Fic: Baby I'll Be Your Cure
Title: Baby I'll Be Your Cure
Author: gameboycolor
Betas: truthaboutglee, blueb1rd
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
Spoilers: None
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Sickfic, blowjobs
Length: ~3800
Summary: From the GKM. Blaine has a sick day, and Kurt doesn't intend to let him spend it alone.
"I'm not sick," Blaine protests. It would be reassuring, had his words not been punctuated by a sneeze. It's been a slow build, sneezes and coughs increasing steadily over the past week. Blaine is a pro at chugging orange juice and insisting it will pass, that he doesn't get sick.
Blaine is too busy to get sick. It’s not scheduled.
But this morning, he refuses to leave the bed. He claims to be building a cocoon of blankets, and that he will emerge as a butterfly of perfect health.
"Of course you're not," Kurt says, rolling his eyes. "It's just allergies, right?"
"Right." Blaine says shortly before burrowing further under the covers. "Just leave me here to die. I feel like a snot monster. A snot monster who isn’t sick."
Kurt sits down beside the Blaine shaped lump on the bed. "My snot monster, though."
"So romantic."
"I could stand to miss a class or two today, if you really needed me," Kurt offers.
Blaine pokes his head out at this. "Don't tempt me."
Kurt takes stock of his boyfriend's bloodshot eyes and bedhead. He's sure Blaine could fend for himself. A childhood full of mostly absentee parents has made him a bit of a pro at that.
But he doesn't have to anymore, regardless of whether he can or not.
“I could miss an entire day of classes,” Kurt continues, pressing his palm to Blaine’s warm forehead. Blaine leans into the touch, and his face finally begins to relax. “But only if you want me to.”
“I want you to,” Blaine says in a rush. “I really, really want you to.”
Kurt brushes Blaine’s curls off of his forehead. He needs a haircut, but Kurt will save the lectures for when he’s feeling better. “He changes his tune so quickly,” he teases. “You must feel like death.”
“This is the first time I’ve been sick in this apartment,” Blaine pouts. “I’m not used to the creaks and apartment sounds and I’m worried I might mistake them for monsters.”
“That is... a legitimate concern,” Kurt nods. His lips curl into a smile. “Wait, I thought you said that you weren’t sick.”
“Shut up. The snot to brain ratio inside of my skull is making me delirious.”
Kurt shakes his head, barely restraining the urge to chuckle at his ill boyfriend. “Does the little caterpillar need tea?”
“He does,” Blaine sniffs. “But no preference. I can’t taste anything. It all tastes like snot.”
“So that quiche I had you try last night?”
“Snotlicious.”
“You sicken me,” Kurt groans.
“Apparently not,” Blaine points out. “Or you’d be curled up in misery too.”
“But then who would take care of your pathetic ass?”
Blaine makes a small noise of consideration. “The cute neighbor. Definitely the cute neighbor.”
“The one with the yorkies or the one with the running shorts?”
“Yorkie guy.”
“I’m not sure whether to be jealous or compliment you on your excellent taste.” Kurt pulls Blaine up by his shoulders are proceeds to tug off his worn Dalton sweatshirt.
“Skipping classes for sex?” Blaine says with a sly grin. “Mr. Hummel, what has gotten into you?”
Before Kurt can answer, Blaine erupts into a coughing fit. Kurt rubs his back and whispers reassuring nonsense in his ear. It sounds painful, and by the end of it, Blaine is left clutching his ribs.
“I’ll get the Vicks after you take a shower,” Kurt says, nudging Blaine’s shoulder lightly.
“I don’t want to move,” Blaine groans. “Moving is bad.”
“You’ll feel better.”
Blaine juts out his bottom lip and looks up at Kurt with his big, stupid, hopeful eyes. Usually it works, but -
“I wouldn’t make you move if I didn’t know what was best for you.”
“Can we make it a bath instead?” Blaine asks. “I’ll even let you wash my hair.”
Kurt gently runs his free hand through Blaine’s curls, still rubbing his back lightly with the other hand. “You say that like it’s a treat for me.”
“You love washing my hair,” Blaine insists.
He loves the appreciative noises Blaine makes, but he’s not going to tell him that. Besides, he’s pretty sure Blaine already knows.
“I love making you happy,” he says instead. “So, yes, I’ll run the bath.”
Kurt is barely off the bed before Blaine’s burrowing back under the covers. He knows it will take some coaxing to get him back out of bed, but he figures he deserves a few minutes of rest.
He sets off to the bathroom, wincing at the wreckage that awaits him. It seemed as though Blaine had felt the need to take everything out of the medicine cabinet in his quest for Dayquil. Apparently from there, the blister packaging had outsmarted him, so he had taken a pair of scissors to it in frustration.
Kurt rolls his eyes fondly as he tidies up the mess. Once the vanity is back to its usual condition, he runs the taps to get Blaine’s bath ready. Not too hot, but not the overwhelming disappointment that comes with a lukewarm bath either. He grabs some of Blaine’s ridiculous bubblegum scented bubble bath from the shower caddy and dumps a liberal amount under the running water. Normally Kurt can’t stand the smell, but he’ll make the sacrifice to get Blaine feeling better.
