to all sides, only stars
Cutting Ties

Fire and Silk Verse, in which Blaine is a fire-eater and Kurt is a silk flyer in the circus

All good things must come to an end. Or, at least, people will try and end them.

"It’s so cute!" Kurt giggled, laying on Blaine’s chest and playing with his curls.

"And it’s getting too long," Blaine grumbled. "I should probably cut it at some point."

"No, keep it," Kurt insisted, twisting a curl around his finger. "And when it gets long enough, you can put it in a super sexy ponytail."

"Oh hush," Blaine grinned, fingers flying up to mess with Kurt’s coif. Kurt yelled and they rolled over, laughing. 

Blaine stood in front of the mirror, staring at his reflection blankly. It was nearly two in the morning.

Slowly, he raised the scissors to his hair and cut each lock, letting them all fall into the cracked white porcelain of the sink. 


"I love these, you know," Blaine said softly, trailing a finger across the swirly iridescent scales and feathers across Kurt’s back.

"I love yours too," Kurt mumbled sleepily, bringing a hand up to the right side of Blaine’s chest to touch the head of the dragon briefly. "Very fitting." 

Blaine chuckled softly, wrapping an arm around Kurt’s waist and leaning back. “Have you ever thought of getting another one?”

Kurt hesitated before adopting a nonchalant tone. “I mean sure, objectively I suppose. Don’t really know what I’d get.”

"Yeah…" Blaine echoed. "Me too." 

Kurt uselessly stirred his mocha as he sat at the Lima Bean—his one respite from the jocks who were apparently too cool to ever go near a coffee shop, whatever that meant—and doodled on his paper. 

It was a rough sketch of the tattoo on his back and the flaming flower that he’d wanted to add to it.

And then it hit him all at once how stupid he’d been. Running away to the circus—despite the things that had happened—and falling for someone older and assuming that he’d just live out the rest of his life like it was a fairytale or something stupid like that.

He really needed to let it go.

"What are you drawing? It’s really pretty."

Kurt jumped looking up. A college-aged looking blonde guy was staring down at his drawing. Kurt opened his mouth to reply before considering briefly and shutting the notebook, turning his full attention to the guy.

"Nothing. Well, nothing important, really." He was supposed to be moving on, right? Why not take a leap of faith. He stuck his hand out. "I’m Kurt."

"Hello Kurt, the artist of nothing important, really,” the guy grinned, and Kurt was instantly charmed. “I’m Jeremiah.” 

Months Past

Fire and Silk Verse, in which Blaine is a fire-eater and Kurt is a silk flyer in the circus

Summary: Two months have passed since Kurt and Blaine have seen each other


Kurt’s breath whooshed out of his lungs as he turned, clutching his binder tightly to his chest.

Blaine stood at the end of the hall, hair tousled, leather jacket unzipped, eyes alight with hope.

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Sunbeams and Violet Streams

Fire and Silk Verse, in which Blaine is a fire-eater and Kurt is a silk flyer in the circus

Sam feels a weight on his shoulders. Mercedes offers to carry some of it.

Two hundred thirty-one, two hundred thirty-two, two hundred thirty-three…

On and on he went, doing handstand push-ups, arms sinking his body down, headfirst to the ground before they pushed him back up again. And again. And again. And again.

He hadn’t been able to help Blaine and now Blaine was gone. He hadn’t been able to help Kurt while he was crying and apparently Kurt was leaving now as well to go live with his dad. He couldn’t do anything right, the only thing he could make sure he got right was his exercise routine, but no this wasn’t right either, he needed to go harder, go faster, go longer, look perfect, make sure that he wouldn’t let anyone else down—


The loud voice sent a shock through his system and his arms gave out, causing him to go crashing to the ground. His face clenched against the hard earth as “not good enough” still rang through his head.

"Sam!" Hands were grabbing him and pulling him up and a voice was asking him if he was alright. He focused in and it was Mercedes, her hair up in a bun which meant that she’d been sleeping recently.

