-We’re Not a Family-

Kurt sat on the couch in the position he had possessively claimed next to his father, despite Carol’s obvious desire for the space. Carol and Finn sat across from them with several empty pizza boxes strewn across the table that separated the two families. Finn steadfastly stared off in the distance, not making eye contact, as he descended further into a sullen resentful mood that puzzled Kurt.  The earlier giddy excitement of being rescued had long since evaporated as they ate pizza and tried to pretend they were some sort of normal group of humans. Occasionally, Carol and Burt exchanged little smiles and glances that hinted at a shared secret that they weren't ready to voice.

Kurt looked at the chaotic remains of the pizza they had hastily consumed. Suddenly, the term ‘wolfing down’ popped into Kurt’s head and he had to suppress a laugh as he took
another bite.

“So, Mrs. Hudson,” Kurt started.

“Call me Carol,” Carol insisted, warmly. Kurt looked at her with thoughtful scrutiny as he tried to reconcile this seemingly gentle, sweet woman with the wolf that had tossed Holly across the room with intent to kill.

“You’re a werewolf,” Kurt stated.

“Have been my whole life,” she agreed cheerfully as if the news were perfectly ordinary.

“But,” Kurt said, trying to put into words all the questions that had plagued him since he witnessing her transformation. “What about the ur ur,” he growled inarticulately, mimicking what he hoped were monstrous claw motions with his hands. “Aren’t you supposed to be this half wolf monster? You were a wolf. An actual wolf! And the moon; what about the moon? Aren’t you only supposed to turn on the full moon?” he asked, his voice pitching a little higher with each question asked in rapid succession (as it tended to do when he got too excited).  

“That’s a common misconception,” she clarified. “I was born a werewolf and I come from a long line of werewolves. We can change into a wolf anytime we wish and we are always in complete control. What you’re thinking of is someone who was infected with a bite. They are often called werewolves too, but really, it isn’t the same at all.”

“That’s what Mr. Shue showed me in his books. He never said anything about someone like you. ” said Kurt before turning to Finn. “Isn’t that the kind of werewolf you are, Finn? The kind who has to be locked up during the full moon?”

 Finn squirmed uncomfortable and mumbled, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Finny, he needs to know. We’re family,” Carol scolded firmly as if he were a recalcitrant child who had forgotten to say please or thank you.

“We’re not family!” both Finn and Kurt exclaimed at the same time. The boys glared at each other as soon as it registered that they’d had the same reaction to Carol’s declaration. Kurt knew he was justified in his resentment of Finn but he couldn’t imagine the source of Finn’s sullen attitude. If anything, he thought the boy should be grateful for Burt’s acceptance.

“To answer your question, Kurt, it’s complicated,” Carol answered ignoring both the outburst and the boys’ obvious animosity.  “I’m a pure blood which means both of my parents were wolves as were their parents before them. Finn’s father was bitten.”

“You bit your husband?” Kurt asked in a shocked voice.

“No, of course not!” Carol objected, clearly offended by the accusation.  “He was bitten before I met him.”

“So Finn got it from his father?” Kurt asked thoughtfully as he tried to piece out the rules in his mind.

“Children of bitten werewolves don’t inherit the curse,” Carol explained. “And children of purebloods and humans are almost always human. If he’d been pureblood, he would have started turning as a baby but Finn only started turning recently and only on the full moon like someone who’d been infected. It’s all very strange. I can only guess that somehow the combination of his father’s infection and my genes made him something unique. It caught me by surprise and frankly I’ve been overwhelmed dealing with it. It’s my hope that he’ll eventually learn control like a pureblood. Maybe even take a true wolf form.” She gave Finn an indulgent smile as if to say ‘it’s fine that you are a little slow developing.’ She clearly wasn’t accepting the truth that Finn wasn’t like her and probably never would be.

“Sorry to be such a disappointment to you,” Finn said sullenly.

Carol ignored her son’s attitude and smiled fondly at Burt.

“Should we tell him now?” she asked with impatient excitement.

Burt nodded and addressed Kurt.

“Kurt, we have some big news,” Burt said with barely contained excitement.  “I’ve asked Carol and Finn to move in with us,” raising his eyebrows hopefully and nodding his head as if willing Kurt to be happy for him.

 Burt watched his son’s face carefully looking for signs that this news was unwelcome. He knew Kurt well enough to be prepared for resentment at the idea of sharing his father. 

“You knew about this?” Kurt shot at Finn. Finn’s sour expression indicated that he had.

“Isn’t this wonderful, Kurt?” Carol gushed. “This place could really use a woman’s touch and I know you and I will get along famously. And you and Finn have so much in common.”

“Don’t worry,” Burt assured Kurt, “Finn will have his own room.”

“So much in common?” Kurt questioned bitterly.

“You finding out that you are the Slayer and Finn finding out that he’s a werewolf,” Carol clarified, looking a little hurt at Kurt’s obvious lack of excitement over the news.

