The next morning finds Kurt frantically running around, brushing his hair while the pasta is boiling, quickly ironing his shirt with the roast still in the oven. He'd overslept, his favorite fish shop had been out of scallops -which meant he'd had to completely rethink tonight's menu- and on top of that he'd discovered Gary and Ben would be arriving at seven instead of at eight. So when Blaine walks out of his room a little after six, wearing a red striped sweater and a blue bow-tie, Kurt doesn't have much patience left.

"You can't wear that!" he exclaims, turning away from the stove to make sure Blaine would see the disapproval on his face. But while the message seems to come across, the reason why apparently eludes Blaine.

"What's wrong with it?" he asks, looking himself over and then back at Kurt. "You said casual chic - this is casual chic."

"It is also what you wore when your brother invited us over for dinner three weeks ago," Kurt says impatiently, rolling his eyes. Blaine's face falls immediately, taking that beaten-puppy look that always manages to deflate Kurt no matter how angry he is, and Kurt sighs, pushing down his annoyance as best as he can as he walks towards Blaine, cupping his cheek in his hand and gently rubbing his thumb over Blaine's cheek in a wordless apology.

"Sit," he says softly, nodding with his head towards the kitchen table where a small plate of lasagna is waiting for Blaine. "Eat first, and then I'll help you pick something different, all right?"

He turns around to the other end of the counter to open the top drawer and take out one of the little zip-lock bags Blaine uses to sort his daily dose of pills in. Seeing Blaine take them hasn't become any easier, but he knows what they do now, knows why Blaine takes them and why he needs to have them at the same time every day, and it makes them less threatening somehow - more a reassurance that Blaine has the virus under control than a reminder that he has the virus at all.

He puts the bag on the table next to Blaine's plate, and looks back up at Blaine, who hasn't moved at all, a puzzled look on his face.

"Eat," Kurt repeats as he walks back to the stove, not sure what's suddenly gotten into Blaine, "before it gets cold. I know it's not much but I still want you to be able to eat with us, too, later."

Finally, Blaine starts moving, but he stays silent as he finishes his early dinner, and when he puts away his plate Kurt turns down the gas. He hasn't been able to finish the sauce beforehand as he had hoped, but he guesses that, for the time he had, he's done the best job he could - Gary and Ben would just have to accept Kurt spending a little more time in the kitchen in between courses.

"Come on," he says, pushing Blaine towards his room, "let's find you something decent to wear."

.

Dressing Blaine turns out to be a little harder than Kurt had anticipated, seeing as the dark blue button-up he'd mentally picked out for him turned out to have a stain on the collar, and Blaine had flat-out refused to wear the maroon pants Kurt had suggested next.

"Those are way too tight," he had objected. "There is no way I'm wearing those pants in front of my brother and his boyfriend."

They had finally managed to agree on something, though, but when Kurt moves to tie Blaine's bow-tie, Blaine startles, and Kurt quirks an eyebrow, shooting him a questioning smile.

"What?" he asks when Blaine doesn't say anything, just stares at him. "You act like I've never tied your tie for you before. Now stand still, I don't want the knot to be off-center."

In truth, it ísn't the first time Kurt has helped Blaine with his tie, although in all fairness he can't remember when the last time was. Before thát night, that's for sure. Maybe that's why Blaine stands so stiffly under his touch, Kurt thinks, why he steps back as soon as Kurt is finished. He wants to say something about it, but before he gets the chance the doorbell rings, and Blaine immediately stirs.

"I'll go get it," he says, walking out of the room. "Make sure you wipe that drop of cream off your cheek before you come out."

Immediately, Kurt turns to the mirror behind him, frantically wiping at his cheeks before he realizes there was no cream on either of them in the first place. But when he turns back to glare at Blaine, his flatmate has already left the room, and he rolls his eyes. Just sometimes he's convinced Blaine really is just a five year-old in disguise.

.

It was a silly joke, Blaine knows, but it had been worth it to see Kurt's face and -most importantly- to have just an extra three seconds of alone time to try to recompose himself.

