Fic: "For Which I Have to Howl" Chapter Three (Part One), Kurt/Blaine
Hallo, all! :D Specifically, hello new people!! *waves* It's lovely to have you here! Don't be shy! Feel free to mingle and say hello. :D Also feel free to come join me on the twitters if you're so inclined.
ANYWAYS. Here's another installment in this insanely large fic. <3 Hope you enjoy!
(I swear, packaging granola bars should be bottled and marketed as some sort of writers' block cure. I write through so many scenes in my head while I do that, it's absurd.)
Title: For Which I Have to Howl -- (Chapter 3/5)
Author: emilianadarling
Fandom: Glee
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine (Side pairings: Tina/Mike, Finn/Rachel, and Puck/Quinn. Highlight for spoiler pairings:unrequited Karofsky/Kurt, eventual sexual but non-romantic Puck/Kurt)
Rating: NC-17 overall (NC-17 for this chapter)
Warnings: One a chapter by chapter basis! Disturbing themes, angst, werewolves.
Length: 12,000 for this chapter
Spoilers: This is an AU, so not really. But elements from the entire series thus far have been pulled in.
Story Summary: Werewolf AU. Tension is rising in the pack, and having the very-human Kurt Hummel come to visit his brother and boyfriend is putting a strain on everyone. Having Blaine and Kurt mate should help the problem, but the process proves to be more complicated - both physically and emotionally - than either of them could have imagined.
This Chapter: “Fuck, Kurt,” exhales Blaine, reaching a hand up to briefly card through Kurt’s hair - as though he cannot help himself. As though he simply must reach out and touch. “You’re so gorgeous. So beautiful.”
Note: You guys are my absolute favourite for all of your wonderful curiosity about this world! It makes me absolutely delighted that people are interested in this verse, so thank you so much. I am always so happy to hear from any of you!
Also, this chapter is apparently big enough that I have to split it into two awkwardly-sized, uneven halves. X_X Curses, LJ! Sorry about that, all.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
The day after the full moon, Kurt pulls up to the Woods’ Edge Motel in his beaten-up blue pickup truck just as the afternoon . The bed of the truck is virtually packed with cloth bags, each one teeming with groceries. Blaine had mentioned that the house was getting precariously low, and Kurt knows from long experience that not a single pack member will be up for dealing with either the journey or the experience of going into town today.
Puck will pay him back, most likely with an enormous and mysteriously-retrieved stack of bills. Kurt doesn’t know all the details about where the pack gets its funds, but the pack leader always seems to have a couple dozen hundred-dollar bills hidden around their current residence.
It’s a good thing, too. A dozen-plus unusually ravenous people are expensive to feed.
Kurt slides out of the cab of the truck, not bothering to lock it behind him. Spending the previous night in the nearest town’s somewhat sleazy motel has made him overcompensate, and his sunglasses and sharp leather jacket have been selected to create the illusion of complete composure. He heads over to begin unloading the groceries.
“Can somebody give me a hand?” he calls out, trusting the pack members’ heightened hearing. Sure enough, he only has enough time to open the back hatch before he sees his brother come out the front entrance and begin to head toward him, a slight limp in his step.
Finn looks slightly worse for wear, but that is to be expected. His hair is streaked with patches of grey that Kurt knows have faded in a few hours, and he is moving tentatively - as though every muscle in his body aches. Finn’s eyes are their usual brown, however, and he looks happy to see him. The image of an excited but somewhat sore puppy comes to Kurt’s mind unbidden, and he shakes away the somewhat insulting thought.
It’s nice, though, to know he doesn’t have to be on edge with these people for another three weeks. As much as Kurt is used to dealing with werewolves right before the full moon, it is usually more pleasant to deal with sore youth who eat too much. Almost always.
“Hey, dude!” calls Finn, sounding as though he truly wants to be excited but just can’t quite muster the enthusiasm. Kurt isn’t offended. He has dealt with Finn on enough mornings-after to know exactly how drained and tender the larger boy is.
“Hi,” says Kurt, before letting out an undignified yelp as his brother grabs him around the waist and into a crushing hug that leaves his feet dangling at least a foot off the ground. “Ack! Yes, yes, hello to you too. This can’t be comfortable for you, Finn, you must be sore. Put me down. Put me down now.”
“Sorry I forgot to tell you that the hunt got cancelled, man,” mumbles Finn into his chest, not budging in the slightest. “That was, like, really not cool of me. I got you into trouble.”
“Yes, well. I forgive you.” When his brother still doesn’t make any move toward putting Kurt back on solid ground, he sighs and actually hugs him back. He probably feels like he weights about two pounds to Finn anyways, even in his brother’s current condition. “It really is okay. Blaine and I have worked out a solution that we think might solve the issue - and a lot of other things, actually. I kinda wanted to talk to you about it. However, I’d rather discuss it with both my feet on the ground, if that’s all right.”
“Yeah, okay.” Finn finally lowers him back down, and the feel of the dirt driveway is very pleasant indeed. Finn is looking down at Kurt expectantly, so he gestures toward the massive truck bed full of groceries.
“Can we maybe get these into the kitchen and talk about it while we put these away? There’s milk and stuff in there.” He is stalling, but Finn accepts his explanation readily. Kurt manages two bags, and still manages to feel somewhat overpowered by their weight.
Stupid werewolf strength, he thinks, as Finn grabs four bags per hand and easily carries them into the kitchen.
Once they arrive, Kurt immediately busies himself with checking to see how dire the food situation actually is. At the realization that the entire pack was essentially down to condiments and crackers, his decision to go surprise shopping feels even more validated.
“How was last night?” Kurt asks, beginning to sort through the two entire bags of exclusively meat products. He inquires because he is interested and not at all because he is stalling. He gestures down at the foot Finn is favouring. “Did you get hurt?”
“What?” asks Finn, before realizing. “Oh, yeah, a little bit. Play-fighting with Puck. It wasn’t serious or anything, and I know that it doesn’t actually hurt that bad anymore. But... it kinda feels like it should. If that makes sense.”