“We’ve bonded over so much already,” Kurt said with a glare. “Just last year we had a mutual experience that cemented our relationship for life, I think.”

“Sorry,” Finn mumbled.

“Was that an apology?” Kurt asked heatedly.  “Now, you’re sorry?” Kurt sniped. “Now?  How about when you invaded my entire circle of friends by joining the glee club. How about when you found out my dad was dating your mom? How about tonight when I save you life? How about,  thank you, Kurt. Thanks for saving my life. ”

“Enough!” yelled Burt standing up. “I don’t like your attitude, buddy. I know you’re jealous of my relationship with Finn but I thought we settled that. That is no reason to be rude to Finn.”

“My attitude? What about his?” Kurt yelled back. “I saved his life and he sits here all night in our house, eating our food, acting like I did something to him!” Kurt gave Finn a warning glare that he hoped conveyed the threat of exposure of his behavior their sophomore year. Kurt didn’t really want to share that sort of hate with his father, but he would if things went on much longer.

“You? You didn’t save my life - that was my mom! Your kind killed my father and you aren’t any better. Ms. Holiday told me that you murdered Dave Karofsky,” Finn spat with the venomous anger that had been hiding behind his sullen exterior all evening. “It’s true,” Finn said defensively. “The police are looking for him but the truth is that he murdered Dave and got rid of the body. He’s something called a slasher and he murders people!”

“Oh, you’re going with something that a woman who tried to cut out your heart told you? Real smart, Finn,” Kurt said sarcastically. Outwardly, Kurt remained defiant and angry but the accusation cut deeper than any hate slur ever could. “And it the Slayer, Finn. As in, there is only one and I’m it. I kill monsters not people - you don’t know what you’re talking about!”

Burt looked at Carol and began speaking to her in a heartbroken tone.  “I can’t…I just can’t...Carol…,” he tried to say nearly on the verge of tears. He looked like a man whose whole world had fallen apart.

“Please don’t say anything that you’ll regret later, sweetheart. Just talk to your son and let me talk to mine. Sleep on it and we’ll talk tomorrow,” she pleaded as she stood and walked over to Finn.

Burt stood silent and Carol took that as an affirmation. Carol grabbed Finn’s ear and twisted it painfully as she pulled him to his feet.

“Ow, ow, ow,” he cried as she dragged the boy who normally towered over her to the door. Kurt might have felt sorry for him under other circumstances but he deserved his mother’s treatment. What sort of person took the word of an evil sorcerous who had been planning to literally eat your heart?

After the Hudsons left, father and son sat together on the couch. Burt held his son close as Kurt put his head on his father’s shoulder.

“I just want to be normal, Dad. Is that too much to ask?” Kurt finally said. “I want to walk down the halls holding hands with my boyfriend. I want to dress up and go to the prom. I want to think about normal teenage things like fashion and pop culture - not about monsters and murders. I don’t want to have blood on my hands,” he sobbed. 

“It’s a terrible burden,” Burt agreed, numbly as if by rote.

“I didn’t choose this life,” Kurt complained. “I didn’t ask to be the Slayer.”

“I know, Buddy,” Burt answered a little more sympathetically as if just waking up to his son’s pain.

“I don’t want to be alone,” he said brokenly.

“Nobody does,” Burt agreed numbly.

Realization hit Kurt and he pulled back to get a better view of his father. When Kurt was a child, they had only had each other. Despite missing his mother, he had thought that could be enough, but he was realizing just how lonely that must have been for his father.

“Do you love her?” Kurt asked.

“I do,” Burt answered simply. “But, Kurt, you’re my son and I won’t let them live here if you can’t forgive Finn.”

“Forgive him?” Kurt asked incredulously. “He doesn’t deserve forgiveness.”

“Oh, Kurt, don’t be so harsh. It’s not all Finn’s fault. Carol will explain everything and he’ll apologize. It’s hard finding out about monsters, vampires, demons, and slayers. I think we all forgot how much Finn has been through lately. Try to understand but, Kurt, if you can’t, then it’s just you and me kiddo and I’m OK with that. You’re my son and you come first in my life. I can’t have Finn living here if you two can’t mend fences.”

The sadness in Burt’s eyes told a different story and Kurt wished for his father's sake that he could be a good enough person to forgive Finn. He didn’t feel like he could. It didn’t help that his father didn’t really understand the full history behind Kurt’s animosity toward Finn. It was yet another unwanted burden that he wanted nothing more than to have it taken from him. He hoped his father didn’t mean it when he claimed that he would rescind the invitation to the Hudsons. If he would just insist that they had to all get along, the burden wouldn’t be on Kurt’s shoulders.

“Can I just go to bed for now? It’s been a long day - evil substitute Watcher and all.”

“We’ll talk tomorrow - or whenever you’re ready.”

Kurt had only made it up a few steps when Finn’s word’s came rushing back to him.

