Indulging myself because I too am feeling like death.

Blaine wasn't sure how he hadn't spotted the signs earlier, but he supposed at least part of his ignorance could be blamed on not having any coffee before rushing off to his 8:30 class. Even as he ran to Kurt's side, part of his brain was going Well, that explains how shaky Kurt was earlier. Guess it wasn't just his normal clumsiness.

For the most part, though, his brain was screaming in panic as Kurt started to crumple toward the pavement in NYADA's tiny quad.

"Kurt!" Blaine called out as he ran. "Kurt!"

He dropped to his knees just in time to keep Kurt from smacking his head on the pavement, though he could tell that Kurt's knees would probably be feeling some pain later - they'd hit the ground pretty hard, if the thump was any indication.

Kurt groaned unintelligibly, moving an unsteady hand to cover his eyes.

"Hey, baby, hey, I've got you," Blaine said softly, adjusting carefully so he was sitting on the ground with Kurt's head in his lap. He petted over Kurt's hair as he continued, "It's okay, I've got you."

"Don' feel good," Kurt slurred, a statement Blaine thought might have been the understatement of the century.

"What's wrong?" Blaine asked, feeling vaguely relieved when Kurt's eyes fluttered open.

"Head. Stomach. Throat," Kurt listed before trying to sit up. "But 'm fine. Need to have weekly lunch date. Need to give presentation in class later. Not sick. No time to be sick."

"You may not have time to be sick, but that doesn't mean you aren't," Blaine said with an eye roll. "C'mon, we're going to campus health."

"But the food there is terrible," Kurt joked, paling. As they stood up, Blaine noticed that he had to swallow heavily, which he assumed was to keep from vomiting.

"If you can honestly tell me that the thought of eating anything doesn't make you want to throw up right now, fine, we won't go," Blaine offered. After another moment of Kurt vigorously swallowing, he continued, "Yeah, that's what I thought."

"Be nice to me, I'm sick."

"Oh, now you admit it," Blaine teased gently, looping one arm around Kurt's waist and pulling Kurt's right arm around his own shoulders. "Tell me if you need to stop, okay?"

"I will. Thanks, Blaine," Kurt said, sagging into Blaine's side.

"Anytime."

"Blaaaaine. I think I'm dyingggg."

"Well that's really unacceptable. I'm going to need you to reconsider," Blaine said with a smirk as he walked out of the kitchen, bowl of chicken and dumpling soup in hand.

"Ha ha," Kurt said, shooting Blaine a murderous look. The coughing fit he broke into spoiled some of the effect, though. "Ugh. I thought getting my flu shot was supposed to prevent this."

"I heard that the vaccine they mixed this year was missing one of the strains," Blaine said, plopping down onto the couch by Kurt's head. "Guess you got unlucky."

"Of course," Kurt said, scooting forward to push his head into Blaine's lap. "Because what I needed on top of four final projects was the one strain of the flu virus that the vaccine didn't cover."

"Hey, you already got extensions on two of them," Blaine said, rubbing over Kurt's head and shoulders slowly and rhythmically. "Just focus on getting better for now."

"Easy for you-" Kurt broke off into another fit of coughing before continuing, "-to say."

"Literally," Blaine teased.

"I'm going to cough directly into your face next time," Kurt said, unamused.

"Even after I made you some delicious soup and queued up a Real Housewives marathon on Netflix?" Blaine asked, batting his eyelashes obnoxiously.

"What location?"

"Atlanta, of course. Do you think I'm some kind of idiot?" Blaine said with a scoff. "I know you."

"You're the best," Kurt said, melting into Blaine's lap. "Thank you for taking care of me. I know you have stuff you probably should be doing."

"What's more important than taking care of my husband?" Blaine asked. He bent awkwardly to drop a kiss to Kurt's hair, noticing a suspiciously wet sniffle as he straightened up. "Kurt?"

"It's nothing. Just emotional because I'm sick, that's all," Kurt said, dabbing at his eyes with his sleeve.

"You sure?" Blaine just kept stroking over Kurt's back, letting him gather his thoughts.

"It's just - Mom died when I was so young, and then Dad could only take so much time off of work to take care of me. He'd do accounting paperwork or parts orders when I was trying to sleep off a fever or something, and then once I was like fifteen I just stopped letting him see when I was sick. I've never had anyone take care of me like this," Kurt admitted, making Blaine's heart clench. "It's - kind of nice."

"God, sometimes I forget how different our lives were," Blaine said, more to himself than to Kurt. "I want to take care of you, okay? If I'm ever overstepping, please tell me, but don't assume you have to hide the fact that you're sick from me. Better I stay up a little too late doing work than you end up in the hospital because you ran yourself into the ground."

"As long as you do the same for me," Kurt said, locking eyes with Blaine. "I know you don't like feeling like a burden, but being sick isn't the same as being deadweight, which you never have been and never will be anyways."

"I might make good on that promise in a couple of days, depending on how contagious you are," Blaine said, blinking tears out of his eyes as he smiled.

"I look forward to it," Kurt said, curling up on his side. "But for now - could you grab me some ibuprofen? I think my brain is trying to burst out of my skull."

"Be right back," Blaine said, gently lowering Kurt's head to the couch before dashing off to the medicine cabinet. He handed Kurt a pill and a paper cup full of water, then leaned in to kiss his forehead fleetingly. "With a little bonus."

"A kiss to make it better?"

"Can't hurt, right?"

"I suppose you have a point."