Blaine Anderson rolled into town like a thunderstorm, all tousled curls and scruffy cheeks, worn leather jacket and torn up jeans. He rode an old Harley that had to be almost as old as him, if Kurt judged correctly, and he worked at his dad's shop almost everyday after school, so he was a pretty good judge. Blaine Anderson had a golden glint in his eyes that kept most people away but had Kurt Hummel staring at him with some carnal desire flooding his veins.

Blaine Anderson was danger, and Kurt Hummel was hungry for it.

Everybody knew supernatural things existed. Beings, creatures, powers… It was all just brushed under the rug by the ‘normal people' and anyone who was pretending to be a ‘normal person'. It wasn't polite to talk about those things. Everyone knew they were there but nobody wanted to talk about it, so it was ignored. If only Kurt's sexuality could be considered supernatural so it would be ignored, too.

Alas, that wasn't the case, and instead he found himself fighting against the jocks who held him over their shoulders, striding over to the open dumpster with one goal in mind: toss the fag. Eloquent, yes. Kurt was ever so impressed by the vocabulary of the neanderthals he went to school with. It was his junior year and he figured he was over halfway through the total of his torture at their hands. Of course, they'd gotten worse as they got stronger, and Kurt didn't seem to be developing quite as fast. Sure, he was taller, but he was also still slim and easily manhandled. His only luck was to run away, as he was damn fast, but he was also very clumsy. It wasn't often Kurt got away from his attackers without a scratch or stain.

This time, as he braced himself for the drop and prayed there was something in there to cushion his fall while at the same time hoping it wasn't something gross, Kurt heard the squeal of tires and roar of a bike motor revving in the lot. He opened his eyes and saw the new guy, Blaine Anderson shooting the jocks an angry glare and… raising his upper lip in what could only be described as a snarl.

It looked like the rugged man was angry with them, and Kurt felt his heart race in his chest. He'd noticed Blaine's eyes on him from the moment he moved into town a week ago. Kurt had silently been hoping that he wasn't imagining things, that maybe there was finally another person who might understand him, like him even… And now he felt a shot of desire cloud over any fear that he felt for either the jocks or the ruffian biker.

There was something about those eyes that immediately made fear pulse through his body, but then there was something that soothed Kurt until he just felt… relaxed. Safe. Even as he fell from above the heads of the jocks to the concrete of the parking lot.

He hit his head and scraped his back, crying out in pain as his vision blurred and blacked for a moment before coming back, still blurred but indicating he hadn't been knocked out. One of the guys who'd been carrying him made to approach Blaine, only for the leather-clad male to reach out and clamp a strong hand around the guy's throat. “Don't fuck with him anymore, got it? Stay. Away.”

Kurt could swear he heard a silent but intensely growled ‘mine' as Blaine shook the guy slightly before letting him go, kicking his wheezing form aside and approaching Kurt. The other guys were gone in a flash, abandoning their captain out of pure fear while Blaine ignored them, instead reaching out to help Kurt off the ground, checking him over and running rough fingers through his mussed hair.

“You're bleeding,” Blaine said roughly, forcing Kurt to turn his head so he could assess the damage done. There was a scrape on the back of his head from where he'd fallen, and blood matted his hair. “I'm taking you home to get cleaned up and rest. You probably have a concussion.” There was no question to his words, and no opportunity for Kurt to say ‘no'. He was going with Blaine and he'd like it. Oddly enough, Kurt was completely okay with that.

“Hey! You gotta stay awake if you have a concussion. Plus, you need to hold on,” Blaine's voice flowed through Kurt's ears, gruff and distracting and making his pulse quicken all at once. The brunette shook his head and shifted where he stood in Blaine's arms, face going red with embarrassment as he realized he was all but nuzzling the man he barely knew. He wanted to bury his face in Blaine's chest, though. Kurt wanted to rub his face in Blaine's shirt, bury his nose in his neck and inhale his scent.

Scent? What? Kurt shook his head and tried to rid his mind of thoughts that felt almost like they weren't even his. He realized he'd been gripping Blaine's jacket in his fists and dropped it, shaking out his limbs and assessing the damage the fall had done. “Alright. I… yeah. I think I can manage that. I definitely need to get somewhere to lie down soon, though…”

Big blue eyes stared into golden-hazel and Blaine seemed to… was he seriously growling? Kurt would swear the guy was growling. Maybe it was the concussion messing with him. He shook his head, then regretting that quickly as it made him dizzier. Blaine seemed to notice, as he led the way to his bike and passed Kurt his helmet. “I'll be fine without. Get on and hold on, babe.”

