A/N: Hope you guys enjoy this chapter as we get closer and closer to the climax. Thanks, as always, for your support!

Chapter 16

A Simple Remedy

Saturday, 18 January 2025

7:15 am

Kurt rolled over in bed, groaning as his alarm went off. He woke up in the middle of the night, his head pounding, unable to breathe from his nose. This throat felt like he had swallowed sandpaper. Why he thought playing in the snow in 30-degree weather was beyond him.

Grabbing his phone from the bedside table, he silenced the alarm that was blaring at him. He somehow forgot to turn it off despite it being the weekend. He felt too miserable to go back to sleep now.

He coughed, setting his phone down on the end table once more, and felt for the tissue box next to him. The floor was already littered with white clumps of used tissue, and the box, he came to realize upon feeling its weight, was empty.

Kurt groaned again, tossing his head back on his pillow, as he tossed the tissue box to the ground. Why did he have to be sick?

Kurt, begrudgingly, pulled the comforter off of himself and padded to the bathroom. He toed around the used tissues and he regretted not putting pajamas on before he went to bed. He wrapped his arms around his bare torso as he felt a chill. Flipping on the lights, he took in his ghastly appearance in the mirror. His eyes were bloodshot from sneezing and coughing, and there were dark circles that rimmed the bottom of his eyes. His nose was pink and sore from the number of times he blew his nose, despite the tissues containing lotion. Kurt shook his head, reminding himself to curse at Dave later, considering he threw the first snowball.

Dave… Kurt thought feeling a little flutter in his chest that had nothing to do with the phlegm in his lungs. He couldn't stop himself from thinking about the day before. Dave's apology, their silly little snowball fight, how Dave pulled him into the snow, and…

Kurt shook his head, pulling himself for the memory as he grabbed a wad of tissue from the roll of toilet paper. That would have to do for now.

Kurt made his way back to his bed, shivering, and pulled the blankets around himself. There were some times when he realized living by himself sucked. And this was one of them. He knew that he would have to pull himself out of bed and drag himself to the store to get cold and flu medicine, a box of tissues, and maybe some canned soup if he felt able enough to walk to the other side of the store.

Some days he just wished that he had someone who made him feel safe. Someone who could wrap their strong arms around him instead of the comforter. Maybe… Run their fingers through his hair.

Kurt shuddered pleasantly at the memory of Dave's warmth on top of him; encasing him. He bit his lip and pulled out his phone, pulling his photo album out of curiosity after the thought of Dave jogged his memory. He clicked on the first picture, his lips widening in a smile, discovering the photograph he had accidentally captured the day before.

In the photo was a beautiful sunset above the Hudson River, and Dave, clad in his bright purple NYU sweater. The sun created a halo of light around him. The sweater worked well with the bright orange, pinks, and blues of the sky. And Kurt couldn't help but chuckle.

Maybe purple was his color...

Kurt could feel his cheeks heating up, but he passed it off as a fever beginning to take hold. He had completely forgotten how he took the picture of the sunset before noticing Dave standing down the sidewalk from him. He panicked at the time, assuming Dave wanted nothing to do with him, so he all but took off down the block towards the crosswalk to their apartment. Why would he want to speak to him anyway? He had cursed Dave out and was likely the reason he and Travis's relationship ended. No… Kurt thought… Travis dug his own grave, and he meant what he said to Dave. He deserved so much better than someone like him.

Kurt zoomed in on the photo of Dave. He almost looked… Mesmerized. His face was calm and relaxed, and he wondered what could have been on his mind.

Kurt clicked on the three little dots on the upper corner of his screen as he decided that Dave needed a contact picture in his phone. He cropped the photo, so it was just Dave's profile and a hint of the sunset in the background, and then he pressed save.

Kurt stared at the photo above Dave's name, feeling satisfied with his work and then, feeling a tickle in his nose… He sneezed.

Hard.

