fic: if there's hellfire, he's totally down with that 1 / 3

Media: fic
Title: if there's hellfire, he's totally down with that
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Kurt/Blaine
Spoilers: Marginally: one lone mention of a season 3 character's name and a few lines about a character's possible wardrobe update (if the promos are supposed to mean anything). When I say marginal, I really really mean marginal. Really marginal.
Warnings (if any): occasional swearing
Word Count: ~24000
Summary: He and Kurt aren't perfect, sure, but they're certainly not hellfire-bound, either. Or: a glorified five times (seven times?) fic to the tune of the Seven Deadly Sins.
A/N: According to my Yahoo 'Sent' folder, I originally ran this idea past kattyerin on June 13th and according to my Word properties pop-up box, it was started on the 15th so, you know, like three freaking months ago. It has been a slow, painful process and this story never would have seen the light of day without her. THANKS FOR THE MILITARY TIME THING, KAT. Also, as a random observation: I love this fandom so to anyone that's ever read/commented on one of these things, thank you so much; you're beyond awesome.


Disclaimer: I'm cautiously re-posting this with a little disclaimer beforehand. It's not my intention to offend anyone and so I'm sorry if I did. There's a few religious jokes/stereotypes in the beginning/end so I'm throwing that out there as a warning before you click. Again, I don't mean to offend anyone so my apologies.



It begins with a couple of evangelists at Kurt's door, which yeah, Blaine's very aware of how bizarre that is as a start to a story.

They're alone in the living room watching a What Not to Wear marathon on a Friday night while the rest of the family is grocery shopping. Well, Kurt's watching; Blaine's mostly just around for Kurt's very colorful commentary. He has no idea if they'll be gone for fifteen minutes or for two hours so he's strictly following Burt's instructions of no funny business. The last time they got almost-caught, Burt gave Blaine a very unimpressed glare for like, a week, and Kurt got another a stern reminder about his son being inappropriate. No way Blaine's risking that again, not tonight.

So the doorbell rings and Kurt sits up from where he's lying with his head innocently in Blaine's lap. (Which might fall under Burt's category of inappropriate but whatever, they have enough time to quickly sit up if they hear the garage door open.) He answers the door and Blaine hears him talk for a minute before Kurt calls out, "Blaine, can you please come here?"

He reluctantly leaves his comfortable spot on the couch to join Kurt by the front door and is greeted by the sight of two evangelists holding out a pamphlet to Kurt.

"I'm an atheist, like I said, but my boyfriend was raised Catholic. I'm sure he could get as much from this conversation as I could."

The evangelists stare at him blankly.

"He deserves a chance to be saved, too, right?" Kurt asks innocently. "You know how those Catholic schoolboys can get." They all eye each other for a few moments.

"Come on," Blaine says finally, laughing. He tugs Kurt away from the door. "Your couch is comfortable and I think these guys get the point."

Kurt waves goodbye as he closes the door and Blaine hears a faint, "Enjoy the hellfire," before it clicks shut.

Oh whatever, Blaine thinks as they settle back into the couch. But then he sort of starts to think about the whole thing as he watches Kurt lie his head in Blaine's lap again.

During the next commerical break he says, "You know, I'm actually okay with the hellfire thing."

Kurt looks up at him and laughs, eyes wide. "Wait, what?"

"This," he explains as he gestures between them. "If we really are going to hell, it's definitely worth it."

"I don't believe in hell," Kurt says simply.

Blaine shrugs. "Me either but if there's hellfire, I'm saying I'm totally down with that."

Kurt shakes his head. "You might be the most ridiculous person I know, Blaine Anderson."

"Thank you," he says with a smile. Kurt smiles back and they spend a few seconds just, you know, smiling.

He and Kurt aren't perfect, sure, but they're certainly not hellfire-bound, either. Blaine figures that they fall somewhere in the middle:


:::



Sloth:
(or: Laziness: Another byproduct of peer pressure )

"I don't think I'll go to school today," Kurt tells him in that airy way he's perfected.

"Oh?" Blaine asks. He waits for the explanation.

Kurt starts fixing his hair in the rear view mirror, though, and it becomes obvious that there is no explanation.

"Any particular reason?" Blaine prompts, shifting in the passenger seat of the Navigator to watch Kurt.

"No," he answers. "I just don't feel like it."

"Don't feel like it," Blaine echoes.

