It is a well known fact that when Kurt Hummel is ill, Kurt Hummel avoids contact with the outside world. Instead, he prefers to curl up in his bead and quake in misery, hoping that drowning in his own pity would force him into getting well. Occasionally, his dad or Carole would poke their head into his room to ensure he was still alive, and if Blaine called or texted, he would answer because it's Blaine.
When Kurt was forced to stay home from school (Carole didn't want him to get worse, and going to school and stressing out over midterms would not help), everyone knew not to bother contacting him.
So when Kurt's phone rang, and it wasn't Blaine's obnoxious custom set ringtone, but the default one, he knew that either someone had a wrong number or something was wrong. Kurt grabbed for his phone on his bedside table, frowning when he saw "Incoming call, Tina" flashing on the screen.
"Hello?" he croaked, clearing his throat. "Sorry. Hi, Tina."
"Hey Kurt. How are you feeling?" Tina didn't give him a chance to respond. "Have you talked to Blaine today?" Kurt raised an eyebrow in surprise. Tina's not usually intrusive.
"We texted this morning when I told him that I was missing school, why?" Kurt was getting worried now that he thought about the lack of contact with his boyfriend. He usually came back to Kurt's house after classes ended, so when he didn't show up Kurt had to admit he had been a bit concerned was a bit concerned.
"I don't know Kurt, but we share most of our classes and he just looked like he was on the verge of a breakdown all day. He didn't say a word in glee, either."
Now Kurt was really concerned. Before he even thought about it, Kurt was scrambling out of bed and pulling on the sneakers he wore to booty camp the other day. "Got it. Thanks, Tina. I'll find him and make sure he's okay." In a fury to get to Blaine, he hung up on Tina and dialed Blaine's number, grabbed his keys off the table, yelled, "I'm going out!" to anyone who may be listening, and jumped into his car.
After a few rings, Blaine finally picked up. "Kurt?"
"Blaine, are you at home?" Kurt asked hurriedly, willing Blaine to say yes, that he was home, and he's okay, and oh dear god, Kurt noticed he's still wearing sweatpants and one of Finn's sweatshirts.
"Yea. Did Tina call you?" Kurt winced at Blaine's broken tone. "I'm so lonely, Kurt, and this house is huge and I'm alone."
"I'll be there in a half hour."
"Aren't you sick?" Blaine asked. Kurt laughed, as if that would stop him.
"I'd hardly call the sniffles sick. You're my first priority, anyway. See you soon. Love you, Blaine. Hold tight."
"Love you too, Kurt."
Kurt drove as fast as he could down the highway without getting pulled over. He knew the route and what he could and couldn't get away with. He's probably driven it hundreds of times. The familiar roads to Westerville usually comforted him, but now they just blurred under his car without Kurt even thinking about it.
Kurt kept his eyes firmly on the road, knowing that if he allowed his thoughts to wonder, they would immediately go to worse-case-scenarios. "Oh my god, what if he had another panic attack?" Kurt mutters before he can stop himself. He took a deep breath, steadying his thoughts. Getting into an accident will not help him, he reminded himself sternly.
Finally pulling up at Blaine's, Kurt leaped out of his car and ran up the walkway. He tried the door, grunting in frustration when it was locked and he had to dig out the key Blaine gave him a few months ago. At last, he threw the door open. "Blaine?" he yelled.
He barely heard the muffled, "Up here," coming from Blaine's room. Kurt leaps up the stairs two at a time and sprints down the hallway to Blaine's room, the sound of his sneakers quiet compared to the usual clink of his boots up these stairs.
Then, he freezes.
"Blaine?"
The scene lying before Kurt's eyes was absolutely heartbreaking. Adele was softly streaming out of Blaine's iHome, to which Kurt swore very lightly under his breath. He knew that when Blaine was extremely sad, Adele was his go to music. The only light that was on was the bedside table lamp, and of the shades were drawn, causing an eerie glow. Blaine's hair was in a frizzy mop on his head, meaning he hadn't styled it at all since the last time he washed it. Kurt's heart shattered when he saw the freshly slushie stained pile of clothes on the floor.
The worst part was that Blaine was curled- appearing as tightly as possible- into a fetal position on his bed, face buried into his plaid comforter. Kurt knew he was silently crying, or he wouldn't be hiding his face. Whoever made him feel like this is going to pay, Kurt thinks maliciously, growling the words in his head.
"What's wrong, sweetheart?" he asks instead, carefully approaching his boyfriends, who curls even tighter. "It's just me, Blaine." Blaine visibly relaxes at this, so Kurt decides its okay to lie on Blaine's bed, carefully draping his arm around Blaine's waist. "Tell me what's wrong, okay? I can't help if I don't know how." Blaine stretches from the fetal position.
He finally speaks, but it comes out as a strangled whisper. "I love being the little spoon." Kurt hums in response. "You're helping. Just give me a minute."
After a few silent moments of steady breathing and Adele being the only audible sounds, Blaine speaks again. "When you were at Dalton, did you ever feel like you had no one to turn to?"
Oh.
The realization hits Kurt so hard that he nearly chokes on the breath he was taking. Suddenly, a sob hits Kurt's chest and it takes him a moment to realize that no one was making Blaine cry so hard, and that was the problem. "Everyone hates me!" Blaine cries. "It's just that at school if I have a bad day or I feel sick during class or I get bullied I feel like the only person I can ask for help is you and possibly Tina or Mike and it just hurts!"
"Oh, sweetheart," Kurt mumbles stupidly, because, really, what is he supposed to say?
So he decides to let Blaine cry it out; they can talk later. Kurt gently presses his nose into Blaine's hair, breathing in the familiar, comforting scent of his curl control shampoo. He kisses it. Another breath. This hair is the eighth wonder of the world, Kurt thinks.
When Blaine is finished crying, he grabs a tissue from his bedside table, wipes his eyes, and flips over, finally letting Kurt see for the first time how much of a mess he is. "Sorry," he mumbles.
"For what?" Kurt asks, even though he knows the answer.
"Breaking down."
"You should never apologize for feeling things, Blaine. It's good for you. You shouldn't have to feel like you need to hide your emotions."
Blaine shrugs. "I know, but you're sick and-"
"Stop. I'm completely fine. I mean, this morning I was feeling a bit off, but I really didn't have to stay home from school." That was a lie, earlier Kurt was completely miserable, but he was feeling better now that he was with Blaine.
"You're not ever alone, okay? Never." Blaine sighs, but whether it's from agitation or contentment, Kurt can't tell. A hint of a smile plays at Blaine's lips as Kurt kisses away the last of the tears. "I love you," he breathes.
"I love you more," Blaine argues.
Kurt only chuckles. "Let's not have this argument. I'm too tired." They lay in silence for almost a half hour, breathing quietly; the Adele playlist having run out a while ago. Not wanting to disturb the peace, Kurt whispers so quietly he can barely hear it. "I wish we could stay this way forever."
Blaine only hums in response. "It's getting late, Blaine," Kurt says sadly. "I should go."
Blaine's grip on Kurt's hip tightens. "No," Blaine murmurs into his boyfriend's neck, planting a few kisses. "Sleep with me."
"Not tonight, sweetie. I don't want to get you sick."
Blaine pulls back, grinning. "I meant that in the literal sense. Just sleep with me. I'm too warm and content to let you go."
"Oh." Their breathing harmonizes again. "Well in that caseā¦"
Blaine huffs. As much as he misses Dalton, he knows in the back of his mind that as long as he's with Kurt, he is home.