He has no idea what has gotten into Kurt. For weeks, he had avoided any and all physical contact with Blaine, but ever since the girls' visit the previous weekend he seemed to have gone back to the way they had before - cuddling on the couch, hugging each other goodbye, ... It isn't like Blaine has anything against it, per se, but he's just not too sure what it all means. Even if he had missed Kurt's proximity before, at least it had been easier to keep himself from doing something stupid. Like, say, kiss him. Because having Kurt close again, getting to touch him again, has only made it painfully clear that he is still completely and hopelessly head over heels for him. And when they cuddle up on the couch together to watch a movie at night, or Gary invites the two of them over for dinner, when they cook together, and laugh together and kiss each other hello in the morning, it's hard to remember that they're just friends. Until Blaine needs to take his pills, that is, or he tries to say something about his summer internship. Then the distance suddenly gapes between them, the unspoken fears and worries a bottomless pit that has Kurt running in the other direction as fast as he can. And knowing that if anything is meant to happen between them it is Kurt who will have to take initiative, not Blaine, only makes it all the more frustrating.

"Heya little brother!" Gary beams when Blaine opens the door, immediately moving forward to crush him into a hug. "My better half has a present for yours!"

He points at Benjamin, who is laughing sheepishly, holding up a big bouquet of prairie gentians, and Blaine swats at his brother.

"Don't let him hear you call him that!" he hisses as Kurt walks into the hallway, but Gary just laughs.

"Seeing as he just walked out of your room with rosy cheeks I'm not convinced," he mumbles amusedly between his teeth, but before Blaine can think of a retort Kurt is already standing next to him, kissing Gary and Benjamin hello and cooing over the bouquet, and it's all Blaine can do to smile politely, take their guests' coats and hang them away as Kurt leads them into the living room.

They do have a great time, though, as they usually do when the four of them meet up. Gary has the same razor sharp tongue Kurt has, and Benjamin is a part-time musician, like Blaine, has even filled in for the drummer of Blaine's band on some occasions, and as a result they never run out of things to talk about.

But when they have finished the main course, and Kurt is in the kitchen preparing dessert, Gary turns to Blaine with a question Blaine hadn't thought he would have to hear that night.

"So, how did last week's test come back?" Gary asks, looking at Blaine innocently as he dabs his lips with his napkin. "Any improvement?"

Immediately Blaine can feel the panic rise in his chest, and he glances at the kitchen where, fortunately, Kurt seems blissfully unaware of the new conversation topic. Despite Gary's insistence, he still hasn't told Kurt about the possible problem with his medication, and he has a feeling Kurt will not appreciate finding out through any other source than him.

"Nope, next test in a month, then probably cocktail switch, now shut up before he hears you!"

The words come rushing out of his mouth, and he stares his brother down, begging him with his eyes to drop it already, but his hope is futile.

"He needs to know," Gary bites, trying to shrug off the hand Benjamin has laid on his shoulder in an attempt to calm him down, but Blaine squints, leaning forward.

"Maybe so, but it's still my call to make," he grits through his teeth. "This is between Kurt and me and you have no right to interfere with that."

That's how Kurt finds them sitting at the table when he returns from the kitchen moments later: the two brothers glaring at each other, Benjamin's hand back on Gary's shoulder, softly but firmly holding him back, and he looks between them in confusion.

"Everything all right?" he asks, a little hesitant and not in the least bit reassured by the broad grin Gary flashes in his direction.

"Oh yes," Gary responds airily as he straightens himself, pushing away his boyfriend's hand once more. "Blaine here was just telling us all about his last test results, weren't you, Blainey?"

"Test results?"

Kurt's voice sounds just a little higher pitched than usual, and Blaine has to give him credit for not freaking out on the spot. Because despite the clear hint of panic and apprehension in his eyes Kurt continues to serve each of them their dessert, his eyes big and pleading as he looks at Blaine for an explanation, and it's almost more than Blaine can take.

Tell me he's joking, Kurt seems to ask, tell me this is not something more you've kept from me, not again.

And Blaine is going to kill his brother as soon as he can get away from Kurt - because he'd promised himself, he'd promised Kurt he would never do this to him again, and yet there they were. These were the times Blaine wished they would be able to talk about these things more easily -or really, at all- although if he's honest with himself he has to admit he probably wouldn't have told Kurt either way, not until there was an actual reason for concern. There doesn't seem to be a way out of the conversation, though, and maybe, Blaine thinks, maybe if he would just explain himself here and now, in front of Ben and Gary where he knows Kurt won't want to make a scene, maybe then they can just leave it at that and forget about it.