Perhaps the hot bath will open up his sinuses. Blaine sounds a bit like a duck, and as adorable as it is, Kurt knows he can’t feel comfortable like that.
“Blaine!” he calls over the sound of the running water. “Your bath is ready!”
“Blaine is hibernating,” Blaine shouts back. Kurt tries not to wince at the strained quality of his voice. “Try again later.”
“I can carry you, you know,” Kurt says, peeking out the bathroom door to address the Blaine-shaped lump on the bed. “It won’t be fun for either of us, but I can.”
Not even a minute later, Blaine shows up in the doorway with the comforter from this bed wrapped around his shoulders like a cape. He has nothing on but a pair of threadbare pajama pants, but the effect is more adorable than anything else.
“I was cold,” Blaine offers as an explanation.
“Why did bringing the bed with you seem like a logical solution?”
“Because I was cold,” he repeats.
Kurt smiles and makes a mental note to toss the comforter in the wash when Blaine is settled in the bath. The last thing he needs is to be wrapped in a germy blanket. He then runs his hand under the tap to check the temperature before gesturing to Blaine to come over.
“C’mon, I even used that bubblegum stuff you love so much.”
“It smells like my childhood,” Blaine says dreamily as he drops the blanket and kicks off his pajama pants and leaves them in an undignified heap on the floor. Kurt won’t scold him this time, because he knows he’s not feeling well.
Kurt appreciates the sight of his naked boyfriend just as much as he did the first time, if not more so now. But he’s in caretaker mode. He’s not even sure if Blaine would be up for fooling around.
That doesn’t mean he isn’t going to admire him. The way his muscles shift as he sinks into the tub. The bubbles stick to his chest in a way that is both adorable and dorky as all get out. His face starts to relax, aside from the occasional sniffle and harsh sounding cough.
“You smell like a playground, B.” Kurt scrunches his nose. “Boy sweat and bubblegum.”
“I should bottle it. Sell it. We’d be millionaires.” Blaine tips his head back into the studs so Kurt can get to his hair. He knows Blaine will need a good clarifying shampoo when he’s back to feeling human again, but this is more about comfort than practicality. “We can call it Playground Dreams.”
“No one wants to smell like a seven year old. Besides, that sounds really creepy.”
Blaine hums his agreement as Kurt sets to work on washing his hair. He smooths a liberal amount of Bumble and Bumble Curl Conscious through his locks, letting his fingers scratch Blaine’s scalp as he works the shampoo into a lather.
“Make me a mohawk.”
“Mohawks or head scratches?”
“Head scratches,” Blaine sighs happily. “Definitely head scratches.”
“That’s what I thought,” Kurt says. His fingers move down to scratch at the shorter hairs at the nape of Blaine’s neck, and Blaine all but moans in response.
“Cheater.”
“How am I cheating?”
“That’s awesome spot number seven. I would give away our pin number on account of awesome spot number seven.”
Kurt presses a quick kiss to Blaine’s neck. “I feel so secure about our financial future.”
“We will literally have dryer lint and a nickel in the bank after this next rent check goes through,” Blaine says. “I’m thinking of selling my body.”
“You will do no such thing!” Kurt gasps. “And besides, no one wants a snotty blowjob. It’s just gross.”
“I’ll show you gross.” Blaine reaches out and tries to grasp Kurt’s shoulders to tug him into the tub. All he accomplishes is getting Kurt’s shirt wet.
Kurt sighs and unbuttons his shirt in order to remove the now dampened material. “And what exactly did you think that would accomplish?”
“I thought I’d get you into the tub. And sex.”
“The tub is too small. We’ve tried.”
Shower sex, Kurt has learned, sounds hotter than it actually is. In reality, it is an adventure in balance and using adequate amounts of lubrication. It’s not worth it, especially when they have a perfectly good bed in the next room.
“I know,” Blaine says mournfully. “But a boy can dream.”
Kurt is now left in nothing but his undershirt, thanks to Blaine’s shenanigans. It’s probably for the best, because he was going to get splashed eventually. He grabs the empty pitcher on the side of the tub and runs it under the tap in order to rinse the shampoo out of Blaine’s curls.
He gently grasps Blaine’s chin and tips it back as he tips the pitcher out over Blaine’s head. Once he’s satisfied that he’s rinsed most of it out, Kurt begins to work the conditioner through Blaine’s curls. They can get a bit unruly when left to their own devices.
“You ready to get out after this?”
“My fingers aren’t pruny yet,” Blaine whines. He sounds less congested.
“Five minutes ago you were trying to get bathtub sex, and now you’re acting like a little kid.”
Blaine pouts.
Kurt leans in to kiss his pout away. He tastes like soap and cherry cough syrup. When he pulls back, he smiles. “If you get out of the tub, I’ll get the vapor rub.”
“I don’t know...”
“I’ll raise you a backrub and two hours of reality television.”
“Maaaaybe.”
“Blaine,” Kurt says sternly.
“Fine, but only if we can watch the Bachelorette.”
Kurt shrugs. “Doesn’t matter to me, I won’t be watching.”
“That sounds... foreboding?”
