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“Alright, everyone!” The instructor, Mike, has a sturdy voice to go along with his impressive strong body.
Eddie used to feel intimated (if not flustered) at the sight of his trainer back at the beginning of his classes with the guy. Now, he knows it’s more of a façade, a slightly less usual side of Mike to impose respect upon his students.
Eddie got into combat sports as a way of learning how to defend himself. He could have chosen to take self-defence classes only, sure, but he is also very much into sports. In this specific class, he is taught a variety of fighting techniques from many sports, like boxing, wrestling or martial arts. This way he can take out his daily rage and inner unhealthy anger while learning useful moves to take over any guy taller than him. Which is pretty much all of them.
He also has some anger issues, as per say. It got to the point where Eddie couldn’t take the subway anymore to get to work because he’d have to physically restrain himself from punching every jerk who kept pushing him aggressively. The height doesn’t’ help, always a factor that screams ‘I can’t fight you back so you can disrespect me!’.
Well, Eddie had enough of that. Now it’s been over a year since he signed himself up for fighting classes, and his looks have changed, enough that no one really wants to mess up with him when he’s wearing more revealing clothing. The kick boxing lessons, mostly, shaped him well, along with all the other physical activity he indulges in, like running. His legs, arms and shoulders definitely show off his abilities and serve has a warning.
Too bad he chose to wear a big sweater and sweatpants today.
“So, today’s class will be a little different.” Mike keeps projecting his voice around the big gym room. His back is facing the mirrored wall and, once again, Eddie can’t help but ogle up his dark skin reflecting the white lights in that perfect, distracting manner. He can feel his face a little hot, despite having yet to start sweating.
“You might be wondering who the other half of today’s class is.”
With that statement, Eddie’s attention finally falls on the other side of the room. He stares at the other eight people that fill up the gym besides his own classmates. By his side, he hears Beverly whispering.
“I’ve never seen them around here.”
Ben quietly adds “Me neither.”
Eddie thinks about saying something back, but his tongue gets tied at the last second when his eyes fall on a new subject of observation.
There’s a guy that looks like a leaf, way easy to knock down if someone blows air his way.
His pale skin contrasts harshly with the darkness of his hair. He’s staring intently at the floor, clearly not listening to a thing Mike is saying, and he looks kind of dumb standing there in his dark purple hoodie and dark grey shorts paired up with checkerboard socks.
Eddie’s first coherent thought is that he looks like an idiot. The second one is ‘The profile view certainly makes up for that…’ as he shamelessly checks him out silently, eyes trailing over the slight arch of the man’s nose.
Completely distracted, Eddie doesn’t pay attention to Mike’s voice.
“To my right side,” The trainer gestures a hand to Eddie’s side of the room, where he stands along with his two friends and the few other familiar faces he sees on a weekly basis. “I have one of my advanced classes.”
Never tearing his deadpan stare away from the stranger on the other side of the room, Eddie watches as the lanky man’s eyes carelessly lift from the floor and travel the unknown faces of Eddie’s group.
‘Fuck, he’s even more attractive from the front.’ It’s a dumb thought, Eddie has a lot of those.
He fails to react quickly enough and his breath hitches when their eyes meet. But god forbid if Eddie so much as flinched. With his cold, neutral eyes, Eddie glares right back and waits for the other guy to look away. But that doesn’t happen. The man’s uninterested posture changes, his back straightens, and his lips lift up in a teasing smirk.
‘Who the fuck is this guy?’
Eddie feels himself get defensive (and red) alarmingly fast. Is he being mocked?
“To my left, I introduce you our newest students. We’ve had a handful of classes so far, which, I’m sad to inform, makes you beginners.”
A few chuckles emerge from both groups, but for Eddie and the stranger, a staring contest seems more important at the moment.
Eddie squares up a little, unsuccessfully tries to make himself look taller (it’s a big issue for him, okay?) and lifts up one eyebrow while stuffing both hands on the front pocket of his sweater.
If the way he’s being stared at isn’t enough to keep him on the edge and annoyed, the fucker on the other side of the room decides to drag his eyes up and down Eddie’s body and lick his lips, somehow keeping the smirk plastered on his face, which only makes him look extremely stupid and desperate. But holy shit, if that doesn’t heat up Eddie’s insides and almost makes him lose his unbothered disguise.
