"Hey guys…Blaine, you were awesome! When you kicked the piano bench I…Oh, wow, you look sick. Are you okay?"
It took a shocking amount of energy to turn around and acknowledge Sam's arrival, pausing his pep talk with Tina to offer Sam a tired smile. "Thanks," Blaine said. "I can't seem to shake this cold."
"You should be home, in bed," Sam told him and raised a big hand, placing it on Blaine's forehead. "You've got a fever."
Enjoying the cool touch, Blaine replied, "The show must go on. Had to sing my song."
"Blaine is a consummate professional," Tina offered from behind him. "He wouldn't let something like a cold keep him from the stage."
"And that's cool, but not healthy," Sam stated simply. "C'mon, Blaine, I'll take you. You need sleep, ginger ale and someone to look after you. Lucky for you, I have loads of experience."
A feeling of warmth that had nothing to do with his fever bubbled up in Blaine's chest. "You're going to take care of me?"
No one had done that since he'd gotten too old to justify having a nanny.
Sam nodded and took Blaine's school bag, slinging it over his own shoulder. "Of course," he said easily, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world and closed Blaine's locker.
As Sam laid a hand on his shoulder, steering him around to face the exit, Blaine saw Tina's unhappy face. She was worried too, like Sam, and Blaine tried to give her smile, because he knew how lucky he was to have such wonderful friends like the two of them. "See you tomorrow, Tay-Tay."
"Bye Tina," Sam added, giving her an encouraging grin. "You're gonna rock whatever number you choose!"
She gave them both a pinched smile and Blaine let Sam lead him out to his car, legs feeling heavier with every step.
He stumbled a little on the stairs and Sam wrapped an arm around him, steady, secure and warm, a sorely needed comfort.
Once home, Blaine found himself bundled into bed, clad in comfy, flannel pajamas, a tray of chicken soup, tea and ginger ale resting on his bedside table. He was contemplating the package of NyQuil and the VapoRub Tina had given him and decided to take two pills before Sam reentered the room with a fresh box of tissues and a wet face cloth in a bowl of water, setting them down on the table as he sat by Blaine's side.
Just as promised, Sam had fussed over him and, though he was still feeling pretty darn awful, Blaine let himself enjoy the attention. The cool cloth touching his face was a surprise, but Blaine leaned into the contacts as Sam gently bathed his face before moving down to his neck. His pajama shirt prevented the cloth from dipping below is collarbones and Blaine tried to subtly open a button or two to encourage further ministrations.
It felt so good on his hot skin.
Either the cold or the cold medicine (or both) had robbed him of the ability to be subtle and Sam noticed his fumbling attempts at the buttons. "Here," he said, setting the cloth back in the bowl and nimbly undoing the small buttons, spreading Blaine's shirt open.
The flush on Blaine's face could only be partially attributed to his cold as he lay back against his pillows, allowing Sam to run the cool cloth over his chest and belly. Between the chill of the water and the drag of nubby cotton over his nipples, Blaine shivered and Sam quickly wrapped up the wipe down, pulling Blaine's shirt closed and suggesting, "You should eat a little soup."
Blaine nodded listlessly and struggled upright. Sam shifted to sit right beside him, hip to hip, and pulled the tray of soup over on to Blaine's lap, keeping up a running commentary about some Iron Man 3 photos he'd seen on Tumblr. After about half of the soup and tea, Blaine was feeling more than a little drowsy and was only half aware of slumping back against Sam, who wisely set the tray aside.
"You wanna lie down now?"
"Mmmno," Blaine murmured unhappily, eyes falling closed. "You're warm. Don't wanna get cold again."
Sam chuckled. "Fair enough," he agreed and Blaine found insulting shifted into a prone position, still pressed against Sam, his head on the blonde's shoulder, firm bicep cradling the back of his neck. "Oh,hey, VapoRub. This stuff is good. You want any?"
Feeling Sam plucked a little tub up from where it lay by his leg, Blaine mumbled, "'Kay."
The menthol rub was cool, but since touch was nice, gentle, sure and soothing.
Warm and as comfortable as he could be given how sick he felt, Blaine sighed and relaxed into sleep, secure and safe in the knowledge that Sam was there looking after him.