"I've never skipped school before. I think it'll be a valuable life experience."

"Okay," he says slowly. "So what are you going to do instead?"

Kurt looks away from the mirror and considers it for a minute. "I haven't thought about that quite yet. Feel free to suggest ideas."

It's barely seven thirty in the morning on a Monday and Blaine is just not awake enough to have this conversation.

"So let me get this straight," he clarifies. "You want to skip school for the life experience of it all but have no real reason to do it?"

Kurt gives him an annoyed glance. "People skip school all of the time."

"Yes," Blaine says with an exasperated sigh, "but they usually have a reason."

Kurt narrows his eyes and waits.

"You know," Blaine explains, "To camp out for concert tickets or go shopping with friends or for the thrill of not getting caught. And you don't seem to be interested in any of those things."

He shrugs. "I'm lazy today; what can I say?"

Blaine shakes his head. "We're sitting in the school parking lot fifteen minutes before the first bell and that's when you decide to be lazy?"

"So?"

"So -- so who wakes up for school, gets ready for school, and then drives to school before deciding to, you know, not go to school?"

He shrugs again and goes back to examining his hair in the rear view mirror.

Blaine lets out a resigned sigh as he settles back into the passenger seat and re-fastens his seatbelt. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Kurt try to hide a smile.

"Does that mean you're coming with me?" he asks innocently.

"Oh come off it," Blaine tells him with an eye roll. "You knew you'd talk me into skipping school with you the second you came up with the idea."

"Me? But I didn't say a word. I haven't tried to talk you into anything."

Blaine rolls his eyes again. "We both know how this scenario plays out, Kurt. You come up with something completely nonsensical, I try to bring some logic to the table, you deflect by drowning me with compliments, I end up caving in, you act smug, and then the whole thing ends with me feeling like the world's most spineless boyfriend."

"You're not spineless," Kurt argues as he leans into Blaine's personal space and grabs his hands. "You're amazing, that's what you are. You don't ever come off as condescending or treat me like I'm ridiculous or act like you're humoring me. Don't you know how important that is? I love that about you."

Blaine just blinks at him. "That's you deflecting with compliments, by the way."

Kurt tries to hide another smile.

"And this is me caving," Blaine adds as he gestures to his own fastened seatbelt. "Because the complimenting thing has yet to fail you."

Kurt claps his hands together with an accomplished grin and settles back into the driver's seat with one last look into the mirror.

"And FYI, this is you acting smug," he informs Kurt as he puts the Navigator in reverse and they make their way out of the McKinley parking lot.

"Sorry," he replies, managing to actually sound a little contrite.

He's totally not and they both know it but at least he's working on toning down the smug thing, which Blaine appreciates. Meanwhile, Blaine's working on the whole having a backbone thing but he's not having as much success. He wants to be more concerned or embarrassed about it but he figures that it's not a big deal in the grand scheme of things. It's not like he's agreeing to like, help Kurt hide a dead body or smuggle cocaine into Canada or something else hugely serious. Because ultimately, Blaine figures that he's pretty safe when it comes to the serious stuff since a) he's doubtful that Canadians even use cocaine and b) he's pretty sure he could tell Kurt no in the hide-a-body scenario. Probably.

:::

They sit in the Hummel driveway.

"No," Blaine says. "We're not skipping school to sit at your house and watch Golden Girl reruns."

"Who said anything about Golden Girls?" Kurt asks defensively.

"I'm referring to the principle of it, Kurt. We can't skip school to sit at your house. That's like, the least stealthy way to play hooky."

He gives Blaine an exaggerated sigh. "I'm listening," he says. "I'm assuming you have a better idea?"

"No," he admits. "Not really."

They sit in silence for a few minutes.

"I could probably Google it. They might have suggestions," Blaine offers. "Let me get my phone out."

They sit in silence for a few more minutes while Blaine messes around with his phone. And then: "They do. They totally do have suggestions on how to skip school."

"Really?" Kurt asks, leaning in to see.

They check out a few of the links. "I feel like this is cheating," Blaine tells him. "I think skipping school becomes inherently less bad-ass when Google is telling us what to do."

Kurt nods in agreement and Blaine turns the phone off. "I agree. We should come up with this on our own."

They're quiet for awhile.

"We're not going to the Lima Bean or Breadstix," Kurt decides. "It has to be something bigger."

"Bigger," he repeats, still thinking. "Okay, how about a movie?"

