Author's note: Another fill for a prompt on LJ. Beware, this one is dark. And no, I don't hate Blaine. I kind of like him, actually (and I'm working on something longer right now where he's a good guy). He's just kind of fascinating to write in a darker light.I don't know what category to put this in. D: Enjoy.

The kid was perfect. Like innocence incarnate complete with big blue eyes and rosy, rosy cheeks.

He hadn't been fooling anyone with his attempt at a uniform-at least he had the black and red down, but every Dalton boy knows to wear the seal over his heart whenever he can; even the vests had them, so if your jacket was gone you were still in the clear. This kid, Kurt. He wasn't new. No one had ever seen him before. He didn't have the jacket or the vest or even the striped tie. But he was just what Blaine had been searching for.

Perfect.

It hadn't been hard to rope Kurt in once he'd been caught in his lie-he was bullied severely at his school, William McKinley High (who even heard of kids taking slushies to the face?)-and a few kind words here and there always drew people in, especially if they were desperate for attention like Kurt. Oh, this was too easy.

He knew Kurt was the one when he asked if all the boys at Dalton were gay. He'd looked so broken when he'd learned that the sweetest words in his universe could be "zero tolerance policy." It was hard being the only out kid at school. The bullying was getting to him-it was written all over his face. But Blaine was there. Blaine could be his big, gay mentor. His shoulder to cry on. Put all of his trust in Blaine.

Courage.

He knew he had Kurt hooked when they exchanged numbers. Kurt couldn't stay at Dalton. Couldn't afford it. And Blaine couldn't leave; it would be suspicious, especially if it looked like he was doing it for nothing more than a friend. It was only a matter of time though. Kurt was the one. He would win Kurt over with poorly-timed jokes and fashion magazines. They could harmonize together and gossip about their glee friends over coffee when the breaks in their schedules collided. It was perfect.

There was a slight hitch in the grand scheme of things with Kurt's friend-that big girl, Corvette or something or other that had to do with cars. Kurt was the one who understood cars (though his dad refused to let him have one for some reason or another; all the more reason catch rides with Blaine), not him. He thought she suspected something, but seemed distracted by something else. She wouldn't be a problem. She wouldn't suspect a thing.

Kurt told him everything. The slushies. The names. The lockers. The kiss. It was all working out so well. Trust was the name of the game. Just give it a little more time. It wasn't perfect just yet. But it would be.

And then his dad went and got married and Kurt was suddenly standing there at the entryway in his very own Dalton jacket and Blaine's heart beat faster. The money his parents had saved for their honeymoon was going toward his tuition. He would be bullied no longer. Oh yes. It had to be a sign. This was just too perfect.

He grew ever closer to Kurt. It wasn't really all that hard when they were around each other twenty-four seven, and he was sort of the only person Kurt knew in his shiny new home. Or at least, Blaine was the only person Kurt trusted.

Courage.

Trust.

Patience.

It was almost perfect.

Kurt was lucky enough to land a room without a roommate (middle-of-the-year transfers did have a few perks after all) and they would dance together until the wee hours of the morning, no worries about waking anyone up, drunk on one another's presence.

It was December when he decided the time was right. He'd do it the night before Kurt was supposed to leave for home to spend the holidays with his dad and stepmother and ex-crush-turned-stepbrother. Their first Christmas together, he'd said with a sad smile.

Don't look so sad. Angels never look so sad. One last song before you go, he'd suggested, and Kurt had relented. Much as he loved his family, he wasn't exactly eager to go home. It was easy. The liquid had folded and disappeared neatly in the glass when Blaine added the drinks. It would be fast. Like going to sleep.

They were young and restless and in love and Kurt downed his drink quickly, afraid of being late and upsetting his dad. Blaine merely sipped.

Kurt was suddenly dizzy and needed to sit down. His cheeks were flushed with that rosy pink color Blaine loved. He said his head hurt and maybe he should wait a little bit before heading home. He didn't want to wreck the car-his dad had finally let him drive it again, though Blaine never learned why it had been taken in the first place. He claimed to feel strange, not quite himself, and Blaine saw the fear splashed across his face as he fell to the floor, eyes wide open in shock. This wasn't supposed to happen. Kurt was supposed to be happy.

Blaine knelt to the floor and frowned at Kurt's face. It wasn't right. Everything had to be perfect. He closed the boy's eyes and mouth. There. Much better. Almost like he was sleeping. Perfect. He lifted Kurt onto the vacant bed and sat down beside him.

Everything was just right. Everything was perfect. He downed the last of his drink and waited for his heart to burst. Everything was perfect, almost like a dream And they two would be young and in love forever.