It began when Finn sneezed after arriving home from football practice. It was unfortunate that Blaine found himself in his line of fire.

'Oh gross, sorry,' Finn said sincerely as Blaine sat in shock, staring down at his now-damp sweater. 'Here, let me clean you off.'

He grabbed a tissue from the coffee table and proceeded to wipe Blaine's face and clothing to gather up the moisture from his saliva, poking out his tongue in concentration as he did so.

'No need, really….Finn, it – it tickles!' Blaine laughed, as Finn wiped the tissue over his sensitive stomach.

'Sorry,' Finn replied, scrunching up the tissue in his hand as he made a face to show how disgusted he was by not being able to control his sneeze.

Blaine shook his head. 'It happens. I'll just go hop in the shower and it'll clean itself off.'

He made a detour to Kurt's room to retrieve some dry clothing before walking over to the bathroom. Blaine was looking forward to a long, hot shower but before a minute had passed under the showerhead, the warm water suddenly turned cold. Blaine shivered and closed his eyes, enduring another thirty seconds of it so that he could rinse the shampoo from his hair. He didn't want to lay blame on anyone for the lack of hot water, but yesterday he had overheard Carole and Burt scolding Finn and his habit of singing ballads in the shower and Kurt, who often showered twice a day.

As he walked down the hallway to Kurt's room, he felt a cold breeze run through him. Looking up, the window above him had been left slightly ajar.

Sebastian, Blaine thought crossly as he rushed past the window, the cold making his wet hair feel like it could turn to ice. He was expecting a video call from the Warblers soon so he didn't have time to visit the living room to dry his hair. The central heating unit was particularly good for this purpose; a few blasts of hot air from the vent and his hair was dried instantly. He always brought his gel with him to smooth down his curls afterwards because, heaven forbid that his ungelled hair would be seen in the light of day. Blaine had to be careful, though. He had been blown away by the force of the heating vent on more than one occasion, and while being thrown into the air was fun, the landing often wasn't.

'…if we go with that order. It will convince the judges this time.'

'Are you suggesting that the song is strong enough for the finale?'

'I think so. It will keep our energy up so that you guys can end on a high.'

Kurt caught snippets of conversation as he walked into his room. Blaine was seated in front of the iPhone on his bedside table, in video call to someone on the other end. He was wearing a blue beanie over his head which hid every single strand of his hair. Kurt didn't comment as he passed by Blaine and whoever was on the other end of the phone to pick up his sweater off his bed.

'Hey, Kurt,' Blaine greeted him. 'I'm on Facetime.'

'I can see that,' Kurt replied, while placing the sweater over his head. 'Who are you talking to?'

His question was answered as he caught a glimpse of the screen. There was not just one, but as many as fifteen Warblers seated on couches and from a distance, three other Warblers seated behind a raised platform, all looking through the phone.

'It's our Warblers' Council meeting,' Blaine told him, shifting to the side so that Kurt could be more visible.

'Oh…uh…' Kurt hadn't expected to find Blaine speaking to a whole room of boys. 'Hi.'

There were scattered but friendly greetings in reply and some curious glances.

'Since I'm holding the floor - permission for Kurt Hummel to attend this meeting as an observer?' Blaine said.

Kurt could see the boys behind the raised platform murmuring to one another.

'Permission granted,' said the boy in the middle. 'On the condition that he does not disclose of any information shared or discussed in this meeting to any third party, whether they be family or fellow show choir member.'

'Promise,' Kurt said, sitting down on the edge of his bed.

'He's good with his word,' Blaine said, then sneezed suddenly. Kurt whispered a bless you, and he noted most of the boys on the other side of the screen had done the same.

'Very well,' continued the boy in the middle. 'We will have to take note of that in our minutes. Thad, write that down.'

The boy to his left, who Kurt now knew as Thad, scribbled down something on the paper in front of him. Kurt listened in wonder at how Blaine commanded the boys' attention when speaking and the civilized manner in which the three Council members conducted the meeting's agenda, whether by debating the song order for Regionals, potential dance moves or warning about curfew in the dormitories.