"Boring. Bigger than that, Blaine."

He thinks again. "How about the mall?"

"No. Bigger."

"That used book store?"

"Bigger, Blaine."

"I -- Chuck E. Cheese? We could play skee ball."

Kurt stares at him. "No."

"The roller rink?"

"Blaine. No."

"Laser Tag?"

"Stop."

"Why not? They have Dance Dance Revolution there," he tries.

"Stop. I need for you to stop."

"Hey, at least I'm trying," Blaine says defensively.

Kurt sighs. "Chuck E. Cheese? Roller skating? We're not seven, Blaine."

"Well, you didn't like my grown-up ideas, either."

"That's because they're not big enough, Blaine!" he says, sounding exasperated.

Blaine blinks. "Chicago. We can drive to Chicago."

Kurt's quiet. "Okay, that's too big. Now you don't get any more suggestions."

He tries to protest but Kurt shakes his head. "I'm serious. No more."

Blaine settles back into the seat and makes himself comfortable. "Do this on your own then, fine."

After a few minutes of silence, Kurt nudges him. "The zoo," he says.

"The zoo," Blaine echoes. "We're not seven, Kurt, remember?"

But Kurt's ignoring him already with a determined look and okay, the zoo it is, apparently.

:::

So they go to the zoo but they don't actually go to the zoo. They drive to Columbus and pay the ten dollars for parking but when he turns off the ignition, they don't actually like, get out.

"Do you have your sunscreen?" Blaine asks as he reaches for the door handle.

Kurt gives him a quizzical look. "Why would I have sunscreen, Blaine? I'm not usually in the habit of carrying a bottle of SPF 75 around with me in the McKinley hallways. I wasn't exactly planning on a trip to the zoo today when I left the house."

"Oh Kurt," he says, sounding incredibly disappointed with him. "You know you can't walk around for hours in the sun without sunscreen."

And ugh, what the hell? He sounds like Kurt's dad.

Kurt blinks at him. Understandably, he says, "You sound like my dad, Blaine."

He pauses. "Yeah. I'm sorry. It's just -- I thought -- okay, no, I actually have no idea why I said that."

Kurt's still quiet.

"But I know how you feel about your skin care and I don't want you regretting your decision tomorrow morning when you're like, moisturizing." He watches Kurt and adds, "And also, I'm not really down with you getting sun poisoning and skin cancer."

Kurt doesn't say anything for a minute but then tilts his head. "I love you."

And okay, not the response Blaine was expecting but he'll definitely take it.

"They probably sell sunscreen in the gift shop," Kurt suggests.

"True," Blaine agrees. "And it's probably fifty dollars for a sample size. Do you have a hat in here?"

Kurt looks at him skeptically.

"Yeah, I know," Blaine says, answering his own question. "You're not really in the habit of carrying a baseball cap around the McKinley hallways, got it. Truthfully, I can't even see you owning a baseball cap."

"Actually," he starts.

Blaine raises his eyebrows.

"There was this -- this phase a couple of years ago. Think flannel, think loose fitting jeans."

He gapes at Kurt. "Wait, what?"

"It's kind of a long story," Kurt explains.

Blaine takes his hand off the door handle.

:::

"I guess I can see the allure," Blaine says when Kurt's finished with his Mellencamp story. "Of having relations with a cheerleader, I mean."

Kurt shrugs. "It's that dumb jock thing, I'm sure. Apparently that was part of my phase, too."

And gross, Kurt is sort of bringing Finn into this conversation and the last thing Blaine wants is for Kurt to be thinking about another guy while they're alone in his car. When it comes to Finn, well, Blaine has the beginnings of a Napoleon complex.

"Plus, you really can't judge me about dating a girl," he points out.

Blaine resists the urge to tell him that dating Rachel is better than dating Brittany but only because he's pretty sure that Kurt would disagree and because Blaine really doesn't want to be thinking about a girl while they're alone in the car, either.

"I wish we would have known each other back then," he says instead.

Kurt gives Blaine a considering look. "What song would you have chosen for that assignment?"

"Hm," he answers. "I'd have to think about it."

"I'm assuming something from the Billboard charts?" he teases with a smile.

Blaine frowns and thinks. "No, sophomore year was a tough year with my dad and I. It'd probably be something whiny and self-absorbed."

Kurt's smile fades. "I wish we would have known each other back then, too," he says quietly.