It does: phantom pain is a fairly common occurrence on the day after. Although the transformation may heal any physical wounds and restore the werewolf to the pinnacle of good health, the instantaneous shift from ‘injured’ to ‘completely fine’ does not necessarily give the brain enough time to process the change. Finn will be walking normally by tonight, once his mind has realized that he is no longer hurt.
“But it was pretty good, I think. We hunted a few deer, which was fun. And tasty. The weather was nice, too. Sam chased some squirrels.”
As he sorts the meat into piles by animal - pig, cow, lamb, chicken, turkey - Kurt can’t help but smile at this rather simplistic recollection. Even when it was just the two of them on the road together, Finn had always been awful at describing full moons. One particularly memorable time, Kurt had spent the entire night perched in a massive oak tree with a rifle pointed at the door of the reinforced shed in which Finn was locked. The wolf had howled all night, clawing hysterically at anything within reach: the shed door, the walls, its own flesh. Kurt’s hands shook on the gun the whole time, and he was certain that the wolf’s screams had driven him half-mad by morning.
The next day, Finn’s description of the evening was: That sucked a bit. Could smell you, but couldn’t get to you, which was annoying. I found a rat and tried to eat it, but it got away.
“So what’s the thing you wanted to talk to me about?” asks Finn after a pause, picking up a box of oatmeal. He then seems to realize he has no idea where to put it, and replaces it down on the counter.
Kurt stiffens, mid-way through loading the meat into one of the three fridges. (He would freeze it, but realistically it’s going to be eaten before that ever becomes necessary.) This is the moment he has been dreading. Before Kurt had left the motel yesterday, he and Blaine had come to an agreement regarding who would be informing whom about their decision. Blaine had agreed to tell Puck before the transformation; Kurt had approved as long as he was the one to tell Finn.
But now that he actually has to say the words, he finds himself mysteriously fascinated by finding the best possible stacking situation for the meat in the fridge.
“Yeah. Well.” Kurt rearranges the stacks of packaged chicken one last time before closing the fridge door and turning to face his brother. “Puck... kind of issued an ultimatum two days ago, after the whole Karofsky thing. I don’t think that was the only reason why!” he rushes to clarify at Finn’s horrified expression. “It was probably just the last straw. But in any case: it boils down to the fact that if I’m going to be allowed to come here anymore, some things needed to change. So Blaine and I are going to mate.” He says the last sentence all in a rush, as though saying the words quickly will make them more acceptable.
Finn... blinks. He stares at Kurt, a look of utter astonishment on his face.
“Mate. You and Blaine.” The words are dull, empty. As though the meaning of the word hasn’t totally sunken in quite yet.
“Yes,” says Kurt, and for lack of anything to do with his hands he turns and begins to take vegetables out of the grocery bags.
“Can you guys even do that?” asks Finn, and Kurt feels his mouth fall open. He abandons the vegetables and turns back to face Finn, so offended he has no idea what to say. There is a beat, and then Finn flushes bright red. “Because you’re human!” he hastens to add. “Not because you’re both dudes! I know that part doesn’t matter. Because why would it? I mean - why would it, right?”
Slightly pacified, Kurt lets out an unsteady breath and crosses his arms. He feels defensive, but tries his best to hide it. “Yes, we can. It’s... it’s pretty rare, though. Doesn’t happen too often. And apparently the... process... is going to be bit different than it is for two wolves.” Kurt can feel his own cheeks reddening, now. “But... yes. We can. And... and one day if I decide to turn, it’ll make that a whole lot easier as well.”
Finn scrunches up his face in an expression of dislike. “Don’t say things like that,” he says, and Kurt knows he is referring to the idea of his younger brother one day being turned.
Resisting the urge to respond to the comment - because that is a completely different battle, and one he doesn’t feel up to fighting at the right now - Kurt continues. “The ritual has to take place on the night before a full moon, so we’re going to have to wait a month. But that should give us plenty of time to -”
“Wait, a month?” Finn’s voice is suddenly louder, and he takes a step forward. He really is unfairly tall; the closer proximity makes Kurt painfully aware of just how much his brother towers over him. “So, what, you’ve just suddenly made this decision and you’re not even going to take some time to consider it?” Finn lets out a wordless noise of frustration, hands clenching at his sides. “It’s so unfair of Puck to expect you to do this. It was my fault that you showed up two days ago, not yours.”
Partial understanding floods Kurt’s mind, and some of his frustration ebbs away. He puts a hand on Finn’s well-defined arm, his hand looking even tinier than usual in contrast. “Finn, this isn’t your fault. Honestly, I think Puck’s been unhappy with me visiting like this for a while now. And what he says, goes. You know that even better than I do.” Kurt gives his brother’s arm a squeeze. The muscles are inhumanly solid under his fingers. “I don’t want to cut myself out of your life, Finn. And I don’t want to stop being a part of Blaine’s life, either.”
“... it’s just so permanent,” Finn mutters, staring determinedly down at the ugly black-and-white checked floor. The groceries lie forgotten at their feet. “Just... mating is forever, you know? And we’re both still really young, even with all of this weirdness. I mean, I can’t even imagine making that kind of commitment to Rachel yet, yeah?”
I can’t imagine you making a commitment to still be with Rachel by next Tuesday. The thought is rather extraordinarily mean, and Kurt is silently pleased with himself for having a stronger brain-to-mouth filter than he did in high school. Because taunting his brother’s tumultuous relationship is probably not the best way to go about winning Finn’s support.
“I know,” Kurt says instead. “But I’ve had to grow up quickly, Finn. You and I both did. And Blaine is a little bit older than he looks.” Finn looks unconvinced, and Kurt decides that sometimes the truth is the best tool to be had. “Finn, I really want this. It makes so much sense for so many reasons. I’ll be safer this way, both when I’m here with the pack and in general. And... and I really love him. So much that I can’t believe it sometimes. I want to spend the rest of my life with him.”
