CHAPTER 24

“When?”  Kurt felt like he couldn't breathe.  How much time did he have?  How long could he stall, how long could he hold off whatever came next?  How much farther down into Hell was he going to fall?

“I took the liberty of making an appointment for you this afternoon with a colleague of mine.  Her name is Lynn Miles.  She's one of the best in the field, and very respected.  Your appointment is at four o'clock.  I'll walk you over, but I need to send your test results now, so she can review them before the appointment.  You can, of course, see someone else, but you shouldn't wait.  If you won't see Lynn, you need to find someone else as soon as possible.  I can give you other names if you want.”

Kurt looked desperately to Blaine.  Blaine tried to give Kurt a reassuring look, trying to hide his panic, and silently pleading with him to please, please go to this appointment.  He squeezed Kurt's hand even tighter, then eased his grip a little, remembering suddenly how easily Kurt bruised now.  Kurt responded by tightening his grip on Blaine's hand.  Without letting go, he turned to Daniel, drew in a deep, shuddering breath, and said in a small voice, “Okay, I'll go.”

Daniel stepped out of the office, directing Margaret to send Kurt's results to Dr. Miles' office immediately, then returned to his place behind his desk.

Blaine slowly released a breath he didn't know he was holding.  Kurt wasn't running.  As long as Kurt wasn't running away, wasn't denying the problem, they could deal with it, would deal with it, together.  “What are the treatments?  What should we expect for . . . “ his voice trailed off.  How do you ask if you are going to lose your husband, if he is going to die?  “For an . . . outcome?”

Daniel responded carefully, “I'm an internist.  You're asking me questions that Lynn will be better able to answer.  First of all, as I said, additional testing will have to be done to confirm whether or not Kurt has leukemia.  If you do, Kurt, the treatments and prognosis are still dependent on a lot of different things.  Leukemia can be either acute or chronic, and there are different forms.  Both the treatment options and the outcome depend on which form of leukemia you have, whether it's acute or chronic, and on other factors such as your age, health, and how well you tolerate certain treatments.”  Daniel continued to talk, and Blaine and Kurt responded, but neither of them remembered the rest of the conversation.  Eventually, Daniel told them it was time to go to the appointment with the oncologist, and he ushered them out of the office via a back door and walked them to her office.

Once they arrived, Daniel introduced them to Dr. Miles.  They all went back to her office, and she went over many of the same questions about how Kurt had been feeling, his various symptoms and their duration, that Daniel had a few days before.  Unlike Tuesday's questioning, however, Kurt quietly answered most of the questions himself, although he seemed to be somewhat in shock.  Blaine chimed in periodically to mention something relevant he had noticed, or something Kurt seemed to have forgotten.  Daniel spoke up to tell her the things he had noted during his exam when they were relevant to her questioning. 

Finally, she stood, and asked Kurt to follow her to an exam room.  Once at the door, she repeated the now familiar instructions to disrobe and don a gown.  A few minutes later, she knocked, then entered once Kurt told her he was ready.  She conducted an exam similar to the one Daniel had done, minus the last, most humiliating part, asking many of the same questions Daniel had.  Kurt answered her in subdued tones, arguing less than he had with Daniel, and following her instructions silently.  Eventually she was done, and told Kurt to get dressed and meet her in the office where they had left Blaine and Daniel. 

Once they had both returned to the office, Dr. Miles began to speak, “Kurt, both your blood tests and physical exam are consistent with leukemia, as are most of your symptoms.  We will need to do a bone marrow biopsy and aspiration to confirm the diagnosis, however.”

In a small voice, Kurt asked, “When?”  Blaine glanced away from the doctor's face and toward Kurt, somewhat amazed that Kurt was actually participating, and that he wasn't the one that was having to ask all the questions.

“As soon as possible.  I can do it tomorrow morning, or early next week, but, as I said, the sooner the better.  If you do have leukemia, the sooner we can start treatment, the better your prognosis is likely to be.”

“Tomorrow,” Kurt said definitively, “let's get this over with as soon as possible.”

“Okay.  I'll put you on the schedule for tomorrow morning.  My nurse will give you instructions for when to be here at the medical center.  You really don't have to do much preparation.  Do you want to be sedated or have something to relax?  It's not necessary, but it does make the procedure less unpleasant.  You will, however, need to make sure someone is with you if you take either of those options,” Dr. Miles said.

“Will I be able to go to work tomorrow?”  Kurt inquired.

“Yes, but you may not want to,” Dr. Miles replied, “I'll give you a local anesthetic to make you more comfortable, but it's still not going to be an entirely pain-free procedure.  You'll probably be sore for a day or two.”

Kurt paled even more than normal, which Blaine would not have believed possible.  “How much pain?”  He whispered.

“Some,” she answered, “it's not unbearable.  Lots of people do it without any sedation or medication other than the local, but a lot of people do prefer to have some sort of sedation or medication to help them relax.  It still won't completely eliminate the pain, but you'll remember less of it.”

