Blaine grumbled to himself as he angrily flipped through the pages of the recipe book that had been in his family for generations. 'Recipes for all the children of Hades' was inscribed on the cover.
"Deep fried? Well, Sam is from the south…" he mused, a triangular-shaped eyebrow cocked, while shaking his head, his loose afro bouncing slightly as he did so. Blaine has some issues, to say the least. You see, Blaine Anderson was in love once with one Sam Evans. Sam was just over 6'2 with warm brown eyes, light colored hair, and plump, pouty lips. He was always concerned with how he looked and worked out religiously which gave him a killer body. Sam was empathetic, passionate, supportive, smart (despite his dyslexia), and Blaine loved him to bits. Blaine would have done anything he could for Sam, but what Blaine just couldn't do was change who he was. Blaine was a cannibal, and, when Sam found out (by accident, of course, Blaine couldn't tell him) he promptly jilted the curly-haired flesh-feaster.
That's okay though, Blaine is totally over Sam. Blaine has moved on to a well maintained, admittedly sassy, beautiful, tall guy called Kurt. Kurt Hummel was wonderful, and Blaine was smitten. With Blaine's unfortunate luck, obviously, there were… complications in his quest to court Kurt—one big complication, actually. Sam.
After the breakup with Blaine, Sam quickly moved on. Sam, with his bright blonde hair, sun-kissed skin, and gloriously well defined abs, was one of the most eligible bachelors in all the land. He could easily have anyone his heart desired without as much as a snap of his fingers. Sam's heart desired Kurt Hummel; Kurt couldn't resist (duh). Sam and Kurt were hardcore in love and fall more so in love again and again each day.
Despite Kurt and Sam's togetherness (and Kurt's general lack of interest in Blaine), Blaine is convinced he is going to be with Kurt. In order to do this, he decided, he must rid the world of that pesky, yet deliciously hunky Sam Evans. And now, after hours of searching and much deliberation, Blaine had the perfect recipe to accomplish this with.
"I've found it, Pav!" Blaine shouted to his pet parrot of many years, Pavarotti. "Oh, silly me," Blaine verbalized playfully. "I forgot to tell you." Blaine spun to Pavarotti. "I'M GOING TO MURDER SAM EVANS TONIGHT AND BAKE HIM IN A SAMMY POT PIE!" Blaine giggled wildly to himself, wringing his hands evilly as he exited the room.
Pavarotti waited until Blaine left to show his horror; his feathers of all shades of green ruffled in sign of unmistakable shock. He almost squawked out loud. I've got to warn Sam the bird thought. See, since Blaine has had Pavarotti for years, the bird was around while Blaine and Sam dated. Sam always spoke with the bird and fed him bits of graham cracker or the occasional cashew, so Pavarotti soon developed a liking for the blonde boy. And, as loyal of a pet as he was, Pavarotti just couldn't let Blaine kill and cook Sam.
Pavarotti wasted no time in staring his brief journey. He flew out of the conveniently open window and set out for Sam's flat. Because Blaine was a creepy stalker type, he moved close to Sam when they first got together and never bothered moving afterwards. The wind whipped every which way so, because of the unfavorable weather conditions, the trip took about ten minutes. Pavarotti landed in front of Sam's door and scuttled through the doggie door.
"RAAAAAAAWWWWWHK! RAAAAAAAWWWWWHK!" the parrot screeched urgently. Sam jumped up in alarm from the couch where he and Kurt were cuddled.
"Pavarotti!" Sam all but screamed. "What are you doing here?" While there was no problem between Pavarotti and Sam, the bird belonged to Blaine and the couple didn't exactly end on good terms.
Pavarotti's neck jerked spasmodically, as it did when he was nervous. "It's Blaine," he squawked. "He's planning to kill you!"
Before Sam could respond, Kurt spoke up in his soprano voice. "Wait, Blaine as in your hobbit of an ex?" Kurt sounded unamused in a jealous kind of way. He was a diva, after all—though it should be mentioned that Blaine isn't actually a hobbit, he's just really short. Sam detected his boyfriend's jealousy and looked at him incredulously. Sam's life was just threatened and the first thing Kurt things about is that his ex is mentioned? Uncool.
"What are you talking about, Pav?" Sam asked. "How do you know this?"
Pavarotti went on to explain Blaine's affection for Kurt (who audibly gagged at the mention of it), his plan to eradicate Sam in order to get closer to the diva, and how Blaine prepared to cook Sam into a pot pie. Without taking even a moment to think about what he'd just been told, he spoke—he was a take-action kind of guy like that.
"When? Where?" Sam asked with a look on his face that said he was formulating a plan. If birds could look embarrassed, Pavarotti did.
