Warning! This one is kinda gross. There's puke, folks. It's a thing.
(By the way I haven't watched the new episode yet so that's why this drabble is completely not connected to anything occurring canonly.)
(Also let me just say how much I've been waiting to have a fic to title this. It's a song by Broken Social Scene, it was on Queer as Folk once- probably during a sex scene- and I LOVE IT. But it never fit any of my fics! So now at least the title does, sort of. I hope this fic is worthy of its title!)
Lover's Spit
Kurt stands up and the feeling of bile rising up his throat hits him immediately.
"Oh, no," he whines and bolts to the bathroom, quickly falling onto his knees, dizzy from moving too fast as he pukes what's probably an important part of his guts into the toilet.
Kurt wipes his mouth with a piece of toilet paper, groaning at the horrible, acidic flavor in his mouth.
He will not lay his head down on the toilet seat, he tells himself. That's gross and unhygienic. He will not have his cheek touch the goddamn toilet seat…
But it's cold and comforting against his heated skin, and that's how Blaine finds him moments later, in his pajamas on the floor with his head resting on the toilet seat.
"Well, you look like crap."
Kurt groans. "Shut up."
"Honesty, babe. Tea?" Blaine asks, rubbing his eyes sleepily.
"Please," Kurt says and reaches towards him. Blaine quickly pulls him up and hugs him to keep his steady. He flushes the toilet and leads Kurt back to the bedroom before going to make him tea.
Sometimes, he muses as the tea brews, this is love in its purest form: finding your weakened husband on a Saturday morning on the bathroom floor, carrying him back to bed and making him tea. Thinking the scent of illness and vomit lingering around him is absolutely horrendous, and still kissing his burning forehead.
Maybe that's the sign their love exists beyond simply their bodies, that it can take all that human nonsense and still glow, strong as ever; maybe Blaine's just being sappy on a quiet Saturday morning.
Either way, he throws the teabag away, and goes to take care of Kurt like a faithful housewife. At the very least, he's never minded being that.