Kurt squared his shoulders.  He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then let it out and said, “I really need to go to work.  I'm preparing for several major shows that are coming up, and between seeing Daniel a couple of days ago and today, I've missed a lot of work.  I'll do it with just the local.”

Startled, Blaine stared at Kurt for a moment before asking, “Baby, are you sure?  You don't have to do this.”

Giving him a withering look, Kurt said, “I don't have to do what?  The biopsy?  The consensus seems to be that I do.  And I know I've got too much work to do to take an entire day off, so doing it without additional drugs seems to be the option left open to me.”

Cutting in, Dr. Miles interrupted, “I'll tell you what.  We'll have some ready for you, in case you change your mind.  We'll ask in the morning.  You can feel free to do whatever feels right to you then.”

Blaine asked, “What is the treatment, and what are we talking about in terms of outcomes?”

“Well,” Dr. Miles answered, “the first step is to confirm whether or not Kurt actually does have leukemia.  If it is leukemia, the next is to determine the type.  That will determine both where we go from there as far as treatment goes, and what the prognosis is.  Let's figure out exactly what we're dealing with and then we'll go from there.”

After that, she said goodbye, telling Kurt she would see him in the morning.  The nurse gave him instructions and told him what time to be there in the morning.  They then left the office with Daniel, who tried unsuccessfully to diminish their worries by talking about how good Dr. Miles was.  Finally, he told them that he would keep in touch with both the two of them and with Dr. Miles, and that they could call him anytime if they had any questions, then bid them goodbye.

They didn't speak as they prepared to leave.  As they stepped into the elevator, Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt, pulling him against his own body.  Once they were in the car, he reached for Kurt's hand.  Forgetting about their plans for making dinner, they stopped to eat on the way home at a tiny Greek restaurant, and as soon as they left the car, Blaine grabbed Kurt's arm and pulled him towards himself, nearly pulling Kurt off balance.  Kurt had had enough.  “Blaine, I'm not going to disappear in a puff of smoke if you let go of me for a second.  It's going to be okay.  I love you.  I love it when you touch me, I love touching you, but I do need a little bit of personal space.  Okay?”

“Okay.  It's just – I just . . .”

“I know.  It's a lot, and we're both still processing it.  But when we get inside, you are sitting across the table from me.  Not right next to me.  And if you touch me, it better be to play footsie.  And if you do that, you'd better be prepared to carry through with whatever it inspires when we get home.  No teasing.  Got it?”

“Got it,” Blaine responded weakly, a small smile playing on his lips for the first time since Daniel had called early that afternoon.

Once inside the restaurant, they were seated at a small table, Blaine across from Kurt as instructed.   They gave their waiter their order, then waited in strained silence until the appetizer, a trio of Mediterranean dips with fresh warm pita, arrived.  Kurt had even less appetite than usual, but he was trying to eat so that Blaine wouldn't worry.  “We should call the kids, they should know,” Blaine said quietly.

Kurt's head shot up and he looked directly into Blaine's eyes.  “No!  Absolutely not!  We do not worry them until there's something to worry about.”

“You don't think this is something to worry about?  Really?”  Blaine shot back.

“We don't know what this is.  Daniel and Dr. Miles have their suspicions, but nothing's been confirmed yet.  And until it is, we proceed as if everything is normal.  Do you hear me?  We do not tell the kids.  And we do not tell anyone else, either.  Not Carole, not your mom, not Finn and Quinn, not Adam and Evan, not Santana and Brittany, not Mercedes and Sam, no one.  I mean it.  Do you hear me?  No one at all,” Kurt insisted.

Blaine had to make one last attempt.  “Do you think that's a good idea?  I guess the boys will understand.  Especially Patrick.  For having my genetic material he is so much your child.  Remember the time he broke his leg playing lacrosse and insisted that we not be called until the break was confirmed and they needed our permission to set it?”  Kurt smiled at the memory.  “And I guess Ian will understand, or at least he'll get over it pretty quick.  But Ellie?  When she finds out we didn't tell her right away, leukemia will be the least of our worries.  She's going to kill us.”

“We all survived her wedding last year,” Kurt responded dryly, “We'll survive her wrath this time.”

“There are people still in therapy because of that wedding.”

“Yeah, but we aren't some of those people,” Kurt pointed out.

Blaine gave in. “Fine.  But the second we know what this is,” he couldn't bring himself to say the second the leukemia is confirmed, “We tell them.  No more delays, no more stalling.  I will tell them whether you give me permission or not.”

“Deal.”  Kurt agreed.  He glanced down at the table and realized Blaine had yet to touch the dips, and the pita he had taken had been reduced to a pile of tiny pieces and crumbs on the plate in front of him.  “You're eating even less than I am.  Eat.  You know it won't do either of us any good if we're both sick, and you don't function well without food.  What am I saying?  You don't function at all without food.”