“Dad, what did Finn mean by ‘your kind killed my father?’”

“Kurt, let’s not get into it now.”

“I need to know.”

“He was killed by bounty hunters specializing in werewolf trophies. Kurt, you can’t let anyone convince you that it is the same thing. Finn may think so but I know better. The Slayer protects the innocent. He’ll understand that someday.”

“Mr. Shue says Slayers used to kill werewolves.”

“They don’t any more, though. So, don’t blame yourself for things that are in the past.”

Kurt's movements were robotic and unfeeling as he went through his nightly moisturizing routine.  He stared at his reflection in his vanity and laughed mirthlessly when it finally dawned on him that Finn Hudson was afraid of him. The irony was too much to deal with. Kurt dressed in his pajamas, took out his phone, and texted Blaine. 

It wasn’t long before the vampire was at his window.

-Demon in Bed-

It was an innocent picture from the outside. Blaine lying on Kurt’s bed fully clothed, having only shed his shoes before making himself comfortable. Kurt lying just inches away, in his silk blue pajamas without a hint of bare skin below the neck. They weren’t touching but the air felt electric to Kurt. He was lost in Blaine’s eyes, so close to his own, he could see the unbelievably enormous pupils that made his normally hazel eyes seem black. 

Kurt berated himself for being so ridiculously distracted by the nearness of Blaine’s body, even while they were simply lying there not doing anything remotely sensual. He was sure Blaine, being so worldly and experienced, thought nothing of it.

Blaine was utterly fascinated by Kurt’s eyelashes to the point that he had to stop himself several times from getting so close that they could flutter against his skin. His desire to touch Kurt was becoming so overwhelming that he finally gave in and fingered the lettering on his silk pajamas commenting casually, “Do you wear monogrammed pajamas to bed every night or is this a special occasion?”

He was rewarded with a bright flush to Kurt’s cheeks. His mouth quirked up a twitch at the sight. He was used to the presence of naked self-assured, unashamed vampires but Kurt’s innocence was affecting him in ways he had not thought possible.

“Sleepwear should be just as elegant as formalwear,” Kurt replied haughtily. Secretly, he wanted to ask Blaine what he slept in but didn’t dare. Did he sleep in boxers or maybe even naked? For some reason, Kurt was sure that he didn’t wear pajamas.

“How did you figure out Ms. Holiday was evil?” Blaine asked reluctantly removing his hand from its task of exploring Kurt’s chest though the fine silky material. 

Kurt shrugged.

“I didn’t really know for sure but so many things didn’t add up. I never trusted her but I didn’t really think she was up to anything until Mr. Shue had that mysterious relapse. Holly had practically hand-fed Mr. Shue a batch of brownies she had baked when he came back to work - or so Coach Sylvester said. After I heard about that,  I started to put two and two together. It only took a little sleuthing to find out that everyone affected had eaten her cookies. I guess it should have occurred to me sooner than none of the students were stricken - only teachers.”;

“You were distracted,” Blaine suggested. “By everything going on with your family,” Blaine amended hastily when Kurt looked embarrassed by the comment.

Kurt thought back to the night he’d confided in Ms. Holiday about is family distractions. He’d uncharacteristically bawled all over her blouse and he really didn’t understand why he lost control of himself like that. He hadn’t really trusted her and yet, in that moment, he’d felt so safe and loved that he’d forgotten his suspicions. It reminded him of how he felt when he sat in the attic with the drawer to his mom’s old dresser open so he could smell her perfume, which still permeated the broken relic. 

“Oh my god,” Kurt exclaimed with the realization. “I don’t know how she did it but she smelled like my mom! How is that even possible? They don’t even make that perfume any more and how would she know?” 

Blaine, having not been privy to Kurt’s inner monologue, looked confused.

“Ms. Holiday somehow smelled like my mom’s perfume,” Kurt explained. “I didn’t realize it at the time but maybe that had something to do with the way I kept trusting her even when I had my suspicions. It’s so embarrassing to have been fooled by her,” Kurt admitted shamefully.

“Smell is a powerful emotional tool to use on humans. She might have been using a glamour to evoke the scent. She is obviously a very powerful sorceress,” Blaine explained kindly. “Don’t blame yourself. She fooled everyone. Even your Watcher.”

Kurt snorted in derision. 

“Tell me about it. Apparently, the Watchers are a bunch of incompetent idiots. They don’t even know there are two kinds of werewolves!”

“It’s not common knowledge,” Blaine insisted. “Purebloods are a secretive group. They are shy and protective of their world. Also, they are peaceful and aren’t likely to bother humans often enough to garner the attention of groups like the Watchers.”

“I have a lot to learn about this supernatural world,” Kurt admitted softly. So much had changed in so little time. It hadn’t been that long since he’d be unwilling to even invite Blaine into his room and now the boy was in his bed. He’d been sure there was some natural explanation for everything but now he had undeniable proof of magic. He couldn’t explain a woman transforming into a wolf any other way.

