Kurt had a dayshift. What a wonderfully horrible ending to a wonderfully horrible day. First, one of his instructors pulled him aside and asked him the most ridiculous of questions. "You don't want to do this for the rest of your life, do you?" The young student was flabbergasted.

"Excuse me?" He asked; his voice carried enough for a few students at nearby stations to turn and stare. The instructor quickly shooed them back to their work and turned back to the young man.

She smiled. "When I look at the other people in that room, I see a group of people that honestly believe that they'll spend the rest of their lives doing hair. They're happy about that prospect. I don't see that in you, Kurt. I see a young man who's doing this so that he has something to do." Damn.

"Well, I..."

The instructor held up her hand and shook her head. "I'm not saying you should stop doing this, Kurt. I'm just saying that you need to focus on your priorities. I've heard you talking to that annoying girl and I know that you have bigger dreams than that of a cosmetologist."

"There's nothing wrong with cosmetologists. It's respectable career choice." He defended.

"True." She agreed with him. "But it's only respectable if it's what you want to do. I see bigger and better things in your future, Kurt. I think you should consider putting effort into those things before the next 4 week module starts."

"But I've already come this far and..."

"And you haven't paid for the next module, so you can always back away. Besides, I looked into it and you'd have to have more credit hours to do hair in New York. That would mean more schooling. Do you really want to waste your time doing more schooling for this when you could be preparing for something else; something bigger?"

Needless to say, Kurt left school with a headache and a heavy heart. He had no idea what he wanted. He loved doing hair, of that he was sure, but he did not think that he wanted to endure another year or so of school in order to practice in New York?Ummm....HELLL NOOOOO!He was at yet another fork in the road and he didn't know which one to take. Should he say screw finishing school and begin working on audition pieces for the various theatre companies and wandering shows in New York –probably- or should he get ready to saddle up from another round of classes in beautify school –probably. He was so confused.

His day did not get much better once he was out of school. The fact that he had a string of messages from Will demanding that he work a day shift only heightened his frustrated mood.Oh well. You get you get and you don't throw a fit.He thought as he hopped into a car. Yet again, his mother's advice would get him through the day.

Kurt peeked around the corner and cringed. There were literally 3 people in the audience; an overweight man in a dirty Ohio State shirt, a skinny man in a suit that was at least 2 sizes too big, and a man with a hoodie pulled over his face. The performer shuddered. God, he didn't want to perform for them.

That was what life was about though. He had to perform whether he wanted to or not.The show must go on, right?

"Let's give a warm welcome to Xcelerate's own...Kallllvinn Climbs." The MC –not Artie, much to Kurt's disdain- bellowed. Kurt rolled his eyes at the dry applause he received.God, I hate working days.

He would give them the best show possible though. That's what he did. So, when the beat dropped, he stepped onto the stage, dressed as the dirtiest of police officers (not a real officer, real officers don't wear tiny underwear as pants. Well, that guy on Reno 911 does but...he doesn't count), and gave his tiny audience the best show of their lives.

You make me this, bring me up, bring me down, plays it sweet

Make me move like a freak, Mr. Saxobeat.

Makes me this, brings me up, brings me down, plays it sweet
Makes me move like a freak, Mr. Saxobeat.
You make me, this bring me up, bring me down, plays it sweet
Make me move like a freak, Mr. Saxobeat.
Makes me, this brings me up, brings me down, plays it sweet
Makes me move like a freak, Mr. Saxobeat.

Kurt sashayed across the stage, pointing his imitation Billy club at each of the members of the audience. Two of his three patrons cheered when he pointed the object at them. The performer didn't let the 3rd man's unresponsiveness deter him. He had a show to put on.

Oh oh oh oh, yeah, mmm yeah, mmm yeah, mmm yeah...
Oh oh, yeah, mmm yeah, mmm yeah, mmm yeah...
Oh, yeah, mmm yeah, mmm yeah, mmm yeah...
Oh oh, yeah, mmm yeah, mmm yeah, mmm yeah...

The performer rolled his hips to the beat of the music as he slid the prop down his body. Thankfully, the tiny audience loved it and they were throwing their wadded up money at him. At least he wouldn't go home empty handed.

As the chorus repeated once again, Kurt began to unbutton his shirt. Everyone, except the man in the back with hoodie over his head, stood up and walked closer to the stage. They watched hungrily as Kurt's nimble fingers loosened each button.

Mr. Saxobeat, Mr. Saxobeat.
Hey sexy boy, set me free, don't be so shy, play with me
My dirty boy, can't you see, that you belong next to me.
Hey sexy boy, set me free, don't be so shy, play with me
My dirty boy, can't you see, you are the one for meeeee.

