"That's it. I'm going to his flat," Kurt announced, pocketing his phone with a determined look. Rachel looked sad and sympathetic. Santana rolled her eyes exasperatedly and got up, brushing down her ultra-short skirt to get herself ready for a tirade.

"Seriously?" she started. "For real? Your boyfriend doesn't call you for three days and you go by his place to check on him? Paranoid much?"

"Blaine cheated on me after two weeks," Kurt replied.

"My boyfriend was secretly a prostitute," Rachel added in defence of Kurt.

"The last guy I kissed tied me up and stole our stuff," Kurt reminded Santana.

"Okay, okay, okay," Santana said, holding up her hands to quiet her roommates. "I get it. You don't trust guys anymore. And as a lesbian, I'd be the first to confirm that relationships with guys never work out. But we're talking about Adam here. Adam! You remember him, British, bakes cookies, wears weird wobbly hats his mom in England knits for him, calls yousweetheart and darling a lot?" Santana dropped the r's in a rather uncanny imitation of Adam's accent. "He would not cheat on you. He adores you. He even thinks your crazy cat-lady brooches are great, god knows why."

"Those are vintage," Kurt replied sharply, narrowing his eyes at her. Then he sighed, and shrugged helplessly. ´"I know, it seems a little…paranoid, I guess. But it's so unlike him not to call. I'm just afraid something happened."

"Like what?" Santana asked, crossing her arms over her chest. "I mean, I have totally used it as an excuse, but I happen to know you can't really trip and land on someone's dick."

Kurt shook his head. "No, I'm not saying he'd cheat on me after three days…but what if he met someone? Or ran into someone he used to know? And now he's at home thinking about how to break up with me, and he doesn't know how to break the news to me, and-"

"And you'd thought you'd go and play the creepily controlling, distrustful boyfriend so he has a good reason?" Santana supplied helpfully.

"No!" Kurt replied, his frustration growing. He didn't want that at all. He remembered how terrible it felt when Blaine had gone through his phone messages, and that was honestly the last thing he wanted to do to Adam. He did want to trust him. It was just…a little scary letting go. The walls around his heart, already steeled through high school, had only been fortified since he came to New York. "I just want to make sure he's okay," he finally said.

"Say hi to him from us," Rachel said quietly. "He's probably just busy."

Kurt nodded and quickly made his exit before Santana could come up with something else to say. She had a real knack for pressing where it hurt- preferably with a sharpened fingernail. The truth was, he had heard from Adam, but it was such a short, unusual exchange of text that he hadn't told the girls.

Kurt: hey, wanna come over?

Adam: sorry, I can't. Kind of stuck here. Raincheck?

Kurt: Shall I come over then? I could bring cheesecake from that place down the corner? :)

Adam: I really can't. I'm sorry.

No explanation. Two sorry's. And no reaction to the cheesecake-offer. Kurt had sent a few more texts, but had gotten no more replies. Then he had called, but no one had answered. Whatever Adam was doing, he wasn't checking his phone. And once Kurt started worrying, he couldn't let it go. The drive to his boyfriend's flat felt like the longest subway ride ever.

Kurt rang the bell and waited, his hand at the electric doorknob.

"Yes?" Adam's voice sounded groggy, but at least he was home.

Kurt closed his eyes tightly. "Adam? Adam, can I come up? It's me, Kurt." He let go of the talk-button and waited. The receiver was quiet. Then it crackled into life again.

"Kurt. I can't… I'm sorry. I think it's better if you go home. Can I please call you in a few days?"

Kurt felt slightly sick. Did he have another guy in there or something? He pressed the talk-button again, holding it down as if he was capable of holding onto Adam like that. "What's going on? Did I do something wrong?"

"No, darling- I just…trust me, you don't want to see me right now."

Trust me. There it was again. Could he trust Adam? Kurt's mouth hardened to a fine line. Maybe he was a creepily controlling boyfriend, but he had to know. "Why don't you let me be the judge of what I want to see?" he demanded. Whatever it was- a secret boy- (or girl) friend, an apartment full of stolen goods, stacks of money from unsavoury night jobs…it was best if Kurt found out now.

It was quiet for a moment, and then the door buzzed. Kurt took a deep breath, straightened his back, and pushed it open.

The door to Adam's place was open. Kurt had been there a few times before; it was a little cramped but cosy, with second-hand furniture, a lot of books and framed theatre bills lining the walls, and a small kitchen with fresh herbs (Kurt kind of liked the way Adam pronounced the h-) on the windowsill. Now, the place was a mess. There were used paper handkerchiefs everywhere and the coffee table was piled with containers of delivery service food. Kurt looked around and finally found Adam in a pile of blankets on the couch. He was pale and sweaty, and his face was blotchy and red, the skin around his nose raw and sore-looking. Kurt's shoulders slumped with relief. "That's it? You're sick?" he asked. He couldn't keep the disbelief from his voice completely.

Adam offered Kurt a lopsided smile that made Kurt think of the way Finn would look at him when he knew he had done something stupid. He gestured at his place. "I didn't want you to see all this. Or me. I am disgusting." He sneezed loudly as if to emphasize his point.

Kurt shook his head. "Honestly, if you knew what I was expecting to find here-" he started, but trailed off. It wasn't important anymore. He nodded at the table. "That stuff isn't gonna make you better," he commented.

Adam shrugged. "I didn't want to go out like this." He clutched the blankets around him a little closer.

"You could have called me. I would have come to cook you something," Kurt said.

Adam shook his head. "I didn't want you to feel like you had to. And I just… I don't know…I thought it was probably a bit too early in our relationship for the, uh…sickness part of the 'in sickness and in health' thing. It's not exactly sexy."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Are you saying you wouldn't take care of me when I would get sick?"

Adam sat up a little. "Of course I would!"

Kurt closed the door behind him.

"I'll infect you," Adam protested weakly, but Kurt ignored it. Instead, he walked up to the kitchen and opened the fridge. It was nearly empty save for some marmelade and a jar of pickles.

"Okay, I'm gonna go down to the store and get you some real food," he decided, and turned to Adam. "Now you: go to bed. And don't even think about cleaning up while I'm gone."

Adam gave him a guilty look.

"I'm serious," Kurt said sternly. "The only thing you can do, if you want, is pick which DVD we're gonna watch after dinner."

"You're gonna stay?" Adam asked.

"Of course I am. In sickness and in health, right?"