A/N: Written for starkurt/Maddie on tumblr. The original version of this that I posted on tumblr contains pictures of text messages. Since does not support pictures I had to replace the pictures with text.

Better

by ktfranceebee

A small ping of a cell phone echoed in the grating silence of the apartment, muffled slightly from where it was hidden beneath a pillow and three layers of sheets and comforters. Dave Karofsky let out an agonized groan, also muffled from his face being squashed into the same pillow. He sat up, every ounce of his body screaming with regret and silent protest. With every movement his muscles ached and his head pounded as if he got a head rush from standing up too fast, when, in actuality, his body felt like lead as he moved at a snail's pace.

Once he was sitting upright in bed, shivering as the comforters slipped off his bare shoulders, he reached simultaneously for the box of tissues on his night stand with one hand while he felt for the device buried beneath the copious amount of pillows with the other. He sniffled, covering his runny and undoubtedly reddened nose with the irritatingly rough material when his fingers blindly found the smooth, rectangular device. Just before clicking on the screen from where he sat up in bed, he pulled one of the layers of fabric over his shoulders and turned on the screen to see just who was responsible for the sending him what had to be the fifth text message he heard, and ignored, in the past 4 hours.

-I didn't see you in the staff room today, or at all for that matter.-

-Dave, is everything okay?-

-I tried to ask Figgins but he kept going on about teacher-principal confidentiality agreement. Is that even a thing?-

-David, please... Just talk to me.-

Okay, so it was only four messages.

Dave tried to sigh, only the sound escalated into a hacking cough. For two days he had felt like this. He was coughing so much his ribs ached, so he resorted to just trying to sleep off whatever sickness this was rather than face it. But that meant having to calling in sick to work, which obviously meant doom for him in the form of his friend slash co-worker's wrath.

Dave stared at the time on the phone. It was already 3:47 which meant that Kurt was still in Glee Club. He scrolled through the messages, realizing that the first one he received was around noon, which was when Kurt had to have noticed his absence at lunch. He imagined Kurt sitting at one of the round tables in the staff room and wondered if he joined one of the other teachers for lunch that day, Sue maybe, or just ate his usual neatly packed lunch in solitude that day.

Wrapping his blanket more securely around his shoulders as he tossed the tissue into the overflowing wastebasket next to his bed, he began to type out a begrudging reply, wondering what their students would think if they knew their teachers were texting each other when Kurt should be helping them perfect their songs for their upcoming performance.

-I'm fine, Kurt. I must have just caught something from the students. I'll be back to work in a few days.-

Once he had sent the text message, Dave slid back into the comfort of his bed, trying to ignore the smallest hint of warmth that he felt beneath his shivering muscles. It was hard not to feel a little bit comforted in the fact that Kurt was worried about him. After all, it was difficult to keep the feelings he once had for Kurt at bay especially when he saw the man at least five times a week at work. It was strange how they could both graduate from different high schools and colleges and wind up back where it all started: McKinley High School. They were both hired during the same year, Kurt as the new choir teacher and Glee Club coach and him as the new calculus teacher and football coach. As shocked as they both had been seeing each other in the halls on the first day of class, the last six months felt like a second chance, especially when Kurt had broken out into a huge grin and gave him a timid wave through the throes of students bustling about, trying to figure out where their first classes were.

The memory made Dave's face burn despite his already 102 degree temperature. They had become close friends in the past couple of months—well, closer than they were in high school. He admired Kurt, not only for the person he was, but for the kind of person that he inspired him to be. He didn't count on anything beyond friendship, but it was hard not to be captivated by his spirit, and passion, and beauty. On some days he found himself walking a little more leisurely past the choir room at the end of the day to see him in his element coaching the kids who were just like what he—they—used to be. Sometimes he would catch Kurt dancing or doing some adorable sashay or even just becoming frustrated when they got the directions wrong for the umpteenth time. Working with Kurt was just an upside of a job he already loved.

Just as he began to shut his eyes at the thought of the face he hadn't seen in three days on that Friday before, he heard yet another ping.

Dave rolled over onto his back, holding the phone above his face and squinting as the sun was starting to glare through the thin partitions in the blinds from the winter sun setting early.

'Dammit, Kurt, what am I going to do with you?' Dave said out loud in a raspy tone as he saw the name on his phone yet again. He swiped left to see the new text message that fell in line with the slew of others.

-I'm on my way over.-

Dave let out a sharp gasp as he felt the phone slip out of his hands and gravity took over. He rubbed his face, cursing under his breath at the impact as he sat up in bed once more.

