"No way, Brian, I am NOT drinking that."

About to urge the mug towards Curt one more time, Brian pulled his hand away when Curt coughed roughly. The sound rasped in his chest and Brian winced each time Curt exhaled with a sharp, painful cough. If the noise grated on his ears this much, he could only imagine what the coughing was doing to Curt's already raw throat. Sitting down at the kitchen table next to Curt, Brian pushed the mug over. He tried for an encouraging smile when Curt finally looked at him, brushing the hair back off his face.

"What?" Curt sniffled harshly and cleared his throat.

"Go on then, just drink half of it. It's only tea."

"That's not tea. Tea is fucking Lipton, not this weird smelling shit you're giving me."

"You're too stuffed up to tell what it smells like. It's chamomile."

"Oh." Curt replied, unimpressed. He sniffled, rubbed his nose, and looked as if he were about to say something, but changed his mind. Another harsh sniffle and Curt groaned. He reached across the table to grab a tissue, held it before his face for a second, and brought it to his already pink nose. "HahKESHH! Kishh!! Ehh�KhShoo!"

"Bless you." Brian moved both himself and the tea closer to Curt. He was bound to accept one of the two for comfort, and if he wasn't going to drink the tea, Brian wanted to at least be there to hold him. He was certain Curt wouldn't come out and ask to be taken care of. Yet, Brian wasn't quite sure how to offer, beyond the soothing touches and blessings.

"Yeah, than � heh! thanks. EhKISH!!" Leaning forward into the sneeze, Curt curled in on himself. He immediately started to blow his nose and remained in that position.

"You shouldn't have gone on stage tonight." Brian bit his lip and kept the rest of his comments to himself. They had fought over this before the concert and even then it did not seem worth the waste of breath or energy. With a sigh of resignation, Brian reached over and stroked Curt's hair. It was still damp, even though it was three in the morning and the concert had ended two hours ago. Brian ran his fingers through Curt's long bangs. His forehead felt warm to the touch and Curt shivered when Brian pressed his hand there. "Are you cold?"

"Sort of." Curt shrugged. "I was fine before the show, it wasn't a big deal."

"You were high." Brian muttered. There were enough people smoking weed backstage to ensure that, even if Curt hadn't done any himself. That, and the liquor he drank before performing tonight, had probably kept the exhaustion and illness from affecting Curt. But now there was nothing to mask the wracking cough, frequent sneezing, congestion, and what appeared to be a low-grade fever. Brian would have to take Curt's temperature. In the morning, he decided. They'd both be more alert then, or at least he would be. Brian rubbed Curt's arm and nodded toward the tea. "You're not going to drink it, baby?"

"No, sorry. I just don't feel like it, Bri." He sounded so tired. Brian rubbed his arm a little more gently, urging him nearer until Curt rested his head on Brian's shoulder. "Thanks anyway."

"Shall I pour some whiskey in it?"

"Maybe next time." The soft laugh turned into a cough, but not a wrenching fit like before. Curt rubbed his chest through his t-shirt anyway, a pained look on his face as he swallowed. "Damn, but that's starting to hurt."

Glad Curt couldn't see the worried look on his face, Brian kissed the top of Curt's head. He buried his face in Curt's hair and nuzzled it. He loved how it smelled � reassuring, warm, with a tinge of part sweat, part smoke, and all Curt. Looking down, Brian kissed Curt's forehead. His eyelids had drooped shut, and when he opened them again, Brian could see the red rimming Curt's eyes. "Let's get ready for bed. You want to take a shower?"

Curt thought for a minute, scrubbing his eyes with the back of his wrist. The look of confusion on his face didn't clear. Bringing his other hand up to his face, he pulled away from Brian. For a few moments he sat still, hands cupped over his nose and mouth, eyes half open so that the light caught the gold in his eyelashes. With what sounded like a cough, he jerked forward. "Ehhpt!! Chishh!! HuhESHH! Eishh� EhhIhshoo!"

"Bless you." A pang of tenderness shot through Brian's heart. Often he thought he was stronger than Curt in strange and dangerous way that would come to harm the two of them. But now that strength equated to protectiveness. Passing Curt a handful of tissues, Brian blessed him after another two sneezes. "You don't have to shower, maybe you should just go to bed."

"Doesn't matter," Curt mumbled into his tissues, "HuhChshh! Kishhuh!"

Brian gnawed his lip while he watched Curt alternate between blowing his nose and coughing. Curt was, well, he was Curt. He'd seen his lover cry softly with pain and curse loudly with built up anger, but even those emotions never made Curt seem especially sensitive. He was still just Curt. Beautiful, daring, scarred, intense� oh, Curt. Brian stroked the hair that fell into Curt's eyes and over his face. "Do you want to shower with me? Or so you feel too sick?"

"Brian, I'm not fucking dead. Just tired." He coughed once more into a closed fist and looked at Brian. "What?"

"I, nothing." Still stroking Curt's hair, Brian shook his head.

