Blaine was on his knees in an instant, his hand going to Kurt's forehead. "Oh Kurt," he said worriedly. "What happened to you?"

"Mhmm, Blaine. What time is it?" asked Kurt confusedly.

"Almost 8," replied Blaine, glancing at his watch to confirm the time. As he answered Kurt, his hand went to Kurt's hot, damp forehead, confirming that he most likely had a fever. A high one judging from the amount of heat radiating from Kurt's body.

"Ohh, Blaine, I'm sorry. Our date! I must have fallen asleep on the floor." Kurt mumbled, eyes half closed in either pain or exhaustion.

Blaine looked at Kurt with concern. "Fell asleep or passed out?"

"Same difference," said Kurt petulantly.

"Um no, Kurt. Those most certainly are not the same thing. What's going on? Are you sick, babe?"

"Nope, just really enjoy making deposits to the porcelain god and napping with my good friend Mr. Toilet Bowl. You?" asked Kurt sarcastically.

Blaine held up his hands. "Okay, okay, I'm going to let that one pass because it is clear that you are feeling like death. You look awful, Kurt. What's hurting? Where are you feeling bad?"

"I look awful? Oh god, you shouldn't see me like this. I'm hideous. Is there vomit on my shirt or something?" Kurt blurted out, looking embarrassed.

"Hey, shh babe. That's not what I meant. I just meant you look like you are feeling pretty miserable. You are still gorgeous, even all rumpled and flushed like this. But let's get back to the issue at hand. I need to know how sick you are. We may need to take you to the infirmary or call your dad or something," Blaine finished worriedly. "Can you tell me your symptoms?"

Kurt's eyes snapped shut, seemingly in exhaustion. "Mhmm, my stomach and side hurt. I've been feeling nauseous all day and started puking around 4 or 4:30. Got a headache too."

"Okay babe," Blaine said soothingly as he slowly stroked Kurt's upper arm. "Have you taken any medicine yet? Have you checked your temperature lately?"

Kurt rested his head against the cool porcelain of the side of the bathtub, and shook his head, eyes still closed shut tightly.

"Right, well we need to do that first." Blaine ran a cool hand across Kurt's forehead feeling the unnatural heat radiating from his pores. "You are burning up, Kurt. Where's your medicine cabinet? Do you have any supplies in there?" Blaine asked gently.

"I think Carole put some stuff with the first aid kit under the sink..." Kurt trailed off weakly.

"Okay Kurt, just sit tight for a second." Blaine said as he reluctantly dropped his hand from Kurt's forehead and began to root around under the sink, finding a thermometer and a bottle of Tylenol. It wasn't much, but it was a good start.

Blaine was back at Kurt's side in a flash, noticing that Kurt's eyes were closed again and he looked paler than he had only moments ago. "Alright Kurt, open up," Blaine commanded, sticking the thermometer in Kurt's mouth. "Under your tongue," he continued, bringing his hand to Kurt's cheek and noting that his temperature appeared to be going nowhere but up.

"Mhhff," said Kurt mumbling something unintelligibly thanks to the thermometer in his mouth.

Blaine waited quietly for the beeping that signaled that Kurt's temperature was ready to be displayed. Before Kurt could grab the thermometer, Blaine grabbed it from him and looked at the display, feeling his stomach drop as he read the numbers. 103.3. "Oh Kurt..." said Blaine worriedly. "You're really sick, baby."

Kurt's eyes were closed again, and he seemed to be leaning more heavily against the bathtub than he had been only minutes before. "What did it say?" he asked Blaine, not bothering to open his eyes.

"103.3," responded Blaine, trying hard not let his panic come through in his voice.

"Shit..." muttered Kurt, the word sounding funny coming from his mouth since he rarely cursed.

Normally, Blaine would have teased him for using a curse word or told him how adorable the word "shit" sounded coming from his lips, but the word seemed appropriate at the moment and Blaine was too worried to flirt. Instead, "yeah," was all that Blaine managed to say.

Blaine shook his head, trying to decide what he should do next. Kurt was obviously sick and probably needed to see a doctor. Blaine needed to get his fever down, get him into bed, and make sure he wasn't getting too dehydrated from vomiting. Should he call Kurt's dad? Take him to the infirmary? He had a feeling Kurt wasn't going to like either option.