The phone flew out of his hand, but luckily only to the end of the bed rather than the floor. He sighed, sniffling, eyes teary. But then something strange happened.

He heard a voice. A distant, tinny voice.

"Hello? Kurt? Is everything okay?"

Kurt panicked as he realized it was coming from his phone.

Kurt looked down to see that he must have hit Dave's phone number as he sneezed, as the screen read "David" and "calling".

"Shit," Kurt whispered as he fell forward onto his stomach as he scrabbled for the phone and fumbled it to his ear.

"Dabe?" Kurt said, scrunching his eyes closed in embarrassment at how stuffy he sounded.

"Hey, is everything alright?" The gruff, but soft, caring voice responded. Dave must have just woken up as well. Or maybe he had woken up Dave.

"Yes," Kurt sniffed, holding the used toilet paper to his nose. "I'b fined."

"You… You're what?" Dave chuckled on the other end. Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Sorry, I must've called you by accident." He coughed and he could hear just how congested he sounded.

"You uh, you don't sound so great."

"I think I hab the flu. Everything hurts."

"Oh shit, Kurt. I'm sorry."

"It's fined," Kurt said, trying his best to enunciate despite his inability to breathe out of his nose.

"Is there anything I can do? Do you need anything?"

"No, I'b…" Kurt paused. "You don't habben to hab any tissues?"

"Yeah, I should have an extra box in the bathroom. I can bring it up to you."

"Dank you," Kurt said, appreciatively. Dave laughed. Kurt could almost imagine him with his eyes crinkling at the corners as they did when he was amused.

"You're welcome. I'll be there in five. Just gotta throw some clothes on," Dave said, "see you in a bit."

Kurt set the phone down once he heard Dave hang up and he pulled himself out of bed yet again, his body aching all over as he stumbled to his dresser. He stripped off his briefs, tossing them into the hamper, and pulled a new pair on, followed by a pair of silk pajama pants and a loose-fitting, off-the-shoulder sweater. The warm, clean clothes helped a little bit. Returning to the bathroom, he threw some cool water into his burning face and wiped it with a fluffy towel. He brushed his damp hair out of his eyes into a somewhat decent style and then he heard the knock on his door.

Padding out to the living room, Kurt unlocked the door and pulled it open.

Dave stood at the threshold of the door with a box of tissues in hand. It appeared that he had indeed rushed over because he wore his glasses, not having enough time to put his contacts in. He wore a simple and slightly wrinkled black t-shirt under a black, unzipped hoodie.

"Hi," Kurt said miserably, leaning against the edge of the door.

"Hey," Dave said sympathetically. "You doing okay?"

Kurt sighed, "I'b been better. I appreciate you bringing these ober," Kurt said as Dave handed him the box.

"It's no problem. Do you... Want me to come in?" Dave asked politely.

Kurt grimaced. "I don't wanna get you sick," he held the door open, "but I wouldn't mind the company if you're offering."

"Well, I feel like it's my fault," Dave said, entering the apartment. "You probably became immunocompromised from being in the cold yesterday. Have you had your flu shot this year?"

Kurt shook his head sullenly, shutting the door once Dave was inside. Dave gave him a scolding look.

"I forgot!" Kurt said defensively. "I'b just been so busy at work!"

"Well, I got mine a couple of weeks ago so I should be fine." Dave stood awkwardly in his living room with his hands in his pockets, watching Kurt as he sat on the couch.

"Unless it's not the flu," Kurt pointed out as he pulled his legs up to sit cross-legged. He wrapped his arms around himself as he felt a shiver run through him and he shuddered.

"I'll risk it." Kurt looked curiously up at Dave, who came to stand in front of him, practically towering over him.

"Jesus, Kurt," Dave said, noticing his tremors. Without any warning, Kurt felt his cool hand cover his forehead, brushing his hair out of the way.