“I’ll help you. Do you want to go with me tomorrow to check out a fire demon nest?”

“I don’t want to talk about Slayer stuff any more tonight,” said Kurt, wishing he could erase the entire day’s events from his mind.

“What do you want to talk about?” 

“Let’s play a game.”

“Alright, what are the rules?”

“It’s called would you rather. I ask you a question and you have to answer right a way - without thinking about it.  I’ll start. Would you rather be an oak tree or a red wood?”

“What? Why would you ask me that?” Blaine laughed.

“No, no, you’re not playing it right. You have to answer right away!”

“OK, a redwood.”

“I knew it,” Kurt replied with an excited laugh.

“My turn?” Blaine asked. Kurt nodded biting his lip with anticipation.

“Would you rather…, ” Blaine paused looking thoughtful. “Would you rather be a Mark Jacob's messenger bag or a pair of Doc Martins lace up boots?”

“Boots,” Kurt exclaimed gleefully. “I’d totally be the boots!”

Both boys were laughing hysterically by the time that they found out Blaine would rather be a polo pony than llama and that Kurt would rather be an alien than a robot. The questions and answers were all whimsical and silly which was the point of the game.

Their conversation devolved to talking fashion after they tired of the game. Mostly Kurt talked and Blaine listened but somehow, along the way, Blaine began to feel like a teenage boy rather than a two hundred and fifty year old vampire. Kurt made him feel human in a way he didn’t remember feeling even when he had been human.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Kurt asked shyly.

“Anything,” Blaine replied, reaching out and touch Kurt’s shoulder encouragingly.

“I don’t want to be the Slayer.”

“That’s not much of a secret,” Blaine teased trying to lighten the mood. When Kurt didn’t rise to the challenge, Blaine added softly, “What if you didn’t have to be? What would you want to do with you life?”

Kurt smile so brightly that Blaine’s heart ached at the thought that Kurt had a life that kept him from smiling like that all the time.

“A designer,” Kurt explained quickly. “I’d be good at it too. I mean, I am good at it. Everyone thinks I’m this huge label whore but I just know the difference between what’s quality and what isn’t. Half the things I wear, I designed and sewed myself. People just think it’s expensive fashion designer stuff.”

“Wow, I’m impressed.”

“What about you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Surely, you haven’t always been a student at Dalton. Wouldn’t people notice that you never graduated?”

“Actually, I haven’t always been with the Warblers but I have been there for about eighty years. It’s sort of an open secret that the Warblers are supernatural. I don’t know how many people just ignore what’s right in front of them and how many are really that clueless, but we have a long-standing relationship with the town’s officials.”

“So all your talk of protecting the citizens of Westerville - that’s some sort of official job? You’re like a super hero?”

Blaine snorted at the idea.

“No, more like a we are the security alarm sign in your front yard. Westerville is very quiet. Almost everyone knows it is our territory. Besides, with Lima being on a Hellmouth most of the troublesome demons are attracted here instead.”

“You’ve been in high school for eighty years?” Kurt asked skeptically. “Why?”

“I’m doing what I really love - performing. I always wanted to be a singer. It’s what I wanted even when I was human. I can’t become a famous rock star or anything like that, but I love singing with the Warblers. They are my family now. We don’t really attend class much…or ever, actually.”

Kurt started giggling at the thought of a vampire who lived at a boarding school but never went to class for eighty years. 

“I’m glad my life amuses you so much,” Blaine huffed.

“It’s hilarious,” Kurt managed to choke out. 

“It is; isn’t it?” Blaine agreed.

“Why don’t you go to New York and sing for tips in coffee shops?” Kurt asked seriously once he had recovered from his laughing fit.

Blaine shrugged.

“Maybe I will someday. There’s no hurry.”

“I’m going to New York as soon as I graduate,” Kurt assured him.

“What about the Hellmouth?”

“Fuck the Hellmouth,” Kurt exclaimed then clapped his hand over his mouth, mortified at his own profanity.

“I agree,” Blaine said. “I’ll go with you and sing in the coffee shops like you suggested.”

“Really?” Kurt asked wide eyed.

“Why not?” Blaine suggested.

“Sure, why not,” he agreed playfully, not really believing their words to be more than a game. 

“I should go,” Blaine insisted. “I have to be home before sunrise.”

Despite his words, Blaine didn’t move to leave right away. Kurt’s eye began to droop and with each blink it took him longer to open his them again. 

“Do you sleep all day in a coffin?” he asked drowsily.

Blaine snorted at that and didn’t answer at first.

“Seriously, do you sleep all day?” Kurt insisted.

“No, some vampires do because it’s convenient but if you’re integrated in human society then it’s easier to keep human hours. And no coffin. I don’t even know where some of that silly stuff comes from. Hollywood, I guess.”