So, definitely not being mocked.
He hears Bev’s quiet giggles by his side but doesn’t give them a second thought.
Mike claps his hands to gather up everyone’s attention. The sound makes Eddie jolt up, surprised, and uncertainly turn to face his instructor with an inevitable frown. He’s probably blushing, too, but it’s not like he can help it. His jaw twitches with frustration as he tries to focus.
“Now, as you can see, I’ve gathered you all here, beginners and advanced.” Mike continues his explanations while walking mindlessly from side to side with both hands behind his back. “I’ve decided to pair you up for learning purposes. I’m sure my advanced students will be able to teach you something today.” He speaks directly to the beginners before turning to face Eddie’s side. “And I’m sure you guys will be able to recognise your own past mistakes on our newbies.”
Eddie nods in response, trying hard to ignore the holes forming on the side of his face from the jerk’s consistent staring from the other side of the room.
“We’ll be working in pairs, I’ll give you more directions as we go but the goal today is for you to learn from each other. You can start by warming up. And make a few introductions while you’re at it. Get to know your enemy a little better.”
Great, socializing is just what Eddie signed up for with this gym membership.
As usual, he follows Beverly and Ben to their left corner near the mirrors to do casual muscle warm ups. He forces himself to keep his back to the rest of the class, or he knows he’ll be looking places he shouldn’t. But turns out his friends, or so he thought they were, are in a mood to tease him. After a few minutes of torso, shoulder and arm rotations and stretches, Beverly elbows his side, knocking the air out of Eddie’s chest.
“What was that for?” He hisses at her. Beverly simply nods her head past Eddie’s back, and he can almost guess what she’s going to say.
“Looks like you’ve got yourself an admirer.”
Eddie fights against the urge to take a look. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you don’t, cowboy. He hasn’t stopped staring at your ass since you turned around.” She rolls her eyes at him before resuming her exercises. Eddie flips her the bird discreetly and tries not to feel too invaded now that he knows he’s being checked out.
Ben also steals a glance behind Eddie’s back, and by this point Eddie’s more than ready to snap at both of them to quit being so obvious. Instead, he shuts the urge down and starts with his wrist stretches.
“I feel kind of bad for him, though.” Ben speaks with a sided soft smile. Eddie drops both arms and sighs, throwing his head back.
“Yeah.” Bev agrees. “He looks like he’d pay you to crush his head with your thighs anytime.”
“Bev!” Eddie screeches, feeling the blood pump up to his ears. “You can’t just say stuff like that when we’re in public!” He keeps his angry ranting at her, she only laughs back. Eddie notices Ben’s face pale up at something behind his back, and he stops talking abruptly, assuming that the stranger was coming up their way. Eddie stifles up a groan, but once he hears Mike’s, now softer, voice approaching them, he feels his shoulders relax.
“Hi, Mike!” Bev greets him cheerfully.
“Hey guys, how are you doing?”
Truth is, Mike is more than their trainer. They’ve all become close friends during the past year of weekly meetings. That doesn’t mean Eddie can’t think Mike’s hot, because he is, and he knows that his friends think the same. Mike knows it, too, and they all have a good laugh out of it. It’s just how they work.
“Eddie has a crush.”
Ben, for fuck’s sake, Ben says it and throws an arm around Eddie’s shoulders. He feels betrayed.
“No, I fucking do not. Don’t listen to them, Mike.” He pushes Ben’s arm away, still very much making sure not to turn around and have any possible eye contact with the subject of their conversation.
With a warm laugh, Mike crosses his arms. “And who, may I ask, is this not-a-crush?”
Eddie mumbles and curses under his breath while pinching the bridge of his nose. He waits for either of his ‘awful’ friends to answer for him, but everyone just stares at him expectantly. So, Eddie sighs in defeat.
“See the stick-figure guy with the purple sweater?” He whispers through his frown. Mike pretends to look at all of his students for a while, then nods. Eddie continues. “He was just staring, okay? With a creepy smirk that totally never in a million years would work on me.” He rushes through the end while bending down to grab his knee up, keeping a perfect balance and feeling the pull on his thigh.
