Sebastian wakes up and realizes he can't breathe. He doesn't know what time it is, only that it's pitch black in the bedroom, and that his nose is completely congested. His throat hurts, too, he discovers when he opens his mouth to take a breath and what comes out is a heavy cough. He groans and slumps back against his pillow, wincing when the movement makes his body ache. Jesus, he couldn't get it in waves, he had to get hit by everything at once.
He squints at the alarm clock on Kurt's side, but he can't make out the numbers without his glasses and he doesn't have enough energy to reach for his phone, so he just burrows himself deeper into the bedding and hopes it's early enough that he'll be able to fall back asleep.
It's a good plan in theory, but in reality—not so much. It takes Sebastian awhile to find a position that lets him breathe at all, and just as he finds it, he gets hit by another cough attack. And, when that finally has settled—Kurt's alarm goes off. Which means it's morning. Which means they have to get up. Leaving the bed is so far off from what Sebastian wants to do that he actually feels a bit dizzy just thinking about sitting up.
Kurt's familiar groan sounds off, and great, the cold has gotten to his fucking ears, too. There's the slapping on the bedside table until he finds his phone, then the second groan when he checks the time and realizes that yes, he still has to get up at 5.45am.
But if your boyfriend is sick, surely you can stay in bed for another five minutes? Sebastian thinks that's perfectly reasonable, so he shuffles on the bed, ignores his aching body, and reaches out to pull Kurt closer. Kurt is not on the same page, though, he just pushes Sebastian's hand away and lets out another groan as he swings his legs over the edge of the bed. Sebastian tries to protest, but he can't even get a whimper out, his throat is too dry. Go figure. He can't even get Kurt to look at him, which probably means he's done something bad he doesn't even know about, and god, does he not have the energy to deal with that right now. Or ever.
Kurt shuffles around the bedroom, getting his stuff, then he leaves, without glancing back at Sebastian. Well, Sebastian guesses he doesn't look back, it's not like he can actually see if he does or not. But, since he doesn't come over to fuss, he probably doesn't look back. Or he does, and he doesn't care that Sebastian is sick and miserable and fuck that makes him even more miserable, his whole body hurts and his boyfriend doesn't even care about him? Sebastian groans, then moans when that hurts, then closes his eyes and just tries to breathe through the pain. He knows he should text his boss while he's still awake, because if he falls back asleep, he surely won't wake up again before he's already too late for work.
He just needs to grab his phone. And face the harsh light of the screen. And type something. Figure out complete sentences. Oh god.
Sebastian gets a high fever sometime around lunch. He has been drifting in and out of sleep the whole morning, and finally migrated to the couch to put on a movie and get some kind of entertainment for his more awake periods. Neither he nor Kurt get sick very often, so the only thing they currently have at home is tissues, and they're almost out. There's tea in the kitchen, too, but that would require Sebastian to move, and stand up, and hold stuff, and coordinate them. He's so not up for that. He knows he should drink something, water at least, and probably eat, too, but—same there. Standing. Holding things. How is he supposed to do that when sitting up gives him vertigo?
He wants Kurt to come home. He hasn't even heard from him, and Kurt usually sends a text during lunch, especially if they haven't seen each other in the morning. The lack of communication enforces Sebastian's belief that Kurt's upset with him, and he still can't figure out why, which only brings him down further. When Kurt eventually does come home, he'll probably be too mad to help Sebastian out, and then he'll refuse to sleep with him, and Sebastian will be forced to spend the night here on the couch, wrapped up in his comforter and the spare one from the closet, and the blanket they keep on the couch. He's cold. He could really use some tea.
Mid-afternoon, Sebastian realizes that if he doesn't eat anything, Kurt might have to bring him into the ER when he gets home tonight. He reaches for the tablet on the coffee table and makes an online order to the thai place two blocks down, then spends what little energy he has left on moving through the apartment to get his wallet. He ends up standing in the hallway, leaning against the door for five minutes while waiting for the order to arrive.
He feels moderately better after eating half of what he usually does, and forcing himself to drink one and a half bottle of water. He makes one exhausting trip to the bathroom, and then he actually manages to fall asleep on the couch.
It's dark again when he wakes up the next time, and he hears Kurt shuffling around in the hall. It was probably the front door that woke him. He hears footsteps, and then Kurt's voice.
"Hey. Oh, wow, you look cozy," he says, and he doesn't sound mad at all. Maybe Sebastian's ears still aren't working. He blinks up at Kurt, and realizes he still hasn't put on his glasses.
"Yeah, well," he says, and shit, he sounds awful. "You wouldn't cuddle." He sounds like a petulant five year-old, and he tops it off with three sneezes in a row.
"What? Honey, I've been at work all day, of course I couldn't cuddle," Kurt says. He kneels down so that his face is level with Sebastian's. "Have you been at work today?" he asks, gently, reaching out to stroke at Sebastian's forehead but pulls his hand back when he sees how clammy he is.
Sebastian glares at him. "What do you think? I felt like shit when I woke up but you didn't even care, you just left for work without even looking at me."
"Sebastian, you're rarely even awake when I get up, and as much as I love seeing you, Ihave seen enough of your sleeping form during the past five years we've been living together," Kurt says, starting to sound amused.
"I thought you were mad at me," Sebastian says, and damn it, he's choking up. "I wanted you to make tea and buy new tissues and cook but you weren't here." His eyes are burning with tears. Fuck it. This is so embarrassing. "And I'm not sad, I just can't breathe, that's why I'm crying," he adds, twisting on the couch until he's on his back, staring up at the ceiling, rather than facing Kurt.
"Aaw, baby," Kurt coos, patting his chest through the covers. "I love you, but you're really disgusting now, so I'm not gonna touch you. I am, however, gonna make you tea, and then I'll run down to the super-expensive supermarket on the corner and buy you the softest tissues, paracetamol, and ingredients for soup. When I get back, I'll help you take a shower so I can touch you again, and then we'll watch a movie, okay?"
Sebastian feels his eyes tear up again. He hates being sick. "I love you," he says.
Kurt smiles. "I love you, too. And I hope you get better soon, because this non-sarcastic side of you is weirdly unsettling."
"I can still cough on you in your sleep," Sebastian threatens, but with the threat of Kurt being mad gone, the last bit of tension leaves him and he suddenly has trouble keeping his eyes open. He just wants to sleep.
"What did you tell your job?" Kurt asks, but he sounds far, far away.
"Text," Sebastian mumbles, and he thinks he lifts his hand to wave at the coffee table, but he's not sure if he succeeds.
Kurt seems to understand him though, because Sebastian can feel him turn, and then he hears a loud bark of laughter that hurts his head.
"It's a good thing you're friends with the people in your office," he says, smile evident in his voice. Sebastian doesn't have time to reflect on that before he's asleep.
Not work tidy nnn mmm sucj
I have no idea what you're on, but I'm guessing you're not coming to work today.