Kurt would swear he was imagining the term of endearment. It was just the concussion. Hell, maybe he'd actually been tossed in the dumpster and hit his head on the metal side of it or something and was actually passed out inside. This might all be some elaborate dream his subconscious came up with while he drifted off into a coma or something. Yeah. That would make a lot more sense.

Kurt squealed when the bike revved and peeled out of the lot, leaning forward and wrapping his arms tight around Blaine, plastering himself to the man's back and holding on as tightly as he could. He was terrified and exhilarated at once. This was… thrilling. And the scariest thing in the world. Kurt wasn't sure he would ever get used to riding a motorcycle.

Wait, get used to? Why was he thinking he needed to get used to this? Kurt shook his head again, and regretted it again, feeling woozy and all the more confused. He wanted to go home and go back to bed. He wanted to ask his dad about transferring schools because he was actually getting scared of how bad he might be hurt this time, if he was indeed in a coma in the dumpster. He just wanted to wake up now, thanks.

Instead of waking up in the dumpster, Kurt opened his eyes when the bike stopped moving and the motor rolled over once before stopping altogether. He blinked a few times, then focused on that ever-more-familiar golden gaze. Blaine reached out and took his hands, helping him off the bike before swooping in and just grabbing him bridal-style, carrying him into a huge house and kicking the door closed after them.

The younger male could swear he felt some kind of exchange, even though there were no words or noises in general in the home, but he couldn't focus enough to figure out what was going on as he was carried up the stairs and to a room that smelled strongly of the leather-clad man who held him.

The room was so very Blaine. It was wild but tame all the same, window wide open and letting in the pleasant smell of nature, the cool autumn breeze, the sound of animals outside. The bed was made and everything was in its place, but there was still a wild air to it. There were torn clothes in a pile as if waiting to be mended, an empty bottle of aftershave lying on a dresser like a reminder to get more, a lone sock sticking out of a haphazardly shut drawer. Everything was put away, but it was also chaotically done. Like someone had been in a hurry or distracted. Like Blaine was never quite able to focus on one task, or maybe just unable to devote himself to something so simple as straightening his room.

There was a bathroom attached to the room, and Blaine quickly strode to it after settling Kurt on his bed, bruised head resting on the pillow. Blaine's leather jacket found its way to his desk chair along the way and Kurt shamelessly watched the man stride to him in nothing but a thin white tee and those beat up jeans.

“Let me see your head, babe. Need to make sure it's just scraped. If you got cut up I can get my mom to patch it up for you…” His voice trailed off like he hoped he wouldn't have to call his mom in. It seemed to Kurt that Blaine wanted to take care of him all on his own for some reason, and that was fine with him.

Kurt turned his head, letting Blaine wipe the wound with a damp cloth. All the while as Blaine snarled and cursed the jocks under his breath, soothing Kurt's head with the rag and speaking up every now and then to tell him there weren't any bad wounds, Kurt thought about the fact that Blaine had definitely called him ‘babe'. Twice.

His pulse raced and he found himself blushing as his arousal made itself known. He knew Blaine would notice. Kurt wore tight pants, after all, and he was lying on his back on this boy's bed. There would be no denying how he was affected, but at least he figured Blaine wouldn't be bothered by it. He'd called him ‘babe' after all…

Many things happened all at once, then. Kurt's hips involuntarily jerked, Blaine turned his gaze from Kurt's head to his throat and down his body to his groin, Kurt turned his head to stare at those golden eyes full of heat and desire and danger, and Blaine inhaled through flared nostrils. A deep, demanding growl ripping from the older man's throat and his upper lip pulled back, exposing a predatory smile as his eyes danced from Kurt's obvious erection back to his flushed face.

“Fuck, babe,” Blaine groaned, voice sounding more animal than human if Kurt was being honest. He wasn't sure how to react, but his hips jerked again and he whimpered without making any conscious decision to do so. Blaine's eyes sparked and his nose flared again as he inhaled even deeper, moaning. “You smell so fucking good. You smell like sex. Like mine.”