“Are you sure?” Mike asks with fake wondering. “He sort of fits your type.”
“That’s it, I’m quitting. You guys are the worst friends.”
Mike laughs and winks at him. “It’s a shame I’m the best teacher, though.” And starts walking away.
Oh no.
“Don’t you dare do anything. Mike!” Eddie whispers sharply and stares at Mike’s back as he walks away. He feels Bev’s weight on his shoulder.
“Sounds like today’s class will be interesting for you. Have fun.” And off she goes, skipping in her steps to introduce herself to one of the new students.
After the individual warm ups are over with, Mike starts by ordering everyone to form pairs. Ben gives Eddie a small pat on the back before making his way to a neat looking guy who seems to have been dragged here against his own will. Eddie stays behind, feeling childish for not being able to act like a normal adult and go up to anyone. It's like he's gone back in time too many years, to the days when he'd be left for last on gym class. He decides to stride over to the wire-wheeled cart that stores the softest, smallest, beginner's appropriate gloves and pads.
From the corner of his eye, he apprehensively watches Mike approach the weird/hot/idiot stranger. They chat for a total of 4 seconds, before pale guy is looking around and, once more, locking eyes with Eddie. Eddie tries, to no avail, to pretend like he wasn't caught staring by snapping his head back to the cart and retrieving the cleanest looking pair of gloves and pads.
He also pretends not to see the man approaching, faking surprise when the stranger invades his personal space.
"Hey, darlin. Looks like we're partners." He says smoothly.
Eddie struggles with the grip on the boxing gear, close to letting it fall, and reluctantly turns his neck to stare in disbelief at the man.
Okay, he's taller than expected.
"I think I need to agree to that first. And 'darling' is not a great way to convince me." Eddie emphasizes the nickname.
"What'd you rather have me call you?" The guy leans his weight on the cart. With his free hand, Eddie rushes to hold the cart in place before it starts to slowly roll away. "Sporty? Cutie? I could go with Master, Sir, Boss. You’re in charge of me, today.” He winks, then, and Eddie lets go of the cart, letting it stride away under the man's weight. He tries not to look too entertained when the guy gets startled by the movement and struggles to keep himself upright without falling.
"How about Eddie? It's my name." Eddie starts walking away, already knowing he'll be followed, so he keeps talking. "And I'm not the boss of you, let's try and keep this professional and act like the adults we are, shall we?" What a moral, Eddie.
"You sure sound a little bossy, Eds." The nameless man smirks. "Whatever you say, though. I'm Richie." Richie, apparently, holds out his hand for Eddie to shake. Instead, all Eddie does is to toss the gloves on Richie’s outstretched hand more forcefully than needed.
“It’s Eddie.” He says before sliding his own hands on the pads’ holders. “So, I assume you’ve already done these kind of pair exercises?” He asks once Richie’s got the gloves on properly.
“Guess you could say I’m an expert.” Richie replies and flexes one arm over his shoulder, even though it’s completely submerged by the baggy sweater.
Eddie lifts up one eyebrow.
“Impressive. Why don’t you prove it?” He immediately squares up and holds both pads firmly between their bodies. Richie seems slightly surprised by the suggestive tone and upfront posture, but he quickly recovers and gets into position.
If he’s going to be a tease, Eddie can be one back.
They’re at this for a while, but Eddie isn’t being the nicest. Richie is doing exactly what he’s supposed to, punching the pads. He’s got a good technique, not that Eddie would ever tell him that, so he tries to push limits by screaming at him between hits. Things like:
“Is that all you got?”
“C’mon, that’s a joke.”
“Harder! You’re not even trying!”
And when 10 minutes pass by, Richie is sweating, frustrated and a little huffy. His good natured smirks are gone. In the beginning, he tried to be a good sport, started by throwing off his crude jokes and stupid comments, but he gave that up once he got riled up by Eddie’s demands.
Of course, Eddie is beaming.
“You’re not the worst, but clearly still an amateur.” Eddie says while untying the pads of his hands. His breathing is jagged, but Richie’s way worse. “Here, let me show you.” He holds his hand out, and so, Richie tosses him the gloves, clearly annoyed with having his butt kicked only by words.