:::

The conversation somehow leads to Nationals as the parking lot fills up all around them.

"It was one of the best days of my life," Kurt admits. "Definitely in the top five."

Blaine smiles. "What are the other four?"

"I don't know," he says. "What are yours?"

Blaine tries to think about it. "The last day of our family vacation the summer before eighth grade. Not because it was the last day," he tells him. "But because -- it was a good day, that's all. I really felt like I belonged, if that makes any sense."

"Yes," Kurt says. "It does. What about the other four?"

"The day I got offered my first solo with the Warblers," he answers, sounding kind of embarrassed. "As vapid as that sounds. I finally felt like one of them, you know?"

"Like you belonged," Kurt tells him with an understanding smile.

"Yeah," he agrees.

"Number three?" Kurt prompts.

"I don't know," Blaine admits after a long pause, looking embarrassed again. "You sort make an appearance in the other three."

"Really?"

He nods. "Really."

Kurt's quiet.

"You make me feel like ..." he trails off.

"Like we belong?" Kurt fills in and he actually sounds shy.

"Yeah," Blaine whispers with another grateful smile. "So I'd say the day of Regionals when I got to sing with my boyfriend in front of hundreds of people; that's my first choice."

"That is a good day," Kurt agrees. "That would be in mine, too."

"Our first date," Blaine continues.

"Oh god," Kurt replies with an eye roll. "They burnt your lasagna, you found a hair in your water, and we got a flat tire on the way back to my house."

"It was our first date," Blaine says simply. "The rest didn't really matter."

Kurt doesn't say anything but Blaine sees his ears get a little pink.

"And that day on the stairwell," he finishes.

Kurt scoffs. "That can't be in your top five, Blaine. You can't choose a day just because it's significant in retrospect."

"Sure you can," Blaine argues. "I don't think you can ever tell how important a day is until you look at it in retrospect."

Vaguely, he thinks about the kind of day where he sits in a car and talks with his boyfriend for hours, maybe not even talking about anything of real importance. He thinks about how that kind of day might not seem like much at the time but then in retrospect, it might seem like one of the best days of his life.

:::

"I'm sorry about the Rachel fiasco," Blaine tells him later, mostly out of nowhere.

"What?" Kurt asks, taken aback.

He shrugs. "I know it hurt your feelings and I'm sorry."

"You really don't need to apologize," Kurt laughs. "It's water under the bridge, trust me."

"I know. But going on a date with one of your friends, it's just -- that wasn't a very friend thing to do."

Kurt's quiet. "I'm sorry, too," he says eventually. "For not being more supportive when you were having some sort of crisis. That wasn't a very friend thing to do, either."

"Water under the bridge," Blaine repeats back to him.

He shifts in the passenger seat and notices that the parking lot is pretty much completely full. Neither of them make an effort to leave the car, though.

"Top five favorite songs of all time," Blaine says finally.

"Oh my god, Blaine," Kurt huffs. "That kind of question requires an immense amount of consideration. You can't expect an immediate response to something like that."

"So think about it," Blaine replies as he settles back into his seat and makes himself comfortable. "We've got some time."

:::

"We should probably talk about lunch," Blaine says reluctantly around one o'clock.

"Right," Kurt agrees after a while. He doesn't move to start the car.

The windows are totally foggy and Blaine's a little surprised that none of the security guards or parking attendants have come to investigate. He kind of wants to keep pushing their luck.

"Let's sit in the back seat," he suggests.

"Okay," Kurt says, looking surprised. "I think I actually have some granola bars back there, if you want."

Blaine's stomach protests but a few minutes later, he's in the backseat with his head in Kurt's lap and suddenly, a granola bar is totally enough.

:::

An hour later, his head is still in Kurt's lap and they start talking about college while Kurt plays with the collar to Blaine's shirt.

"He's currently of the 'if you don't talk about it then it isn't real' mindset," Kurt tells him. "I don't think it's sunk in that she's leaving."

"So they just don't talk about it?"

Kurt shrugs. "It's worked for Finn so far."

"I don't want us to be like that," Blaine says abruptly. "I don't want to ignore anything just because we're nervous about what it could mean." Truthfully, though, he and Kurt have always been really good about being honest with each other and he's not particularly worried.

"Okay, well then let's talk about next year," Kurt says reasonably.

"Talk about what?" he asks, confused. He stares up at Kurt.

