Christmastime in New York City was arguably the best time of the year. For Kurt and Blaine, it was their first Christmas as a married couple, which made the holiday season all the more special for them.

They decided not to return to Ohio that year. They had just gotten married, and wanted to start their own traditions as a family. Plus, airfare was too expensive.

Their living room was complete with a skimpy, Charlie Brown Christmas tree, and stockings hung from the kitchen counter, since the loft lacked a chimney.

Christmas Eve brought a light dusting of snow to the city. Roads were fine, thankfully, since they had agreed to go hear Mercedes sing at her Christmas Eve service.

Blaine was absolutely freezing, despite just getting the heater in the apartment fixed. He layered up so much he claimed it made him look fat, even though Kurt denied that.

The truth was, Blaine hadn't felt like himself all day. He woke up feeling nauseous and just out of sorts, but thankfully Kurt hadn't noticed. He just had to get through the service, then he could sleep it off.

The church was packed to the brim, but Kurt and Blaine were lucky enough to get two seats near the back.

"How long will this be?" Blaine mumbled, yanking off his gloves and unwrapping his scarf. "It's burning up in here."

Kurt put his hand on Blaine's knee. "Oh, come on. It's the least we can do for her. You'll be fine."

Blaine could only hope.

The service started, and Blaine couldn't help but glance down at his phone to check the time every few minutes. It felt like it was lasting ages. He just wanted to be back home, with his pajamas and a cup of hot tea, not in a crowded sanctuary with a stomach that wouldn't settle.

Kurt was honestly too busy listening to Mercedes' solo to notice something was wrong with Blaine next to him. He was so amazed with his best friend's voice, so when he finally glanced over at Blaine, he just saw him quickly duck out of the room, one hand over his stomach, the other pressed against his mouth. Something was wrong with him.

Kurt went after him, as soon as he had realized what was happening. Finding the bathroom in the church was like trying to solve a maze, though, so by the time he pushed the door open and hurried inside, his husband was already doubled over in a stall, throwing up until his face was beet red.

"What happened to you?" Kurt asked, putting a hesitant hand on Blaine's shivering back. "When did this happen?"

Blaine retched and got sick again, shaking his head. "I'm fine. Really, Kurt."

Kurt pressed a cold hand up against Blaine's forehead, and his husband shivered, swatting his hand away after a mere second. "I'm fine."

He pushed open the stall door and went to the sink to splash some cold water on his face. Kurt could see how pale he was, and he certainly had a fever.

"Blaine, let's go home. You're burning up, and you won't feel any better sitting on a wooden bench for another forty-five minutes. Come on, I'll make you some tea."

Kurt prided himself on being able to coax Blaine into almost anything. Perhaps it was his skill, combined with how horrible his husband felt, that got him to consent to leaving the service early. Surely Mercedes would understand.

Blaine flopped on the couch not a minute after they walked in the door. Kurt had never seen him so drained before, not even after a rough day at work.

"No, you're not sleeping here," Kurt ordered. "In bed. With pajamas on. I'm making you tea and soup as we speak."

Blaine moaned as he stood, and lazily shuffled back to their bed, halfheartedly changing clothes and curling up in a ball on his side of the bed.

Kurt was just about to bring him some medicine and a hot cup of tea when he heard his husband choking and coughing. He rushed out of the kitchen just in time to find Blaine getting sick. He didn't even have time to make it to the bathroom.

"Oh, gosh," Kurt mumbled, panicked at first until he was able to react, and quickly grabbed the trashcan Blaine kept by his nightstand. "Here, honey. Get it all out of your system."

He rubbed Blaine's back, and could feel him shivering. His husband finally took a breath, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "I want to die," he groaned. "Just shoot me."

Kurt smiled affectionately and set the waste bin on the floor. "Go clean up. This won't last forever. I bet it's a twenty-four hour bug."

Blaine stood up, shaky at first, but Kurt grabbed his elbow and steadied him until he was well enough to walk to the bathroom.

The evening passed in a similar fashion. Kurt laid down with Blaine in bed, and the two of them watched Christmas Vacation, since it was discovered that Kurt had never seen it and Blaine, as miserable and exhausted as he was, couldn't stand to let another year pass without watching it with his husband.

It would stay peaceful, until Blaine bolted from the bed to throw up in the toilet, Kurt following closely behind with some water and a damp washcloth to try and ease his discomfort.

This went on roughly every thirty minutes until Blaine finally fell asleep at eleven. Kurt stayed up just a little longer, to make sure he was really out, until he turned off the lights on the Christmas tree and went to bed himself.

"Kurt."

He woke up to his husband poking him and whispering his name, until Kurt opened his eyes, startled, and quickly sat up. The lights of the city shining through the thin curtains illuminated Blaine's pale face beside him in the bed.

"I'm gonna, I can't-" Blaine stammered, coughing and pressing his hand over his mouth.

"Go to the bathroom," Kurt ordered, pointing his finger. "Go."

Blaine yanked the covers off himself and disappeared while Kurt checked the time on his phone. 1:42 am. Officially Christmas.

He brought his husband a glass of ginger ale, and even though he insisted that he hated the taste, Blaine slowly drained the cup, handing it back to Kurt with trembling fingers.

"You're still burning up," Kurt worried, wrapping his arms around Blaine as they huddled on the bathroom floor. "Do you want to go back to bed, or do you think you need to stay for a little longer?"

"Stay," Blaine whispered. "Stay here?"

Kurt nodded, allowing himself to close his eyes until Blaine pulled away from him to be sick again. This time, he leaned back against the cool glass of the shower door, exhaling heavily and letting his mouth fall open a little.

"It's Christmas," Kurt said to him, getting a towel to clean up his face a little. "Merry Christmas."

"Well, it hasn't treated me very well so far," Blaine argued, pulling his knees up to his chest.

Kurt patted his leg reassuringly. "It's our first Christmas married," he reminded him. "We have an ugly Christmas tree and hardly any money to buy gifts for each other and now you won't stop throwing up. I'd say things can only go up from here."

That got a smile out of Blaine. "I want to kiss you." He ran his hand over his face and yawned. "But then we'd both be in trouble. Raincheck?"

Kurt settled in next to Blaine, content to spent all night on the cold, hard bathroom floor with him, because it was Christmas and they were married and that was all that mattered right then.

"Raincheck."

Author's Notes:

Hi hi here is my Christmas chapter only six days late! I hope you liked. Also just a PSA I wrote a new oneshot that is already up so go take a look at that if you like daddies Klaine and lots of Blangst. I'm working on another oneshot currently and have a lot of prompts to fill, so if you need me tonight, I'll be sitting in front of my laptop instead of watching the ball drop. Happy New Year!