Once they’ve both traded positions, Eddie wastes no time in throwing a heavy fist right into Richie’s unprepared grip. He stumbles backwards on his feet when his arm is pushed back against his own mid-section, taking the air out of his chest with a little ‘oof’.
Eddie can see the exact moment Richie starts to get really bothered. His nostrils flare, shoulders square back, and his jaw tenses up. If he could, Eddie would smile victoriously.
With a fake neutral expression that begs to be cracked into laughs, Eddie asks him. “Are you sure you can take it? You seem like you’re struggling.”
Richie scoffs and gets in position. “Yeah, right. Just get on with it.”
‘Show-off.’ Richie thinks.
Eddie keeps throwing punch after punch with extra unneeded strength, Richie keeps struggling to keep himself upright but never once backs down. By the end of their next 10 minute round, Richie’s neck veins are prominent with the need of proving his worth, and droplets of sweat are dotting his face. Eddie isn’t far behind.
Not too long after this, Mike lets everyone have a break and leads the class into another gym room with padded, softer floor. Eddie is familiar with it.
They’re doing free combat. In other words, submission grappling moves. It makes him a little nervous.
Eddie turns to Richie to ask him if he has ever even done something like this, but he finds that Richie is no longer by his side. Eddie looks around in confusion before finding him ahead, chatting with the clean boy he saw early. The expression in Richie's face is one between a frown and a smirk, as if he is conflicted with whatever they were talking, while he slides his hands through the new pair of gloves needed for their next practice.
Eddie has a feeling that Richie can be talking about him, and not in a good way. It's just the type of person Eddie is, anxiety catches him in social environments.
'Chill out, he barely knows you.'
Eddie approaches him slowly, not wanting to invade anyone's conversation but rather just wanting to go get his own pair of gloves, stored in another cart near Richie and the other boy. Before he can get close enough, Richie and his friend split up and he retrieves a second pair of gloves from the cart, striding is way to Eddie. He passes him the equipment without a word.
Eddie puts them on and murmurs a 'thanks' under his breath.
"Have you had any class here, yet?" Eddie asks, genuinely wondering.
"We had a couple by now. Why?"
"Nothing. Just wasn't sure how much of a beginner Mike meant."
Both of them make their way to a free spot.
"Mike? Our trainer?" Richie asks, a smile finally making a reappearance. Eddie nods. "Didn't know you were on the first name basis with the guy."
Eddie stares at him for a moment, Richie is fixing up the felt straps around his wrists and his smile seems a little different. Their tired breaths fill in the seconds of silence.
"Yeah, we're pretty close friends."
Richie chuckles. "Oh, guess it makes sense, now."
Eddie looks at him quizzically. "What do you mean?"
Richie looks up from his hands and shrugs. "He told me you wanted to be paired up with me today."
“He what, now?” There's a short circuit in Eddie's brain. It must be a pretty scary sight because Richie's chuckles die down and his smile falls.
"Hey now, no need to get mad, Eds. T'was just a joke, right? And it's not that bad to work with me, admit it." He asks, there's a tint of something serious behind his playful tone.
Eddie scoffs but contains his frustration. "I'm not mad at you, I'm mad at him. He could have simply pair us up, for fuck's sake."
"So, you're not against it?"
Eddie eyes him sideways. "I never said that." Richie clicks his tongue in response and Eddie decides it's best to change topics. "Ready to get your ass kicked?"
"You know, that's fine material for a sex joke but I'm passing it up ‘cause my ego’s way too hurt.”
"Ah, I see. Finally admitting I'm better?”
“You know, Eds.” Richie ignores when Eddie corrects the nickname. “You really shouldn’t think so high of yourself. But in the meantime, teach me some moves, will ya?”
The tension between them seems to slip way after that, both of them falling into a fit of giggles before resuming their posture to be productive.