"About college," he answers.

"Okay," Blaine says slowly. "What's there to talk about?"

Kurt pauses. "Did you assume that we'd stay together?"

Blaine doesn't answer. "You didn't?" he asks instead, stung.

"I did," Kurt admits. "But sixty seconds ago you said we should talk about these things."

"Okay, then," Blaine says, relaxing. "Well, now we've talked about it."

He starts thinking about Finn and about how worried he must be. Blaine knows how miserable he'd be if his future with Kurt was so incredibly uncertain.

"Maybe we should hang out with him some more," Blaine offers. "He's probably lonely."

"Okay," Kurt agrees. Then he laughs quietly.

"What?"

"Two years ago, if you would have told me that my boyfriend would be suggesting that I spend time with my brother, I probably would have laughed at you."

Blaine smiles.

"I felt so alone all of the time," he tells Blaine. "And now I have a fabulous step-mother, an over-protective brother and an amazing boyfriend and suddenly, my dad and I have more than just each other to lean on."

"I wish we would have known each other," Blaine says again. "We could have told each other that it gets better."

:::

It's three thirty and Blaine's stomach is definitely a little peeved but Kurt's curling into him as he tries to lie down and Blaine ignores the hunger pangs some more. "I don't think you're spineless, by the way," Kurt says softly as he settles closer. Blaine's not exactly sure how they're going to balance on the narrow seat but whatever, he's totally going to try.

"Okay," Blaine replies, not sure what else to say. It's always a little embarrassing to talk about it and sort of a blow to his self-esteem.

"I mean it," Kurt pushes. "You let me get away with stuff sometimes but I think it's normal to do things just to make someone else happy."

"You do?" Because that sounds a whole hell of a lot like spineless to Blaine.

"Of course," he answers. "Like how I wore that awful scarlet and grey jersey to the football game."

Blaine laughs. He almost felt bad encouraging Kurt to wear a jersey so that he'd look like a true Ohio State fan because it made it sound like Blaine was asking him to fit in but then Kurt bedazzled it and managed to look like a true Ohio Sate fan while not fitting in at all and it was one of the best things Blaine had ever seen.

"Or how I was the plus one to your cousin's wedding and subjected myself to an hour of interrogation from your drunk uncles."

"Yeah," Blaine says. "Sorry about that. But hey, they liked you and it was worth it, right?"

Kurt rolls his eyes and doesn't answer. "Or when you needed me to go to Wal-Mart?"

Blaine thinks for a minute. "You make good points," he tells Kurt. "Thanks, I feel better."

He really does, too, because maybe giving into each other doesn't mean that they're spineless; maybe it just means that they know how to be good boyfriends.

:::

Kurt's phone rings around five.

"It's my dad," he says slowly.

"Answer it," Blaine instructs him. "It'll just get worse."

"Hello?" Kurt says as he hits the 'OK' button on his phone. "I know, Dad. I know. Okay -- I'll be -- no it'll take longer that."

He looks at Blaine and cringes. "Columbus." He pauses. "The zoo."

Blaine's phone rings right then and the caller ID tells him that it's his mom. Oh god, he's probably grounded and maybe he and Kurt didn't think this all the way through. He remembers the Google link from earlier titled 'How to skip school and not get caught' and he's regretting their choice to not check it out.

Five minutes later, they're pulling out of the semi-empty parking lot to make their way home. Blaine can't help but to laugh. "We skipped school and sat in a parking lot all day, Kurt. We didn't even get out of the car. We're ridiculous."

He shrugs. "It was a good day."

"True," Blaine agrees. "But I don't think I've ever been so lazy in my life."

"And I think I'm grounded," Kurt tells him.

"Yeah, I think I am, too."

They're quiet and then Kurt quickly looks over before turning his eyes back to the road. "It was worth it."

"Totally," Blaine replies. And then: "We should probably get something to eat."

"Yes," Kurt sighs dramatically. "I'm so hungry. I feel like one of those starving hyenas from the Lion King."

And okay, really weird analogy but whatever, Blaine chalks it up to hunger pangs. "The drive through," he says. "We won't have to get out of the car. A perfect ending to the day."

"Very fitting," Kurt agrees.

On the way home, Blaine thinks about how underrated skipping school is. He's not exactly planning on making a habit of it, of course, but he'd do it all over in a heartbeat. Doing nothing with Kurt just makes him want to do everything.



