"I think our other house was bigger," Blaine murmurs, taking in the house skeptically.

"Blaine Anderson, you get that sour look off of your face," his mother reprimands. "We're living here no matter what you say."

Blaine huffs out annoyingly and looks around, searching for the boxes marked as his. "Mom, where's my stuff?"

"That's already up in your room, dear. Everything is already in the designated rooms, all we need is to arrange them," Blaine's mother, Eve says.

"Right. Which one's mine again?" Blaine asks.

"Last door on the right."

"Right," Blaine repeats, climbing up the stairs and going down the hallway to his assigned bedroom. He opens the door and takes the room in.

It's a little bit smaller than his old room, but it's okay. Blaine always thought that his old room was way too big anyways. The walls are a pale green and all of his furniture is already moved in, along with various boxes with his name on them. That in no way makes it his room yet. The walls while pretty are still very much naked, his dresser is bare and his bed is still missing the sheets.

Blaine sighs and makes to open the first box on his bed when he hears muffled music coming through his open window. Curious, Blaine thinks as he walks up to the window and sees the most beautiful creature in the house across from him.

The boy doesn't seem to notice that the blinds to his room are open and seems unaware that Blaine can clearly see into his room, where the boy is dancing around to what sounds like Lady Gaga. Blaine is mystified by his unabashed demeanor. How he's just dancing like there's no tomorrow. How he's expressing himself through the music.

That and the fact that the boy is pretty good looking.

He's really gorgeous actually, Blaine decides the longer he looks at him. He looks tall and lithe, with pale creamy looking skin and perfectly coiffed hair. When he turns around Blaine holds in a gasp as he sees the boy's eyes. His striking blue eyes that are visible even from the small distance.

"Blaine!"

Blaine whips his head around the same time he drops to the floor, some wild part of him certain that the beautiful blue eyed boy must have heard his mother shriek and turned to see Blaine staring at him like the creepy creep he is.

"What are you doing on the floor?" Eve, asks.

"What?"

"Why are you hugging the floor?" Eve asks again, placing the small box in her hands, labeled bowties, on the dresser.

"I just…tripped," Blaine says, standing back up.

Eve gives her son a skeptical look, but nonetheless decides to drop it. "Well, you left your bowties downstairs." She points at the box. "Do you need any help arranging your room?"

"No. I'm good," Blaine says, trying to resist turning back to look and see if the boy was still dancing. The music is still going, but that doesn't necessarily mean that his movements had. "You can go now."

"Geez, alright, alright. I'll leave you alone to wallow by yourself," Eve says derisively, and walks down the hall.

Blaine sighs deeply, and turns around, half expecting to find the beautiful blue eyed boy staring at him, but instead Blaine sees him doing the exact same thing he was doing before Blaine's mom came in. Dancing around his room. Only this time instead of dancing to Marry The Night he's dancing to Government Hooker, and it's increased in sex appeal greatly. His movements are a lot more sensual, his hands roaming his body. He even goes as far as to remove his shirt so that he's left in a white wife-beater.

Blaine doesn't even know what possesses him to grab a chair and bring it up to the window. He doesn't know why he leans forward, resting his elbows on the windowsill. He doesn't know why this all intrigues him. Yes, the obvious answer would be that Blaine is a gay man, and whether the boy next door is gay or not, he's hot. And he's dancing around in his room practically half naked. But the truth of the matter is that the boy fascinates Blaine. Even though he doesn't even know anything about him other than the fact that he likes to dance around his room with the blinds open.

"Who are you, mystery boy?" Blaine asks himself.

Blaine can just watch the boy dance all day long. Plans on it, actually, but five minutes after Blaine took a seat to observe him more closely, the boy turns the music down and opens the door, answering to whomever called him. With a sigh, the boy puts his shirt back on, turns off the music and walks out of the room.

Blaine sort of wishes that he wouldn't have left, then immediately takes it back. It's just creepy to be watching someone you haven't met the way Blaine was. It's even creepier to dig through one of your boxes to find the pair of binoculars that your father got you to look into the boys vacated room to try to find out more about him, but Blaine isn't even thinking straight right now.