 “Does your heart beat?” Kurt asked feeling like a five year old with so many questions, but he wanted to know everything about Blaine.

Instead of answering, Blaine took Kurt’s hand and placed it on his chest . Kurt could feel the faint but steady beating of Blaine's heart under his hand, though it seemed slower than a regular human heart. He leaned in and replaced his hand with his ear on Blaine’s chest so he could hear the slow thumping. Blaine unconsciously adjusted his position to lie on his back with Kurt draped over him, head on Blaine’s chest.  Blaine’s hand came to rest comfortably on Kurt’s waist just above his hip. He closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing slow and steady. 

“That makes sense,” Kurt commented. “That’s why a stake through the heart kills a vampire.”

“If you used metal, I’d heal,” Blaine corrected. “If you cut the heart out, on the other hand, that would be fatal. Fatal but slow and painful. It can take a day or more for a vampire to die after having his heart removed.”

“How do you even know that? That’s horrible,” Kurt exclaimed pushing himself up to look into Blaine’s eyes. He moved away from Blaine and sat on the edge of the bed.

Blaine immediately missed Kurt’s comforting weight and warmth on his body. Blaine wished that he could back track to a few seconds before when they had been practically cuddling. He should have left well enough alone. Now wasn’t the time to introduce Kurt to some of the more gruesome aspects of vampire politics. It was complex and confusing and perhaps completely incomprehensible for a human. 

“It’s complicated,” Blaine answered evasively.

Kurt’s sassy scowl ended Blaine’s attempt to dodge the topic.

“Sometimes - if the offense is egregious - an older vampire might rip out the heart of a younger vampire. It doesn’t happen often. You’re right, it is horrible.”

Kurt’s eyes widened in shock.

“What sort of thing would lead someone to rip out another person’s heart?” Kurt gasped.

Blaine smiled at Kurt’s use of the word ‘person’, instead of vampire. 

“Murder is the only offense terrible enough. Murder of someone that the vampire held most dear.”

“Murder? Vampires kill humans all the time. Don’t deny it because I know it’s true.”

“It isn’t considered murder to kill humans,” Blaine admitted guiltily. “Even if the human…even if the human is a friend of a vampire.”

“Friend?” Kurt asked skeptically. “That isn’t what you were going to say was it?”

“Nothing gets past you does it?” smiled despite his reticence. He couldn’t help but admire Kurt’s attitude. “Even if the human ‘belongs’ to a vampire I was going to say.” Blaine admitted avoiding Kurt’s eyes.

“Sorry,” he said with an apologetic shrug. He hadn’t meant to let Kurt know about things that would cause the boy to distrust vampires more than he already did.

Kurt snorted in amusement.

“I hope the Warblers don’t think I belong to you like some sort of pet.”

Blaine laughed at the thought of anyone owning Kurt Hummel.

“No, you are the Slayer and your relationship with the Warblers is based on that; not that fact that you and I are friends.”

“So, by murder, you mean killing another vampire,” Kurt said thoughtfully, picking up the thread of their conversation. 

“But you’re patrolling with me,” Kurt said in a horrified voice. “Are you going to get in trouble for that?”

“No,” Blaine assured him. “No, those are just young rogues. They are out of control and not under anyone’s protection. Everyone expects them to die. It’s hard to explain to a human.”

“Try,” Kurt urged him.

“Progeny are expected to die-“

“Progeny?”

“When a vampire creates another vampire that is his progeny. Many don’t survive. First of all, some humans just don’t rise even if you do everything correctly. Then, even after they rise, some don’t take to vampire life and just don’t thrive. Finally, once they go out into the world on their own, many of them don’t have what it takes to survive. It’s generally accepted that if that a vampire doesn’t have the skills to be discrete then it’s no crime to kill him.”

“Wow, how Darwinian of you.”

“It’s more complicated then that. It has to do with how old you are and how many friends you’ve made over the years. The older you are the more risky it is for another vampire to cross you; both because vampires get more powerful as they age and because they form networks of relationships - ties forged with blood and sex.”

“That’s so tragic,” Kurt said sadly.

Blaine gave him a puzzled look so Kurt continued.

“Just because someone is young and doesn’t have many friends, no one cares if he’s murdered. That’s terrible,” Kurt clarified.

“Since when do you see killing vampires as murder?” Blaine chided him gently.

“Maybe since just now,” Kurt answered softly.

Blaine took Kurt’s hands in his and said gently, “They’re dangerous to humans and vampires alike. Some people just aren’t meant to be vampires. What else can you do with them?”

The conversation was heavy but Kurt was exhausted so he sank back down beside Blaine. He yawned and closed his eyes for just a second meaning to continue the conversation.  Instead,  he dozed off. He looked so beautiful and peaceful that Blaine wanted to kiss him before he left but he resisted the urge to take an uninvited liberty. Instead, he quietly left the bed and tried to slipped out the window without waking the boy.