His brother is silent for an extraordinarily long time. He is not looking at Kurt; instead, his gaze is focused on a fixed point in the room. Looking at something that Kurt cannot see. When he finally speaks, his words are low and careful.
“It scares me. You making a decision that you can’t come back from.”
There is such honesty in this simple statement that Kurt’s heart clenches and his eyes sting. Because Finn never got to choose. Never got to regret or defend his decision to leave everything behind - his family, his education, his life - because that decision was never his to make. Finn’s life ended walking home from practice that day. He’d just been a stupid, selfish kid when everything had been taken from him. So much of Finn’s life in the past three years has been completely out of his control, and he doesn’t want his little brother to be put in the same position.
And it kills Finn - absolutely kills him - that he can’t see his own mother or step-father anymore. Because the wolf has tasted their blood; has ripped into their flesh with cruel teeth and come so close to cracking their bones, to tearing them apart and feasting on the remains.
Finn the Human Being loves his parents, would never want to hurt them - but Burt still walks with a limp and Carole is missing three fingers. The wolf, always thrumming just below the surface, wants nothing more than to finish what it started. To sate itself with their blood until there is no more left to have. The terrible dichotomy practically tears Finn’s mind apart, makes him practically vomit with disgust every time he thinks about them. His love for his parents mixed with the desperate need to hurt, to kill.
The two of them had tried to orchestrate a meeting once. It had ended with four tranquilizer darts to Finn’s back.
Burt and Carole never found out.
“Finn... I love you more than anything. I do.” Kurt can’t quite keep the tremble out of his voice. “But this is mine and Blaine’s decision to make, and... and it would mean so much if you could support me through it. A lot of this stuff is a bit scary and strange to me. And I just... I really need my big brother right now.”
And suddenly Kurt is wrapped up in another Finn Hudson hug, only this time his feet remain firmly on solid ground. Somehow he doesn’t mind the embrace so much this time. His brother’s arms around him are almost uncomfortably tight; he isn’t paying as much attention to minding his own strength as he probably should. Kurt gives Finn a hard squeeze before they both pull away.
“Dude,” says Finn, some of his usual cheer re-emerging in his voice. “You kinda came with me when my whole world was ending. Of course I support you.” He gives Kurt a pat on the shoulder that almost sends him flying to the floor. There’s a pause. “It’s totally gonna be weird, though.”
The laugh escapes Kurt’s throat before he can hold it back, and before he knows it they are both choking on near-hysteria, giggling like little boys they can no longer be. There are tears of mirth gathering at the corner of Kurt’s eyes, and he thinks that Finn has never said anything more accurate in his life.
“It’s going to be totally weird, yes,” he wheezes. Finn smiles at him, and Kurt knows that the two of them are going to be fine. Then he looks down at the floor and wrinkles his nose. “Ugh, we fail at adulthood, though. There are groceries everywhere.”
Finn chuckles. “If you tell me where to put things, I’ll help you put them away.”
“How on earth do I know your own kitchen better than you do?”
“Dude. I know where the bacon and the pizza pops live. Anything else is just extra.”
Kurt laughs, and gives his brother a playful smack on the shoulder. Even though he knows that his hand probably has all of the impact of a fly colliding with a solid brick wall, Finn smiles and dutifully asks where the oatmeal should be shelved. And everything is normal between them again.
It takes only takes them twenty minutes to get the rest of the groceries stored. They both try to keep the conversation light as they tuck boxes and bags into cupboards and bags of produce into the crisper. The book that Rachel is writing. Carole’s promotion at work, and the fact that she begins her new position next Monday. The fact that Burt is renovating the fireplace at home.
Once the absurd amount of food has been safely stored and the cloth bags folded for Kurt to take with him when he leaves, Finn excuses himself to go make sure that Rachel is actually awake. (“For someone so uptight, she kinda sleeps forever on the day after. It’s weird.”) Kurt smiles and waves him away, already anxious to see his boyfriend. Blaine tends to emerge from full moons looking slightly more worse for wear than everyone else - probably something to do with his time at that weird Warville cult. He’ll be happy to have his human boyfriend around to play nursemaid, Kurt thinks. And it will be nice to spend a bit more time with him before he has to return home to Lima tomorrow.
As he exits the kitchen and starts down the hallway, Kurt is so caught up in the idea of fully taking advantage of the rest of the day with Blaine that he does not notice the large figure leaning against a shadowed corner until it actually calls out to him.
“Kurt.”
The white light of adrenaline bursts behind Kurt’s eyelids, and he is fairly certain he jumps about a foot in the air. Heart pounding, he looks around frantically for the source of the voice - and sees Dave Karofsky leaning against the wall, posture hunched and large arms crossed over his chest. He looks incredibly uncomfortable.
“Jesus, David,” Kurt exclaims, letting out large breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. “Way to give a man seven heart attacks. Maybe a little less shadow-skulking next time?”
“Sorry,” mutters Dave, taking a step forward into the ugly fluorescent light. He’s looking determinedly down at the floor, and there is tremendous tension across his large frame. Dave bites his lip, and Kurt realizes that he is... nervous. The irony of the enormous inhuman werewolf being intimidated by a fragile human half his size is not lost on Kurt, but Dave looks serious.
“Hey... what’s up?”
“I’m just -” Dave cuts off, holding himself so stiff it almost hurts to look at him. He lets out a small, frustrated noise - and Kurt realizes that his eyes are shining slightly. Dave coughs. “I wanted to tell you that I’m... I’m so fucking sorry, Kurt. For what I said to you. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean any of it.” The larger boy takes a deep, unsteady breath.
“I know,” murmurs Kurt, unsure of what else there is to say. “I know, David. It’s okay.”
Kurt had been half-expecting an apology, but this is far more... intense than anticipated. It makes something twist uncomfortably in his stomach for reasons he can’t quite pin down.
“It’s not, though.” Dave’s voice grows bolder. “You already know I didn’t mean any of it. The moon... it was the moon that had me all messed up, you know? But it was still shitty for me to say that stuff, and to... push you.” The hesitation hints at another word left unspoken. “And... I heard you talking to Hudson.”
