Disclaimer: Anything you recognize is not mine.

A/N: So, this fic will have several chapters, each being it's own drabble/oneshot. Title from 'In Space' by Ludo.


It was weird, because even though it's dark in the light of the bonfire, Blaine seems to be shining. But not like his skin just casts back reflections of the moons and stars. No, it's more like little pinpricks of light come streaming out of his pores. Those soft bits of illumination warm Kurt's fingertips as he traces Blaine's wrist and all the delicate bones that lay underneath.

"That tickles." Blaine says sleepily, making no move to pull away.

Kurt smiles and presses a kiss to where Blaine's wrist and palm met. That spot was warm and so is Blaine's mouth when he sits up and kisses Kurt. Pulling back, Kurt drops his head to Blaine's shoulder, saying. "If you hadn't fallen asleep, I wouldn't have been reduced to wrist fondling."

"Lies. You adore my wrists, Kurt Hummel."

"I adore all of you." Kurt whispers fiercely, with both of them believing it completely.

Still, Blaine leans in so their temples brushed, asking. "Even the parts of me that pass out in the middle of bonfires?"

"You look like a little kid when you're out here. And I mean that in a totally non-creepy way. It's magical."

They both look down at Blaine's hand wrapped around Kurt's. It's a little anticlimactic, because Blaine has stopped glowing like distant starlight. Instead, his hand is hooded with shadows like normal flesh, even though he's wonderfully warm. Kurt squeezes his hand, making Blaine smile as he tilts his face heavenward.

"Out here with you feels more like home than anyplace in the world."

His voice goes weird on the word 'home', like it got stuck in his throat or Blaine's tongue has gone thick on the short 'E'. Kurt, thinking of constantly disappointed fathers and chronically silent mothers, squeezes Blaine's hand again. They watch the stars in silence until the fire is nothing but smoldering embers.