You wouldn't exactly call Dean your friend, but he's always been friendly to you, and out of the few guys you consider he seems the most level headed. Despite his good looks, athleticism and popularity, you know he's considerate, unlike many of his teammates. You decide it's probably best to try him for help. Hopefully he won't have the impulse to crush you on sight.
You jog across the locker room to where Dean stands, the sound of the guys returning growing louder by the second. Countless pairs of empty shoes lay scattered on the floor, amongst them odd articles of clothing, all of which you navigate to reach your destination. A pair of long, designer trainers signal your terminus, off-white from months or even years of wear. The bench towers above you, there is no way you'll be able to get up there. You have to find a way to make yourself visible to Dean without alerting the others around him. The thought of being caught by the likes of Luke makes your stomach turn, his grizzled sneakers laying overturned next to Dean's. There are people filling up the room now, so you decide to act quickly. You run over to Dean's empty trainers, the lip comming up to your chest. You figure that you can hide inside untill Dean goes to put it on, when you can reveal yourself. Yet as you peer into the grimy depths of the teenager's footwear, the sour odour of his footsweat rises up and catches your nostrils. The damp, tangy smell of Dean's hot feet was so good now you were this small. Despite the need for haste you pause on the threshold, taking a long deep breath, inhaling the musky scent.
A sudden sense of urgency takes you, snapping you out of your little daydream. You quickly glance behind you to see Luke striding in, his t-shirt slung over his shoulder revealing his glistening abs. His massive size even at a distance inspires you with awe, yet you hurriedly hurl yourself over the fabric hurdle into the opening of Dean's sneaker. The sole is sticky with a perpetual layer of ill-smelling moisture, yet you shrug it off and crouch down, wedging yourself underneath the tongue so that you're our of sight. Your heart is thumping, you can hear it crashing between your ears as your body tenses in excitement. Sound seems to blur as the countless giants outside begin to change. A shadow passes overhead, surely that of Luke. You can just about see out towards where Dean's clothes are hanging, your field of view extremely limited. A moment passes, and your eyes start to wander over the dank interior. The overwhelming sense of scale begins to dawn on you, now trapped like a mouse inside a jock's sneaker, in Dean's sneaker, surrounded the ripe smell you know you should hate but that you can only revel in. You fight the temptation to crawl into the toe section where that mesmerising odour would be strongest, knowing you have to get the giant's attention.
It isn't long before he make his entrance. He is clothed in his football gear, yet when he sits all you can see are his exposed shins, finely sprayed with faint, brown hairs. You watch through your little window as he undresses, first taking off his boots and socks, then sliding his shorts down around his ankles. You smile as you see his boxers follow, then his jockstrap shortly after. The chance to see the teenage adonis naked is infront of you, but you stay put sticking to your plan. You hear him through his gear into his sports bag as Luke asks him if he's going to shower. Dean declines, saying something about heading home as he starts to put on his day clothes. The time is nearing, with Luke away and Dean now slipping on his socks your muscles start to twitch. You sense him lean over, picking up his other trainer and slipping it on, adeptly tying the laces. You're next.
As his fingers enter, you poke yourself out, not to quickly as not to frighten him. Yet frighten him you do as his hand quickly retreats and his posture shoots up straight. His handsome face is struck with surprise and a quiet sense of amazement, as if this isn't completely unexpected. He lifts his shoe onto his lap before leaning in, speaking in a whisper.
"Holy shit Tom, is that you?"
"Yeah" You reply, relieved your voice still works and that he can hear you.
"What the fuck are you doing in my sneakers?" He asks with a laugh, smiling cooly.
You quickly search for an answer, not wanted to admit to your love of his feet. "I needed to find somewhere you'd be sure to see me. It worked didn't it?"
"Heh, yeah, I guess it did." He pauses and looks sharply to his left before turning back, his face now severe. "We can't talk here, I need to get you to my place but I don't know how to get you out of here without someone knowing."
"I'll just lay under your toes" You suggest, suddenly blushing as your hear how that sounded
"I'll crush you. No-" Again he turns his head before muttering a quick 'shit', flicking his sneaker causing you to fall onto your front and slide downwards into the musky cavern feet first. Now you can see nothing outside being deep down inside the sneaker, surrounded by the damp walls and their putrid aroma. You hear Luke talking to Dean above, clearly suspicious. As their voices continue, Dean begins to move.
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