“You’ll see.”
He repeats the process of rinsing the conditioner out of Blaine’s hair, making sure to leave some of the rinse in. He figures the leftover conditioner will do a bit of damage control. There’s no way Blaine has the patience to let Kurt fuss with his hair today, and he doesn’t want to deal with his boyfriend finding a bad tangle on one of his locks. He always whines and threatens to cut them out himself when it gets this long.
After pulling the drain out of the tub, Kurt fetches one of the fluffy robes hanging on the towel rack. It’s one of those small indulgences that lets them pretend they’re living in one of the nicest hotels in the city instead of their cramped apartment.
Blaine slips into the robe and Kurt starts toweling off his hair. Halfway through, he lets out another pathetic sounding cough.
“Aww, baby. Want me to get the Vicks?” Kurt asks
Blaine nods and lets out a small hum of affirmation.
“C’mon,” Kurt tugs his arm lightly and guides him out of the bathroom. “Next stop on the Kurt Hummel caretaking tour, our bedroom.”
When they step back into the bedroom, Kurt instructs Blaine to sit on the loveseat in the corner of the room so he can strip the bed.
“Won’t you just have to change them again after I stop being sick and gross?” Blaine asks. He’s curled up in the oversized robe looking painfully adorable, in Kurt’s opinion.
Kurt sticks his tongue out in concentration as he fusses with the fitted sheet. “Well, yes, but the last thing you should do when you’re sick is lay back in a germy bed. I bet you blew your nose on the topsheet.”
“Only once,” Blaine admits sheepishly.
Kurt narrows his gaze.
“Maybe twice?” He holds his hands up in surrender. The ends of the robe almost cover them completely. “I was running out of tissues!”
“No big deal,” Kurt shrugs as he finishes putting new sheets on the bed. “There have been worse things on our sheets. I just wanted to give you a hard time.” He pats the newly made bed for Blaine to join him on it. “All clean!”
“A clean Blaine in a clean bed,” Blaine chirps happily as he bounces on the bed a little. “Yay.” He claps his hands together. “Would it be too much to ask you to get my pajamas?”
“Not yet,” Kurt smiles up at him and he strokes his fingers over the knot of where Blaine’s robe is tied.
“But I need clothes, Kurt,” Blaine pouts. “And I dun’ wanna get up.”
“I said not yet,” he repeats as he works the knot open.
“Ohh,” Blaine says.
“Being sick makes you so slow, baby,” Kurt coos.
“I’ve always been a little slow to get with the program,” he shrugs as Kurt pushes the robe off Blaine’s shoulders to expose his chest.
Kurt grabs the container of Vicks that he had tossed to the side earlier and twists off the cap. When Kurt catches his eyes, Blaine is frowning.
“I thought that sound was something more fun,” he admits.
“You asked for the Vicks,” Kurt points out.
“That I did.”
Blaine still looks disappointed as Kurt works the Vicks between his palms. “Babe, did you want something else? I could make tea, or soup...” The refrigerator is a little bare these days, but he’s sure he can come up with something.
“I...” Blaine starts. “I want...”
Kurt smooths the Vicks across his chest and at the base of Blaine’s throat. He doesn’t miss the way Blaine leans into the touch. His lips are parted and his eyes are focused on the nimble work Kurt’s fingers are up to.
It would be positively alluring if Blaine wasn’t a sniffing, sneezing mess.
“Mm?” Kurt hums.
“I want you,” Blaine whimpers.
“Maybe when you’re feeling better, sweetie,” Kurt tells him. He wipes the excess on Blaine’s shoulders and gives them a small squeeze. They feel tense, so he starts kneading at the muscle beneath his fingertips. He must have slept funny. Kurt remembers waking up at odd hours to Blaine’s coughing fits.
“I’ll want you then, too,” he says.
“Of course you will,” Kurt tells him sweetly.
“I hate when you’re all... condescending and Kurt-like.”
“Kurt-like?”
“It’s a thing. It’s totally a thing.”
“Well, I’d hope so,” he smiles. “Because, I am Kurt. Being Kurt-like is kind of part of the deal.”
“All I wanted was a sympathy blowjob. My dick doesn’t have a cold.”
“That is perhaps the weirdest argument you’ve ever made.”
That doesn’t mean that Kurt isn’t considering it. Maybe a bit of post-orgasm haze and a dose of Nyquil is all Blaine needs to get back to sleep and recharge.
“Will you go to sleep after?” he asks.
“Yes, Mom,” Blaine groans.
“Oh my god,” Kurt rolls his eyes as he put the Vicks to the side and opening the bottom half of Blaine’s bathrobe. “No talking about your Mom while I’m anywhere near your dick.”
“I didn’t know that was a rule.”
“It doesn’t have to be, it’s a common courtesy.” Kurt places a hand on Blaine’s chest, urging him to lean back. “C’mon, lay down. I got you.”
Blaine complies, but he still leans up on his elbows to watch Kurt. He loves to watch, and he’s told Kurt this on numerous occasions.
Lucky for Blaine, Kurt likes to perform.
Kurt smooths his hands up and down Blaine’s thighs, enjoying the feel of firm muscle underneath his palms. He loves the inside of Blaine’s thighs, where they’re softer and the hair is sparser.
