Chapter Eight: Tests
They continued with their new development in their relationship and Puck finally felt more satisfied than ever before – having no need to go elsewhere, looking for a little 'something-something'. Kurt had all the necessary bases covered. When they had done the deed, Noah had no idea that Kurt's sexual awakening would be so profound leading to everything from vanilla-sex to light BDSM, the countertenor was probably the most adventurous of all his partners; even more audacious, perhaps, than Santana and that was a tall order.
It had been two months since that first time and all in all, Puck was rather pleased of Kurt. He had known from the first time they had sex that, with practice, Kurt would turn out to be a helluva firecracker in the bedroom. As it happened, Kurt was more than the larger boy could ask for. Thus far they'd had sex in the parking lot, behind the dumpsters (after hours), in the two janitor closets, in the choir room (with Kurt bent over the piano – that was Puck's favourite) and in the park on one occasion. Damn that diva's kinky... and horny... Sometimes Noah even wondered if, perhaps, Kurt was even more insatiable than himself.
Still, nothing had changed between the two of them to outsiders and it was working really well for the both of them.
However, one Saturday morning, (Burt and Carole were in Columbus and Finn was over Rachel's) Puck was round Kurt's, taking advantage of the queen-size bed stretched, naked, beside the slender boy who was equally naked. Kurt had shifted to lay half on top of Noah, with his lithe arm across his muscular stomach and was nuzzling his chest as he tried to get comfortable in his sleepy state. It was then, looking down upon Kurt's sleeping face, his long lashes fluttering lightly against his cheeks as he dreamed and the sun slipping through the window and bathing Kurt in a golden glow, that Puck felt his heart clench. The thought of I'm not good enough for him, ran rampant through his mind but he ignored it in favour of relishing the felling of Kurt pressed against him. Kurt awoke as Noah gently ran his hand through soft locks of chestnut hair, dishevelled and charming.
"Hey." The smaller boy murmured.
"Morning, gorgeous." He whispered back, savouring the blush that spread across pale cheeks at the endearment before leaning in to lock their lips passionately.
Unfortunately, just as things were getting heavier – Kurt's nimble fingers lightly playing with Noah's nipple and Noah's hand drifting down to gently finger Kurt's sensitive opening – the countertenor suddenly leapt from the bed and rushed towards the spotless en-suite, a hand over his mouth.
Puck laid there for a moment, stunned, until he heard retching from the open bathroom door. With a grimace, he stood from the bed and wandered to where Kurt was paying homage to the porcelain throne. He didn't expect that 'heart-clench' again as he took in Kurt's appearance, unclothed and vulnerable as he shuddered and emptied his stomach again into the toilet. Without really knowing how it happened, Noah suddenly found himself at Kurt's side, rubbing soothing circles into the soft skin of his back and running a cold flannel against the back of his swanlike neck until Kurt's vomiting subsided.
"You ok, Princess?" Noah asked, unsure of what to do with these sudden, dare he say it, feelings which had seemingly sprung up out of nowhere for the smaller boy.
"No." Kurt answered honestly, a small, sarcastic smile on his face. "I feel better now, though." He grimaced, "Sorry about ruining 'the mood'."
Noah shook his head, "Don't worry, babe, I won't actually die if I don't have sex." Kurt chuckled at this before promptly turning green and turning back to the toilet just in time to up-chuck once more.
An hour later found the two of them, teeth brushed, cuddled up again under the covers after Noah had put on RENT, one of Kurt's favourite musicals, which Puck wouldn't kill himself over having to watch. Besides the boy who he'd been having sex with for the last two months was ill, and if there was one thing Noah Puckerman knew he was good at (other than sexing it up) it was looking after sick people; having a younger sister who frequently came home with new diseases did that to a person.