Once the shirt was undone, Kurt did a few twirls and dropped into a split. The men in the room shouted for more. So, Kurt gave it to them. Still in his split, Kurt shrugged off the shirt and tossed it towards the unresponsive man in the back. The man caught it. Kurt watched as the man stood from his seat and sauntered towards the stage.

With the song still playing, Kurt had to tear his eyes away from the man in favor of finishing his routine. It was difficult, however. There was something about the way the man swaggered towards the stage that was oddly familiar to the performer.

You make me, this bring me up, bring me down, plays it sweet
Make me move like a freak, Mr. Saxobeat.
Makes me, this brings me up, brings me down, plays it sweet
Makes me move like a freak.
You make me, this bring me up, bring me down, Mr. Saxobeat.
You make me, this bring me up, bring me down, Mr. Saxobeat.

Kurt finished the song with another split in front of the patrons that actually paid for the show; ignoring the hooded man completely. Just as he was getting up, the man walked over to him and tossed him a few bills. The dancer faltered for a moment but scooped the money from the floor none the less. New York isn't going to pay for itself.

When he returned to the backstage area, he unfolded each of his bills and counted. $47. It would have been a waste if his mother hadn't taught him any better.Every penny counts, honey. Yeah right.Just as he was about to pack his things away, he remembered the bills that the hooded man had tossed him. He'd set them aside because they already looked flat, thus there was no need for him to flatten them underneath old text books that he'd never returned to the school as he did the crumpled money that he usually received.

As quickly as he could, the dancer grabbed the notes from the end of his station. He gasped. He hadn't noticed before that they were folded up $20s. That was a nice surprise. He got another surprise when he unfolded them.

There, written in red marker across the front of the top bill, was a message.

'Figure you'll need this once you're alone.'

Spending time with Kurt over the past few weeks was heavenly for Blaine. He'd never had a real, guy friend. Before his marriage, guys usually didn't hang out with him because of his sexuality –their loss- and afterwards, he spent most of his time with his husband, thus not having time to meet other guys. So, it was a welcome change to have a guy in his life that he wasn't romantically linked to. It was different; in a good way. And Blaine was grateful.

As days went by, Blaine was more and more grateful for Kurt's presence. The day that Jeremiah called and invited them to his and Sebastian's 'Big Gay Thanksgiving Extravaganza', Blaine was very grateful. He wasn't as grateful for the invitation –he was still hopelessly in love with Jeremiah, who was still engaged to Sebastian - as he was for Kurt's response. His friend was all for it.

The evening of the dinner, Blaine stood aside as Kurt dressed and groomed him for the evening. They wore matching outfits that Kurt picked out and Blaine paid for, and brought a homemade apple pie that Kurt slaved over earlier that morning.

Dinner went well, at least in Blaine's opinion. Midway through the meal, the pharmacist felt something rub against the side of his leg. When he looked beneath the table, he saw that his ex-husband's foot was rubbing shamelessly against his leg. The young man blushed; Jeremiah had a way of making him do that. When he looked up, he was met by a very smug Jeremiah. Blaine's cheeks flushed harder. God he'd missed Jeremiah's touch. So, he left his leg just as it was and allowed the man to rub his foot against it.Best dinner ever.

What Blaine didn't know was that Kurt watched the entire scene. He also didn't know about the tiny pang of ....something.... that shot through Kurt's chest every time Blaine shot his ex a shy smile.

"I freaking hate that guy! He spent all night just.....staring at me like I did something wrong. He doesn't know me though. I will drag him through a parking lot by his Zack Morris hair." Kurt shouted as they stomped towards Blaine's Prius.

Blaine, who still wasn't sure what Kurt was talking about, remained silent as his friend ranted. "All throughout dinner. He stared at me the entire time like he had something to say. I hate that. If you have something to say, then say it. Don't shoot me pissy little glances like I'm supposed to know what they mean." Kurt climbed into the unlocked car and slammed the door behind him. With a sigh, Blaine climbed in as well. As much as he didn't want to admit it, Kurt was kind of ruining his good mood.

"Who are we talking about?" He finally asked as they backed out of the restaurant parking lot. He kind of hoped they were talking about Jeremiah because that meant that Jeremiah was jealous and jealousy meant that he still had feelings for Blaine.

"Sebastian." Kurt screeched. "He spent the entire night giving me theselooksas if I would hesitate to put a bitch in his place. But, I'm sure you didn't notice because you were too busy playing footsy with your ex." Blaine eyes widened but they did not leave the road. There was something in Kurt's voice that almost sounded hurt. Almost. On the surface, it was accusatory but just beneath the accusation was a tiny bit of hurt. Blaine heard it.

"Yeah. I mean...he was kind of....and....I don't know. I liked it. He hasn't flirted with me in ages and....it was nice. Super nice." Kurt sighed and rolled his eyes.