They’ve been doing this for years, and Kurt likes to think it is a skill he could brag about, if people bragged about such things. He could take Blaine in one go, swallow around him until Blaine is squirming and twisting his hands in Kurt’s hair...
But he doesn’t. He loves this part, the teasing. He loves to nip at the skin of Blaine’s thighs and skim his fingers down the shaft.
“Quit teasing,” Blaine pleads. “I’m sick, remember.”
“What does that have to do with whether or not I’m going to tease you?” Kurt asks this right against the head of Blaine’s cock, enjoying the way his hips jump up at the words. The action causes the head of his cock to brush Kurt’s bottom lip, and Blaine whines.
He bites his tongue on I thought you weren’t sick because he knows that Blaine has long given up on that charade.
“B-because you’re a nice boyfriend?”
“Teasing doesn’t mean I’m not nice,” he chuckles darkly. He grips the base of Blaine’s cock surely and his thumb brushes a prominent vein on the underside. “In fact, I think it makes me very nice.”
Blaine lets out a small whine before collapsing back into the pillows. Kurt normally would tell Blaine to watch, because he loves when he watches, but he would prefer that he’s comfortable for this.
He loves the smell of Blaine’s shampoo mixed with the menthol of the Vicks rub. Kurt thinks that this odd mixture might very well be the smell of comforting Blaine. Bathing him, fretting over him, and wrapping him in one of their fluffy robes.
Kurt loves taking care of his boyfriend.
There is a ring box tucked in the bedside table drawer, behind a stack of books and under a tattered map of the city. He’s marked down all of the places he’s thought about proposing to Blaine, but nowhere feels perfect. It has to be perfect.
He knows that he might up proposing in this very bed.
But not today. Today is about Blaine.
He presses countless kisses to the tops of Blaine’s thighs, enjoying the way he can feel the muscles tensing under his lips. “Relax, baby,” he orders gently. “I’ve got you.” He releases his grip on Blaine’s cock to roll his palm over the head, collecting the precome gathered there and smoothing it down the side. It’s not enough to keep it from being rough, but it’ll do for now.
Blaine is wound up too tight. He gets that way when he’s not feeling his best. He tells Kurt that he feels his control slipping and he doesn’t like feeling that way. “It’s okay,” he tells him. “Relax.”
As Kurt had predicted, Blaine begins to melt under the gentle touches, but only slightly. Kurt presses one last kiss to the jut of Blaine’s hipbone before propping himself up on his elbow. Blaine looking down at him with dark eyes, his nose still red and angry from going through a box and a half of tissues.
Poor thing.
Kurt finally takes pity on him and sinks his lips over the head of Blaine’s cock. When Blaine’s hips jerk up, Kurt pets his side as encouragement. It’s Kurt’s way of saying it’s okay and I don’t mind. Sure, there are times when he’ll plant a firm arm over Blaine’s hips to still them. These are the times when Kurt needs to be in control. But this time? He’s content to let Blaine gently rock his hips further past the tight ring of Kurt’s lips.
Blaine’s hips jerk up, causing Kurt to pull off with a cough. It’s only then that he realizes that his poor boyfriend is sneezing his head off, thus unable to coordinate the motion of his hips.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Kurt says soothingly. He reaches over to the nightstand to grab an unused tissue and holds it up to Blaine’s nose, urging him to sit up.
“This is so unsexy,” Blaine sniffs, crumbling up the tissue and tossing it somewhere near the trashcan. Kurt doesn’t lecture him, he can always pick up later.
“You don’t always have to be sexy.”
Blaine flops back down on the bed. He looks defeated.
That’s probably why he’s so surprised when Kurt gets right back into it, grabbing Blaine’s hips and dragging his bottom lip over the head of his cock. He seemed to be getting close before the ill-timed sneezing fit, and Kurt isn’t one to leave unfinished business.
He sinks his lips down, his tongue curling around the shaft and tracing ever vein. Years of this has left Kurt with the knowledge of how to make Blaine fall apart.
Kurt loves to drink in the quake of Blaine’s thighs and his whimpers, but there will be other times for teasing. There will be plenty of other times for teasing if Kurt gets the answer he’s hoping for when he finally find the guts to pull out that ring box.
His hands settle on Blaine’s cheeks, kneading the firm muscle there. He focuses his efforts on tonguing the slit, where the taste of Blaine is strongest.
Kurt fans on his fingers and his thumb brushes Blaine’s hole.
That’s all it takes.
The tension in Blaine seems to bleed out of him. While Kurt knows realistically and this won’t cure a stubborn head cold, he’s still happy to have made Blaine feels a little better for the moment.
The only option is swallowing. Kurt is pretty sure most of the tissues in the nearby vicinity are used.
He crawls up the length of Blaine’s body, wiping off his mouth with the back of his wrist. “Want me to make you soup?”
“Nah,” Blaine smiles softly, stroking his hands down Kurt’s sides until he reaches his hips, urging him closer. Kurt’s still hard and brush of Blaine’s well-muscled thigh feels like too much.
