With Kurt's new promotion, comes a brand new feature article that he gets to write. But it also comes with some interesting requirements, courtesy of his boss, Isabelle Wright.
Notes: This series actually starts with the story 'A First Look to Remember', which is around here somewhere xD, but this one pretty much explains what this series is about. Basically, Kurt got a promotion, and every month he writes an article, occasionally based on things Isabelle decides to torture him with xD Inspired by this article - sex/a20510107/sex-after-a-workout-benefits/
It's a struggle to get through the door of their apartment with the two of them locked together at the lips since they got off the elevator. But the moment Kurt saw that the hallway leading to their place was vacant, he leapt on his husband like a serval in heat, clawing at Blaine's shirt and assaulting his mouth with a mixture of lust and disgust. Blaine doesn't mind the distressed whimpers and the gasping for air that follows Kurt's attempts to kiss Blaine while not breathing through his nose. He finds it kind of funny, the sacrifices his poor husband has to make for his job.
Of all the directions Kurt saw his career at Vogue going, he could have never foreseen this one.
Kurt recently earned a promotion, one that helped fund their move from the quaint (but ultimately unsafe) Bushwick loft they had been so fond of to an Upper East Side apartment. Instead of just being Isabelle Wright's assistant, Kurt got his own feature online and in every magazine. He describes it as a cross between Queer Eye and The View, with a dash of Fashion Police thrown in, which gives Kurt an opportunity to showcase his impeccable style, but also let his catty flag soar. For the most part, he comes up with his own topic ideas, but every so often Isabelle will read an article on the Women's Health website or watch a BuzzFeed video that makes a lightbulb go off in her head. She'll inbox Kurt and boom. That's his topic for the month.
Every time he texts Blaine one of Isabelle's ideas, along with the tagline, "Sorry, honey, but it's for work," Blaine knows that he's in for one interesting night.
Today's assignment – post-workout sex is the best sex ever!
The second Blaine read that, he knew this was going to be challenging, to say the least.
Kurt doesn't particular like to be intimate when they're sweaty. He's gotten better the past few years about handling his germaphobia (traveling the New York subway system twice daily will do that for you), but getting sweaty while intimate is something he tries to avoid. And when it does happen, he strips the sheets off the bed and hops straight into the shower.
"Do you know how much bacteria there is in sweat?" he once scolded Blaine when Blaine suggested that they leave it till morning. "We'll both be covered in bacne by the time we wake up, and that's not something I want to deal with!"
But for this assignment, Kurt went all out, which is to say he booked two hours with a personal trainer willing to take on both of them at one of the toughest, hardcore gyms in New York – Dogpound - and run them through the paces of a professional boxer/MMA fighter/figure skater/pro tennis player. Their trainer had them doing squats galore, swinging kettlebells, flipping tractor tires, and whipping ropes with few to no breaks in between. He even had them throw on gloves and spar one another in the boxing ring.
Kurt and Blaine haven't had a good history going head to head, but now that they're in a better place in their relationship, this time, it was hot as fuck!
When they were finished, they were both sweaty, sore … and ready to go.
They would have made a scene, climbing all over one another in the subway car home, if it wasn't packed like a sardine can. But even that – having to wait, the anticipation, staring at one another within the confines of the crowd, knowing what was to come – was an incredible turn on.
But now that the moment has arrived, Blaine can tell some of Kurt's enthusiasm has worn off, especially as they begin to undress, the sweat from their clothes literally flying off their bodies, the summer night having kept them uncomfortably moist on the trip home.
"Now, are you sure about this?" Blaine asks as he peels Kurt's soaking wet tee up his torso.
"Yes …" Kurt replies unconvincingly, but follows up with, "God! If I had a dollar for every time you've asked me that before sex, I'd be a Kardashian!"
"I'm just saying we can ease into this. We don't have to go this hard the first time."
"So what do you suggest?" Kurt slips his thumbs into Blaine's waistband, shuddering from the stickiness underneath.
"Maybe a jog?" Blaine says, removing his husband's shirt the rest of the way with a little more finesse. "A nice, easy jog around the block. That should get our hearts pumping, don't you think?"
Kurt considers it while Blaine pulls down his running shorts, dropping small pecks along Kurt's hips as he does his best to seduce him. And Kurt tries to let him, tries to get lost in the tantalizing sensation of those teasing kisses as the travel towards his crotch, recalling the words of the articles he read while doing his "research".
Point one: after a workout – especially an intense workout like the one they just had – their hormones are going haywire.
That he believes. Watching Blaine punch a bag for the first time since high school – his muscles bulging, shoulders tensing, brow furrowed in concentration – made Kurt so damned hard that taking his turn on the rowing machine was torture!
Which was point number two. Exercise increases blood flow, even south of the equator.
After watching Blaine give his all flipping tires down the street, watching other men and women at the gym eye him covetously knowing that they got to look but Kurt got to touch, so much of Kurt's blood had migrated south, his head began to spin.
But point three – that's the point he's stuck on.
The point where the scent coming off their bodies might increase sexual attraction.
Blaine always smells good, even when he sweats, but that's, in part, due to the maximum strength deodorant and the body spray he wears. But the articles Kurt read went deeper into the science behind smell as it pertained to exercise.
When you sweat, they said, your body is releasing bacteria that's breaking down the sweat molecules.
…
Yuck.
And at the current time, Blaine is heading recklessly for the one spot on Kurt's body that had been hidden not only by his workout clothes, but his underwear. Underwear he'd been wearing all … day … long. A dark, warm, humid place, like a petri dish, where yeasts and germs may be lurking, waiting for their chance to blossom because Kurt waited a half-an-hour too long to take a shower.
When Blaine finally reaches it - buries his nose over Kurt's cock and breathes in deep, starting to take him in his mouth – Kurt recoils, so grossed out by the thought of Blaine's face in that bedlam of microorganisms that he not only leaps back, but shoves his poor husband hard enough to send him sprawling on his back.
"Kurt!"
Blaine stares up at Kurt in shock, eyes dancing with a laugh he's just barely holding back as Kurt wails, "I … I can't! We're just so sweaty!"
"I know, I know. That's okay." Blaine rolls to his knees and rises to his feet. "At least you tried."
"But tried isn't good enough! I have to do! I have to do, and I have to write about it for next month's issue! Or else … or else …"
Or else … nothing really, he realizes. If he tells Isabelle he failed to pull this off, she'd laugh like crazy, but let him pick his own topic to replace this one. No harm, no foul. It's the principle of the thing. Kurt doesn't like to admit defeat.
And admitting defeat over kinky, filthy sex with his husband – that's plain embarrassing.
"You have the week," Blaine reminds him, laying a comforting hand on his husband's shoulder. Well, not really. He makes the gesture, letting his hand hover above – a show of support without triggering Kurt with any further sweaty contact. "We'll get another chance." Blaine bites his lower lip, grinning while a thought of how they can solve his husband's dilemma pops into his head. "Besides, there still might be a way we can swing post-workout sex without all the sweat."
Kurt arches an eyebrow. He would cross his arms, but he doesn't even want to touch himself. "How?"
"If we do it in the shower."
"You're brilliant!" Kurt grins, his eyes alight with the possibilities. He leans in to kiss Blaine's cheek, but stops short when he sees a bead of sweat coagulated in the spot. He blows him that one, silently promising to make up for it in five minutes. "And that's why I married you."