But after one look at Blaine's house, Kurt knew he was spot on. They weren't castle-by-the-sea or butler rich, but they definitely had money. Big house with a long driveway. Antique painting on the walls, and a large chandelier hanging in the foyer. The living room was humongous, with a large fireplace, and grand piano in the corner.

Kurt's jaw dropped for a moment when he saw it. It had been so long since he touched a piano. His heart began to flutter at the chance to play one again, but he quietly forced that thought from his head.

Following Blaine up the wood and marble stairs, they went down the hallway until they finally reached his room. It was a good size, full of posters, and framed pictures. There was a shelf against the wall that held several trophies, most from singing competition, and a small one for pee-wee soccer. It wasn't too mess; Kurt knew Blaine liked things in order.

Hopping on the bed, Blaine looked up and smiled. "Welcome to Casa de la Anderson." He said proudly.

Kurt smirked, taking a seat at the edge of the bed. "I will admit, it's smaller than I pictured."

Blaine frowned playfully. "Not flashy enough for ya, huh?"

"I was expecting a mansion, maybe a live in butler and maid. You know, the type of elegant wealthy people have."

"Now that's just silly," Blaine argued. "The maid comes come three times a week, which is more than enough. A live in one would just be preposterous!"

"Why, I do believe you are correct, dear sir."

Blaine straightened up, placing his arms behind his bed before lying back. "Now then my good man," he stated, mocking a British accent. "Before we drink our brandy by the pool, and head down to the country club for some golf, whatever shall we do?"

Kurt giggled, slapping his friend's leg. "You are horrible at that."

"No, I'm not! That's poppycock! You sir, are a codfish!"

"Quoting Peter Pan now, are we?"

Blaine smiled charmingly. "I always found Jeremy Sumpter adorable." He admitted. "So really, we have the entire house to ourselves. What do you wanna do?"

Kurt thought about it. Whenever he went to one of his girlfriend's houses, they'd look through magazines, talk about boys, watch sappy movies, and sing to pop songs and show tunes. Sure, he could probably do all those things with Blaine, but Kurt was sure that wasn't exactly what Blaine had in mind. There was always that piano. . . .

"I'm not sure, what do you do when one of the Warbler's come over?"

Blaine sat up in Indian style, his head cocked. "Hmm, we really never hang out at my house. We usually either talk about sports or listen to music or practice, ya know? Oh! That reminds me! I gotta get my outfit ready for Monday's show."

Hopping off the bed, Blaine scurried over to his closet, opening the door, and stepping inside. Despite himself, Kurt followed, his jaw dropped at the size of it. It was large, and had long space to hang shirts, then beside that, a place to hang pants. On the opposite side, shelves to hold jeans and tee-shirts, and along the bottom was an area for shoes. It was almost like the one he dreamed about, minus the revolving outfit organizer.

"We're being salesmen," Blaine spoke, cutting Kurt away from his fantasy. Grabbing a gray suit with matching pants, Blaine held it against himself. "What do you think?"

Kurt bit his lip, his eyes staring. The outfit wasn't horrible, so to say. It was a nice color, but it just didn't work for Blaine.

"Well?" Blaine pushed.

Kurt wanted to say something. Anything. Whether it was nice or not, just he just couldn't. He was caught between wanting to be honest and trying to be normal. Sighing, he said it was nice, looking at the shelves inside of Blaine.

Blaine gazed at him for a moment, before hanging the outfit back up. Kurt knew Blaine knew there was something up, but neither said a word. Having nothing else to do, Blaine suggested they watch a movie. He flipped through the channels until they found something decent.

For the rest of the night, while Blaine was so engrossed with Iron Man's power, Kurt mentally kicked himself. He had grown used to pushing his inner-self down, but this was one of the first times in over a year that he regretted it.