Blaine knew that homework was important, especially at a school like Dalton where slacking was not just frowned upon but highly punishable by stern teachers with penchants for making students clap erasers (which was unrealistic since, really, who used blackboards anymore?), but he couldn't seem to get his mind to focus on the Spanish textbook that he had been staring at for the past thirty minutes. He had way too much on his mind. Warblers, family, friends, and even the fact that Dalton had some strange traditions.
He was trying to distract himself from the fact that he hadn't seen Kurt all day, even though on alternate Fridays they usually saw each other at least twice in the halls. He had checked his schedule three times to confirm that, yes, he should have seen Kurt today.
It wasn't that he was obsessed and a little possessive of Kurt. (Lie.)
It wasn't that he automatically became paranoid that he had done something to offend the younger teen. (Lie.)
Really, it was just that he was worried that Kurt was slacking off in his studies, which was frowned upon. (Not exactly a lie, but dancing so far around the truth that it almost didn't count.)
And while he was mentally chiding Kurt for slacking off, he was tapping his pencil methodically against his textbook and glaring at the pages, as if trying to soak up the information written there. Of course he knew at some point he'd just have to suck it up and do something. His options were limited to actually doing homework, texting Kurt something that wouldn't alert him into knowing that Blaine was overthinking his absence, or maybe even just stopping by Kurt's dorm.
"Kurt's sick." Blaine's head snapped up almost painfully quickly, eyes finding David sitting infront of him with an almost bored expression. He stopped tapping his pencil, letting it fall between the pages of his textbook, and waited for his friend to elaborate.
What did it say that he hadn't heard David approach, sit down, nor get his own homework out of his bag? How deep in thought had he been? And how bad was it that it took David to mention Kurt's name for him to acknowledge his presence? Once it became clear that David had said all he intended to say, Blaine cleared his throat.
"What do you mean, sick?" David rolled his eyes, as if hearing the apprehension layered under the calm tone Blaine presented, and shrugged his shoulders.
"Don't really know. Mr. Biggs told me to tell Kurt that pending a nurse's email, he would have his paper deadline pushed back." Blaine nodded, returning his attention to his textbook. Now that he knew Kurt wasn't skipping class nor was he avoiding Blaine, he might actually be able to get some work done.
Not two minutes after starting his homework, Blaine started to pack up his stuff. Really, it was an attempt in vain. Even if he wasn't battling a strange affection (and by strange affection he meant huge crush) for Kurt, he did take his responsibilites as a friend very seriously. And friends looked after one another when one was sick. That was why he was skipping his homework. For now, at least. There was always the weekend to finish it anyways.
"I'm just going to pop in to see if he needs anything really quick, then head to my dorm. I focus better there." Which was not a lie. Not entirely at least. He did focus better in his room. But honestly, there was no way he was just going to pop in to see Kurt. If the teen was sick enough to not be able to make it to classes, Blaine knew he was going to end up staying as long as Kurt needed him to.
"Yea, of course. Pass on Biggs message for me, won't you?" David rolled his eyes at Blaine's furtive nod as he slung his bag over his shoulder and headed out of the library.
He really needed to get his act together. It wasn't that he was avoiding the fact that he had feelings for Kurt, not really. He knew they were there and he just pushed them aside. Although he had it on good authority (Wes and David, although usually ones to pick on Blaine, were always looking out for his best interests) that Kurt might be just as strung out as Blaine was. However he was doing this at a slower pace for a reason. Kurt was somewhere new, surrounded by people that wouldn't bully him but still unable to fully refrain from standing out, and dealing with a lot on his own. Blaine wanted at least one large sign from Kurt, neon with arrows if possible, that said he was ready and willing.
Not that Blaine was being very subtle. He had thrown hints, blatant enough that Kurt had blushed once or twice (not that Blaine was counting), to let him know that he was interested. And he was smart enough to know what Blaine was doing, waiting for Kurt. And it seemed like Kurt was more than fine with that, like he was working at his own pace so that they didn't rush into anything either.
