Standing in the kitchen, clad only in faded blue jeans and with shower damp hair clinging to his shoulders, Curt stared into a can of coffee. Breathing through slightly parted lips, he leaned closer to the container and sniffed. Too congested to actually smell the stuff, he plunked it down on the counter and shoved it away from him. If he couldn't smell it, he probably couldn't taste it, and if he couldn't taste it, what was the point of making fresh coffee?

He felt too sick to make it, much less drink it, anyway. He had been coming down with a cold for the past few days, but it was only this morning that he felt really and truly ill. Besides the stuffed up nose, Curt had woken up with a hot, sore throat and a faint tickling sensation in the back of his nose and ears. The feeling was hard to pinpoint, except when it intensified into the urge to sneeze. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Curt took a slow breath and ascertained that yes, indeed, he was going to start sneezing again. As the tickling built up, he kept his fingers and breath still. But when he inhaled sharply, Curt cupped his hand over his nose and mouth, involuntarily snapping his head to the side.

"Ahh, huh!Uhshhush! Ehishhoo! Ahh, hushhoo!" Fumbling a bit, he searched for the edge of the counter with his free hand and hunted down the pile of tissues he had placed there. "Ahh, Ehshhh!! huh!Chishhhhah!! Ehshoo, aschooh!! ehChoo!"

Curt grabbed the tissues between breaths, hastily wiping his hand on his trousers. He buried his nose in the tissues and bent forward as another fit of sneezes hit him.

"Ehh, Chusshh!! Hushhoo! Ushhoo, ahh, huh, hitschsshh!! Eshhaahh, ehshhah! aschooo!" Tissues still covering his face, Curt took a few breaths and leaned against the counter.

Although he had gone to sleep immediately after he got home from rehearsal last night, tiredness clouded his mind. He was not sleepy tired, however, but sick tired. Tracing the faded pattern of the linoleum with one toe, Curt chased the thought returning to bed from his mind. He had to finish getting dressed for one thing. Get dressed and go out, this time to an informal press conference. In the past few weeks, his life had become a flurry of such activities press conferences, interviews, parties, rehearsals, and shows. And in the center of this swirl of events stood the one person that made Curt give a fuck about everything. A sharp rap at the door told Curt that the same person now stood at his door, impatiently waiting to be let in.

Lowering the mess of damp tissues from his face, Curt walked to the door. He rubbed his nose, still itchy, into his wrist and blinked back the sticky feeling of fatigue.

"Morning, sunshine." Brian stood leaning against the doorframe and played with the blue silk scarf around his neck. "Not dressed yet, Curt? Really, mate."

Curt snorted back the tickle in his nose and watched as Brian walked into his flat. Pausing in the doorway, Brian gave him a quick smooch and then took off his coat.

"You're early, aren't you? I was, uh, just going to get come clothes." Curt rubbed his nose furiously as the tip tickled.

"Am I?" Shrugging, Brian tossed his coat onto the sofa. "I guess I am. I'll pick something out for you to wear. Mandy's having some friends over, I didn't want to get in her way."

With a gesture, Brian dismissed the subject and headed for Curt's bedroom. Topics like Brian's wife or reasons why Curt hadn't moved in with Brian yet were saved for when Brian felt like discussing them. Not fond of his lover's tendency to skim over such issues, Curt usually prodded Brian into talking. Today, mind, was not one of those times. Distracted by the constant sneezy feeling in his nose, Curt followed Brian to his closet.

"I like you in this," Brian pulled a dark green shirt out, one he had bought for Curt, "you look great in this color. All right, Curt?"

Paying more attention to the trouble his nose was giving him than to Brian, Curt nodded absentmindedly. He raised one hand to his mouth and held back the sneeze as much as he could. The tickling, however, had built up enough make stopping it difficult.

"Ahh, hehIshhah!" The feeling didn't stop after the one sneeze. Quickly thereafter, a tingling seized his nose and with an anticipatory gasp, Curt closed his eyes and tipped his head back.

"Aahh, Ihshhoo! Ahushhoo! Ahheshh, heiiyiishhoo!! Huhchoo!" He ignored the strands of hair that fell over his forehead and into his eyes, the sneezes still threatening to begin again. Curt sniffled thickly, touched the tip of his nose to the edge of one finger, and felt his eyes water. "uuhh, huh, hehheh, Ehh!! ahhah! HushUhh!! Ahchoo, Choo!! Ahh, eheshhoo!"

