Blaine's house was big. Sometimes big homes can seem lonely and empty, even when they're full of people. Or they'll have elaborate decorations that can't be touched, becoming a mini museum with beds. But, Blaine's house was different. It was homey, a big lot of homey. Every room had its own color scheme, the walls painted to match— pastels in the living room, a light honey yellow color on the walls of the halls that complimented the wooden banister and stairs, leading up the stairs was a wall sprinkled with pictures of Blaine and his family and the Warblers and even a few New Direction pictures and him with his band. The whole house smelled like Blaine and chocolate cake.

While Blaine worked on the lasagna, Toronto insisted on giving Kurt a tour of Blaine's house. Every door was gray, instead of white or brown, and they looked like they belonged in a castle, which Kurt loved. His excited son dragged him from the living room to the office— Blaine transformed the office into a music room, with white expo paint on the walls, turning them all into giant white boards— to Blaine's tidy room to the small library and all of the bathrooms. Of all the doors they passed, only one remained unopened by Toronto's tiny hands.

"What's in there?" Kurt asked.

Toronto looked at the door, his eyes wide and curious. He shrugged, "Blaine won't tell me. He said we aren't allowed in there." Kurt nodded curiously. They'd seen his bedroom, his office that had been turned into a music room—what else could he be hiding? "But," his son looked at him with a wicked spark in his eye, which Kurt could only describe as Santana. "We could peek..." Kurt glanced down stairs. God, why was he actually considering this?

"Dinner!" If it weren't for Blaine's voice calling upstairs, Kurt probably would've opened the door.

"Coming!" Kurt called back to him, leading his son down the narrow steps.

Kurt's first thought when he got into the lavishly furnished dinning room was 'he set the table; he used to always sets their table.' It was silly to be grinning over the fact that Blaine's formulaic table skills were stilled ingrained in his mind. His mom had probably drilled them into his head centuries ago. Kurt shouldn't flatter himself, but he did anyways.

Blaine pulled out two chairs, for Kurt and Toronto, before seating himself. "As promised, my world famous lasagna!" He announced.

"It looks delicious and it smells even better." Kurt said, realizing how hungry he'd been. God, he missed Blaine's lasagna; almost as much as he missed Blaine.

"Let's hope it tastes just as great." Blaine smiled, shoveling a mouth full off his plate.

They ate. Blaine was the same; always the fastest eater Kurt had ever seen, while still being really cute and proper about it. Kurt has managed to get at least half of the tomatoe sauce on his body. They'd already moved onto the cake, having discussed their day, when Toronto spoke up.

"What does world famous mean?" He asked in his loudest inside voice.

Blaine grinned warmly at the boy, "it means your dad loves it."

"Does that mean Adam Levine is world famous?"

Kurt's face turned redder than the maroon walls surrounding them. "Oh, god, Toronto. No, don't say that." The small boy only shrugged.

"Nah, that's just from years of me drilling Maroon 5 lyrics into his head." Blaine chuckled, flashing Kurt a highly bemused smile.

"They're awful." Kurt smiled, remembering the dreadful days he'd wake up to Blaine blasting Sunday Morning over his shower.

"You loved it." Blaine teased.

"No," Kurt chuckled, "you loved it. I just loved you."

Blaine knitted his lips together and looked at his food. "It's kinda the same thing." He shrugged.

"Well, uh," Kurt cleared his throat and looked at his son. Toronto had been quirked watching the exchange, with his eyes wide and intruigued. "It's getting late, so..."

"Right, right. Gotta get the little one to bed." Blaine agreed.

"No, I'm not tired. Daddy, I'm not tired." Toronto protested, while Blaine showed them out. "Blaine, tell him I'm not tired." He whined.

"Okay, Toronto, we need to get out of here before you have a temper tantrum." Kurt said, scooping his son into his arms. "Thank you, Blaine, dinner was great."

"Yeah, anytime. I'll see you tomorrow." Blaine said, giving him a small wave.

Kurt waved back, stepping out of the house with his child in his hands. "Goodnight!"