Blaine blinked awake at the sound of Rachel doing vocal warm-ups several hours later. He had a moment of not being sure where he was and rubbed at his eyes.

"Rachel, please, stop!" Kurt whined from behind him in their bedroom.

Blaine sat up. Kurt. He shoved off the blanket and went back into the bedroom.

"Sorry Kurt," Rachel was yelling back from the kitchen. "I wasn't thinking, but I've got a shift at the diner and you know Rupert expects me to be able to burst into song, I can't take a chance on wrecking my voice with my opening night coming up."

As Blaine opened the privacy curtain, he saw Kurt lifting his pillow over his head and holding it over his ear.

"Still sick?" Blaine asked gently. "What can I do?"

"Make her shut up." Kurt whimpered, from under his pillow without turning around.

Blaine went back into the kitchen. "I think he's still feeling pretty bad," he whispered. "We should probably keep it down."

Rachel rolled her eyes, grabbing her purse. "I'd stand clear," she warned. "He's a jerk when he's sick."

Blaine smiled confidently. "I can handle it."

Rachel shrugged. "I'll be at the diner. Text me if you need anything."

Blaine watched her leave and then set about preparing breakfast for Kurt. He figured he should steer away from anything too spicy, so he made some plain scrambled eggs and oatmeal. For a beverage, he made some hot tea. Later I'll make him some chicken noodle soup, like my mom always used to make when I was sick. He'll be better in no time. He hummed to himself, happy to have a job to do.

Just as he was pouring the tea into a mug to place in the breakfast tray, Kurt appeared in the kitchen. He was slumped a bit, and wisps of his hair were astray.

"Hey," Blaine smiled, "I was just making you—"

"Yeah, I heard," Kurt gruffed.

Blaine's eyes widened. "Was I too noisy?"

Kurt shook his head. "You and all of Bushwick. First I'm putting up with you making all this noise with pots and pans and then the traffic just wouldn't shut up."

"I'm sorry Kurt I was just—"

"Whatever, I feel like hell," Kurt dismissed, brushing past Blaine to the bathroom.

Blaine shrunk into himself, watching Kurt close the door behind him. He really hadn't thought he'd made that much noise. He busied himself, setting the last of Kurt's breakfast on the tray.

After a minute, he got a little worried and knocked on the door.

"Kurt?"

"…yes?"

"I was just… are you okay?"

"Yes. God." Kurt said, sounding irritated.

Blaine sighed, hearing the sound of the water running. "J-just wanted to be sure… You need more towels?"

The door opened suddenly. "I'm fine," Kurt said curtly.

Blaine pursed his lips. "I was just asking because—"

"I know," Kurt stopped him, putting his hand up. "But that does remind me," he said bitterly. He crossed the loft and grabbed the laundry basket.

"What are you doing?" Blaine asked.

"What does it look like? Taking this downstairs."

"Kurt, you're sick, I can take the laundry—"

"The towels in here are soaked in my bodily fluids, Blaine," Kurt spat. "Forgive me if I'd rather do it myself."

"Everyone gets sick, Kurt. Let me—"

"I'm a grown up and I can take care of it myself."

"I wasn't saying you weren't—"

"Well then stop babying me." Kurt went through a drawer and grabbed a roll of quarters.

"No one's babying you," Blaine replied, getting exasperated. He put his hand on the laundry basket. "All I'm trying to—"

Kurt pulled the laundry basket back towards his chest. "I said I can—" Kurt stopped short, sort of bending into himself for a moment.

"…Are… are you…" Blaine quietly ventured.

Kurt put a hand up, then dropped the laundry basket, and rushed back towards the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet.

Blaine grimaced as he heard Kurt throwing up. It was hard to listen to. He went to the counter and poured a glass of water and then lingered by the bathroom door. Kurt was on his knees, vomit that hadn't quite met its target still on his hand. Sweat dripped from his forehead. He looked small and embarrassed, not looking at Blaine.

"Drink this," Blaine offered, walking on pins and needles the few steps to place the cup of water next to his fiancé.

"…thank you," Kurt finally replied.