"Bless you," Brian exclaimed as Curt snuffled into the palm of his hand, avoiding Brian's eyes until he could stop the sneezes.

"Thanks, I, uhh, Huh!! AhhHuhchoo! Kehhchoo!! Aw, man, excuse me." Rubbing the bottom of his nose and speaking through increased congestion, Curt mumbled an apology.

"Bless you again, luv. Curt?" Brian folded the shirt over one arm and walked up to Curt. "You're not all right, are you?"

Brian's fingers pushed back the hair from Curt's face, his fingers lingering on Curt's cheek for a few moments. His eyes took on an odd expression, his hand sliding down to cup Curt's chin as Curt stood there sniffling and breathing jerkily through his mouth.

"Do you feel bad? You sound congested, and the sneezes, luv?" He tipped his head to one side. "Are you getting ill?"

The tenderness was odd, not unwelcome, but odd nonetheless. In the short time Curt had been with Brian, their relationship had quickly become more than that of casual lovers. He had fallen, and hard, the first time he met Brian. They had been coming closer and closer to admitting they had both fallen, fallen in love. But there was always something that got in the way. Something made up of seeing past the publicity stunt that made up a good part of their love affair, past the days and ways of Maxwell Demon and methadone treatment.

"I'm fine," Curt replied, "it's just a cold."

He took the shirt from Brian's hands and started to put it on. His nose was running now; the sneezes had eased up some of the congestion in his nose, but only enough to give him a ticklish case of the sniffles and not a clear nose. Once Curt had pulled both arms through the sleeves, he pinched his nose shut and walked to the bathroom.

"Are you sure? We don't have to go to the reception."

Brian's voice followed him into the bathroom. Curt pulled a few more tissues from the box and blew his nose. The tired, sneezy, stuffed-up part of himself wanted to stay home, crawl back into bed and sleep.

"It's not really important, Curt."

But the part of him that didn't want to disappoint Brian or get into another spat with Jerry knew they should go. When he looked up, Brian stood in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest.

"No, I'm okay." He pitched the tissues into the waste bin and smiled. "They'll just think I'm wasted, nothing new there."

"Don't talk like that." Small, almost too quiet to hear, Brian's voice sounded hurt. "I hate when you say things like that."

Rubbing his hands over his face, Curt felt his stomach twist in a funny way. He did look wasted half the time, no lie there. Although he gave up the smack for good once he got with Brian, that half-dazed, lost look still lingered in his eyes when he was drunk or tired. He sure as hell had that look on his face now. Curt hadn't even bothered to shave that morning, forget putting on eyeliner or fixing his hair. Wasted seemed kind, to tell the truth.

"What? What's wrong, Brian?" Curt buttoned his shirt, his voice sounding loud and hollow in the tiled room.

Fumbling at the buttons, his hands slow and his mind fuzzy, Curt blinked back the itch in his eyes. Nose running, he took a few short breaths, sniffled rapidly and felt a sneeze tingle in at the tip of his nose. A patient smile spread across Brian's lips as Curt mumbled another pardon.

"Ehhishhhoo!! Ahh, huhh! Ushhoo! Keishhahhoo!!! Ehh, hepp!tshooo!!" Sneezing over his shoulder, hands still grasping the front of his shirt, Curt took a step back from Brian. "Ehh, hishhhah!! Huhhishh, Shoo! Ahh, huhchoo!"

More congested than relieved by the sneezes, Curt exhaled tiredly through his mouth. He started to do up his shirt again and ignore the now ever present, low grade tickle in his nose. Brian's fingers pushed his out of the way and started to button the shirt for him. He looked up as Curt coughed into a raised fist.

"Nothing's wrong, I'm just being, I don't know." He finished with the buttons and smoothed down the front of the soft, green material. "You're so much more than some ex-junkie, all right mate?"

Slipping his arms around Curt's waist, Brian drew him into a loose hug. They stood there, the tile cold against Curt bare feet, Brian's breath warm in his ear as he leaned his head on the other man's shoulder. Curt sniffled, his hand automatically reaching up to scrub at his nose and eyes. Brian looked up as he pulled away and again moved Curt's hands, this time from his face.