Fucking werewolves. Fucking werewolves and their stupid strength and hearing and epic nosiness of inhuman proportions.
Kurt squeezes his eyes shut and counts to ten slowly in his head. When he opens his eyes again Dave is still towering in front of him, looking surer of himself than before.
“It’s very rude to eavesdrop, David.” Kurt is attempting to sound patient, but his voice edges into snippy territory instead. He straightens his posture, trying to compete with the enormously bulky boy standing in front of him. It doesn’t help, but it does make him feel slightly better.
“You don’t have to do this.”
“Don’t you dare -”
“You don’t have to run crying to - to fucking Anderson for protection just because I say a couple of things I don’t mean.” Dave sneers when he says Blaine’s name. His eyes are dark, flashing with anger and contempt. And something else. “It won’t happen again, okay? I’ll talk to Puck, I’ll figure something out, but - you don’t have to throw your whole life away just because I mess up one time.”
“Okay, first of all? I don’t see how any of this is your business.” Kurt is bristling now, is diminutive frame practically vibrating with indignation. “Blaine is my boyfriend, and we can choose to do whatever we like. You’ve been nice to me since you arrived here, yes. But that does not give you the right to belittle my life choices.”
The larger boy lets out a wordless cry of frustration. “It does if you’re pulling this shit because I said a few things I didn’t mean! God, Kurt, mating is forever. You don’t have to - to do that with him just because you’re having a massive hissy fit over nothing.”
“Second of all,” enunciates Kurt carefully, voice hard and cold as ice. “Do you really think I’m that easily frightened? Because if you do, David, then you know absolutely nothing about me.”
At his words, Dave blinks and flinches as though physically struck. But Kurt isn’t done.
“Did you ever stop to think that maybe I’m mating with Blaine because I want to? Because I love him, and I want to spend the rest of my life with him? Or did you conveniently stop listening in for that little tidbit? Kurt laughs, and it is an ugly sound. “Did you ever take one step out of your self-involved little world to consider that maybe I’ve thought seriously about mating with him before you went and ran your mouth at me?”
The silence that hands between them is vast and charged, and Kurt realizes that he is breathing heavily. Dave isn’t looking at him anymore; instead, his gaze is firmly fixed on the ground. Kurt waits for him to speak again, but only encounters more silence. Sniffing disdainfully, Kurt turns and begins to continue down the hallway.
And then -
“Why him?”
The words are muttered, almost incomprehensible. They make Kurt freeze mid-step nonetheless. He stops, turns. Looks at Dave Karofsky, practically filling up the entire hallway with his bulk. Dave Karofsky, who is staring at him as though Kurt is the most crucial piece of information in the world.
“What?” asks Kurt after a moment, his voice high in surprise.
Dave takes a step closer. His eyes are full of conviction, but something in his manner is incredibly fragile.
“If you met me before you met Anderson. If... if I got turned sooner, or if he never joined the pack...” Dave trails off, and his eyes flick down to Kurt’s lips and back again. The tiny movement of his eyes makes Kurt shiver in a way he can’t fully understand. “Why him.”
Distantly, Kurt can feel the pieces of the puzzle falling into place. The similarities in how Blaine and Dave had acted when they had first met him, two years ago and one year ago respectively. Both pausing midway through conversation, eyes wild and breathing in too deeply. Almost shaking from the force of some emotion Kurt couldn’t entirely comprehend.
When Kurt had first met Blaine, Finn had been with the pack for four months. Kurt was only just back from a visit with Carole and Burt - one of the first since their sons had run away from them - and he was feeling emotionally devastated and exhausted from the long drive. Eager to get back to his brother; away from questions he couldn’t fully answer, stories he couldn’t fully tell. He had walked into the main hall of the pack’s current home and seen a small, compact boy dressed in an absolutely absurd uniform. He was shaking Puck’s hand a tad too enthusiastically. You won’t regret this, he’d said, their hands bobbing up and down in the air. I promise you won’t regret this. Thank you. Thank you so -
And then the uniform-clad boy had frozen, taking a deep breath in through his nose. Had turned, and spotted Kurt in the doorway. Their eyes had met - they were pretty eyes; hazel and shining and ever-so-earnest - and Kurt had felt something delicate and sweet begin to blossom at the base of his spine.
When Dave joined the pack almost exactly a year later, Blaine had wrapped his arm around Kurt’s shoulders and held him closer than usual. At the time, Kurt hadn’t realized that anything was wrong; had smiled and snuggled into Blaine’s hold, happy for the obvious display of affection.
Kurt knows about werewolf sensory perception, about smells and how they can draw and connect the wolf to compatible people. How protective it makes the wolf, too. How ferocious and wary and on edge of potential threats. About how Blaine used to tell him how maddening Kurt smelled on the day they first met. Tantalizing and tempting, enough to make Blaine shiver and twitch from the strain of holding back, terrified of ruining everything before it even started.
It’s like human pheromones and attraction, Blaine had said once, when Kurt had pushed him to explain. His ever-so-proper encyclopaedic side peeking out. If someone smells good, they’re more attractive, yeah? Only... it’s more than that. It draws. Says ‘this person is good for you’, and... Blaine had thrown his hands into the air, apparently unable to properly explain. It’s not usually this intense, even for wolves; it varies from person to person. I have no idea why you smell the way you do to me, Kurt. Maybe it just means we’re perfect for each other? And Kurt had rolled his eyes and huffed at the soppy comment, and that was that.
Kurt knows, too, that scent attraction doesn’t limit itself because of petty little human labels like ‘dating’ or ‘taken’ or ‘in a relationship’. And it certainly doesn’t have to be reciprocated.
In that moment, it strikes Kurt how very, very unfair the entire situation is for all three of them.
“If this is all you want to talk about,” says Kurt at last, after the long pause. “Then I’m not sure I want to talk to you right now.”