"I had an extra test last week to see if my meds were still working properly," he therefore says stiffly, keeping his eyes on his brother and almost challenging him to call him out on his toned-down version of the facts. "They're thinking of changing my cocktail."

"It's a normal procedure," Benjamin's deep voice suddenly adds, "as time passes, the patient's needs do too, so sometimes switching therapy is the best thing to do."

Blaine shoots his future brother-in-law a grateful look. He's in med school, and so Kurt will hopefully attach at least some value to his words, and not worry about Gary's not-so-off-hand remark too much. It seems to work, because after just a split second of silence Kurt nods, and when he sits down he raises his glass.

"To us, then!" he says cheerfully, his smile widening when first Benjamin, then Blaine, and finally Gary join him for the toast. But even as the conversation shifts to easier topics, Blaine can feel Kurt's eyes on him throughout the rest of the meal. He's been hoping for so long they could find a way to talk to each other the way they could before, that they would finally acknowledge the elephant in the room with them and give him a place, tonight he prays that, once again, Kurt's fears and insecurities will keep him from bridging the gap.

.

"See you later!" Kurt waves their visitors goodbye. "And thank you so much for the flowers!"

He's not surprised to find Blaine's no longer standing behind him by the time he closes the door, and he can hear the slightly too-loud clattering of plates and glasses coming from the kitchen as Blaine loads their dishwasher. The mere fact he's actually doing it spontaneously tells Kurt more about how much Blaine wants to avoid this conversation than any words could have, and it makes him all the more angry.

To be completely fair, he isn't exactly jumping for it either, but they have to, he knows. Because if there's one thing he's learned from his internet research it is that, no matter what Benjamin said, ART cocktails aren't just switched without a good reason. And he already worries himself sick over Blaine as it is - he needs to be able to trust that his drugs, at least, are doing what they're supposed to do.

"So, care to tell me what that was all about?" he asks when everything is cleaned up and there's nothing more Blaine can distract himself with.

"What whát was about?" Blaine evades the question, moving to the couch and turning on the television. Kurt doesn't even bother to block Blaine's view to the screen but immediately moves to pull out the plug, and Blaine rolls his eyes at Kurt's drama.

"Why didn't you tell me you got tested?" Kurt repeats.

"I get tested every four months," Blaine says, still feigning ignorance, and it's slowly getting on Kurt's nerves. "It's standard procedure, you know that."

"As far as I got it this particular test wasn't standard procedure at all," Kurt frowns, folding his arms. "And I wasn't asking you why you got tested, I was asking you why you didn't tell me."

"Because I didn't think it was important," Blaine explains agitatedly. "It was a routine check up - I've had a gazillion of them over the years and I have even more to come. If you absolutely want to come along, don't let me stop you, but I'm warning you, it will be boring and quite frankly a waste of your time. Now can you plug the TV back in?"

Kurt's jaw clenches.

"This is not about me coming along or not," he says tightly, "this is about you not telling me what's going on with you."

"Well, I'm sorry, but I seem to have missed the part where I have the obligation to tell you everything that's going on in my life," Blaine sneers, and it only serves to fuel Kurt's anger further.

"It was right there with the part where we're friends," he shoots back, "or doesn't that mean anything to you?"

"Oh, it means a lot to me," Blaine says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "The question is, does it mean anything to you?"

Kurt's jaw falls open. After everything they've been through, everything that's happened between them, Blaine is actually questioning his loyalty?

"Of course it means something to me! Why is that even up for discussion?"

"Because I can't count on you!" Blaine suddenly exclaims, arms flailing. "You insist I don't take my pills in private, but when I take them at the dinner table you look away. You spent weeks avoiding me without any explanation at all, and then suddenly you decide to get all cuddly and touchy with me and just expect me to go along with it. You say you want me to be honest with you but every time I make an effort you freak out. I just never know how you'll react to something and that makes it really hard to be around you sometimes!"

The words cut deep, the truth behind them stinging, and Kurt can feel the tears burn behind his eyes.