"You'll just irritate your eyes more. Come on, put on shoes and we'll go. I'll have one of Jerry's people get you something to take for that cold." Brian held Curt's hands and leaned forward for a slow kiss. "And you don't look wasted, Curt. You look sick."

= = = = =

Wasted. Sick. It didn't really matter; he hated these sorts of gatherings. After spending the morning talking to the crowd of reporters and sycophants, Curt felt his nerves frazzling. Brian, of course, flitted from admirer to admirer, exercising the charm that was part of his inimitable image. Smooth, graceful, captivating all eyes in the room were centered on Brian. Boys, girl, whatever, they all watched Brian, including Curt. Hoping to escape the never-ending flurry of questions, Curt had snuck away from Brian and now was headed to observe his lover deal with the reporters from across the room.

Walking quickly, he pressed his hand to his nose for what seemed like the hundredth time that morning. Constant sniffles and sneezes had made the stream of greetings and questions unbearable, even with Brian tackling most of them. Forcing the tickles back half the time had not been easy, and fuck, he couldn't look any more ridiculous doing that than sneezing outright. Hand curling into a fist, he headed for the edge of the crowd.

"Hehh, HeppTishhhoo!! HuhhSHHOO!! Ehhishhoo, eshhoo, ah!! HuhChooo!!" Curt continued walking, taking a quick break as each sneeze forced itself from his nose. He ignored the train of people who either blessed him or called his name as he passed.

"Huhshoo!! Ehhiishh, heh!! Hehh, ehh, ahhhAHhhshhoo!!" His hand now damp and nose becoming overly sensitive, he pinched his nose shut to cut off the rest of the fit. "Uh, hnchhKshh!! Ungshah!! Ihh, HmppShahh!"

"Mister Wild!"

The sharp shout broke through the loud snerfling noises Curt made as he searched his coat for a handkerchief. Padding the pockets, he looked over his shoulder to see a rather bold magazine reporter approaching him. He groaned and pushed his index finger under his nose, the sniffles becoming more annoying as the handkerchief eluded him.

"Yeah? What the f --" he stopped, recalled how Brian had warned him to be 'civil' to the people here, and checked himself, "what do you want?"

"I was just wondering if you were allowed to answer some questions now that you're away from Brian Slade." The reporter smirked, his smile offering a challenge to Curt. "Or did he already prepare your answers just in case he wasn't able to watch you the whole time?"

"What the fuck do you mean?" There goes civil. "Leave me alone."

"Surely, you can answer a few questions. What's it like being with Maxwell Demon? Your candid statement, please Mister Wild?" The reporter pressed on, not put off by Curt's illness.

His numerous sneezes had earned him a few disdainful looks and had the benefit of keeping the more fastidious of guests away from him. With a sigh and a garbled pardon to the woman he just bumped into, Curt dug the now discovered handkerchief from his jeans.

"Listen, I said fuck off. And, huhh, I, I, ehh! Hushhoo!! Ahhshoo!!" Unable to stop the sneezes, he held the crumpled handkerchief to his face and started to move away. "Ahh, Ishshho!! Ishhoo, AhChoo!"

The sound of rapid footsteps followed him. Curt turned about, his voice an annoyed growl. "I meant it, okay?"

Curt took a few more steps away from the throng of people and rubbed his nose into the shoulder of his coat. Not warm enough to take it off, he kept the leather jacket on the whole time, only removing it after numerous promptings to take it off for a few photos. Pictures he sure didn't want to see, if he looked half as bad as he felt. Cold and cranky, he waved his pursuer away, even as another sneeze started to build up. The itch in his nose was, if nothing else, more persistent.

"Huh!UhhShhoo!! HehUshhooo! Uhshoo, ehh, Heh!!Choo! Ishhah, ehh, hehhshh! hishhoo!" After a half minute of gaspy breathing and attempting to push the sniffly feeling back, Curt jerked forward as the sneezes returned suddenly.

"Achhoo! Heh, ushhhah! Kitshhoo, ishhooo!" Violent and head spinning, the sneezes drowned out the buzz of conversation. "Ehh, hih, IhhChoo!! Ahh, hushhoo! AH!! Hehh! ahh, ihhChoo!!"

