When Sebastian stumbles upon his old Dalton Academy athletic uniform, he's thrilled to find out that it still fits ...

... though when and where he should wear it are still up for discussion.

"Hey! Hey, Kurt! Look at what I found!"

Kurt puts his magazine down to look at his husband. "What is it-good heavens! Where the heck did you find that old thing?" He sizes his husband up and down, dressed in his old Dalton Academy lacrosse warm-up outfit – a grey t-shirt with the words Dalton Academy silk screened across the front in blue, and a pair of matching blue running shorts with red piping down the sides. To be completely honest, Sebastian looks hot as hell in his retro school clothes, but he's older now. He's filled out a little more …

… and it shows.

Which is why Kurt's eyes zoom straight to his shorts. They've seen better days, that's for sure – the color faded, the waistband worn, the words Dalton Academy printed above the thigh cracked from repeated washing. They do fit – technically.

But not for wearing outside of the bedroom.

"They were up in the attic in a box marked high school crap. I thought it was yours, so I went rifling through it ..."

"Of course, you did," Kurt says, rolling his eyes.

"… but, nope. It was mine. In retrospect, the word crap should have been a dead giveaway."

"Probably," Kurt mutters, returning to his magazine.

"There's a ton of junk in there that I'm planning on pitching," Sebastian continues, "except for this. This is going to be my new running outfit."

And with that, Kurt chokes on his tongue.

"Uh … Sebastian, sweetie, I know you must be proud that you can still fit into your clothes from high school, but if you wear those shorts outside, you're going to be that guy."

"And which guy is that? The handsome guy?" Sebastian strikes a pose with his hands on his hips, his chin and nose in the air. "The uber-fit guy?" He turns to his husband, raises both arms, and flexes. "The guy so dedicated to his workout regimen he can still wear clothes from over a decade ago?" He lifts the hem of his shirt to show off his six-pack, which gives Kurt a better view of his front. Kurt snorts.

How Sebastian plans to go jogging commando without rubbing his junk raw, Kurt has no idea.

"No. You're going to be that guy," Kurt says. "As in 'Kids, see that guy over there? That's the kind of guy mommy's been warning you about. Stay away from him'."

"You're being overdramatic." Sebastian shifts his weight from one foot to the other, then subconsciously adjusts his crotch. "I'm planning on giving them a trial run at the park this afternoon."

"What!?"

"I'll have Thomas and Hepburn with me. No one will think I'm some sick-o."

"On the contrary. They'll probably think you used your dog to lure your first victim into the woods and call the cops on you."

"We're going to the park down by his school. Everyone we know is going to be there."

"Oh, God." Kurt drops his head back and hides his face with his magazine. "That's going to make it worse! We'll never be able to show our faces again! Don't do it, Sebastian! He loves his school so much! It's going to cost so much money …"

"Money?" Sebastian crosses his arms indignantly over his chest, pulling the front of the shirt so tight, the words Dalton Academy start to spread. "For what?"

"To change our identities and move to a different state."

"Now you're being ridiculous … and mean." Sebastian pouts, so unlike him it actually tugs at Kurt's heart.

"Oh, honey …" Kurt puts his magazine down and stands, looping his arms around his husband's shoulders. "Let's put it this way – you know how you told me that running through the park sometimes turns you on because it reminds you of that time you and I …?"

Kurt doesn't finish, but he doesn't have to. Sebastian starts grinning like an idiot, even with the ending omitted. "Yeah, I remember."

"I want you to take a moment to think about that afternoon. Picture it in your head as clearly as you can … in detail."

"Okay …" Sebastian looks up to the ceiling and visualizes. The afternoon had started out warm and sunny, but it had gotten overcast the second they spread their blanket. But Kurt and Sebastian were stubborn. That picnic was one of their first outings as official newlyweds, and they were going to be damned if a few dark clouds forced them to leave. Eventually, the grey skies turned into drizzle, and the drizzle turned into rain. While other people packed up their things and left, Kurt and Sebastian hunkered down beneath their blanket to finish their carefully crafted lunch. They sat practically on top of one another to keep warm, abandoning their canapes to the elements when they couldn't eat and shield themselves at the same time.

Closer and closer and closer they crept until they basically occupied the same space … with Kurt's head in Sebastian's lap, and Sebastian's dick in Kurt's mouth.

Sebastian grins. The more he thinks about that afternoon, the tighter his shorts get, which he manages to ignore … until he hears Kurt snicker – a total buzz kill. As soon as Sebastian's brain returns from its south-of-the-border vacay, he feels restricted, the back seam of his shorts climbing into his ass crack, the front tented as his erection fights to break free of the thin, polyester fabric. He reaches down to feel for himself, and his eyes go wide.

"Dude!" He looks down to survey the damage, but instead of being embarrassed, his grin grows full force. "Nice."

"Yes, it is nice," Kurt agrees, "but not for out in public. Agreed?"

"Agreed. But …"

"But …?" Kurt raises an intrigued brow.

"We're not in public right now … are we?" Sebastian rolls Kurt in his arms.

"No" - Kurt steps an inch to the side to avoid bending anything important - "but what about your playdate at the park with Thomas?"

"It can wait. I think this would be the perfect opportunity for a little roleplay. You could be the strict P.E. teacher, and I'll be myself – snarky but boyishly charming." He tries to entice his husband with kisses down his neck. "We can pretend we're back in the hallowed halls of Dalton Academy ..."

"You know," Kurt says, memories of their Dalton days dulling his own chances of getting an erection, "back at Dalton, you were kind of a …"

"Jerk?"

"I was going to say asshole" – Kurt averts his eyes sheepishly – "but whatever works."

Sebastian's mouth hovers over Kurt's lips, swallowing the last, bitter fragments of shame and regret, prepared to make it all up to him. "Well, then, here's your chance to exact some revenge, right? You know you want to. Whaddya say?"

Kurt looks into his husband's eyes, a few, thin lines cropping up around the edges that weren't there a decade ago, but still as devilish as they ever were. The only real difference is these eyes look at him with mischief and with love.

And Kurt loves him back.

"Sebastian Smythe," Kurt scolds in a whisper so their son won't hear, "if you don't get your butt in that bedroom and give me thirty push-ups, you'll be suspended indefinitely!"

"Yes, sir, Mr. Hummel, sir." Sebastian turns nonchalantly on his heel, the same way he did in high school, and jogs to their bedroom, and Kurt curses the fact that they stayed enemies for so long.

Sebastian does look hot in that uniform. The after lacrosse practice sex under the bleachers must have been epic.

Kurt bites his lower lip, following after his husband, his ass practically bursting from those teeny, tiny shorts.

There's only one way to find out …

… but after, he's going to jump online and do some shopping – find a similar outfit at the Dalton Academy alumni store in Sebastian's size so he's not tempted to take this one out for a spin.