Blaine looked down at his hands, suddenly stilled in the middle of the process of shredding another piece of pita.  “I'm sorry.  I can't,” he said, sounding suddenly lost and broken.  He needed to talk to someone, but couldn't bring himself to tell Kurt all the things he was scared of, because he didn't want to, couldn't afford to, scare Kurt any more than he already was.  And Kurt forbade discussing it with anyone else.

Kurt reached across the table and took his hand, “Hey, Sweetheart, look at me, we'll be okay.”  Blaine looked into his eyes and wished he could believe him, but he had a bad feeling that, as much as Kurt wanted to believe it, he was wrong.  When the waiter came with their entrees, Kurt told him to leave the appetizers, which he knew Blaine liked more than the main course.  Through coaxing, feeding him, and trading a bite for a bite (“I'll eat one if you do”), much as they had done with the children when they were little, Kurt got Blaine to eat a reasonable amount of the meal.  Blaine didn't taste any of it.

They finally went home, heading to bed early.  Blaine, remembering what Kurt had said, lay uncomfortably on his own side of the bed.  Neither of them slept well alone anymore, and morning tended to find them in each other's arms, legs tangled together like an old-fashioned nail puzzle, or spooned together, each a perfect fit to the other's body and in the other's arms.  It didn't last long.  Kurt told himself he was just taking pity on Blaine, since he looked so alone on the other side of the bed, but the truth was that he needed the contact just as much as Blaine did.  He rolled towards his husband and took him into his arms, holding him all night, although they didn't speak much, and neither was able to sleep.

* * *

Morning found them dressing tensely, Kurt attempting to find something that he was willing to wear to work that was “loose and easy to slip out of” as instructed.  He finally settled on a tailored designer suit that fit the description only because he had lost so much weight.  He made a mental note to have it altered next week.  Kurt didn't eat, not because he had any intention of taking advantage of the offer of medication to relax or sedate him, but because he was too nervous.  Blaine was worried:  about the test, about the results, about Kurt in general.  The doctor had said the test could be painful; Kurt did not handle pain well, and Blaine told himself he'd feel better if Kurt agreed to the medication.  Broaching the subject, however, only earned him Kurt's bitch glare, so he fell into silence as they made their way down to the car.

Once at Dr. Miles office, they were greeted by a nurse.  She instructed Blaine to wait in the outer office.   As Kurt followed her deeper into the office, she asked him if he still wanted to proceed with only the local anesthetic, and he told her he did.  She led him into a procedure room, similar to an exam room, but larger and with more equipment, and told him to undress and put on a gown, then lie down on his side on the table in the room.  Kurt did as he was told, lying down facing the door and with his back to a tray of instruments and tubes that he didn't even want to think about.  After several minutes, during which he had entirely too much time to think about exactly what was about to happen and what it might mean, Dr. Miles came in.

“Hi, how are you doing this morning?”  She greeted him.

“Just peachy,” Kurt replied somewhat sarcastically.

“Still haven't changed your mind about the meds, I see.  This is your last chance before we get started.  Are you sure you don't want to have a sedative or something to relax you?”

“I'm sure,” Kurt answered, sounding a lot more certain than he felt.

“Okay.  Well, let's get started,” she said, moving around behind Kurt.  Two nurses, the one from before and another, had come into the room as well.  The one from earlier went to stand with Dr. Miles.  The other introduced herself as Susan, and told Kurt to just hold on to her and squeeze her hands if he needed to, but to stay still.  Apparently, her job was mostly to keep him calm and make sure he didn't move.  She positioned his upper leg with the knee bent toward his chest.  “I'm going to talk you through what we're doing as we do it.”

“I don't really want to know,” Kurt protested.

“I need you to be still, so you're going to need to be prepared for what you're going to feel.  First, we're going to clean the area where we'll be working.  It's going to feel cold,” Dr. Miles continued.  Kurt felt the gown being opened in back, and the bottom of the gown was laid over his upper hip.  He could feel the blush spreading over his face and body, and wished he was anywhere else.  Then he felt something cold and wet, and goose bumps joined the blush.  “Next is a drape.  There's a little bit of adhesive on it to keep it in place, so it'll feel a little sticky.”  Kurt felt the drape, and was glad for the coverage, even if it did leave a large section of his bottom exposed.  “Now you're going to feel a little bit of a bee sting.  That's the local.  Then we'll give it a few minutes to work.”  Kurt had never been stung by a bee, and he didn't want to if that's what it felt like.  A few minutes later, Dr. Miles said, “I'm going to see if you're numb yet.  Let me know if you feel this.”

“Yes, I feel that!”  Kurt exclaimed upon feeling a something sharp poke him on one buttock.

