“Blaine!” Kurt sings through the apartment he shares with Rachel, two mugs of coffee in hand. “I made coffee!”

He nudges the door to his bedroom open with his foot, slipping inside while carefully balancing the two mugs. Kurt pauses just inside the door, frowning at the blanket-covered lump in his bed that vaguely resembles his boyfriend. Blaine spent the night in the apartment, citing exhaustion and a desire to cuddle. He’d fallen asleep as soon his head hit the pillow, and Kurt had followed not long after, arms wrapped around Blaine’s waist and his face buried in the crook of Blaine’s neck.

They don’t get many nights like this, with Blaine constantly bouncing from study groups to rehearsals, and Kurt locked up for hours in studio. Blaine is required to live on campus his freshman year, but still spends most of his time at Kurt and Rachel’s in the Village, making the trek down from Columbia several times a week, if not a day. He has a drawer in Kurt’s bedroom and a set of toiletries in the bathroom, but he spends most of his time there studying at the tiny kitchen table or reassuring Kurt that the designs scattered across the apartment were perfect.

This is their first weekend entirely alone since Blaine moved to New York. Rachel’s gone on some theater retreat, Blaine’s midterms have just finished, and Kurt’s major project is turned in for review. Blaine isn’t supposed to be here yet, but he’d surprised Kurt the night before with flowers and take-out, and they’d spent the night curled in front of What Not to Wear, Kurt heckling the outfits and Blaine smiling sleepily up at him.

Kurt pauses briefly, smiling at his boyfriend’s still form. They have plans-lunch with Kurt’s friends from studio, then tickets to the revival of Spring Awakening that recently opened off-Broadway, and dinner with Blaine’s orchestra friends-and Kurt knows Blaine will want to get up, get ready well before they need to leave. He places the coffee cups on his nightstand, sliding onto the edge of the bed so he can lean over Blaine.

“Blaine, honey, time to get up,” Kurt calls softly, brushing his lips over the top of Blaine’s head-the only part of him sticking out of the pile of blankets. Blaine shifts, burrowing his face further into the blankets and shrinking from Kurt, who frowns. Blaine’s not usually this difficult to wake, unless he’s been drinking or chugging Red Bulls. Kurt settles his hand on what he assumes is Blaine’s shoulder, shaking him gently.

“Blaine, let’s go. We’ve got plans, remember? We’re meeting Kayla and Lulu at eleven, and-”

A muffled groan is Blaine’s response, and he clutches the blankets around himself even tighter. Kurt’s frown deepens, and he peels back the comforter, gasping when Blaine finally comes into view.

Blaine’s eyes are clenched tightly as the light washes over his face, his curls disheveled and his complexion pale. His lips are white where he’s pressing them together tightly, a faint tremor running through him. Even as Kurt watches he grabs for the comforter, pulling it back over his head and sinking down.

“Lights off,” Blaine whispers, his voice harsh and somewhat raspy. “Hurts.”

Kurt cottons on quickly, standing to flick the lights off before settling back beside Blaine.

“How bad is this one?”

“Not the worst. But not the best.”

“What have you done?”

“Laid here and tried to die quietly.”

Blaine’s statement is finished with a groan, and his hands press into his eyes. Kurt hums in sympathy, brushing his hand gently through Blaine’s curls.

“Do you want the Tylenol or the Imitrex?”

“Imitrex. It’s-”

“In the cabinet under the sink, I know, Blaine. You had a second prescription filled so we could leave it here.”

“Oh, right. Forgot you knew.”

Kurt busies himself with gathering supplies for the next few minutes, before returning to Blaine’s side with the pills and a glass of water.

“Can you sit up, or are you too nauseous?”

“I think I’ll be okay for now,” Blaine whispers, and Kurt helps him maneuver until he’s leaning in a sad representation of sitting, his upper body supported on Kurt’s torso. He takes the pills from Kurt, swallowing them with a few sips of water before pushing the glass away, sinking back into a slumped position. Kurt sets the glass aside, his free hand gently carding through Blaine’s hair as they sit for a minute.

“You should go to lunch,” Blaine whispers, his eyes closed again and his head resting on Kurt’s chest. “Don’t miss the play, either.”

“And leave you here like this, Blaine? Not happening.”

“We’ve been planning this for weeks-”

“Exactly. We’ve been planning this. I’m not going without you, Blaine.”

“But I’m going to be miserable all day. You just finished a big project. Go have fun.”

“I couldn’t have fun knowing you were here, feeling like this, Blaine. I don’t want to.”

“But-”

“That’s the end, Blaine. Close your eyes, okay? Do you want coffee? Coke? I think Rachel has a few bottles lying around.”

“I’m okay. Kurt-”

“Shhh, Blaine. Don’t worry about it, okay? Just rest. Go back to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Blaine nods, and within minutes his breathing evens and he becomes dead weight on Kurt’s chest. His face softens, the lines of pain evening out and Kurt can’t stop himself from dropping a gentle kiss to Blaine’s temple. He shifts Blaine out of his arms and settles him back on the pillows, disentangling his legs and pulling the comforter up to Blaine’s chin.