"I’m sorry," he murmured, slightly dizzy. "I didn’t mean to wake you—"

"It’s fine, I haven’t been able to sleep all night anyways," she said dismissively. "But what on earth happened to you? You’re drenched in sweat…"

"Been practicing," he said distractedly. "Since I got back. Have to keep going…"

"Sam, that was hours ago!" Mercedes protested. "You’ll make yourself sick! Here, let’s just get you to bed."

"No, I have to practice," Sam shook his head. "I—"

"Here just rest a b—"

"No!" He yelled. "I don’t get to rest! I have to make sure it’s right, I have to make sure it’s perfect because Blaine left and Kurt’s leaving so without them I have to be perfect and—and—" He broke off as the sobs finally choked up his throat and his head fell into his hands, his overexerted body trembling.

Instantly, he felt warm arms wrap around him as Mercedes coaxed him into her lap and held him tight, rocking back and forth.

"It’ll be okay, Sam," she said quietly. "We’ll get along fine without them, and we’ll be ready when they get back. You know they’ll come back."

"How can you be so sure?" he whispered.

She rolled her eyes. “Have you seen those two around each other? Please, I give it a month tops.”

Sam nodded after a pause, sniffing. “Sorry. I didn’t meant to break down on you or anything.”

"It’s fine," she said gently. "And I’m pretty sure I’ve owed you since Chicago."

"That was different," he protested, but she shook her head. 

"It was the same," she said, her voice growing faint as memories of the windy city washed over the both of them. "And anyways, it’s perfectly human. There’s no need to apologize."

A silence fell over them as she held him close, still gently rocking back and forth as the sun slowly crept up between the trees.

Mercedes began singing softly. It wasn’t like when she performed with her voice, Sam noted. She didn’t have her glass jars or bottles, so there were no echo effects or pitch switches. Instead it was gentle and raw and washed over him, drowning out the voices in his head and reminding him of those few summer nights in Chicago.

"Looking out across the morning, the city’s heart begins to beat. Reaching out, I touch her shoulder, I’m dreaming of the street. If they say why, why, tell ‘em that it’s human nature. Why, why, does he do me that way? I like living this way…" 

Sins Of My Youth

Fire and Silk Verse, in which Blaine is a fire-eater and Kurt is a silk flyer in the circus

Blaine did stuff. Things.

Sam stared at him. “What?”

"Nothing," Blaine shook his head, turning to shove clothes back into his pack. "Never mind, it doesn’t matter—"

"Doesn’t matter?" Sam said incredulously, turning him back around. "Blaine, you just told me you killed someone, that’s not something you can just brush off!" 

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Have A Little Faith

Fire and Silk Verse, in which Blaine is a fire-eater and Kurt is a silk flyer in the circus

Joe goes to a local church to pray for his friend.

"Did you hear?" Fiona asked, adjusting her lipgloss in the bathroom mirror. "Apparently there was an accident at the circus yesterday so we won’t be picketing anymore tonight."

"Oh thank god," Kitty groaned, fluffing her ponytail. "There are better things to do with my Saturday nights than protesting a bunch of godless carnies."

"Kitty!" Sarah admonished. 

"It’s true," Kitty shrugged dispassionately as she deemed herself perfection in the mirror. "Now can we roll and actually do something fun in this town for a change?"


Ten minutes later, Kitty was cursing herself and walking back to the sanctuary to find her bible, when she saw an unfamiliar figure sitting in one of the front pews. Frowning, she picked up her bible from the sixth row and walked forward, ready for a confrontation.

"The sanctuary’s closed," she said sharply as she folded her arms across her bible across her chest.

The man—boy really, he didn’t look that much older than her—looked up in surprise, his dark eyes widening. “Oh. Sorry. I didn’t know that God had office hours.”

She almost found herself smiling, but quickly batted it down. “Whatever Bob Marley’s Slightly Less Ethnic Cousin, communion was two hours ago so you’re not getting any free handouts. Scoot.”

"I’m not homeless," he frowned. "I’m from the carnival."

