Part Two
The drive to Dr. Keefer's office was silent and way too long. Puck actually drove the speed limit for once, too scared about Sam's testing to want to risk their lives just for a cheap adrenaline rush. The couple held hands the entire way there, too scared to let each other go. They weren't scared after seeing the doctor last time until it really took a toll on Sam on what could possibly happen. In the past ten years they've never really been apart from each other, except for when Sam went to Kentucky in the summer break before junior year.
"You're ridiculous!" Sam smiled really big. They were skyping, two years ago they decided to make it official, but it was a secret. They had resorted to skyping in the bedrooms but not loud enough for their parents downstairs to hear them.
"Yeah, I think I'm not going to cut my mohawk this year, I want it to long enough it touches my ear."
"That's gross."
"It's not gross! It'll give you something to hold on to when you visit me," Puck said winking into the camera. "And anyway, you do the best job at cutting it exactly where I want it. Everyone else either makes it too long or too short. You have the magic tough, Babe."
Sam laughed and shook his head. "I'm sure you can find someone else to cut it for you. You'll end up looking you put a squirrel's tail on your head. What about Kurt? He cuts his own hair and it looks pretty good."
"I'm not letting Kurt touch the 'hawk. He'd probably put all this gel and hairspray and mousse or whatever in it. Then it would get crusty. That would be gross."
"You're just a big baby. Maybe you should try cutting your mohawk yourself," Sam suggested.
"No! I'd rather just let it grow out. Maybe I can make it do some cool stuff when it's longer. Like actually spike it so it's a real mohawk! That would awesome!" Puck exclaimed.
Sam snorted at his boyfriend's antics. "Whatever makes you happy." He smiled at Puck through the camera, sighing after. "I miss you, Noah."
"Hey! Quit with the mushy stuff. I'm sure we're going to see each other soon," Puck picked up his guitar and started playing 'I'm Looking Through You' by The Beatles.
"I'm going to get a haircut," Sam talked over the music.
Puck stopped, "Good," and started again. "You look like a hippie. Pick up your guitar and join me."
"I'm looking through you, where did you go-" Sam usually sang when they jammed. Puck liked to maintain his mysterious guitar playing presence.
After they finished the song, "Come visit me," Sam requested, "Noah, visit me."
"No, do you realize how much gas that would cost me? Kentucky is like four hours away, I don't have that gas money." Puck didn't look up from his guitar; embarrassed that he didn't have any money.
"Don't you have that nasty old women infested pool cleaning business? You can start that up again," he suggested.
"You don't get it," Puck closed his laptop in rebellion. He tried to seem like his usual badass self, but it failed horribly because he opened his laptop again thirty minutes later and they skyped until four in the morning, the disagreement completely forgotten.
The couple walked into Dr. Keefer's office, hands clasped together tightly and heads held high. The music that was playing in the waiting room was nothing special this time, some boring family friendly music that would you hear at all doctor's offices. Sam was called back after five minutes of waiting. He sat down on the bed, this time with Puck next to him. Dr. Keefer didn't waste any time coming in and immediately got down to business.
"I'm assuming the nurse told you about the abnormalities we found in your blood cells, correct?"
Sam nodded and swallowed the lump in his throat down. "Yes, sir."
"It could mean any number of things, but due to your other present symptoms, we're going to run a complete blood count test."
"And what is that?" Puck asked.
"A CBC is a test that determines the number of red blood cells, white blood cells and platelets. It'll help us properly diagnose what you have."
"What do you think it is, Dr. Keefer?"
"Like I said before, it could be a number of things, but in my professional opinion, I think it could be Leukemia. The painless bumps that you have, the night sweats, the fatigue and weight loss. It all symptoms of Leukemia. We'll take another the blood sample from you, put a rush on the results and we'll have you come back on Wednesday for an official diagnosis."
Sam nodded. "Thank you, Dr. Keefer."
"You're welcome, boys. Take it easy though, Sam. I want you to relax as much as possible."
"I'll make sure he does, Doc."
"You boys have a good day." They sat in that room for twenty minutes before actually saying something. The room felt like it was getting smaller by the minute.
"Let's go to work," the dirty blond stated.
"Sammy, you can stay home; I'll take care of work. The doctor said to relax. Don't worry everything is going to be okay-"
"Stop saying that!" Sam let go of Puck's hand and pushed him away, "You don't know anything! Quit acting like you do. I'm not a child; I can go to work too!"
"Alright, then let's go. But you're going to be relaxing as much as possible at work. I will carry you everywhere if I have to."
Sam sighed and nodded. "Fine. But please don't carry me everywhere! That would be so embarrassing."
"I promise I won't carry you everywhere, only some places then!" Puck laughed, trying to diffuse all the tension in the room. "Well, if we're going to work, we better get going. We're late as is and customers have probably been blowing up the phones."
The boys parked in front of their graphic design business on the street, in the city of Rochester. The building was the normal two story brick. It had an apartment upstairs, which they lived in and the business downstairs. They mostly designed signs for other businesses and promotional posters for bands or local events. It was small, but pretty successful. Sam and Puck loved running it too. They had a small amount of people workings there, ten people including themselves.