In his experience, Blaine will sleep fitfully for another half hour before waking up nauseous, so Kurt takes the opportunity to dart to the CVS on the corner for supplies. It’s been months since Blaine’s had a migraine like this while they were together (he’s had them alone, but not while with Kurt), so they’re out of caffeine that isn’t coffee and Kurt’s never had a heating pad at his apartment-Blaine keeps it in his dorm room, where he’s more likely to get these.

Kurt never knows for sure what exactly will work-sometimes Blaine’s so nauseous he can’t even keep water down, and sometimes the pain is so bad that he can only clutch at Kurt while waiting for the meds to kick in. This doesn’t seem to be either of those cases, and Kurt hopes the basic medication, caffeine, and heat combination Blaine taught him will do the trick.

He makes it back to the apartment in under twenty minutes, and is on the phone with Kayla when he hears a groan from the bedroom.

“I should go, Kay. He’s waking up again, I want to make sure he doesn’t need any-no, I promise it’s fine, you guys enjoy. No Blaine will not like it if you come over here, he already feels guilty enough for canceling. Kay, it’s fine. Go on. I’ll see you guys on Monday in Luther’s class, okay? Have fun!”

Kurt ends the call, slipping his phone into his pocket. He takes a can of Coke from the case on the table and pours it into a glass, grabbing the heating pad he’d bought in the other hand and walking back to the bedroom. Blaine’s now sitting up in bed, the heels of his hands pressed into his eyes and his breathing quick. Kurt sets the glass down and slides in next to Blaine, wrapping a gentle arm around his shoulders.

“Nauseous?”

Blaine grunts in affirmation, and Kurt reaches for the trash can he keeps near his desk, setting it next to the bed.

“Are you going to puke?”

“Not at the moment. I just-okay, need the trash can.”

Kurt rubs Blaine’s back as he retches over the can, wrinkling his nose but making no comment. After a few minutes Blaine slumps back onto his pillow and groans. Kurt sets the can aside, frowning when a single tear falls onto the pillow. Blaine rarely cries, especially not during migraines and not like this. Kurt brushes the tear away, leaving his hand along the side of Blaine’s face.

“What’s going on, Blaine? You seem really upset, is it just the head-”

“I mess everything up, Kurt. I can’t-I ruined our weekend and I feel awful and I feel sick and I just want to curl up and-”

“Hey,” Kurt whispers, sliding onto his side and pulling Blaine into his arms so that he’s pressed along Blaine’s back. “I’m not mad at you, Blaine, I promise. You can’t help that you’re sick-it happens to all of us.”

“But I’m sick of it happening to me. I’m so-I’m sorry you have to keep taking care of me, Kurt. This sucks, I know you hate puke and I’m a mess and I just-”

“Blaine, honey, if you think I’m going to be upset over something like this after four years with you, you really haven’t been paying attention. I love you. Healthy or not, it’s you that I care about.

“I don’t know why. If I were you I’d have found some hot young designer who’s brain isn’t going to betray them at any minute with-”

Kurt presses a finger to Blaine’s lips, effectively silencing him. He kisses the juncture of Blaine’s neck and shoulder, letting his lips linger on the skin as he speaks again.

“Blaine, I want you. You’ve always been it for me, don’t you know that? I like taking care of you, because I get to show you how much you mean to me. I would never leave you alone when you’re this sick, Blaine, and I like to think you’d do the same for me.”

“Of course, Kurt, why would you even-”

“Then let me take care of you, Blaine. Relax and let me do this for you, okay?”

“-okay. Kurt, I can’t-thank you. I really can’t say-”

“Shh,” Kurt whispers with another gentle kiss, before he sits up and reaches for the heating pad he’d dropped. “Now, I’m going to clean out the trash can and put away the things I bought, but do you want the heat on your neck right now or do you want to wait? Whatever feels best.”

“I’m okay for now.”

“Do you want to try a bit of Coke, or maybe some water? I can bring you some crackers if you’re up to-”

“Nothing for now. I’m still-it’s still kinda iffy. Maybe in a bit.”

“Lights off still?”

“Please.”

“Sleep. I’ll come cuddle with you in a few minutes.”

“Mmmm,” Blaine mumbles, already half-asleep by the time Kurt’s out the door. He quickly unpacks the Coke into the refrigerator, stopping in the bathroom on his way back to clean out the trash can and grab Blaine’s prescription for later. By the time he’s back in the room, Blaine’s snoring softly, much more at ease than he was earlier. Kurt assumes the medication has finally kicked in, and he takes comfort in that knowledge.

He kicks off his shoes by the door, padding softly to the bed and sliding underneath the covers behind Blaine. He wraps his arms around Blaine’s torso, hooking his chin over Blaine’s shoulder and settling in. Blaine mumbles, his body relaxing into Kurt’s arms.

They’ll sleep like this for a few hours, before Blaine wakes up again to take his meds. The pain will fade slowly away until it’s a gentle throb by seven pm, and Kurt will spend his afternoon sketching at his desk while keeping watch over Blaine, ready at any moment with whatever Blaine needs.

By Sunday morning Blaine will be mostly well, and they’ll spend the day walking in the park around the corner before a quiet lunch at home. Rachel will return late Sunday afternoon a bundle of energy, and Blaine will head back to Columbia, somewhat exhausted but no longer in pain or feeling ill by Sunday night.

But for now, Kurt is content to cuddle his boyfriend to his chest, pressing gentle kisses along his hairline and whispering into Blaine’s ear things Blaine will never hear.