:::



Gluttony:
(or: Overeating: A lesson in food poisoning)

"So projectile vomit is a real thing," Kurt tells Blaine. "That's an interesting fact."

Blaine groans from his spot on the cold linoleum floor, still hunched over the toilet. "Thanks for being so sympathetic," he responds. "It's endearing."

"I'm just saying that I've learned a lot about vomit these past two days," he says.

Blaine gags. "Awesome, glad you've learned so much. Maybe you should go submit a Wikipedia entry."

"Look, I'm here with you, aren't I?" Kurt asks, rolling his eyes. "I'm cleaning up your tiny piles of vomit, which is totally disgusting, by the way, so that should count for something."

"Yes," Blaine agrees, resting his head on the toilet lid. "But you keep saying vom -- that 'v' word, so it's canceling everything else out."

He shakes his head. "You had to have known you'd vomit, Blaine."

"Seriously, stop," Blaine pleads, feeling his throat close. "I can feel my throat closing."

"You brought this on yourself, you know."

Blaine closes his eyes. "There you go with the empathy again."

"Well, you did," Kurt sighs. "How many hot dogs did you actually eat?"

He gags and feels his throat closing yet again at the mention of food.

"What did you expect?" Kurt asks. "Tubed meat isn't exactly healthy, Blaine. It doesn't really have its own spot on the Nutritional Pyramid."

Blaine opens his eyes and tries to raise his head to glare at Kurt. "You really fail at the sympathetic boyfriend thing, just in case you were wondering."

Kurt ignores him and makes his way over to the bathroom sink to re-dampen the washcloth with cool water before placing it back on Blaine's neck. "Yes but I'm an excellent nursemaid, though," he says finally.

Blaine agrees irritably. Because yeah, Kurt's terrible as a boyfriend right now but he's definitely nailing the nursemaid thing. He watches Kurt thoughtfully.

Kurt narrows his eyes. "You're thinking about me as a candy striper right now, aren't you?"

Blaine frowns. "No. But now I am, thanks." It's a pretty kickass visual, pretty much the only visual he's had all day that didn't make him dry-heave.

He sighs and rolls his eyes.

"You should become a doctor," Blaine suggests.

"No one looks good in the one-size-fits-all ensemble, Blaine."

"You would."

He sighs again. "I'm not spending seven years in college just so you can see me in scrubs. It's a terrible idea."

Blaine forces down another wave of nausea by focusing on his sweet new visual. "It's a great idea, actually."

Kurt blinks. "I'm not dressing up like a doctor for you."

Blaine lowers his head again, genuinely disappointed.

"That's what Halloween is for," Kurt says quietly.

His head shoots up to look at Kurt and bad idea because his stomach gurgles in protest.

"You'd dress up like a doctor?" He tries to figure out how long it is until Halloween but his brain isn't really up to the task of simple addition at the moment.

"Maybe," Kurt shrugs. "I'd like you to firmly grasp the idea of healthy eating habits before we worry about anything else, though. I'm guessing you don't know just how small the human stomach actually is, hence the blatant disregard for, you know, eating like a normal human being."

Blaine tries to block out most of what Kurt's talking about, things like eating and the size of his stomach.

"Why did you eat so many?" Kurt asks after a few minutes. "I leave you alone for ten minutes and when I come back, you're practically bursting with an entire package of Oscar Meyers."

He feels his stomach bile rumble around. "God, Kurt, please stop. I'm serious. Stop."

"Sorry," he says, waiting.

Blaine sighs, totally not wanting to have this conversation, partially because he has to talk about food some more but also partially because Kurt's going to be pretty annoyed.

"It was an eating contest," he explains finally.

Kurt blinks. "You were having an eating contest. With whom?" he asks, even though he already knows the answer.

He shifts cautiously. "Finn," he answers quietly.

"Finn," Kurt repeats. "You got into an eating contest with Finn."

Blaine doesn't answer.

"Finn?" he asks again, a little less calmly. "Are you kidding me, Blaine? I feel like I don't even know who you are."

"I can explain," he says weakly.

"You've had dinner with my family many, many times, Blaine," Kurt continues, ignoring him. "I know you've seen how much he can consume in one sitting. Are you insane? What in the world would possess you to do that?"

He's quiet. "Can I have a glass of water?" he asks, deflecting.