"Hey Kurt?" Blaine began tentatively.

"Yeah Blaine?" Kurt said in response.

"As much as I'm enjoying hanging out on the cold tile floor of your bathroom, I'm thinking we should get you up and take you to the infirmary, okay?" asked Blaine, expecting resistance.

"The floor isn't cold. It feels good. And I'm not going to the infirmary. That nurse scares me." responded Kurt petulantly.

Blaine sighed heavily. "Kurt, the floor feels good because you are running a 103.3 fever which is precisely why you need to see a doctor. A fever that high isn't good, Kurt. Something could be seriously wrong with you."

"Not going..." Kurt answered tiredly.

"Okay then, would you rather I call your dad? We've got to do something, Kurt."

Kurt's eyes flew open at this comment, immediately looking at Blaine to confirm that he wasn't dialing his dad's number as they spoke. "Blaine, you can't. He's not well. He had a heart attack just a few months ago. He'll freak out if you call him. I'm fine."

Blaine rubbed his hands over his face in frustration. "Okay, I'll call Carole then."

"Won't do you any good. She's in Memphis until late tonight. Her sister's kid had a baby and she's visiting them."

Blaine was running out of options. "What would you suggest that we do then, Kurt? I'm not leaving you lying here on the bathroom floor."

"Help me get in bed. I'll sleep and hopefully I'll feel a lot better tomorrow."

Blaine sighed again. "And what if you get worse?"

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Then I'll consider going to the infirmary. If I get a lot worse. But I won't," finished Kurt with finality.

"Alright Kurt. I'll make you a deal. Non-negotiable. I'll put you in bed, but you need to take some medicine and do exactly what I tell you. I'll stay and keep an eye on you. I'm going to check your temperature again in a few hours after the Tylenol's had a chance to work. If it hasn't gone down or you seem like you are getting worse, I'm bringing you to the infirmary and you aren't going to fight me on it. Okay?"

Kurt sat for a second, seeming to think it over. He was so exhausted that he didn't have the energy to fight anymore. Plus, having Blaine serve as his doctor and take care of him didn't sound so bad. If he could just get some sleep, he was sure he'd be fine. And if the searing pain in his right side could chill out a bit, that would be even better. Kurt decided that this was his best option at the moment, so he opened his eyes and looked at Blaine. "Okay," he said simply. "It's a deal."

Blaine nodded, relieved that Kurt was at least willing to let him take care of him a bit. He quickly slipped into caretaker role, a role he was sadly all too familiar with. He's spent the summer after his freshmen year of high school caring for his Nana Betty after her hip replacement surgery. He'd wanted to help his beloved Nana, but he also relished the chance to get away from the bullying that seemed to be worsening on a daily basis. School was out, but the bullies that had made his life a living hell were still everywhere he went and after getting the crap kicked out of him a few times, he'd become scared to leave the house. So when his parents told him that they would need to leave him alone for a few weeks while they went to Cincinnati to help out, Blaine had jumped at the opportunity and volunteered to go instead.

"Okay, first things first. You need to take these," Blaine said, placing two Extra Strength Tylenol in Kurt's palm. "I'll get you some water."

"No," Kurt moaned. "I'll just throw them back up."

Blaine bent back down, handing Kurt a small paper cup with water. "That wasn't the deal. Just take them with a little sip of water and hopefully they'll stay down. We've got to do something to get your fever down, Kurt."

"Fine," Kurt agreed weakly, palming the pills into his mouth and taking a small, tentative sip of water, wincing as the pills slid against his raw throat.

"Okay," Blaine said, taking the half empty paper cup and throwing it away. "Now let's get you into bed."

Even in his weakened state, Kurt managed to raise an eyebrow at Blaine at his comment.

Blaine looked at him and laughed, shaking his head. "Not like that, Kurt. Not now at least. Rain check?"

"Rain check." Kurt answered.

"Alright, I'm going to help you up, okay? Just tell me if you feel dizzy or anything." Blaine wrapped an arm around Kurt's back and slowly helped him to his feet.

Kurt was on feet and almost standing straight up when he suddenly stopped, gasped, and bent over, dropping his hands to his knees.