The pressure of a hand on his shoulder drew Curt back a few more steps. Eyes still shut he tried to shake the hand off, but was overtaken by a few more sneezes.

"Hehh, Choo!! Kehhishh!! Ahhhshishhh! ahh, huhh, ehh, eh!! eh!!CHOO!! Uhhh...." He wiped his nose a few times, shoulders relaxing as his nose calmed down. He nearly eased into the touch on his arm until he realized he had no clue who it was.

"Just let him be for now, I'm sure Mister Slade will be happy to deal with your questions." The owner of the hand spoke, a vaguely familiar voice, and pulled Curt away from the now crestfallen reporter. "All right, Curt?"

"What the hell do you want?" He turned around. "Oh, hey, man. Thanks, Trev."

Brian's lead guitarist stood next to Curt. A slow smile curved his lips and he handed Curt a glass of bubbling liquid.

"How are you doing?" Trevor asked and patted Curt on the back. "Here take this, it's all I could get for you. You sound awful, Curt."

"Thanks. I fell like hell. Uhh, 'scuse me." Forcing a breath from his throat, Curt stuffed the handkerchief to his face.

"Uhh, heh, choo! EhhChoo! AhhEshhhoo! Holy fuck, sorry." Curt waved the glass away as he rubbed his eyes and nose again. "I just keep sneezing."

"Bless you. You want sit down for a while?" Guiding Curt to the middle of the room, Trevor nodded toward a few empty seats. "These receptions manage to bore everyone except Brian, I think."

"Yeah, you might be right. He just likes being the center of attention, I think he likes to hear his own voice say his name."

With a tired yawn, Curt dropped onto the couch. The reception room in the Bijou records building was drafty and cold, a few chairs and settees in the center, around a large, bare coffee table. Few, in any, people were actually sitting. Most milled about, chatting and drinking the champagne that seemed to flow endlessly from some hidden source. Curt held one of the light, long-stemmed glasses in his hand, happy to have something to relieve the dry tickle in his throat. Alcohol probably wasn't the best choice the dizzying effects of champagne only made the headache he felt coming on worse but it would take more than a glass of the fizzy stuff to get him drunk. He raised the glass to his lips, ran his tongue over the smooth surface, and took a slow sip. Curt closed his eyes as the bubbly liquid tingled over his tongue and throat.

Hell, that was just a little too painful to be good. The cold champagne did not and emphatically so go down easy. Curt swallowed the stuff quickly, eager to make the wave of pain that tightened his throat go away. When Brian had asked for cold medicine for Curt, Shannon had given him a cup of lukewarm, weak tea and a pissed off look. He knew how she felt, well, the pissed off part of it anyway.

"Trevor?" Curt put the glass down with a grimace and cleared his throat.

"Yeah?" Taking his eyes off the girl who skimmed past them and looking back at Curt, Trevor took a glass from a passing waiter.

"Why did you come today? I mean, for fuck's sake, why?" Curt gestured toward the crowd of smiling, made up faces.

"Oh, the pretty girls." Trevor cocked an eyebrow as a blue-clad waif like creature smiled at him. "Pretty boys. Free booze."

Curt laughed as Trevor shrugged his shoulders. The laugh quickly degenerated into a coughing fit that left Curt's head pounding and a thin sheen of cold sweat on his forehead. Swallowing just enough of his beverage to quell the need to cough again, he leaned back against the seat cushion. At the same time, the room seemed to hot and too cold. His head had that sort of warm, sick feeling, as if he wore a too tight mask over his skin. But the cold made him less than comfortable, even underneath the layers of clothing and with Trev sitting so close to him. Pressing his hand to his forehead, Curt took a few congested breaths and swallowed.

"Sorry, I'm no fun today, that's for sure." Curt smiled weakly, his voice sounding more rough than it usually did, liquor and nicotine rasp included..

"Don't worry about it, man. How about you, you're the one who should've stayed home. That's one nasty cold you got, Curt. Do you mind?" Trevor glanced up at Curt uncertainly as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

Curt shook his head, but refused when Trevor offered him one of the smokes. The last thing he needed was to start hacking and choking on cigarette smoke. His chest was still protesting from the one that he had a few hours ago.

"For Brian, I guess. I mean, yeah, I came for Brian." The thought seemed so odd. Why else would he be here? He tried to come up with a better answer, but it all came back to Brian.