“Okay, we're going to give you a bit more.”  Kurt felt another “bee sting,” although not as bad as the first one.  After a little while, Dr. Miles asked him if he could feel her poking him, and he answered that he could not.  “Good.  Now we're going to give you more, to numb you deeper.”  Kurt felt pressure and it was uncomfortable, but not terribly painful.  “I gave you more than normal, and I'm going to wait a little longer than usual, since it seems pretty hard to get you numb.”  This wasn't news to Kurt.  As if he needed any additional reasons for excellent oral hygiene, the few times he'd had to have anesthetic at the dentist had gone much like this:  it took more anesthetic than it did for most people to get him numb, and took longer than it should, facts no dentist ever seemed to remember. 

Several minutes later, she told Kurt, “We're about to get started.  You're going to feel a lot of pressure.”  Kurt felt a great deal of pressure, like something was attempting to press all the way through him, that lasted several seconds.  “Now we're going to take the first sample.  You might feel some pain.  It won't last long.”  Before she finished speaking, Kurt felt a pulling sensation and a sharp pain.  Shit, that hurt, he thought.  He squeezed his eyes shut and held onto Susan's hands for dear life.  A few seconds later, the pain ebbed.  “Almost done.  We're going to take the last sample now.  You're going to feel a lot of pressure and it may hurt a little bit.”  He felt the pressure again, and then, an aching feeling.  It felt a little like the time he had fallen during a rehearsal in high school and gotten a bad bruise on his hip.  After about a minute, the ache subsided, and he heard Dr. Miles say, “All done.  We're going to put pressure on the site for a few minutes and then apply a dressing.  You can take the bandage off about this time tomorrow.”  Thanks to the local, Kurt really couldn't feel her doing any of this.  Finally she said, “Okay, we're going to leave you alone so you can get dressed.”  Dr. Miles and the nurses left the room, and Kurt sat up slowly and slid off the table to dress.

Once dressed, he left the procedure room.  Susan was waiting for him.  As she walked with him toward the outer office, she told him he would probably be sore for a few days, and then told him what to watch out for, and what warranted a call to Dr. Miles.  Finally, she told him Dr. Miles would have his results on Monday, and handed him a card with an appointment time set for Monday morning.  As he walked through the door, Blaine, looking very worried, jumped up and ran to him.  He had spent the time thumbing through every magazine in the room, not reading any of them.  “Are you okay?  Do you need to go home?”

“Yes, I'm fine, just a little sore.  They said I would be for a couple of days.  No, I don't need to go home.  I need to go to work.  You didn't need to wait.  I could have made it to work on my own.”

“First, I would never leave you during this.  If they had let me, I would have been in there with you.  Second, where would I go?  Broadway isn't known for attracting morning people.  I'm not sure Adam even has a pulse at this hour.”  Kurt smiled.

Blaine desperately wanted to take Kurt into his arms, but was afraid to touch him; he didn't want to hurt him.  He kept reaching toward him but then dropping his hands.  Kurt sighed.  “Blaine, I'm not going to break.  Right now, I'm still kind of numb, so I won't feel as much.  However, if you start with the nonstop touching again I swear I'm going to scream.  I'd say I'd slap you, but you know I won't.  The screaming, however, is not an idle threat.”  Blaine grinned at that, then reached out and took Kurt's hand.

Kurt filled Blaine in on the timing of the results and the next appointment as they got in the car for the trip to Kurt's office.  Blaine went up with him and stayed near him for the next hour, as Kurt tried to work without tripping over him.  Finally, Kurt told Blaine to send the car for him that evening and to leave, as he was both distracting and in the way.  Kurt was relieved when Blaine left.  The local was wearing off, and he was quite sore, but didn't want Blaine to know.  The nurse had told him this was normal, and there wasn't anything Blaine would be able to do about it, but he would worry.  He spent the rest of the day trying to ignore the aching and get work done, while trying to figure out how he could move or sit that would minimize the discomfort.

* * *

­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­Blaine spent most of the morning until Adam and Paul arrived going over Adam's notes regarding the minor parts, most of which had to do with the candidates' dancing abilities, or lack thereof.  He added his own notes and then went over both together and made a list of probable callbacks.  He would review them with Adam once he came in, then give the list to Paul.  He then made notes for his scheduled meetings with the set and costume designers. 

Once Adam arrived he said, “Okay, Blaine, I was expecting a call last night and I didn't get one.  What's going on?  Spill it.”

Blaine sighed, “We really don't know anything for sure yet, and I promised Kurt I wouldn't talk to anyone about it until we know what's actually going on.  I'll tell you as soon as I can, but it looks like it'll be next week sometime.  That's all I can say without bringing Kurt's wrath down on my head.”

Adam's bitch glare was almost as good as Kurt's.  Almost.  Having lived with Kurt's, however, for over thirty-five years, Blaine was pretty immune to anyone's other that Kurt's and Ellie's.  When the glare failed, Adam pulled out his phone and, looking at Blaine defiantly, selected a number.  “Hey, Kurt.  It's Adam.  What the Hell's going on?  Blaine won't tell me anything.”  There was a pause.  “What do you mean there's nothing to tell?  There's definitely something to tell.”  Another pause.  “Why are you shutting me out?”  Pause.  “You're really not going to tell me, are you?”  Pause.  “Fine.  You know I'm going to find out eventually.  I'll make it my mission.  Now at least I know what I'm doing this weekend.”  With a huff, he returned to his chair next to Blaine.

