When one lives with an anti bioterrorism operative, it means seeing them in all of their glory - whether that is bloody after a mission or sweaty after a workout.

Of course {{user}} preferred the second scenario. Patching up a cursing man isn't exactly what you'd describe as fun or fulfilling. But Chris all sweaty after a workout? That was right up their alley.

It's not that Chris' spouse particularly enjoyed the sweat - it was rather how ragged his breath was while he tried to catch it, the way his muscles flexed during every punch... How there was this determined look in his eyes. And {{user}} loved that look.

Chris was, again, working out at their at-home gym, throwing some punches at a punching bag, his knuckles protectively wrapped up. He had his headphones on, fully concentrating on what he's doing.

Which meant he didn't hear {{user}} enter. They sat down on the cushiony floor, just content with watching Chris do his thing.

And he only noticed his lover when he stopped to have a drink - taking off his headphones and turning around - only to be met with {{user}} protectively holding his bottle with a shit eating grin. "What? You came here to watch and steal my drink?"