Work Header

Top Shelf Sundae

Chapter Text

It’s a rare night when Kurt actually watches one of Blaine’s games on TV. They’ve been dating for over a year, and Kurt finds that he’s pretty well versed in hockey at this point. He may not ever be as into it as Blaine is, or even as much as his dad or Finn are, but he can at least follow along and tell if the Blue Jackets are winning.

He’s half-watching, half-working, and he’s balancing his tablet on his lap while the game goes on at a low volume. He smiles when he catches short glimpses of Blaine out on the ice or sitting on the bench, then focuses back on his sketches for a few minutes, a bag of popcorn and a bowl of melted ice cream on the end table next to him.

Blaine is currently in Tampa Bay as part of another long road trip and they haven’t seen each other in over a week, but just being at home - at their home - makes Kurt feel close to him. Watching Blaine in action also helps, and Kurt always swells with pride when Blaine has a good game, even if there’s nobody around to hear him cheer Blaine on after a goal.

Kurt sets his tablet down and stretches his arms over his head, wincing at the crack of his shoulders. He’s about to get up and grab another glass of wine when he catches the end of what the announcer on the TV is saying.

Anderson is on the ice and he’s not getting up. Medical team is heading out…

With his hands clamped over his mouth, Kurt watches a small group of men run onto the ice, where Blaine is face down and not moving. He feels like he should be doing something, anything other than sitting there, but he can’t move. Kurt’s vision starts to blur and he remembers to blink just before the tears that had been welling up spill over onto his cheeks and trickle down his fingers.

Blaine’s arms and legs finally move, but now there is a stretcher out on the ice and Kurt can’t breathe properly. His phone is ringing but he’s stuck, watching as the man he loves is carted off to who-knows-where hundreds of miles away. Kurt’s phone rings again and Kurt pries his hand from his face and picks it up, his fingers shaking as he presses the ‘Accept Call’ button.

“Dad?” Kurt can barely hear himself over the sound of his heart thumping in his ears. “Did you see?”

“Yeah, bud, I saw. That’s why I’m calling. I wanted to make sure you’re alright,” Burt says, but Kurt isn’t paying much attention. He’s still watching the TV intently, cursing the stupid commercials playing. Who the hell cares about laundry detergent when Blaine is hurt?

“Oh god, Dad, what if he’s - ”

“Kurt, don’t. I’m sure he’s fine. This kind of stuff happens all the time. They’re used to it.”

“Not helping.” Kurt jumps up from the couch and sprints to his bedroom with the phone pressed to his ear. “I need to go there. I need to see him to make sure he’s okay.”

“Kurt, you can’t just drop everything just because he got hurt,” Burt says firmly. “These things are gonna happen and you’re gonna have to sit tight until you hear from him.”

Kurt is already throwing clothes into his largest carry-on bag. “No, I’m going. I have to.”

Burt sighs loudly and Kurt grabs his toiletries from the bathroom. “Keep me in the loop, alright?”

“Yeah, I will. Love you.”



Four hours later, Kurt is running through Tampa General Hospital’s front doors. He finds the reception desk and asks for Blaine, but he’s told that since he’s not immediate family, they can’t tell him anything. Frustrated and struggling to breathe properly, he pulls out his phone and dials Cooper’s number, thankful that he’d saved it the last time he and Blaine visited LA together.

“Cooper? Blaine’s hurt and they won’t let me see him and I don’t know what to do.”

“Kurt? Calm down. What happened?”

“He got hurt during a game and he’s in the hospital and I’m in the hospital and the heartless demon at the desk can’t tell me anything.”

“Okay, listen. I’ll make a couple calls and see what I can find out, alright?”

“Fine, whatever, just hurry up, please.” Kurt hangs up and starts pacing. His carry on bag swings from his shoulder, bouncing off his thigh with each step. Too many minutes later, a man Kurt recognizes as one of Blaine’s trainers appears.

“Kurt, hey,” he says, offering Kurt a handshake. “I was just upstairs. Blaine’s alright, but he’s got a concussion. Took a big hit to the head, but the doctor said he’ll be okay.”

Kurt collapses into one of the discolored chairs lining the reception area, dropping his bag to the floor at his feet. “Thank god. When can I see him?”

“Visiting hours start at 9 am.” He pats Kurt’s shoulder, aiming for reassurance but failing miserably. Kurt is shaking with the extreme need to see Blaine alive and well with his own two eyes and no friendly pat is going to cut it. “Get some sleep. He’ll be here until tomorrow just in case.”

Just in case, Kurt thinks. That’s what they say right before something awful happens.

Kurt nods and gives Blaine’s trainer a feeble wave as he walks away, leaving Kurt to his own panicked thoughts. He checks the time and sees that it’s after two in the morning, but sleep seems like the last thing he should be doing. Kurt sends a quick text to his father and tries to get more comfortable in the stiff chair. Eventually, he dozes off, but not before setting his alarm for 8:45am.


In the morning, Kurt freshens up as well as he can in the bathroom, then approaches the reception desk again and asks for a pass to visit Blaine. Cooper must have pulled through because he is on the approved list of visitors and he quickly snatches his yellow visitor ticket and heads for the elevators.

Once he reaches Blaine’s room, Kurt is taken aback with how much he’s feeling. He has spent too much time in hospitals in his life and it was never because of something good. Ever since his mom died, hospitals have been a source of sadness and dread, and this time was no different. Sure, Blaine may be fine now, but Kurt knows that can change at any moment.

Nobody else is there yet, so Kurt quietly walks into the room. Thankfully, there are no scary machines other than an IV tower, which he takes as a good sign. Blaine is still sleeping with his mouth open, drooling a little on the pillow and snoring softly. Kurt sets his bag down and sits in the chair next to the bed, taking Blaine’s hand as soon as he’s settled. He watches the rise and fall of Blaine’s chest closely and eventually finds himself breathing in the same rhythm. After a few minutes, he lays his head down on the edge of the bed, exhausted from a restless sleep, and soon his eyes slip shut.

Kurt wakes up to the feeling of fingers running through his hair and automatically tilts his head toward the touch. It takes him several seconds to remember where he is, but when he does he jumps up to Blaine watching him and laughing.

“Easy, tiger. It’s just me,” Blaine says, his voice scratchy from sleep. Kurt regains his composure and sits down next to him, looking him over for any signs of physical distress or abnormality. “Kurt, I know what you’re doing. I’m fine.”

“Yeah, well,” Kurt huffs and plays with Blaine’s fingers. “I just want to make sure you’re okay, that’s all. I was worried.”

“I know. You didn’t have to come all the way here, though.”

“Of course I did.” Kurt swallows the lump that’s starting to form in his throat. “I was watching. I saw you on the ice, and you weren’t moving, and god, I was so scared.”

Blaine sits up higher in the bed and scoots over, reaching his arms out, and Kurt climbs up next to him. Kurt curls up against Blaine’s warm body and buries his face into his shoulder. As much as he misses Blaine while he’s out of town, this was not the reunion he wanted.

“I’m sorry for making you worry,” Blaine tells him, kissing the top of Kurt’s head.

“It’s not your fault. Just don’t do it again, alright?”

“I’ll do my best.”