And with that, he turns and walks down the hallway. Through the buzzing in his ears, Kurt thinks he might hear a choked-off inhalation of breath. He doesn’t look back.
Continue on to Chapter Three (Part Two)
ANYWAYS. Here's another installment in this insanely large fic. <3 Hope you enjoy!
(I swear, packaging granola bars should be bottled and marketed as some sort of writers' block cure. I write through so many scenes in my head while I do that, it's absurd.)
Title: For Which I Have to Howl -- (Chapter 3/5)
Author: emilianadarling
Fandom: Glee
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine (Side pairings: Tina/Mike, Finn/Rachel, and Puck/Quinn. Highlight for spoiler pairings:unrequited Karofsky/Kurt, eventual sexual but non-romantic Puck/Kurt)
Rating: NC-17 overall (NC-17 for this chapter)
Warnings: One a chapter by chapter basis! Disturbing themes, angst, werewolves.
Length: 12,000 for this chapter
Spoilers: This is an AU, so not really. But elements from the entire series thus far have been pulled in.
Story Summary: Werewolf AU. Tension is rising in the pack, and having the very-human Kurt Hummel come to visit his brother and boyfriend is putting a strain on everyone. Having Blaine and Kurt mate should help the problem, but the process proves to be more complicated - both physically and emotionally - than either of them could have imagined.
This Chapter: “Fuck, Kurt,” exhales Blaine, reaching a hand up to briefly card through Kurt’s hair - as though he cannot help himself. As though he simply must reach out and touch. “You’re so gorgeous. So beautiful.”
Note: You guys are my absolute favourite for all of your wonderful curiosity about this world! It makes me absolutely delighted that people are interested in this verse, so thank you so much. I am always so happy to hear from any of you!
Also, this chapter is apparently big enough that I have to split it into two awkwardly-sized, uneven halves. X_X Curses, LJ! Sorry about that, all.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
The day after the full moon, Kurt pulls up to the Woods’ Edge Motel in his beaten-up blue pickup truck just as the afternoon . The bed of the truck is virtually packed with cloth bags, each one teeming with groceries. Blaine had mentioned that the house was getting precariously low, and Kurt knows from long experience that not a single pack member will be up for dealing with either the journey or the experience of going into town today.
Puck will pay him back, most likely with an enormous and mysteriously-retrieved stack of bills. Kurt doesn’t know all the details about where the pack gets its funds, but the pack leader always seems to have a couple dozen hundred-dollar bills hidden around their current residence.
It’s a good thing, too. A dozen-plus unusually ravenous people are expensive to feed.
Kurt slides out of the cab of the truck, not bothering to lock it behind him. Spending the previous night in the nearest town’s somewhat sleazy motel has made him overcompensate, and his sunglasses and sharp leather jacket have been selected to create the illusion of complete composure. He heads over to begin unloading the groceries.
“Can somebody give me a hand?” he calls out, trusting the pack members’ heightened hearing. Sure enough, he only has enough time to open the back hatch before he sees his brother come out the front entrance and begin to head toward him, a slight limp in his step.
Finn looks slightly worse for wear, but that is to be expected. His hair is streaked with patches of grey that Kurt knows have faded in a few hours, and he is moving tentatively - as though every muscle in his body aches. Finn’s eyes are their usual brown, however, and he looks happy to see him. The image of an excited but somewhat sore puppy comes to Kurt’s mind unbidden, and he shakes away the somewhat insulting thought.
It’s nice, though, to know he doesn’t have to be on edge with these people for another three weeks. As much as Kurt is used to dealing with werewolves right before the full moon, it is usually more pleasant to deal with sore youth who eat too much. Almost always.
“Hey, dude!” calls Finn, sounding as though he truly wants to be excited but just can’t quite muster the enthusiasm. Kurt isn’t offended. He has dealt with Finn on enough mornings-after to know exactly how drained and tender the larger boy is.
“Hi,” says Kurt, before letting out an undignified yelp as his brother grabs him around the waist and into a crushing hug that leaves his feet dangling at least a foot off the ground. “Ack! Yes, yes, hello to you too. This can’t be comfortable for you, Finn, you must be sore. Put me down. Put me down now.”
“Sorry I forgot to tell you that the hunt got cancelled, man,” mumbles Finn into his chest, not budging in the slightest. “That was, like, really not cool of me. I got you into trouble.”
“Yes, well. I forgive you.” When his brother still doesn’t make any move toward putting Kurt back on solid ground, he sighs and actually hugs him back. He probably feels like he weights about two pounds to Finn anyways, even in his brother’s current condition. “It really is okay. Blaine and I have worked out a solution that we think might solve the issue - and a lot of other things, actually. I kinda wanted to talk to you about it. However, I’d rather discuss it with both my feet on the ground, if that’s all right.”
“Yeah, okay.” Finn finally lowers him back down, and the feel of the dirt driveway is very pleasant indeed. Finn is looking down at Kurt expectantly, so he gestures toward the massive truck bed full of groceries.
“Can we maybe get these into the kitchen and talk about it while we put these away? There’s milk and stuff in there.” He is stalling, but Finn accepts his explanation readily. Kurt manages two bags, and still manages to feel somewhat overpowered by their weight.
Stupid werewolf strength, he thinks, as Finn grabs four bags per hand and easily carries them into the kitchen.
Once they arrive, Kurt immediately busies himself with checking to see how dire the food situation actually is. At the realization that the entire pack was essentially down to condiments and crackers, his decision to go surprise shopping feels even more validated.
“How was last night?” Kurt asks, beginning to sort through the two entire bags of exclusively meat products. He inquires because he is interested and not at all because he is stalling. He gestures down at the foot Finn is favouring. “Did you get hurt?”
“What?” asks Finn, before realizing. “Oh, yeah, a little bit. Play-fighting with Puck. It wasn’t serious or anything, and I know that it doesn’t actually hurt that bad anymore. But... it kinda feels like it should. If that makes sense.”