He finds the binoculars and resumes his seat on the chair by the window, breathing deeply before raising the binoculars to his eyes. He sees a shelf on the far side of the room that contains a trophy's. Blaine can't make out what it's for, but it looks like there's a small golden cheerleader on the top of it. Being a male cheerleader would explain that body. Wait a second, what? Blaine shouldn't be thinking about that boy's body. He already feels like a huge creep by looking into his room when he's not there, he does not need to add being a sexual creep to it.

Blaine keeps on looking around the boy's room, noticing how clean it all is. Everything matches in some way, and it lets Blaine know that this kid is very into everything looking its nicest. The pictures on the wall are all aligned, the two chairs in the room are placed in a way where they're not in the way of anything, but still in a position where if people were to walk in they would notice. The boy's laptop was perched on what looked like a magnificent bed, and even when it's been tossed there carelessly it still looked like it was meant to be there. The only thing that looks like it doesn't go with the room is the Wicked poster taped behind the boy's door.

So he liked musical theater. That alone makes Blaine wonder if the boy's gay. Obviously no straight teenage boy would have his room in such a neat display. And none of them would openly post a Wicked poster to their door.

Blaine wants to meet this mysterious boy. He wants to ask so many questions, but he thinks that going over there so soon after staring into his room intently is a bad idea.

Sigh.

So Blaine will play the waiting game. As much as it's going to kill him he's going to wait…and probably study this mystical creature even more.

Oh, what the hell is he thinking? He cannot do this anymore. He might as well lock up his binoculars in the attic because he is not going to stare at the boy next door through his window. It'll just make him feel like that kid from Disturbia. And that kid got into a whole bunch of trouble…that involved dealing with a killer. No. Blaine is not going to spy on his neighbor anymore.

With one final look at the boys room, Blaine sets the binoculars down, and makes to begin unpacking his boxes. Maybe a bit of organizing will get his mind off of the boy with pretty blue eyes.

Except that it doesn't really get Blaine's mind away from the boy. Instead he thinks about him even more. Throughout the entire time Blaine was fixing his belongings into his new room he found himself thinking about the boy next door. About the way he was dancing, and he really needs to stop doing this because he's not supposed to be the creepy neighbor. But god, Blaine is fooling himself if tries to convince himself that the boy isn't that cute. He's really cute. He's gorgeous, and the more Blaine thinks about him the more Blaine finds new things about his features that he likes. He likes the way the boy as so graceful even when dancing to Lady Gaga. He likes the way the boy would bite his lip whenever he tried to appear sexy. He liked the way the boy would shake his head afterwards, probably deciding that he didn't look as sexy as he felt on the inside. It almost made Blaine want to open his window and scream that the boy was sexy, but then again that would make Blaine seem crazy.

After Blaine finishes his room, it's well past sundown and he's missed lunch, so his stomach is snarling at him for some food. He walks downstairs to find his parents putting the final touches on the kitchen, two boxes of pizza on the table, and a bottle of iced tea beside it.

"Is this dinner?" Blaine asks.

"Yeah, sorry it's not extravagant, but you know pizza is typical moving say food," Blaine's father, Michael Anderson, says.

"No, it's fine. Pizza's fine," Blaine says, opening a box and retrieving a slice. "So are we all moved in?"

"Not yet," Eve says, placing the last bottle of spices on the spice rack. "There. Now we're moved in. happy moving day, family," she cries excitedly, and Blaine has to crack a smile at his mom's vigor.

"I say we toast to it," Michael says, pouring each of them a glass of iced tea. "To our new house, hopefully we won't mess you up too bad."

"Cheers," Blaine and Eve say, clinking their glasses before taking a long swig.

"Remind me that I have to go grocery shopping tomorrow," Eve states, glancing at the refrigerator sadly.

"I'll go with you," Blaine offers. "I want to get to know the city better."

"Alright, Blaine. Tomorrow we'll go grocery shopping. Good thing it's a Sunday. Now, do you have any homework?"

"No, finished it all on Friday after school," Blaine says, sighing in relief. He's actually really glad that he finished his homework before today, because he's pretty sure that he wouldn't be able to focus on it. Not after what he witnessed today.

Eve nods and takes a bite out of her pizza, effectively ending the conversation.