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Chapter 13

Ordering food to take back to the hotel room was awkward. Kurt’s Arabic was okay and the guy behind the counter spoke awfully fast with an unfamiliar accent. He ordered some rice, lentil soup, and a couple of flatbreads. If he got some nice bland foods, he figured that increased the chances that maybe Mike could keep it down. Or was that something you only did for puking from a virus? He wasn’t sure, but it sounded like a plan. A stop by a convenience store for some more Tylenol and bottled water completed his errands.

Kurt let himself quietly back into the hotel room. Mike was curled on the bed, eyes closed. Kurt set the food on the top of the TV stand and stood watching Mike for a couple of minutes, reassuring himself that his partner was still breathing.

“I’m not asleep,” Mike muttered.

“Oh…” Kurt felt vaguely embarrassed to be caught still standing there. “I’ve got food. I think maybe you should eat something.”