For Keika
Kurt felt like one of Rachel Berry's signature animal sweaters—disgusting.
"It's just the common cold," Carole announced, smoothing Kurt's hair down obsessively. "You need rest."
"But Carole—"
"No buts, kiddo." Burt crossed his arms with a sense of finality.
"Dad, today is the release of the 50th Anniversary Edition of My Fair Lady! I can't miss this! It's just a dumb cold!" He threw his legs over the side of his bed and sat up abruptly. He immediately fell back down onto the bed in a daze.
Carole grinned and shook her head. "The congestion is making you dizzy. Lie down."
Kurt puffed out a sigh of defeat and looked up at his father and stepmother disapprovingly. "I hope you realize that this is—" He covered his nose and mouth and sneezed four times. "—unnecessary."
"I'll make you a bed on the couch upstairs so that you can watch TV." Carole scurried off merrily. Being the mother of two teenage boys didn't quite satisfy Carole's "mommy-ing" abilities, so when Kurt or Finn would get sick, she sprung into action.
Kurt looked up at his father. "I really hope she doesn't try to carry me up the stairs."
"Well, it would work better with you than it did with Finn." Burt shrugged.
...
Kurt was glad to have the house to himself. Finn had a Saturday football practice, and Burt and Carole were going to Cleveland to pick up a spare part for a car. Kurt snuggled down into the blankets that Carole placed expertly on the couch and sighed deeply, hoping for sleep to come soon. He closed his eyes, and right before he drifted off completely, he heard the front door open.
He chuckled to himself. Carole just couldn't help herself, could she? He could just imagine the look on his father's face when they were already 20 minutes out and she told him that she couldn't bear the thought of Kurt being sick at home by himself with nobody to take care of him. He loved his stepmother dearly, but she cared too much. He could understand the fuss if he had the flu, but it was just some severe sniffles!
He stretched out on the couch and relaxed again, closing his eyes for the second time, hoping to drift off. He heard steps coming into the room, and he smiled, knowing Carole was probably checking to make sure he hadn't left the couch, or maybe bringing him some soup. He faked sleeping, knowing it would please her.
He felt a gentle hand on his face, and then the feeling of a cool washcloth. Kurt shivered a bit, but it felt good. If nothing else, Carole knew how to sooth a cold.
"Thank you." Kurt whispered.
"You're welcome." Finn's voice replied.
Kurt's eyes popped open. No fucking way. He pulled the covers up to his chin, as though he was naked instead of wearing his usual silk pajamas. "What are you doing home?"
Finn looked puzzled. "Mom texted me to tell me you were sick, so the Beiste let me come home early to take care of you."
"Well, it's appreciated, but I can take care of myself." Kurt was indignant and embarrassed.
"Oh, really?" A smug grin slowly spread across Finn's face. "Because it looked like you were liking me washing your face."
Kurt was becoming increasingly grumpy, but he couldn't deny it. "I want you to know," Kurt said, pointing a finger at Finn, "that if my brain weren't so completely clouded by congestion and cough medicine, I would have something really clever and devastating to say to you right now."
Smiling and pushing Kurt back into a lying down position with one finger, Finn replied, "I know you would. Relax. I'll bring you some warm milk."
...
"What do you wanna do when you grow up?" Finn sat at the end of the couch with Kurt's legs in his lap. Kurt drank his warm milk through a crazy straw—something he scoffed at when Finn brought it to him, but now he couldn't deny his fascination with it. "Like, I mean, do you wanna be a singer, or what?"
Kurt cocked his head to the side, deep in thought. "I'd like to be on Broadway...while simultaneous—" he paused for a moment to sneeze loudly. "—while simultaneously being the editor and creative director of a fashion magazine."
"That sounds like a lot of work." Finn absentmindedly began to give Kurt a foot massage. "Not that I don't think you could do it, because you totally could. You won't forget me when you get famous, right?"
"Of course not!" Kurt laughed. "So, what are you getting for taking care of me?"
"Whaddaya mean?"
Kurt grinned and rolled his eyes. "What is Carole giving you as a reward for taking care of me?"
As Finn opened his mouth to answer, Kurt had a coughing fit. "You need to elevate your head!" Finn bellowed, getting up immediately to look for a second pillow. He was going to run to Kurt's room to grab one off of his bed, but he didn't want to leave Kurt alone. Finally, he pushed Kurt into a sitting position, sat where Kurt's head had been, placed the pillow in his lap, and leaned Kurt back down. Kurt looked up at him.
"Is this not awkward for you?"
Finn shrugged. "Not really. Is it for you?"
Kurt was nonchalant. "I'll get over it."
Finn grabbed the cool washcloth from the table next to the couch and began to wipe Kurt's face again. Involuntary sighs of pleasure escaped Kurt's mouth. "You know, you don't have to do that..." he whispered, his eyes closed.
"You like it." Finn grinned triumphantly.
"Oh, you never answered my question!" Kurt suddenly remembered the whole reason that his head was in Finn's lap to begin with. "What is Carole giving you in exchange for taking care of me?"
Finn's face contorted into a very confused expression—an expression Kurt was used to seeing. "Nothing. She called me at practice and told me that you were home alone with a cold and that I should probably stay away from you. But I know how you are when you're sick."
"Oh, really?" Kurt attempted to sit up, instead ending up scooting back until his back was in Finn's lap with his head on the armrest. "How would that be?"
Finn shifted uncomfortably at the change of positioning. "I don't know. You're just so weak when you're sick, and I didn't like the idea of you having to be here by yourself without anyone here to get you what you need."
"That's really sweet." Kurt was suddenly very aware of how close he was to Finn's face, but he ignored it. He suddenly started coughing again.
"Oh! I'm stupid!" Finn jumped up and ran out of the room. Kurt could hear the back door shut behind him.
"Well. That didn't last long." Kurt said out loud to himself, trying to calm his stomach. It was flip-flopping terribly. Finn had been amazing to him all day, and as much as he tried to convince himself—for his sake—that he was just trying to be a good brother, he had to admit that things were feeling...well, not-so-brotherly. Foot massages? Letting him lay his head in his lap? Wiping his face with that washcloth? His face getting so close...
"I completely forgot about this!" Finn came back in, sliding back into his spot under Kurt's back on the couch. He was holding a bag. "When I was on the way here, I stopped by the store to get you some stuff."
He handed the bag to Kurt, who reached inside. A bag of cough drops. "Thanks." Kurt smiled weakly. "I need these."
Finn was practically bouncing in excitement. "Look what else I got you!"
Kurt reached his hand into the bag a second time and gasped.
"Do you like it? It looked old, and you like old movies so I thought you would like it!"
The DVD case was pink with black flowers, My Fair Lady: 50th Anniversary Edition embossed on the front. Kurt looked at Finn in astonishment. Finn suddenly looked uncertain.
"You don't like it?"
Kurt leaned over and gently pressed his lips to Finn's for just a second. "Thank you."
Finn didn't look ruffled at all by the kiss. "You're welcome." He pulled Kurt all the way into his lap, wrapping his arms around his small frame. "I'm sorry you're sick."
Kurt's mind was going crazy. He didn't know what this meant. He decided not to question it. "I'm not." Finn grinned bashfully. "Wanna watch this movie? It's fabulous."
"Sure." Finn shrugged and put the movie in.
When Burt and Carole arrived home, their boys were both sound asleep on the couch—Finn stretched out with his legs hanging off the end, and Kurt curled up on top of him.
The next week, Finn came down with a nasty cold.