He was on Kurt in a second, even as the pale brunette tried to figure out what Blaine meant. How could he possibly smell him? His… arousal? That wouldn't be smelled by any… normal… human… The thought hit Kurt hard just as Blaine palmed him through his pants and made him cry out as he came embarrassingly fast, still completely tucked away and making a mess of his briefs. It had just been so much at once. The touches and the realization that… Oh, god. Blaine was a…

The older man trailed his nose down Kurt's body from neck along chest, down over hips to groin, leaning into the wetness that was already seeping through his briefs and into the denim of his pants, and then Blaine howled. Kurt groaned, hips bucking as his spent dick twitched in his pants. Blaine was a werewolf. And he liked the way Kurt smelled. He liked the way Kurt's cum smelled. Kurt had no idea how to react to that, but… the pull toward Blaine that he'd felt since the rugged male had shown up in town only increased as said male nuzzled his crotch.

“Need you. Gotta have you. Mine. Gonna make you mine,” Blaine spoke but his words were hardly more than growls of want and need. Kurt heard them, though, and they made him pulse with desire. He wanted to be taken. He wanted Blaine to claim him. Kurt let out a delicious whine as he felt Blaine's fingers work his fly open, rough hands grabbing his hips and pulling the waist of his pants down, down, down… His underwear was ripped, literally torn from his body, before Blaine's mouth was on him, swallowing him down to the base in a hot, wet heat that had him keening for more. Kurt buried his hands in Blaine's curls as the older male roughly held him down by his hips, fingers sure to leave bruises that Kurt would cherish. God, it just felt so good.

Blaine pulled off with a loud, wet pop and Kurt shivered all over, whining and whimpering desperately. “I'll take care of you, babe,” Blaine growled, voice extra rough thanks to the fact that he'd just had Kurt deep in his throat. He palmed Kurt's balls as he looked up at the boy, a glimmer in those golden eyes. “Take off your shirt. I want you naked. I want all of you.” It was a command and Kurt had no desire not to follow it.

Just as Blaine sunk back over his rigid cock, wrapping those talented lips around him with a growl that shot vibrations to Kurt's core, Kurt worked the buttons of his shirt open and slid his arms out of it, pulling his undershirt off and tossing both layers away without a care. He wanted anything and everything Blaine would give him, he was so blinded by lust, and he didn't want anything to get in his way.

Kurt heard a ripping noise and looked down to see Blaine's shirt shredded and falling to the floor as the man pulled away from his cock, oh God, why was he pulling away?, and crawled up his body. He jerked his hips upward and Blaine dropped his own down, rutting against him even with his jeans still on. “Patience, Kurt,” he demanded, trailing his lips along Kurt's upper chest, nipping at his nipples and licking up to his neck where he bit. Hard.

“Oh, fuck! Blaine!” Kurt screamed as the man clamped his teeth down on the juncture of Kurt's neck and shoulder, grinding his teeth slightly and… yes. Kurt felt the sting as Blaine's teeth broke through his flesh. He'd just been bitten by a werewolf. Granted, it was still a week away from the full moon, but it was a heady feeling nonetheless. Kurt groaned, grinding his hips up against Blaine as his warm tongue lapped over the abused flesh.

There was no apology for the bite. Blaine licked until it stopped bleeding, then moved along to mark Kurt's flesh with hickeys and bruises. His chest and throat were covered by the time Blaine worked his hands down and undid his pants, removing the jeans to reveal a lack of underwear and an obvious hardon. Kurt made a noise like a squeak and a grunt mixed together, which made Blaine chuckle.

His nose was in Kurt's neck soon, inhaling and licking at his skin as he worked their eager cocks together, not quite getting either of them to climax but working Kurt to the edge enough that he whimpered with painful arousal. “‘m gonna fuck you, babe. Gonna claim you so good. Gonna mate with you. Make you my bitch. You're mine. Never gonna be anybody else's. Nobody else ever gets to have you, taste you, fucking see you. Mine.” Blaine's words were like promises, twisting hot and tight in Kurt's gut as he reached down and started working at Kurt's entrance. At some point during his talk, it seemed Blaine had gotten lube, because his fingers were slick as he roughly shoved two into Kurt's wanting but virginal body.

The younger man cried out, not ready for such an intrusion, but Blaine kept working, moving his fingers until he found the spot that made pleasure cloud Kurt's vision and override the pain of the stretch. “Mmm, there. Now you see what I can make you feel, babe,” Blaine muttered, jabbing at Kurt's prostate again before pulling back and adding a third lubed finger.