So with a sigh, Blaine knocked on Kurt's door and waited for a response on the other side. When none came, he knocked a little louder. There was a sound that barely carried through the door that had Blaine slowly turning the knob and pushing it open. Kurt's roommate's side of the room looked put together and vacant enough to remind Blaine that Joshua usually went home on weekends. Kurt usually did too, but there had been mention of his parents heading out of town and Finn crashing with someone from New Directions.
On Kurt's bed was a rather deformed lump, which Blaine automatically labeled as Kurt. He shook his head and placed his bag down, shutting the door lightly behind him, and moved to the side of the bed to peer into the little hole that Kurt had created to speak through.
"Siiiiiick." Kurt's voice was nasally and slurred, neither of which gave Blaine great confidence. He leaned his knees agains the edge of the bed and tried to feel out where Kurt's head was in comparison to the lump.
"Kurt? Kurt, can you do me a favor? Maybe wiggle out of your cocoon a bit?" Kurt grunted and at first Blaine thought his request would be ignored, but slowly and surely the blankets started to move and straighten out. Once fully untangled, Kurt poked his face out of the blanket.
His face was flushed, his eyes glassy, sweat beading over his forehead and cheeks, dripping down to his neck. His hair was a complete mess as well. That alone would be a clue that Kurt was sick, if everything else hadn't already screamed it.
Blained reached out a hand to place on Kurt's forehead, frowning deeply at the clammy feel and the heat there. His hand didn't have to be a thermometer to tell him that Kurt was running a high fever. He made his way over to Kurt's bath caddy and grabbed a clean washcloth before heading into the small bathroom that was attached to the room. He turned on the cold water, ringing out the cloth once it was entirely soaked, and turned off the tap as he made his way back to the bedroom. Kurt hadn't moved, although he was now trying to kick off his blankets.
"I'm going to try to cool you off, okay Kurt?" Kurt made a sound that Blaine took as permission and he dabbed the cloth over Kurt's forehead and cheeks. Kurt finally kicked the blankets off and Blaine winced at how sweaty his clothes had gotten. He unbuttoned the cotton pajama top a little, trying to keep some modesty for the ill teen, and dabbed the cloth over Kurt's chest.
This brought back memories of Blaine's mom doing this for him when he had gotten sick when he was little. She has dabbed a cool cloth over him but in the end they had to put him in the bathtub to bring down his fever. His dad had wanted to take him to the hospital but his mom has assured him that all he needed was to cool down and then he could fight the fever on his own.
He had been lost in his memories, dabbing the cloth over Kurt's neck, to the point that he almost missed what Kurt was mumbling. The words were so low that Blaine almost hadn't been able to make them out, but he had been close enough that he could.
"Mom. Mom. Mom." That was all Kurt was saying, repeating the word like a chant, which broke Blaine's heart just a little. Kurt had confided in him a few times about how much he missed his mother. That he would call for her now, while sick and wanting nothing more than comfort, made Blaine bite his lip but continue his minstrations.
Blaine unbuttoned a few more buttons on the pajama top and ran the cloth a little further down the other boy's chest. The skin was flushed with fever and Blaine shook his head, knowing that this washcloth just was not doing enough. This of course brought him back to the memories of his childhood. It might be a little strange but Kurt had to cool off somehow.
Blaine folded the washcloth and placed it on Kurt's forehead before moving into the shower and turning it on. There was just a small lip before the shower and it was really only big enough for someone to stand in, not lie in, so Blaine would have to set him against the wall and have the water poor on him. And he would have to stay there, to make sure he didn't drown. With that in mind, Blaine took off his school blazer and tie, throwing them over Kurt's desk chair, and rolling up his sleeves.