Blaine's other hand went to Kurt's shoulder, steadying him. "Kurt? Kurt, what is it?" Blaine looked down to see Kurt's face twisted in pain, his hand grasping his right side. "Hey hey, let's sit you back down." Blaine continued, pushing down the lid on the toilet and easing Kurt back to sit down on it. Blaine knelt down in front of Kurt, bringing a gentle hand to his cheek. "Kurt, talk to me. What's wrong?"

After several tense seconds, Kurt let out a deep breath and opened his eyes. "Sorry, I'm okay now. Just got a stitch in my side, probably from sitting on the floor for so long."

"Not buying it, Kurt. Seriously, what's going on?" Blaine asked firmly.

"I don't know, Blaine. My stomach is hurting and it's worse when I stand up."

Blaine took a breath and tried to start what he knew would be a hopeless conversation. "Kurt, maybe we should..."

"No Blaine, I'm fine as long as I don't stand up all the way. Bed please." Kurt raised his hand, reaching for Blaine. Blaine sighed but decided not to argue until he had Kurt in a more comfortable position . He gently helped Kurt to his feet and put his arm around him, being grateful for once that being shorter than Kurt made it easier for him to hold Kurt up while Kurt stayed slightly stooped over. Kurt and Blaine walked hunched over to the bed and Blaine carefully sat him down on the bed before pulling back Kurt's duvet and comforter so that he could slide beneath the covers.

"Okay Kurt, lay down. Wait, do you want to change out of your uniform pants before you get in bed?" Blaine asked.

"No...too much work," Kurt mumbled. Blaine could see that the short walk to his bed had taken a lot out of him. Kurt was paler still and his face was damp from sweat. His forehead was tensed in obvious pain and he seemed weak and defeated. Blaine's hand went to his boiling forehead and stroked the damp bangs from Kurt's eyes.

"How you feeling, Kurt?" asked Blaine worriedly.

"Mhhm, awful. Just want to die." Kurt muttered, his eyes already closing again.

"Don't say that, Kurt. I've got an idea of something that might make you feel a little better. Wait here."

And with that, Blaine moved from his perch on the side of the bed and ran back to the bathroom, filling a small bowl with cool water and dampening one of Kurt's clean washcloths. He returned to the bedroom just in time to see Kurt start to retch. Blaine dropped the bowl of water and washcloth onto the dresser and quickly slid the trashcan from Kurt's desk over to his bedside, just before Kurt leaned over and coughed and vomited into the trashcan. Not much came up, but Kurt continued to cough and gag for several minutes before he stilled. Blaine felt helpless as he could only rub Kurt's back until the nausea passed and hold onto his shoulder in hopes of keeping Kurt from retching himself right off the bed.

Once he felt certain that the vomiting had stopped, Blaine spoke. "Kurt, you okay? Here, rinse your mouth out. It'll make you feel better" he urged, handing Kurt a chilled bottle of water that he had grabbed from his mini-fridge.

Kurt rinsed out his mouth, spitting the excess water into the trashcan. "Umm, so much for keeping down the Tylenol. Sorry you had to see that," he apologized hoarsely.

Blaine shook his head, surprised that his boyfriend was apologizing for getting sick. "Honey, you can't help it. It's okay. I'm just worried that you can't keep anything down. You're going to get dehydrated if this keeps up and I don't know how we are going to get your fever down without Tylenol."

Blaine reached for the washcloth and bowl of water that he'd sat on the nearby dresser. He carefully squeezed out the excess water, ensuring that it would not drip before gently resting it on Kurt's burning forehead.

Kurt let out a sigh as he felt a touch of cool water against his clammy forehead. He turned his head into Blaine's touch, sighing as Blaine dabbed at his cheeks and neck with the cool cloth. "That feels good," he told Blaine.

"Good, I'm hoping it will help cool you off a little. Kurt, when's the last time you kept any food or drinks down?"

"Umm, breakfast? I had a glass of orange juice and half a bagel. I was feeling sick at lunch so I didn't eat anything. I tried to drink a Jamba Juice smoothie, but I ended up throwing that up later." Kurt reported.

"Okay, well we need you to at least keep liquids down if you want to stay out of the infirmary. What if you tried a tiny sip of ginger ale?"