It does: phantom pain is a fairly common occurrence on the day after. Although the transformation may heal any physical wounds and restore the werewolf to the pinnacle of good health, the instantaneous shift from ‘injured’ to ‘completely fine’ does not necessarily give the brain enough time to process the change. Finn will be walking normally by tonight, once his mind has realized that he is no longer hurt.
“But it was pretty good, I think. We hunted a few deer, which was fun. And tasty. The weather was nice, too. Sam chased some squirrels.”
As he sorts the meat into piles by animal - pig, cow, lamb, chicken, turkey - Kurt can’t help but smile at this rather simplistic recollection. Even when it was just the two of them on the road together, Finn had always been awful at describing full moons. One particularly memorable time, Kurt had spent the entire night perched in a massive oak tree with a rifle pointed at the door of the reinforced shed in which Finn was locked. The wolf had howled all night, clawing hysterically at anything within reach: the shed door, the walls, its own flesh. Kurt’s hands shook on the gun the whole time, and he was certain that the wolf’s screams had driven him half-mad by morning.
The next day, Finn’s description of the evening was: That sucked a bit. Could smell you, but couldn’t get to you, which was annoying. I found a rat and tried to eat it, but it got away.
“So what’s the thing you wanted to talk to me about?” asks Finn after a pause, picking up a box of oatmeal. He then seems to realize he has no idea where to put it, and replaces it down on the counter.
Kurt stiffens, mid-way through loading the meat into one of the three fridges. (He would freeze it, but realistically it’s going to be eaten before that ever becomes necessary.) This is the moment he has been dreading. Before Kurt had left the motel yesterday, he and Blaine had come to an agreement regarding who would be informing whom about their decision. Blaine had agreed to tell Puck before the transformation; Kurt had approved as long as he was the one to tell Finn.
But now that he actually has to say the words, he finds himself mysteriously fascinated by finding the best possible stacking situation for the meat in the fridge.
“Yeah. Well.” Kurt rearranges the stacks of packaged chicken one last time before closing the fridge door and turning to face his brother. “Puck... kind of issued an ultimatum two days ago, after the whole Karofsky thing. I don’t think that was the only reason why!” he rushes to clarify at Finn’s horrified expression. “It was probably just the last straw. But in any case: it boils down to the fact that if I’m going to be allowed to come here anymore, some things needed to change. So Blaine and I are going to mate.” He says the last sentence all in a rush, as though saying the words quickly will make them more acceptable.
Finn... blinks. He stares at Kurt, a look of utter astonishment on his face.
“Mate. You and Blaine.” The words are dull, empty. As though the meaning of the word hasn’t totally sunken in quite yet.
“Yes,” says Kurt, and for lack of anything to do with his hands he turns and begins to take vegetables out of the grocery bags.
“Can you guys even do that?” asks Finn, and Kurt feels his mouth fall open. He abandons the vegetables and turns back to face Finn, so offended he has no idea what to say. There is a beat, and then Finn flushes bright red. “Because you’re human!” he hastens to add. “Not because you’re both dudes! I know that part doesn’t matter. Because why would it? I mean - why would it, right?”
Slightly pacified, Kurt lets out an unsteady breath and crosses his arms. He feels defensive, but tries his best to hide it. “Yes, we can. It’s... it’s pretty rare, though. Doesn’t happen too often. And apparently the... process... is going to be bit different than it is for two wolves.” Kurt can feel his own cheeks reddening, now. “But... yes. We can. And... and one day if I decide to turn, it’ll make that a whole lot easier as well.”
Finn scrunches up his face in an expression of dislike. “Don’t say things like that,” he says, and Kurt knows he is referring to the idea of his younger brother one day being turned.
Resisting the urge to respond to the comment - because that is a completely different battle, and one he doesn’t feel up to fighting at the right now - Kurt continues. “The ritual has to take place on the night before a full moon, so we’re going to have to wait a month. But that should give us plenty of time to -”
“Wait, a month?” Finn’s voice is suddenly louder, and he takes a step forward. He really is unfairly tall; the closer proximity makes Kurt painfully aware of just how much his brother towers over him. “So, what, you’ve just suddenly made this decision and you’re not even going to take some time to consider it?” Finn lets out a wordless noise of frustration, hands clenching at his sides. “It’s so unfair of Puck to expect you to do this. It was my fault that you showed up two days ago, not yours.”
Partial understanding floods Kurt’s mind, and some of his frustration ebbs away. He puts a hand on Finn’s well-defined arm, his hand looking even tinier than usual in contrast. “Finn, this isn’t your fault. Honestly, I think Puck’s been unhappy with me visiting like this for a while now. And what he says, goes. You know that even better than I do.” Kurt gives his brother’s arm a squeeze. The muscles are inhumanly solid under his fingers. “I don’t want to cut myself out of your life, Finn. And I don’t want to stop being a part of Blaine’s life, either.”
“... it’s just so permanent,” Finn mutters, staring determinedly down at the ugly black-and-white checked floor. The groceries lie forgotten at their feet. “Just... mating is forever, you know? And we’re both still really young, even with all of this weirdness. I mean, I can’t even imagine making that kind of commitment to Rachel yet, yeah?”
I can’t imagine you making a commitment to still be with Rachel by next Tuesday. The thought is rather extraordinarily mean, and Kurt is silently pleased with himself for having a stronger brain-to-mouth filter than he did in high school. Because taunting his brother’s tumultuous relationship is probably not the best way to go about winning Finn’s support.
“I know,” Kurt says instead. “But I’ve had to grow up quickly, Finn. You and I both did. And Blaine is a little bit older than he looks.” Finn looks unconvinced, and Kurt decides that sometimes the truth is the best tool to be had. “Finn, I really want this. It makes so much sense for so many reasons. I’ll be safer this way, both when I’m here with the pack and in general. And... and I really love him. So much that I can’t believe it sometimes. I want to spend the rest of my life with him.”
His brother is silent for an extraordinarily long time. He is not looking at Kurt; instead, his gaze is focused on a fixed point in the room. Looking at something that Kurt cannot see. When he finally speaks, his words are low and careful.
