Kurt stumbled from his room sleepily, rubbing an eye with the heel of his hand. The only problem with this new house was the upstairs bathroom. Not only did he have to walk all the way across the hallway now, but he had to share it with Finn. It was an absolute nightmare.
(But the fact that Finn kept the bathroom well stocked in Finding Nemo Dixie cups made the arrangement a bit more bearable. But Kurt would never admit that.)
Kurt was on his way to use one of those cups now, in fact. He was tired, he was thirsty, and the kitchen was way too far away. Besides, lukewarm water was better for his vocal chords.
As he opened the bathroom door, however, he was met with the sound of retching. Finn was slumped over the toilet, dry-heaving into the basin. All thoughts of water and Dory-covered Dixie cups fled Kurt's mind.
"Finn, are you sick?" He asked stupidly, entering the room. The taller boy nodded weakly, clutching at his abdomen.
"Haven't…thrown up…yet…" He groaned, doubling over at a pain in his stomach. "But I want to."
Kurt kneeled next to Finn, rubbing his back. Finn shuddered violently, a cold sweat breaking out on his face. He heaved into the basin yet again, nothing but pitiful whimpers coming from his mouth.
"Kurt…my tummy hurts…" It was such a simple sentence, but Kurt found it the most endearing thing Finn had ever said. He shifted closer to his brother, rubbing the boy's stomach tentatively. Finn's face relaxed a bit, and he let out a sigh, trembling from weakness.
"Thanks…" He muttered, sending a glance in Kurt's direction. As Kurt made to reply, Finn's eyes grew wide, and the tall boy threw his body over the toilet, heaving. Kurt had to look away, feeling squeamish at the sight of his brother throwing up.
Finn emptied his stomach, then slumped against the side of the bathtub, completely drained. Kurt stood, flushed the toilet, and grabbed a cup (Nemo and his dad) from the sink. Filling it quickly, he handed it to Finn, who drank it gratefully and slowly.
As his brother rehydrated, Kurt dampened a washcloth and used it to mop the sweat from the taller boy's cheeks and forehead. Finn sighed, leaning back against the tub sleepily.
"Come on, you invalid. Let's get you to bed." Kurt murmured, pulling the boy up. Together they stumbled next door to Finn's room, and Finn crawled pathetically into bed, whimpering a little. Kurt pulled up a trashcan to sit next to the bed, then tucked in Finn's covers just the way he liked them.
Pushing back his brother's damp bangs, Kurt kissed Finn on the forehead. The taller boy sighed, then pulled Kurt to sit down on the bed.
"Stay…" He pleaded, grunting as his stomach pained him. "Sing me a lullaby."
"When did you turn three years old, Finn?" Kurt asked, rolling his eyes. The taller boy said nothing, because a second round of vomiting had started, and he was head-deep in the trashcan. Kurt went and found his cup of water, then changed the bags on the trashcan and took the disgusting one downstairs, to the garage where the main trashcan stood.
When he reached Finn's room again, the sick boy had made a little place for Kurt on his bed, pillow and all. Kurt chuckled to himself, the sat next to his brother, brushing back his hair a little.
"Alright…a lullaby, huh? Let's see…" He thought back to when he got sick as a kid, and what his mom would do to make him feel better. Lying down on the pillow, Kurt reached out and started rubbing Finn's stomach, eliciting purr-like sounds from the boy. Closing his eyes, Kurt began to sing.
"Tender shepherd, tender shepherd, let me help you count your sheep…" Finn's eyes fluttered closed, and his grimace relaxed.
"One in the meadow, two in the garden, three in the nursery, fast asleep…" The sick boy snuggled under his covers, a small smile forming on his face.
"Fast asleep…" Kurt kissed Finn's forehead again, then settled back against his pillow humming the rest of the song. Sleep found both of them quickly, and neither stirred for the rest of the night.