"Sorry. Correction: Homeless and godless."

"I wouldn’t say that," he said with a small smile. "We’re a band of misfits traveling from town to town showing others our passions." He turned to look at the cross at the head of the sanctuary. "I think that’s a very Christian ideal." 

"Not when you’re selling your bodies and desecrating them for the sake of entertainment," Kitty argued, perturbed by this stranger that was invading her sacred space. "How’s that even remotely godlike?"

"Well, first off all, we sell skills, not our bodies," the boy corrected gently. "But regardless, Jesus hung out with the dregs of society, so shouldn’t you, by extension, do the same? Where’s your Christian charity?"

Kitty clenched her teeth as his grinned turned wolfish.

"And I assume by "desecration", you mean the tattoos we all get when we join."

"Your body is God’s temple," Kitty said, getting back on familiar footing. "You dishonor God by marring it."

"Actually, I think I’m honoring God," he said, lifting up his shirt. Kitty had a protest on her lips, but she made no move to look away. Instead, she leaned over with a slight frown as she read the words.

“‘I will love thee O Lord, My Strength’,” she murmured.

"It’s Psalm—"

"Eighteen, I know," she said, straightening up uncomfortably, feeling a pang of disappointment—that she’d never admit to anyone—when he put his shirt back down. She cleared her throat. "So what are you doing here then?"

His smile turned grim. “There was an accident during a performance last night. One of my friends got hurt and he’s in the hospital. I thought I’d ask the Lord to look over him.”

Kitty nodded slowly before tentatively sliding into the pew next to him. “I’ll pray with you, if you like.” He looked at her in surprise and she quickly amended. “I mean, I’m head of the youth prayer comity so it’s my job to facilitate and make sure that—”

"I’d love it if you would, thank you," he interrupted quietly. "I’m Joe."

She looked over at him, a half smile fluttering about her lips. “Kitty.”

One Eye Open, One Eye Closed

Fire and Silk Verse, in which Blaine is a fire-eater and Kurt is a silk flyer in the circus

Meanwhile, at the hospital…

Everything was black and cloying and smokey and oh god it burned his lungs so bad and he was sweating but it was too hot way too hot why was it so hot—

"Put him under! He’s going to aggravate his wounds!"

"Alright, let’s give him an infusion of—"

And then it was dark again.


Jumping. He was jumping. Not flying, though he’d thought that he could fly for a while but no, this was jumping, because he didn’t have wings no matter what was on his back, and there was a chance he could—

He was falling.

He sat straight up, looking wildly around the unfamiliar room and screamed and then there was someone (Mercedes?) there as well and people in white came in but he couldn’t stop screaming because he couldn’t stop falling—


He didn’t know what time it was when he woke up, but it was bright.


Jesse was with him when the nurse came in.

He’d been told what happened from three different perspectives, none of them Blaine.

So he didn’t really take any of it in.

One second he’d been flying.

Then the next he’d been falling.


Kurt blinked out of his reverie and looked up at the nurse, a hesitant smile on his face. “Yes?”

"You have another visitor," she smiled.

Jesse sent him a look, which he promptly ignored, heart racing as the man walked into the room.

His heart froze and a breath gusted out of him. “Dad?”

Run Run Run

Fire and Silk Verse, in which Blaine is a fire-eater and Kurt is a silk flyer in the circus

Blaine plans to leave.

He just grabbed a spacious pack that he could strap to his back. There wasn’t much he needed to bring. Clothes. Some of the extra cash he had stashed. He looked hesitantly at the pile of matchboxes he had next to his bed, and the other ones that littered the sand, but he shook his head.

No more fire.

Not again.

He grabbed his thick waterproof hiking boots and pulled them on.

"What the hell are you doing, man?"

Blaine paused, but didn’t turn to look at Sam. He just shoved his clothes as far into the pack as he could and zipped it up. “Leaving.”

"But why?" Sam said, pushing his way into the tent and putting a hand on Blaine’s shoulder, turning him. "Dude, you can’t leave."

