For Kurt, the rest of that morning passes in a daze. Blaine's positive HIV status is only the first shock of that day, and he feels himself slowly disconnect from everything that's going on around him as the realization starts to sink in. He could get AIDS. He let his hormones win from his common sense, he had unprotected sex, and now he could get AIDS. He answers the questions that are fired at him on auto-pilot.

What's your status? Negative. Do you have or have you had any other STI's? No. When were you last tested? Six months ago. No, seven. Did you have unprotected sex since then? No. Yes. Last night. What kind of sex was involved? I blew him. Did either of you cum in the other person's mouth? He did. Did you swallow? Yes. Did anything else happen that you were worried about? Yes. No. I don't know.

"He brushed his teeth before coming to bed. And flossed."

Blaine.

Kurt doesn't want him around, not really, feeling strangely exposed as he is forced to lay out the details of his current and past sex life. He shouldn't be embarrassed to talk about these things in front of Blaine -he already knows it all, or almost- but he is, because when he looks at Blaine, it's like he's seeing someone else altogether. He can almost feel the danger emanating from him, can almost see the virus crawl underneath his skin.

It makes him want to throw up.

But Blaine holds his hand when they draw blood samples to test for pre-existing STI's and Kurt's grateful for that, at least. He's grateful that he's not alone when the doctor explains how he'll have to take antiretroviral drugs for four weeks, after which he will be tested again, and again after an additional two months. Kurt's head is spinning - it will be three months, three months before he can be sure, three months before he knows whether or not Blaine has signed his death sentence. He'll have to go through finals without knowing whether he'll be able to finish his degree, he'll have to spend his summer internship at the Costume Department making sure he doesn't accidentally cut himself, or prick himself with a needle, because he's a liability now.

It doesn't matter that everybody insists that, even come the worst, he should be able to live a normal life. It doesn't matter the doctor gives him good chances and assures him the PEP treatment is just to be on the safe side, because of the flossing, and the swallowing. They're at it quickly, and the risk of infection through oral sex is small to begin with, anyway.

He almost chokes when he's given three bottles of pills - they will get him through the first week of treatment, until his follow-up appointment with the doctor. They want him to talk to someone as well, a counsellor or something along those lines, and when Blaine suggests he talk to Linda, he nods mutely. She's the one who has been following up on Blaine, apparently, and she seems nice enough, although later Kurt can't remember anything she said to him that day.

-o0o-

When they finally arrive home, Kurt just lets himself plop onto the couch, not even bothering to take off his coat or shoes. He wonders if he should call his dad. He doesn't want to worry him but he knows neither Burt nor Carole will appreciate being kept out of the loop for months if it turns out... if he...

He can't even think it.

He's pulled from his thoughts when he sees Blaine crouch down across from the coffee table. He's holding a small, rectangular box, but it isn't until Kurt sees him shaking the pills out of their bottle that he realizes it's a pill dispenser. And somehow, that's what hauls him out of his lethargy. That box, that he might have to keep next to his toothbrush every single day of the rest of his life, the symbol of what his life will be like if the PEP treatment doesn't work.

"What are you doing?" he asks, and he hates how high-pitched his voice sounds, how the anxiety and anger he's feeling are so blatantly present.

"Sorting out your pills. It's easier to have them in a dispenser, especially at the beginning, to make sure you don't forget."

Blaine talks as if they're discussing wardrobe reorganizations and if anything, it pisses Kurt off even more.

"So that's it? We're not even going to talk about this? I'll just take the pills, hope for the best and pretend nothing's happened?"

The silence that follows is poignant, and Kurt can see Blaine swallow painfully as he puts down the dispenser.

"I don't know what to say," he says - and Kurt wishes he would look him in the eye, because it's like Blaine's not even talking to Kurt, like he's just saying random, meaningless words. "I don't think there's anything I can say. I made a mistake. I screwed up."

Kurt huffs.

"You screwed up?" he scolds, incredulous. "You screwed up? Blaine, 'screwed up' doesn't even begin to cover it! You fucked up, you fucked up big time, you potentially ruined my life because apparently not only am I not good enough for you, you feel the need to sleep around as well!"

"Wh-what?" The shock on Blaine's face is real, but Kurt pays it no attention. It's as if a dam has broken inside him, and the words just come streaming out.