"You're burning up," Dave said in concern, and Kurt resisted the urge to lean into his hand like some sort of touch starved stray cat as Dave withdrew it. "Do you have any medicine? Or a thermometer?"

"I'b sure it's just the flu, Dabe. It will go away in a couple of days," Kurt said, resting his head on his knees that he brought to his chin.

Dave scoffed, "Okay, so I should just let you suffer then? No, Kurt. I am going to the store and I am picking up some medicine." Kurt heard him shuffle away and stopped him.

"Dabid…" he called looking up at Dave who was already at the door. Dave paused turning around with his hand on the doorknob.

"No, no buts… I'll be right back," Dave said sternly.

"No, I just…" Kurt sighed, blushing, not used to being doted on like Dave was doing.

"What's wrong?"

"Would you mind grabbing the comforter off my bed? Please?" Kurt added shyly and Dave's stern look softened.

"Yeah. Of course," he said kindly and he went into the other room and when he appeared he had a comforter in hand.

"Sorry 'bout all the tissues." Kurt coughed into the crook of his elbow and Dave made no inclination to move away.

"Don't apologize," Dave said kindly as Kurt made to take the comforter from him, but Dave already knelt, wrapping it around Kurt securely.

The sunrise illuminated the apartment and Kurt could see for the first time that Dave's green eyes had dark flecks of brown in them, as well as a ring of orange at the center, much like a sunrise themselves. Kurt held his breath, finally tearing his own eyes away.

Kurt looked down, feeling a tugging sensation, and saw Dave's hands adjusting the fabric so that the ends met at his chest. Kurt made to clutch the ends of it and he felt a jolt of actual static as their hands bumped clumsily against each other. He jumped and Dave laughed in amusement.

"Sorry," Dave apologized this time as he smoothed the fabric around his shoulders, making Kurt want to shiver and not from his fever. Kurt swallowed thickly, his raw throat screaming at the effort as Dave stood up.

"S'fine," Kurt said hoarsely, looking at where Dave had been, already feeling a sense of loss, as he made his way to the door.

"I'll be back. Text me if you think of anything else you need, alright?"

Kurt could only nod, feeling emotional at being under Dave's care.

Dave gave him an empathetic smile as he disappeared through the door. He let out the breath he didn't know he was holding as he sank into the cushions of the couch, trying to make sense of the sudden rush of emotions flooding inside him.

'You're just not used to other people taking care of you.' Kurt rationalized. 'You took care of your dad half your life, you did everything for Blaine… He's just being a good friend. Probably to make up for New Year's. It doesn't mean anything.'

Kurt stood up abruptly and made his way to the kitchen, the ends of the comforter dragging behind him.

Tea… He needed some tea. It always helped soothe him… Collect his thoughts.

Kurt moved slowly, his body aching from the effort of such a simple task. He collected the box of chamomile from the cabinet and he filled his new kettle, a Christmas gift from Carole. He turned on the burner to the stove and set the kettle upon it to bring to a boil. He went to the fridge, remembering the leftover ginger root he had from the sesame noodles he made a few days ago, and pulled that out as well, along with his cutting board sitting in the dish drying rack next to the sink.

Kurt carefully peeled the ginger, the comforter draped over his shoulders and chopped it into small chunks that he added to the kettle. Knowing it would be a while before the water boiled, he went back to the living room and turned the television on, switching it over to Netflix and clicking on The Great British Baking Show tile. He did his best to keep his eyes open but failed almost immediately succumbing to his sickness and exhaustion.

oOo

Kurt opened his eyes abruptly to the sound of a door slamming shut, a rustling of plastic bags, and a whistling sound. His kettle.

"Jesus, Kurt, you fell asleep with the stove on?" Dave asked urgently as he entered the apartment like a tornado, rounding the corner of the kitchen to set the bags down on the counter.

"The whistling would hab woken me up ebentually," Kurt said rubbing his eyes, his nose more stuffed than ever after waking from his accidental nap. He looked at his phone, which he had set on the coffee table. Dave had been gone for about 30 minutes. He got up and followed Dave to the kitchen.