Kurt was… What?

'Shit, fuck…' Dave grunted as he struggled to get up his limbs tangled amid the numerous blankets. He stood up carefully, holding securely on to the blanket where the corners met at his chest, and he could feel his legs wobble. He had only gotten up to piss that morning, but other than that he had been in bed all day. He was too tired to cook and didn't think he could stomach anything considering the state of his throat and how he could barely breathe out of his nose. But now Kurt was on his way over, and he was sure his living room, kitchen, and bathroom were a mess. He didn't have people over that often save for his dad a couple of times a month on the weekends and Kurt… Well… Kurt had only been over a handful of times since he had moved into his new apartment. Mostly to ask him his opinion on certain songs he was thinking about having the Glee Club sing. But now he was going to come over?

As Dave stumbled out of his bedroom, nearly tripping on the train of his blanket trailing behind him, as he typed a one-handed, half-assed reply saying that it wasn't necessary for him to come over, which he knew Kurt would ignore. Dave quickly glanced around his apartment. There was an empty beer bottle and plate on the coffee table—he stuck his finger into the beer bottle so he could carry the plate in the same hand—and took them to the kitchen. He was thankful that he didn't have any other dirty dishes in the sink, for once, and set the plate at the bottom of the basin and carefully set the beer bottle in the bin for recycling. He silently cursed himself for not renting an apartment with a guest bathroom. He picked up the scattered tissues by his bed and pushed them down further into the overfilled trash can and picked it up, shoving it out of sight under his desk. Then he moved past his bed into the bathroom. After flicking on the light, he saw the dirty socks, boxers, jeans, and t-shirt. Though his body ached in protest, he leaned over and clawed them all into one grip so he wouldn't be forced to take more than one trip and stood back up to chuck them into the dirty clothes hamper. With one more quick glance around the bathroom he felt satisfied enough and washed his hands, scrubbing away any excess germs from the constant coughing and blowing of his nose, his reflection in the mirror over the sink a grim reminder of how he felt physically.

Dave flicked the light off once more and trudged out to the living room, picking up the box of tissues along the way. Once he was in the living room he set the tissues on the coffee table and curled up in the corner of the couch, his feet on the middle cushion so that the blanket covered his toes, and his head propped up on the squashy arm. He checked his phone and saw that Kurt didn't reply. That could only mean two things: Either he was driving and didn't see the message he sent and was still on his way or he saw it , ignored it, and was still on his way. Dave reached over to the box of tissues and pulled yet another one out. He was getting on the low side, and considering how he was in no fit state to go driving anywhere, he knew he would have to resort to using a roll of toilet paper pretty soon.

For nearly half an hour Dave laid there, his eyes closed but unable to fall back asleep with the uncertainty of whether Kurt was still coming over or not. He didn't live more than ten minutes away from the school, so if Kurt was coming over he would have arrived already. But just as he was expecting to feel the vibration of the text message alert on his chest and the text message alert in his ears, he received a rather frantic sounding knock on the door instead.

"David, open up," the shrill voice called from the outside, like it was annoyed that he hadn't answered the door fast enough. Despite how horrid he was feeling, he felt the corner of his mouth quirk up in amusement and he rolled his eyes. He didn't bother replying, knowing he wouldn't be capable of handling that sort of volume. Instead he gingerly got up once more, stuffing his phone into his pocket to answer the door. As he unlocked the deadbolt, he swore he heard an exasperated "finally!" on the other side.

"Why you live on the third floor is beyond me." Once again, it was only by the voice that he knew he was talking to Kurt as once he opened the door as he was faced with a pair of arms loaded with three brown paper grocery bags.

"Hello to you too?" Dave grunted as he shut the door after the figure pushed past him. He pulled his blanket tighter over his shoulders as he crossed his arms, shielding himself from the draft of cold air that came in from outside. He slowly shuffled out of the foyer and into the living room once more as he listened to the crinkle of bags being set down in the kitchen.

"I would have been here sooner, but I thought I'd stop at the store and pick up a few things for you," Kurt said with little introduction. Kurt must have supposed the simple text was warning enough of his arrival, whether welcomed or not.

Dave took a few more steps towards the kitchen and saw the back of Kurt, dressed in an unusual amount of red and unloading what looked like plastic produce bags onto his kitchen counter. Dave bristled. He knew that they were co-workers and good enough friends, but that didn't mean Kurt had to coddle him. He was an adult.

And just what was Kurt thinking by coming here and risking getting sick, as well.

