A loud crash followed by a string of whispered expletives, served as Blaine's wake up call.

"Kurt?" He hauled himself out of bed and grabbed his robe, tying it shut as he entered the kitchen where Kurt bent scooping batter from the floor with a paper towel.

"Here, let me." He took the roll of towels and pulled the trash barrel closer to the mess. "What are you doing?"

"I would have cleaned it up." Kurt was surly.

Blaine took a deep breath, in through the nose, out through the mouth. "Honey, you're supposed to be resting."

Grabbing the now whistling teapot from the stove with his good hand Kurt huffed, "It's a broken arm Blaine, I don't have consumption." He poured two cups of tea and softened as he watched his soon to be husband, hair askew, two day stubble evident, tired eyes and all on his hands and knees cleaning the mess he'd made.

"I wanted to make you breakfast in bed to thank you for taking care of me. I guess it got away from me."

Blaine threw the last of the batter soaked paper towels into the garbage and washed his hands. "I appreciate the effort Babe but I'd rather just get some sleep at this point."

Kurt whined, "I'm SICK of sleeping, and resting and not being able to do what I want to do."

Blaine kissed the tip of his nose, "Should have thought of that before you decided it would be a good idea for you and Elliot to take up pole dancing."

"It was for the show and besides I didn't hear you complaining when I was showing you the moves."

"That was different." Blaine took his tea in one hand and grabbed Kurt's hand with the other, leading him to the sofa.

"Different because it was a private show?" Kurt popped an eyebrow and couldn't hide his smirk.

"And there was a mattress involved; you aren't going to break your arm on a mattress."

Kurt set his mouth to a straight line. This was his way of ending conversations. He had nothing more to say because he was not winning.

Bumping Kurt's knee with his own Blaine smiled, "You didn't lose all of the batter, want me to finish the pancakes?"

He knew he had him when the line turned to a pout, "Can I put the blueberries in?"

"Someday we're going to have children and you're going to have to let them do it." Blaine moved for the kitchen taking both of their cups.

"When that time comes I'll deal with it, until then I am on blueberry duty."

They worked in relative quiet for a bit, relative because neither seemed to be able to do anything in the kitchen without singing bits and pieces of various show tunes. Kurt turned too fast and banged his cast on the counter making him wince in pain.

"C'mere." Blaine took the wounded hand and opened Kurt's clenched fingers, placing a bit of ice against his palm.

Kurt blinked a few times, "That worked."

"Don't sound so surprised." Blaine plated their pancakes and pulled crisp bacon from the pan on the stove. "I broke a lot of bones when I was a kid." He set the plates on the table and reached for the juice glasses, kissing Kurt's cheek on his way by. "My parents thought I was a klutz but the breaks mysteriously stopped when Coop moved out."

Kurt looked taken aback, "He hurt you?"

Blaine poured the juice then joined him at the table, "You're such an only child. He beat the crap out of me. It wasn't ABUSE Kurt, it was brothers."

"I guess I should be happy Finn and I became brothers after that phase." Kurt said it but then tried to shake off the sadness.

Blaine cut Kurt's pancakes into bite size pieces, "We all miss him, it's okay to feel bad."

"You cut my pancakes."

"You were sitting right here watching me do it." Blaine stuffed a huge hunk, dripping with syrup, into his own mouth.

"You're going to be such a good dad."

Blaine laughed a little, "Because I cut your pancakes?"

"Yes. Only that. Not your nurturing nature, easy laugh, big heart, patience of a saint, just the pancake cutting."

"We're going to have the most sarcastic kids on the planet."

"And you will love them for it." Kurt kicked at Blaine's foot.

"And I will love them for it…you're getting syrup everywhere, I'm going to have to throw those pajamas in the laundry."

Kurt pulled the sticky top away from himself then sniffed. "I need a shower; I haven't been able to move enough since I fell. You should get a medal for sleeping with me the way I smell."

"And for letting you steal the blankets every single night. You can't get your cast wet." Blaine cleared their plates and peeled a banana, handing half to Kurt.

"They gave me one of those plastic sleeve things. You'll have to help put it on."

The dishes in the sink soaking Blaine followed Kurt into the bathroom and helped him when his pajama bottoms got caught up on the side with the broken arm and Kurt lost his balance. "How are you going to wash in there one handed? You're gonna fall down and hit your head."

Kurt was deadpan, "If only there was some able bodied person to help me reach…stuff."

"You're a pain in the ass you know that?" Blaine said grinning and stripping his clothes off.

"And you're the blueberries in my pancakes." Kurt retorted his fingers reaching out to curl around Blaine's waist.