For Lindsey

It had been a month, but not much had changed.

"Hey Kurt, do you wanna watch a movie?"

"No…homework."

"I'm hungry, wanna go eat?"

"Empty calories."

"Wanna give me a makeover?"

"Tempting. But no."

"Wanna take a shower with me?"

"WHAT?"

"Just checking."

It had been a very long month of Finn wanting to make it up to Kurt, and Kurt not letting it go. Finn had offered just about everything he had to offer, and while Kurt remained polite, not too bitchy, and overall the same as he used to be, there was something missing. That spark of mischievous snarkiness that made Finn laugh. Finn was determined to get it back. So, he did what Kurt always did when he wanted to get something done right: made a list.

1. Do something nice for Kurt.

Glee was brutal on this particular day. Lots of complicated, fast dance moves. Brittany and Mike were pretty much the only ones who could keep up; everyone else was left in the dust. They were all magnificently sore and were all but limping to their cars.

"Kurt. I told you not to wear heels to Glee club. You had it coming." Mercedes scolded.

Kurt replied with a sneer, "I wear heels to strengthen my leg muscles and make my ass look fabulous. You will all be thanking me when I have the calves of a god and can dance for hours without stopping."

"Whatever. You can't wear heels and expect your feet to not be in agony. I'm a black girl. I would know."

"Mercedes, I haven't seen you wear heels since the last school dance, Miss Reebok."

"It's cause I'm smart and don't want my feet to fall off."

Kurt growled at her, cattily. "Fine. When I can leave a Glee rehearsal like the one we just had feeling lovely and you're huffing and puffing, we'll see how you feel about it. My feet hurt so damn much, though, it's awf—WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?"

Finn heard Kurt's complaining and immediately thought of the list. This was his chance to do something nice! So he crept up behind Kurt and lifted him up into his arms. Yes, he was tired and sore, but plans are plans. And he was determined to get the old Kurt back.

"You said your feet hurt."

"WHY ARE YOU CARRYING ME? PUT ME DOWN! I DON'T LIKE BEING OFF THE GROUND!"

"Your heels are hurting your feet, so I'm giving you a lift to your car so your feet can rest some. Calm down."

"WHY?"

"Because you're my friend, and that's what friends do! We do nice things for each other!"

Kurt's gaze narrowed. He realized this was a ploy to get in his good graces again. He wriggled free of Finn's grip, wincing when his feet hit the pavement.

"I appreciate it. But I don't need your help." And with that, he linked his arm with Mercedes and continued to gossip and limp slowly toward his car.

2. Bake him something.

"What is that ungodly smell?"

"Oh!" Finn wiped his hands on his apron. "Kurt, you're home!"

Kurt raised an eyebrow. "Yeah. I'm home. What are you cooking? It smells disgusting."

The corners of Finn's mouth threatened to turn down into a frown, but he resisted. "I made you a sugar-free cake. Since you're always talking about empty calories or whatever…"

He pulled a blue-and-black striped creation out of the oven. It was smoking.

"…is that my Marc Jacobs sweater?"

Finn smiled. "I knew it was like, you most favorite thing in the world, so I made your cake into the shape of it."

Kurt felt mildly touched, however…"What recipe did you use? Because it smells like a dead animal and it's not normal for a cake to be billowing white smoke like an old car."

"I didn't use a recipe. I thought cakes were a combination of things a person likes…you know, they say cakes are made of all things good and wonderful, so I thought of things you thought were good and wonderful and put it in the cake along with some cake mix."

"Oh my god. Like what?"

Finn thought for a moment. "Well, I put in some rhinestones, your Lady GaGa CD—don't freak out, I made a copy—some of the loose threads from your sweater, squirted a bit of your moisturizer, and your dad's pillowcase."

"My dad's pillowcase?"

"You think your dad is pretty cool, right?"

"Yes, but…none of that accounts for the awful smell…what did you put in the cake to make it rise?"

"The cake mix box said water, vegetable oil, and two whole eggs."

Kurt's gaze darted to the cake. "You didn't crack the eggs, did you? You just put them in there whole."

"It said TWO WHOLE EGGS, Kurt. You haven't even thanked me for making you the best cake ever."

"Thanks, I guess. If I ate this, I would die. Literally. I'm throwing it out."

Finn looked heartbroken as Kurt picked up his Special Cake and threw it in the trash. They both looked down at it.

"You used my eye shadow for the blue in the cake, didn't you?"

"Well, it was either that or Drain-O."

Kurt sighed disgustedly and trudged down the stairs to his room.

3. Play to his interests.

Another sleepy Sunday afternoon in the Hummel-Hudson household. Carole always insisted that they all go to the Nondenominational church on the corner, since none of them could agree on a system of beliefs, so they would go for an hour on Sunday morning and then come home and do whatever they wanted. As usual, Burt and Carole headed to bed for an afternoon nap. That left Kurt and Finn to "do whatever."

Kurt sat on the couch in a raggedy pair of gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt. Few ever saw him like this, but it was Finn's favorite version of Kurt—a side of him that he could relate to, at least visually. He sat cross-legged with a bowl of popcorn cradled between his thin thighs. At this point, Finn usually came through the living room, murmured something about going to Puck's house, and left promptly. But Puck was going to mass with Quinn this particular morning, and Finn had alternate plans anyway.