Kurt huffs and fills a little paper cup for him. He sits next to Blaine and offers it carefully.

Blaine takes a few sips. "It was a feeling of … inclusion, okay?"

"What?" Kurt asks, confused.

And Blaine's not entirely too sure how to answer that. All he knows is that Finn treats him differently than he treats all of the other guys in glee club. Not because he's dating his brother but maybe something even more, something stronger. There's absolutely no way Blaine's going to toss around the word brother-in-law because it's way, way too soon for anybody to be using that word but he really doesn't know what other words to say. Finn treats Blaine like he knows he'll be around for a long time, somebody that'll be around the Hummel household long after the last glee club competition of the year, long after graduation.

"I don't know," Blaine says instead of saying any of those other things. "But when I'm at one of your family things and he's acting like I totally belong there, it just -- I don't know. He can convince me to do a lot of stupid things. Sometimes I do stupid things because of you." It sounds kind of terrible coming out of his mouth and not at all what he actually means but whatever, he just spent the last three hours hunched over the Hummel toilet so he doesn't feel too badly about not being able to articulate himself.

Kurt bites his bottom lip and after a few moments, he says, "You make me feel really good about myself sometimes."

Blaine stares at him blankly. "That's great. I'm glad my weakened state manages to inflate your self-esteem."

"My self-esteem is perfectly fine, thank you very much," he replies with an eye roll. "That's not what I meant. I just meant that you say things that remind me that I love someone that loves me back, if that makes any sense."

And Blaine thinks about how Kurt's spent the last few hours with him, hours wherein Blaine's looked oh-so-classy with his head over the toilet while making oh-so-classy noises, thanks to a bag of grilled turkey dogs. Kurt's stayed with him without complaint (although arguably unsympathetic) and yeah, it makes a lot of sense. He thinks about Kurt sitting with him holding a damp washcloth and a paper cup and remembers that there's a boy he loves that clearly loves him back.

His day starts to look a little brighter, failed eating competition notwithstanding.

:::

"Moderation," Kurt tells him a few months later as Blaine manages to find himself hunched over another toilet. "Moderation."

"I don't understand it," Blaine chokes out. "I didn't even drink that much."

Kurt raises an unimpressed eyebrow. "Mike's toilet and Rachel's god-awful sweater beg to differ."

"I didn't," Blaine swears. "I swear I didn't."

"I have to admit, Rachel's sweater is a welcome casualty," he says, ignoring Blaine. "Although I've definitely seen enough of your projectile --"

"Kurt," Blaine warns.

"Okay, fine," Kurt sighs. "I won't say it. But I've definitely seen enough of it to last a lifetime."

"I'm sorry, okay?" he apologizes weakly. "And if it makes you feel better, I'm never drinking again."

Kurt stares at him in disbelief. "That's what you said last time. The time that you made out with Rachel Berry."

Blaine rolls his eyes because he's been ready for it all night and so much for water under the bridge. "There it is, the obligatory spin-the-bottle reference. I've been waiting for you to say it for hours now. So you've got that out of your system now, right?"

Kurt eyes him. "I think we should really be more worried about getting things out of your system, don't you think?"

He feels his stomach rumble. "You suck, Kurt. Go away."

He sighs and settles next to him on the floor, finally quiet.

There's a knock on the door and Finn peeks in. "He feeling okay?"

Kurt shrugs. "He's still in the whole 'oh poor me' phase but he'll be fine, I'm sure."

Blaine groans and tries work up enough energy for a glare. "I cannot wait until you're sick and I can be heartless to you."

He examines his nails and looks bored. "Good luck with that. I, unfortunately for you, know how to eat and drink in moderation."

Blaine sighs and goes back to staring at the toilet seat.

"Rachel's not pissed about her sweater," Finn offers like maybe he thinks it'll make Blaine feel better. It really doesn't.

"Fantastic," he tells Finn.

"Yes," Kurt agrees. "Fantastic. The world celebrates the loss of an animal sweater. Let's rejoice."

Finn shrugs. "Whatever, I'm mostly just glad he and Rachel didn't end up fooling around again."

Blaine rolls his eyes because he maybe hates the two of them right now and seriously, how has one kiss turned into fooling around?

"It's just weird," Finn continues, "knowing that my brother's boyfriend fooled around with my girlfriend." He pauses for a minute and squints his eyes. "That's totally not a sentence I ever thought I'd say."