He licks his lips and looks up at Kurt. “I think I’m feeling a little better already.”
Author: gameboycolor
Betas: truthaboutglee, blueb1rd
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
Spoilers: None
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Sickfic, blowjobs
Length: ~3800
Summary: From the GKM. Blaine has a sick day, and Kurt doesn't intend to let him spend it alone.
"I'm not sick," Blaine protests. It would be reassuring, had his words not been punctuated by a sneeze. It's been a slow build, sneezes and coughs increasing steadily over the past week. Blaine is a pro at chugging orange juice and insisting it will pass, that he doesn't get sick.
Blaine is too busy to get sick. It’s not scheduled.
But this morning, he refuses to leave the bed. He claims to be building a cocoon of blankets, and that he will emerge as a butterfly of perfect health.
"Of course you're not," Kurt says, rolling his eyes. "It's just allergies, right?"
"Right." Blaine says shortly before burrowing further under the covers. "Just leave me here to die. I feel like a snot monster. A snot monster who isn’t sick."
Kurt sits down beside the Blaine shaped lump on the bed. "My snot monster, though."
"So romantic."
"I could stand to miss a class or two today, if you really needed me," Kurt offers.
Blaine pokes his head out at this. "Don't tempt me."
Kurt takes stock of his boyfriend's bloodshot eyes and bedhead. He's sure Blaine could fend for himself. A childhood full of mostly absentee parents has made him a bit of a pro at that.
But he doesn't have to anymore, regardless of whether he can or not.
“I could miss an entire day of classes,” Kurt continues, pressing his palm to Blaine’s warm forehead. Blaine leans into the touch, and his face finally begins to relax. “But only if you want me to.”
“I want you to,” Blaine says in a rush. “I really, really want you to.”
Kurt brushes Blaine’s curls off of his forehead. He needs a haircut, but Kurt will save the lectures for when he’s feeling better. “He changes his tune so quickly,” he teases. “You must feel like death.”
“This is the first time I’ve been sick in this apartment,” Blaine pouts. “I’m not used to the creaks and apartment sounds and I’m worried I might mistake them for monsters.”
“That is... a legitimate concern,” Kurt nods. His lips curl into a smile. “Wait, I thought you said that you weren’t sick.”
“Shut up. The snot to brain ratio inside of my skull is making me delirious.”
Kurt shakes his head, barely restraining the urge to chuckle at his ill boyfriend. “Does the little caterpillar need tea?”
“He does,” Blaine sniffs. “But no preference. I can’t taste anything. It all tastes like snot.”
“So that quiche I had you try last night?”
“Snotlicious.”
“You sicken me,” Kurt groans.
“Apparently not,” Blaine points out. “Or you’d be curled up in misery too.”
“But then who would take care of your pathetic ass?”
Blaine makes a small noise of consideration. “The cute neighbor. Definitely the cute neighbor.”
“The one with the yorkies or the one with the running shorts?”
“Yorkie guy.”
“I’m not sure whether to be jealous or compliment you on your excellent taste.” Kurt pulls Blaine up by his shoulders are proceeds to tug off his worn Dalton sweatshirt.
“Skipping classes for sex?” Blaine says with a sly grin. “Mr. Hummel, what has gotten into you?”
Before Kurt can answer, Blaine erupts into a coughing fit. Kurt rubs his back and whispers reassuring nonsense in his ear. It sounds painful, and by the end of it, Blaine is left clutching his ribs.
“I’ll get the Vicks after you take a shower,” Kurt says, nudging Blaine’s shoulder lightly.
“I don’t want to move,” Blaine groans. “Moving is bad.”
“You’ll feel better.”
Blaine juts out his bottom lip and looks up at Kurt with his big, stupid, hopeful eyes. Usually it works, but -
“I wouldn’t make you move if I didn’t know what was best for you.”
“Can we make it a bath instead?” Blaine asks. “I’ll even let you wash my hair.”
Kurt gently runs his free hand through Blaine’s curls, still rubbing his back lightly with the other hand. “You say that like it’s a treat for me.”
“You love washing my hair,” Blaine insists.
He loves the appreciative noises Blaine makes, but he’s not going to tell him that. Besides, he’s pretty sure Blaine already knows.
“I love making you happy,” he says instead. “So, yes, I’ll run the bath.”
Kurt is barely off the bed before Blaine’s burrowing back under the covers. He knows it will take some coaxing to get him back out of bed, but he figures he deserves a few minutes of rest.
He sets off to the bathroom, wincing at the wreckage that awaits him. It seemed as though Blaine had felt the need to take everything out of the medicine cabinet in his quest for Dayquil. Apparently from there, the blister packaging had outsmarted him, so he had taken a pair of scissors to it in frustration.
Kurt rolls his eyes fondly as he tidies up the mess. Once the vanity is back to its usual condition, he runs the taps to get Blaine’s bath ready. Not too hot, but not the overwhelming disappointment that comes with a lukewarm bath either. He grabs some of Blaine’s ridiculous bubblegum scented bubble bath from the shower caddy and dumps a liberal amount under the running water. Normally Kurt can’t stand the smell, but he’ll make the sacrifice to get Blaine feeling better.