"Hey there, buddy!" he flopped down on the couch next to Kurt and grabbed a handful of popcorn. "What are we watching?"

Kurt looked at him as though he had just beamed down from the mothership. "Um. Project Runway."

"Fabulous!" he grinned widely and attempted to sit cross-legged like Kurt. His legs proved too long for the task, and instead he ended up losing his balance and falling sideways, his head landing into the bowl of popcorn. Kurt jumped up in alarm.

"What are you doing?"

Finn smiled at him. "I love Project Runway! It has that blonde model chick and…clothes…"

"Finn, this is pathetic."

"Forgive me? Please?" His eyes had a pleading look to them that was simply heartbreaking.

"Finn, I…"

"I shouldn't have called your blanket faggy. I know that."

Hearing that word come out of Finn's mouth again caused a wave of flashbacks. Kurt suddenly fought the urge to cry. He left the room on the verge of tears, leaving Finn to clean up the popcorn that covered the floor.

4. Sing it to him…?

Finn crept down the stairs to Kurt's room in the basement. Kurt was curled up, asleep on his couch. He sometimes liked to take naps after school to keep him "fresh as a daisy" for any evening plans he might have.

Finn slipped the CD into the player and hit play. As the soft lull of the horns hit the air, Kurt stirred. First, he smiled at the music. Then, he jumped in surprise at Finn being in his room.

"What are you doing, Finn?" he sighed. He didn't have the energy to deal with his insane almost-stepbrother doing whatever he was doing to establish a relationship that frankly, Kurt himself had lost interest in.

"Just listen to the song, Kurt.

Oh, I'm sorry, can't you see that I'm sorry,
All my life I'll be sorry, I was mean to you.
You're so dear to me, when you're near to me, the whole world seems fine.
Need you so,
Heaven knows I'll be sorry if you say we're through—"

Kurt hit stop on the CD player. "Frank Sinatra. Nice choice, but it doesn't matter."

Finn's face just about fell off of his head. "What do I have to do to show you that I really am sorry for what I did and I want to be friends?"

Kurt's face was twisted into a pained expression. He didn't speak.

"I'm serious. I want us to be friends. We're going to be brothers soon. We're gonna be a family. I want us to be happy together."

"Well, Finn, here's the deal. You're one of the most popular guys at school. I understand it's a lot of pressure." Finn nodded, unsure of where this was going. "But here's what gets me. One, you used that word. I know you apologized, but do you even realize how it felt to me? You were my friend and yes, I cared for you deeply beyond that. When you used that word, you did something I thought I would never see you do—become one of THEM. Your football friends call me that every day. I deal with what you said to me EVERY DAY. The difference is that I thought you cared about me, at least as a friend. Do you think those football jocks would blink an eye if I died? It doesn't hurt as much when they say it. You cared for me and said it with the intent to hurt me. And I don't want to forgive you because here's what will happen: we will be polite at school, and then come home and be big buddies. At school, you will remain the same. You jock friends will believe that you tolerate me because you're Finn Hudson, all-around nice guy, but that I'm gay and you still think it's gross or disgusting, or whatever you think it is.

In short, I'm not going to sign up for a part time friendship that is conditional if the football team is around."

"Kurt, I—"

"Could you leave now?"

5. Go big or go home.

It's all or nothing.

That's all that went through Finn Hudson's head as he pounded down the hallways of McKinley searching for Kurt's Spanish class with a portable karaoke machine in his hand.

He opened the door to Mr. Schue's classroom. "Finn, I'm in the middle of class right now. Could you—"

"Mr. Schue, I need to say something to Kurt and I need some witnesses." Kurt sank down into his seat. Puck was in this class. So was Karovsky. And half the football team.

He set the karaoke machine on the table and pressed play, singing into the comically small microphone,

"Some say that
Time changes
Best friends can
Become strangers
But I don't want that
No not for you
If you just stay with me
We can make it through

So here we are again
Same old argument
And now I'm wondering
If things'll ever change, yeah

When will you laugh again?
Laugh like you did back when
We made noise till 3 am
And the neighbors would complain

All the things we talk about
You know they stay on my mind
All the things we laugh about
They'll bring us through it every time

Don't say a word
I know you feel the same
Just give me a sign
Say anything, say anything
Please don't walk away
I know you want to stay
Just give me a sign
Say anything, say anything"

The room was comically stunned silent like a movie. Finn nodded slightly. "Um, thanks for letting me get that out. That was for Kurt. Because I really am sorry. Thanks." His face was a deep red, and he gathered the machine and headed out of the room in shame.

Halfway down the hallway, he heard, "FINN! WAIT UP!"

He turned around. Kurt ran toward him. He stopped 2 feet in front of them, and they just looked at each other for a moment. And then Kurt threw himself forward and wrapped his arms around Finn and squeezed. "Thank you, Finn. Nobody has ever done something like that for me before."

He dropped his karaoke machine and hugged Kurt back. "So, you forgive me?"

Kurt laughed. "Is Versace fabulous?"

"I don't know, is she?"

"He." Kurt rolled his eyes. "And yes. If he were alive, he would be ruling the world."

Finn smiled at Kurt. "See you at home, weirdo?"

"Yeah, loser. Oh, and Finn?"

"Yeah?"

"Good Charlotte is SO late 90's."

Finn grinned. The old Kurt was back.