"Well, sometimes it's hard to be around you, too!" he shouts back, but there's no real anger in his voice, just disappointment and insecurity. "And you're not being fair! I made an extra dinner for you tonight, I gave you your pills! Yesterday Mercedes tried to convince me to take a cat and I told her we couldn't! I try, you know. I try so hard - I make sure you have a healthy dinner on time, but then you go out with wet hair and no scarf when it's freezing outside and it's like you don't even appreciate what I do for you!"

"But that's just the point!" Blaine exasperates. "I don't want you to do all that for me!"

Kurt gasps, positively on the verge of breaking into tears now, because he can't believe this is happening, how with one single sentence Blaine dismisses all the effort Kurt has made in trying to make things work again. It seems Blaine picks up on his inner turmoil, though, because he takes a deep breath, rubbing his face with his hands before he looks back up at Kurt, his shoulders slumped and looking more defeated than Kurt has ever seen him.

"I don't want you to do any of that, Kurt," he repeats a little more flatly, even though his tone is still insistent. "I just want you to talk to me. You promised you wouldn't bottle things up and would talk to me if you needed to. I know you have questions, and fears, but instead of coming to me you go to Nick, and Rachel, and god knows who else. And I'm not saying you can't talk to them, but don't you think I know a little better how this all works? Because I know it's hard. You really think I don't know that? You think I don't see how you flinch and walk on eggshells every time the topic of conversation comes even close to anything HIV-related? And I just... I just want you to fucking talk to me. Why won't you just talk to me, Kurt?"

Kurt dips his head, wrapping his arms around himself because he's sure if he lets go of himself he might just crumble. He doesn't know when the conversation changed from being about Blaine keeping secrets to being about him, and he's not quite sure he's ready to admit to Blaine everything that's been gnawing at him.

"Because I feel so silly," he finally says, so softly he hopes maybe Blaine just won't hear it. "Those people on the internet, and Nick, and you... you make everything seem so easy and self-evident and it makes me feel like I'm seeing problems that aren't there and it all seems so stupid but I still can't get over it. And it's just one thing after another, you know - that group, and your meds, and Brad and Mercedes, and that stupid internship, and now apparently those tests, and sometimes it's just a bit much, ok?"

Blaine holds out his hand and when Kurt takes it, he pulls him closer, wordlessly asking him to sit down next to him.

"It's not silly, Kurt," he says. "It's really not. It took me years to get to where I am now. Do you... do you remember when you first transferred to Dalton? When I got sick and you got so frustrated because the nurse wouldn't give me anything?"

Kurt nods, wiping his cheeks with his sleeve, and he tilts his head questioningly, not quite understanding what Blaine is trying to say.

"I was having a really rough time then," Blaine starts explaining. "I'd spent the whole summer at home, trying to avoid my parents who had no clue how to deal with their pubescent HIV-positive son, and I got so sick of it all. I'd only been on meds for just a little over a year but the idea that it would never, ever end got me so angry. So I stopped taking them. I skipped doctor's appointments. Refused to go home during the weekends or even talk to my parents. They started having the school nurse supervise me to get me back on my meds, but I would try to hide the pills under my tongue or something equally stupid. Taking them irregularly was worse than not taking them at all, and I got resistant. I got a new cocktail -this was right before we met- but it gave me the worst nightmares. The next one got me puking my guts out, as you may well remember. And then finally we found something that worked, and I found a reason to actually stick to therapy."

He smiles up at Kurt, squeezing his hand, and Kurt can feel his eyes widen when the implication of Blaine's words sinks in.

"But that was almost two years after I got diagnosed," Blaine continues, "and it still wasn't until I got to New York that I really started to accept the situation for what it was and make the best out of it. But it took a lot of time, and a lot of talking to a lot of people."

"Like the support group?" Kurt asks meekly.

"Like the support group," Blaine confirms. "And Gary. And yes, some people take it all very lightly and don't make a fuss about it, but for others it's more difficult. And that's ok. So... don't be too hard on yourself, ok?"

Kurt shrugs, his gaze focused on the couch between them, not quite ready to meet Blaine's eyes yet.

"I just don't know what to do," he says, sniffing a little still, and Blaine smiles, propping his elbow on the back of the couch.

