Jaron stretched his legs before leaving the bedroom, hopping down the stairs to grab a bottle of water before heading out the door on his run, "Alan won't mind, I'm sure." He walked over to the track, which was only a few blocks down the street. Jaron started with a few leg stretches, jogging in place a few moments, then started down the track at a quick pace.
Alan didn't mind, that's for sure. After Jaron got the shoe on and Alan lost his form, he actually relaxed quite a bit. There wasn't anything he could do to hange the situation he was in - after all, he was oozing between his best friend's toes in his own shoes. Alan simply accepted things as they were, enjoying the increasing warmth all around his as Jaron started a fast jog towards the nearby public track. He'd always wanted to get at Jaron's feet, but Alan had no clue whatsoever that his chance at this would be as a living odor eater. He chuckled to himself slightly at the irony of the situation. Alan felt his new home warming up quite a bit, the outside thudding getting louder and more frequent, "He must be starting at the track. Awesome." Jaron's feet were mildly damp already, but this opened the water-works. Alan was almost immediately dripping in Jaron's footsweat, his already pliable form losing what little remained as he started to slide around and between Jaron's toes, aided by the generous footsweat from the run.
Jaron, meanwhile, was in the zone. He couldn't quite figure out what was so different, but he was charged up already from having Alan's shoes on. After all, he'd always wanted at his best friend's feet, but his shoes would do for now. The time behand to pass, one mile, two, three, four, and finally five. Jaron came to a stop, trying to catch his breath as he leaned forward on his knees, "Phew. Man, I should do that more often. I might keep these or something, haha." He sat down a minute, finishing off the bottle of water while checking his cellphone, "Man, I wonder why Alan hasn't checked in. The loser probably went somewhere and forgot to text me, lame." He was only mildly irritated since the two tended to do that by accident, but quickly got up heading back to Alan's house.
Alan, on the other hand, was still roasting inside his own shoe. He was loving every second of it, slowly drinking Jaron's sweat as he cushioned his buddy's toes as best he could. He was shocked, somewhat, that Jaron didn't check the shoe since he wasn't wearing socks and was so soft. He didn't care though, he was loving every second of his ironic little prison.
Jaron eventually got back to Alan's house, perplexed where everyone was, especially Alan. He went upstairs and decided to wait while taking a nap, slipping off the sweaty clothes from the track and putting on his normal clothes again. With a slight stuggle, Jaron slid off the tight 14s, exposing his tired 14.5s, "Oh man. I'm surprised I didn't blister, no pain!" Much to Alan's dismay, he'd come out of the shoe with Jaron's foot, still molded under his toes - and being body temperature still, not noticed by Jaron.
"Oh shit," thought Alan, "What am I going to do now?"
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