"Hey," Dave gave Kurt a double-take when he saw him on his feet. Dave took the kettle off the stove and turned the burner off before he could get to it. "You should rest."

"I wanted tea," Kurt said simply, shrugging a shoulder as he pulled his rainbow "Woke Up Gay Again" mug out of the cupboard. He filled it with the water that didn't completely evaporate so it could cool. A few chunks of the ginger root drifted to the bottom of his mug.

"What all did you get?" he asked, ignoring Dave's commands. After he dunked the tea bag into the water, he moved to stand next to Dave.

"Just stuff," Dave said offhandedly as he pulled various produce items from a bag: Zucchini, carrots, canned tomatoes, kale, parsley, onion, and garlic...

"What's with all these begetables?" Kurt asked in confusion, wondering if Dave picked up some of his own groceries while he was there.

"Oh yeah… um…" Dave cleared his throat, sounding embarrassed. "Thought I'd make you some Italian chicken noodle soup."

Kurt stared.

"You didn't hab to go through all this trouble, Dabe."

"Kurt, you can't even say your 'v's," he pointed out with an amused chuckle, "I thought this would make you feel a little better, at least. And I'm a pretty decent cook, y'know."

"You don't say," Kurt said, reaching across Dave to grab the bottle of garish green cold and flu medicine as Dave struggled to open the thermometer from its plastic packaging. "I'll be the judge of that."

"Mmm," Dave intoned and pressed the button on the thermometer. "That's if you can even taste anything. Open."

Dave held out the device and Kurt huffed, still holding onto the comforter with one hand, the medicine in the other. Rather than free any of his hands to take it from him, he opened his mouth, and leaned forward, trying not to blush in embarrassment as Dave placed the device under his tongue and held it there. Kurt watched the number rise on the little screen so he didn't have to look at Dave, who was scrutinizing him enough that he could almost feel it.

Finally, the thermometer beeped and Dave looked at it. Kurt took a step back and made to open the medicine bottle to distract himself.

"101.1." Dave moved to the sink to wash the end of the device with hot, soapy water. "And it's going to get worse if you don't rest," he added in a reprimanding manner. Kurt pouted as he downed a swig of the green syrup straight from the bottle and grimaced.

"I was making my tea," Kurt repeated as he got his bottle of honey from the cabinet, brushing past Dave in the small, confined space.

"I can do that too," Dave offered.

"It's fine," Kurt said a little too sharply, immediately regretting it when he saw the look Dave gave him out of the corner of his eye. He noticed that Dave found where Kurt kept his cutting boards and he stood frozen with a vegetable peeler in his hand. He never saw Dave Karofsky look so domestic. But he also looked hurt.

"I'm sorry," Kurt apologized sincerely, his eyes peering into Dave's. The other man nodded, turning away from Kurt as he began to peel some carrots. Kurt felt like complete and utter shit and it had nothing to do with his illness.

Kurt went to stand next to the man, and he swallowed thickly.

"Dabid… I'm not used to this. I'm sorry." Kurt looked down at Dave's hands still preoccupied with peeling the vegetable. He reached through the fold of his comforter and laid his hand on top of Dave's, stilling him. "I appreciate you going through all this trouble."

Dave was busy staring at Kurt's hand and then looked up. Realizing Kurt was being genuine, he smiled at him.

"Maybe you should let someone return the favor and help you once in a while." Dave gave him a knowing look. Kurt gaped slightly in confusion as he let the words sink in. Dave was returning… A favor? For what specifically he wasn't exactly sure. Helping him accept himself? Not outing him at school? Helping him come back to McKinley? Just being his friend? Forgiving him? It could have been a myriad of things, but he was too afraid to pry. Dave had moved to wash the veggies under the stream of water from the faucet. He turned to Kurt, and he realized he was staring unblinkingly at Dave.

