I'm a terrible person and should've written and posted this long ago. But it's here now!

Prompted by It'sNotUnusual: Chinese.

So I may have got time differences wrong in this but just go with it, 'kay? The sport in here was on at 7pm onwards in the UK and I'm just guessing at what vague time it was in Ohio...

Kurt huffs, turns the TV off with an angry click of the remote then turns it back on again a second later when he realizes he can't watch the rest of the competition if it's off. Blaine snorts beside him and continues to draw idle patterns over Kurt's shoulder.

"Kurt, you don't even like sport. Why does the Olympics get you so riled up?"

"I do like sport," Kurt says indignantly, not looking away from the screen like it makes his point more valid.

"You played football for what, a week or something? And you were a cheerleader a little longer. You hate getting sweaty."

"Well," Kurt starts, a smirk pulling up the corner of his mouth and fair enough Blaine thinks, because Kurt doesn't mind sweat if it's Blaine's and they're both naked. "But anyway, I like the Olympics. It's… more interesting."

Blaine glances up at the screen, sees the American swim-relay team walking out, looks back at Kurt watching them avidly and hums low in his throat. "Interesting is one word for it."

"Shut up," Kurt mumbles, the high points of his cheekbones turning red. "They're good athletes."

Blaine believes him somewhat because they are good athletes, but he knew there was an ulterior motive to Kurt waking him up at god knows what hour of the morning to watch the final. He won't complain though (even if he did grumble a bit as he was dragged from the bed earlier) because Kurt made him hot chocolate with extra marshmallows and the men on screen are nice to look at. Wonderful even, Blaine decides when Ryan Lochte starts to stretch out.

"And I get riled up," Kurt starts to go on, "because the Chinese are ridiculous."

Blaine yawns and says, "How so?" snuggling down into the couch and slipping his hand to Kurt's hip and under his shirt to touch warm skin.

"They want to be all dominant," Kurt scoffs, rolling his eyes. "They're good at everything they compete in and are always close to the USA in medal count, but they take it too far wanting to win everything."

The camera slips on screen and Blaine raises an interested eyebrow at the impromptu view of a swimmer's crotch. "It's the taking part that counts," he says, though he's lost track of what Kurt was saying because jesus, that's a nice package.

"They're not kids at sports day, Blaine, but yes, they shouldn't be so," Kurt pauses, tilts his head just a little against Blaine's shoulder as Michael Phelps takes a last stretch, and then licks his lips before finishing, "greedy."

"Yeah it's not right," Blaine says, completely unwittingly as his arm comes tighter around Kurt and his hand is splayed across Kurt's stomach so Kurt's shirt is rucked up quite a way.

"Mmm," Kurt hums, biting his lip, and Blaine doesn't know if he's replying, if he's too fixated on the men on screen or if he's approving of Blaine's hand placement, maybe asking for more. Blaine won't give him more because it's getting on the time Burt and Carole get up and they'll be sleepy as they pass, but not so much that they won't notice a shirtless, breathless Kurt.

Blaine jolts when Kurt jumps in his arms as the swimmers start and the crowd roars to life and they both giggle and hide their faces, Blaine's in Kurt's hair and Kurt's in Blaine's chest.

"The Chinese have nothing on our guys though, right?" Kurt says a while later, halfway through the race, watching the lead of the American's getting ever bigger.

Blaine thinks he means in sporting terms, but he might mean in other ways too and Blaine shamelessly stares at Ryan Lochte's crotch as he sets up to take the next length and says, "Definitely not," wondering if maybe there is enough time to mess around before Burt and Carole wake up. After all, no-one has anything on Kurt.

I'll try to update more often. I really am sorry.