"Mhhm, don't know Blaine. I don't want to throw up again." Kurt mumbled weakly.

"I know, Kurt, but ginger ale is supposed to be good for nausea. Just try taking a tiny sip with another Tylenol, okay?" Blaine practically begged while grabbing a ginger ale from the fridge and pulling out another Extra-Strength Tylenol.

"Okay," said Kurt, simply too tired to keep arguing with Blaine. He quickly palmed the proffered Tylenol and took an even smaller sip of ginger ale than he had of the water only minutes earlier. "Better keep the trashcan there though," Kurt warned before he laid back against the pillows, closing his eyes.

"I will, Kurt. You should try to rest, I guess. Is there anything I can do?" Blaine asked while continuing to stroke Kurt's forehead and cheeks with the cool washcloth.

"Nope, just being here is good enough," was Kurt's mumbled reply.

Blaine bent down and placed a quick kiss on Kurt's temple. "Goodnight Kurt. Feel better, okay? Do you want the lights out?"

Kurt nodded, eyes still closed. When he felt the shift of the bed as Blaine stood up, his eyes opened again, looking panicked. He watched as Blaine left his side and walked towards the door. Before he could stop himself, he spoke. "Blaine? Don't leave okay? I need you here." Kurt blushed as he finished, feeling clingy and desperate for the slightly pleading quality he could hear in his voice.

"What?" said Blaine, looking back to Kurt in confusion. "Oh no, I'm not leaving. I'm just turning off the light, honey. I'm not going anywhere." Blaine flipped the light switch, allowing the room to darken, lit only by the slight glow of light coming from underneath the closed bathroom door. Blaine walked back towards the bed, sliding Kurt's rolling desk chair until it rested right at Kurt's bedside. Blaine had just lowered himself into the chair and was about to resume stroking Kurt's hair when he heard Kurt's shy voice in the dark.

"Blaine? I know I'm probably covered in germs and look disgusting, but could you...would you mind laying with me? Just for a little while until I fall asleep. I...I just..." Kurt trailed off, feeling shy despite being emboldened enough by the dark to ask for something he'd been longing to do ever since Blaine had first slept in his bed after the Rachel Berry House Party Train Wreck Extravaganza. Kurt smiled a bit in the dark as he remembered that night.

FLASHBACK – NIGHT OF RACHEL'S PARTY

Blaine had been so drunk that he was practically incoherent by the time Kurt had managed to get him back to his house. He'd gotten him upstairs with no small amount of help from Finn. Kurt wasn't sure what to do with Blaine once Finn had deposited him on Kurt's bed and headed for his own room, saying goodnight and quickly shutting the door behind him. Blaine was sprawled across the bed, half awake and half asleep.

"Blaine? Do you want to borrow some clothes to sleep in?" Kurt had asked the semi-conscious boy on his bed. Blaine looked adorable, Kurt couldn't help but noticing. It was nice to seem him in something besides his Dalton blazer. Kurt loved the way Blaine dressed, classic with a small touch of urban hipster as evidenced by the slim cut of his dark wash American Outfitter jeans. Even better, his hair had been released from its gelled prison and Kurt was able to see Blaine's rumpled curls in all their glory.

"Mhmmff, no. I just wanna take my shoes off...They're stuck." Blaine slurred, trying and failing to pull off his boots.

"Here, let me help you," Kurt said, sitting down next to Blaine and reaching down to undo the laces on his boots before slipping them off easily.

"Oh wow, you did it," said Blaine in drunken amazement. He reached up and placed a hand on Kurt's cheek. "Kurt, you're the best, you know that? I'm so glad you transferred to Dalton." Blaine smiled and his hand drifted from Kurt's cheek and back to the bed. His eyes closed and within seconds, he was snoring softly.

Kurt stayed frozen in place for several seconds, his cheek still tingling from Blaine's touch. The moment seemed oddly intimate and for a second, Kurt allowed himself to hope, to dream again of what could be with Blaine as his boyfriend. As he looked down at Blaine's snoozing form, reality invaded his thoughts again. Who was he kidding? Blaine was wasted. He wouldn't even remember any of this in the morning. Not two hours ago, Blaine had his tongue down Rachel Berry's throat. As much as Kurt wished otherwise, he and Blaine were friends, nothing more.