Trevor breathed out a steady stream of smoke and gave Curt a curious look. Nodding toward the small circle of people that surrounded Brian, he spoke as Curt directed his own gaze in the same direction.

"Brian's used to flirting with the general public, in fact," Trevor took another drag and smoke drifted from his lips as he talked, "he rather appears to enjoy it."

Brian, of course, stood with at least a dozen people around him. And they all looked intensely interested in what he was saying. Every so often he would lower his eyes and smile at one of the leeches and a ripple of pleasure would go through all standing there. Okay, damnit. Maybe Brian didn't need him as much as he thought.

"Brian, he's a performer, an actor really," Trevor smiled as Curt sighed, "it's hard to tell sometimes how real that enjoyment is. You have to watch him a long time to hey, you all right, Curt?"

Curt had tented both hands before his face, and nodded with distraction. He had been trying to follow, even understand, what Trevor had been talking about. But a tickle had insinuated itself down from his sinuses, trickled down past the bridge of his nose and refused to do anything but malinger. Slowly, the sensation made him take gaspy pre-sneeze breaths and he pitched forward.

"ehhh, HepTishhahh!! Ahhh, huh, HuhEshhhahh! AhhShoo, huhchoo, ehh, chi-iihh, ihh, ahh, ISHHH!!!" He pressed both index fingers to the bridge of his nose, felt his nostrils flare and sighed out a tiny breath before he leaned forward in his seat again. "Ahhh, HuhCHOO!! Ahhishhahh! Kishhoo, ishhoo, Nishhoo!! Ahh, hitishhoo!!"

" 'Scuse me, uhh, huhh, ehh," Curt gave a breathless pardon, holding back the tickling in his nose as if to stop the sneezes for a while.

"Don't go anywhere." Trevor clapped him on the shoulder and rose from the couch.

The odds that Curt would actually leave while he was gone were pretty slim. Wrestling back the itching in his nose had made his eyes tear and sting hotly, while the sensation in his nose came back even stronger. In the few seconds it took for the sneezing to start again, he felt an ice-cold shiver crawl up his back and a sharp ache lance through his head. Fuck, he felt bad. Even sneezing seemed to take up energy that he didn't have anymore.

"Ahh, hishhoo! Ishhhahh!! uh, Huh!Shoo! EhhEshhhooo!" Now uncontrollable, the sneezing had only paused, not stopped. Curt fumbled for his handkerchief, cursing to himself silently. "EhhChihhhssss!! HupChooo!! Kishhhaahh!! Ehh, heh, EhhChiihfffah!! Ahh, Huh!Chishhoo!"

The chilly sweat of fever dampened his forehead once again, and Curt felt the sick feeling of being hot and cold at the same time. He leaned back and closed his eyes taking slow, rasping breaths. Suddenly, cool, slim fingers brushed his hair from his forehead, smoothing it back from his face and tucking it behind his ears. A smooth, dry palm rested on his forehead and slid down to cup his cheek. Opening his eyes, Curt looked into Brian's eyes, surprised and confused.

"You need to go home, Curt. Why didn't you tell me how sick you felt?" Brian stroked his cheek gently, looking more nervous and scared than angry. "I was worried about you, I wish you hadn't let me drag you here. We should have stayed home, luv."

Curt started to protest, but instead of words a hitching gasp came out. He turned his head away from Brian's touch as his eyelids flitted shut.

"Ahhishhoo!! Ishhhahh! Ehhishhoo!" Shaking his head, Curt rubbed his nose furiously with the crumpled handkerchief. "I don't know, man, don't you need to be here?"

"Need? I need... Curt? Where did you get into that bad habit?" Laughing at Curt's annoyance, Brian grabbed both Curt's wrists and took his hands away from his face. "I know your eyes itch, but that isn't going to help. Do I have to take care of you?"

Blinking away the irritation, Curt smiled wearily. His nose was running enough to tickle, and he turned his head and snuffled into his shoulder. Curt waited a moment, tensed his body and held back a sneeze. Brian squeezed his hands quickly before rummaging for his own, clean handkerchief.

"Let me rephrase that, Curt luv." He fluttered the handkerchief before Curt's face. "Let me take care of you?"

