Happy Saturday!

I bet you're all happy it's time for the weekend. It's been a stressful week for a lot of reasons, for a lot of people. So let's just sit back and relax for the next few days :)

Thank you so so so much for your comments on the last chapter. I appreciate that you take the time to do so. It helps keep my motivation alive.

Thank you, Christine, for being the best beta I could ever ask for :)

Enjoy!

By Saturday, Burt Hummel had finally reached Pain in the Ass status, and Kurt couldn't be happier about it. He wanted his father to annoy him, to be stubborn, to be difficult. He wanted him to fight him on every little thing, from not being allowed to eat bacon to not being allowed to get out of bed. He wanted him to be loud and irritating, to constantly push Kurt's patience and limits.

Because if he was being a pain in the ass, it made it even more evident that he was alive and well.

The first thing Burt began complaining about, though, had nothing to do with food or any of the restrictions the doctor had come up with for him. "You cannot sleep on a chair anymore, Kurt. Not when you have a perfectly good bed at home waiting for you."

His voice was still a little rough, and his skin lacked a bit of color, but otherwise, he was okay. He was still a bit weak from the coma and the heart attack, so he would need to stay at the hospital for at least another week. He was also not happy about that.

"I don't want you to be alone," Kurt replied, because he could also be stubborn. "What if you need anything?"

"I can call a nurse. It's their job," Burt retorted. "Yours has been neglected enough while you sat next to me. You look exhausted. Go home."

The idea of sleeping in a bed, with his fresh sheets and comfy pillows, actually made Kurt's mouth water a bit, as opposed to the idea of going home to an empty apartment, which he wasn't so thrilled about. But Burt wouldn't have it any other way, and he became impossible to argue with, because he got winded, and his heart rate sped up, which was exactly what Kurt wanted to avoid. So in order to avoid his father's blood pressure from rocketing, he had to agree to his demands, and began going home at the end of the day.

In the end, Kurt had to admit that it had been a great idea, not only because he was rested and in a better mood – though that might have to do with his father being awake and on his way to a full recovery – but also because it allowed him to get back to work. Every evening, he would go back to his apartment, order dinner, and work at his sewing machine as he waited for the delivery man. Once he had finished dinner, he went back to working for a couple more hours, until he fell into bed exhausted. He would wake up the next morning, shower and have coffee, work for another hour or two, and then head to the hospital. It was a slower rhythm than he was used to, but it meant that he didn't have to cancel on any of his clients. He just needed to be quicker and more efficient.

His life was starting to fall back into place, even if it still needed some getting used to.

He had also started seriously looking for furniture to finally fill his ransacked apartment. As soon as Burt was released, he would come stay with him for a few weeks, until he was okay enough to be on his own in Ohio. Kurt was willing to give up his bed for him – he would give up his life for him – but needed a couch to sleep on. And he couldn't have his dad sit on the floor to eat, even if some cultures considered it the best option. He needed a table, and chairs, and all sorts of things that he had lost when he lost his boyfriend.

It was a lot to balance, but Kurt was happy to be busy, because it kept him from thinking about the empty side of his bed, about the man who had left him and was probably in Chicago now, and about the men he had met at the hospital and changed his life. One in particular, with honey eyes and a gentle smile, who insisted on filling his life with flowers and coffee.

Just thinking of him made his heart race, so Kurt kept pushing the thought down, down, down, so he could deal with it later, when life was less crazy.

On Sunday afternoon, Kurt was returning to his dad's room after stepping out to the courtyard to talk to Rachel, who had finally found enough phone signal to check in with him. She shrieked in his ear in happiness when he told her his dad was awake, and listening to her voice had been as nice as standing in the sun for a while, letting his pale skin soak it all in. It was getting warm, with summer just around the corner.

As he passed by the nurses' station, still thinking about Rachel, who was enjoying a day off at some beach in the Caribbean, and trying not to be too jealous, he saw Blaine turning away to walk towards his brother's room, leaving a trail of gushing nurses in his wake, all of them holding flowers and burying their noses into the bouquets to breathe in the scent.

Their eyes met over the flowers Blaine still had in his arms, and the smile that broke his face in two was shining brighter than any sun on any beach, and Kurt decided he would much rather soak up all that warmth instead. Let Rachel keep the sun – he had something much nicer right here.

Well, he didn't have anything, but...

Oh, his stupid heart was beating so loudly it made a mess of his thoughts.