"Don't you even try to deny it, Warbler boy, because I'm not having it - god only know how long you've been lying to me and I'm putting an end to it right now. Do you even like me? Do you even give a shit? It's one thing not to return my feelings, Blaine, I would have understood, really, it would have been hard, but I would've gotten over it - but pretending to like me, avoiding sex like the plague because the only way you think I'm even attractive is when you have your beer goggles on, only to go have some random, anonymous, unprotected sex with a stranger?"

"NO! I never-!"

"And when were you planning on telling me this? Were you even planning on telling me at all? I thought we were friends, Blaine, I thought we were boyfriends. Doesn't that mean anything to you? Doesn't our friendship, our relationship - don't I mean anything to you?"

"I was g-"

"You know what, I don't have to put up with this."

Kurt stands up, pointing at the door.

"Out," he bites.

The sudden calmness that Kurt is emanating right now is scarier to Blaine than the fury he was spreading before. Fury he could deal with -you couldn't live with Kurt Hummel and not learn to deal with his bouts of fury and passion-, but this, this ice cold, distant copy of Kurt... he's not sure how to deal with that.

"Kurt, please," he begs, "let me explain."

"There is nothing to explain."

It sounds unforgiving, and Blaine gets the eerie feeling that's exactly what it is.

"It's not what you think, if you would just let me-"

"Out."

"You have t-"

"Out!"

"Kurt, I-"

"OUT!"

-o0o-

Blaine doesn't show at all over the next three days. He doesn't call, doesn't text, doesn't even stop by to pick up his school books or a change of clothes. It bothers Kurt more than he likes to admit, but he refuses to take the first step - it was Blaine who was at fault here, after all, not him, even if he might have overreacted a little bit. Although - was there such a thing as overreacting when you found out your boyfriend had cheated on you and thought AIDS might make a wonderful late Christmas present?

Still, Kurt knows he's made more than one hurtful comment he didn't actually mean, and the complete lack of news from Blaine leaves him on edge. The constant state of nausea he is in -courtesy of the PEP- does nothing if not make him more irritated. So when Linda -pretty, polite, Blaine's therapist Linda - and why did he agree to seeing her, again?- asks him the innocent 'So how are you doing?', he snaps.

"I'm doing just great. My boyfriend cheated on me, got HIV in the process and conveniently forgot to tell me, only to proceed to possibly sign my death sentence. It's exactly what I was missing in my life."

He glares at her icily, expecting to immediately pick up on his dead man walking reference. It is the first thing everyone said to him, after all, the first thing all the blogs and websites insist on shoving down his throat: 'HIV is not a death sentence, not anymore', 'you can live a perfectly normal life with HIV', 'provided adequate medical care your life expectancy will not decrease significantly', ... . It makes Kurt sick to his stomach. True as it all was, the fact of the matter remained that this thing would -could, he reminds himself- kill him sooner or later, and the fact that it would -could- take a lifetime rather than a couple of years actually only made it worse.

But the therapist seems to have picked up on something else entirely.

"Why are you so convinced he cheated on you?" she asks.

"We've been best friends forever," Kurt replies, grudgingly, "and I know for a fact he's never had a boyfriend. He would have told me if he did. The fact that he didn't proves he was ashamed of admitting he slept with someone, which would only make sense if he was cheating on me."

Linda nods, as if the reasoning sounds plausible to her, too.

"Tell me, does Blaine strike you as a cheater?"

"No."

Even Kurt is surprised at how fast the reply comes out.

"Has he admitted to cheating on you?"

NO! I never-!

"... no."

"Then why the conviction?"

Her expression is neutral, but Kurt can feel it - this woman knows Blaine, too. She knows he is too honest to ever cheat, and too honorable not to admit it if he ever did make the mistake.

"Because he has to have cheated."

He's avoiding the question and he knows it. She knows it.

"Why?"

It takes Kurt a moment to formulate his answer, and when the words finally come out, they are purposeful, slow - as if he wants to postpone saying them as long as possible.

"Because if he cheated... our relationship was a lie. The last ten weeks were a lie. But if he didn't... if he... if he was positive before..." He closes his eyes. "...then our whole friendship has been a lie."

-o0o-

"We should go see the nurse, Blaine, this isn't normal."