"I thought you wanted him to break up with Sebastian before you tried to get back together."

The pharmacist shrugged. He really didn't care how it happened, as long as it happened. "It doesn't matter. What does matter is that he's changed."

Kurt scoffed. "Changed? I don't see how he's changed. Isn't flirting with another guy while he's tied to yet another guy exactly what he was doing before?"

Blaine slammed on the breaks and turned towards his friend. He was shocked. There was nothing about the two situations that were similar. He and Jeremiah had history, unlike Jeremiah and Sebastian. They'd been married. By default, marriage meant that there were a lot more feelings between them. Sure, Jeremiah and Sebastian weregettingmarried, but they hadn't taken the leap yet. "It's different." He advised with a confident squaring of his shoulders.

Again, Kurt scoffed. "Yeah right. He's buttering you up while his fiancé is sitting not two feet from him. That's no different than him flirting with a waitress while you scan the menu. Face it, Blaine, he hasn't changed and now you're playing the role of his all too willing side piece."

"You know what," Blaine shouted. He was having such a good evening; it was a shame it had to end that way. "If you didn't want to be a part of this, then you didn't have to be. You knew what I wanted when this started and you agreed. So don't chastise me now." Kurt huffed and sat back in his seat. After a moment, Blaine restarted the car and drove towards the man's house. Neither spoke a word the entire trip.

As he slid the car into park, Blaine turned and looked at his friend. He seemed contemplative. "Look, I'm..." He began. It didn't take long for Kurt to cut him off.

"I'm sorry. You're right. I knew what this was before it started, I just....I don't want you to get your heart broken. It's only been a few weeks, but I care about you, Blaine. And, I can only see this ending badly for you."

"I'm sorry too, for yelling at you. I shouldn't have. Honestly, I knew you were right. I just want this to work so badly. I mean...I love him so much-"

"Does he deserve your love?" It was a simple question –five words- but it seemed so hard to answer. Did Jeremiah deserve his love?Probably not. Did Jeremiah have it anyways?Obviously."I'll take your silence as a no. That's okay though. Sometimes we love people who don't deserve it. That's part of learning and growing."

"Let me guess, your mother told you that at one point in time?" Kurt nodded. She had. It was right after Kurt announced his hopeless love and devotion for Nick Lachey just after his 7th birthday. "It's hard to turn off that love though. Ya know, to let it go?"

"Idon'tknow, because I've never been in love; real love. I can only imagine how difficult it is to realize the person you love isn't the person you want them to be." The two sat with their thoughts for a moment. It was Kurt that broke the silence this time. "What are you doing for Christmas? It's coming up soon and...just what are you doing?"

With a shrug, Blaine turned away from his friend. "Quinn, Santana and I usually get drunk at my house and have an 'Orphan's Christmas' together. Our parents aren't really around and we're all only children so...." He trailed off lamely with another shrug.

"Well," Kurt began just as his hand reached the door hand, "why don't you guys join some real orphans for Christmas. Rachel and I usually deck the house out and sing loud and obnoxiously."

Blaine's face fell. "Crap. I hadn't considered the fact that you guys are real...I'm so sorry."

"It's alright. Do you guys wanna come?"

Blaine thought for a moment. "Well, I knowIwant to come but-"

"That's what she said."

"I'll have to ask Santana and Quinn." He was learning not to let Kurt's little remarks deter him from his original thought pattern.

The performer clasped his hands together and beamed. "Great. In fact, you guys should sleep over and we'll open presents Christmas morning. It'll be great!" Blaine nodded. That sounded wonderful.

"Great, well, I are you still coming to my show tomorrow night?" Another nod. "Yay. So, I'll see you tomorrow and then-"

"Harry Potter marathon at my house." Kurt reached over and gave his friend a hug. He was so excited. Blaine was the first real male friend he'd ever had and it was nice to do things with someone other than Rachel.

"So excited. I'll see you then." With that, he flung his car door open and hopped out of the car. Blaine sat back and watched the man go. For the first time since he'd met Kurt, he noticed something.Kurt is absolutely adorable when he's excited.

Kurt walked out on stage before Artie could announce him. The crowd –including Blaine, Santana, and Quinn- was tastefully surprised. "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen." He purred into the microphone. The crowd went crazy. From every direction, hoots and hollers sounded towards the stage. The performer soaked them up.Sometimes, I love my job. I've got people shouting at me just as it should be. Maybe it's this get up. I mean, a black, spandex body suit with a million buttons can be hot. I guess.

"Now, we all know Xcelerate has a strict 'don't touch the merchandise' policy, right?" Boos rang out in room. Kurt held a finger to his lips to silence the crowd. Their jeers quieted instantly. "Don't fret my friends. What they don't know won't hurt them and....I think I see a few rule breakers in here tonight." Kurt shot a wink in Santana's direction –that girl loves to touch- before handing the microphone to a stage hand and indicating to Artie that he was ready.