"Talk to me, maybe?" he suggests. "And, you know, stop treating me like I'm sick?"

Kurt flinches away, but Blaine grabs him by the wrist, tugging him closer.

"Hey... hey, don't do that," he says, ducking his head in an attempt to make Kurt look at him and he reaches out to lift Kurt's chin with his finger when Kurt doesn't give in at first. "This is not me blaming you for anything, this is me talking to you about us, ok? Because I know that you're worried, but I need you to understand I'm not. sick, Kurt. I have a chronic infection, but I'm not sick. And yes, a healthy lifestyle is important, but not especially more so for me than for anyone else. My CD4 count is at 1100, that's perfectly normal - my immune system can take a common cold or a pet. So if you want a cat, take a cat; if you can't get dinner ready on time, I'll fix something myself, and if I can't I'll order take out. It won't kill me. Promise."

Kurt winces at Blaine's last words, but Blaine moves his hand to cup his chin, gently turning Kurt towards him.

"Listen - I like that you take care of me. I like that you care for me. But I'm more than just that virus, Kurt. And if you can't look past that there's only so much I can do. I don't want you to be my personal nurse, I don't want you to organize your life around me, let alone this infection. I want us to be friends."

"Friends?" Kurt raises an eyebrow, and if the conversation wasn't so serious, he would probably chuckle at the bashful smile that appears on Blaine's face. Instead, he puts his hand over Blaine's, giving it a small squeeze as he lowers their hands together.

"You really feel like I'm mothering you?" he asks meekly, glaring a little when Blaine starts chuckling.

"Smothering, more like," Blaine says, his smile widening when Kurt swats at him. "No, it's... sometimes it's a bit... much."

Kurt nods, pursing his lips.

"I'm sorry," he says softly, not quite looking at Blaine. "That... that wasn't the intention. At all. I just- I feel so useless sometimes - I want to be there for you, but I don't know how, and then I bump against my own boundaries and it's all such a mess. And I..." He looks down before turning his gaze back to Blaine. "I worry. I worry about you, about us, because it seems like I always miss something, like every time I think I know it all, you said it all, something new comes out that you haven't been telling me and I start worrying about all the other things you might not be telling me and I... I just need you to tell me you're all right. Sometimes, I just need to hear you're all right."

"Well, I'm all right," Blaine says, after a little pause, his voice quavering slightly. "And I'm sorry, too. I tried to protect you, not to worry you. That obviously didn't have the desired effect. As I should have well known."

Kurt frowns, and Blaine lets out a small chuckle.

"Gary told me I should let you decide what you could and couldn't handle," he explains. "Because I didn't want to bring up the tests before I knew for sure what was going on, didn't want to add it to all the everything else you were already struggling with. Gary disagreed. So don't even think for one second him telling you about this was an accidental slip on his part. I'll have to have a word with him about that, by the way."

They smile at each other, the type of shy smile people exchange when they've just come out of a big fight, and they think they're all right now, but aren't quite sure yet.

"So," Blaine says after a short silence, "you want to know what's going on?"

Kurt nods, his stomach clenching in anticipation, but really if he can't make it through this, how can he ever expect to make it with Blaine?

"The last routine check-up in October showed that my kidneys weren't doing as well as they should have," Blaine starts. "Nothing alarming, and since it has been a stressful summer with... well, with everything that's happened, it could have been a lot of things, and it didn't seem that much out of the ordinary. But my doctor thought it best to keep a closer eye on it anyway, so we decided not to wait the usual four months but have an earlier follow-up test. Which is the one that came back yesterday."

"And?" Kurt prompts when Blaine doesn't continue, although he already knows the answer.

"... and the values hadn't improved. On the contrary, actually."

"So what does that mean?" Kurt asks, and he feels the panic rise in his chest. "Your kidneys are failing? Does that... does that mean you're getting AIDS?"

"My kidneys might be failing," Blaine corrects him, although that just sounds like semantics to Kurt, "and no, I'm not getting AIDS - you don't get that diagnosis unless your CD4 count drops below 300 or something, and as I said, I'm way above that. There's really very little chance I'll ever even get AIDS. Anyways, I'll have another test before christmas, and if things still haven't improved by then I'll probably switch cocktails. It's one of the meds I'm on that is causing it, most likely, it's a fairly common side effect."