"Hey you," he said, and he almost groaned at how flirty his greeting sounded.

Blaine probably didn't notice, or didn't care, because his expression didn't change. "Hey."

"You know, you're going to be out of business if you keep giving all those flowers away for free," Kurt teased, leaning in a little closer to smell the lovely light yellow roses Blaine was carrying, and that was the only reason.

A little blush painted Blaine's cheeks, and he ducked his head for a moment, before looking back at Kurt. "I don't mind. They're all so nice to Cooper, and me, so they deserve it." They stopped at his dad's room, and Blaine put two of the bouquets of roses in Kurt's arms. "And so are you."

"I thought these were for my dad," Kurt murmured. Blaine spluttered for a moment, as if at a loss for words, and his cheeks were burning so bright, Kurt took pity on him. "Speaking of whom, I haven't introduced the two of you yet." He gestured towards the door. "Do you have time now? It'll be just a minute."

"Oh, I..." Blaine said, and Kurt had no idea why he looked so nervous. "Of course. I would love to meet your dad."

"Come on," Kurt pushed the door open and walked inside, Blaine following close behind. "Dad? There's someone I'd like you to meet."

Burt took his eyes away from the television, where he had been watching a football game. He reached for the remote and turned the volume down. "Well, who do we have here?"

Kurt carefully placed his two bouquets down on the armchair, and then the two Blaine was still holding. He grabbed Blaine's hand to bring him closer to the bed, not missing the way his dad's eyes glanced down at them. He let go immediately.

"This is Blaine," he said, feeling a little giddy, even though he couldn't explain why. "Blaine, this is my dad, Burt Hummel."

"Mr. Hummel, it's so nice to meet you," Blaine said, his tone and posture so proper that it almost made Kurt laugh at how formal he was being. He extended his hand towards his dad. "I'm so glad you're doing better. How are you feeling?"

"I'm good, thank you. Ready to go home," Burt replied, as he shook Blaine's hand. "My son tells me you and your brother have kept him sane all these days."

"Oh," Blaine's lovely honey eyes widened a bit. He seemed ready to blush again. "I... I don't know about that, sir..."

"That's exactly what they did," Kurt interrupted, leaning against his father's bed next to Blaine. "Especially Blaine here. He kept me fed and distracted, and kept me company when I thought I was going to go insane."

"Kurt..." Blaine murmured, and it was so similar to the way he had said his name back at his apartment that it sent a shiver down Kurt's back. They just looked at each other for a few long, long seconds, almost forgetting they weren't alone. "You do the same for me."

It was Kurt's turn to blush, and he felt himself scooting closer to Blaine, although his body seemed to be moving out of its own accord.

Burt cleared his throat, breaking the little spell that had settled on them, and Kurt moved back, while Blaine's cheeks looked ready to catch fire. ""How is your brother doing, Blaine? Kurt told me he's doing chemo. That's tough."

Blaine's face sobered immediately. "Yes, sir. He has sessions twice a week. It leaves him tired and sick, but we're confident it'll be good for him in the end, even if it's horrible to go through."

"If there's anything me or Kurt can do for you or your brother, you don't hesitate on telling us, okay?" Burt said. "You had my son's back. Now we have yours."

Blaine seemed speechless for a moment, and when he finally spoke, his voice was a little rough. "Thank you, Mr. Hummel." He looked away, trying to compose himself. "Uhm, I should do something about those flowers..."

He excused himself and went into the bathroom to get fresh water for their new flowers. Kurt felt his father's hand slip into his own, giving it a firm squeeze to get his attention. He looked down at him, one eyebrow raised in question.

"I like him," Burt muttered in a quiet voice. "Let's keep him and his brother around, okay?"

There was a sort of tickle somewhere in Kurt's stomach. He tried to ignore it and nodded down at his father instead. "Okay," he agreed.

The next day, Kurt thought that there were things that hurt so badly, they knocked the air right out of his lungs. One of those things had been seeing his dad unmoving in a hospital bed, with no certainty of whether he would open his eyes and look at his son again (god, thank you, thank you for looking at me again).

Another one was seeing Cooper, weak and miserable, collapsing on the floor of his room in a puddle of his own vomit, his skin grey and his eyes sunken.

"Oh god," Kurt said, as he pushed the door to his room open and rushed inside to help Blaine, who was trying to keep his brother upright. "What happened?"

"We couldn't make it to the bathroom," Blaine explained, his voice sharp, his expression taut. "Can you help me get him to the shower?"

