Author's Note: With this I wanted to have a fic that had the main focus on the Furt aspect instead of the secondary focus. &, of course, my favorite medium for that sort of thing is a sickfic. Not sure how long this fic is going to go on or everything that's going to happen. We shall see. Thanks for reading!

Oh, and it is K+, but there is one F word in this chapter. I don't expect very much bad swearing at all so that's why I'm not making it T just for this 1 instance. If I put more in later I will change it.

-SQ

Disclaimer: Glee belongs to Ryan Murphy. I am not Ryan Murphy. Therefore Glee must not belong to me.

Chapter One: A Change of Plans

Kurt woke up to a pounding in his head which he blamed on bawling his eyes out while watching The Titanic for the fifth time the night before. He sat up in bed and the room around him lurched sickeningly.

Okay… Not the usual reaction to watching sad movies before bed.

It took him nearly a minute to disentangle himself from his comforter and get his feet firmly onto the floor; his muscles seemed to be working in slow motion.

It was the first day of Spring Break, his dad and Carole were out of town, and he didn't have any plans. With the disconcerting feeling that he was moving through putty, Kurt sat down at his boudoir, applied his morning moisturizers, combed his hair to perfection, and then covered his pajamas with a silk kimono bathrobe.

Finn was already downstairs, piling strips of bacon liberally into a frying pan.

Kurt opened the fridge, pulled out a container of Greek yogurt, and added a few layers chopped fruit and granola before sitting down at the kitchen table and taking a bite.

"Morning," said Finn without turning around. "Want some bacon?"

"Alright," said Kurt, his voice sounding strange in his own ears, as if his head was half-submerged in water. Or cotton balls.

"Sure thing," said Finn, adding a few more strips of bacon to the frying pan and turning on the stove. Kurt continued to eat his parfait. "Any plans for the day?"

But Kurt didn't answer. As soon as the aroma of frying bacon reached his nostrils he felt his stomach heave.

Finn turned around when he heard his step-brother's chair crash to the floor.

"Kurt?"

Still holding the plastic spatula he padded across the tiled floor and into the hallway.

"Kurt?"

The hall bathroom door was closed, but light was filtering out from under it into the hallway.

"Kurt?" said Finn, feeling exceedingly awkward as he rapped his knuckles lightly against the door. "Are you in there?"

"Yes," came the hoarse reply.

"Um…are you okay?"

Silence.

And then, "No. I just threw up."

"O-okay…" said Finn. "Can I come in? Are you, uh, do you have all your clothes on and everything?"

"Yes."

Finn turned the doorknob and let himself into the half-bath. Kurt was kneeling on the tiled floor, brown head bent over the toilet, white-knuckled hands gripping the edges of the seat.

"Bro, what happened?"

Kurt raised his head. His face had lost all of its color and his blue-gray eyes were watering profusely.

"I—I don't feel very well."

"Apparently not," said Finn, squatting down beside his step-brother and nearly filling up the entire bathroom space. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up."

Finn took Kurt's hand and pulled him up off the floor, offering him a dixie cup full of water to rinse his mouth out with.

"Thanks."

Kurt took a deep breath and felt his stomach lurch again, though luckily this time nothing came up.

"Your bacon is burning."

"Oh, crap," said Finn. "Stay right here." He sat Kurt down on the toilet.

Finn rushed out of the bathroom and back to the kitchen. The pan on the stove was beginning to smoke. He quickly turned off the stove and wafted the smoke away with his hand before making his way back to Kurt.

The other boy was still perched on the edge of the toilet seat, looking miserable.

Finn winced.

"Dude, you don't look so hot."

Kurt raised his eyes slowly to meet his step-brother's.

"Imagine that."

"Sorry, bro. I—uh—do you want to go upstairs and lie down?"

"That would be nice, yes."

Finn hauled Kurt to his feet and wrapped his arm around the shorter boy's waist.

"Ooooh, God," said Kurt, swaying and closing his eyes against the dizziness.

"Kurt? Are you okay?"

"No, Finn," snapped Kurt. "I'm not. Do I look okay?"

"No," admitted Finn. "You don't. Here."

The quarterback bent his knees, put his free arm behind Kurt's legs, and scooped his step-brother up into his arms like a baby.

"Finn, what in the world are you doing? Put me down!"

"Not a chance, dude," said Finn.

He carried the protesting boy up the stairs and deposited him on his bed. Kurt glared despondently up at him.

"That was incredibly humiliating."

"And puking your guts out in the bathroom wasn't?"

Kurt just narrowed his eyes, wincing as a sharp pain shot through his head.

"Ow!"

"What? What is it?" Finn looked down at him anxiously

Kurt swallowed down another wave of nausea. "Just—just my head."

Finn put a hand on his hair, a gesture that under normal circumstances would have earned him another heated glare and a painful slap.

"Is there—uh—anything I can get you—I dunno—an ice pack or something?

Kurt patted his hand.

"You're sweet, but you have absolutely no idea what you're doing, do you?"

Finn shook his head. "No," he admitted. "I've never taken care of anyone who's sick before… I really want to help you feel better though."

Kurt smiled. He couldn't help it. His step-brother was just so adorable sometimes.

"Some water would be nice."

"Oh, sure, no problem." Finn stood. "Oh! Do you want me to bring you the thermometer while I'm at it? So you can, you know, take your temperature?"

"Sure," said Kurt. "And go ahead and eat that bacon too. No need for you to starve because I can't keep anything down."

Finn patted his shoulder.

"Okay. I'll be back in a few minutes okay?"

Kurt waved him away. "Go, go, I'm not going to expire in your absence."

Finn nodded and left the room. He didn't have a clue what his step-brother had just said, but he was used to that.

