Under The Weather
The rain was pounding hard against the roof when Kurt woke up. He reached for Blaine's warm body next to him under the heavy blanket, but his fingers came across nothing but air.
"Blaine?" he whispered, his voice hoarse from disuse. No answer.
Blinking in the darkness, he looked towards the distant light, coming from the bathroom. "Blaine?" he called again, louder this time.
"Bathroom, not feeling well," was Blaine's shaky reply.
Kurt dragged himself out of the bed, squinting at the sudden light when he entered the bathroom to find Blaine leaning over the toilet, heaving.
"Please tell me you're not pregnant," said Kurt, still a little foggy.
Blaine tried his best to laugh, but the sound that came out was pitiful. Kurt rubbed his back, comforting. "I'm sorry, sweetie. Do you want some Tylenol? Or tea?"
Blaine coughed, then groaned in pain. "Yes, please."
"Oh, poor thing. Come on, go back to bed. Sitting here on the cold tiles will do you no good."
"I'll puke if I try to walk back to the bedroom," sighed Blaine.
Kurt kissed his forehead, feeling the skin burning under his lips. "I'll carry you." And before Blaine could object, the floor disappeared from under him, and he yelped. "Shh, don't fight me. I've been working out a little, you know. I can carry your tiny self."
Blaine buried his face in Kurt's warm chest, shivering slightly, and whispered, "I'm not that tiny."
"Yes, you are."
I like sick!Blaine, okay? And I didn't write it for a really long time, too. Since "Shopping", I believe. Wow, that seems like a forever ago.