They were sitting cross-legged on Blaine's bed, across from each other. Blaine looked absolutely miserable after hanging over the toilet for the past three hours, but he still refused to go see the school nurse.

"She can't do anything, Kurt, she'll just give me a note why I couldn't attend class and that's it."

Blaine was right, although Kurt didn't know why. He was sure that if any other student in Dalton was puking their guts out every day for three days straight, they would be made to see a doctor, their parents would be informed, and they might even be sent home. When Kurt dragged the nurse up to their dorm, however -seeing as Blaine wouldn't go to the nurse- she just established Blaine didn't have a temperature, brought him a glass of water, and further refused to even examine him.

"It's just these... vitamins. My body has to get used to them, that's all."

Kurt hesitated. Blaine's health had been shaky, to say the least, the last couple of weeks, and when his GP had finally prescribed him an elaborate vitamin treatment, Kurt had initially been hopeful. But while Blaine insisted the treatment was actually working, Kurt wasn't so sure, not when it involved Blaine running out of class every other hour. He was missing something, he knew he was.

"You know you can tell me anything, right?"

"I'm positive."

Blaine blurted out the words, and Kurt looked at him in confusion.

"You're positive? Positive about what?"

But something in Blaine shifted, and although Kurt couldn't put his finger on what it was exactly, he got the distinct feeling that not only did he miss something important, he had just said something terribly wrong.

But Blaine smiled at him reassuringly.

"I'm positive I can tell you anything," he said, squeezing Kurt's hands. "But it'll be alright. I promise."

As usual, Blaine was right. Within two weeks the nausea had disappeared and the color had returned to his cheeks.

Kurt never gave the incident another thought.

-o0o-

He comes home, yet again, to an empty house. It shouldn't surprise him anymore, but it still hurts. Kurt doesn't even know where they stand right now, Blaine and him, doesn't know whether they're still boyfriends, or even friends - whether they still cán be - but it doesn't mean he's not worried. Apparently though, Blaine doesn't even care enough about him anymore to let him know he's ok.

Kurt throws his keys in the bowl on the counter, pressing the button of the answering machine in passing as he walks up to the fridge.

* Hey Kurt, it's me - Gary. Say, are you home this afternoon? I'd like to pick up some stuff for Blaine, if that's alright. Blaine gave me the key so I can let myself in, but I wanted to check with you first so you don't think it was burglars or something. I'd be there around four, let me know if it doesn't work for you, ok? See ya. *

So he was staying at his brother's.

Somehow, it makes Kurt relax a bit more. He had feared Blaine would crash at David's, or worse, at Jeff's. They are good guys, they really are, but Kurt just knows that their way of comforting Blaine would entail a lot of going out and even more alcohol, and he's pretty sure that's not what Blaine needs.

He's equally sure he's not supposed to care about Blaine that much right now.

He looks at the clock -11.15- and decides to grab a quick, light lunch before the PEP kicks in and the mere thought of food will have him running to the bathroom. Afternoons were always the worst, and he wonders if he should call Gary to ask him to come the following morning before he decides not to: better to get this over with first. Besides, he has class tomorrow morning and he has missed enough of those this week already.

He wakes up a couple of hours later when the doorbell rings, shooting up and immediately regretting it - the room seems to be spinning around him and he closes his eyes, holding on to the couch to give him some sense of up and down, at least. By the time he feels secure enough to open his eyes again, he can hear the familiar click of a key turning, and the front door opening.

"Oh, Kurt, I'm sorry!" Gary looks genuinely embarrassed when he walks into the living room. "I called but... I, eh... ," he points back at the door he just came through. "I can come back later, if you prefer."

"No, no, it's ok," Kurt waves dismissively, although he still feels like everything around him is swirling. "Come in. I was just... I just fell asleep."

He can feel Gary look him up and down with concern in his eyes, and he wonders if the other man will notice the sweats and hoodie he's wearing are actually Blaine's. He probably does - he is gay, too, after all, and even if he doesn't share Kurt's exquisite taste in fashion, he still has a good eye for clothes.

"How are you?" Kurt asks, more out of politeness than out of concern, but after knowing Gary for almost two years, he shouldn't be surprised he gets more than he bargained for.

"Fine," Gary tells him, taking of his scarf and his jacket. "Which apparently can't be said of you. How's the PEP treating you?"