*****WBAF*****

Finn was back five minutes later with the water and the thermometer.

Kurt looked at him with raised brows.

"That was fast."

Finn just shrugged and handed Kurt the cup of water.

"Thanks," said Kurt. He took a sip and began to splutter and cough.

"Whoa!" said Finn, pounding him on the back. "Easy!"

He took the cup from Kurt's hand.

"You okay, bro?"

Kurt nodded, his eyes watering, and took the cup gingerly back from his step-brother.

"Careful," Finn advised. "I don't want you, like, passing out on me."

Kurt finished the water and leaned back against the headboard, eyes closed.

"Are you, uh, feeling any better?" asked Finn, feeling awkward as he loomed over the smaller boy on the bed.

"Not really," said Kurt. "Less thirsty though. And you can sit down," he added, patting the bed beside him.

"Oh. Okay." Finn sat. "Um…I brought the thermometer."

Kurt took it and put it in his mouth. Finn watched him. He wasn't usually the overly emotional type, but something about the sight of his step-brother sitting there, looking so weak, tugged at his heart-strings.

The thermometer beeped and Kurt pulled it out and looked at it.

"Fuck my life…"

Finn peered over his shoulder.

"101.6? That's pretty high, right?"

"Yes," said Kurt. "That's pretty high."

"Um…" Not quite sure what to do, Finn hesitantly put his arm around Kurt's shoulders. "Is—is it alright if I do this?"

Kurt smiled slightly.

"Yes, Finn, it's alright. You know, a year ago I would have given my entire sweater collection for you to carry me places and have you sitting next to me with your arm around my shoulders."

"You—uh—don't feel that way now, do you?"

Kurt shook his head. "No, Finn. I love you dearly, but not in that way. My heart belongs one hundred percent to Blaine in that respect."

Finn looked relieved.

Kurt let his head drop onto Finn's shoulder

"Hey, Finn?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry I snapped at you."

"No, dude, you're sick, it's cool."

"That's not a very good excuse for snapping at your brother."

Finn smiled and squeezed Kurt's shoulders.

"Hey, I've been through a lot worse from you."

Kurt had the grace to look ashamed.

"Look, Finn, about last year…"

"Nah, bro, it's cool," said Finn. "Forget about it. Hey, whaddaya say I take you over into my room and we play a couple rounds of video games? I'll let you choose."

"Don't you have a date with Quinn to get ready for?" said Kurt. "There is no way you are going out of the house looking like that."

"What's wrong with this?" asked Finn, looking down at his sweatshirt. "And thanks for reminding me, I've got to call Quinn and cancel."

"Cancel?" said Kurt. "Why?"

"Well I can't very well leave you alone like this, can I?"

"Finn, no, don't cancel your date because of me. I'll be fine."

Finn looked at him skeptically. "You don't look very fine. And I know how much it royally sucks to be home alone when you're sick. No, I'm staying here with you."

Kurt opened his mouth to protest some more, but Finn had already pulled out his phone and selected Quinn from his phone book.

*Ring. Ring. Ri—*

"Hello?"

"Hey, Quinn. It's Finn."

"Hi," said Quinn. "Are you calling because you forgot the time of our date?"

"Um, actually, no," said Finn. "Quinn, I'm sorry, but I'm not going to be able to go with you to Color Me Mine today."

"Excuse me?"

Finn fidgeted.

"Kurt's sick and I've got to stay home and take care of him."

"What, is he, like, five, Finn? Kurt can take care of himself."

"I know," said Finn. "But it just doesn't feel right to leave him here all by himself when he's sick. Our parents are out of town and we're supposed to be responsible for each other."

"Oh, please, I'm sure Kurt wouldn't mind if you went out for a few hours this afternoon. Let me talk to him."

"Quinn, that isn't the point," said Finn.

"So you're just going to blow me off?" Quinn demanded.

"No! I mean… Quinn, I really want to go—"

"Obviously not that badly—"

This isn't fair, Quinn. He's my brother."

"Your step-brother," said Quinn.

"Finn," said Kurt. "You don't have to—"

"Quinn, look, I'm really sorry, but I can't go to Color Me Mine today. I have to stay home with Kurt."

"To make this relationship work, Finn, you've got to be committed! If we want to be elected Prom King and Queen—"

"Is that all you ever think about?" said Finn. "Because I thought you cared about more important things. I thought you of all people would appreciate how important family is.

"He's not even your real family," said Quinn.

"He's what I've got," said Finn.

"You know what, Finn, I'm really disappointed in you."

"Wait, Quinn—"

But the line had gone dead.

Finn put down the phone and knuckled his forehead.

"Finn, you didn't have to do that."

Finn sighed and shook his head.

"Kurt, when our parents got married I promised I'd be there for you. I can always go out with Quinn tomorrow, or later on this week. Provided that she forgives me… Quinn can be really scary when she's angry."

Kurt smiled and let his head fall back onto Finn's shoulder.

"The next time I'm a bitch to you, remind me of this, okay?

Finn laughed. "Will do, bro. Now what do you say about those video games?"

Kurt considered. He felt pretty icky, but not tired enough to fall back asleep yet.

"I guess I might be up for a couple."

"Alright. I am so totally going to pwn you."

Kurt giggled. "Considering I'm sick and I never play video games, that's a pretty safe assumption."

AN: Yes, the parents are out of town purely for plot convenience. Ditto for it being spring break. I know perhaps Dalton wouldn't have the same spring break as McKinley, but then again it might, and I'm deciding that for this fic it does. Details like that, & whether Kurt and/or Blaine board, & what Blaine's parents do for a living, etc will change between my fics to whatever works best with where I want to go with a particular story.

Thanks again for reading (& reviewing?)

-SQ