Kurt was feeling weak and feeble and, more than anything, he was really irritated that their sexy-time had been cut short by a stupid stomach bug. He hadn't been feeling well for a couple of days, the smell of various food stuffs sending his head reeling and stomach churning. Earlier in the week he had vomited once or twice, but just thought it might be due to overworking himself and the added stress of keeping his growing feelings from Noah, however, now he was starting to feel a little worried.
"Babe, I'm gonna make food, are you hungry?" Noah asked, lightly squeezing his shoulders and pressing a kiss into his hairline. Kurt's heart fluttered violently.
"Honestly, I'm not really hungry... but I s'pose I could have something light?" He thought for a moment, "I think I have some soup in the cupboard."
Noah smiled, "Ok, babe, I'll be back in a bit." Then, after kissing Kurt's forehead softly and pulling on one of Kurt's too-big pairs of sweats, he made his way up from the basement to the kitchen, leaving Kurt to wallow alone.
Maybe I should go to the doctors...? It's been what, a week since I started feeling ill...? Yeah, I'll go to the doctor's today. Kurt sighed, this 'relationship' with Noah was amazing – the sex was incredible – but every time he gave himself to Puck he felt a little more of himself die inside. He knew that what he was doing wasn't healthy. And worse, he knew that if Burt were to find out, he would be so very disappointed. As he had told his son, he was worth so much more, and Kurt knew that, but he really didn't want to let go of the arrangement he had going with the footballer. He wasn't ready. Surely after all the shit he had gone through due to his sexuality he deserved to be (kind of) happy...? To know and learn the kindness of skin against skin?
There were other times when, upon joining with Puck, he would find himself beginning to feel complete, healed and then reality would settle in, a reality in which there was no room in Noah's life for the 'Fag'. Kurt sighed again, maybe it's time to end it...? A voice at the back of his mind murmured, as if you have the strength.
Thankfully, he was saved from his melancholic thoughts by Noah returning to the basement, with a steaming bowl of soup with a few slices of bread on the side and what looked to be cheese on toast for Puck. The soup smelt good, but it wasn't one of the tinned kind that Kurt had in the kitchen.
"Did you make me soup?" Kurt asked incredulously, eyebrows raised.
Noah smiled, "Old Jewish recipe, guaranteed to settle your stomach." Kurt smiled back at him and sat up in bed, the covers pooling around his hips. Puck placed the tray on Kurt's lap and the two of them began eating.
"Oh my gosh! Noah this is amazing! How'd you make it?" Kurt exclaimed.
"I'm 'fraid that's a secret Princess, just enjoy it and I promise to make it for you again." Kurt felt his heart swell at that, but ignored it desperately in favour of eating the food in front of him.
After Noah left, Kurt spent a couple more hours around the house, before dressing – to the nines, of course, and hopping into his baby to head toward the nearest walk-in centre. It was with great trepidation that he sat in the waiting room, nerves making his knees bounce, until his name was called by the homely looking nurse behind the desk.
"Just go right on in." She said, smiling kindly; Kurt tried to smile back, but he had a feeling it appeared to be more of a grimace.
He stopped for a moment just outside the doctor's room to calm himself, it's probably nothing. He knocked before entering and sat down once inside. The doctor – a relatively young man – turned to him with a wide, trustworthy smile.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Hummel, I'm Dr. Turner, what seems to be the problem?"
Kurt swallowed, "Basically, over the past week or so – though now I think about it, it's probably closer to two weeks – I've been feeling very nauseous and I've vomited on more than one occasion. Mostly it's early in the morning, from when I get up 'til about noon, but sometimes I feel unwell for most of the day." Kurt took a breath to assess what he'd said. "Often, I feel sick when I catch a whiff of something... recently it's been eggs but before it was coffee – that caused me no end of grief."
The doctor looked thoughtful, his brows drawn low over his eyes; he leant forward, his elbows resting on his knees and his fingers steepled. "Kurt, are you sexually active?"
Omigod! I'm gonna die, I've got an STD from that man whore! "Yes. Recently..."
