Kurt sighed. Literally everyone in his house was sick, and it was terrible. The kids had come down with it first, presumably bringing it home from school, and then Blaine had caught it a few days later. He always had had a weak immune system. Somehow, though, Kurt had managed to avoid it, and while he was thankful for that, it didn't mean he loved being the sole caretaker for four sick people. It was a lot of hard work. He was constantly running bowls of soup back and forth, bringing cups of water and medicine, taking temperatures, and opening new tissue boxes. He was tired, and this moment alone on the couch was the first time he'd not been running around all morning. In fact, the only time he really relaxed was when he went to bed, and even that was interrupted frequently by someone crying out for something or the fact that he rolled around a lot when he slept, and he'd fallen off the couch a few times. Normally, he would still sleep with Blaine, sickness be damned, but he'd moved Josh in there to consolidate the number of places he'd have to clean when everyone was finally well.

"Papa!" he heard Liza call weakly, and he sighed, rising again.

"What do you need, Liza?" he called back, not wanting to make multiple trips if he could help it.

"I'm thirsty and cold!" she complained.

"Do you want tea or water?" Kurt called back.

"Um, popsicle?"

"Tea or water?"

"Tea…"

"Jasper?" He really didn't want to make multiple trips for the same thing for different kids.

"Nooooo," his son called back.

"I'll be right in with your tea, Liza," he told his daughter. "And, I'm going to take your temperature. No fighting." Kurt heard an "Ugh!" from his daughter, but she didn't complain further. He hoped that would be most of her argument. He didn't know why she thought taking her temperature was so terrible, but she fought him every step of the way like she was a toddler instead of the five, almost six-year-old that she was.

When he stepped into Liza and Jasper's bedroom, he found his daughter lying on her side and shivering pathetically under several blanket layers. Her face was a bright red, and she looked absolutely miserable. This cold was kicking his family's butts. "My poor baby," he crooned, coming to sit on the edge of her bed. He set her tea down and tucked a bit of hair behind her ear. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm cold, Papa," she said. "An' my froat hurts."

"Your froat?" Kurt teased gently. "Oh no! Anything else?"

"My dose."

"Your nose?"

"Uh-huh."

"Is it runny or stuffy?" he asked. It had been runny recently. A stuffy nose would be a new development.

"Duffy."

"Poor baby," Kurt soothed again, rubbing gently at her back. "Let me take your temperature, and then you can drink your tea. It's not quite time for another dose of cold medicine."

"Kay…" she nodded weakly, rolling onto her back and opening her mouth expectantly.

Kurt slipped the thermometer in, rubbing a hand gently up and down where he thought his daughter's legs would be if he could see them until the timer beeped. When it went off, he took the thermometer, glancing at the display. "Over 100," he mumbled. "You'll be ready for medicine soon. Drink your tea, sweetie, and holler if you need me."

"Kay, Papa," she agreed.

Kurt helped Liza to sit up and passed her the mug of tea before getting up and going over to Jasper's bed. His youngest son was lying on his side, facing the wall, and his eyes were shut. Instead of talking to him, Kurt bent and kissed Jasper's temple. He didn't feel too warm; maybe he was getting better. That would be a relief.

Jasper was actually the easiest one of the four to care for when he was sick. He didn't whine or beg so much, preferring to do as much as he could by himself. He took medicine readily, listened to whatever Kurt told him to do, and was happy to do anything that would make him feel better. As he was in most of his life, Jasper was easy going, and Kurt couldn't appreciate that enough right now.

He was thankful that Jasper didn't stir from the kiss, and satisfied that he was doing okay, Kurt left the room, heading down the hallway to check on his eldest son and his husband. When he arrived, he found Josh asleep beside Blaine, his forehead sweaty and face red. His fever had apparently not broken, at least not yet. Blaine was awake and looking at his phone. His eyes were still droopy, and his cheeks were pink.

When he saw Kurt come in, Blaine tried to smile but started coughing instead, ending up sending spittle flying everywhere despite covering his mouth with his elbow.

Kurt grimaced, waiting to round the bed until Blaine's coughing fit was over. "How are you feeling?" he asked, noting that Blaine's water glass was empty. He perched on the edge of the bed, rubbing a gentle hand over Blaine's arm.

"D'okay," Blaine answered.

"Are you stuffy, too?" Kurt asked. "Liza's nose is stuffy today instead of runny."

"I dink so," Blaine answered. "I tan't talk vedy well."

"My poor, sweet husband," Kurt sympathized, giving him a little pout. "I'm so sorry."

"Dt's d'okay," Blaine said sadly, reaching for another tissue. He blew his nose loudly and was about to toss the tissue away when his cheeks suddenly blushed with embarrassment.

"What's wrong?" Kurt asked, furrowing his brow.

"I'm dot a vedy good aim today. Soddy," Blaine replied, pointing toward the trashcan. There was a massive pile of missed, soiled tissues all over the floor.

Kurt sighed. "That's disgusting." He turned to look back at Blaine, planning to reprimand him more. Instead, however, when he was faced with one of the saddest faces he'd ever seen Blaine make, he amended himself, saying, "You're lucky you're cute." He leaned in, pressing a kiss to Blaine's cheek. "I'll clean it up. Do you need anything? Tea? Water? More medicine? I think it's time for you to take some more if you want."

"Popsicle?" Blaine tried.

"Liza asked me for that, and I didn't give her one," Kurt said, rising and putting his hands on his hips.

"Tea then," Blaine answered. "Fanks for tading cade of us."

"Like I said… You're cute," Kurt replied, leaning in to give Blaine one more kiss on the cheek before leaving the room to make his tea, stopping to give Josh a quick kiss, too.

A week later, Kurt called weakly, "Blaine?"

"Coming, Kurt," Blaine replied. He got up from the couch where he'd been watching the twins do a building challenge with Legos while Josh timed them. He padded into the bedroom, smiling sadly at the miserable picture his husband made. "Whatcha need?" he asked, climbing onto the bed.

"I'm lonely," Kurt replied. "I wanna snuggle. I know I'm sick bu—" He was interrupted by a sneezing fit. By the time he was done, he had snot running out of his nose, and he hurried to wipe it away and blow his nose before Blaine could see. Unfortunately, he was too late. When he turned to look at his husband, he had an amused smile on his face.

"That was pretty," Blaine teased gently.

"I'm sorry…" Kurt moaned, his face getting impossibly redder. "Will you still snuggle with me, though? I miss you…"

"Well…" Blaine replied, climbing up further on the bed, leaning against the headboard and opening his arms for his husband to curl up into. "What was it that you said to me when I was sick? 'That's disgusting, but you're lucky you're cute'?"

"Something like that," Kurt admitted, leaning his head against Blaine's chest and sighing happily.

"Well, then you're lucky you're cute," Blaine replied, bending to kiss his husband on top of his head.

"Lucky me," Kurt mumbled, already on the verge of sleep. "Lucky, lucky me."