Kurt didn't really remember getting home. It was all a haze after getting into the cab with Blaine, and thinking made his head spin despite the fact that he was lying down. He opened his eyes, squinting against the light that seemed way too bright for eyes. He was in his bed, looking up the ceiling. After a moment, he realised that he was still in his uniform from Sectionals the night before, minus his blazer, shoes and tie, and would have been disgusted with himself if he hadn't felt so ill. His nose was blocked (forcing him to breathe most ungracefully through his mouth) and he could feel a cold sweat on his forehead. He felt hot and thought he'd feel better if he threw up. Kurt closed his eyes and groaned – but it came out scratchy and weak, and made him feel worse.
He heard the door open and close and knew it was his dad. "Hey, Kurt," he said, crouching down next to the bed in order to be level with his son. "Blaine's at the door."
Kurt nearly sat up in surprise. "What time is it?" he croaked.
"Just after one-thirty," his dad responded.
Was it Saturday? Kurt's head ached too much to know, but he forced himself to think. Blaine. At the door.
"Don't let Blaine up," he mumbled. "I'm a mess."
"Not much more than last night when he brought you home from Sectionals," Burt commented.
Kurt sighed and it came out wheezy. "Tell Blaine... thanks," he said eventually.
He heard Burt leave and leaned further into his pillow, drifting off to sleep, when the door opened again.
Kurt was too tired and ill to give it much thought until he felt a hand in his.
"Hey, Kurt," came Blaine's voice; he was speaking softly so as not to overwhelm Kurt's sinuses.
Kurt cracked open an eye. "I told my dad not to let you up," he half-smiled.
"I know." Blaine perched on the edge of the bed, holding Kurt's hand lightly in his own. Kurt could feel it, cool against his burning, skin, and smiled a little. He grabbed into Blaine's hand and held it tight.
The two boys sat in silence for a few minutes, save Kurt's occasional coughs, and Blaine looked at Kurt. He really did look terrible, and Blaine could tell that he was feverish.
"I don't know... how I caught it," Kurt murmured sleepily.
Blaine paused before speaking, distracted by Kurt's uncomfortable frown. "New school, the winter, there's any number of reasons," he said.
Kurt said, "mmm," and altered his position so he was leaning on his side, facing Blaine, but his eyes were shut. The change of the light on Kurt's face made a huge difference; he now looked somehow pale and pink at once. Blaine almost laughed at how dismayed Kurt would be by this if he were able to be.
After a few more minutes, Blaine realised that Kurt had once again fallen asleep, his hand firmly clasping Blaine's. Blaine sighed and rolled his eyes good-naturedly, before leaning on Kurt's pillow next to him.
It didn't feel weird, being inches from Kurt. In fact, it was more than that, it felt... right, somehow. Blaine smiled. Although, he supposed, maybe watching him sleep is a bit creepy. He sat up abruptly, and made to leave, unlinking his fingers from Kurt's. After a moment of consideration, Blaine decided to ignore his common sense: he turned back to Kurt, leant over him, and kissed him on the cheek. Kurt's burning hot skin sent a warmth through Blaine, and he smiled again before heading out the door.
Tomorrow, he promised himself. I'll get over him tomorrow.