“Hmm.” The conflicted noise passes through Kurt's lips as he stares longingly over Blaine's head towards the kitchen.

“What is it?” Blaine asks, not moving from his position, wound comfortably around his fiancé's body, legs twined perfectly together, arms situated just so, his left finding a gap between Kurt and the mattress, allowing him to hug Kurt's torso without his arm falling asleep.

“I really want some coffee,” Kurt says with a woeful sigh, “but I don't want to get out of this bed. Mmm” – He murmurs into the curls cradling his cheek – “Too comfy.”

“I really wish I could get you some coffee, baby,” Blaine says, peeking out from underneath Kurt's chin, “but I'm comfy, too.”

“You know, maybe we should keep a coffee machine in here,” Kurt remarks, “for just these situations. Besides, we drink most of our coffee in bed anyway.”

“That's…actually a really good idea,” Blaine says. “We should totally do that.”

“Yeah,” Kurt agrees with another long sigh, “but that doesn't help me at the moment.”

“No, it doesn't.” Blaine pauses to think. “Do you need coffee right now?”

“No,” Kurt admits, “I don't. I just really, really, really, really want some.”

“Well, will any place that we know deliver just a cup of coffee?” Blaine asks.

“I think so,” Kurt muses, “but then we'll have to open the door for the delivery guy when he gets here, and if I'm getting out of bed, I might as well go make coffee, which I'm not doing because I don't want to get out of bed.”

“Hmm. That is a conundrum,” Blaine comments.

Both men lay quietly, deep in thought, trying to find a solution to their current coffee dilemma.

“I know. I'll call Rachel,” Kurt decides. “She gets off shift in about half an hour. She can bring us coffee from the diner when she leaves, and we won't have to get out of bed to let her in.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Blaine says, giving his brilliant fiancé a kiss on the chin. “We'll call Rachel and ask her to bring us some coffee.”

“Yup. I'll just do that.” Kurt turns to look over his shoulder at his phone, sitting on the table by the bedside, several feet from where he's lying. He sighs.

“That sounded heavy. What is it?” Blaine asks, snuggling underneath Kurt's chin, satisfied that their problems are solved.

“I wish I had my phone.”