'd need to squeeze into his undersuit. A moment later and I was pacing in the living room while he changed.

After what seemed an eternity, the bedroom door creaked open and I whirled to see the most beautiful boy in the world step out onto the thick carpet in his canary yellow rubber sweatshirt, matching tall boots, and adorable crisp bib overalls. My heart skipped a beat and my dick throbbed in my pants. It was all I could do not to lunge over and smother him with kisses.

Gerald stepped gingerly across the threshold, not out of any discomfort, but appearing to relish every movement he made in his new suit. He walked as if on eggshells, carefully lifting up and then firmly setting down his boots as he went. He kept his arms held loosely out at his sides, almost as if balancing on a log fallen across a creek. He rotated his arms ever so slightly, feeling the brush of the thick rubber against his bare skin. He was grinning ear-to-ear.

I wanted to ask him how it felt. I wanted to tell him he looked beautiful. I wanted so many things at that moment but all I was able to do was stare. Gerald looked down at himself as he came to a stop before me. Lightly, he touched the bib overalls with his hands, pressing the soft denim against the rubber sheathing his body beneath. He looked up at me and his eyes danced.

"Man, this...is fucking...inCREDible."

It was all I could do not to hug him right then and there. But there was something more than discretion that kept me from my impulse. Something about this seemed a bit...familiar. I watched as Gerald walked around proudly in his big yellow boots, squatting here and there, enjoying the feel of the undersuit, doing stretches, flopping down on the couch, putting his feet up, springing back up onto the carpet. Those boots...

"Ger, you've worn boots like this before, haven't you?"

He was walking around the furniture in small circles, arms out as if he were balancing on a tightrope. "Mmm...could be."

I snapped my fingers. "Career Day! At school, that day during Spirit Week when we could come to school dressed up as who we wanted to be when we grew up. You came dressed as a fireman. Black suit, oversized jacket with the wide yellow stripe, the yellow fireman's helmet--"

"--and big yellow boots", he answered.

I crossed my arms. "Gerald, did you wear that outfit because you--because you liked the feel of it?"

"Guilty as charged", he smirked.

I lowered my voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Did you, you know, wear anything underneath it? Any underwear?"

He grinned. "Nope."

"Dude! No WAY!!"

"Way." He walked over to me and fingered the sides of my bib. "I didn't think there was anyone else in the world who liked this feeling like I did. It's pretty cool we have more in common than just that vocational class."

My eyes shone. "So, you'd be willing to pose for photos with us dressed like this?"

"Oh, try to stop me." I was bouncing on the balls of my feet. "Except...", he began. Uh-oh. here it comes.

"Except what?", I asked tentatively.

"The red. I don't think you look so good in the red rubber. I mean, it looks pretty okay and all, but I think you'd do way better in another color."

Now this I hadn't anticipated. "Like what?", I asked him.

"Blue."

I raised an eyebrow. "Blue. Really."

"C'mere." He took me by the hand (not the shoulder, not the elbow) and led me into the other room. He bent down over the costume chest which had clearly been digging through earlier with some vigor. "Where is it where is it where---ah! Take this." He tossed me a lightweight rubber T-shirt with 3/4 sleeves. It was a brilliant electric blue. I don't think I'd ever noticed it before. "Oh, and you gotta switch to these." He handed over a pair of baggy, stonewashed bib overalls.

"They're all faded", I said.

"But the lighter color shows off the other blue better. Besides, they're Dickies. It's destiny, man." I smiled, watching his back as he dug further. Then, he stood up, turning to me with a smile a mile wide. "And theeese", he cooed.

He held up a pair of size eleven electric blue knee boots with white soles. The logo on the side of calves said BlueMax. I took them, looking them over curiously, finding the attached undersuit had been tucked into the shafts. He put his hands together in supplication. "Please. You would look sooo sweet."

I couldn't help but smile at bright yellow comrade. "Give me a minute."

He yanked back two fists. "Yes!!"