#thirsty things

Running sucks.

Eddie repeats that mantra every year he’s forced out onto the track for the dreaded mile run. Those that argue school isn’t organized torture absolutely overlook the utter humiliation of having to pant and sweat and die a little more with each step… in front of others.

As a firm rebellion against such a horrible organized event, Eddie takes his time walking around the track. He smokes enough weed to break a sweat doing just that, so that’s all he’s really capable of, anyway. No matter how much he’s heckled or how often the gym teacher yells in his direction, Eddie’s pace doesn’t increase, nor does he try to do anything but put one foot in front of the other.

There are others who are much more equipped to run that pass him by, lap by lap. As the years went on and Eddie starts to notice certain features of a certain someone, the leisurely pace becomes about more than flipping off the establishment.

So much more.

See, Hawkins is known for the ugly green and yellow of their school colors. It’s all over the walls and decorations, the cafeteria and every sign – even their gym clothes are representative of the horrid spirit of Tiger Pride. While Eddie’s always been of the opinion that no one looks good in the palate of vegetable medley, he’s yearly proven wrong by Steve Harrington’s ass.

Without fail, The King is one of the first to sprint off the line when the whistle is blown. His long legs propel him down the track like a gazelle. Eddie’s fond of the way his muscles stretch as he rounds the corners to take on the straightaways. There’s no denying that everything about Steve Harrington is attractive. His pretty boy looks become more deliciously combined with his steadily developing manliness.

Most of the Hawkins High population thinks so.

Eddie’s is more than certain, however, that no one has cracked the magic code like he has. While all the girls walk in a line and complain, Eddie minds his own business and waits for the perfect moment when Steve passes him on the left. He’s zoned in and focused enough to watch the most wonderful thing. It’s a treat to witness Steve’s glorious ass bounce in those green shorts. They are just short enough for the break between hamstring and glute to be visible with every forward step.

Eddie’s never been more grateful for the bunching of fabric.

The only downside to his nefarious plan is the last lap. Since Steve is the golden boy and gets his mile done quickly, Eddie is forced to complete the last lap without any worthwhile stimulus. His breathing is erratic, not from the arousal that he briefly allows, but from the lack of oxygen getting to his lungs. It’s a struggle, but more than worth it to spend brief moments ogling the finest ass that Eddie’s ever seen.

Eddie’s second attempt at a senior year, something changes. Steve isn’t out ahead of everyone else, anymore. He’s jogging, though it’s nothing like the all-out sprint he seemed to do before. In fact, he’s running just enough to be about 100 meters ahead of Eddie. He’s in the perfect spot for Eddie to enjoy the rhythmic shift of Steve’s ass without having to look away.

It’s the absolute best, until Eddie breaks out of his trance enough to see Steve peering back over his shoulder to look at Eddie, too. It’s surprising and exhilarating and more than enough confusing stimulus for his feet to get caught up.

Eddie trips over himself with his tongue out like some feral dog.

The situation’s only saving grace is a strong hand that grabs Eddie’s arm and helps him up from the pile he made of himself on the track. Eddie doesn’t need to hear the dulcet tones of Harrington’s voice to recognize who’s come to his rescue. The pervy boy that’s been watching Steve run for the last few years recognizes hairy calves and shapely quads in his peripheral vision.

“You okay, Munson?” Steve asks once Eddie is stable on his feet. His eyes are dark with amusement and something Eddie can’t quite place.

Unsurprisingly, the look makes Eddie want to eat him alive.

Pushing that thought aside, Eddie absently nods his head. “I’m good. I uh – lost my footing. There’s a wet spot on the track over there – or something.”

Embarrassment and the low thrumming arousal that always fills Eddie up whenever Steve’s around keep him from saying something that actually makes sense – his tongue is thick with a desire that’s hard to tamper down. Especially when Steve licks his lips and smiles at him.

What the hell did he ever do to deserve such teasing?

“Maybe you should watch where you’re going.” Steve leans in then, dropping his tone. “My ass trips everyone up.”

Gasping, Eddie lets Steve’s words wash over him. Blood and shame and adrenaline and lust flock to a bunch of different places all at once. Eddie suddenly doesn’t know up from down. He can’t think straight, so he shrugs in the least casual way and hums awkwardly. It’s too good to be true, anyway.

Steve is just an arrogant ass who knows he’s beautiful.

And fuck if that’s not even more attractive.

Eddie continues to gap like a fish, while words escape him. Steve, the gentleman that he is, tries to hide the laugh bubbling up inside of him. He really does. Eddie can’t blame him when he snorts adorably.

“It’s okay, Munson. I get it.” Steve, who never actually dropped Eddie’s hand after helping him up, squeezes their fingers together before backing away. The touch is broken so quickly, Eddie’s head spins. He didn’t know it was there just a moment ago and now it’s like he can’t live without it.

His pain is somewhat soothed when Steve leaves him with a wink and knowing grin. The gesture is new and exciting – more than enough fodder for the spank bank Steve is the main star off. It allows him, at least, to forget about the humiliation of tripping all over himself as he gets up to start walking his mile again.

This time, when it takes him twenty minutes, he actually has an excuse. The scrape on his knee and brand new memories of the Steve Harrington jiggle are still distracting him.

Eddie thinks about what just happened as he ignores the slack he’s going to be getting for months to come. The situation occupies his mind as he strips down to nothing and wraps a towel very quickly around his hips. It’s all his brain can toss around while the water heats up.

And there’s certainly no stopping it when all too familiar legs step into Eddie’s view.

But if all the hot game/movie/animated villains were *all* voiced by Matthew Mercer... I would 100% be this meme in real life.