Eddie spends the next 20 minutes recreating the techniques he’s learnt that Richie hasn’t. They move systematically according to Eddie’s voice, and both of them are equally struggling with the amount of touch there’s involved. Eddie pushes it out of his mind, since he needs to set a plan for each grappling position and manually move Richie’s limbs and body in the right places. Richie, however, is at his mercy. Never knowing where’s he’s going to be touched next, a million spots catching fire from Eddie’s hands.
Each technique starts the same. Eddie will be the one in the advantaged side and manoeuvre Richie’s body until he’s got him into the submissive stance. Whether that’s with his arms pinned in unnatural angles, legs kicked out from under his body, or laying on the floor in various uncomfortable manners.
Eddie isn’t acting like a show-off, this time. He’s genuinely trying to be a good example and teacher so that Richie can gather up as much information as possible.
“Fuck.” Richie groans after being thrown on the floor, yet another time. Eddie steps out from above him, leaving Richie laying there with his nose planted on the cushioned floor and both arms falling heavily to his sides. “You keep kicking my butt over and over and I can’t even complain cause it’s hot.”
Eddie kicks his side then, not too strongly. “Stop putting innuendos on everything.”
Richie turns his head, so his cheek is planted on the floor instead, and he looks up at Eddie. “But think about it! I could flirt my attacker into submission.”
Already fearing what’s about to come, Eddie runs a gloved hand under his nose. “I don’t think that’s a thing.”
“That’s actually really clever, what the fuck.” Richie jumps on his feet and gets closer. Eddie gives a couple steps back. “Don’t run away from me.” He makes grabby hands. “C’mon, attack me.” He talks happily.
Eddie lifts up one eyebrow, but he’s weak. He gets behind Richie and throws an arm over his throat. Richie’s hands come up to grab at his forearm and he starts to do what Eddie showed him before, which was to bend down and try to swing Eddie’s body over his own, or at least twist his arm. But Eddie chickens out of it and cowardly kicks Richie’s legs from behind when he starts crouching, causing Richie to fall forward on his face and bring Eddie along with him. He ends up sliding over Richie’s back, slamming his own face onto the ground a second later.
Under him, Richie groans in pain and Eddie stumbles to crawl away from him. He gets to his knees in front of Richie and watches him rubbing at his nose. “Why didn’t you let go of my arm, you idiot?” Eddie snapped.
“Cause that’s not what you’re supposed to do when you’re being fucking attacked!” His voice is nasally. “You didn’t mention the kick in the legs when you taught me, before.”
“Must have missed that part.” He says nonchalantly. A pained grin appears on Richie’s face, Eddie feels alarmed. “What?”
“Nothing.” Richie shrugs and gets up, holding a hand out for Eddie. Slightly suspicious, Eddie holds on to Richie’s wrist to get up as well, but Richie tugs him up to his feet and pulls until their chests are touching. He leans closer to Eddie’s ear.
“’Fraid you can’t beat me if I start talking?” Eddie doesn’t try to move away, he’s in shock, pointedly ignoring meeting Richie’s eyes. Instead, he stares down at his jawline. “I can think of a couple ways you can shut me up.”
Eddie thinks about asking if any of those ways involves a good kick to the head, instead, his mouth hangs open like a fish and he can only feel grateful that Richie can’t take a good look at his face in this position. Of course, Richie ruins those plans when he pulls back a little, just enough so that they can look at each other. He is still grabbing Eddie’s wrist strongly, and there’s an unreadable expression on his face.
“You’re supposed to attack me, remember?” He says under his breath. Neither of them seems to care where they are.
With an embarrassed snarl, Eddie snaps out of it. He throws the technique out of the way and decides to kneel Richie in the balls. But Richie moves just as quickly as Eddie’s knee lifts up, his free hand coming between their bodies to grab under Eddie’s thigh and snapping it over to the side, leaving Eddie with only one feet on the floor, and, sadly true, his legs forced open.
Eddie is fuming with embarrassment, he sees red everywhere and if he doesn’t hit something in the next seconds, he’s going to throw Richie out of the window instead. And to top it all, Richie starts cracking up right there, in front of him. Tiny, mocking chuckles unsuccessfully covered by his lips squeezed shut.
Eddie doesn’t think, just lifts up his free arm and aims for Richie’s stupid mouth, but once more and to his great displeasure, Richie’s eyes grow big and he lets go of Eddie’s leg, hand coming up quickly and gripping Eddie’s other wrist back.
