"I still don't see why you feel the need to go to the gym, Kurt," Blaine said as they stepped through the doorway. He leaned closer and whispered, "you look gorgeous enough as it is."

Kurt could feel his face heat as a blush spread across his cheeks. He still, after nearly three months of dating, wasn't used to compliments just being dropped into conversation.

"Anyway," Blaine nudged Kurt's shoulder, "aren't you worried about all that sweat messing up your hair?" He was temporarily distracted by the image of Blaine getting all sweaty to process the words. Then Kurt turned round to find him grinning. Kurt elbowed him in the ribs.

"Shut up, Anderson, I can see the extra gel you put in yours to make sure it doesn't get all fluffy." Blaine opened his mouth to say something in reply but couldn't think of a good enough retort so closed it….and opened it again. Kurt laughed, taking Blaine's hand and tugged him along.

"Come on, mini Mr Schue, let's get in there."

They'd put on their gym clothes before leaving so they paid the friendly woman at the reception desk, passed straight through the changing rooms, pausing only to put their bags in a locker, and went into gym itself.

There were a few people dotted around using various weight machines and treadmills, but it wasn't as busy as Kurt thought it would be. He came to the conclusion that two o'clock on a Sunday afternoon wasn't particularly optimum gym-going time for the people of Ohio.

Good. He'd feel self conscious if people were all around, watching him flailing while running or being not quite strong enough to lift a certain weight.

Blaine was his usual slightly impatient self and jumped on the nearest machine to get started. Kurt was more careful. His, admittedly short, time on both the Cheerios and football team had assured him that warming up was the best way to avoid injury.

After carefully stretching his arms, torso and legs, which Blaine paused his enthusiastic cycling to watch, Kurt climbed onto the exercise bike next to him and started pedalling himself.

It soon turned into an undeclared but passionate competition between them to see who could pedal the fastest and for the longest. Kurt resorted to slightly dirty tactics in the end, reaching over to turn the dial on Blaine's right up, so far that he couldn't push against the resistance and he gave in.

"Fine," he panted, temporarily too tired to argue, "you win this one." Kurt, red faced and slightly sweaty, punched the air.

"One-nil to me!" He breathed, "I'm so gonna kick your ass today!"

So then, it all became a challenge or a race.

They saw who could run on the top setting on the treadmill for the longest - Blaine won. Kurt claimed he'd allowed that one so he could catch up. It had probably been quite dangerous, but they didn't care - they were having fun.

They saw who could put up with the slowest setting for the longest - Kurt won this time. Blaine whined that he'd come for exercise not training to be a snail.

They saw who could do the most push-ups. Kurt won again, Blaine blaming his loss this time on that fact that he'd tried - and failed - to do them one-handed. Kurt told him it was his own fault for trying to show off. Blaine stuck his tongue out and, at that point, Kurt had to try very hard to resist the urge to catch it. With his teeth

They moved on to the rowing machine next. Kurt jumped on first, strapping his feet onto the plastic at either side.

"First to 300 metres?" He offered.

"If you think you can manage it," Blaine teased, folding his arms.

"Hey, I've got no problems with stamina if that's what you're implying." Kurt smirked, turning a little red…but not quite as red as Blaine, whose eyebrows had shot up at the remark. Kurt chuckled and grabbed the handle. He pressed a few buttons, resetting the various numbers to zero and began rowing.

It was fairly easy at first and Kurt was able to keep up a quick and steady pace. But at around 200 metres, his arms were straining. He kept his eyes focussed on the digital screen that was counting the distance far too slowly for Kurt's liking.

Finally, the numbers ticked over showing Kurt had gone 300 metres in one minute and thirty six seconds. Arms screaming for a break, Kurt un-strapped his feet and stood up, pointing to the time with a triumphant smile on his face to find Blaine looking at him strangely.

"Beat that, Blaine Warbler!" Blaine's eyes were trained downwards, his jaw slack.

"Blaine?" He looked up suddenly, blinking a few times, his cheeks a shade of pink that Kurt couldn't explain; he was the one who'd just been rowing, not Blaine.

"Huh? Oh, rowing, yeah." A smile spread across Blaine's face. "I'm definitely going to beat you on this one."

He took up Kurt's place on the machine, resetting the numbers as Kurt had and began to row.

Oh.

Now Kurt understood the way Blaine had been looking at him. As Blaine's arms moved, Kurt could clearly see the muscles moving under his skin, his shirt stretching over his chest with each pull, moving against his torso in a way which surely should be illegal.

Kurt cast a glance down to Blaine's legs, seeing that there too, the muscles were shifting under his lightly tanned skin.

Kurt swallowed. Hard.

Bringing his eyes back up to Blaine's chest, he gripped the hem of his shirt tightly in his hand. How Blaine thought it was appropriate or necessary to move quite like that in front of him, Kurt didn't know.

He let out a quiet whimper as a bead of sweat dripped down the side of Blaine's neck, over his collar bone and soaked into his shirt. It took all Kurt had not to just lick it off. They were in a public place, after all.

But since when had his neck always been that damn…long?

Kurt's terribly unclean thoughts were interrupted when Blaine threw his arms up in the air and cheered.

"Yes! One minute twenty nine. Take that!" Kurt was only vaguely surprised to find he didn't really care about winning. Blaine drank a few mouthfuls of the water they'd brought with them and the way his throat moved challenged the very last of Kurt's will power.

He looked up in what he hoped was the direction of a clock he'd seen when he walked in.

"Oh dear, looks like our time's up, we'd better go. Let's just call it a draw." He could hear the scratchiness in his voice and a grin spread across Blaine's face. Kurt lead the way to the changing rooms.

As soon as Blaine entered, he began pulling off his shirt, intending to just get changed in the open. Kurt, however, tugged him round to a section where there were cubicles with doors. He pulled Blaine into one.

"Okay, now you can take that off." Kurt whispered, closing and locking the flimsy door. Blaine complied willingly before turning to his boyfriend and cocking an eyebrow.

"Now, it's only fair if yours comes off too." He reached out and tugged the hem of Kurt's shirt up and over his head, discarding it on the small bench at the side of the changing cubicle.

"Much better," he murmured before Kurt pushed him against the wall, hands either side of his head, their sweaty chests pushed together.

Just before he gave in to his earlier urge to lick up Blaine's neck, two thoughts, aside from the obvious, crossed Kurt's mind.

The first was that he decided he liked the feel of their bodies pressed together like this; he was surprised to find he didn't mind the fact that they were sweaty. At all.

The second was that he was sure the book had meant doing the exercise and not watching it.