“Are you ready to actually work now?”  Blaine questioned.  Adam glared, but then settled in to go over the callback list.

The rest of the day passed in the usual whirlwind of meetings associated with a new show, and Blaine focused on his work.  Doing so made him feel better, and he was able to lose himself in it for a while and the fear retreated to the back of his mind.

* * *

As evening fell, Blaine called for the car.  He had Carolyn stop at his favorite farmer's market, where he picked up salad ingredients, something for dessert, as well as tomatoes, garlic, fresh basil and creamy goat's cheese.  They then stopped at his favorite Italian market for fresh pasta and a loaf of bread from their bakery.  Finally, they made their way to Kurt's office. 

Blaine found Kurt sitting behind his desk.  As Blaine came in, Kurt smiled, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Holding out on Adam.”

“I can deal with Adam being mad at me.  You're a bit tougher.  I wish none of this was happening, but we'll deal with it together.  Right now I just want to do what's best for you.  I'm not sure that this, this closing everyone out, is what you need, but if you say it is, I'll go with it for now.”  Blaine bent down and kissed Kurt's temple.  “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah.  I just keep debating what I'm going to do at the shows.  I have about four different plans, and they're all done, but I keep going back and forth about which one I'm actually going to go with.”  Kurt answered.

“Well, take everything you might want to work on home.  I know better than to try to keep you from working all weekend, but I do want you to stay home.  No going in to work for either of us.  We're going to sleep in, get takeout, lie on the couch and watch movies, go to bed early.”  Blaine informed Kurt.

“Blaine, I know I've been tired, but that sounds like an awful lot of rest, even for me right now.”  Kurt said.

“I didn't say we were necessarily going to sleep a lot.  Don't you remember our lazy weekends years ago, in college, and then when we first got married?”  Blaine inquired, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

Kurt smiled at the memory.  “Oh, so that's why you want to stay in.  It has nothing to do with being tired or what's going on.  I'm all for it.”  And with that, he proceeded to scoop the papers he had been studying into a stack which he dumped unceremoniously into his messenger bag.  He had finally managed to find a comfortable position, and had stayed in it for quite some time.  As he stood up quickly, he realized not moving might not have been the best idea.  An expression of pain crossed his face, and he wasn't quick enough to hide it from Blaine.

“Baby, are you okay?  You're not.  How bad does it hurt?”  Blaine peppered him with questions, answering some of them for himself, as he reached for Kurt to help him stand.

“I'm fine.  They said I'd be sore for a few days, and that's all it is.  I'm just sore.  It feels a little bit like a bad bruise.  It's just that I found a position that made it a little better, and so I didn't move for a while.  I guess the not moving added stiff to sore and it's not a great combination.”  Kurt explained, hoping Blaine would accept it and calm down.  It truly wasn't anything more than they'd told him to expect.

“I think we should call the doctor.”  Okay, so he hadn't calmed down yet.

“My turn.  I'm putting my foot down.  You've been running this show all week, and I've put up with it, but I know what they told me.  This isn't unexpected.  I tried taking some Motrin earlier and it really didn't make much of a difference.  We are not going to call the doctor to report feeling the way she told me I'd feel.  It's really not too bad.  I'm moving carefully and I'm not going to win any races for the next couple of days, but I'm fine,” Kurt insisted.

Blaine put his arm around Kurt and took his messenger bag from him.  “Okay.  We won't call, as long as it doesn't get worse.  If it gets worse, I'm back in the driver's seat.”  He was clearly still not happy about the situation, but was giving in for the moment. 

The two headed to the car, Kurt moving stiffly and Blaine supporting him.  Once in the car, Blaine reached out to brush Kurt's cheek, and Kurt leaned into his touch slightly, turning his head to kiss Blaine's palm.  Blaine realized that although Kurt still seemed very tired, despite last night's lack of sleep and what he knew had to have been a rough morning, he seemed a bit less exhausted than he had earlier in the week, and his face was cool.  “I think your fever's gone.  That's good.”

“I think you're right.  Can we just go with that and not check?  Daniel wasn't worried about the fever itself, and didn't want me to do anything about it, so we don't need to know for sure.  I feel better though.”  Kurt knew that while his fever was down right now, and he felt okay, both might be due to the Motrin he'd taken earlier, but he didn't want to say that.  He'd taken it to ease the achiness, which it hadn't done, but it did seem to reduce the fever and make him feel better.  He thought to himself that he should take some more if he could do it without Blaine knowing. 

“Sure.”  Despite his worry over Kurt's pain and the test results, it made Blaine feel better to know the fever was down and Kurt felt better.  “Remember how I was going to cook yesterday but we ended up going out?  Well tonight, my love, I am making you dinner.”