Curt frowned with distaste at the delicate, blue silk handkerchief Brian handed to him. Where the fuck did Brian get these ideas, that he should be running around with fucking silk handkerchiefs and fussing over Curt? Curt blew his nose loudly into the handkerchief and sighed with relief. He looked over at Brain and dropped his hands into his lap. Brian wanted to take care of him, and of course, Brian usually got what he wanted. And sometimes, like now, Curt had to admit, he wanted the same thing as Brian.

"Take care of me? I'd like that, yeah, I'd like that a lot."

= = = = =

Curt woke up slowly, a dull ache in his neck and back reminding him that he had fallen asleep on the couch. As he lifted his head and shoulders from the cushion, he noticed a blanket had been laid over his body and his jacket had been removed. Fully clothed except for his boots, the discomfort of falling asleep in jeans rivaled the sleepy warmth and threatened to dissipate the calm that had settled over his senses. The sudden dizziness and pain that shot though his head forced Curt to close his eyes, leaning his head against the armrest instead of sitting up.

Massaging the back of his neck, he let the sleepiness fade from his mind and started to remember how he ended up on the couch in his apartment. Brian had pretty much walked out of the press meeting, a sniffling and sneezing Curt in tow. They had taken Brian's car back, and Brian had given him a few spoonfuls of something wretched that made a wave of nausea rise up in his throat and drowsiness tug down his eyelids after a few minutes. He had crashed down on the couch, Brian's voice, upset and tense, as he talked on the phone the last thing he heard.

The medicine Brian had been so proud to procure had worked well enough to let him sleep, but the congested, ticklish feeling returned as wakefulness did. The tickle in his nose flared up strongly, and Curt sneezed suddenly and violently.

"HuhIshhooo!! HuhChoo! EhhChoo!" After the harsh sneezes, the room seemed very quiet and head spinning as Curt lifted his head from the couch again. He searched for Brian, but only spied his shoes and scarf tossed next to a chair.

With a groan, Curt shut his eyes and exhaled through his mouth. There was supposed to be a dinner later tonight, with the Bijou records personnel and some other high-ups. The idea that he was keeping Brian from that pricked at his conscience for a moment. He really would rather Brian stay with him. But asking Brian to stay felt odd, awkward. It was that same problem, of letting himself admit how he felt about Brian.

The rustle of newspaper and quiet footsteps across the room broke the silence. Curt opened his eyes once more, blinked back the dizziness and turned his head. Late afternoon light lent a muted glow to the room, no lamps were lit and only the sunlight created long shadows. Brian walked over slowly from the kitchen, a worried smile on his face.

"Hey, sleepy head," Brian whispered as he knelt by the couch, "how are you feeling?"

"Tired." Turning his head and coughing, Curt started to become more aware. And with that awareness, he remembered how very sick, as well as tired, he felt.

"That cold medicine really knocked you out, Curt." Brian laughed nervously and was quiet for a moment.

He then dipped his head forward and touched his lips carefully to Curt's forehead. They rested there, soft and warm against his skin, for a while until Brian kissed him a few times and then drew away.

"Can you sit up and drink a little tea? I'll get you some aspirin, I think you're running a temperature." Brian started to stand up, then paused as Curt gave him a confused look. "Yes, luv?"

"You've, uh, uhh, Huh!Chooh!" Reaching one hand from underneath the blanket, Curt rubbed his face and cleared his throat, "you've been here the whole time I was sleeping?"

"Of course." Smiling, Brian stood up and squeezed Curt's shoulder. "So, some tea?"

Curt nodded and moved to pull himself into an upright position. Since waking, his nose had been tickling gently, a tiny, almost imperceptible feeling in his stuffed up nasal passages. Rubbing his nose into the top of his hand, he could feel a sneeze working it's way out. Hand curled into a loose fist and hovering before his face, Curt took a few labored breaths. The last breath caught in his throat and Curt brought the hand to his cover his nose.

"Ehhuhhh, huh! HuhhIshhhoo! Uhhhishhh! Hushhhooh, achhh!Tshaoo!! Ehhh, ohh, AhhYesshhahh!" Sniffles muffled by his hand, Curt looked at Brian and sighed wearily. Brian's hand tightened on his shoulder once more. "EhhTishhhah! Ishhihh!! Ashoo!"