“It scares me. You making a decision that you can’t come back from.”
There is such honesty in this simple statement that Kurt’s heart clenches and his eyes sting. Because Finn never got to choose. Never got to regret or defend his decision to leave everything behind - his family, his education, his life - because that decision was never his to make. Finn’s life ended walking home from practice that day. He’d just been a stupid, selfish kid when everything had been taken from him. So much of Finn’s life in the past three years has been completely out of his control, and he doesn’t want his little brother to be put in the same position.
And it kills Finn - absolutely kills him - that he can’t see his own mother or step-father anymore. Because the wolf has tasted their blood; has ripped into their flesh with cruel teeth and come so close to cracking their bones, to tearing them apart and feasting on the remains.
Finn the Human Being loves his parents, would never want to hurt them - but Burt still walks with a limp and Carole is missing three fingers. The wolf, always thrumming just below the surface, wants nothing more than to finish what it started. To sate itself with their blood until there is no more left to have. The terrible dichotomy practically tears Finn’s mind apart, makes him practically vomit with disgust every time he thinks about them. His love for his parents mixed with the desperate need to hurt, to kill.
The two of them had tried to orchestrate a meeting once. It had ended with four tranquilizer darts to Finn’s back.
Burt and Carole never found out.
“Finn... I love you more than anything. I do.” Kurt can’t quite keep the tremble out of his voice. “But this is mine and Blaine’s decision to make, and... and it would mean so much if you could support me through it. A lot of this stuff is a bit scary and strange to me. And I just... I really need my big brother right now.”
And suddenly Kurt is wrapped up in another Finn Hudson hug, only this time his feet remain firmly on solid ground. Somehow he doesn’t mind the embrace so much this time. His brother’s arms around him are almost uncomfortably tight; he isn’t paying as much attention to minding his own strength as he probably should. Kurt gives Finn a hard squeeze before they both pull away.
“Dude,” says Finn, some of his usual cheer re-emerging in his voice. “You kinda came with me when my whole world was ending. Of course I support you.” He gives Kurt a pat on the shoulder that almost sends him flying to the floor. There’s a pause. “It’s totally gonna be weird, though.”
The laugh escapes Kurt’s throat before he can hold it back, and before he knows it they are both choking on near-hysteria, giggling like little boys they can no longer be. There are tears of mirth gathering at the corner of Kurt’s eyes, and he thinks that Finn has never said anything more accurate in his life.
“It’s going to be totally weird, yes,” he wheezes. Finn smiles at him, and Kurt knows that the two of them are going to be fine. Then he looks down at the floor and wrinkles his nose. “Ugh, we fail at adulthood, though. There are groceries everywhere.”
Finn chuckles. “If you tell me where to put things, I’ll help you put them away.”
“How on earth do I know your own kitchen better than you do?”
“Dude. I know where the bacon and the pizza pops live. Anything else is just extra.”
Kurt laughs, and gives his brother a playful smack on the shoulder. Even though he knows that his hand probably has all of the impact of a fly colliding with a solid brick wall, Finn smiles and dutifully asks where the oatmeal should be shelved. And everything is normal between them again.
It takes only takes them twenty minutes to get the rest of the groceries stored. They both try to keep the conversation light as they tuck boxes and bags into cupboards and bags of produce into the crisper. The book that Rachel is writing. Carole’s promotion at work, and the fact that she begins her new position next Monday. The fact that Burt is renovating the fireplace at home.
Once the absurd amount of food has been safely stored and the cloth bags folded for Kurt to take with him when he leaves, Finn excuses himself to go make sure that Rachel is actually awake. (“For someone so uptight, she kinda sleeps forever on the day after. It’s weird.”) Kurt smiles and waves him away, already anxious to see his boyfriend. Blaine tends to emerge from full moons looking slightly more worse for wear than everyone else - probably something to do with his time at that weird Warville cult. He’ll be happy to have his human boyfriend around to play nursemaid, Kurt thinks. And it will be nice to spend a bit more time with him before he has to return home to Lima tomorrow.
As he exits the kitchen and starts down the hallway, Kurt is so caught up in the idea of fully taking advantage of the rest of the day with Blaine that he does not notice the large figure leaning against a shadowed corner until it actually calls out to him.
“Kurt.”
The white light of adrenaline bursts behind Kurt’s eyelids, and he is fairly certain he jumps about a foot in the air. Heart pounding, he looks around frantically for the source of the voice - and sees Dave Karofsky leaning against the wall, posture hunched and large arms crossed over his chest. He looks incredibly uncomfortable.
“Jesus, David,” Kurt exclaims, letting out large breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. “Way to give a man seven heart attacks. Maybe a little less shadow-skulking next time?”
“Sorry,” mutters Dave, taking a step forward into the ugly fluorescent light. He’s looking determinedly down at the floor, and there is tremendous tension across his large frame. Dave bites his lip, and Kurt realizes that he is... nervous. The irony of the enormous inhuman werewolf being intimidated by a fragile human half his size is not lost on Kurt, but Dave looks serious.
“Hey... what’s up?”
“I’m just -” Dave cuts off, holding himself so stiff it almost hurts to look at him. He lets out a small, frustrated noise - and Kurt realizes that his eyes are shining slightly. Dave coughs. “I wanted to tell you that I’m... I’m so fucking sorry, Kurt. For what I said to you. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean any of it.” The larger boy takes a deep, unsteady breath.
“I know,” murmurs Kurt, unsure of what else there is to say. “I know, David. It’s okay.”
Kurt had been half-expecting an apology, but this is far more... intense than anticipated. It makes something twist uncomfortably in his stomach for reasons he can’t quite pin down.
“It’s not, though.” Dave’s voice grows bolder. “You already know I didn’t mean any of it. The moon... it was the moon that had me all messed up, you know? But it was still shitty for me to say that stuff, and to... push you.” The hesitation hints at another word left unspoken. “And... I heard you talking to Hudson.”