"I have to," Blaine said distractedly as he reached over and grabbed his coat. "I need to get as far away from here as possible—"

"We’re not going to let you do that," Sam said impatiently as he tried to take the coat from Blaine. "You’re family now, man, and family has to stick together. Especially since Kurt’s in the hospital. What, you’re just going to leave and let him wake up to you gone?"

"He’ll be better off if I leave, Sam," Blaine sighed, trying to yank his coat back. "He’s the reason I can’t stay. I can’t hurt him again!"

"Dude,  what happened last night wasn’t your fault!"

"Yes it was!" Blaine yelled. "Okay? I already know how this is going to go down and I have to leave, it can’t happen again, he can’t find out—"

"Dude-Dude!" Sam grabbed both of his shoulders, shaking him slightly. "Calm down! What can’t he find out?"

"I…" Blaine blinked the tears out of his eyes, trying to focus on Sam. "I…I killed someone." 


Fire and Silk Verse, in which Blaine is a fire-eater and Kurt is a silk flyer in the circus

Blaine spends the night by Kurt’s hospital bed.

By four in the morning, the rest of the troupe had gone back to camp to sleep and prepare visiting shifts for the next day as well as handling clean-up for the big tent. The next three performances had been canceled. 

Blaine stayed next to Kurt’s bed, quietly holding his hand, the only sound permeating the room a steady beep that tracked Kurt’s heart.

Kurt had sustained a broken leg, a cracked pelvis, four broken ribs, a concussion, several burns, countless bruises, and he’d nearly fractured his spine, not to mention the severe body trauma. 

The doctors had said that they’d been unable to keep him awake longer than a minute because of the screaming and thrashing, so he was in a medically-induced coma so that he could sleep.

Blaine stared at Kurt, unable to un-see the horrific chain of events that had led to this exact moment.

And the worst part was that he already knew how this would end from prior experience. 

Kurt would wake up and well…he wouldn’t hate him, because he was Kurt, but he would never see Blaine the same way.

And Blaine was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to take that.

He already couldn’t take the fact that he’d nearly gotten a sixteen year old killed. 

There was something he wanted to say to Kurt, something he’d been planning on saying for a while, but he couldn’t now. It just seemed…suddenly hollow. Like a plea. Or a bargain.

So instead, when six o’clock rolled around and Mercedes came to take over, he merely leant down and kissed Kurt softly on the cheek, whispering, “Goodbye.”

Then he headed back to the circus. He had some packing to do. 


Fire and Silk Verse, in which Blaine is a fire-eater and Kurt is a silk flyer in the circus

The fall. 

Blaine stared at the grainy white hospital wall across the hall from him, one brief moment in time flashing through his head. 

The memory wasn’t whole, it was disjointed. Like pictures placed in chronological order in his mind, but the brief seconds between when they were taken were utterly lost to him.


Kurt had jumped. Blaine had tried to yell.


Kurt’s hand reached the silk. Blaine had taken off across the sand, screaming Kurt’s name.


The silk had torn completely. The sand was burning the bottom of Blaine’s bare feet.


Kurt had twisted through the air like a bird who’s wing had been injured. A flaming silk curtain had come out of nowhere and impeded Blaine.


Blaine crashed through the curtain, fire licking his sides as he skidded across the sand, feeling his feet scrape and become bloody, the burning sand imbedding into his raw flesh.


Blaine dove in an attempt to catch Kurt, but to no avail. He’d fallen too fast. Kurt hit the ground hard and Blaine skidded next to him on the burning sand, the swirling silk falling down on top of them. 


"Are you all here for Kurt Hummel?"

Blaine lifted his head and scrambled to his feet, along with the others as they all nodded.

The nurse smiled comfortingly at them. “My name’s Carole. I’ll take you to him.” 

Picking Up The Pieces

Fire and Silk Verse, in which Blaine is a fire-eater and Kurt is a silk flyer in the circus

The aftermath…

"I’m sorry," the doctor said calmly, placing a firm hand on Blaine’s shoulder.

