To: Kurt

Thank you.

... Kurt?

Oh. I see. You're still mad at me. I'll leave you alone then.

Blaine's phone buzzed almost immediately with a reply from Kurt, which made him smile until he opened up the text.

From: Kurt
Wow, I didn't think it'd be that easy.

To: Kurt
What?

From: Kurt
Getting you to shut up. You seem so... persistent.

Blaine's eyebrows furrowed, taking a few minutes to come up with a reply. Finally, he decided to ask a question he most likely already knew the answer to.

To: Kurt
Do you forgive me?

From: Kurt
No.

To: Kurt
Didn't think so. What can I do to make it up to you?

From: Kurt
Figure it out for yourself.

To: Kurt
Kuuuuuuurt.

From: Kurt
You'll figure something out, Hobbit. I have an audition now, so I've got to go.

He shook his head when he'd received Kurt's latest text. He was so used to the nickname 'Hobbit', it had no effect on him at all. But how was he going to get him to forgive him? He knew it would be a hard task, but he was up for the challenge.

He spent the next hour coming up with ways to get Kurt to forgive him, his head buzzing with ideas as he headed off to work.

He grabbed a pen and a piece of paper, and sat down at his piano scribbling down ideas as he waited for his next student to come in for her violin lesson.

To: Kurt
How about free coffee for a week?

From: Kurt
Think bigger.

_________________________________

"Thank you, Mr. Hummel," a man dressed in a grey blazer nodded, indicating that he could leave now. "We'll contact you," he added before Kurt headed out of the room. He thought the audition went well, but it wasn't about how he thought it went; it was about how they thought it went, and since this was a pretty big role, he was sure that doing 'well' wasn't going to cut it.

He left the office with an unsure feeling. This was the biggest opportunity he'd ever had, he didn't want to blow it. He tried to stay positive as he made his way home, but he couldn't stop himself thinking about what would happen if he didn't get it.

If he did get the role, he was pretty sure it would change his whole lifestyle. He'd be more likely to get bigger and better parts in shows, and he'd be making a whole lot more than he was now, which meant he could quit his job at the club.

He wasn't getting his hopes up too high, in case they didn't call him, but he could at least  dream, right? Though his dreaming was cut short after dinner, when he had to get down to the club.

He'd still gotten there way too early, giving him plenty of time to perfect his routine and outfit for the night.

He heard his name being called as soon as he ventured into the building and he spun around to see Max, his now shaggy, black hair flopping all over the place as he sprinted towards him. Kurt noticed he'd even got his lip pierced since he'd last seen him.

"Feeling better?" the man asked with a soft smile.

Kurt nodded. Within the week he'd been given off to stuff his face with junk food and sulk, he was definitely feeling better. He wasn't 100%, and he was still being pieced back together slowly, but he was getting better.

He stayed and talked to Max for a bit before making his way towards the back of the club and to his dressing room. He had his own private room since Kurt was, unspeakably Max's favourite out of all the dancers, and this gave him some time to himself before he had to get ready and go out on stage.

His mind trailed off to thoughts of Blaine. He wasn't as mad as before. Not after his breakdown the other day. He just wanted to watch Blaine sweat, see how far he would go to get Kurt to forgive him. Because Kurt liked Blaine. And he wanted to be friends, and even though he felt comfortable around him — even more comfortable than around Rachel or his family surprisingly — he couldn't trust him. Not yet. Not after the last time he'd been hurt.

Snapping back to reality, the boy glanced over at the clock. He had about an hour to get ready before he was scheduled to perform. He stripped out of his clothes, covering himself in body glitter before pulling on a leotard, that fit him perfectly in all the right places, and a sparkly, black vest going on overtop of it.

He flitted across the room, taking a seat in front of the vanity. He brushed a bit of eyeliner across his eyes and made sure his hair was in place before deciding his ensemble was perfect.

Making his way down the hallway, he had the attention of every dancer within radius. He stopped right behind the curtain and made his way gracefully out onto the stage as Adam Lambert started blaring through the club.

_________________________________

From: Wes
Your lover boy is hot!

Blaine was perched on a chair at his kitchen table, a piece of paper placed in front of him as he scribbled words down quickly. On top of the paper in big, capital letters was written 'OPERATION KURT'S FORGIVENESS', complete with bullet points next to Blaine's neat handwriting.

His eyebrows lifted when he'd received the text from Wes. What the hell was he talking about? Wes was very aware that he and Sebastian were broken up, and he hated his guts anyway, so he definitely wasn't talking about him.

To: Wes
Uh... what are you talking about?

From: Wes
You know... that boy who gave you the lapdance. Adonis or something? Yeah. Anyway, he's smokin'.