Kurt started to open his mouth but Blaine interrupted, “And no, it's not PB and J.  Or any other kind of sandwich.”

                Kurt laughed.  “When do I get to find out what I'm eating?”

                “When it appears on the table in front of you, Darling.”

                “Hints?”

                “Nope,” Blaine said smugly.  Kurt ran his hand up Blaine's thigh.  Blaine groaned.  “That's not fair.”

                “I never claimed to play fair,”   Kurt replied.

                Blaine, however, couldn't be moved, at least not by anything Kurt was willing to do in the car with Carolyn in the front seat.

* * *

By the time they arrived home, the earlier movement had eased Kurt's stiffness somewhat, and while he was still sore, he was moving a bit easier.  They made their way to the apartment, and Blaine instructed Kurt to go find a movie and set it up, while he disappeared into the kitchen with the groceries.  A few minutes later, Kurt peeked into the kitchen to see Blaine chopping tomatoes, basil and garlic next to a serving bowl that already contained crumbled goat cheese, salt, pepper and olive oil, while a pot of water heated on the stove.

                “Need help?”  Kurt asked.

                “No.  Get out of the kitchen.  This is supposed to be a surprise,” Blaine scolded.

                “Too late.  You know, it is possible to chop things uniformly so that everything is the same size,” Kurt chided.

                “It's rustic.  Go away.”  Blaine shooed Kurt out of the room.

                Ten minutes later Blaine called Kurt into the breakfast room.  Everything had gone into the serving bowl, along with the hot pasta, creating a creamy sauce spiked with garlic, tomatoes and basil.  He placed the serving bowl on the table, next to a bowl of salad and a loaf of hot bread.  Kurt stopped in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe, and just breathed in the heavenly aroma.  “I love this.  I love you,” he said.

                “You just love me for my cooking skills,” Blaine shot back, eliciting a snort from Kurt.

                “Right.  You mean your cooking skill, singular?”  Clearly Kurt was feeling better, if he was up to his usual sarcastic commentary.

“I have many skills,” Blaine said, pretending to be hurt.

“Oh, I know you do, Love,” Kurt answered, advancing into the room and running his hand down Blaine's chest, over his shirt, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from Blaine.  “Just not in the kitchen.”

“Since when do we limit ourselves based on what room we're in?”  Blaine asked, voice low and husky.

“Hmmmm.  I'll have to give that some thought during dinner,” Kurt said.  He liked the way this evening was going much better than their last dinner at home.  And while he hadn't been hungry all day, smelling the pasta had caused his mouth to water, and he found himself actually hungry for the first time since, well, since he wasn't even sure when.  He took his seat across from Blaine, and found himself torn between reaching to touch Blaine and eating.  He settled on slipping his feet from his shoes and using them to torture Blaine under the table, which left his hands free to eat.  The best of both worlds.

Kurt ate only a few bites of salad and a little bread, neither of which really tempted him.  Blaine kept shooting him worried glances, until he started eating the pasta.  Blaine had made this pasta because he knew Kurt loved it, and this time was no exception.  While the amount of pasta Kurt ate was small compared to what Blaine ate, he ate enough to cause Blaine to stare in wonder and delight until Kurt noticed the attention and said, “What?  Do I have food on my face?”

Blaine laughed and said, “No.  I just love you.   I'm so glad you're eating.”

Kurt felt a little guilty about how worried Blaine had been, but tried to keep the mood light.  “Well, when presented with something this good, of course I'm eating.  Apparently tonight I have a bit of an appetite.”  He stared into Blaine's eyes meaningfully, causing Blaine to shiver a little with anticipation.  Well, the stare and the effect of Kurt's toes on his legs.

They finished the rest of the meal chatting lightly about safe topics, staying away from anything health related.  The test results and Kurt's health hung over them, and they didn't talk about the future beyond the weekend.  There was too much uncertainty, too much they didn't know, too much to fear.  So they talked about the weekend, about work, and about friends.  Anything safe.

As they finished eating, Blaine once again sent Kurt out.  “I'll get the kitchen cleaned up.  Go change into something comfortable.  I'll change in a minute.  Then we can watch the movie.  What is it, by the way?”

“Not telling,” Kurt laughed.  Okay, Blaine guessed he deserved that.  He smiled.  He cleaned the kitchen quickly, then headed toward the bedroom to change, pausing to give Kurt a slow kiss on the lips on the way. 

Once both men were in sweats and comfy old long-sleeved tee shirts, they settled in to watch the movie, safe in each other's arms.  Kurt grabbed the remote, and soon they were watching Billy Crystal and Meg Ryan drive to New York.  Kurt had considered Titanic, but given the ending, and everything going on in their life right now, he decided something a bit lighter was in order.  After about half an hour, Blaine nudged Kurt into a sitting position, then paused the movie and got up.

“Where are you going?”

