At first everyone laughed. It was dodge ball. Nobody got seriously hurt; they just got the occasional bruise, sprained ankle, maybe a fat lip, but the laughter died down when Blaine didn't get up. Quinn was the first to say anything. She'd been enjoying ripping the other team to shreds, and Blaine was her strongest ally. He was little, but the boy could jump.
"Blaine?"
Kurt's head flicked round immediately to where Blaine was sprawled on the floor, face scrunched up, clutching his stomach. A ball flew towards him, but he caught it and threw it at Santana, smacking her on the shin.
"Ow! Ease up, princess, it's just a game!"
Kurt ignored her and ran over to Blaine, who was sucking in frantic breaths and coughing intermittently.
"Blaine, honey, are you okay? Can you get up-"
Blaine tried to cut him off but he couldn't speak. He shook his head and held up a hand, but quickly had to grab at Kurt's arm as the tightness in his chest didn't go away.
Santana glanced nervously at Brittany and Mercedes. The game ground to a halt and she tried to shrug it off.
"Whatever. Maybe if he'd remembered to wear the rest of his shorts they would have broken his fall."
Kurt glared at her.
"Are you kidding me? He can't breathe, just because of some ridiculous argument between you and Finn, and you think it's funny?" Blaine rubbed the back of his head, but stopped when Kurt looked at him. Kurt narrowed his eyes at him. "Did you hit your head?"
Blaine took another laboured breath in and shook his head.
"No," he forced out a strained whisper, "no, it's nothing, I'll be fine- oh!" Kurt lifted him onto his feet.
"I'm taking you home."
"No, Kurt, honestly, I can barely feel anything-"
"That sounds like a concussion to me. Finn?"
Finn, somewhat dumbstruck, spun around to face Kurt. He blushed, knowing he could have prevented this.
"Yeah?"
Kurt took a deep breath. He wanted to say 'kick their asses', but he chose the high road.
"We're going home. I hope you can grow up in time to see us there."
Finn chewed his lip guiltily until a ball cracked him in the nose.
"Don't you think bed rest is a little much?"
"Nope. The floor in the gym is hard; you could have really hurt yourself."
"Kurt, I told you, I'm fine. I just got the wind knocked out of me."
Kurt placed the cup of tea on the bedside table and climbed up next to Blaine. He pulled him close and tucked his head under his chin. Of course he didn't have concussion. He'd only bumped his head, but that didn't stop Kurt from stroking his hair to see if he could feel a lump forming. He pressed a kiss to his temple and wrapped an arm around his waist, letting their hands tangle in front of them.
"I know. It just- I didn't like seeing you in pain. It freaked me out."
Blaine looked up at him and their eyes locked. They kissed, short and sweet, and Blaine rested his forehead on Kurt's cheek.
"Why?"
"I like your stomach. I get defensive over it."
"Uh-huh. And?"
"I know stupid stuff like that is going to happen. Hopefully dodge ball death matches won't be a frequent thing, but you're gonna trap your finger in doors and stand on plugs and run out of ice cream and there's just so much stuff I can't fix-"
"You can always go and get me more ice cream."
Kurt didn't smile.
"Someday it'll be something worse. Someday there could be a phone call telling us something awful has happened. Someday you could get really hurt. You could get sick. Ugh, this sounds so stupid out loud and it was actually almost cute in my head… I just love you and stuff, okay, and I'm mad that Santana hurt you and your hurt face is awful, the worst thing I've ever seen, and I never want to see it again but I know I'm going to have to because that's life, right-"
Blaine kissed him again.
"You think you can shut me up just like that?"
Blaine grinned.
"Yep."
"Hmmm. Well played. Am I crazy?"
"Pretty much. It's cute."
"You're cute."
"We're disgusting."
"I want to hit us."
"Hit yourself; I've been battered enough today."
"Fair enough. C'mere."
Kurt squeezed him and kissed his head again, bringing his knees up to curl up against Blaine, who nuzzled up to his chest, closing his eyes and melting into Kurt's arms.
"I like that you think about that. Not the scary phone calls, or the standing on the plugs, but… us. I'm worried that future me is so clumsy, but I'm glad he's got you. I guess that balances out my bad luck."
"If anything, it just makes it worse. The universe obviously wants to make you pay for having it so good."
"Then I guess you'd better go get me that ice cream."
Kurt pulled away, feigning disgust.
"What did your last slave die of?"
"Exhaustion. I can't go; I'm sick. Please?"
Kurt rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically.
"Fine. This won't maintain itself-"
He pulled Blaine's shirt up and blew a raspberry on his stomach. He kissed him again, lightly and playfully, before grabbing his keys and heading out for the biggest tub of Half Baked he could get his hands on.