Perhaps the hot bath will open up his sinuses. Blaine sounds a bit like a duck, and as adorable as it is, Kurt knows he can’t feel comfortable like that.
“Blaine!” he calls over the sound of the running water. “Your bath is ready!”
“Blaine is hibernating,” Blaine shouts back. Kurt tries not to wince at the strained quality of his voice. “Try again later.”
“I can carry you, you know,” Kurt says, peeking out the bathroom door to address the Blaine-shaped lump on the bed. “It won’t be fun for either of us, but I can.”
Not even a minute later, Blaine shows up in the doorway with the comforter from this bed wrapped around his shoulders like a cape. He has nothing on but a pair of threadbare pajama pants, but the effect is more adorable than anything else.
“I was cold,” Blaine offers as an explanation.
“Why did bringing the bed with you seem like a logical solution?”
“Because I was cold,” he repeats.
Kurt smiles and makes a mental note to toss the comforter in the wash when Blaine is settled in the bath. The last thing he needs is to be wrapped in a germy blanket. He then runs his hand under the tap to check the temperature before gesturing to Blaine to come over.
“C’mon, I even used that bubblegum stuff you love so much.”
“It smells like my childhood,” Blaine says dreamily as he drops the blanket and kicks off his pajama pants and leaves them in an undignified heap on the floor. Kurt won’t scold him this time, because he knows he’s not feeling well.
Kurt appreciates the sight of his naked boyfriend just as much as he did the first time, if not more so now. But he’s in caretaker mode. He’s not even sure if Blaine would be up for fooling around.
That doesn’t mean he isn’t going to admire him. The way his muscles shift as he sinks into the tub. The bubbles stick to his chest in a way that is both adorable and dorky as all get out. His face starts to relax, aside from the occasional sniffle and harsh sounding cough.
“You smell like a playground, B.” Kurt scrunches his nose. “Boy sweat and bubblegum.”
“I should bottle it. Sell it. We’d be millionaires.” Blaine tips his head back into the studs so Kurt can get to his hair. He knows Blaine will need a good clarifying shampoo when he’s back to feeling human again, but this is more about comfort than practicality. “We can call it Playground Dreams.”
“No one wants to smell like a seven year old. Besides, that sounds really creepy.”
Blaine hums his agreement as Kurt sets to work on washing his hair. He smooths a liberal amount of Bumble and Bumble Curl Conscious through his locks, letting his fingers scratch Blaine’s scalp as he works the shampoo into a lather.
“Make me a mohawk.”
“Mohawks or head scratches?”
“Head scratches,” Blaine sighs happily. “Definitely head scratches.”
“That’s what I thought,” Kurt says. His fingers move down to scratch at the shorter hairs at the nape of Blaine’s neck, and Blaine all but moans in response.
“Cheater.”
“How am I cheating?”
“That’s awesome spot number seven. I would give away our pin number on account of awesome spot number seven.”
Kurt presses a quick kiss to Blaine’s neck. “I feel so secure about our financial future.”
“We will literally have dryer lint and a nickel in the bank after this next rent check goes through,” Blaine says. “I’m thinking of selling my body.”
“You will do no such thing!” Kurt gasps. “And besides, no one wants a snotty blowjob. It’s just gross.”
“I’ll show you gross.” Blaine reaches out and tries to grasp Kurt’s shoulders to tug him into the tub. All he accomplishes is getting Kurt’s shirt wet.
Kurt sighs and unbuttons his shirt in order to remove the now dampened material. “And what exactly did you think that would accomplish?”
“I thought I’d get you into the tub. And sex.”
“The tub is too small. We’ve tried.”
Shower sex, Kurt has learned, sounds hotter than it actually is. In reality, it is an adventure in balance and using adequate amounts of lubrication. It’s not worth it, especially when they have a perfectly good bed in the next room.
“I know,” Blaine says mournfully. “But a boy can dream.”
Kurt is now left in nothing but his undershirt, thanks to Blaine’s shenanigans. It’s probably for the best, because he was going to get splashed eventually. He grabs the empty pitcher on the side of the tub and runs it under the tap in order to rinse the shampoo out of Blaine’s curls.
He gently grasps Blaine’s chin and tips it back as he tips the pitcher out over Blaine’s head. Once he’s satisfied that he’s rinsed most of it out, Kurt begins to work the conditioner through Blaine’s curls. They can get a bit unruly when left to their own devices.
“You ready to get out after this?”
“My fingers aren’t pruny yet,” Blaine whines. He sounds less congested.
“Five minutes ago you were trying to get bathtub sex, and now you’re acting like a little kid.”
Blaine pouts.
Kurt leans in to kiss his pout away. He tastes like soap and cherry cough syrup. When he pulls back, he smiles. “If you get out of the tub, I’ll get the vapor rub.”
“I don’t know...”
“I’ll raise you a backrub and two hours of reality television.”
“Maaaaybe.”
“Blaine,” Kurt says sternly.
“Fine, but only if we can watch the Bachelorette.”
Kurt shrugs. “Doesn’t matter to me, I won’t be watching.”
“That sounds... foreboding?”
“You’ll see.”