"What do you mean?" Blaine frowned, looking back at Kurt who was lying motionless in the hospital bed. "No no—" he stumbled backwards, grasping Kurt’s wrist tightly, feeling the weak pulse. "No, he’s still alive he’s…he’s…"

"Don’t worry son," the man said, placing a calming hand on his shoulder. "It’s alright, okay? He’s going to pull through."

Blaine breathed out heavily, squeezing Kurt’s wrist tighter. “Thank god,” he whispered, his eyes sliding shut. “Oh, thank god.”

"But there were some complications," the doctor said solemnly, looking down at his clipboard. 

Blaine’s heart clenched as he sat down in the chair next to Kurt’s bed. “What do you mean?”

"The fall was too high," the doctor sighed. "He fractured his spine and there was nothing we could do. He’ll be in a chair for the rest of his life."

"No," Blaine said quietly as he looked over at Kurt, still lying so quiet and peaceful in his bed, unaware of the horrors he’d awake to. "No, he can’t, we’re in the circus, he’s an aerial silk performer—"

"I’m sorry," the doctor shook his head. "But he’ll never hoist himself up on those silks again. He’s lost most of the feeling below his chest."

"Stop!" Blaine cried, grabbing his hair in his hands as images of Kurt smiling at him and swinging around in his silks and laughing as he tried to show Blaine the proper way to twist his body. "No, he can’t, he has to get better—"

"It’s okay, Blaine," a quiet raspy voice came from his right. He looked over and Kurt was staring at him sadly.

"Kurt," he said quietly. "It’s not okay, it’s not at all!"

"I’m broken now," Kurt said quietly, staring down at his hands. "I’m broken and…" He looked up at Blaine, his eyes wide. "You broke me."

"No," Blaine shook his head.

"You broke me," Kurt repeated. "You’re the reason I’m broken."

And then he wasn’t Kurt, he was Hunter and Blaine lurched away from the bed—


Blaine’s head shot off his arm, which he’d been resting on in the hospital hallway as he and the rest of the New Directions troupe waited for the news.

None of them could go any further because they weren’t directly related to Kurt.

Jesse was looking down at him in concern. “Are you okay? You were kind of moaning…”

Blaine took a shaky breath and rubbed his hands over his eyes. “I’m fine.”

He was lying. 

He leaned against the wall and waited for the doctor to come out, so he could see just how not-fine he really was. 

And It All Comes Crashing Down

Fire and Silk Verse, in which Blaine is a fire-eater and Kurt is a silk flyer in the circus

Summary: See title. 

"What the hell are you doing here?" Blaine said as he stared at Sebastian. 

"Aw Blaine," Sebastian cooed, leaning against one of the metal supports casually, twirling a long leather whip between his fingers. "Is that anyway to greet an old friend?"

Blaine’s eyes darted down to the whip, memories of loud cracks and flames and hot sand sweeping through his mind before he blinked them away. “Answer the question.”

"I’m just making sure that you don’t make the same mistake all over again," Sebastian said easily, pushing off of the support and walking slowly over towards Blaine. "That would be tragic, wouldn’t it?"

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," Blaine said quickly, panic setting into his chest, causing his heart to go thump thump thump. 

"Hunter?" Sebastian asked, his voice gaining an edge. "Surely you haven’t forgotten?"

"That wasn’t my fault," Blaine said, a sweat breaking out on his palms.

Sebastian smiled. It held no warmth. “Now we both know that that’s not true. It was entirely your fault, Blaine.”

"No," Blaine said faintly, backing into the support as Sebastian pushed forward.

"Yes," Sebastian snapped, crowding his face close to Blaine’s. "And do you know how I know?" He leaned forward, his lips ghosting over Blaine’s ear. "Because you’ve made the same mistake twice."

Blaine stared at Sebastian as he pulled back, a smirk tugging his lips. “What are you talking about?”

Sebastian looked innocently through the curtain. “You left a lit torch in the sands.”

