5 more minutes… Kurt concentrated on breathing, keeping his feet moving in time to the music, trying to ignore the burning feeling in his tired legs.

A hand reached over, quickly pushing a few buttons on the treadmill, increasing the incline.

“Blaine!” Kurt could hardly find breath enough to complain as his wobbly legs tried to adjust to the more intense workout.

But Blaine was just smiling broadly. “Come on, Kurt. You can handle it. Remember how you complained about how you couldn't keep up with this speed and now you are doing fine.”

Nodding, Kurt gritted his teeth and kept moving. Four more minutes… Sweat was dripping down his face, and he knew his pale skin was probably blotchy red with exertion. His headband didn't help much, but at least it kept his hair off his face.

Finally, the time beeped and the treadmill automatically moved back to zero incline, and the speed decelerated to the cool down levels. Kurt grabbed his towel, rubbing it over his damp face and into his sweat-soaked hair, knowing it was a mess.

Blaine passed him a water bottle. “Great job today, Kurt.” He was smiling and nodding, and Kurt smiled back, basking in his approval. “So, do your cool down here, and then onto the mat for some stretches, especially your hamstrings. See you on Thursday?”

“Yup, Thursday.” Kurt nodded, and watched as Blaine collected his paperwork and water bottle, heading back towards the office area. He was fit and muscular, but not overly bulky. His gym uniform fitted him well, the black shorts and maroon polo shirt with a gold embroidered gym logo. Kurt's eyes travelled down over Blaine's back, down over his ass in those little shorts, and down his muscular legs.

Kurt sighed. Yes, he had it bad for his personal trainer. Over the years, he'd had crush after crush on straight guys or unattainable guys. Every time, he swore never again to himself, knowing it was foolish to get his hopes up only to have them dashed. Straight guys weren't going to suddenly change teams and hot, gay men like Blaine weren't ever going to be interested in a guy like Kurt. Pale-skinned, effeminate and fat. Looking around the gym as he moved over to the mat, most of the men were tanned and had muscles that belonged on the cover of a men's fitness magazine. He'd never fit in.

Dropping to the mat, Kurt took a long swig of water before bending over his legs, feeling the stretch in his back and along his hamstrings.Well, at least I'm working on losing weight.Looking into a nearby mirror, he could see already that his face was a little slimmer, and his clothes were looser. It felt good.

Finished up the stretches, Kurt had a quick shower, feeling thankful that the gym had private shower stalls with a door you could latch shut like a toilet stall. Although he was feeling better about his body, he was not feeling good enough to be in the shower naked with all the gym rats around. That would feel too much like the high school locker room.

Soon, he was in his normal clothes and heading out to the subway. It was still early, the New York traffic busy with commuters. Blaine's instructions were echoing in Kurt's head as he choose to take the stairs instead of the escalator, trying to fit in ways to be more active into his daily routines. As he waited for the train to arrive, Kurt felt a sense of accomplishment that he wasn't really winded from running down all those stairs, like he had been the first time he'd done it. Progress.

About forty minutes later, he was arriving at the theatre, entering from the stage door entrance and heading down the narrow, twisting hallways to the wardrobe department. Hardly anyone was around this early, which Kurt loved.

Hanging up his coat, Kurt sat down at his station, tucking his gym bag out of the way and putting his messenger bag into a drawer. There were a few garments folded up on the table with a scribbled note from Lucy on top.Ugh, more repairs.

Grabbing a cup of coffee, Kurt put the music on and got to work, knowing the damaged garments needed attention first for the performance later today. Then he could get back to working on the clothes for the upcoming performance of A Midsummer Night's Dream. Designing and creating costumes for a fairy queen and her attendants was far more interesting than the split seams of the brown suits from Death of a Salesman.

By the time Lucy breezed in a couple hours later, Kurt had the repairs done and the clothing neatly pressed and on hangers, ready to go. He was draping a sheer white fabric around a dress form, playing with pinning it here and there to see how it hung and flowed around the form.

“Oooooo, I like that. Are you thinking of this for Titiana?” Lucy fingered the edge of the fabric, feeling its weight. Her dark, intelligent eyes swept over the dress form, and Kurt could tell she was picturing the finished costume in her mind.

