A/N: Inspired by Rihanna's Fire Bomb.

Fire Bomb

It's a battle ground. It always has been. Words fired like bullets, insults hurled like grenades. Curses and threats, knives and daggers. Eyes that glare into each other's, trying to read the very darkest pits of their soul. The bullets pierce, shatter, rip and tear hearts and minds into shreds that fall like confetti from their chests. Blaine often clutches his heart, almost feeling the blood drenching his fingers, warm, wet and sticky. He'll run, body surrounded by the flames that scorch, tear, sear his flesh. And Kurt will run after him, pulling off his gas mask as he pants and his strides grow longer. Always longer, always faster, always better. They inspire that it each other.

Together, they're a masterpiece, mosaic tiles and fragments forced and welded together until they are one. They are beautiful as one. And then Blaine's heart will give out, his brake fluid will flood the empty cavity of his chest. He'll slow to a jog, to a walk, to a lumber. Kurt will still be as he always is; fierce, ethereal, unforgiving. His face twisted, sweat trickling, never more alive than in those moments when Blaine can just look. When he can just see the light and cracks and hurt shining through every casual glance Kurt throws his way. And he knows just how to fix it.

Happy couples shrink away from them, see their relationship as unhealthy, wrong… not right, somehow. Blaine doesn't care. Let them have their soft words and gentle touches. Let them have their picnics and tender caresses. If Blaine wanted those, he would have his pick from any boy at Dalton. A fire bomb like Kurt, however… that is a rarer thing by far.

They ignite off each other, gasoline and sparks colliding in an ongoing nuclear reaction that threatens to destroy both of them and yet keeps them whole. Blaine needs this, craves this… the moments when he will see Kurt go up in flames, just to know he's not alone. Never alone on the battlefield, soldiers in arms until the bitter end.

Kurt is beautiful when he burns. His face, alight with life, laughing, crying, cursing… every raw emotion laid out for Blaine to see, taste, touch. It's pitiful and dangerous and Blaine knows when Kurt is like this, he ceases to be a whole person. They are halves of each other.

Blaine didn't start it. Kurt lit the match, started the first argument that led to this war zone, led to the atomic bombs and the over sized guns. They tried to stop at first. Tried to be rational and calm, as if they both weren't already addicted to the blast of the explosion.

It kills Wes and David. Blaine sees it every day, as they take in his raw voice, and sad eyes. They try to keep them apart, try to call a ceasefire. As if that will ever happen.

Because the truth is, they work like this, unconventional as it may be. And when Kurt is writhing under him, face contorted in a sordid compound of lust and anger and greed… Blaine knows any wound is worth it.