He repeats the process of rinsing the conditioner out of Blaine’s hair, making sure to leave some of the rinse in. He figures the leftover conditioner will do a bit of damage control. There’s no way Blaine has the patience to let Kurt fuss with his hair today, and he doesn’t want to deal with his boyfriend finding a bad tangle on one of his locks. He always whines and threatens to cut them out himself when it gets this long.
After pulling the drain out of the tub, Kurt fetches one of the fluffy robes hanging on the towel rack. It’s one of those small indulgences that lets them pretend they’re living in one of the nicest hotels in the city instead of their cramped apartment.
Blaine slips into the robe and Kurt starts toweling off his hair. Halfway through, he lets out another pathetic sounding cough.
“Aww, baby. Want me to get the Vicks?” Kurt asks
Blaine nods and lets out a small hum of affirmation.
“C’mon,” Kurt tugs his arm lightly and guides him out of the bathroom. “Next stop on the Kurt Hummel caretaking tour, our bedroom.”
When they step back into the bedroom, Kurt instructs Blaine to sit on the loveseat in the corner of the room so he can strip the bed.
“Won’t you just have to change them again after I stop being sick and gross?” Blaine asks. He’s curled up in the oversized robe looking painfully adorable, in Kurt’s opinion.
Kurt sticks his tongue out in concentration as he fusses with the fitted sheet. “Well, yes, but the last thing you should do when you’re sick is lay back in a germy bed. I bet you blew your nose on the topsheet.”
“Only once,” Blaine admits sheepishly.
Kurt narrows his gaze.
“Maybe twice?” He holds his hands up in surrender. The ends of the robe almost cover them completely. “I was running out of tissues!”
“No big deal,” Kurt shrugs as he finishes putting new sheets on the bed. “There have been worse things on our sheets. I just wanted to give you a hard time.” He pats the newly made bed for Blaine to join him on it. “All clean!”
“A clean Blaine in a clean bed,” Blaine chirps happily as he bounces on the bed a little. “Yay.” He claps his hands together. “Would it be too much to ask you to get my pajamas?”
“Not yet,” Kurt smiles up at him and he strokes his fingers over the knot of where Blaine’s robe is tied.
“But I need clothes, Kurt,” Blaine pouts. “And I dun’ wanna get up.”
“I said not yet,” he repeats as he works the knot open.
“Ohh,” Blaine says.
“Being sick makes you so slow, baby,” Kurt coos.
“I’ve always been a little slow to get with the program,” he shrugs as Kurt pushes the robe off Blaine’s shoulders to expose his chest.
Kurt grabs the container of Vicks that he had tossed to the side earlier and twists off the cap. When Kurt catches his eyes, Blaine is frowning.
“I thought that sound was something more fun,” he admits.
“You asked for the Vicks,” Kurt points out.
“That I did.”
Blaine still looks disappointed as Kurt works the Vicks between his palms. “Babe, did you want something else? I could make tea, or soup...” The refrigerator is a little bare these days, but he’s sure he can come up with something.
“I...” Blaine starts. “I want...”
Kurt smooths the Vicks across his chest and at the base of Blaine’s throat. He doesn’t miss the way Blaine leans into the touch. His lips are parted and his eyes are focused on the nimble work Kurt’s fingers are up to.
It would be positively alluring if Blaine wasn’t a sniffing, sneezing mess.
“Mm?” Kurt hums.
“I want you,” Blaine whimpers.
“Maybe when you’re feeling better, sweetie,” Kurt tells him. He wipes the excess on Blaine’s shoulders and gives them a small squeeze. They feel tense, so he starts kneading at the muscle beneath his fingertips. He must have slept funny. Kurt remembers waking up at odd hours to Blaine’s coughing fits.
“I’ll want you then, too,” he says.
“Of course you will,” Kurt tells him sweetly.
“I hate when you’re all... condescending and Kurt-like.”
“Kurt-like?”
“It’s a thing. It’s totally a thing.”
“Well, I’d hope so,” he smiles. “Because, I am Kurt. Being Kurt-like is kind of part of the deal.”
“All I wanted was a sympathy blowjob. My dick doesn’t have a cold.”
“That is perhaps the weirdest argument you’ve ever made.”
That doesn’t mean that Kurt isn’t considering it. Maybe a bit of post-orgasm haze and a dose of Nyquil is all Blaine needs to get back to sleep and recharge.
“Will you go to sleep after?” he asks.
“Yes, Mom,” Blaine groans.
“Oh my god,” Kurt rolls his eyes as he put the Vicks to the side and opening the bottom half of Blaine’s bathrobe. “No talking about your Mom while I’m anywhere near your dick.”
“I didn’t know that was a rule.”
“It doesn’t have to be, it’s a common courtesy.” Kurt places a hand on Blaine’s chest, urging him to lean back. “C’mon, lay down. I got you.”
Blaine complies, but he still leans up on his elbows to watch Kurt. He loves to watch, and he’s told Kurt this on numerous occasions.
Lucky for Blaine, Kurt likes to perform.
Kurt smooths his hands up and down Blaine’s thighs, enjoying the feel of firm muscle underneath his palms. He loves the inside of Blaine’s thighs, where they’re softer and the hair is sparser.
