wasn't really planning on posting this, but my last hevans (kurt Hummel + sam EVANS) fic got such i good response (or good compared to most of my other fics, anyway), i figured "ah, what the heck", so i'm posting it anyway. this is a (very short) sick fic by the way. i think sick fics cute if they're written well, but i have no idea if this meets any of those cuteness standards. whatever. let me know if you like it or not.

hope you like it as much as you liked better!

reviews are always much appreciated!

happy reading! ^^

Just when all of the drama had finally died down- no more wild parties, no more Justin Beiber hair, no more kissing booths, or cheating, or drinking, or fighting– and things were really starting to look up again, Sam's immune system decided to slack off for a little while, which brings us to the state he's in currently.

To say that Sam's head hurt right now would be like saying that Rachel was sometimes a tad dramatic.

He'd felt a little off when he'd woken up this morning, but just brushed it off as being tired because he'd stayed up until 1 am reading.

He didn't share lunch with Kurt today ('Stupid scheduling issues!'), so it had been Finn who had found him half-way through the lunch period, sitting slumped on the grimy floor of the boys' bathroom. Lucky for him, Finn was strong, so it wasn't all that problematic that he was almost too dizzy to walk in a straight line, as his friend easily half-carried him to the nurse's office.

He feels a soft hand on his face, and a voice humming a soft melody nearby. Sam slowly opens his eyes and is greeted by the concerned face of Kurt Hummel. Sam smiles, happy to see his boyfriend by his side.

"Hey Sammy," Kurt says quietly.

"Hey," Sam whispers in reply.

"Finn said you were really sick; I was worried."

"Nah, I'm okay," Sam says. He tries to accompany his answer with movement, but the second he tries to sit up, he feels dizzy and lets his head fall back onto the balled-up sweatshirt that's acting as a pillow. "Ok, maybe not."

Kurt smiles slightly as Sam's attempt, and runs his fingers through the boy's hair.

"Kurt?" Sam whispers.

"Hmm?"

"I don't feel good."

"Aww, I know, baby. It's okay," Kurt replies gently, making little comforting shushing noises to calm the sick boy.

"Can you sit with me?" Sam asks in an almost childish tone.

"Of course," his boyfriend replies sweetly. Kurt stands up from the chair he's sitting on next to the little cot, and Sam raises his head high enough for the sweatshirt pillow to be removed and replaced by Kurt.

Sam sighs happily as the Kurt pets his hair comfortingly. Kurt smiles down at the sick boy whose head is now on his lap.

"That feels nice. I always feel nice when you're around, obviously, but that thing you're doing now feels real nice too," Sam mumbles.

Kurt laughs quietly at Sam's statement. "That's good. Carole did this for me when I was sick once. It does feel nice."

"I always feel nice when I'm with you," Sam repeats. "I feel all comfortable and safe, like nothing can get me- except evil stomach flu germs, I guess."

Kurt smiles at the adorableness of his boyfriend's explanation. "Good. I feel the same with you; like, if I'm sad, you make me feel better just by being there. Is that too sappy to say?" Kurt replies, then laughs as he second-guesses his last confession.

"'Not too sappy at all. That's what you're supposed to feel when you love someone," Sam answers tiredly.

The two sit – well, lay, in Sam's case – in comfortable silence until Sam's mother arrives ten minutes later. Sam's steady breathing tells Kurt that he must've fallen asleep at some point, so Kurt tries to gently remove himself from under the other boy's head without startling him awake. Sam makes a small whining noise as Kurt stands and slowly rests his head back on the cot.

Smiling at his sick and sleeping boyfriend, Kurt shakes his shoulder slightly to wake him up. "Sammy, baby, wake up. Your mom's here to take you home. Then you can go to sleep in your nice bed, and get all tucked in with your pretty Star Wars sheets."

Sam rubs his face and slowly sits up, smiling slightly at Kurt's comment about his dorky bedding. Upon standing – slowly, as to avoid any sudden dizzy spells – Sam leans into Kurt's offered hug, wrapping his arms around the other boy in return.

Several hours later, Sam is sitting on his bed with his phone to his ear, on the tail end of a phone conversation with Kurt.

"Well, I hope you feel better soon, Sammy," Kurt coos through the phone.

"Thanks. Me too," Sam replies, laughing once.

"Call me tomorrow if you need any company, ok?"

"Sure thing," he says, laughing at how motherly his boyfriend is behaving. He takes a breath, pausing for a moment. "Remember what I said earlier? About how it's not sappy to feel safe and stuff when you're with someone you love?"

"Mhmm."

"I meant it."

Kurt knows there are probably so many other ways Sam wishes he could express this message- through cliché love songs, and dorky sci-fi movie references, and lots of words to try to explain how very much Kurt really means to him, but the shy smile in his voice when he says that 'he meant it' expresses his feelings so much better. And the simplicity of it all makes Kurt blush slightly.

"Good. Because I love you too," he replies, smiling brightly.

Sam releases a breath he didn't know he'd been holding, and smiles. "G'night, Kurt."

"'Night, Sam. Feel better."

Kurt, who is sitting cross-legged on his own bed at home, smiles brightly to himself as he hangs up the phone. After returning his cell phone to its place on his bedside table, he lazily falls back onto his large mass of pillows, joyfully teary-eyed and content.

i hope you liked this. if not, then, oh well, i tried.

reviews make me happy. *hint hint* ;)