With a sigh, Kurt got up from the bed and went to the bathroom to change into his pajamas and follow his nightly moisturizing routine. The warm water and the ritual of carefully washing, toning, and moisturizing his skin relaxed Kurt and he found himself laughing as he remembered Blaine's duet with Rachel. "God, it should be illegal to look so freaking cute and sound that good even when totally drunk," he thought with a wry chuckle. He finished his pre-bedtime preparations and went to the closet to grab a sleeping bag, deciding the gentlemanly thing to do would be for him to sleep on the floor and let Blaine have the bed to himself.

Kurt had just grabbed a pillow from the bed and was about to turn out the lights when Blaine spoke. "Kurt? Where are you going?" he asked sleepily.

"I was just about to turn out the lights. I've got a sleeping bag on the floor." Kurt answered.

"You don't have to sleep on the floor. This is your bedroom. There's plenty of room for two," Blaine pointed out practically.

"Um, okay. If you're sure," Kurt said quickly, glad that the dim light hid his blushing. He flipped off the overhead light and quickly slid beneath the covers on the other side of the bed, being careful not to brush against Blaine. Kurt could feel the warmth from Blaine's body in the dark, and found the sensation oddly comforting, even if they weren't touching.

"Night, Kurt," Blaine said sleepily. "Thanks for letting me stay over."

"Goodnight, Blaine. Anytime," Kurt answered, smiling at his good fortune in the darkness.

The next morning, Kurt had awoken just after 8 am feeling warm and comfortable. His eyes flew open as he remembered the night before and the fact that Blaine was sleeping in his bed. He looked over to see that Blaine had migrated closer to him during the night and was currently snuggled up against Kurt, his head close enough that they were sharing the same pillow. His hand was resting gently against Kurt's forearm. Kurt held his breath, scared to even breathe for fear of disturbing this moment. He smiled as he looked at Blaine's face which looked so relaxed and...young in sleep. Unconsciously, Kurt's hand went to Blaine's temple to brush a lock of hair from his eyes. Kurt froze as Blaine made a sound and began to stir. After a few seconds, Blaine mumbled something in his sleep and rolled even more towards Kurt until his face was inches away from Kurt's.

After staying still for several seconds in order to ensure that Blaine was soundly asleep once more, Kurt carefully extricated himself from Blaine's grasp and slid out of bed. He quietly snuck downstairs to the refrigerator and retrieved a bottle of water and another of Gatorade, thinking of the massive hangover Blaine was sure to have when he awoke. Next, Kurt reached into an overhead cabinet to retrieve a bottle of Excedrin, thinking Blaine would likely need it as well. He could hear his dad humming away in the shower and smiled at his tuneless singing. Kurt's vocal talent most certainly did not come from his dad, but from his mother instead. He crept back upstairs and set the drinks and Excedrin on his bedside table, looking down to see Blaine was now laying diagonally across the bed and still out like a light. Kurt smiled as he watched him sleep for a few seconds before retreating to his closet to pick out an outfit. He wanted to look his best when Blaine woke up. Maybe it was silly, but sharing a bed with Blaine the night before had given Kurt a small glimmer of hope. Sure, they were just friends for now. But maybe one day, they could be something more.

Blaine smiled, grateful for Kurt's request as Blaine had wanted nothing more than to take Kurt in his arms since he'd first seen him lying on the bathroom floor. "You don't look disgusting, Kurt. You're beautiful. And sure, I don't mind a little cuddling. Scoot over."

Kurt slid closer to the wall and watched as Blaine gingerly lowered himself onto the bed, trying not to jostle the bed for fear that it would make Kurt's stomach hurt worse. He grabbed a pillow and propped himself up against the backboard before reaching for Kurt in the darkness. "Come here," he said simply. Kurt scooted back towards Blaine, and Blaine gently directed Kurt's head until it was settled against his chest. He wrapped his arm around Kurt', gently rubbing his back in the dark, wincing at the feel of Kurt's much too warm skin. "Sleep, Kurt," he directed. "I'll be here when you wake up." Kurt sighed and allowed his eyes to slip closed, feeling safe and warm.