"Blaine! No. No. I told you not to come."

Kurt groaned as he slid further into his bed, pulling the covers over his head. He had specifically told -no, he had forbidden Blaine from coming over. Kurt was sick; puffy red eyes, pink runny nose, dark bags under his eyes, yellowish twinge to his pale flawless skin, flat matted hair, thick nasally voice. The works. And he had repeatedly assured Blaine that he would be fine, it was just the flu, nothing to worry about because there was no way his boyfriend was going to see him looking like that.

And yet, said boyfriend was currently standing in Kurt's room, leaning against the door frame looking as dashingly handsome as ever, his face thoroughly amused at Kurt's childish antics. Kurt had to resist throwing his tissue box at him mostly because he needed that thing.

"Kurt, sometime's I wonder if you know me at all."

"Sometimes, I wonder what it's like to have a boyfriend who listens to me," Kurt shot back from under the covers. Blaine sighed, furrowing his brow in frustration, glad that Kurt couldn't see him because "wrinkles, Blaine!" but still confused because he was just trying to be a good boyfriend! And yeah, okay, maybe it was better not to piss Kurt off when he was sick but Blaine had been genuinely worried. He wasn't about to leave Kurt to suffer and besides, it wasn't like Blaine cared what Kurt looked like, he just wanted to take care of him.

"I brought you soup."

Silence. Kurt wasn't yelling; Blaine took it as a good sign and pushed off the doorway to make his way over to the bed. He sat down gently and laid the plastic Breatstix take out bag on the floor, reaching up to place a hand on the lump that was Kurt. "It's your favorite, from Breadstix. It's going to get cold, Kurt."

Silence.

But then, Kurt spoke softly. "With grated parmesan?"

"Yup."

Silence.

"Did you get breadsticks?"

"But of course."

Silence.

"And I suppose there's no way I could convince you to leave the soup and come back when I don't look like an elephant spit me up?"

"Nope."

Silence. And then a sigh. Kurt shifted, pulling the covers ever so slightly down so that only his eyes were visible, wide and blue and puffy, peering up at Blaine from beneath the most adorable eye lashes ever, vulnerable and weak and yet so freaking endearing. Blaine gazed sweetly down at his boyfriend, reaching over to smooth back the soft hair off of Kurt's forehead. "Come on, sit up and I'll feed you."

"My hands are working fine, you know. You don't have to."

It was barely snappy, leaning more towards resigned and Blaine shook his head. "I want to do this. Let me do this Kurt, please?"

Kurt sighed again pushed the covers off of him and shuffled up till he was sitting up right, his back against his pillows, blankets bunched up at his waist. Blaine grinned triumphantly before kicking of his shoes and settling down cross-legged next to Kurt. He reached over to pull the plastic bag onto his lap and fumbled around to get the container out along with a spoon. Kurt's eyes narrowed and they remained transfixed on Blaine's moving hands, daring him to spill even a drop; Blaine didn't. He popped the lid off the soup and dipped the spoon in before holding it out to Kurt. But Kurt didn't open his mouth.

"Breadsticks." He whined out around closely pressed lips.

"Kurt, you need to soften up your throat first. Just- please?"

Kurt sighed yet again but opened his mouth anyway, accepting the soup and moaning ever so lightly as the warm liquid made it's way down his throat, spreading warmth through him and tingling his toes. Blaine grinned, the tips of his ears reddened.

"You're enjoying this far too much, Blaine." Kurt said, snapping out of his revery.

"I'm not even sorry." Blaine said, smiling widely at his boyfriend as he held out another spoonful of soup. Kurt rolled his eyes but accepted it anyway. Ten minutes later and Kurt had swallowed more than half of the container, polished off all the breadsticks and was now refusing to eat anymore -even after Blaine made airplane noises. Admitting defeat, Blaine went downstairs to put away the soup so Kurt could finish it later and when he came back, Kurt had gone back to slumping into the pillows looking warmer and marginally better.

"Stay with me?" Kurt asked, patting the bed next to him. As if Blaine needed telling twice.

"Of course." He replied softly, bounding over to his boyfriend and clambering in bed with him. He pulled at Kurt till the taller boy curled onto Blaine's chest, his arm draped loosely over Blaine's waist, socked feet pressing against Blaine's bare ones. "When's your dad coming back?"

"Not till later." Kurt managed to sigh out- Blaine was being incredibly distracting, trailing his fingers everywhere, over Kurt's back, his neck, the shell of his ear, through his hair. "Thank you." He said, squeezing Blaine's waist.

"Hey." Blaine murmured, reached down to place his fingers under Kurt's chin and nudging it upwards till Kurt looked at him. "It was my pleasure, I promise." And then Kurt beamed at him, the sort of smile that Blaine was almost sure no one else could coax out of him, heart stopping, dazzling, teeth, dimples and all. Blaine couldn't resist craning his neck downwards to kiss his boyfriend softly.

Kurt had barely started kissing back when he seemed to remember that he was sick. "Ugh, Blaine, don't. You'll get sick," he muttered, pushing at Blaine's chest.

"I don't care." Blaine argued, leaning back down and kissing Kurt.

"Blaine, I'm all gross."

"I. Don't. Care." Blaine insisted, pressing his lips once again to Kurt's. Kurt relented, allowing Blaine to kiss him but keeping his lips firmly closed. Blaine seemed content though and only pulled back after several moments. "Mmm. I love you."

"I love you too. But I'm not taking care of you when you get sick, you're ridiculously stubborn. Now keep doing that thing you were doing with your fingers, I want to take a nap."

Below him, Blaine shook slightly as he chuckled but Kurt didn't have enough energy to do anything about it because his eyes were sliding shut and he was drifting off, warm and completely relaxed, his blocked, snuffling nose barely bothering him anymore.

Four days later, Kurt was feeling back to his normal self, planted on the couch between his father and Finn as they watched some football game, one that he was almost sure they had watched before, but what did he know.

His phone buzzed on the coffee table and he scrambled to get to it -anything to save him from the sheer torture of sitting through another minute of football.

"Hey you." He murmured into it as he hastened to put distance between him and his father in order to talk to his boyfriend properly.

Silence. A soft snuffling and then, "Kuuuuuurt."

Kurt sighed and ran a hand over his face exasperatedly. "You caught my flu, didn't you."

More snuffling. "Maybe."

"Blaine."

"You have very kissable lips, Kurt."

"Jeez, have you been prescribing medication to yourself?"

Blaine ignored him and instead asked, "Will you come over?"

And despite Kurt's previous insistence that he wouldn't take care of Blaine, it didn't once occur to him to say no. "Of course."

"And Kurt?"

"Yes Blaine. I'll get soup."

"And breadsticks."

"And breadsticks." Kurt repeated, already pulling a jacket on and shoving his keys into his pocket. "I'll be there soon. Love you."

"Okay. I love you more."

And Blaine sounded so ridiculously miserable that Kurt vowed to only say 'I told you so' three times the entire time he would be there.

A/N: So let me know what you guys think! 3