"It could be worse," Kurt shrugs, not surprised Gary seems to know the details of his current situation - Blaine and his brother had always been very close, "I'm nauseous 24/7 and I'm scared to be further than ten feet from a bathroom, but at least I'm not puking all over the place. Yet."

"You know you can ask to switch your meds if it's that bad, right?" Gary tells him, and Kurt shoots him an investigating look.

"Personal experience?"

"A friend. It worked for him."

Kurt flinches. He knows it's Gary's way to give him a thumbs up, a reminder that, most often, the PEP treatment is able to prevent the virus from taking over, but it only serves to make him remember that 'most often' doesn't equal 'always'.

"Are you here on your own?" Gary asks, looking around inquisitively. "Because you shouldn't be dealing with this all by yourself. I'd let you stay with us, but..."

"I told Mercedes. She brought me soup yesterday," Kurt interrupts him, vaguely pointing towards the kitchen. "She's busy with classes now but she'll be staying over this weekend. I told my parents too, though they can't really do anything, of course. My dad is furious, so tell Blaine that offer for life long free car check-ups has probably expired."

Gary nods, and Kurt can see that he's genuinely relieved to see Kurt is not, in fact, alone in this. He closes his hands around the glass of water he'd kept on the coffee table, trying to sound casual.

"So... he's staying with you guys?"

"Yeah, I told him to stay the week - give you some space," Gary nods, and it doesn't escape Kurt's attention how he's casually taking responsibility for Blaine's silence. "Benjamin and I are flying out to Ohio tomorrow to celebrate Easter with my parents anyway, so he can have the place to himself."

Kurt doesn't bother to ask why Blaine isn't going with them. Blaine's relationship with his parents has been strained for as long as Kurt can remember, and it has never ceased to amaze him how these people could be accepting and supporting parents towards Gary, but not Blaine. Now, he can't help but wonder if Blaine's positive HIV status has something to do with it.

"How is he doing?"

If Gary is surprised he asks -or even cares- he doesn't let it show.

"Let's say I'm pretty sure he'll have perfect marks this semester."

Kurt feels his chest tighten. Blaine's way of dealing with things usually involved him throwing himself in his work -school or otherwise-, and there is nothing Gary could've said that would have made it any clearer to Kurt that Blaine isn't doing well.

"Look, Kurt..." Gary starts, looking slightly uncomfortable, and somehow Kurt already knows what he's going to say. "I know it's probably not my place..."

"It probably isn't."

"... but I need you to know the reason Blaine didn't tell you isn't because he doesn't trust you. It's because he didn't want to lose you."

"Because lying to me is obviously going to make me want to stay around."

Kurt couldn't have kept the bitterness out of his voice even if he'd wanted to.

"He always intended to tell you. I promise you he did. But this... it hasn't been easy for him, Kurt. He has only ever told a couple of people and they all reacted pretty badly. I know it's hard for you right now and I know you probably don't want to see him anymore, but... you have your parents, and your friends, to be there for you. Blaine never had that, he went through it all by himself. I know it sounds like I'm making excuses for him but he had his reasons. It would mean a lot if you would give him a chance to explain, at least."

Kurt doesn't reply and Gary looks like he's going to say something more, but refrains.

"I'm just... going to get his things."

It doesn't take him long - he obviously knows what he's looking for, and Blaine has always been very organized. On his way out, he quickly pokes his head around the corner to say goodbye.

"See you around, Kurt," he waves, throwing the duffle bag over his shoulder. "I really hope the PEP's gonna work for you."

He's already halfway down the hall towards the front door when Kurt runs after him.

"Gary! Wait!"

There's a confused look on Gary's face, but he stops nevertheless, his hand on the doorknob, waiting for Kurt to say something.

"Leave the bag," Kurt says, and he's pretty sure he'll regret doing this as soon as Gary is out the door, but he knows he'll regret it even more if he doesn't. "Tell him... tell him if he wants his stuff, he has to come get it himself."

There's a tiny smile that appears around Gary's lips as he slowly lowers the bag on the floor. They stand there for a moment, simply looking at each other, before Gary finally turns the knob to let himself out. Kurt watches him as he goes, turning around at the door to look at Kurt.

"Thank you," he says. "On behalf of Blaine."

Kurt just nods, willing him to go before he changes his mind. After the door clicks shut, he lets himself drop on the floor. All he can do now, is wait.