"Bless you, baby. I'll get you some tissues, too, okay?" Brian kissed Curt quickly on the cheek and returned to the kitchen.

Curt sat up as Brian left the room and heaved a sigh. He was cold, sick and dazed miserable, but he felt safe and good. Somehow he knew that if he curled and went to sleep, when he awoke again those lovely bright blue eyes of Brian's would be there for him. It was fucking silly, and he knew it, but he was too sick to care. The thought felt good, nice and comfortable, and he wallowed in it for a few minutes, listening to the clatter of dishes from the kitchen. A wan smile crossed his lips and he shivered. The sneezes from earlier returning, Curt took a slow, deep breath and shut his eyes.

"Ishhhoo! AhhKeshhah! Huhh, huh, Uhh! HeehTishhooo!! Aheehhishhoo!" In the background, he could hear Brian walking though the room again as he held his breath in the anticipation of another sneeze. "Ehh, hishhoo! AhhChoo! Shuhhoo! heh, uhhshhhoo! Uhh, uhh, huh! Tishh! Tishhoo! Ahhtisshhoo!!" The numerous sneezes made his nose run and burn as the warm tingling lingered. "uhhhuhshh!! HihChishhoo! Huh-choo! Ahh, Choo!"

Brian sat down next to him, even as more sneezes threatened, and carefully slid an arm around his shoulders.

"Here, love, tissues," he stuffed a handful of tissues into Curt's free hand and gave him a little hug. "God bless you."

Taking the wad of tissues, Curt thankfully wiped his the dampness from his hand. He brought them to his face and gave his nose a fast rub, knowing that he'd start sneezing soon.

"EhhKishhah! Ahh, HuhChoo! Ahhshoo! Ehhh, hehihh, ehhChummff!" The fit ended with a soft cough from Curt, his nose and throat now irritated from the sneezing. He wiped his nose in the tissues, slumping forward.

"Bless you, again." Rubbing his back, Brian spoke soothingly, as if nothing were more important than the fact that his lover just had a major sneezing attack. "Do you always sneeze like this when you get ill?"

Curt lowered the tissues from his face and thought. Did he? He never stopped to think about it, usually just sneezing as much as he had to and not paying much attention. It felt like he was sneezing all the time when he caught cold, but he couldn't remember anyone ever caring enough to notice. He touched the dry edge of a tissue to the base of his nose and started to answer.

"Uhh, I guess, ahh, Itishhoo! Ahhchoo! Choo!" Curt sneezed rapidly, twisting his head away from Brian. "Ahh, ahChoo! Ehtishhih! oh, I'm sorry. Yeah, I guess I do, huh?"

Brian tightened his arm around Curt and nuzzled his face in Curt's neck, pressing tiny kisses there and murmuring. "I'll take good care of you, don't worry."

With a yawn, Curt settled down on the couch next to Brian. He adjusted the blanket clumsily, legs still tangled in the cover which he just realized, Brian must have draped over him after he fell asleep. And Brian must have removed his jacket and shoes, making sure he was as comfortable as possible.

"I'm not worried, Brian," he smiled slowly, making a sniffling sound to stop the itch in his nose.

Brian stopped reaching for the mug of tea on the table next to the couch and moved closer to Curt. He placed on hand on Curt's chest, warm and loving, and leaned forward to kiss Curt. Slow, sweet, gentle, he slipped his tongue into Curt's mouth. Curt lost himself for a second in the melting warmth of Brian's kiss. He pulled away, only to be snuggled in closer to his lover.

"Don't want you to get sick, too, Bri," Curt mumbled.

"Oh, that's not an issue, and a few kisses won't make a difference, considering." Brian held the mug up to Curt's lips, urging him to sip the hot tea. "Now, drink a little, it's cooled off enough."

"What?" Curt drank the tea quickly, spluttering as he coughed and then wiping his mouth in the sleeve of his shirt. "What? Considering what?"

"Considering I'll be spending the night with you, of course. Now, take the aspirin and calm down." He forced a few of the small pills into Curt's hand and watched as Curt swallowed them down painfully.

Curt cradled the mug of tea in his hands and leaned back into Brian's embrace. Brian, spending the night with him, in his flat, when he was sick. He had been right. He had nothing to worry about.

finis