"With men or women?" Kurt hesitated; Ohio was a small-minded place to live after all. "You don't have to worry, everything you say in here is completely confidential." Dr. Turner said with a reassuring smile.
"Men..."
"Ok. Kurt... Have you been using condoms?"
"Oh, God... I've got AIDs or something haven't I? I'm gonna kill him! He told me he was clean, that –"
"Calm down, Kurt. You're not going to die. Though I will take that as a 'no'." The doctor paused, his blonde hair falling across his face a little. "Have you ever heard of Carriers?" Kurt shook his head and the doctor looked a little upset. "Ok, first I'm going to run some tests to confirm my theory on just what is causing you discomfort and, if I'm correct, we're going to have a little chat. It that alright?" Kurt nodded, "We'll start with the urine test and then I shall draw some blood, just to be sure."
"Ok." Kurt said as he was handed the little plastic tub, his mind swimming. As he closed the door to the tiny en-suite Kurt's mind was working at a million miles an hour but the one thought that kept circling around in his head was: what is a Carrier?
"Right then, Kurt, let's have a look at these results." The doctor said cheerily as he opened the file on his desk. After a few moments of scanning over the data he found there, Kurt so tense he thought he was going to pee himself, the blonde man finally looked up at the high school student, slowly shutting the file and leaning forward again. "Do your parents know that you're gay, Kurt?"
"It's just me and my dad, though he recently remarried, and yes. Yes, I told him about a year ago."
The doctor smiled, "Good."
"Uhm. Dr. Turner... I'm sorry, but since you mentioned it, I can't stop thinking about it. What are Carriers?"
He sighed and ran a hand over the back of his neck, reminding Kurt of Noah, "Right. Carriers. Well, during the late 70s and early 80s there was a great deal of controversy concerning homosexuals and... well, I'm sure you've heard about all that and most of what was told to them: 'It's not right', 'It goes against God' and 'Lovemaking is for men and women to make babies'." Kurt nodded and the doctor sighed. "Doctors, in support of the homosexuals – the men in particular – began to experiment. It started with animals and once the tests proved effective they began to move on to humans. Unfortunately, some of the drugs went awry and ended up in a warehouse where they sat for a good amount of time. It's been said that they were labelled as prenatal vitamins and still in date. They looked to fit the bill and they were distributed. The drugs were of course illegal, but by the time the medical personnel had it sussed the 'damage' had been done." Kurt leaned further forward in his seat. This was a piece of gay culture he had not been aware of. In the back of his mind, he didn't miss the disgust in the doctor's voice as he ground out the word 'damage', but he promised himself he would address it later. "The drugs, codenamed: Seahorse, caused male embryos to... it made them able to make babies with other men. Effectively, the drugs made it possible for gay men to have children with their partner should they so desire. These males are few, but every so often a case like yours may pop up and we at least know how to deal with it, whatever the patient may choose to do."
Kurt sat in stunned silence. Baby?
"Kurt." A hand waved in front of his face, "Your results came back positive. You're pregnant."
Positive.
Positive.
Positive.
Positive.
Positive.
Every single one of the home pregnancy tests that he had bought on the way home was giving the same reading. I'm pregnant. I'm pregnant. I'm pregnant. I'm pregnant. He had thought it was some kind of cruel joke, but with so many little plus signs staring up at him it was hard to deny it.
Burt and Carole had just gotten back from Columbus when he arrived home and he'd shut himself in his room without so much of a 'Hello'. Now he was going to have to tell his dad.
Slowly, he walked up the stairs to find his dad sitting on the couch watching another re-run of that blasted Deadliest Catch. Kurt walked to the side of the sofa, his head down and hands grasping tightly at his shirt – a nervous gesture he had thought he had left behind – before he spoke.
"Daddy." He whispered, his voice catching as tears slipped silently down his face, Burt looked at him, his face growing swiftly concerned, "Daddy, I have to tell you something."