“To get dessert.  You'll like it.  It's a surprise,” Blaine headed for the kitchen.

Kurt called after him, “Really, Sweetheart, I love you, but I ate so much at dinner.  I'm not hungry and I don't think I can handle eating anything else.”

Blaine answered, “It's light, and you'll like what I have planned.”  Something about his voice told Kurt that dessert wasn't just about food tonight, which made it sound a lot more interesting.

Soon, Blaine returned with two good-sized bowls, which he placed on the table behind him as he settled back into his spot behind Kurt, stretching out so that Kurt was settled between his legs, back against his chest.  He turned the movie back on, then wrapped his arms around Kurt's waist.  Kurt sighed contentedly as he settled back into Blaine, placing his hands over Blaine's.  “Dessert?”  He inquired.

“In due time,” Blaine replied, “for now, just relax and watch the movie.”  They watched Harry and Sally's relationship unfold for a few more minutes, just savoring the familiar story and even more familiar feel of the other's body relaxed against their own, before Blaine reached behind him and plucked a ripe strawberry from one bowl, dipping it in fresh whipped cream from the other.  He brought it to Kurt's mouth and whispered in a low voice, “Eat, my Love.”

Kurt bit the berry away from the cap, groaning at both the sweet, juicy flavor of the fruit and the romantic way it was fed to him.  After swallowing, he turned his face up to Blaine's, stretching a little so he could kiss Blaine without shifting too much from his current position.  In a low voice, he said, “You were right.  I think I'm really going to like this dessert.”

Blaine continued to feed Kurt berries every few minutes, eating some himself in between.  Kurt made no more protests about lack of appetite.  After several strawberries made their way unerringly into Kurt's mouth, Blaine “missed,” leaving tiny dollops of whipped cream on Kurt's nose and chin.  “I'm so sorry, Baby, let me clean you up,” he said, leaning down to lick and kiss away the offending cream.  Kurt rolled over in his arms and pulled himself up Blaine's body, taking Blaine's lips in a deep kiss.  “God, I've missed you.  I've missed this, so much,” Blaine breathed against his mouth.

The movie continued to play in the background, but neither noticed it, nor did they notice when it ended.  They spent the rest of the evening relearning each other's bodies, how they'd each changed without the other noticing:  Kurt had become so much thinner, more fragile feeling to Blaine; Blaine seemed to Kurt to have aged, deep worry lines appearing where none had been before.  They made love slowly, gently, carefully; it took trial and error to find a position that didn't cause Kurt's hip and buttock to hurt worse, but he wanted this, and he almost grew annoyed with Blaine treating him as if he was going to break, but he knew the care was born of Blaine's love for him.  Afterwards, they looked up to see the menu screen, then looked at each other and laughed.

Blaine picked Kurt up and carried him to bed.  He got a washcloth and cleaned any trace of their lovemaking from both their bodies, then kissed Kurt deeply and told him to sleep.  “I still have to moisturize and –“ Kurt protested.

“Shhh,” Blaine shushed him with a kiss.  “Not tonight.  I'm going to clean up the living room and then come right to bed.  I expect to find you here waiting for me when I get back.”  Blaine then left Kurt in bed.  He took the bowls to the kitchen, eating the last few strawberries on the way, then rinsing the bowls and putting them in the dishwasher and setting it.  Back in the living room, he turned off the television and gathered up the clothes scattered around the room.  Taking the clothes back to the hamper in the closet, he decided against pajamas.  Kurt was already in bed, naked, and it had been a while since they had slept together naked.  Too long, he thought.  Soon, he was in bed, taking a drowsy Kurt into his arms, nuzzling his hair, and vowing to himself to do this more often, to not let opportunities like this one, this evening, slip away again, and thinking sadly about how many nights like this they had lost to work or other distractions.  Suddenly, this was very, very important.  Missing something like this once in a while had never been that big of a deal, because the future chances were endless; now, a deep ache in his chest told him they might be much more limited than they had ever imagined.  Pushing his dark thoughts away with effort before his tears could begin to flow, he held Kurt tighter, living in that moment, reveling in his husband's scent filling his nose, the feel of his body curled against his own.  He fell asleep holding the only thing, the only person, he had ever needed to be happy, fulfilled, alive.

* * *

Kurt awoke the next morning, correction, afternoon, smiling, remembering the night before.  Remembering creamy, garlicky pasta, strawberries and cream, and sweet, tender lovemaking.  Feeling Blaine's body against his in the bed, still naked.  This was real, he thought.  Maybe the previous week had just been a nightmare, the product of too much work, too little sleep, and not enough time together.  He stretched, and the pain in his hip told him otherwise immediately.  Wincing, he thought, okay, not a nightmare. 

“Hey, sleepyhead.  Ready to wake up?”  Blaine asked.

Kurt made an effort to not let Blaine see the pain he felt.  “Yeah.  How long have you been awake?”