They’ve been doing this for years, and Kurt likes to think it is a skill he could brag about, if people bragged about such things. He could take Blaine in one go, swallow around him until Blaine is squirming and twisting his hands in Kurt’s hair...
But he doesn’t. He loves this part, the teasing. He loves to nip at the skin of Blaine’s thighs and skim his fingers down the shaft.
“Quit teasing,” Blaine pleads. “I’m sick, remember.”
“What does that have to do with whether or not I’m going to tease you?” Kurt asks this right against the head of Blaine’s cock, enjoying the way his hips jump up at the words. The action causes the head of his cock to brush Kurt’s bottom lip, and Blaine whines.
He bites his tongue on I thought you weren’t sick because he knows that Blaine has long given up on that charade.
“B-because you’re a nice boyfriend?”
“Teasing doesn’t mean I’m not nice,” he chuckles darkly. He grips the base of Blaine’s cock surely and his thumb brushes a prominent vein on the underside. “In fact, I think it makes me very nice.”
Blaine lets out a small whine before collapsing back into the pillows. Kurt normally would tell Blaine to watch, because he loves when he watches, but he would prefer that he’s comfortable for this.
He loves the smell of Blaine’s shampoo mixed with the menthol of the Vicks rub. Kurt thinks that this odd mixture might very well be the smell of comforting Blaine. Bathing him, fretting over him, and wrapping him in one of their fluffy robes.
Kurt loves taking care of his boyfriend.
There is a ring box tucked in the bedside table drawer, behind a stack of books and under a tattered map of the city. He’s marked down all of the places he’s thought about proposing to Blaine, but nowhere feels perfect. It has to be perfect.
He knows that he might up proposing in this very bed.
But not today. Today is about Blaine.
He presses countless kisses to the tops of Blaine’s thighs, enjoying the way he can feel the muscles tensing under his lips. “Relax, baby,” he orders gently. “I’ve got you.” He releases his grip on Blaine’s cock to roll his palm over the head, collecting the precome gathered there and smoothing it down the side. It’s not enough to keep it from being rough, but it’ll do for now.
Blaine is wound up too tight. He gets that way when he’s not feeling his best. He tells Kurt that he feels his control slipping and he doesn’t like feeling that way. “It’s okay,” he tells him. “Relax.”
As Kurt had predicted, Blaine begins to melt under the gentle touches, but only slightly. Kurt presses one last kiss to the jut of Blaine’s hipbone before propping himself up on his elbow. Blaine looking down at him with dark eyes, his nose still red and angry from going through a box and a half of tissues.
Poor thing.
Kurt finally takes pity on him and sinks his lips over the head of Blaine’s cock. When Blaine’s hips jerk up, Kurt pets his side as encouragement. It’s Kurt’s way of saying it’s okay and I don’t mind. Sure, there are times when he’ll plant a firm arm over Blaine’s hips to still them. These are the times when Kurt needs to be in control. But this time? He’s content to let Blaine gently rock his hips further past the tight ring of Kurt’s lips.
Blaine’s hips jerk up, causing Kurt to pull off with a cough. It’s only then that he realizes that his poor boyfriend is sneezing his head off, thus unable to coordinate the motion of his hips.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Kurt says soothingly. He reaches over to the nightstand to grab an unused tissue and holds it up to Blaine’s nose, urging him to sit up.
“This is so unsexy,” Blaine sniffs, crumbling up the tissue and tossing it somewhere near the trashcan. Kurt doesn’t lecture him, he can always pick up later.
“You don’t always have to be sexy.”
Blaine flops back down on the bed. He looks defeated.
That’s probably why he’s so surprised when Kurt gets right back into it, grabbing Blaine’s hips and dragging his bottom lip over the head of his cock. He seemed to be getting close before the ill-timed sneezing fit, and Kurt isn’t one to leave unfinished business.
He sinks his lips down, his tongue curling around the shaft and tracing ever vein. Years of this has left Kurt with the knowledge of how to make Blaine fall apart.
Kurt loves to drink in the quake of Blaine’s thighs and his whimpers, but there will be other times for teasing. There will be plenty of other times for teasing if Kurt gets the answer he’s hoping for when he finally find the guts to pull out that ring box.
His hands settle on Blaine’s cheeks, kneading the firm muscle there. He focuses his efforts on tonguing the slit, where the taste of Blaine is strongest.
Kurt fans on his fingers and his thumb brushes Blaine’s hole.
That’s all it takes.
The tension in Blaine seems to bleed out of him. While Kurt knows realistically and this won’t cure a stubborn head cold, he’s still happy to have made Blaine feels a little better for the moment.
The only option is swallowing. Kurt is pretty sure most of the tissues in the nearby vicinity are used.
He crawls up the length of Blaine’s body, wiping off his mouth with the back of his wrist. “Want me to make you soup?”
“Nah,” Blaine smiles softly, stroking his hands down Kurt’s sides until he reaches his hips, urging him closer. Kurt’s still hard and brush of Blaine’s well-muscled thigh feels like too much.
He licks his lips and looks up at Kurt. “I think I’m feeling a little better already.”