"Now go sit down, before I start chopping these vegetables," Dave said, pulling Kurt out of his reverie. "I don't want you judging my knife skills."

Kurt shook his head with an amused smile as he took his mug of tea by the handle and he turned back to the living room. He set his tea on the table to cool and he laid down once more, wrapped in his blanket like a cocoon. He closed his eyes, with the sound of Prue Leith's calming voice and the sound of Dave's chopping coming from the kitchen soothe him as he drifted back to sleep.

oOo

Dave sat at the end of the couch listening to Kurt's soft snores in the background of the cooking competition Kurt left on. He didn't know why he was feeling this way. He tried to play off the feeling, doing his best to care for Kurt as a friend should, but he couldn't help but shake the unease that he felt.

Kurt stretched out, his feet bumping into Dave's thighs as he rolled over on the couch, still asleep. Dave's breath caught in his chest as the blanket pulled away from Kurt's shoulder, revealing just a hint of bare skin at the curve of his neck and shoulder. Dave looked away quickly as if witnessing something far more indecent and he stood up. He returned to the kitchen, realizing that the soup should be cool enough to serve. He had prepared all the vegetables and the chicken and noodles just as his aunt taught him years ago. Before he moved to New York, he had been a lousy cook. His only culinary expertise included being able to heat up various foods in the toaster oven. He could cook eggs or grilled cheese on the stove if he was feeling adventurous. But now, he could cook almost anything that wasn't too fancy. His aunt made sure that he could survive on his own after he finished high school. And he was grateful he didn't have to live off of toast and Hot Pockets into adulthood.

Dave searched the cabinets until he found the one that contained ceramic bowls. He pulled out two, figuring he didn't have any breakfast that day and he made Kurt enough soup to last him a couple of days. He might as well enjoy a bowl of his own creation. He grabbed two spoons and a ladle that he found earlier while looking for the chopping knives. He ladled the still steaming soup into both of the bowls. Once they were nearly full, he inserted the spoons and carried them to the living room.

Kurt was still fast asleep so he set the bowls on the coffee table, being careful not to spill them. Leaning over Kurt, he gently rubbed his shoulder, coaxing him awake.

"Hey, Kurt."

"Hmm?" Kurt turned over, squinting blearily at Dave.

"Soup's ready. You should eat." Dave sat down on the opposite end of the couch once more as Kurt sat up, stretching his arms over his head, yawning. Dave picked up the bowl of soup to hand to Kurt once he got settled, and turned to him. He couldn't help but smile. Kurt's hair was sticking up in every direction from his restless nap, one of his cheeks redder than the other from where it was pushed against the arm of the couch.

"It looks amazing, Dabid," Kurt said, his voice thick with sleep, as he reached for the bowl. "I'd say it smells good too but… I can't smell."

Dave chuckled as he handed him the bowl, "Careful, it's still pretty hot."

Kurt ignored him as he took the bowl, his hands half cupping Dave's momentarily. Kurt took the spoon immediately and lifted it to his mouth, blew on it, and took a giant, steaming bite.

"Oh my god," Kurt said, his mouth full. He practically groaned, his head rolling back. Dave couldn't help but feel a swell of pride as he watched Kurt's euphoric reaction. Dave picked up his bowl, feeling satisfied that it met all of Kurt's expectations. "I can't belieb you cooked this. It's amazing. I mean…" Kurt took another bite, "I know half of my taste is gone, but still. I'm going to make you cook this for me once I feel better."

Dave laughed, feeling ridiculously pleased for merely cooking for Kurt-receiving his praise.

"Sure," Dave agreed, "No problem." Dave took a bite himself. The chicken was moist, the noodles were perfectly al dente, and the vegetables were soft and practically melted in his mouth. And it had just the perfect amount of saltiness that could soothe Kurt's throat. Kurt wasn't joking. His aunt taught him well.