“Blaine?” Kurt asked.

“I thought you were asleep; I didn’t want to wake you.”

Kurt padded over to the vampire and wrapped his arms around him. Blaine sank into the taller boy and took the opportunity to bask in his warmth and breathe in his heady scent.

“Good night.” Kurt whispered with a voice much lower than Blaine was used to hearing from him.

“Good night,” Blaine replied before reluctantly disentangling himself.

-Visit to Brittany-

Blaine hadn’t planned on visiting Brittany but his car pulled into her driveway almost of its own accord. He had checked on her many times but he hadn’t actually spoken to her in far too long. Even though there were no hard and fast rules for relationships between sire and progeny, he knew that his interactions with Brittany were as far from the norm for vampires. There was nothing normal about Brittany which had been true long before Blaine had turned her.

Blaine stood on her porch and silently called for her to come to him. When she opened the door, she stood just inside and stared at him expectantly.

“I have to be invited in,” he reminded her patiently as if they hadn’t done this dozens of times before.

“Come in,” she said dutifully.

He sighed and rolled his eyes. He wondered if she did it on purpose or really forgot every single time. He reminded himself that either way, it wasn’t her fault. There was plenty of fault to go around for her condition but it all rested firmly on his shoulders.

“By a human, Brittany. A human has to invite me.”

“Should I wake my little brother?” she asked innocently and Blaine’s heart nearly exploded with panic. Of all the members of her human surrogate family, her little brother was one he absolutely couldn’t face. They never spoke of her first brother - the seven year old human boy so precious to her when she was alive. Her surrogate families always mirrored her real one both in appearance and in composition. She chose a new one every few years and compelled them to care for her. Did she even know they weren’t the same ones? 

He shuddered at the memory that rose unbidden in his mind of the way he’d finally wrung the broken sobs and pleas from her before turning her. Only her small, fragile brother had been motivation enough to break her. He recalled being disappointed that it hadn’t been more satisfying to hear Brittany beg for her brother’s life. 

“Just come outside,” he ordered impatiently. 

She readily complied and stepped into the night. When he pulled her into a hug, she returned it with enthusiasm and, for a moment, he let himself believe they were a family. He loved her so much and the long stretches when she wasn’t in his arms were torture for him.

“How have you been?” he asked without letting her go. 

“Good,” she replied. “My parents are very good to me. They never complain when I ride in the trunk of the car and they always remind me when it is daytime so I don’t accidentally go out into the sun. I asked my little brother’s soccer coach to schedule all of his games at night so I can go.”

“That’s nice,” Blaine murmured without really paying attention to her words. 

The beating pulse on Brittany’s neck distracted him as her blood called to him. He let his transformation take him and sunk his teeth into her neck without warning. As her cool soothing blood flowed into his mouth, she took a delicate bite into his neck and began drawing his life force into her. She’d always been a neat eater even as a newborn and had the knack for making the smallest most unobtrusive wounds possible to get blood.

They stayed in each other’s arms, letting the blood bond overtake them without regard to the time. The resulting calm in Blaine’s mind was a precious gift that it seemed he was rarely allowed in recent times.

When he finally pulled back from his beloved progeny, and put his hand on her face, he asked her what he always did during these visits, not expecting different answer

“Come home with me,” he asked quietly. “We’ve been apart too long.”

She shook her head and said simply, “I’m not ready.”

“I could make you,” Blaine said with a dangerous edge in his voice. 

Brittany held her head higher and said with a little bit of a pout, “Lord Tubbington says you can’t make me do anything.” 

Unfortunately, just as she said his name, the loathsome, obese feline arrived and began rubbing at her legs. 

Blaine looked down at the hated creature and hissed. The cat hissed back and Blaine could almost swear the vile beast was laughing at him.

Brittany scooped the cat up and turned him on his back and to rub his belly while making cooing noises.

“I wonder if he’d say that if I broke his neck,” Blaine threatened in frustration.

Brittany’s eyes narrowed at the words and Blaine wished he could take them back.

“He’s being a very bad daddy, isn’t he, Tubby ?” Brittany said in a childish voice. “The daddy I have now is so much nicer,” she continued with a pout. “He never does anything mean at all.”

“I’m sorry,” Blaine begged. “You can bring the cat with you; just come home.”

It was too late, she had already turned away from him, entering the house where he couldn’t follow. Before she shut the door, he could have sworn that he saw Lord Tubbington smirking gleefully at him over Brittany’s shoulder.

As Blaine made his way to his car, his mind cast back to his conversation with Wes about his problem with his progeny. Of course, Wes didn’t know the full story - no one did - but he knew some of the circumstance surrounding Brittany’s relationship with him.

…perhaps things are awry due to your own strange tendencies. As I said, I make allowance due to your unusual circumstances but you must admit it can be vexing for all of us at times. She could be of great use to us with her rare gifts, after all, so anything you could do to bring her into the fold would be appreciated.”