Such perfect gentlemen, Kurt thought, smiling a little to himself.

Kurt was usually the first person to wake up between himself and Blaine, so he was surprised when, on Saturday morning, he awoke to find Blaine sitting in the middle of his bedside table, the comforter from his bed wrapped tight around him.

'Blaine?' Kurt asked, sitting up and stretching. 'You're up early.'

'Couldn't sleep,' Blaine mumbled, wrapping the comforter tighter around him and sniffing.

'How long have you been sitting there?'

'Don't…know,' Blaine replied, shaking his head. His words were slurred slightly and Kurt realized immediately that something wasn't right. He slipped out of bed and crouched down by the bedside table. Blaine's eyes were red and his forehead was covered in sweat.

'Hey…' Kurt said gently, eying the other boy in concern. 'You don't look so good.'

'C-cold,' Blaine stammered, and hugged the comforter closer around him. Kurt didn't hesitate to place a finger to Blaine's forehead to feel his temperature.

'You're burning up,' Kurt gasped, trying to reach for the comforter.

'N-no…' Blaine protested weakly, his hidden limbs trembling underneath. 'Too cold.'

'We have to get this off, Blaine,' Kurt replied, tugging the comforter away from Blaine, who whimpered and wrapped his hands around his torso. 'C'mon, I'll take you downstairs.'

Kurt scooped up the shaking boy in his hand and hastened out of his room to the kitchen. By that time, Blaine's eyes had glazed over and Kurt was starting to feel panicked.

'Hold on, Blaine…Finn!' he called, knowing his stepbrother was awake and watching Saturday morning cartoons. 'FINN!'

'I was in the living room, what's the rush?' Finn said, appearing at the doorway with a spoon and a bowl of cereal in his hands.

'Blaine, he's…'

'Oh, dude,' Finn remarked, putting down his bowl and spoon and approaching Kurt. Blaine was groaning and tossing deliriously from side to side. 'What happened?'

'I don't know, he's not feeling well and…'

'Can we give him something?'

'It might be too strong for him.'

'He needs something strong,' Finn replied. 'That looks like a hell of…whatever it is.'

'Maybe you should watch where you sneeze next time!'

'Hey!' Finn growled, pointing his finger at Kurt. 'That was an accident! At least I don't use up all the hot water in the house!'

'Look who's talking!' Kurt shot back, just as Blaine groaned again and curled up into a tight ball in his palm. Kurt gazed down at him worryingly.

Finn opened his mouth to retort but he was stopped by the sound of the doorbell. In a few seconds, he returned with Mrs Frederick in tow, who happened to stop by with some size-friendly toiletries for Blaine. Normally Kurt would baulk at being with company clad only in his pajamas and his hair unstyled, but Finn was too and so was Blaine, whose unknown illness was more pressing. She hurried over to Kurt's side and placed a finger on Blaine's forehead.

'It's a fever, all right,' she replied. 'He can handle a quarter of an Advil dissolved in warm water. Finn, if you would be so kind as to go upstairs and place his bed somewhere close by, or perhaps bring it down to the living room. And as for you,' she continued, looking down at Blaine. 'It'll be bed rest from now on. No resting under the covers until that temperature goes away.' Blaine whined and turned around, burying half of his face in Kurt's palm.

Carole returned from her grocery shopping not long after, and she, Mrs Frederick and Kurt stood around the coffee table in the living room where Blaine was supported upright on his bed by three pillows while a thermometer had been placed in his mouth.

Mrs Frederick removed it promptly and squinted at it, but it was so tiny that the numbers were hard to see. Carole glanced over Mrs Frederick's shoulder.

'Seems like the fever is gone,' she said, after which Blaine grinned and pulled the covers of the bed up to his chest. Kurt thought he did look a lot better than an hour ago.