"What?" Blaine looked round to see the lonely torch sticking out, close to the edge. "No, that’s impossible I brought them all in, there must be a mistake—"

"It’s a mistake, alright," Sebastian said. "One you made again. You always hurt those who you love the most, don’t you Blainey?"

"But I didn’t—" Blaine protested.

"Take this as a lesson," Sebastian cut him off. "I mean, what if there were a giant gust of wind, blowing those silks around wildly?" 

Unseen by Blaine, he lifted his whip and snapped it. It wrapped around the silk nearest to the curtain. 

Blaine’s eyes followed the sound of the crack, and everything seemed to happen very slowly.

"And there was that lone torch," Sebastian said quietly. "Just waiting…" He flicke his wrist and the whip lashed the silk sideways into the torch, causing the delicate fabric to catch fire.

"No!" Blaine yelled, shoving at Sebastian who twisted his wrist again and the silk was yanked towards the two nearest to it and they both caught on fire. 

Blaine shoved off the supports and ran through the curtain, skidding across the hot sand and ducking in time to avoid and burning silk that flared brightly in the dark. The crowd was in chaos, running everywhere in an attempt to escape, but Blaine’s attention was focused upwards, blinking the smoke out of his eyes as he saw Kurt clutching the unburned part of a flaming silk and looking around wildly.

Blaine’s heart clenched as Kurt jumped to a neighboring one that was equally on fire. Then another. He was trying to get to the sixth one which was furthest away from where Blaine and Sebastian had been, and it had yet to catch fire. Blaine ran towards it, eyes on Kurt as he leapt from silk to silk.

He saw it too late.

Up high, on the untouched silk, there was a tear. 

"KURT!" he screamed, but Kurt had already jumped for it.

Kurt caught the silk, a triumphant look upon his face before the fabric tore completely and he fell, tumbling in a mess of falling sea green and fiery curtains. 

Snapshot Liplocks

Fire and Silk Verse, in which Blaine is a fire-eater and Kurt is a silk flyer in the circus

One brief stolen kiss…or several

Kurt giggled, sliding easily down his silk and landing on the floor, staring at the entangled and hanging-upside-down Blaine who’d somehow managed to get wrapped up in three silks. “What was that you said earlier? ‘It’s just jumping, it can’t be that hard’?”

Blaine grumbled unintelligibly as he tried to twist out of the fabrics to no avail. 

"Hold still," Kurt chided, cupping Blaine’s cheek and kissing him softly upside down. "I’ll get you out. Though I must admit, I can see the advantages of leaving you here…"



Kurt pulled back from Blaine’s lips, furrowing his brow. “What?”

He’d thought everything had been going great. They were in Blaine’s room—on his bed—and the candles were lit and it had been romantic and then it had been hot and oh god what had gone wrong—

Blaine smiled and smoothed his hands over Kurt’s jaw, flexing his fingers until he was cupping his face comfortably. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered quietly before leaning forward and licking across Kurt’s mouth and kissing him again.

Kurt threaded his fingers through Blaine’s hair and kissed him back, excited as he wrapped his legs around his waist and tilted them backwards onto the bed.


Blaine slid onto the bench next to Kurt and pecked him on the cheek as he joined lunch with the others for the first time in months.

Kurt smiled at him and offered a quick peck in return before leaning against his shoulder as they shared sandwiches. 


Blaine flicked the dead match out of his hand as the crowd roared in the dark and he easily made his way back behind the curtain by heart across the sands, sliding into around the metal structures.

A hand reached out and looped around his waist and then familiar lips pressed to his. Blaine grinned into the kiss and wrapped his arms heavily around Kurt.

"You were amazing," Kurt whispered after they’d finally broken apart. His eyes twinkled in the dim light as he dragged a hand down Blaine’s oiled chest. "It was an…impressive display."

"I’d have to concur," Blaine grinned as he dragged his hand down Kurt’s back—which had held him captivated during the show as Kurt’s tattoo had undulated while he flew threw the silks—to his ass—which always held him captivated. "Shall we have an encore performance?"


