A/N: And another one! Sorry for the lateness, I had to drive home tonight for spring break, and it's about 4 hours! As always, thank you all for your reviews/alert/favorites-you're awesome! :) You make my day.

So, without further ado, College!Klaine!

"I think that juries should be illegal," Blaine groaned as he dropped face-first onto his and Kurt's bed. "I'm going to fail."

"You're not going to fail," Kurt said. "And to think, people call me a drama queen."

"You don't know my pain. I practiced for four hours today! FOUR! I think I'm going to end the semester with carpal tunnel, or tendinitis, or something equally horrible," Blaine turned his head so that he could look at Kurt, who was lounging on the couch and reading the newest issue of Vogue. "You're supposed to feel bad for me."

"Well, maybe someone should have been practicing and preparing throughout the semester, instead of three days before juries," Kurt replied, flipping the page, not even looking at Blaine. "Don't give me that look, Blaine Anderson."

"You're not even looking at me!"

"Your eyes are all wide, your eyebrows are drawn together, and you're making the frowny face."

"Okay, you win this round," Blaine huffed, then rolled onto his back. "Seriously, this is ridiculous. My hands ache, my throat hurts, and I'm beginning to think hurling myself off the Brooklyn Bridge is a good idea…and this is before I type my paper on Benjamin Britten and 'The Importance of his Works to the Education of Young Musicians.'"

"And when is that due again?"

"Um, tomorrow?"

"Oh Blaine," Kurt sighed as he put his magazine down and crossed to the bed, sitting next to Blaine and combing his fingers through his curls, "what am I going to do with you?"

"Find a way for me to come down with a highly contagious disease that makes it impossible to leave the apartment, type, or play a musical instrument?"

"You are silly," Kurt laughed as he bent down to kiss forehead.

"It's great that you think I'm joking."

"Hey, it's not my fault that someone decided to double major in music performance and music education. And do both instrumental and choral certifications."

"We all can't be fashion design majors," Blaine groaned as Kurt took one of his hands and began to knead Blaine's palm with his thumbs. "How did you not go crazy doing your portfolio stuff last week? If you don't do it right, you don't graduate."

"Well, I started working on it last year," Kurt said, pressing harder into Blaine's palm, "because, unlike someone I know, I can plan ahead and manage my time well."

"Don't rub it in," Blaine said. "And can you just massage my hands all night? Otherwise I can think of something else you could be doing with your-"

"Finish that thought and I stop."

"I was just-"

"I'm not joking," Kurt threatened, dropping Blaine's hand and crawling up the bed, situating himself against the headboard and pulling out a magazine to read. "You just lost your hand massage privileges."

"Oh come on," Blaine whined, scrambling up the bed. He threw Kurt's magazine to the side and proceeded to cuddle up to him, resting his head on Kurt's chest. "I promise to model for your next project!"

"Hmm, I don't know," Kurt teased, "You might be a little too short."

"You're mean!"

"Am not," Kurt retorted. "And I guess I could maybe massage your hands…and let you nap. Only 30 minutes though! You have a paper to do."

"Sounds great," Blaine yawned, stretching to kiss Kurt's cheek before again slumping onto his chest. "by the way, a lullaby would be nice."

"Is that a suggestion?"

"I've had to listen to mostly atonal 20th century works today, I need something with a tonal center."

"Okay, okay," Kurt laughed, "Hmhm, candles out, looks like a solo tonight, hmmhmhmhm, okay, I may not remember all the lyrics. Blaine? Blainers?"

Blaine was out cold, lightly snoring. Kurt set the alarm on his phone and wrapped his arms around Blaine, pressing a kiss to the top of his head before relaxing into the pillows and allowing sleep to take him as well.