Finally with both feet on the ground, Eddie steps back and fights against Richie’s hard grip on his wrists.
“Holy shit.” Richie says, slightly excited eyes looking into Eddie’s red, red face. “You’re so bothered by my touch, baby.” Richie doesn’t seem to know when to stop. By this point, Eddie is mumbling hateful insults under his breath, along with some preoccupying threats aimed at Richie’s crotch’s well-being. “Or was it my words, sweetheart?” Richie grins, using all his strength to lead Eddie’s arms behind the his back.
For a moment, Eddie tries to calm himself and stops squirming against Richie’s hold, lets him pull his arms behind his back until Richie is holding both his wrists with only one hand. The other hand comes up, traces a mismatched pattern over Eddie’s covered arm. They space between their bodies is closed again.
Taking a big breath and letting Richie believe he’s got him cornered, Eddie watches his dumb, victorious smile.
Don’t do it, Eddie. Be professional. He’s just a jerk, it’s not worth it.
He doesn’t even know what he’s restraining himself from doing. Either throwing Richie’s body on to the floor or kissing him. He decides which is it pretty quickly.
Richie’s hands are bigger, that’s why he wraps one around both of Eddie’s wrists so easily, although he’s not doing the best job at using strength. The other finishes its trail and stops at the back of Eddies neck, just resting there.
Then, Richie opens his imbecile mouth. “I could punch you right now, you know, baby?”
If time was slower, Eddie would have taken a second to roll his eyes and tell him. Great, you’ve ruined it. Instead, all he does is to, quite strongly, tear his right wrist out of Richie’s hold and finally doing what he was prevented from before. His fist collides with Richie’s cheek.
Richie’s hands come up to his cheek immediately as he stumbles back a few steps. Eddie stares at him, hand throbbing slightly and feeling guilty almost instantly. The shock on Richie’s face is quite funny, but not at the moment.
“You punched me.” Richie mumbles while his hands cover his red cheek.
Fuck.
Through quivering, quick breaths, Eddie says. “You were embarrassing me in front of everyone.” Richie just keeps gaping at him in shock. His gloved hands fall at his sides. Eddie flinches at the sight of his flush red skin. That’s going to bruise badly. “Shit, I’m sorry. Are you okay?” He steps closer to Richie, but feels lost on what to do, so he just stands there with the worry dripping from his voice.
“Holy shit.” Richie’s eyes him dreamily. Eddie’s face contorts into confusion. “You punched me…”
“Okay… did- did I damage your brain, somehow?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever felt this attracted to anyone before...” Richie smiles cheekily at Eddie but hisses instantly when he feels it pulling on his bruising cheekbone. “Fuck, you didn’t spare me at all.” He passes his trembling gloved fingers over his face.
Eddie gives a look around the rest of the class, no one is paying them much attention, not even Mike. He turns back to Richie, not thinking too much before speaking. “If you promise to cut it out with the crude flirting, I’ll go with you to grab some ice on the infirmary section.”
Richie perks up at that. “Will you kiss it better?” Eddie groans and turns to walk away. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry.” He stumbles to keep up with Eddie.
“Wait for me in the locker room.”
Richie eyes him suspiciously. “You can’t make it easy for me to hit on you, Eds.”
Eddie stops walking and looks embarrassed at him. “I’m just… going to give Mike an excuse… I’ll meet you in a second, okay?”
Richie smiles again despite the stinging in his cheek. He smiles a lot in general.
Eddie watches him striding towards the cart to put his gloves away, and then quickly leaving the room.
When Eddie approaches Mike he puts on a fake annoyed frown at the sight of his friend and trainer smirking at him knowingly.
“No, no problem at all. Off you go, Eddie.” He crosses his arms and laughs when Eddie flips him off discreetly. He watches Eddie’s back as he stomps away. “I’ll make sure to mix beginners and advanced more times!”
Eddie gives him the bird over his head this time and heads off to the locker room, not giving a damn if he’s taking the gloves with him. Some things matter more, like an attractive idiot in pain to which he has special treatment to give.