Feb. 18, 2012, 8:34 p.m.
Sick Day
Kurt is home sick and Blaine surprises him with a visit.
T - Words: 1,074 - Last Updated: Feb 18, 2012 1,224 0 0 2 Categories: Cotton Candy Fluff, General,
“Oh, good Lord,” Kurt said hoarsely, feebly reaching for his remote. “Why is all daytime TV such crap?”
Kurt was lying in bed. He was propped up with about seven pillows, covered in multiple layers of blankets. Discarded tissues and cough drop wrappers were scattered on the carpet, disrupting the usual pristine state of his bedroom. Some god-awful hospital soap opera was on the television. Kurt had woken up from one of his many DayQuil-induced naps to find that the rerun of Project Runway he’d been watching was over.
The TV remote had fallen off of the bed. Sighing, Kurt sunk back into his pillows. Too much effort for his fever-weak muscles.
“Dad!” he called out as best as he could. He’d caught a bug that was going around McKinley, and after the football game on Friday night, he came home shivering and coughing. It had persisted, and today was the first day of school he’d missed. Kurt hated missing school.
“Dad!” he yelled out again, followed by a coughing fit. He sat up to grab another Ricola and glanced at his alarm clock. He’d slept for longer than he had thought-it was past three. His dad had probably headed over to the auto shop. Kurt swore. With any luck, Finn would be home soon. Then again, Kurt doubted that Finn would be capable of making decent tea to sooth Kurt’s throat.
Resigned to watching the stupid TV show, Kurt laid back down and tried not to think about the Pre-calc test he’d have to make up when he got better.
About fifteen minutes later, Kurt heard the front door open and close. He sighed in relief. “Finn?” he called.
There was no answer. Kurt heard footsteps on the stairs, but they didn’t sound nearly as heavy as Finn’s. “Is that you, Carole?” He said as loud as he could.
Still no answer. Kurt’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
The footsteps came down the hallway, and then…paused in front of Kurt’s door. Visions of serial killers and kidnappers had begun to fly through Kurt’s mind. He held his breath. The door creaked open…
And Blaine’s head popped into the room. “Hey,” he said.
Kurt exhaled, relieved for half a second. Then he realized that he hadn’t showered or even combed his hair in over two days. And his gorgeous boyfriend was standing in front of him, having entered the room. Quickly, Kurt pulled his covers up to his chin. “What the hell are you doing here?” he asked, his cheeks reddening.
Blaine raised his eyebrows as he took his messenger bag off and set in on Kurt’s desk chair. “I thought you’d be a little happier to see me.”
“Of course I’m-I mean, it’s-how did you get in?”
“Finn loaned me a key. I told him I wanted to surprise you.” Blaine looked very pleased with his own spontaneity.
“But I’m sick! I look awful!” Kurt exclaimed, his voice giving out. His blush deepened.
Blaine’s expression turned one of adoring amusement. “Kurt,” he said, walking to the bed and sitting on the edge of it. “You do not look awful.” He reached out and brushed back a strand of Kurt’s hair, then cupped his face. “You look adorable.”
Kurt let out a very embarrassing squeaking sound, and the pulled his blankets over his face, knocking Blaine’s hand off.
Blaine laughed, making Kurt bury even deeper into his bed. Quickly, Blaine stopped laughing. He tugged on the covers, but Kurt held on tightly. Sighing, Blaine got up and turned off the TV. Then he went over to his bag. He pulled something out of it, and returned to the bed. “It’s a shame that you’re hiding under there…I guess I’ll have to eat this chocolate I brought you all by myself…”
Kurt lowered the blankets so that his eyes peered over them. It was a sight so cute, Blaine struggled to keep a straight face. “You play dirty,” Kurt said, his words muffled by the blankets.
Blaine shrugged. “I do what I have to.”
Kurt’s eyes narrowed, and he pulled the blankets back up. Sighing, Blaine shrugged off his coat, removed his shoes, and lifted the blankets from the side of the bed.
“What’re you doing?” Kurt squeaked.
“If you won’t come to me, I’m coming to you,” Blaine responded, crawling under the covers and pulling them over him. He scooted up next to Kurt, propping himself up so they made a tent of the blankets. Light filtered through the covers dimly, so they boys could just make out eachother’s faces.
“Did you bring the chocolate?” Kurt asked meekly.
Blaine chuckled and held up the bar of Hershey’s with almonds. Kurt released his hold on the blankets to take it from him. He broke off a piece for himself and a piece for Blaine. They both put the chocolate in their mouth and lay there for a few moments as it melted.
“Mmmm,” Kurt sighed happily.
“How do you feel?” Blaine asked.
“Better, now that you’re here.”
Blaine moved closer, and Kurt allowed room for them to share the pillows. Blaine put his arms around Kurt, surrounding him with a kind of warmth and softness that even Kurt’s favorite quilt(made by his mother) couldn’t match.
“School is no fun without you,” Blaine whispered, playing with Kurt’s unstyled hair.
“Believe me, I’m not having much fun here, either.” Kurt retorted, causing Blaine to laugh. The bed jiggled slightly with the movement.
“My dad probably wouldn’t approve of this…” Kurt added.
“Your dad wouldn’t approve of a lot of things we do,” Blaine said, and Kurt’s hot cheeks got even more color. “And anyway, Finn said your dad was going to be working pretty late today, and Carole’s volunteering until five. We’ve got time.”
“You worked this out pretty well.”
“This is actually an elaborate plan,” Blaine said in a jokingly sinister voice. “I slipped a virus into your morning smoothie, incapacitating you, so I could get you alone.”
“And now I’m bedridden! I can’t even call for help!” Kurt played along.
Blaine let out an evil laugh. “I’ve got you just where I want you!”
The blankets slipped then, displaced by their laughter, letting their heads back out into the light.
“Well,” Kurt said, taking on a new tone, the raspiness an asset. “Feel free to take advantage of me.”
Blaine grinned, and pressed his lips to Kurt’s. The kiss was warm and slow, Kurt’s lips hot with fever. Blaine pressed his hand to Kurt’s neck and the coolness of it made him sigh in contentment. Blaine pulled back for a moment.
“Frankly,” Kurt said with a smile, “This is the best sick day I’ve had in years.”