"Blaine?" Kurt had an urge to whisper, even though Blaine wasn't asleep. Maybe he just didn't want to spook him. "Sweetheart, what are you doing?"

Blaine twisted awkwardly to look at Kurt from his spot on the floor in the middle of the kitchen. His eyes were red and his cheeks were wet and his breath kept jumping. He took another pickle from the jar balanced on his bulging stomach.

"I'm-" he sniffed, "I'm cooking us dinner?"

Kurt didn't know whether to laugh or cry. This was the third time this week he'd found Blaine in tears. And it was only Tuesday. He ignored the floury mess on the counter (when will Blaine learn he just can't do pastry?) and dropped his bag on the floor before walking over to him and sitting next to him on the floor. He thought he might have put his thigh in some egg white, but he scooted forward, pulling Blaine between his legs. The gesture drew another sob from Blaine and he bit into the pickle slipping between his fingers as he leaned against his husband and nuzzled into his neck. Kurt knew better than to say it out loud and risk getting his head bitten off, but Blaine still managed to look adorable even when he was whimpering and fat and stuffing his face. He stroked his hair, pressing a kiss into the curls that Blaine didn't have the energy to gel any more.

"It's okay, honey, I'm here. I'll clean it up."

He heard a loud sniff, and he couldn't help smiling.

"I'm so sorry, Kurt."

Kurt ducked his head to the side to try to catch Blaine's eye, but Blaine was too busy hiding his face in Kurt's chest.

"Hey, no. You don't need to be sorry. It'll only take a minute."

Blaine mumbled something, but it was muffled by the thick wool of Kurt's cardigan. Kurt slid a hand between them to tilt Blaine's chin up a little. He wasn't just hormonal this time. He was really upset.

"It's not just the kitchen. It's me. I'm a mess."

Kurt felt his insides clench. He squeezed Blaine's waist.

"Blaine, it's alright-"

"No, it isn't, Kurt. I'm sick of being like this. I thought once I got over the morning sickness I'd feel better, but it's worse. I'm always tired. I miss work and all the kids and I don't like being here on my own all day when I can't even make myself useful. There's so much to do and I'm too tired to do it."

"It'll get there, baby; the nursery's almost finished-"

"Yeah, because you've been working so hard to get it done even though you've still got your job. You're doing so much and I can't even make dinner."

"Blaine, you're making a whole new person. You could do nothing for the rest of your life and you'd still be beating me."

"But I keep crying at everything and I can't turn around without knocking something over with my belly-"

"Blaine-"

"And I don't even like these stupid things," he popped the rest of the pickle into his mouth, "but I can't stop eating them, and we're already running out again-"

"Then we'll buy more-"

"But I feel so helpless… I'm just so big and so-" he was whispering now, "so ugly-"

"What?" Kurt genuinely couldn't believe what he was hearing. As far as he was concerned, Blaine had just been getting cuter every month, rounder and softer, and just when he thought he couldn't adore him any more, his walk turned into a waddle. "Blaine, no, you're gorgeous-"

"Whatever, Kurt, I look like a- what's that thing? Like an elephant, but, like, short, and they swim, and-"

"A hippopotamus?"

"Oh, God, I can't even remember the word hippopotamus! And you guessed it a little too quickly for my liking-"

"I guessed it because I can read your mind. Anyway, I think they're cute."

Blaine scowled.

"So you do think I look like one. Or you don't, and you don't think I'm cute."

Kurt blinked, not sure what was happening. He felt like he was on thin ice, and his eight-months-pregnant husband was about to jump on it to spite them both.

"Um… I think you're both cute?"

Blaine took a deep breath and puffed it out.

"I feel horrible. I hate being this fat lump that yells at you for no reason. I hate that we haven't had sex in twenty two days." Kurt bit his lip, relieved that he wasn't the only one who'd been counting. He rubbed his hand over Blaine's back while he talked, knowing how achy it had been the last month. Blaine automatically snuggled up to him, pulling Kurt's leg over his own so he was completely wrapped up by his husband, snug between his thighs with his warm chest against his cheek. "I hate my brain being on planet baby and making me forget everything and I hate being a big gross blob. I just want it to be over already."

"Well, a few more weeks and it will be. And we'll have a screaming baby to take care of and you'll miss the days when you had time to sit on the kitchen floor crying into a pickle jar."

Blaine sniffed again.

"Thanks, darling. You always know just what to say."

"I'm not finished. As for this 'ugly' thing - no. Just no. You're gorgeous, Blaine."

"Kurt-"

"No. You really must be forgetting everything if you don't think you're beautiful."

"But I'm enormous. And it's not all baby. It's mostly just ice cream."

"Good. I like ice cream. I can't believe I get a baby and even more Blaine. I'm the luckiest guy in the world."

"But-"

"You could be as big as a house - you could have seven babies in there and I'd still love you. And we could teach them to sing and be like the Von Trapp family."

"But I like our drapes. I can't sleep without them."

Kurt sighed and kissed his cheek.

"I guess I'll have to settle for just this one for now, then. And I'll find something else to dress her in."

Blaine closed his eyes and rested his head on Kurt's shoulder.

"I know. I've seen the sketches."

"Yeah, well, I'm not letting our daughter throw up on just any old rags."

"Good. Only the best."

They were quiet for a moment. Blaine concentrated on Kurt's breathing, his sweet smell, and the circles he was stroking on just the right spot above his hip. He put the pickle jar down on the floor and rested his hand over the bump, and Kurt covered Blaine's hand with his own. They both took a deep breath and shifted in an attempt to squeeze closer together, but they were already as entangled as two people could be. Blaine nuzzled even further into Kurt's sweater and Kurt kissed Blaine's hair and they both smiled when they felt a nudge against their hands.

Kurt chuckled.

"I keep forgetting we're not alone."

"You make her sound like a stalker. She's just saying hi."

Kurt ducked down to address the bump.

"Hi, baby. I hope you're nice and comfy in there."

"She is. I've made it extra soft. By, um… eating a lot. She's all good."

"She's great."

Kurt sat up straight and kissed Blaine's forehead. Blaine grinned at him, his cheeks still wet but his eyes back to their normal sparkle instead of glistening with tears.

"Well, she is ours."

Kurt paused again to stroke Blaine's hair out of his face and take him in, his smile and his chubby cheeks and the smudge of flour on his ear.

"You okay?"

Blaine nodded.

"I will be. I'll be a lot better once she's here. Then I won't be so helpless."

"Hey," Kurt said, nudging Blaine's nose with his own to maintain eyes contact, "you'll never be helpless. And if I get to take care of you two like this for another month, fine by me."

Blaine sighed dreamily, then glanced at the mess surrounding them.

"We should probably clean this up."

Kurt covered Blaine's eyes and pulled his head down to his chest.

"It can wait."