FIC: Cute Things
Title: Cute Things
Pair: pre-Klaine
Includes: Dangerous levels of fluff
Word Count: 808
Summary: Kurt gets sick, and Blaine sneaks into the infirmary.
For xenachakram12's birthday.
Silence reigned in the infirmary as Blaine moved sideways, on his tiptoes, through the door. His messenger bag was slung over his shoulders, and he held it securely. The head nurse was in his office reading something on his laptop.
Feeling emboldened, Blaine turned to look more deeply inside. The infirmary looked like a bedroom with lots of beds... and medical equipment. Comfortable but sterile.
There Kurt was, laying in one of the fluffy beds, his head lolled to the side and an IV sticking out of his arm. Blaine frowned deeply at that. Kurt was earning his nickname of “Porcelain” by looking excessively pale and fragile. There had been a chorus of “I’m fines” but as the week progressed, it became more and more apparent that Kurt was a dirty liar.
Until he’d finally collapsed on the grand staircase. He’d been lucky. The other boys there had caught him before he went tumbling down the winding steps to his brutal demise.
Blaine was actually a little mad at Kurt for that. Stubborn jerk. But here Blaine was anyway. He came over to Kurt’s bed and sat down. The back of his fingers trailed over Kurt’s warm cheek. His fever was still pretty high, so he might be contagious. That was why they had him sequestered away in the infirmary with no visitors. That and he was apparently dehydrated enough to need some fluids pumped into him.
“Dummy.”
“Unn?” One of Kurt’s red, swollen eyes opened halfway.
“Hey.” Blaine leaned forward a little so Kurt wouldn’t have to speak loudly. “How ya feelin’?
“Un.” Kurt closed his eyes again and frowned deeply, one hand moved upward to clumsily rub his eyes. For a moment he was still and it seemed like he’d gone back to sleep. Then he coughed weakly and looked up at Blaine. His voice sounded like a frog with the super flu. “Oh. Blaine. When did you get here?”
“Poor baby penguin.” Blaine smiled and petted his hair. “I’m the smuck who woke you up.”
“S’okay. Wasn’t having any really good dreams.” He coughed again and laid his head back on his pillow. “You shouldn’t be here. I’m Patient Zero. You’ll get sick.”
“No, I won’t. Because I got my flu vaccine this year.” Blaine punctuated the point with one hand.
“I have a mutant version. It’s the Flamingo Flu. Characterized by-” His cough exploded out of him.
“As much as I love your gift of gab, I’m gonna have to tell you to shut up.” Blaine bent over to his bag and opened it. “I come bearing illicit goodies.”
Kurt raised his brows in response. Blaine first pulled out a squatty stuffed animal. Kurt’s eyes widened.
“A little baby penguin for my little baby penguin!” Blaine set the penguin on Kurt and hoped he didn’t take offense.
On the contrary. His peaked face lit up. His dry, cracked lips stretched into a huge grin. Kurt wrapped his arms around the fuzzy penguin and mouthed, “Thank you!”
“Yay!” Blaine clapped his hands. “And one more thing.”
He leaned over again and brought up a take out cup. “I know milk products aren’t gonna help much with how your head feels, but I like ice cream when I’m sick, and the milkshakes at that diner across from the theatre are super amazing.”
Kurt’s brows went up again. Blaine took the straw and put it to Kurt’s lips.
There was this thing about small, cute things. Not that Blaine had as much perspective since Kurt had inched up taller than him, but the point remained. Small and cute things practically demanded that you squeeze them and smother them with affection. If his sister’s cat was any indication, this was a fact of law. That beast was bitchy, prickly, and inclined to hiss and lash out when it didn’t want to be touched.
But he always found himself wanting to pet the thing anyway. Kurt looked up at him as he sucked on the straw, and Blaine’s face flushed seeing his bitchy, prickly touch-me-not exercising his pink lips over that piece of plastic. Too cute. Too too cute.
Kurt let go of the straw and met Blaine’s eyes. He started to speak, then pointed to Blaine’s face. “You’re flushed,” he whispered.
“Oh, uh. It’s warm in here.”
“That’s a good sign. You’d get cold.” Kurt reached over and patted Blaine’s leg. “Don’t get sick. It sucks.”
“Looks like it.” Blaine licked his lips.
“But if you do-” Kurt twisted his arms together around the little stuffed penguin. “-I make awesome Get Well soup.”
“Well, then, bring on the congestion!” Blaine said with a grin.
Kurt laughed, then coughed, bringing his hand over his mouth.