"Stop talking," Blaine pleads. "Both of you. You're actually making me feel worse."

"Sorry," Finn apologizes. "Everyone wanted me to check on you. Make sure you weren't like, dying."

"Thoughtful," Kurt says. "Tell them I'm taking care of him just fine."

Blaine closes his eyes briefly and swallows back his annoyance because no, he totally is not. Kurt waves Finn away and Blaine hears the door close behind him.

"You can go, if you want," Blaine suggests. "I don't want you to miss the rest of the party on my behalf."

He shifts closer to Blaine. "You're not making me miss the party," he says, voice soft. "I'm going to stay with you until you're feeling better."

Blaine doesn't say anything.

"Despite what you may think, I don't actually enjoy it when you're like this. I don't get some sick pleasure from it."

"I know," he sighs.

"I guess -- I just don't know what to do for you. I feel helpless."

Blaine tilts his head to look at Kurt. "I'm constantly hovering on the border of nausea, Kurt. All I need is for you to just try not to push me over. Don't talk about food. Or alcohol. Or Rachel's sweaters."

Kurt frowns. "Easy enough, I suppose."

"Just stay with me," Blaine finishes. "You don't even have to say anything."

He nods and begins to gently rub Blaine's back.

"Thanks," Blaine says.

After a few minutes, Kurt pauses. "So how many wine coolers did you actually have?"

Blaine shakes his head. "You're awful at this. I'm never getting sick again."

Kurt shrugs. "That's probably a wise decision."

He closes his eyes again and tries to re-visualize the candy striper thing.

:::

Sadly, he totally does get sick again.

"God, why do you do these things?" Kurt asks him as he sits next to Blaine, hunched over yet another toilet.

"It's an allergic reaction," Blaine groans. "I didn't really have a choice in this."

"Well, why did you take it if you were going to have an allergic reaction?"

Blaine sighs and pushes the hair out of his face. "I didn't know I'd -- you know what? I'm not even going into this. I need you to sit there and not say anything."

Kurt stands to get him a glass of water. "I'm just impressed that you made it to the bathroom in time. No projectile --"

"Stop," Blaine says, holding out his hand. "Stop talking."

He presses a few paper towels to Blaine's forehead and places a few more to the back of his neck. He feels Kurt sit on the floor and desperately hopes that he doesn't say another word. Kurt's presence is undeniably comforting as long as he's like, not talking at all.

"So do you think you've thoroughly emptied your stomach? Do you still feel anything swimming around in there?"

Blaine clenches his jaw.

"Sorry," Kurt says quickly. "No more commentary."

"I know you well enough to know that that's so not true."

He's quiet for a few minutes. "Just think about the whole candy-striper thing. See if that helps."

Blaine considers it. It totally does.

:::

And then finally, finally, the tables are turned.

"Moderation," Blaine says sweetly. "Why do you do these things?"

"It's the flu," Kurt mutters as he closes his eyes and tries not to get sick again. He carefully looks up at Blaine. "There's really no graceful way to hover over a toilet, is there?"

"Nope," Blaine says with a smile.

Kurt narrows his eyes. "You're really enjoying this, aren't you?"

And Blaine totally wants to admit that he is but Kurt sort of looks miserable and his hair is all uncombed and he just generally looks all kinds of self-conscious.

"No," he confesses. "I'll stop gloating."

"Appreciated," Kurt sighs.

Because when Blaine stops to think about it, it really sort of is gross watching your boyfriend get sick. And it's probably a lot easier to sympathize with someone sick from influenza than with someone sick from eating their way through an entire package of hot dogs. Kurt's actually been sort of gracious about it, in an entirely unsympathetic kind of way.

"Here's a washcloth," Blaine says as he presses it to Kurt's neck. "You're right; I totally do feel helpless."

Kurt nods and closes his eyes. "It's definitely not glamorous, no matter which side you're sitting."

"It's not," Blaine agrees. Watching Kurt get sick really isn't any better than Kurt watching him get sick.

"I guess this is what they mean when they say in sickness and in health," Kurt says.

Blaine swallows thickly. "I guess," he replies softly.

"I'll get better at it," Kurt promises. "When you're sick, I mean."

He smiles. "I'm not too worried about it, Kurt."

Because yeah, knowing Kurt will be there next to him (while probably being just as soothing as he is irritating), it's really the most comforting visual he can get.



:::

part two.