Kurt nodded, smiling at his mentor. Lucy was a character, and he loved working with her. She was barely 5'2, with long, dark messy hair that she pinned up haphazardly into a loose topknot usually. Today, it was sporting a bunch of shiny colorful butterfly pins, randomly scattered in the dark curls. She was in her early 50's, yet she could still pull this look off.

Pulling the fabric off to the side, Kurt let it fall. “I like it, but I think it's a little too stiff. I think I want something more flowing, something to follow her movements more.”

Tilting her head to the side, Lucy pulled off her deep purple velvet blazer and threw it onto her chair. “You are right. How about we head over to the fabric store after lunch? We'll find something better and I still need to find something properly regal for the Duke's vest.”

Kurt nodded, looking over Lucy's ensemble with fond eyes. She was wearing a teal dress that had multiple layers of chiffon in the floaty skirt, with a fitted bodice and cap sleeves. She had paired this with grey tights and black combat boots. It was a crazy outfit, but somehow so Lucy. It worked for her, and she wore fashions like this all the time, bravely. He loved her for it.

Looking down at his own clothes, Kurt sighed. In baggy black jeans and an oversized dark grey sweater, Kurt's body was effectively hidden with the layers. But it was so boring.

Shaking himself out of those depressing thoughts, Kurt agreed with Lucy's plan for the fabric store trip and unpinned the fabric from the dress form. Hmmmm… Maybe it would work for Hippolyta's wedding outfit. He doubled up the fabric, pinning it into large stiff ruffles around the neckline, liking the bold, regal look of it.

****

“So, what are you doing this weekend, Kurt?”

Kurt almost stumbled on the treadmill at the sound of Blaine's voice, so nearby.

“Um, nothing much. Working on Saturday, of course.” He shrugged. Usually, on the weekends, he'd sleep in, watch movies, and flip through a magazine or two. Catch up on the housework and get groceries. The theatre was closed Mondays, so he went over to Rachel's long-standing potluck dinner usually.

Blaine walked in front of the treadmill, facing Kurt straight on. “Great!” He smiled, and looked so gorgeous Kurt's breath caught. “I was thinking we could get out of this old sweat dungeon for your next session. On Sundays, there is an outdoor yoga class we could check out, and then we can do some cardio around the park afterwards.”

“Um…. Park?” Kurt was finding it hard to make a complete sentence around Blaine today. Those big hazel-green eyes were just so amazing, framed with such thick, dark eyelashes. Kurt blushed, imagining he was giving Blaine adoring looks a little too often, like a twelve-year-old girl with a crush on her math teacher.

Passing Kurt a towel, Blaine nodded. “Yup, Central Park, the Sheep Meadow. Would 10 am be OK for you?”

Swallowing, Kurt nodded. “Ah, yeah, I guess so. Do I need to bring anything for this?”

Blaine laughed. “You look like I'm going to send you to the guillotine, Kurt. It's just a yoga class, for all levels. You'll be fine. Just wear comfortable clothes, and bring a towel and water bottle. I'll bring an extra yoga mat for you to use.”

Kurt nodded. He'd signed up with a personal trainer last month to get out of his old rut. No sense complaining when the trainer tried to get him to do something new. He'd done OK with everything Blaine had thrown at him so far, and trusted Blaine to know his ability level. “OK, see you then.”

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-Disclaimer: I own nothing.

- I was very inspired by the silly picture I found of Chris Colfer in the Venice Beach t-shirt, doing the bicep pose with that great expression & his hair a mess. Such a cutie!

-Midsummer Nights Dream: Wikipedia: "...a comedy written by William Shakespeare in 1595/96. It portrays the events surrounding the marriage of Theseus, the Duke of Athens, to Hippolyta, the former queen of the Amazons. These include the adventures of four young Athenian lovers and a group of six amateur actors (the mechanicals) who are controlled and manipulated by the fairies who inhabit the forest in which most of the play is set. The play is one of Shakespeares most popular works for the stage and is widely performed across the world." A trailer for Julie Taymors stage production of it is here.