“Blaine, you’re too cute.”
Pair: pre-Klaine
Includes: Dangerous levels of fluff
Word Count: 808
Summary: Kurt gets sick, and Blaine sneaks into the infirmary.
For xenachakram12's birthday.
Silence reigned in the infirmary as Blaine moved sideways, on his tiptoes, through the door. His messenger bag was slung over his shoulders, and he held it securely. The head nurse was in his office reading something on his laptop.
Feeling emboldened, Blaine turned to look more deeply inside. The infirmary looked like a bedroom with lots of beds... and medical equipment. Comfortable but sterile.
There Kurt was, laying in one of the fluffy beds, his head lolled to the side and an IV sticking out of his arm. Blaine frowned deeply at that. Kurt was earning his nickname of “Porcelain” by looking excessively pale and fragile. There had been a chorus of “I’m fines” but as the week progressed, it became more and more apparent that Kurt was a dirty liar.
Until he’d finally collapsed on the grand staircase. He’d been lucky. The other boys there had caught him before he went tumbling down the winding steps to his brutal demise.
Blaine was actually a little mad at Kurt for that. Stubborn jerk. But here Blaine was anyway. He came over to Kurt’s bed and sat down. The back of his fingers trailed over Kurt’s warm cheek. His fever was still pretty high, so he might be contagious. That was why they had him sequestered away in the infirmary with no visitors. That and he was apparently dehydrated enough to need some fluids pumped into him.
“Dummy.”
“Unn?” One of Kurt’s red, swollen eyes opened halfway.
“Hey.” Blaine leaned forward a little so Kurt wouldn’t have to speak loudly. “How ya feelin’?
“Un.” Kurt closed his eyes again and frowned deeply, one hand moved upward to clumsily rub his eyes. For a moment he was still and it seemed like he’d gone back to sleep. Then he coughed weakly and looked up at Blaine. His voice sounded like a frog with the super flu. “Oh. Blaine. When did you get here?”
“Poor baby penguin.” Blaine smiled and petted his hair. “I’m the smuck who woke you up.”
“S’okay. Wasn’t having any really good dreams.” He coughed again and laid his head back on his pillow. “You shouldn’t be here. I’m Patient Zero. You’ll get sick.”
“No, I won’t. Because I got my flu vaccine this year.” Blaine punctuated the point with one hand.
“I have a mutant version. It’s the Flamingo Flu. Characterized by-” His cough exploded out of him.
“As much as I love your gift of gab, I’m gonna have to tell you to shut up.” Blaine bent over to his bag and opened it. “I come bearing illicit goodies.”
Kurt raised his brows in response. Blaine first pulled out a squatty stuffed animal. Kurt’s eyes widened.
“A little baby penguin for my little baby penguin!” Blaine set the penguin on Kurt and hoped he didn’t take offense.
On the contrary. His peaked face lit up. His dry, cracked lips stretched into a huge grin. Kurt wrapped his arms around the fuzzy penguin and mouthed, “Thank you!”
“Yay!” Blaine clapped his hands. “And one more thing.”
He leaned over again and brought up a take out cup. “I know milk products aren’t gonna help much with how your head feels, but I like ice cream when I’m sick, and the milkshakes at that diner across from the theatre are super amazing.”
Kurt’s brows went up again. Blaine took the straw and put it to Kurt’s lips.
There was this thing about small, cute things. Not that Blaine had as much perspective since Kurt had inched up taller than him, but the point remained. Small and cute things practically demanded that you squeeze them and smother them with affection. If his sister’s cat was any indication, this was a fact of law. That beast was bitchy, prickly, and inclined to hiss and lash out when it didn’t want to be touched.
But he always found himself wanting to pet the thing anyway. Kurt looked up at him as he sucked on the straw, and Blaine’s face flushed seeing his bitchy, prickly touch-me-not exercising his pink lips over that piece of plastic. Too cute. Too too cute.
Kurt let go of the straw and met Blaine’s eyes. He started to speak, then pointed to Blaine’s face. “You’re flushed,” he whispered.
“Oh, uh. It’s warm in here.”
“That’s a good sign. You’d get cold.” Kurt reached over and patted Blaine’s leg. “Don’t get sick. It sucks.”
“Looks like it.” Blaine licked his lips.
“But if you do-” Kurt twisted his arms together around the little stuffed penguin. “-I make awesome Get Well soup.”
“Well, then, bring on the congestion!” Blaine said with a grin.
Kurt laughed, then coughed, bringing his hand over his mouth.
“Blaine, you’re too cute.”