“Bring her to Dalton, you mean? It is a boys’ school so isn’t that a little problematic?”

“The board has been discussing merger with our sister school, Crawford Country Day. It would be more convenient for us to have a co-ed school. Our family would be better served if we could all live together.”

Blaine knew better than to suggest that they move on from Dalton to a more amenable setting. Wes was far too entrenched at the school that he’d built to give it up. 

“I’ll see how it goes, but I doubt I’ll even speak to her. I just want to make sure that she is safe.”

“That’s exactly the sort of eccentricity I’m speaking of Blaine. How is she to mature if you are protecting her? That’s not how it is supposed to work.”

Blaine climbed into his car and wondered if Brittany was correct in her belief that he couldn’t command her. He’d never really tested his sire bond over her for anything big that she’d likely refuse.  He couldn’t help but blame that hideous beast she called Lord Tubbington in part, irrational as that was. 

In there early days together, he tried to rid himself of the hated creature that had appeared the night Brittany rose as a vampire. No matter how many times he ‘forgot’ the thing and left it behind at some inn or another it stayed with them. Brittany loved the loathsome creature so Blaine had eventually resigned to tolerated it. He was beginning to wonder just how long cats lived as this one seemed strangely persistent in their undead lives.

A strange thought crossed Blaine’s mind and was gone as quickly as it formed. He probed at it mentally like a missing tooth but he couldn’t get it back. He shook his head and shrugged. It couldn’t have been that important.

-Naked Boy in my Bed-

By the time Blaine made it back to his dorm suite, he was tired and ready to sleep. He was not expecting to find That naked in his bed. Blaine had already stripped down to his boxers and crawled into his bed before realizing something was amiss. 

Thad was on top of him pulling Blaine’s hands over his head and pinning him down before Blaine could even think of anything to say. Blaine stilled himself knowing that struggling would only excite Thad - excite him more, the evidence of his arousal already pressing into Blaine’s thigh. 

 “I’ve been waiting for you so long; I was beginning to think you weren’t coming home. I’ve been thinking about you,” Thad practically purred. He pressed his lips on Blaine’s only to be met with apathetic slackness. His tongue probed urgently and Blaine allowed it but was careful not to give the slightest impression that he was participating. 

“I’m not in the mood, Thad,” Blaine said when Thad let up his assault on Blaine’s unresponsive lips. He kept his voice carefully bored.

“Can’t you get in the mood?” Thad pleaded petulantly. “Blaine, I want you so much. Don’t you know what you do to me? The way you flirt and act so sexy when we’re performing together; I’ve been thinking about this for days just hoping you’d invite me back to your room. I got tired of waiting.”

Blaine considered giving in. It wasn’t that Thad wasn’t sexy or that it wouldn’t be fun. He knew from experience that it would be, but Thad always took it far too seriously. If Blaine had sex with him, he would start assuming they were a couple. He’d made the mistake the last time just a few years before and Thad had actually moved in with him. It had taken some diplomacy and emotionally delicate maneuvering to undo the damage. He didn’t want a repeat performance no matter how much he missed the sex they used to have before that unfortunate incident marred their convenient casual relationship.

“Fine,” Thad said angrily as he released Blaine’s arms and sat up, straddling the smaller vampire. 

“Thad,” Blaine pleaded. “Don’t be mad.”

Thad ignored him. He crawled off Blaine, slipped out of bed, and began hastily putting his clothes on. 

“It isn’t you,” Blaine lied. “I’m just not in the mood tonight. I’m tired.”

Thad was on him before the words had barely left his lips.

“Tired? Is that why you smell of him? He’s all over you, Blaine. Did you think I wouldn’t notice? The Slayer has a very distinctive smell. At least you didn’t let him fuck you!” Thad hissed.

“It’s not like that. We’re working together. That’s all. You know that Wes wants me to work with the Slayer. We’re just cleaning out nuisances and I’m keeping him out of Warbler business. You heard Wes’ instructions as clearly as I did.”

“Are you sure that’s all that it is? How can you even stand to be near such a vicious uncivilized savage?” Thad asked venomously.

“Let it go, Thad. He didn’t kill her - that was over a hundred years ago.”

Thad let go of Blaine and moved to the edge of the bed looking utterly wrecked with sadness. Blaine carefully put his arm around the boy confident that he’d lost interest anything romantic. He brushed a stray hair from Thad’s forehead and said softly, “I know it hurts but you can’t hold it against anyone today.”

“Does it ever stop?” Thad asked.

“I don’t know,” Blaine answered honestly. “My sire died two hundred years ago and I think it might have driven me a little crazy,” Blaine admitted.

“You’re a lot crazy,” Thad teased. “But I love you any way.”

“I know,” Blaine said sadly.

“Are you ever going to love me back?”

“Not the way you want me to,” Blaine admitted. 