"You know I can take care of myself right?" Dave said in a monotone voice as he grabbed another tissue. For just a second, there was no sound in the kitchen and Dave was almost afraid to turn around to look at Kurt, as if he would be ready to lash out, but then he heard a tut followed by the clatter of something in a box.

And then footsteps.

"I highly doubt that, I…" Dave turned around, catching Kurt's gaze just as he was striding out of his kitchen, a small white box in the palm of his hand. It was no surprise that he looked radiant, as usual. His cheeks were pink with the cold and exertion of having to trek up three flights of stairs outside, but his hair was mussed slightly, like he was in a rush to get over there or else was extra participatory in Glee Club that day. He, on the other hand, knew just how much of a fucking mess he looked, with his unshaven jaw, dark circles, baggy pajama pants, and perpetually runny nose. For a moment he thought he saw a hint of remorse in Kurt's eyes, but it was gone and he chocked it up as just pure shock at seeing him in this state. That too was quickly replaced with an authoritarian glare that he had often seen use on misbehaving students.

"I bet you haven't even taken anything for your cold have you?" Kurt said, striding over to where he stood lamely by his coffee table. "And let me guess," Kurt picked up the tissue box and shook his head in dismay, "one ply and generic? Oh, David, why would you do that to yourself? Here, I bought you the extra soft kind with lotion in it," he said as he strolled back into the kitchen like he was the one who paid the rent.

"Kurt," Dave said dragging his feet behind Kurt as he followed him onto the frigid linoleum of the kitchen floor. "I really appreciate this. Really. But you really didn't—what is all that?" Dave had caught sight of the produce bags on the counter, only now realizing what all Kurt had bought.

"Just a few ingredients," Kurt said, turning back to the counter only this time he began opening Dave's cabinets like he was looking for something.

"Ingredients…" Dave mumbled under his breath. He craned his neck and he could see the orange of what looked like a couple of carrots and green from a bunch of celery stalks. "For like… A meal?"

"Mmhm…" Kurt hummed noncommittally, still unloading the bags. Now Kurt pulled out three cylindrical glass containers that Dave recognized as spice jars. Next came what looked like a container of broth and some sort of meat in the Styrofoam container.

"For my famous chicken noodle soup," Kurt disclosed, confirming Dave's suspicions. Dave sighed. As he bowed his head, leaning against the counter for support as he rubbed his face tiredly, he spotted the box Kurt was holding just moments before. He picked it up, examining it.

"You should take that," Kurt said, having spotted Dave looking at the medicine for Colds and Flu. Dave wasn't entirely sure which one he was dealing with, but, judging on the fact that he neglected to get flu shot that year, he was betting on the latter.

"Kurt…" Dave moaned. He hated that he had gone through all this trouble just for him. This was exactly why he didn't want to tell Kurt in the first place. He was sure he had better or more important things to do like grade papers.

"Where do you keep your glasses?" Kurt interrupted, moving on to the next set of cabinets to the left of the stove where he actually kept his plates and bowls. "I was looking for one before you distracted me. I bought you some ginger ale. You should be drinking a lot of liquids."

"Kurt."

"Also, I need a soup pot and a cutting board."

"Kurt!"

Kurt turned around sharply, and Dave started to cough. Once he had calmed down enough he was able to see Kurt's eyes open wide and startled; from his sudden coughing fit or for his outburst, he wasn't sure.

"Listen, I can't begin to say how much I appreciate you looking out for me like this," he started to say with sincerity as he took a tentative step closer, "but you just… You really shouldn't be here. The last thing you need is to get sick and not be able to coach the Glee Club when you're so close to nationals." Kurt cocked his head, his eyes narrowing and mouth pressing into a thin line.

"Do you know what today is?" Kurt asked. Dave could only stare.

"Today?" He racked his brain, trying to recall any special events that were happening at school that day.

"Mon… Day?" he asked slowly. Kurt crossed his arms and shook his head.

"No, today's date."

"Kurt," Dave groaned. "I… It's been a long day. One which I've spent almost completely indisposed."

"It's the fourteenth, Dave. The fourteenth of February," Kurt emphasized as he stepped towards him only to pull open the dishwasher between them, full of clean dishes. Dave was glad he remembered to turn it on the night before. But that didn't exactly clear anything up.

"Okay, so…" Dave drew out, wondering what Kurt was trying to imply.

"It's Valentine's Day, David. Nobody should be alone on Valentine's Day, let alone be sick and alone on Valentine's Day," he said, pulling out the bottom rack of dishes and looking pleased at the sight of the cutting board.