"Urgh, get a room," Santana rolled her eyes as she made no move to turn away.

"This is my room!" Kurt snapped, throwing his pillow at Santana as he tried not to be distracted by his lapful of Blaine.


"Nice job!" Kurt said, smiling briefly at Blaine as he cracked his knuckles, preparing to go on. 

"Thanks," Blaine smiled, leaning in for a quick kiss. "Good luck out there, I know you’ll be perfect."

Kurt smiled before heading out onto the sands. 

Blaine walked over to stare through the curtain and watch Kurt perform. 

"I know there was no hope for you finding someone better after me, but seriously Blaine? An aerial silk performer? You might as well have a sign around your neck that reads ‘Donations Accepted’." 

Blaine turned around very slowly. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Flesh Wound

Fire and Silk Verse, in which Blaine is a fire-eater and Kurt is a silk flyer in the circus

It was just a small accident, but it seemed so much more to Blaine…

It took endless pleading and several make-out sessions—including the heated one in the cab of the rusty pick-up that had steamed the windows and quickly escalated to the tops of their favorite make-out lists—for Blaine to finally concede.

(He argued that he couldn’t withstand Kurt’s pout.)

"Come on!" Kurt said excitedly, bouncing on Blaine’s bed.

"Calm down," Blaine chuckled, tucking his hair behind his ears—it was growing long again. "This won’t work if you’re bouncing all over the place."

Kurt managed to sit still, crossing his legs and folding his hands neatly together as Blaine sat on a stool in front of him. “Not-bouncy. Right.”

Blaine smiled before lifting up a small bottle of familiar milky liquid. “Alright, I want you to take about a tea spoon of this. Don’t swallow it, just coat your mouth, okay?”

Kurt nodded as he took a sip, face twisting at the odd borderline alcoholic taste as he licked it around his mouth.

Blaine took hold of one of his fingers and started coating it with a sort of beeswax mixed with something else. “Now this is the finger you’re going to use, understand?”

Kurt nodded, excited.

"Okay," Blaine said quietly as he lit a match. The red head hissed and burned black, sulphur filling the air as Blaine brought it up to Kurt’s lips.

Kurt opened his mouth quickly, like Blaine had instructed early and licked the fire off the match, making sure to keep a steady stream of air flowing in his mouth.

Blaine pulled the match free and grinned as Kurt showed no signs of discomfort. “Good,” he said, slightly breathless. “Now open your mouth…”

Kurt breathed slowly as he opened his mouth, tongue cradling the small flame delicately.

"Perfect," Blaine whispered. "And then, like I showed you…"

Kurt brought his waxy finger to his tongue and scooped off the small flame, holding it in front of Blaine proudly.

"Yes!" Blaine grinned, clasping Kurt’s face tightly and leaning in for a celebratory kiss. 

Kurt giggled and got lost in it, closing his fingers into his hands and forgetting the small flame.

It suddenly sparked up against his flesh and he gasped, pulling away sharply and extending his fingers.

Blaine grabbed his hand and shoved it down into the sand, all traces of heat vanishing instantly.

"Sorry," Kurt muttered distractedly as he pulled his hand free and examined his palm. "Forgot I was holding fire—" He broke off as Blaine grabbed his hand and examined it closely. "Blaine…it’s fine, it barely got the first few layers of skin—"

"It’s not fine," Blaine said, checking Kurt’s palm over and over. "It’s not okay, you could have gotten hurt."

"Blaine, it was just one little flame," Kurt rolled his eyes. "How much damage—"

"All it takes is a fucking spark, Kurt!" Blaine suddenly yelled at him and Kurt took a step back in shock. 

Blaine turned suddenly, reaching down and extinguishing all the candles in the room one by one with his fingers. “Fire is dangerous and volatile and if it isn’t controlled it can get out of hand—” Kurt saw that Blaine’s fingers were dripping with wax and that had to hurt but he kept moving forward, extinguishing each candle. “—and it doesn’t matter how small it starts out, it can turn into a fucking inferno in a matter of seconds and I’m not going to put you in danger like that, you’re not—”

"Blaine, Blaine!" Kurt raised his voice, turning Blaine around and holding him by the sides of his face. "Blaine, I’m fine! I’m okay!"

