Chapter Text
Kurt really didn't want to come.
In 8th period he started feeling off. All he wanted to do was go home and sleep for 14 hours. He was wondering if maybe he’d ingested some of the mud that Veronica had knocked them in last night.
Or maybe it was just cold and flu season and he needed to get over it.
The second he got home, he kicked off his shoes and climbed the stairs. He stumbled into his room, discarded his backpack by the door, shut the curtains and collapsed on top of the blankets. (He didn’t have the energy to get under them.) He was asleep in mere seconds.
He woke up to someone nudging him. He peeled his heavy eyes open to see his dad. "You okay, kiddo?" Kurt groaned in response. "Do you want me to bring some dinner up?"
Kurt mumbled a "mm-mm" in the negative and winced as his stomach flipped at the thought. His dad felt his forehead and clicked his tongue. Paul made sure a thin blanket was actually covering him before he left.
The next time he woke up it was to someone else nudging him awake. "Dude, did you forget? Heather D said she was having a party tonight." Kurt grunted and tried to roll over. "Since when do you go to bed this early?" Ram asked.
"What time is it?" Kurt asked, instead of answering Ram's question. He flopped onto his back, taking in his surroundings. "Eleven?" Ram told him, sounding confused. And if Kurt didn’t know any better… concerned? Kurt grunted again, rubbing his face.
"Come on!" Ram insisted.
Kurt could have told him how he was feeling. He could have told his friend to 'fuck off'. But there's still this part of him that feels the need to be strong at all times.
He also feels better than earlier, which is a low bar, but whatever. So here he is: standing in Heather's yard, a solo cup of God knows what in his hand and his head pounding from the noise and flashing lights.
He hasn’t had a single drop of alcohol because he knows it isn't a good idea with his empty and churning stomach. He lost track of where Ram went a while ago, and for the first time in his life he's standing in the corner of a party like a loser.1
At some point he makes his way inside to find the bathroom. He cringes at how awful he looks when he sees himself in the mirror.
If Ram had seen him in the light, he definitely wouldn’t have dragged him here. He actually doesn't remember how they got here. Did they drive? Nah… walk maybe? That seems right.
There's a big part of him that wants to curl up on the bathroom floor and sleep until the party's over. Actually he wants to go find Heather's bed and sleep there. They dated once, he knows where her room is.
He should probably ask first… but does Heather still care about him enough to let him do that? Actually she's kind of mean these days. He groans, the floor is hard… and cold. Wait, when did he lay down? Oh, well…
He's starting to drift off when someone knocks on the locked door. He jolts back to awareness and wipes the drool off the bathroom floor with his sleeve. He stands shakily, and opens the door.
It's someone he doesn't recognize, but they look like they need the bathroom more than Kurt does at the moment so he lets them have it. He heads towards the stairs on instinct and ends up sitting on them (on a high enough step that if someone comes around the corner he’d see them first). He slumps against the wall and dissociates.
He starts to feel worse and worse and he wants nothing more than to go home. He has to walk there though. He makes his way back downstairs and into the backyard again. The noise of the party makes his headache worse and the smell of alcohol and smoke certainly doesn't make his stomach stop turning.
He shoulders his way through the crowd, thankful when no one questions him. Whether it was because they're too drunk, don't care, or don't notice… he didn’t mind.
He finds Ram wearing a similar football jacket to the one he has on, and pulls him away from the chick who was flirting with him. "Thanks dude, she was weird," Ram says, still oblivious to his friend's declining health.
"Ram" Kurt leans away from him to cough into his elbow. "Yeah?" He asks, a little concerned as the party lights begin to reveal the true color of his friend's face.
"I want to leave," he says softly. "Uh okay, I mean the party just started…" Ram says, hesitantly looking over Kurt’s shoulder at the rest of the party.
"Please," Kurt pleads pathetically. "Okay…" Ram sighs, "Can I say goodbye to Heather?" Kurt looks and feels like a kicked puppy but he nods anyway.
Ram doesn't miss the look on Kurt’s face. "Are you okay?" Kurt doesn’t want to lie, but he also doesn’t want to disappoint Ram. "Uh, not really," he says, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking down.