He dug his clawed toe into the carpet. "Tonight, but I didn't actually stay long enough to figure out more than that…" Pavarotti sounded a little ashamed.
"It's okay, Pav," Sam assured him, "You've been more than enough help. Thank you."
"Yeah," Kurt chimed in, "thanks, Pavarotti. You probably just saved Samuel's life."
"Any time," Pavarotti responded sarcastically. "What are you going to do?"
Sam bit his oversized lip determinedly. "I have a plan," he announced with just maybe a dejected undertone. "And, Pav, I'm going to need your help again."
Blaine was a little shocked when Pavarotti had come barging in the kitchen, disturbing his Sammy Pot Pie preparation, squawking and screeching that he had set everything up just "perfectly". Pavarotti went on to say that he had ensured (by means unquestioned and altogether unmentioned) that Sam would be Lava Springs tonight at exactly 8 o'clock, and that whatever Blaine's original plan was that it couldn't be nearly as "perfect" as his. Pavarotti was overacting a lot, but Blaine was buying it so the parrot felt a sense of accomplishment—a long with a twinge of guilt. Blaine didn't even thank Pavarotti before rushing out the door, realizing it was seven thirty already.
Lava Springs was appropriately named; it was literally a river of lava that almost nearly surround an area of land that was half craggy geode, half lush, green grass with flowers and sprawling trees. As the son of Hades (the god of the underworld and earth and minerals and such), Lava Springs was one of Blaine favorite places in all the land. When Blaine first arrived at Lava Springs, he saw Sam standing in the meadow of flowers and trees next to the edge of the cliff that fell into the lava. This is just too perfect Blaine thought maniacally.
As Blaine quickly approached Sam (only just over a foot away), he saw something he didn't expect to—Kurt stepped out from behind a tree to take his place beside Sam. To say Blaine was utterly shocked would be the understatement of the year; he nearly tripped over his own jaw.
Confusion flooded Blaine's face. "What…. how did you…" he stammered, walking around them trying to get away—he could tell something bad was going to happen. Walking around them didn't really work, and all he managed to do was put himself between them and the lava. Then realization struck. Pavarotti was behind this. Pavarotti his pet, his friend, his companion had betrayed him. Before he could get to worked up over being metaphorically stabbed in the back by a parrot, Kurt spoke. And when Kurt spoke, people listened… mostly because he had an amusingly high pitched voice.
"What exactly did you think would happen, Blaine?" Kurt questioned dubiously.
He said my name! was pretty much the only thing Blaine could think of at first.
"Well, I, uh, I mean…. I just thought… and you're so… uhm," Blaine faltered. Kurt scoffed. Sam started to say something but barely got out half a syllable before Kurt cut him off.
"Did you think you could just off Sam, and I'd be all yours?" Kurt seethed. His cheeks flushed red with anger, and Blaine's with embarrassment. "I have standards, you know!" Kurt bellowed, closing in, less than a foot from the shorter boy.
"Kurt," Blaine managed. "I love-"
"Don't say it!" Kurt interrupted. "Don't you dare say it. You don't love me. Loving me would mean wanting me to be happy, and Sam makes me happy. You don't even know me."
"I just-" Blaine started to protest. Sam sprung forward.
"You were going to kill me, Blaine!" Sam screamed. "And bake me in a pie! You don't get to talk to him. You're insane!" He gestured toward Kurt.
Complete and unmistakable terror stamped Blaine's face as Kurt and Sam step toward him. He knew what they were going to do. A little piece of him couldn't really blame them, but the rest of him was still appalled that Kurt didn't want him but Sam instead.
"I.. I'm sorry," Blaine said softly. The couple stepped even closer, causing Blaine to back up until he was at the edge of the cliff, threatening to fall off into the bubbling lava.
"We're not," Kurt responded. Then it happened. Kurt and Sam both outstretched a hand and shoved Blaine off the cliff and into the lava that awaited him below. As soon as Blaine fell over the side, flailing his limbs wildly as he went, the boys backed away from the edge of the cliff. The pair turned to walk away. Kurt sighed and shuddered. Sam put his arm around his boyfriend's shoulder and said simply, "Well, no more CanniBlaine."
Kurt stayed at Sam's that night. Neither one of them really wanted to be alone after what had happened that day. Hours after Kurt had fallen asleep, Sam was still awake. He couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't quite over. He went to the kitchen to get a glass of water and saw something on the counter that hadn't been their earlier. It was a letter that read "Kurt" in a recognizable, elegant script on the front. Sam then realized why the handwriting seemed so familiar… it was Blaine's.