"So they give drugs which they know cause kidney failure to people that are already sick with HIV?" Kurt asks, incredulous. "How does that even compute?"

But Blaine shakes his head.

"First of all: not. sick," he says pointedly, "secondly: my kidneys are still coping; and thirdly: it's very hard to predict how someone will react to certain drugs, especially long-term, so really all you can do is figure it out empirically - just try and hope for the best."

But all Kurt hears is that, apparently, Blaine is on drugs that are ruining his kidneys, and his doctor won't do anything about it.

"So they're using you as a guinea pig?" he exasperates. "They can't just... you can't let them do that! You need - we need to get you to the hospital, they can't just wait another month before doing something, suppose something happens and-and your kidneys get damaged or something, then what?"

He tries to get up from the couch, dragging Blaine along with him, and he vaguely realizes he's rambling but he can't help it - Blaine is hurting and nobody, not even Blaine himself, seems to take it seriously.

He's not sure when Blaine moved closer to him, or when he took his face in his hands, but suddenly he's right there in front of him, telling him to breathe, to calm down and to just breathe, and slowly Kurt can feel his heart rate go down again, can feel the panic subside until breathing becomes easier and Blaine seems to consider it safe to let go of him.

"You know, if you're trying to prove Gary wrong, you're doing a great job," Blaine says jokingly, but his face is so open, so honest, that Kurt knows he's not trying to simply dismiss him. "You're panicking and it's not even necessary."

"But-" Kurt starts before Blaine puts a finger against his lips, cutting him off.

"But nothing. Your dad may have allowed you to fuss over him, but I'm not having it. I'm not your dad, and you're not my mother. You remember how we got you on a different cocktail after that first week because you weren't reacting well to them, right? It's the same thing now. And if I'm not worried, if the doctor's not worried, then that's because there is nothing to be worried about. Do you honestly think they would let me go home if I could drop dead any minute? My brother would prosecute the hell out of them."

"And me," Kurt pipes up, bringing a smile to Blaine's face.

"And you," he concedes with a nod. "They're keeping a close eye on me - I'm fine, I will be fine, so don't worry, all right?"

Kurt nods, even though it's more to confirm he heard what Blaine said than because he actually agrees. He takes a deep breath.

"When is the next test?"

"December 12."

"And how long does it take for the results to come back?"

"A couple of days? A week, tops."

"Ok," Kurt says determinedly, sitting up a bit straighter and waving his finger. "I'm warning you now, Anderson - if I don't hear anything about this by the 20th I'm going to take your whole bow-tie collection hostage until you tell me."

Blaine gasps in mock horror.

"You would never!"

Kurt shoots him a pointed look, and Blaine laughs and places his hand over his heart.

"I promise I'll keep you informed. Better?"

He opens his arms and Kurt takes the invitation, scooting closer to Blaine and snuggling up against him.

"While we're at it, though," he hears Blaine say above him, "is there anything else you wanted to talk about?"

Why are you only considering internships in HIV-active associations? What do you talk about during those support group meetings? Why do you want to be friends with Brad so badly? How am I ever going to have sex with you?

Kurt shakes the thoughts out of his head immediately, however. Despite Blaine's reassurance that he's not being silly, he feels the first questions might be just a little too personal, and he needs to know a little more about the last before he can talk about it to Blaine.

"No," he therefore says softly, pushing himself a little tighter against Blaine. "But thanks for asking."

"Thanks for talking to me," Blaine murmurs back, pressing his lips against Kurt's hair.

"Promise you'll tell me if there's anything else I might possibly want to know?" Kurt asks, and he feels Blaine hum in agreement.

"If you promise me you won't stop talking to me again?"

Kurt nods, letting his thumb stroke over Blaine's chest, and when Blaine grabs his hand and pushes it back, he looks up at him a little indignantly.

"What?"

"I just wanted to ask one more thing?" Blaine says seriously, although there's a mischievous twinkle in his eyes when Kurt cocks his head, surprised.

"Can you plug the tv back in? I want to catch the last part of The Bachelo-"

He's not nearly fast enough to duck the pillow Kurt hurls at him.