Unfortunately for Kurt, the gate is on the other side of the yard. Ram takes Kurt’s wrist and leads him through the crowd. Kurt squints his eyes so they're almost completely shut.
By the time they reach the gate and exit the yard, Kurt wants to die. Ram still has his wrist but Kurt tugged out of the hold to lean against the cool, brick wall of the house.
"What’s up?" Ram asks curiously. Kurt takes a minute to respond, breathing deeply to try and stave off nausea. "Don’t feel good," he finally admits.
He pushes himself off the wall and starts down the path to the street. "How much did you drink?" Ram asks. Kurt knew his limit, (which was a lot) and never goes that far so it's weird for him to be unwell at parties.
"Nothing," Kurt says with a huff. Ram looks over at his shivering friend. "Are you sick?" Ram asks, putting the pieces together. "I think so," Kurt admits shyly.
Ram frowns, "I wouldn’t have dragged you here, if you had said something." Ram says, knowing he would never have let Kurt drag him to a party if he was the one feeling sick. Kurt doesn’t respond, he just crosses the street… Ram follows quickly.
Eventually, Ram is the one in front of Kurt and an unusual silence has settled between them.
Ram glances over his shoulder to see how pale Kurt has become. "Hey, you good?" Ram asks. He receives a guilty stare and a visible swallow. "Dude, you look like you’re gonna hurl…" he comments.
Kurt claps a hand over his mouth. Ram curses and rushes to his friend's side. He guides him to a patch of grass. Kurt pitches forward with a retch that had his mostly digested lunch splattering the ground below.
He expects Ram to say something like 'gross!' or make a joke or leave him to walk home alone. So he's incredibly surprised when Ram starts rubbing his back and shoulders. He throws up again and tears spring to his eyes at the pain it inflicts.
"Jeez, I’m sorry buddy, I really shouldn’t have dragged you out here…" Oh, he feels guilty... That's almost worse. "S’not your fault," he slurs to try and reassure his friend.
"Let’s get you home, yeah?" Ram suggests. “Yes please…” Kurt steps away from the puddle of vomit at his feet.
Ram is happy to support most of Kurt’s weight as they walk home. He feels bad for not realizing his best friend was feeling sick. Of course, Kurt’s feverish brain wouldn't feel like he could say no. He can feel the heat radiating from Kurt as leans further into Ram's side.
—
Finally, Ram leads Kurt up his driveway, then up to his bedroom. Halfway up the stairs, Kurt makes a strange noise. Ram glances down to see that his face is pinched in a way that indicates he is ready to revisit his breakfast.
"Okay, hang on!" he whispers. Ram hauls him the rest of the way up the stairs. The bathroom is right at the top of the stairs so he pushes the door open and flicks on the lights.
The toilet would have been ideal but Kurt's stomach has other ideas… he throws himself over the sink as his stomach heaves. He can tell that Ram turns the water on, and then he begins to rub his back again. A few more tears fall as he feels himself pulling a muscle with the force of his stomach's contractions.
Ram hears a door open and turns to see Paul emerge from his bedroom, looking tired and unsurprised. His eyes do widen when he sees Ram, they awkwardly smile at each other. Ram doesn't stop rubbing Kurt's back as he starts a conversation with Paul. "Where do you keep the thermometer?"
"The cabinet above the sink." Ram reaches above Kurt with his free arm and finds the thermometer pretty quickly. He pulls Kurt's bangs out of the way and runs the thermometer over his forehead. He notes the shivers running down Kurt's spine. The thermometer beeps just as Kurt's heaves turn to pants. "102.3," he reads.
"Can I lay down?" Kurt asks, sounding congested. "Yeah, buddy," Ram says, setting the thermometer down and taking Kurt's weight from the sink. As Ram leads him down the hall to his room, he sees Paul go into the bathroom, most likely to clean up a bit.
He deposits Kurt into the mess of sheets before tucking him and pulling the trash can over. He notices Paul standing in the doorway and glances down at Kurt who's already half asleep. "I’m not even gonna ask why you’re in my house." Paul says, shaking his head.
"Can I stay?" Ram asks. "Always," Paul says, smiling at the two kids he'd watched grow up together. "Wake me up if there’s any more vomit to clean… or if you two need anything else." He tacks the end on… just in case. Ram nods and Paul closes the door.