I'm telling you to loosen up my buttons babe
But you keep frontin'
Sayin' what you gon' do to me
But I ain't seen nothin'

Kurt went straight for the kill. Rather than starting out slow, the performer sunk to his knees and crawled to the stage. Instinctively, much the same way a dog would sniff out food; he located the customer with the most money and made his way towards him. A semi attractive man with gray hair held up a few hundred dollar bills and Kurt ground and shimmied just enough to pull those bills out of the man's grasp. It was like a super power.

Typical and hardly
The type I fall for
I like it when the physical
Don't leave me askin' for more

I'm a sexy mama
Who knows just how to get what I wanna
What I wanna do is bring this on ya
Back up all the things that I told ya

As he worked across the stage, unbuttoning the million and one buttons on his outfit, Kurt's hips and body moved along with the music. Sensual energy oozed out of his pores as the music played. Of all the songs he'd ever danced too, he definitely felt sexiest dancing to this one. That was an odd feeling. Kurt never felt sexy. But he did tonight. He had the music to thank for that. "Take off your fucking clothes. Auntie Snix wants to see your peaCOCK!"

And Santana. She started shouting the moment he started performing and that definitely made him feel sex.Speaking of...

Kurt crawled across the stage floor to his friends' table. Santana was out of her seat before he was at the midway point. "Come on, honey." She purred as he got closer. From the corner of his eye, Kurt could see Blaine shaking his head. He was red as a beet and obviously embarrassed. There was nothing to be embarrassed about. Santana was having a good time and Kurt wanted Blaine to have a good time as well. So, once he was close enough to the edge of the stage, he hopped off and climbed into his friend's lap.

You've been sayin'
All the right things all night long
But I can't seem to get you over here
To help take this off

"Kurt! What are you doing?" Blaine asked in a harsh whisper. Kurt chuckled and ground his hips down. Honestly, he couldn't answer that question. There were a million ways to help Blaine have a good time but, for the life of him, he couldn't think of any but the one he'd chosen.

Kurt shimmied in Blaine's lap for a moment before grabbing the man's hand. He could feel all eyes in the room on him but he didn't care. He'd already taken the leap; there was no turning back.

I'm telling you to loosen up my buttons babe
But you keep frontin'
Sayin' what you gon' do to me
But I ain't seen nothin'

He guided his friend's hand to one of the few buttons that was still done on his outfit, just above his navel, and used the man's fingers to undo it. The crowd went crazy. "Get it together, Blaine. Take his damn clothes off!" It was Quinn that shouted. That was unexpected.

Once the button was undone, Kurt guided his friend's hand down to undo another one, just below his navel. This time, Blaine didn't need any help. He undid the next by himself. He watched intently as the fabric stretched away from the resistance of the fastened buttons. The black material stretched and strained against Kurt's abdomen in a way that made Blaine's pants tight; unbelievable tight.

You say you're a big boy
But I can't agree
'Cuz the love you said you had
Ain't been put on me

Eventually, Blaine was able to tear his eyes away from his friend's midsection. Slowly, he let his eyes drift up the expanse of his friend's exposed chest and to his neck. He'd never noticed Kurt's neck before. It looked soft in places but defined it others. Even more slowly than before, Blaine's eyes trailed past Kurt's defined jaw, his soft lips, and finally to his eyes. He held the man's gaze for a moment before realizing his situation.

"Get up." He whispered; just loud enough for Kurt to hear him. Kurt's eyes widened and his eyebrows furrowed. He was confused. "Get up. Get up. I need you to get up." Blaine rushed. Kurt nodded dumbly and stood up from the seat. In a flash, Blaine was out of his seat and headed towards the front door.

The performer stood dumbfounded in the middle of the room as the music continued to play.Too far?He asked himself. "Just because he didn't want it doesn't mean that I don't." Santana shouted, gaining his attention. With all eyes on him, Kurt strutted over the girl and allowed her to loosen the rest of his buttons.

When the song was over and Blaine hadn't returned, Kurt realized that he'd gone too far. Fuck. He thought as he packed his bag that evening. This is why I never have guy friends. I always make them uncomfortable.

Kurt finished packing his bag and exited the club before closing hours. Just as he was about to climb in his father's truck, he noticed a man standing towards the entrance of the club, watching him. It was the man with the hood from a few days ago. Kurt would recognize that hoodie anywhere; a red Hollister zip up.

The dancer waved. There were tons of people around, so he felt safe. The man nodded in response and turned back towards the club. Kurt shrugged. There wasn't much else to do.Well, not if you don't count the fact that I have to find Blaine and apologize. Scratch that. This is a lot to do.