"Kurt? I'm going to take you into the bathroom. You're running a high fever and I'm going to try to cool you down. Is that okay?" Although he wasn't sure Kurt could hear him, or at the least understand him, he still wanted to pose the question. Kurt's only response was to groan, turning his head a little so that the cloth slipped off.
Now came the difficult part. He tucked an arm under Kurt's back and then the other around his hip, slowly pulling the boy's body towards the edge of the bed. Once there, Blaine moved his legs. Kurt was making a lot of noise, clearly not wanting to move, but Blaine was determined. Once Kurt's feet were dangled over the bed, Blaine wrapped an arm around his waist and poised the other to catch him when he pulled him up. Taking a deep breath, he hoisted the slightly taller boy up and wrapped both of his arms around him to steady him. Kurt made a noise and automatically buried his face in Blaine's shoulder.
Blaine stumbled backwards a bit and then slowly moved to shift them so that he could support Kurt's weight and still walk at the same time. It wasn't as easy as he had thought it would be. While moving Kurt to the side, he heard something pass almost coherently through his lips.
"Dad. Dad." Again it became a chant, mumbled and slurred and only coherent due to their close proximity, but it was a lot easier to handle than when he had been asking for his mom. Kurt relied on his dad for everything, just as Burt had relied on Kurt for a lot. Blaine's only interaction with Burt had been short, but long enough to know that he cared for his son to the point of wanting to do anything for him. Including using his honeymoon money to send him to a school where he would be safe.
Blaine mumbled a few soothing words to Kurt, letting out a breath when they reached the bathroom and Kurt stopped asking for his dad. He propped Kurt onto the toilet, after shutting the lid, and slowly undid the pajama shirt. He hadn't thought this part through too well. After pulling he shirt off, he reached down and undid the tie on his pajama bottoms. He had to nearly straddle Kurt so that he would be able to lift him up and maneuver his bottoms down, leaving his underwear on though. Thankfully they were dark in color so transparency in the water wasn't an option.
Once he was clad only in his dark blue boxers and flushed skin, Blaine moved Kurt over to the shower. The curtain was pulled to the side and he tested the temperature of the water before trying to move Kurt forward without getting soaked himself.
Finally in and settled in the corner, Blaine grabbed a washcloth and rubbed it over his chest, back and arms. Kurt was leaning against the wall, his head propped in the corner, the water pouring over him. Blaine was also doing his best to keep his gaze and thoughts in line. It was one thing to want to help a friend. It was another thing to completely perv over his half-naked-fully-drenched-utterly-ill best friend.
"Blaine." His name on Kurt's lips made him stop his movements, watching the boy for any sign that he was no longer in the haze he had been in. Yet it seemed the younger boy's eyes were still glossed over. It was just as when he had called for his mom, just as when he had called for his dad. Only his name was not a chant, spoken only once and in a very small voice.
Blaine let the cool water soak in the washcloth again before running it over Kurt's back, although with it pressed against the tile of the shower he should be cool enough. If this didn't help, and he wasn't really sure how long he should leave him in there, he would call the nurse. And he should probably call Burt, although that wasn't a conversation he was looking forward to.
"Blaine?" The voice was a little stronger and it caused Blaine's eyes to whip up to Kurt's quickly. The glassy look was gone, replaced by confusion. There wasn't much of a flush to his body anymore either, which was a definite plus.
"Welcome back, Kurt." Blaine smiled, relieved that Kurt must be feeling better, and leaned backwards. Now that Kurt was no longer in a haze, Blaine was probably going to have to explain why he was in the shower. Wearing only boxers. With Blaine wiping him down with a washcloth.
Well, it could be worse.
A/N: This was going to be a lot longer. But heeeey, it is what it is. I've got so many story ideas and I just keep writing them down to flush them out and I end up with eight million one shots.
Sick!Kurt and Caring!Blaine and WhatIsSexualTension!Plotline. It's a powertrip I'm on, I swear.
Thank you for reading. You guys are awesome. Every review/favorite/alert is like Christmas.