The second act was starting.

Kurt cracked the kinks out of his knuckles before crawling between the stands and settling into his usual place underneath the second and third rows on the left hand side. It was usually less-populated with the circus-goers so he was less likely to be dowsed in popcorn or soda.

He sat quietly through Santana's contortionist routine waiting for the second performance impatiently. He smiled slightly when the lights dimmed after she'd taken her bow and the crowd grew very silent.

There was the sound of a match striking and suddenly a ring of fire appeared around the circus sands. A lone figure stood in the middle, wearing only black pants that tied well above his ankles.

Blaine grabbed hold of two torches and lit them in the fire, before grabbing a third and juggling them with ease, his bare chest gleaming golden orange in the firelight.

Kurt leaned forward, his eyes widening in awe as he watched Blaine manipulate the flickering fire into a spectacular light show.

He drank some sort of liquid from a bottle, his entire body arching back like a bow as his cheeks bulged before he snapped forward and blew all of the liquid out of his mouth and into the torch in his hand, causing a giant river of fire to reach out and lick playfully at the audience.

And all too soon, all the fire went out until there was a single match that Blaine held over his head that provided the barest hint of light. Blaine tilted his head up to look at it curiously before blowing and the tent was bathed with darkness.

Cheers filled the air and Kurt smiled as he crawled through the stands back to the waiting area so he could relax until the final bows.

***

It had been a good night overall and the crowd had loved them. It was Kurt's turn for clean-up so he found himself in the tent after hours sweeping up all the excess popcorn.

He was about to go to bed when he paused. There had been a move earlier that he'd messed up and he should really practice it tonight because there was an afternoon show tomorrow and he probably wouldn't have time in the morning...

With a sigh, he pulled the chord by the back of the tent that released the silks from the ceiling. He'd shucked off his costume before cleaning, but he was able to tie up his pants and strip down to his undershirt. He stretched his hands high above his head and cracked his back before running his fingers across the nearest silk and bunching it in his hand, taking off running until he was able to glide in the air.

He lost himself in the movement, arms straining familiarly as he reached out and grabbed another, sailing smoothly through the sea green and lavender and periwinkle streams, releasing air slowly in and out of his nose. Climbing higher and higher, until he could get a perfect view of all the stands within the tent, he created a slip knot for himself to stand in, looking down on the tent. One of his rolls earlier hadn't been up to par and he should--

There was a loud ripping noise from above him.

Kurt looked up in alarm as he saw that the silk he was on was half-torn from it's holding.But that was impossible unless someone cut it off--

The entire cloth tore.

Kurt let out a sharp gasp, his scream slamming in his chest and refusing to come out of his throat as he was suddenly falling through the air. He reached out blindly, grabbing ahold of fabric and gripping tight, the weight of his body causing his hands drag against it, unable to slow himself and he was coming at the ground way too fast--

He slammed into something that most definitely wasn't the ground and all the breath was knocked out of him.

Blaine. Blaine was standing there, still in his costume from earlier, red and gold makeup yet to be washed off his eyes.

Blaine had caught him.

"Kurt, are you okay?" he asked quietly as he set Kurt on his feet.

Kurt breathed heavily. "I...I think so, I--" He hissed as he looked down at his hands which were red and raw from trying to grab hold on one of the silks.

"You're hurt," Blaine murmured, gently holding his wrists. "We have to get you to Emma."

"Okay," Kurt nodded slowly, still rattled.

Blaine put a gentle hand on his back and led him out of the tent.

***

"You really don't have to do this," Kurt muttered as he gingerly perched on Blaine's bed, taking in his surrounding with wide eyes. He'd never been in Blaine's tent before and it was like a furnace explosion. Candles everywhere, matchboxes crammed into every nook and cranny, red, orange and yellow paper lanterns hanging from the roof of the tent.

"Nonsense," Blaine said, digging through the top drawer of his small dresser haphazardly before extracting bandage clothes and ointment. "It's my fault, I forgot that Emma left tonight to go out with the others." He knelt in front of Kurt and took his wrists gently, looking at the silk burns.

"Do uh...do you know what you're doing?" Kurt asked awkwardly.

Blaine huffed in amusement. "I've seen a fair share of burns in my time, Kurt. Granted, they're usually from fire, not fabric..."

Kurt nodded, his eyes immediately flashing down to the tattoo that morphed into a burn across Blaine's chest.

Being a member of the New Directions Circus, each member had to have a tattoo to signify their allegiance. Kurt had gotten his done six months prior when he first joined--an outlined pattern ofiridescentfeathers and scales and swirls across his shoulder blades and dripping down his back because Brittany had told him that he looked like a fish-bird when he was up in the silks and the image hadresonatedwith him.

Blaine had been apart of New Directions for nearly a year before Kurt had joined, and his tattoo was a large menacing black dragon crawling over his right shoulder--the back half trailing down his back, the wings arching across his shoulder blades and right arm, claws digging into his collarbone, and the head resting on his chest, red eyes flashing gold and orange in the light and mouth opened wide in a roar, shooting out flames.

But instead of tattooed flames, it was a giant burn scar that cut diagonallyacross Blaine's chest.

Kurt had never had the courage to ask how he'd gotten it.

Blaine gently smoothed the burn ointment on Kurt's palms before wrapping them gently. "This should do it..." he murmured. "But you might have to take tomorrow off."

"But I'm set to open," Kurt protested.

"Kurt, you can't perform with these hands. And besides, we have to replace your silk that tore. How did that even happen anyways? In your six months here, I've never seen you fall once."

"I don't know, it tore..." Kurt said distractedly as he tried to avoid Blaine's intent hazel eyes. "It shouldn't have, not unless someone cut it...wait, you watch me perform?"

"You think someone tried to sabotage you?" Blaine asked, his eyes growing dark.

"Well maybe not that far," Kurt backtracked. "They could have--"

"Kurt, stop," Blaine snapped suddenly. "Sabotage isn't a joke. It's dangerous and it can get people hurt!"

Kurt was taken aback by Blaine's sudden outburst and he almost missed his eyes flickering down for a half second, but he caught it. Blaine had glanced down at his own chest.

Kurt looked at the burn scar and felt an chill run down his spine. "I...we can bring it up with Will in the morning?" It came out as a question.

Blaine shook his head slightly, blinking. "I--sure. Um...just come here before you do because I want to talk with him as well."

"Okay," Kurt nodded, fiddling with the ends of his bandages.

"I'll--I'll walk you to your tent," Blaine said, standing suddenly.

Kurt followed him out and into the cool spring night. The lights of the circus were mostly dimmed and most of everyone was heading to bed or coming back from the bars.

Blaine opened the flap to Kurt's pale blue tent.

Kurt smiled in thanks. "Good night."

"I do watch you perform."

Kurt turned back in surprise to see Blainesilhouetted against the circus, his tangled curly hair catching the last of the electric lights.

"You're very good. And you look amazing when you're flying through the silks."

"Thank you," Kurt said quietly.

"Sweet dreams, Kurt."

The flap fell shut.