Dead Heat by spiceylife
It was Jack’s crazy-ass idea: a foot race along the lake’s edge, loser gets the boring task of putting the tent up again at the next campsite, further along the mountain.
The boys ran swiftly across the muddy, uneven earth, barefoot, barechested and competitive, with Ennis pacing himself nicely behind Jack, trusting his endless stamina and a pair of long, lean legs to move past his friend and claim an easy victory whenever he was ready.
But Ennis stared too long at Jack’s mesmerizing backside bouncing along in front of him and forgot to watch the soft, treacherous ground under his feet, causing him to stumble awkwardly and catapult forward, flying through the air spectacularly and landing face-first in the watery mud with no finesse whatsoever; Jack, hearing the ooofffff sound Ennis made as he went down, glanced over his shoulder, saw Ennis spread-eagled on the ground, mud dripping down his astonished face, and he laughed so hard and so suddenly that both feet slid out from under him as he lost traction and became airborne for a second, like slipping on a banana peel, and then – splat! – Jack came down on his bum in the splashy, sticky mud, an equally spectacular landing, also lacking style and grace, and with an ooofffff sound to match Ennis.