"Like hell. I know that look." Curt sniffed loudly. A soft smile played on his lips as he took the tissue Brian handed him. "Thanks. Now, are you going to tell me?"

"It's nothing, Curt." Brian hesitated. "Do you think I should call a doctor?"

"Fuck, no." Exasperation tinged Curt's reply. "And that's not what was bothering you, Brian."

"It's nothing, Curt." Nothing that he could describe anyway. Something like violent care, making him want to take Curt away from everything, away from music, and crowds and screaming fans and druggies. Burying his face in the curve of Curt's neck, Brian inhaled deeply. He slid his hand up the front of Curt's shirt, rubbing his chest through the thin material of his t-shirt. "Love you."

"Mmm�" Curt sighed slowly, loud enough that Brian could still hear the congestion in his voice. "That wasn't an affectionate look, though."

"It is now."

"Oh, yeah." He laughed quietly when Brian whispered against his ear. A small shiver made him tremble, just barely, and Curt turned to Brian. "You feel so good. Warm."

Sliding his free arm around Curt's shoulders Brian kissed the side of his neck. Maybe they could just go to bed. He'd taken off his make-up backstage and Curt's eyeliner hadn't lasted long after his eyes started tearing. Bed would be so much warmer. Brian licked Curt's skin, just below his ear, then kissed him when Curt shivered again. It would be much easier to get Curt into bed this way than having to admit that look he had on his face a few moments ago was one of worry.

"Bri?"

Pressing his lips to Curt's neck once more, Brian made a small noise. He stroked his fingers over Curt's chest.

"Bri, hold on a sec, I, EhhKishh!" The sneeze burst out suddenly after a half gasped breath that was hardly distinguishable as Curt spoke. The next few, however, were perfectly noticeable. Curt's chest heaved beneath Brian's palm, which remained there even when Brian pulled away to let Curt sneeze. "HuhhCHSShhhuh!! Hehh� Ehishhh! AhSHOO! EhhSHOO!" His breath shuddered this time and a few loud coughs tore harshly from Curt's throat.

"Come here," Brian murmured and got up from his seat. He rubbed his hand up Curt's chest, over his shoulder and around to the back of his neck. "You need to rest."

"HehhISHH!" Curt sneezed before he could answer, and sneezed again before he could take a breath. "EhhSHH! HehShhuh!"

"Bless you."

Nodding, his hair falling over hunched shoulders, Curt grabbed another handful of tissues. Brian could see the tension in his back as he sat half-crouched in his seat. A series of inhaled, broken breaths sounded just as tortured as Curt looked. Brian swallowed back to the urge to wrap his arms around Curt. He moved his hand gently over Curt's neck, stilling it when the soft gasps turned into a louder breath that froze mid-way.

"Hehh�CHOO! EhhChishhuhn! HehCHH! Ehh� Chhshh! Chshhh! Keshhuhnn!!" The sneezes ended on a loud, strong note and Curt slumped over. He looked up when Brian rubbed the back of his neck and motioned for Brian to leave him alone. "Gimme a minute, I'm okay." Curt shook his head gently, wiped his nose on a handful of tissues, and raised bleary eyes. "Bed?"

"Yes." Brian nodded. He put an arm around Curt's waist and walked him into their bedroom. For a second he thought about calling Mandy and asking her for help, but decided that was a bad idea. Calling Jerry also occurred to him, but Brian dismissed that thought as soon as it appeared. Asking Mandy for help was useless, asking Jerry was just stupid. Neither of them cared for Curt the way he did. "All right, Curt?" Brian asked as they sat down on the bed.

"Mmm�" A cross between a grunt and a sigh, the noise Curt made was ambivalent. Curt shrugged out of his shirt, shivering violently afterwards. "Well, maybe not�"

"Shh� no, you'll be all right. You'll be all right," Brian murmured comfortingly as he eased Curt out of the rest of his clothes. Taking off his own clothes was easier and in a few seconds Brian was pulling Curt down next to him on the bed. "You just need some rest."

"How many times have you said that in the past few minutes?"

"Too many. And that's because it's true." Brian leaned up on one elbow. His fingers threaded through Curt's hair slowly as he spoke. "You look tired as hell."

"Yeah, you look great, too." The words were quiet and hoarse. Curt coughed roughly, but did not open his eyes even when the spasm ended. He passed one hand over his chest, rubbing cautiously, and smiled when Brian's fingers touched the back of his hand. "Closer?"

The question, asked so plainly and without pretense, convinced Brian to curl his body around Curt's before he could think about what Curt had asked for. His lips moved over Curt's neck in a smile. This was what he supposed to do to take care of his lover. "You're going to sleep, Curt?"

"Mm� can't sleep without you here." Curt mumbled, sniffling tiredly. "Night, Bri."

"Good night." Brian smiled again. It was not about making tea that Curt wouldn not drink or calling a doctor that his boyfriend would be rude to, though all those things would help. He kissed Curt's warm skin and settled into bed. It was the closeness.

But he would try with the tea again tomorrow morning, anyway.

finis

[17 March 2002]