Fucking werewolves. Fucking werewolves and their stupid strength and hearing and epic nosiness of inhuman proportions.
Kurt squeezes his eyes shut and counts to ten slowly in his head. When he opens his eyes again Dave is still towering in front of him, looking surer of himself than before.
“It’s very rude to eavesdrop, David.” Kurt is attempting to sound patient, but his voice edges into snippy territory instead. He straightens his posture, trying to compete with the enormously bulky boy standing in front of him. It doesn’t help, but it does make him feel slightly better.
“You don’t have to do this.”
“Don’t you dare -”
“You don’t have to run crying to - to fucking Anderson for protection just because I say a couple of things I don’t mean.” Dave sneers when he says Blaine’s name. His eyes are dark, flashing with anger and contempt. And something else. “It won’t happen again, okay? I’ll talk to Puck, I’ll figure something out, but - you don’t have to throw your whole life away just because I mess up one time.”
“Okay, first of all? I don’t see how any of this is your business.” Kurt is bristling now, is diminutive frame practically vibrating with indignation. “Blaine is my boyfriend, and we can choose to do whatever we like. You’ve been nice to me since you arrived here, yes. But that does not give you the right to belittle my life choices.”
The larger boy lets out a wordless cry of frustration. “It does if you’re pulling this shit because I said a few things I didn’t mean! God, Kurt, mating is forever. You don’t have to - to do that with him just because you’re having a massive hissy fit over nothing.”
“Second of all,” enunciates Kurt carefully, voice hard and cold as ice. “Do you really think I’m that easily frightened? Because if you do, David, then you know absolutely nothing about me.”
At his words, Dave blinks and flinches as though physically struck. But Kurt isn’t done.
“Did you ever stop to think that maybe I’m mating with Blaine because I want to? Because I love him, and I want to spend the rest of my life with him? Or did you conveniently stop listening in for that little tidbit? Kurt laughs, and it is an ugly sound. “Did you ever take one step out of your self-involved little world to consider that maybe I’ve thought seriously about mating with him before you went and ran your mouth at me?”
The silence that hands between them is vast and charged, and Kurt realizes that he is breathing heavily. Dave isn’t looking at him anymore; instead, his gaze is firmly fixed on the ground. Kurt waits for him to speak again, but only encounters more silence. Sniffing disdainfully, Kurt turns and begins to continue down the hallway.
And then -
“Why him?”
The words are muttered, almost incomprehensible. They make Kurt freeze mid-step nonetheless. He stops, turns. Looks at Dave Karofsky, practically filling up the entire hallway with his bulk. Dave Karofsky, who is staring at him as though Kurt is the most crucial piece of information in the world.
“What?” asks Kurt after a moment, his voice high in surprise.
Dave takes a step closer. His eyes are full of conviction, but something in his manner is incredibly fragile.
“If you met me before you met Anderson. If... if I got turned sooner, or if he never joined the pack...” Dave trails off, and his eyes flick down to Kurt’s lips and back again. The tiny movement of his eyes makes Kurt shiver in a way he can’t fully understand. “Why him.”
Distantly, Kurt can feel the pieces of the puzzle falling into place. The similarities in how Blaine and Dave had acted when they had first met him, two years ago and one year ago respectively. Both pausing midway through conversation, eyes wild and breathing in too deeply. Almost shaking from the force of some emotion Kurt couldn’t entirely comprehend.
When Kurt had first met Blaine, Finn had been with the pack for four months. Kurt was only just back from a visit with Carole and Burt - one of the first since their sons had run away from them - and he was feeling emotionally devastated and exhausted from the long drive. Eager to get back to his brother; away from questions he couldn’t fully answer, stories he couldn’t fully tell. He had walked into the main hall of the pack’s current home and seen a small, compact boy dressed in an absolutely absurd uniform. He was shaking Puck’s hand a tad too enthusiastically. You won’t regret this, he’d said, their hands bobbing up and down in the air. I promise you won’t regret this. Thank you. Thank you so -
And then the uniform-clad boy had frozen, taking a deep breath in through his nose. Had turned, and spotted Kurt in the doorway. Their eyes had met - they were pretty eyes; hazel and shining and ever-so-earnest - and Kurt had felt something delicate and sweet begin to blossom at the base of his spine.
When Dave joined the pack almost exactly a year later, Blaine had wrapped his arm around Kurt’s shoulders and held him closer than usual. At the time, Kurt hadn’t realized that anything was wrong; had smiled and snuggled into Blaine’s hold, happy for the obvious display of affection.
Kurt knows about werewolf sensory perception, about smells and how they can draw and connect the wolf to compatible people. How protective it makes the wolf, too. How ferocious and wary and on edge of potential threats. About how Blaine used to tell him how maddening Kurt smelled on the day they first met. Tantalizing and tempting, enough to make Blaine shiver and twitch from the strain of holding back, terrified of ruining everything before it even started.
It’s like human pheromones and attraction, Blaine had said once, when Kurt had pushed him to explain. His ever-so-proper encyclopaedic side peeking out. If someone smells good, they’re more attractive, yeah? Only... it’s more than that. It draws. Says ‘this person is good for you’, and... Blaine had thrown his hands into the air, apparently unable to properly explain. It’s not usually this intense, even for wolves; it varies from person to person. I have no idea why you smell the way you do to me, Kurt. Maybe it just means we’re perfect for each other? And Kurt had rolled his eyes and huffed at the soppy comment, and that was that.
Kurt knows, too, that scent attraction doesn’t limit itself because of petty little human labels like ‘dating’ or ‘taken’ or ‘in a relationship’. And it certainly doesn’t have to be reciprocated.
In that moment, it strikes Kurt how very, very unfair the entire situation is for all three of them.
“If this is all you want to talk about,” says Kurt at last, after the long pause. “Then I’m not sure I want to talk to you right now.”
And with that, he turns and walks down the hallway. Through the buzzing in his ears, Kurt thinks he might hear a choked-off inhalation of breath. He doesn’t look back.
Continue on to Chapter Three (Part Two)