Blaine put a hand on Kurt's back. "I wish I could make you feel better. I made scrambled eggs, maybe—"

"Oh my God don't talk about food—" Kurt blurted, before another rush of vomit poured suddenly from him and he pulled away to get it into the toilet.

Blaine grimaced. There was a long pause. "Guess we're not going to abs class today," he said lightly, trying feebly to make a joke? of some sort.

Kurt sipped the water by his side before wiping his sleeve against his mouth, and steadying himself up to standing. "Heh. No." he said, mustering his strength. He put the cup down on the sink counter, grimacing at his reflection in the mirror. He then ran the water over his hands, washing them and then his face. "Well I'm not," he said thoughtfully. "You should still go."

"I'm not leaving you like this," Blaine objected.

"It's food poisoning, Blaine, it's not like I'm dying." Kurt muttered, rolling his eyes.

"Don't talk like that."

"I'm probably going to sleep half the day, eat crackers for dinner, be back in bed and fine by tomorrow."

"You're so stubborn sometimes," Blaine said ruefully.

"You made a commitment to that class and I'm not going to let you get out of it." Kurt replied evenly, pushing past his fiancé with the water.

Blaine was sort of offended. "I'm not trying to get out of going to class! You're sick! I just want to take care of you."

"Nothing in our agreement about that class said you get to miss it to sit here and watch me sleep." Kurt pronounced, unbuttoning his soiled pajama shirt and tossing it into the laundry basket.

"I can't believe you're pushing this, now."

"Seems to me you asked me to push these things," Kurt dismissed, heading back to the bedroom.

Blaine groaned, following him. "You're ridiculous. Everyone gets sick, you don't have to be embarrassed. It could just as easily have been me. It's just luck I didn't have the beef lo mein!"

Kurt ignored that as he dug a t-shirt out of a drawer and haphazardly put it on. He sat on the bed and then looked back up at Blaine evenly. "You're going to your class. That's an order."

Blaine pursed his lips, but relented. "…yes, sir."

Kurt nodded and got back under his covers.

Blaine sighed and set about changing into his workout clothes. "I'll be back by 11, 11:30 if the trains are delayed again. …You want me to bring you anything?" he asked at last.

Kurt sighed and turned over in bed to look at Blaine. "It's… not like you're going to be wanting to ravage me later like this," Kurt said, bitterly gesturing towards himself.

Blaine smiled and sat down on the bed next to Kurt. "You know I always want to do that."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Heh. Well, as comforting as it is to know you have such low standards, I'm thinking it's unlikely I'll be in the mood for all that later."

"I know. It's okay."

"You might as well go back to Sam and Mercedes, honestly."

Blaine blinked. "… What?"
"You're going to go all the way to the NYADA gym, you might as well get off at their stop, it's closer."

"But it's the weekend."

"You'll be happier sleeping in your own bed than ending up on the couch again if I'm still sick."

"N-no, I won't."

"Blaine—"

"I won't!"

Kurt sighed. "You're being childish. I just need to sleep this off, and you know I'm just going to be crabby anyway. I'll bite your head off, you'll be oversensitive and we'll have a big fight over nothing—it's not worth it."

"You're throwing me out."

Kurt groaned. "This is what I'm talking about. Don't be so dramatic."

"I don't care if we're not having sex today, it's about spending time together."

"You know I'm right. You're not getting any quality time with me while I'm like this, so what's the point?"

"Well that's because you won't let anyone take care of you," Blaine responded resentfully. "What are we supposed to do when we're married? Are we going to need to budget for an extra apartment in case you catch a cold or something."

Kurt rubbed at his forehead. "I don't know! Blaine, I'm just- I'm trying to be nice here."

"Yeah, nice. All I did was make you breakfast and try to make you feel better. I thought that was nice. I thought that's what someone in a relationship does for someone else, but if you don't appreciate it, fine." Blaine opened the privacy curtain and stormed over to the kitchen to get his water bottle. He took his coat off the coat rack and slipped into some shoes. He noted that Kurt didn't argue back or follow.

"Not for nothing," Blaine called across the loft, "but we both know you'd never put up with me talking to you like you've been talking to me all morning." And with that, he left, sliding the door behind him.