Blaine just breathed heavily, staring him in the eye.

"Look at me," Kurt encouraged quietly. "Look at me, Blaine I’m fine."

Blaine finally dragged his eyes down Kurt’s body and let out a ragged breath.

"I’m fine," Kurt repeated soothingly, stroking the hair behind Blaine’s left ear. "I’m fine, Blaine. I’m fine. It’s okay."

After a while, Blaine nodded, blinking tears back from his eyes as he wrapped his arms around Kurt and held him close.

"Wanna tell me what that was about?" Kurt asked quietly. 

"There was an accident," Blaine said after a pause, voice muffled in Kurt’s hair. "All because of a little spark."

Lips Like Candy

Fire and Silk Verse, in which Blaine is a fire-eater and Kurt is a silk flier in the circus.

Kurt and Blaine sometimes kiss in the oddest of places… 


Kurt looked down, a smile automatically lighting his face as he saw Blaine standing below. He let his hand-holds on the silks go.

Blaine lurched forward as Kurt, who’d been wound up in silk, fell through the air, the silk unwinding behind him in a lush sea green stream. His arms were scarcely out to catch him when Kurt came to an abrupt halt, upside down head slightly lower than parallel to Blaine’s. 

"Yes?" he asked cheekily, face flushed with exertion. 

Blaine’s arms fell to his sides as he grumbled out a “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

Kurt grinned. “Oh Blaine, I’m much more capable than that, I wouldn’t just fall—”

"You did last time," Blaine said quietly.

All the teasing in Kurt’s face disappeared as he readjusted the slip knots around his feet with his ankles and brought his hands to rest upside down on Blaine’s shoulders. “Blaine…I’m fine, okay?”

Blaine looked at him and managed a smile.

Kurt leaned in and kissed him gently. 

Blaine threaded his fingers through Kurt’s hair and brought his face closer as he sighed against his lips.


Kurt grinned as he clasped hands with Santana and Jesse as they took their bows in front of the cheering audience. They lingered for an extra ten seconds before clamoring back to the changing rooms to get changed and enjoy the rest of the night.

Kurt followed the others through the back area of the big tent, feeling the cool air from the small flap they were all climbing through hit his face before a hand grabbed his and pulled him to the side, against one of the back supports. 

Before he could even open his mouth, Blaine’s lips were on his and he sighed, winding his arms around Blaine’s neck as the sounds of their lips mashing against each other was muffled by the roar of the audience leaving the tent. 

Blaine pressed him back against a wooden beam and Kurt’s legs automatically looped up around his waist, used to moving independently from his body. 

"You were amazing out there," Blaine whispered against his lips, trailing a hand down Kurt’s sides, causing him to shiver.

"So were you," Kurt said as he pulled back and licked his lips.

He wasn’t lying. Blaine had managed to fill the entire performance area with sparks before swirling them into a cloud of smoke and disappearing into it. Kurt had thought him gone for a half-minute before Blaine’s hands had ended up on his waist and he’d received a good-luck kiss under the crook of his jaw before he was up next.

Kurt leaned forward for another kiss but Blaine leaned back, suddenly hesitant. Kurt’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Would you…" Blaine started before he cleared his throat. "Would you maybe like to go out to dinner with me tomorrow night?"

Touch of the Lips

Fire and Silk Verse, in which Blaine is a fire-eater and Kurt is a silk flyer in the circus

The first time Kurt and Blaine kiss.

"Hey. Kurt. Wake up."

Kurt wrinkled his nose in his pillow, groaning before blinking his eyes open to see Blaine crouched down near his bed in only a black tank and black pants, gently tapping his shoulder. “What?”

Blaine glanced down briefly. “I may need your help with something.” 

Kurt frowned, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

Blaine looked back up at him. “I…need help with a new routine.”

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