He owed Thad the truth. He wasn’t a bad person and it wasn’t his fault that he so desperately wanted Blaine to be more than he could be. Blaine did love him but he didn’t dare say that for fear of leading him on. The love he had for Thad was like that Blaine felt for all the Warblers but it never seemed to fill the void in his heart. He didn’t know how to give the older vampire the intimacy he craved; Blaine knew what it was like to want that connection so desperately because he felt the same way. Strangely, as much as Blaine craved it, it seemed he didn’t want it from anyone who could give it to him.

“Thanks,” Thad said sincerely.

“For what? Kicking you out of my bed?” Blaine asked in surprise.

“For being honest,” Thad said with a tight smile. “You could have fucked me then kicked me out,” he teased with a hint of pain behind the words. “Like you usually do,” he added trying to make it a joke but saying it a far more bitterly than he’d intended.

“I’m sorry-” Blaine started to say but Thad was already up and half way to the door before the words left his lips.

“I won’t bother you again,” Thad said just before disappearing out the door.

Blaine fell back on his bed and signed with relief. Despite Thad’s parting words, Blaine knew he would be back in his bed eventually.

-That’s Why They Invented Masturbation-

Blaine crawled into bed and started arranging his pillows to get comfortable. He’d been tired before his encounter with Thad but as he tried to go to sleep he found that he was too restless. He tried lying on his right side, then his left, and finally curled up hugging one his pillows, imagining that he was cuddling with Kurt.

He remembered how Kurt had been draping casually and naturally across his body when he’d been listening to Blaine’s heart beat; the way his hand rested so lightly on Blaine’s chest; the way his body radiated heat.  Every movement and shift of Kurt’s body so innocently rubbing against him seemed to be etched into Blaine’s brain and the effect it was having on his was not so innocent. 

He rubbed agains one of his pillows but it was much too soft to get any sort of relieve and only served to make his growing problem worst. He felt guilty for taking matters into his own hands after kicking a beautiful horny boy out of his bed but he didn’t want Thad’s hand; he wanted Kurt’s.

He imagined it was Kurt’s hand that reached under the band of his boxers and firmly grasped his erection. No, Kurt’s touch would be tentative at first. His fingers were long and graceful and his touch would be tantalizing as he explored the unfamiliar territory. Blaine groaned at the thought as he tugged roughly on his dick. It was too dry so he reached over and fished out a bottle of lube from his night stand. He threw back his covers and let the cool air wash over him. His imagination ran with images of Kurt licking his lips - of Kurt’s delightful tongue that seemed to have a mind of its own when he was thinking mysterious thoughts. As Blaine bucked up into the tight slick circle of his fist, he thought of places that he wanted Kurt to put that tongue. Imaginary Kurt started with little kitten licks followed by slow wet stripes along the sensitive veins of Blaine’s cock. It wasn’t long until imaginary Kurt morphed from that shy virginal boy into a wanton slutty version of himself enthusiastically sucking and moaning on Blaine’s cock, heavy lidded eyes looking up at Blaine. The thought of Kurt looking at him with so much desire pushed Blaine over the edge. He continued thrusting through the aftershocks of his climax until he came down from his high and relaxed bonelessly into his bed, his hand now wet and sticky with blood. He let his hand rest on his softening cock for a moment, imagining Kurt lying here with him, his hand just resting there, as the human boy sighed softly with sated satisfaction. Blaine ached to feel Kurt’s warm breath on his neck in reality instead of his imagination. He wanted to know if Kurt would make those soft sighs of satisfaction that his mind supplied or would he do something equally perfect and yet surprising. Blaine was no stranger to sex or even cuddling but for some reason jut those few minutes of innocent contact with Kurt seem more vibrant than anything he had experienced before.

Blaine felt so relaxed and peaceful that he hated to get up but he knew he’d regret it when he woke up if he didn’t. He’d only shoved his boxers down far enough to reach his dick, so he pulled them the rest of the way off and threw them in the laundry. He padded into the bathroom and turned on the light. There was no mirror, of course, since vampires couldn’t cast a reflection in one. There was, however, a glass with a display monitor behind it and if he’d been in the mood to see himself, Blaine could have turned on the camera and had the equivalent of a mirror. It had been Jeff’s idea to install them in all the vampires’ bathrooms in lieu of mirrors. The oldest vampires had been utterly fascinated with their own images. Blaine hadn’t been immune to the charm of seeing himself for the first time. In the old days of film, it hadn’t been possible to even take a picture of a vampire but with new digital technology their images were finally recordable. It had seemed like magic to them and it might as well be for all they understood about technology. Luckily, even though his cognitive abilities were still developing, Jeff retained all his technological skills and savvy from his human days so he was able to maintain all the innovations that he’d introduced the vampires to when he’d been human.

Blaine quickly cleaned up using a warm wash cloth, too tired for a full shower, before returning to his bed. He settled down more easily now that some of his tension had been relieved.