'He still has an awful cold,' Mrs Frederick replied. 'I'll send our doctor over tomorrow, if you don't mind.'

'Of course,' Carole replied. 'We don't want him to get worse.'

'I'm feeling much better,' Blaine piped up from the bed. 'I could get up and sing and dance if I wanted to.'

'That's the Advil talking,' Mrs Frederick replied and Kurt sniggered, stopping abruptly when Blaine shot him a reproachful look. 'If the doctor is as smart as I know he is, he'll be prescribing bed rest for the rest of the week. Which means no lessons or homework for you.'

Blaine looked disappointed, and Kurt was going to ask if she would still be coming over the following week, but she answered before he had a chance to ask. 'That doesn't apply to you, Kurt.'

'That's fine,' Kurt replied, but he scowled a little when Carole and Mrs Frederick weren't looking.

Just as Mrs Frederick had predicted, the doctor advised bed-rest to aid Blaine's recovery, so Blaine was confined to his bed for the whole week. Kurt thought Blaine shouldn't have much to complain about; the other members of the family were keeping him well-entertained. His father recounted stories to Blaine as he sat on the sofa in the living room, listening with a delighted smile as he sneezed from time to time (Kurt was suspicious that a lot of the stories were about him whenever he was out of the room). Carole played card games with him. Finn discussed moves that his opponents had made in his football games that had him completely blindsided. And Kurt did the rest: reading Blaine stories, watching a couple of their favorite childhood movies in silence and keeping him company when the others could not.

Mrs Frederick had a very close eye on him, too; Blaine would be in her sight at all times in his bed in the living room while she tutored Kurt at the table in the kitchen. At night, Kurt would bring Blaine and his bed upstairs where it would rest on the bedside table, in case Blaine needed Kurt during the night. He had his tissues and a glass of water with him, but Kurt had insisted he stay nearby, even for his own selfish reason that he wanted to keep the other boy just a little closer.

…

Kurt sighed as he spotted a tiny figure tiptoeing across his carpeted floor. He slipped off his bed where he had been reading for the past fifteen minutes and stood in the path of the smaller boy and blocking his way. Blaine froze, eyes drifting from the sock-covered feet in front of him all the way up to Kurt's face.

'Yeah…' Blaine began, looking up sheepishly at Kurt. 'I was just going for…'

'No, Blaine,' Kurt replied. Blaine let out a noise of frustration but didn't put up a fight as Kurt picked him up by the fabric of his pajamas and returned him to his bed.

Blaine crossed his arms after he had shuffled up against the pillows. 'But I was just going to stretch my legs,' he whined.

'You need bed rest. I'm just following the doctor's orders,' Kurt replied, sitting down on his own bed.

'What if I have to go to the bathroom?'

'Then I'll take you there.'

'It's only a three and a half minute walk!'

'Not in your condition,' Kurt answered. He felt like he was dealing with a small petulant child instead of a whiny little Blaine. Kurt wondered what he had put his own father through when he had been sick and he was realized he was probably just as whiny, if not worse.

'Okay then,' Blaine said, and Kurt relaxed a little. 'Are you reading the book we're studying next month?'

'Do you want me to read it aloud?'

'Yes, please,' Blaine replied, lying down and burrowing himself a little under the covers. Kurt smiled at his manners and began to read. He became so lost in the novel that after a good half-hour, he turned to Blaine to find the other boy fast asleep.

Kurt closed the book softly as not to wake him and moved closer to the bedside table. Blaine's breath was wheezy and his eyes a little puffy, but it seemed as if not even the loudest noise could wake him. Kurt gingerly placed his little finger by Blaine's cheek, feeling the warmth and softness there. He was surprised when Blaine nuzzled against it unconsciously and Kurt removed his finger as if he had been burned. He watched Blaine frown at the loss of warmth by his cheek and turned around, facing away from Kurt in indignation. Kurt thought it would be best to just let him sleep, though his fingers were aching to touch the other boy's cheek again.