Sam wasn't his usual self, quiet. Puck didn't have any idea what to say to him. Leukemia. Where did that come from? He doesn't remember Sam mentioning anything of it, if any of his relatives had it. He wanted to ask him, but that would be insensitive of him. Sam is still trying to process that he might have the "C" word. He wasn't ready to hear that word. None of his family has had Leukemia, why would he have it? He's spent his entire life being healthy. He's never over ate, or splurged on candy. He's worked out every day since the age of thirteen. He's never done anything significantly horrible. He smoked one or two cigarettes with Puck once, back when they were teenagers, but nothing that would ever get him seriously sick like this! Sam was wrapped up in his thoughts and didn't even notice Puck walking behind him and wrapping his arms around his waist. Sam jumped slightly, not expecting someone to be behind him and relaxed immediately when he realized who it was.
"What are we going to do, Noah?" Sam asked sadly.
"We're going to get through this is what we're going to do. I'll be strong for you and you'll be strong for me. We'll support each other, no matter what the doctor says. It might not even be Leukemia! You heard Dr. Keefer. He said it could be a lot of things. Stop worrying until we get an official diagnosis, alright Babe?" Puck held Sam tighter and pressed a gentle kiss below his ear, one of Sam's favorite spots to get kissed.
"I love you," Sam choked through held back tears, and put his arms over Puck's.
"I love you too," Puck whispered. He released him and got back to work. Puck doesn't know how he going to be strong enough for the both of them. Puck hasn't cried since he was locked in the port-a-potty for two days in junior year. He hates to cry, it shows a person's true weakness. He's had to take care of his mom and his little sister his entire life. Barb, his mom, was a complete train wreck since Harold left her. He messed up the beginning of junior year when he was sent to jail because he drove his mom's Volvo through a convenience store in order to steal an ATM. He has never felt anyone cared about him, until he met Sammy Evans and then Sam took care of him, the first time he's never had to be in control. They were equals.
The rest of Monday and Tuesday passed by in a blur. The couple went through their normal routines, not talking about what the doctor might tell them on Wednesday. They kept their emotions just under the surface, waiting to burst out from the slightest prick. Wednesday morning rolled around and Sam immediately sighed when he woke up to the sound of the alarm blaring. His appointment was early in the morning, at eight o'clock. He snuggled closer to Puck, not wanting to leave the warmth and comfort of their bed quite yet.
"Mmm, Noah. It's time to wake up," Sam said warmly.
"Don't wanna!" Puck tended to whine like a four year old in the morning, especially when he had to get up earlier than usual.
"I know you don't want to. But what if I said we could take a shower together?"
Puck immediately opened his eyes and stared right at Sam. "For real?"
"Yes for real! Come on. We need one anyway. May as well take it together."
The shower was nothing unusual for them. Sam refused Puck's offer for shower sex, claiming that they didn't have enough time since they spent so long getting out of bed that morning. Puck continued to whine like a four year old, but Sam is consistently stubborn so the answer remained no. He pouted, so Sam decided to lay his hand onto Puck's cock. He was aroused by the feeling of Sam's wet hand; he moaned as his dick hardened. Sam rubbed it slightly rough, as Puck liked it. The dirty blond moved faster the more responsive Puck was. Sam twisted his hand slightly, applying different pressure in different places. He rubbed his thumb over the tip, spreading the pre-come around.
"I'm about to-" Puck moaned. Sam quickly got on his knees and wrapped his mouth around Puck's dick to catch it. He hummed slightly and set Puck off the edge with a groan. "Oh shit! I love that trouty mouth of yours."
Sam swallowed and glared up at Puck. "Stop talking about my trouty mouth! I thought we got over that in high school, Puck." He stood up and shut off the shower, angry that Puck would bring up his awful high school nickname.
Puck followed Sam out of the bathroom and grabbed his hips. "Babe! You know I mean no harm by it! I can't control what I say when I'm cumming."
"Whatever Puck. Just don't do it again. You know I hate being called that."
Puck nodded and kissed Sam on the cheek. "I promise and I'm sorry."
"Okay, but I'm driving," Sam tried to turn around and kiss him, but Puck flinched.
"Woah, my dick was in your mouth," he joked.
"Are you kid-" He was cut off with Puck's kiss, and he put his arms on top of his shoulders, "We're going to be late."
There they were again, for the third time, sitting in Mr. Keefer's waiting room. Hand-in-Hand. It seems like every time they're there the grip they have on each other tightens.
"Whatever they say, whatever happens. I will always be there for you," Puck looked at him and they shared a peck. "I love you," he said
"I love you too," Sam replied.
They walked back to the familiar room and sat down. Dr. Keefer was already there, with a grim look on his face. Sam knew right then and there that it was what they expected.
"Hello boys. Sam, I'm extremely glad you have Mr. Puckerman here. I'm afraid I have some bad news. Your test results came back and it is Leukemia."