Valentine's Day. It had completely slipped his mind. Though he supposed that was expected considering he was single and didn't spend the day around sex-crazed teenagers handing out stuffed bears and candy hearts.

Or Gorilla Grams.

Dave shook his head, trying not to think of that particular moment. Why on earth would Kurt want to hang out while he moped around his apartment, feeling like he was ready to collapse with exhaustion any moment?

"Shouldn't you be… I don't know. Out having fun, or going out on a date or something?" he watched Kurt out of the corner of his eye as he pulled a rather sharp kitchen knife out from the dish drying rack on the counter.

"I was…" Kurt said softly as he set the utensil down on the cutting board, his back turned away from him once more as he fished the carrots out from the plastic bag.

"So what changed your mind?" Dave asked, trying not to sound to interested in Kurt's plans that he effectively ruined. Just one more thing he had to feel guilty about in regards to Kurt coming over.

"I never got around to asking him out," Kurt gave a one-shouldered shrug as he pushed the bag down the celery and started cutting the stalks from the bunch.

"Why not?" Kurt gave a sad sigh at the question.

"I've been meaning to for a while now. But I wasn't entirely sure how he felt about me. I know I can be overbearing and…" Dave wanted to cut in at that, even though he knew it was mostly out of guilt for how he handled Kurt's arrival. What Kurt referred to as overbearing others would call being kind, helpful, and selfless.

"Well," he continued. Dave watched as he set each stalk of celery aside, his actions as methodical and precise as any routine he taught to his students. "It's not like we—he and I, I mean—have that much in common. But it's just that…"

"What?" Dave asked, his heart beating unusually fast.

"He's just really smart," Dave looked up, regretting it instantly at the faraway smile on Kurt's face just barely noticeable from where he stood.

"And tall," Kurt added on. Dave gritted his teeth, trying hard not to imagine this picture perfect person Kurt was describing as he continued to list off features.

"Not to mention handsome," Kurt chuckled. "I see him every day and he always know how to make me laugh and I'm always wishing that I could spend more time with him." Dave wondered just who this person was—a guy at Kurt's apartment, perhaps, who could easily stop by and chat with him whenever he wanted.

"Right, well... I don't see what's stopping you. You should have asked him, he probably would have said yes in a heartbeat."

"I was planning on it today," Kurt said sadly and Dave's heart sank. Kurt brushed the stray celery leaves that stuck to his hands before he turned around, hugging his arms in front of his chest protectively, seemingly avoiding Dave's eyes at all costs. He could imagine why. Kurt never talked about the guys he was interested in in front of him.

"You still have time. Don't see why you're wasting your time hanging out around here." Dave turned around, ready to go to the front door to show Kurt out, but Kurt didn't follow him. But Kurt spoke up, prompting him to freeze before he was able to leave the kitchen.

"I would have had he come in to work today or, I don't know… Bothered to return any my text messages." Dave turned around slowly on the spot.

"What?" he rasped. He stared at Kurt who looked suddenly mortified.

"I…" Dave watched as Kurt's eyelashes fluttered shut and he took a deep breath. Dave's mouth felt very, very dry. "I didn't end Glee Club more than half an hour early because I thought my students had their routine down pat. I came over because…" Kurt nibbled on his lip shyly.

"Why did you come over, Kurt?" Dave breathed. He took another careful step towards Kurt, who was pressed into the corner where the counters met at a 90 degree angle. He eyed Kurt carefully, questioningly, but he needed to hear it for himself. To see the words forming on Kurt's lips. He couldn't handle any more uncertainty. He didn't think he could handle yet another beam of hope scattering before his eyes.

"Because I have feelings for you. Obviously," Kurt added in an afterthought, and with just a hint of fiery waspishness that Dave loved so much.

Dave couldn't help but laugh, belying the terrible state he was in—a laugh filled with relief and exquisite joy he could muster.

"Obviously?" Dave inclined his head in disbelief. " I thought…" he shook his head, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "I mean, we hardly see each other besides at work. How could I even begin to think that... That was how you felt."

It was Kurt's turn to laugh. He let his arms rest at his sides, though he toyed with the zippers on the sides of his pants nervously.

"Why do you think I always came up with those lame, work-related excuses for us to hang out? No offense, David, but Metallica? AC/DC? I don't think your choice in music is going to win us any show choir competitions. I just didn't think you'd want to hang out with me… Casually."