The two of them sat unspeaking until their bowls were empty, watching Kurt's British cooking show that gave Dave too many ideas on things to bake, not that he had as much experience with baking except for tiramisu and cannolis. Dave was leaning back into the couch cushions feeling comfortably full. Dave realized, however, that Kurt was shivering once more now that he finished his hot soup and that the comforter slipped off his shoulders.

"You should kick on the heater," he pointed out as Kurt wrapped his arms around himself once more. Kurt shook his head.

"But then.. You'll get too hot... And I don't want you... to leabe," Kurt frowned as he looked up at Dave, his teeth chattering. Dave felt an enormous sense of sympathy and affection towards Kurt. The fact that he actually wanted his company meant more to him than… Well… Pretty much anything. He grimaced, however, hating that Kurt would put his comfort over his own.

Dave stood up and walked over to the front door.

"Wait, I said I didn't want you to leabe," Kurt practically whined. Dave turned around to find Kurt half vacated the couch and looked like Dave may have well have kicked him. Instead of opening the door and leaving, as Kurt anticipated, he went to the thermostat that was attached to the wall in the foyer. He moved the switch over to heat and clicked it up a couple of degrees. Kurt collapsed into the couch once more, as though his body could barely support itself.

"You don't have to do that," Kurt pouted, looking at him through his eyelashes guiltily.

"That shirt's too thin," Dave said, ignoring Kurt as he shrugged off his jacket. He walked over to the couch and held the article of clothing up for him.

"Here, I warmed it up for you," he said, referring to the jacket rather than the apartment itself.

Kurt stared at him with surprise.

"Thank you," Kurt said quietly and stretched an arm out tentatively, allowing Dave to slip the jacket on one arm and then the other. He saw that Kurt's slouchy shirt had slipped further down his shoulder and Dave swallowed. Kurt wrapped the oversized jacket around his torso as Dave replaced the comforter over him as well before he could stare too long at Kurt wearing his jacket. Once Kurt seemed comfortable, Dave returned to his seat, feeling naked in his plain t-shirt he threw on as soon as he woke up to rush to Kurt's sickbed. He became distracted, however, by a warmth radiating up his side that had nothing to do with the heater he had kicked on. Kurt moved closer to him and was still shivering despite the layers of clothing and blankets. He leaned against Dave as if trying to soak up any heat emanating from his body. Dave felt like his heart could break.

"Come here," Dave offered consolingly as he moved to curl his leg on the couch cushions as he placed his hand on Kurt's shoulder.

He didn't need to say anything else to Kurt. The man melted like chocolate in the sun against his chest. Dave's breath hitched, not expecting the hair on Kurt's head to tickle his nose the way it did. He tilted his head up just as he caught wind of the fruity, floral smell of Kurt's shampoo. Kurt took the opportunity to rest his head just above where his heart was thundering loudly.

As Dave tentatively wrapped his arms around Kurt's shoulders, he could feel him shaking like a leaf. He rubbed his hands up and down his back unconsciously, hoping the friction would warm his friend up.

How did this happen, he couldn't help but wonder, as he looked down at Kurt who snuggled deeper into him. Just half a month ago, he was certain Kurt would never speak to him and now the man was practically in his lap. He let himself be completely and utterly vulnerable around him and Dave felt he could do the same. No matter how many times he managed to fuck up, Kurt was always there to forgive him. He would tell himself time and time again, no matter how many times Kurt denied it, he didn't deserve him. But he made a vow to himself that he would never do anything to hurt Kurt ever again.

Not caring or knowing if Kurt was still awake, he raised his hand tentatively and raked his fingers over the top of his head, smoothing down the messy strands of hair, putting it back to something akin to how Kurt would wear it normally. He looked down once he heard the snores resume from the man he held in his arms and he felt his heart slow down to a more relaxed thrum. Feeling his own sense of peace he allowed himself to follow his friend into blissful sleep.