“A while.  I was just enjoying holding you, watching you sleep, the little faces you make, and the noises.”  Blaine smiled at him.

“Stalker,” Kurt shot back, “And I do NOT make noises in my sleep!”

“Hah.  You do too.  Are you ready to shower, or would you prefer a bath?”

Pretending to pout, Kurt growled playfully, “Are you suggesting I stink?”

“Never,” came the loving reply, “But I do know you all too well, and I'm amazed you didn't get up in the middle of the night to shower.  Now which will it be?”

“Shower,” Kurt answered.

Blaine rolled off the bed and headed to the bathroom to start the shower, then returned to the bedroom to find Kurt rising slowly and stiffly from the bed.  “Let me help you,” he said, putting one arm around Kurt's waist and grabbing one of Kurt's hands with his free hand.

“I can do it myself,” grumbled Kurt testily, but he accepted the help.  Once in the bathroom, Blaine followed him into the shower.  “Planning to continue last night?” he asked.

“Mmm.  Tempting, but no.  I was, however, planning on making sure you didn't fall.  You don't seem too steady today,” Blaine answered.  He had noticed that Kurt seemed a little warm again as well, but didn't want to start an argument about whether he had a fever.

It wasn't the reply Kurt wanted.  “I'm fine, just sore.  I can do it myself.”

“Well, I want to bathe you, so humor me,” Blaine said.  He grabbed Kurt's shampoo and washed his hair, then reached for Kurt's favorite shower gel and lathered a loofah.  He lathered Kurt's body slowly and carefully, the experience, as it always did when they shared a shower, turning more romantic than planned.  He paused when he reached the bandage.  “When can this come off?”  He asked.

“They said this morning, so I guess now.”

“Do you want me to take it off?”  Blaine inquired.

“Yeah.”  Kurt braced himself, waiting for the pain.  The hot water, however, had loosened the adhesive, so it pulled off much more easily than he expected.  What he was not anticipating was the choked gasp he heard from Blaine, who was staring at the dark bruise left over from the procedure.  “What's wrong?” he asked.

“It just, um, it's just bruised.  I guess I wasn't expecting it.”  Blaine answered him, fighting back tears.  He didn't know why he was surprised, or why it hit him so hard, but it did.  It also effectively killed the mood, so he hurriedly bathed himself and then turned off the water, reaching for a towel and drying Kurt before he dried himself to protect Kurt from getting chilled.  He needed to escape for a moment, so he told Kurt to finish getting ready while he made brunch.  He quickly brushed his teeth and threw on sweats before retreating to the kitchen.  He knew Kurt's moisturizing ritual would buy him about forty-five minutes to calm down and breathe.

In the kitchen, he leaned against the wall and took deep breaths until he no longer felt the urge to break down and cry.  Once calmed, he pulled spinach, mushrooms, eggs and goat cheese from the refrigerator and began preparing an omelet, pouring juice and preparing bowls of mixed berries for the side.  He was just placing the meal on the table when Kurt came into the room.  Taking a deep breath, and bracing for a hostile response, he asked, “Baby, really, how are you feeling today?”

Resisting the urge to snap something sarcastic at him, Kurt sighed, “Okay.  Last night may be proving that my stamina's down a little, because I'm a bit tired today, and sore like the doctor said I would be.  My hip feels like Swiss cheese.”

“Why don't you eat and then try to take a nap?”  Blaine suggested.

“Because I'm not a newborn and I've only been up about an hour.  I need to get some work done.”  Kurt lost the battle against sarcasm, but tried to temper it with at least a little reason.  He sat down at the table and sighed.  “I'm sorry.  I shouldn't have snapped.  But I'll be okay.  You don't need to baby me constantly.”

“I'll try not to baby you as long as it seems like you're making an effort to take care of yourself.  Deal?”  Blaine offered.

“Deal.”  Kurt responded, beginning to toy with his omelet.

“That means eating, Sweetheart,” Blaine chided, “You like this, and you haven't eaten in over twelve hours.  You need this.”  Kurt opened his mouth to respond, but the worry in Blaine's eyes stopped him, and he quietly began to eat.

After brunch, Kurt insisted on helping to clean up, and then both retreated to their own side of the study to work quietly, separate yet close and together.  As the shadows grew, Blaine set aside the sketches of sets and costumes he had been working on and moved behind Kurt, reaching out to rub his back.  He circled Kurt's waist with his other hand and nuzzled his neck.  “Hungry?”  He asked Kurt.

“Not really, but apparently you are,” Kurt chuckled.  “What did you have in mind?”

“Let's order in and put on a movie.  We've both worked enough for today,” Blaine tugged Kurt out of his chair.  Kurt laughed, and allowed himself to be led into the living room for dinner in front of the television, and a romantic movie marathon that they missed the end of.  Again.

Sunday was spent quietly, full of gentle touches and quiet conversation.  They stayed away from thoughts of what the next day might bring, living in the present, enjoying just being together.

* * *