Dave stood there mouth agape, as he studied Kurt in disbelief. After all this time. All the lunch periods they spent together, all the laughing at each other's usually Sue Sylvester related jokes. All the smiles sent back and forth in the halls. He swallowed thickly, his throat burning from the use and his face from… Well, he was pretty sure it wasn't his fever that was making his cheeks burn. A part of him felt he should be insulted at Kurt's insinuation of him having a bad taste in music, but the other was just… Blissfully astounded. Though slightly annoyed at his own ignorance.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Dave questioned, his heart heavy once more.

"Oh, please… Like you'd still have feelings for me after all these years. After I turned you down."

Dave stared.

"Maybe not after all these years but… It didn't take much for them to come back after seeing you that first day back." Kurt covered his mouth with his hand, his startling cornflower blue eyes shimmering and more beautiful than Dave had ever seen them.

"You… Oh, David," Kurt squeaked, giving a watery laugh. He looked like he was about to cry.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Dave said, inching forward, feeling uneasy. He wanted to reach out and touch Kurt, to make sure he was okay. But he kept his distance for obvious reasons.

"I just… Dammit, I really want to kiss you right now," Kurt said frustrated, and Dave felt his heart soar regardless of the fact that he knew it was impossible—that doing so would make Kurt sick. That and the fact that his nose was as bright as Rudolph's and was how he was a walking cesspool of germs. What fucking horrible timing. But that didn't seem to stop Kurt.

"You know what? Screw it."

"Kurt, what are you…" Dave said, before being interrupted by the gentlest of hands cupping his cheeks and the barely there brush of Kurt's unbelievably soft lips upon his own. He was torn between pushing Kurt away and pulling him closer, so instead he just stood rooted on the spot no thanks to Kurt who had wound his arms around his neck. Kurt let out a giggle.

"You're, um… You're not wearing a shirt," Kurt was glancing down, now nibbling deviously on his lower lip with a sly smile at the sight of his chest hair peeking out from under the folds of fabric. Dave hastily tightened his grip on his sheet that had started to slip down one of his shoulders.

"Oh, shit… Yeah, I completely forgot. I'm sorry." Dave wasn't entirely sure what he was apologizing for. Kurt gave him no reason to believe he minded in the least.

"No. It's fine… You um…," from where Dave stood, nose to ruddy nose with Kurt, he could practically see the rosy hint of color blooming upon Kurt's cheeks. "You look good."

"I look like shit," Dave said bluntly, staring intently at Kurt's lips. It was very hard not to kiss him again now that he was there in his arms. He rubbed the small of Kurt's back in a small, circular motion.

"You really do look awful, though," Kurt said giving a sympathetic frown. He moved his hands to the back of Dave's head to smooth down his messy curls. "You poor thing."

"God, Kurt… I… Now you're gonna be next you realize that," he said morosely. "I think you pretty much sealed your fate there." Kurt began to pull away, much to his dismay. It was still probably for the best.

"Eh, I'm surrounded by a bunch of unhygienic teenagers who are constantly swapping saliva, borrowing my sheet music, and putting their hands all over the school piano." Kurt ran his hand soothingly up and down Dave's arm. "It's bound to happen sooner or later. Besides, I got tired of waiting," Kurt said simply as he turned his attention back to the food laid out on the counter.

"Yeah, I know but… I'm just really gross right now," Dave nitpicked as he tore open the new box of tissues Kurt had set out for him. He took one out and blew his nose. He let out a moan. He didn't know tissues could be that soft.

Kurt turned his head and wrinkled his nose at the noise.

"I guess that's just a testament to how much I like you." Dave smiled contentedly to himself. "Speaking of which, I came all this way to make you some soup, so why don't you just take some of that medicine and lay down on the couch and I'll tell you when it's ready, okay?" Kurt said, getting started on washing the vegetables. "Let me do this for you. And then you can give me as many 'I told you so's as you want once I inevitably become sick." Dave nodded, letting out a sigh as he grabbed a glass from the correct cabinet by the sink to pour himself a glass of the ginger ale Kurt bought and to take his pills.

"You know," Dave said casually, "I actually don't feel quite as bad as I did before you got here." He set the glass down with a clink. "I guess it's true what they say."

Dave watched Kurt working. Both of their faces were alight with a new-found happiness. Dave knew now better than ever that, no matter what would happen, it was the worst case scenarios that would make their budding relationship blossom and grow strong enough to weather any storm on the horizon.

"Oh," Kurt said interestedly. "And what's that?"

Walking up behind Kurt, Dave wrapped and arm around his lithe waist and buried his face in the man's hair before pressing his lips to his temple.

"A kiss really does make you feel better."