Kurt placed the cups of coffee and tea he had picked up before heading to Cooper's bedroom on the nightstand, and hurried to stand on Cooper's left side as Blaine stood at his right. They put his arms around their shoulders for better support and slowly dragged him to the bathroom, which proved a difficult task because Cooper barely moved his feet. The smell in the room was foul, enough to turn Kurt's stomach.

"I'm so sorry," Cooper muttered in a low, ragged voice. Kurt's heart clenched painfully when he noticed the tears trailing down his cheeks. "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, Coop," Blaine said, sounding on the verge of tears himself. "It's not your fault."

"I'm sorry," Cooper repeated, his head falling onto Kurt's shoulder.

Kurt turned his own head enough to plant a kiss on his forehead. "You did nothing wrong, sweetie."

As Kurt held him, he felt Cooper's bones through his thin shirt. He had lost a lot of weight in the past few days.

Carefully, they placed him into the shower, and Blaine moved to undress him. Kurt paused for a moment, put his hand to Blaine's back in silent support and said: "I'm going to get someone to clean up. I'll be back in a minute. Let me know if you need help."

He closed the door behind himself to give Cooper some privacy, and his heart dropped right to the floor when a broken sob reached his ears, while Blaine shushed him quietly, doing his best to mend all the pieces of Cooper that laid scattered before him.

Once the room was clean, and so was Cooper, lying in his bed, spent and falling instantly asleep, Kurt grabbed Blaine's hand to pull him outside to the hallway. Blaine was shaking, his compact but strong frame feeling so unsteady as Kurt wrapped his arms around him, wishing this was enough to keep him together.

Blaine buried his face in the crook of his neck, his tears wetting the collar of Kurt's shirt, holding onto him for dear life.

Kurt breathed him in, his scent sweeter and more intoxicating than any flower, and did not think about how perfectly Blaine fit into his arms. He did not think about how he wanted to heal every wound with the graze of his lips, the touch of his hands on Blaine's perfectly tanned skin. He did not think about all the ways in which he could distract Blaine from his pain. None of that mattered now, not even the way Kurt's stomach felt ticklish again, how his heart was pounding on his chest so loudly, he was afraid Blaine could actually hear it.

He simply held him, and let Blaine cry.

Sometimes that was all you could do.

Later that night, once things had calmed down a little, Blaine went out to pick up some dinner. He had hesitated, clearly not wanting to leave Cooper, but Kurt promised to stay with him until he returned. It was obvious Blaine needed the fresh air, a little break from these hospital walls and all the hurt they held. Burt was already dozing off, having eaten the dinner the nurses brought him ("It tastes like rubber, Kurt"), so Kurt moved into Cooper's room and sat on the chair next to him.

He still looked pale and exhausted, but he found a smile for Kurt when he came into the room. They didn't talk about the incident that had ocurred that afternoon – Kurt guessed Cooper was too ashamed to bring it up.

They talked for a while – Kurt coming up with various topics to keep him distracted – the television playing Will and Grace reruns in the background ("I would have been a great Will, just saying" Cooper said).

"So how are you?" Cooper asked after a while. "You know, with the break up and everything. Are you doing okay?"

"Oh," Kurt whispered, feeling a little surprised. He leaned back on his seat, thinking about his answer. "You know, I'm okay. I think that if this had happened at some other point, when I wasn't so worried about my dad, I would have been completely wrecked. I really did love him. He was a good boyfriend, at least until he decided to move to Chicago without talking to me about it."

"That was really shitty," Cooper commented, making Kurt chuckle.

"Yeah, it was," Kurt agreed. He sighed. "It's weird, because I don't miss him. I thought I would. I do miss having someone to come home to. I hate waking up alone..." He looked back at Cooper, found him staring back at him, and rolled his eyes. "Sorry. Why am I boring you with this?"

"I am definitely not bored," Cooper said, tilting his head back against the pillow with a little grin on his face. "I'm very interested."

"Oh yeah?" Kurt murmured teasingly. It was nice to see him smile, even if it was a little faded. "And why is that?"

There was a mischievious glint in Cooper's eyes. "Well, Kurt Hummel. I have an idea."

"What kind of idea?" Kurt asked, warily.

Cooper's face lit up in a way that made Kurt regret he had asked at all.

What do you think Cooper's idea will be? :D

You'll have to return on Tuesday to read the next chapter and find out.

Have the best day ever. Thanks for reading!

Love,

L.-