Blaine's eyes widened. What was Wes doing at the Cockpit? He hadn't told him or David about seeing Kurt since the first day at the club, so he wasn't there for that. But Wes was straight... or so he thought. It just didn't make sense that a straight man would be willing to go to a gay strip club. The time he dragged Blaine there was an exception.

To: Wes
Why are you even there? ... is there something you need to tell me, Wesley?

From: Wes
I don't think so? Is there something I *should* have to tell you?

From: Wes
I have no idea why I'm here.

From: Wes
Oh, but look. Now your lover boy is stripping! DAMN.

Blaine's confusion continued to linger at each text he'd received. Maybe Wes was high or something. He was about to send a reply, claiming that Kurt wasn't his lover boy, but he was interrupted by picture message.

He opened up the picture, and his eyes nearly bugged out of his head, causing him to choke mid-swallow. He tossed the phone back on the table, his mouth gaping. God damn.

He picked up his phone again, willing himself to stare at it for a few more moments. The picture of was Kurt, with his back facing the audience. He paid no attention to the hands running through his hair, but his eyes were lingering at his bottom half.

He noticed how long Kurt's legs were, and how creamy-like his thighs looked. He raked his eyes up, pausing at his ass. He'd previously been wearing the leotard, but now he was naked apart from the vest and black, short shorts. And they were really short.

Blaine took a minute to compose himself, not even noticing his phone buzzed with another text until after he cooled off. 

From: Wes
Jealous?

He didn't respond, but yeah, he was jealous. He shouldn't even be jealous. He'd just ended a relationship with the man he'd been with since high school. And he'd just met Kurt. He really thought he was going to explode; with all these thoughts and feelings, he wasn't sure how he was handling it so well.

He wasn't over Sebastian. Sure, the boy was only using him as a show off, but Blaine really had loved him, and these were feelings that just weren't going to disappear overnight. And then there was Kurt. The boy he'd met in possibly one of the most awkward situations ever, and he knew so little about him, but he couldn't stop himself from having some sort of feelings for him. 

What is wrong with me? he wondered, a groan escaping his lips and letting his head fall to the table. He winced and groaned again, this time out of pain. His heart was thumping loudly and his mind was reeling.

His eyes had fluttered shut and he had no idea how long he'd been in this position, but when he pulled his head up he wasn't feeling any better. So he did what he always did when everything was too much for him to deal with. He scooted out of his chair and wandered to his room, picking up his guitar and strumming the chords softly. 

_________________________________

Adrenaline was still pulsing through Kurt's veins even after he'd gotten home, and all through his nightly routine. This performance was his best out of all of them since he'd started working at the club, and he'd made well over 300 dollars in the short time he was on the stage.

He crawled onto the mattress and flipped off the light before getting settled in. His eyes fluttered shut, waiting for sleep to take him, but he was jolted awake by a loud purring right in his ear. His eyes opened and he stared sleepily at the white, furry blob in front of him.

He reached out his hand to stroke behind the cat's ears, causing him to purr louder. "Shh, McQueen," he said softly, retreating his hand, much to the cat's dismay. "Lay down, it's sleep-time, you crazy cat."

McQueen obeyed his owner's orders, flopping down right beside Kurt and curling into his body. And they shortly fell asleep.

_________________________________

Kurt woke up a few hours later to Rachel practically wailing to "Good Day Sunshine". He grumbled, pushing his face into the cool pillow, trying to cover his ears. It was 8am, and Kurt was not a morning person. And it made it all worse, waking up to Rachel's voice.

Sure, she was his best friend, he loved her to death and thought she was extremely talented, so he didn't mind when she sang, but he'd rather wake up much, much later and not to Rachel screeching. 

He finally forced himself up and out of bed, and after a shower he was moving all over the place. Putting outfits together, making breakfast, cleaning things that were already clean, but not to his standards.

After helping Rachel pack for her trip back home to Ohio for a while, his phone buzzed with a text.

To: Kurt
Hey, are you busy today?

He almost didn't want to reply, but he couldn't help but wonder what the boy was up to.

To: Blaine
If it involves your plan to get me to forgive you, I'm free all day. I'm actually quite curious.

Blaine laughed at the response from Kurt, quickly typing back his reply.

To: Kurt
So, if I just wanted to talk, you wouldn't be free?

To: Kurt
Yes, it's about Operation Kurt's Forgiveness.

From: Kurt
Exactly. And 'Operation Kurt's Forgiveness' huh? Hmm. Interesting.

To: Kurt
Yeah, yeah. Stop making fun of the name, Hummel.

To: Kurt
Anyway, would you meet me at my studio later?

After Kurt had agreed to meet him, Blaine texted him the address and directions. He bit his lip as he, once again, sat at his piano, staring down at his list. He was hoping like hell that this would work. He wanted to talk to Kurt, and not just with hints about his ideas. He wanted to really talk to him; learn more about him. Find out everything he loved and hated. 

And hopefully he'd be finding out soon.