Kurt keened at the new intrusion, rocking his hips and urging Blaine on, wanting him to hurry up and deem him stretched enough. As if the werewolf had read his mind, Blaine responded. “You won't want me to stop just yet, babe. A certain… anatomical anomaly will have you happy I take my time with the stretch.” He grinned wolfishly (the very thought made Kurt giggle) and scissored his fingers.

It wasn't until four finger stretched Kurt wide that Blaine pulled his hand away and coated his cock in a thick layer of lube. He peered at Kurt with a predatory gaze as he climbed over him, shoving hands under the younger boy's knees and thrusting them up hard to his chest, hoisting his ass into the air and opening him wide as Blaine lined up his rigid member and pushed into Kurt's previously untouched heat.

Blaine's hips bucked, giving him that last oomph to get all the way into Kurt, and the brunette screamed. A hot mix of pain and pleasure filled his body, even though he was thoroughly stretched, it was still so much! It was so new! He was completely overwhelmed, especially when he felt the slightly larger bulge at the base of Blaine's cock.

Oh. Oh. The ‘anomaly' that Blaine was talking about. Oh, fuck. He was a werewolf. Kurt had heard about it, but nobody really discussed… inhuman beings. Not more than rumors. He had no idea that knots were a real thing! He was… Oh, god. His first time and he was going to be stretched around that. It was simultaneously the hottest and scariest thing Kurt had ever experienced, and he moaned as he felt Blaine pull out only to thrust deep inside again, the knot growing ever so slightly with each drag.

He knew eventually it would stay inside, but until it was bigger, Blaine would keep pulling out and diving back in wholeheartedly. And that made Kurt's mouth water. He pulled on the older man's curls, dragging his face up so that their lips could meet. Finally he was kissing Blaine, and Kurt realized this was their first kiss, while Blaine was balls deep in his ass, fucking him, claiming him. It seemed backwards, but also right somehow, and Kurt decided he didn't want to think about it anymore.

Licking into Blaine's mouth, Kurt tasted a faint flavor of salty bitterness that had to have been his precum from before. There was a metallic tang, his blood, and there was a flavor that was distinctly Blaine. Kurt liked it. He liked all of it. Loved that his flavors were on Blaine's tongue. He groaned into Blaine's mouth as the man shoved deep into his body and stayed there, knot swelling enough to fill Kurt to a burning stretch.

The werewolf kept pistoning his hips, moving inside of Kurt even while he was kept in place by his body's will and ability. He was fucking him to mate. To claim. Kurt was his and everyone would know. Somehow he knew that any other wolf would be able to smell the claim, and it made his pulse flutter in his veins.

Blaine growled as the jerk of his hips grew erratic and he reached down to tug on Kurt's cock, quickly bringing him to orgasm and howling as they both exploded at once. Kurt came hard over both their stomachs while Blaine kept moving inside of him through his own orgasm, coming and coming, filling Kurt up and even leaking around his stuffed rim.

The fact that Blaine was still hard and pulsing and stuck inside of him had Kurt whimpering softly, twitching with oversensitivity as he came down from his orgasm and realized he couldn't escape the constant touch to his prostate, the stimulation of hot cum spurting inside of him and that knot stretching him wide. He buried his face in Blaine's neck, crying softly at the sensations. The pleasure and pain and overwhelming emotions. He just couldn't handle it. He cried and Blaine held him, hushing him as he came down from his own high and blind horniness and went into nurture mode.

“Shh, babe, it's okay. Did I hurt you? I'm sorry, Kurt, I'm sorry,” he murmured into Kurt's ear, stroking his back and holding him close as they waited for the knot to go down. “You just smelled so good… always smell so good. But this time… you were hard, Kurt. I couldn't ignore that! I… I'm not sorry about taking you. You're mine, babe. Mine. My mate. My everything.”

Kurt was shocked to hear the intimidating ‘bad boy' sound so sincere. There was still that predatory edge to his words, but there was also… dare he think love? Kurt looked at him with wide blue eyes, able to think clearly now that the lust-cloud had faded. “I… I'm not going to lie. I'm scared,” he said softly, running fingers through Blaine's curls as the older man shifted his hips, finally able to pull away from his body though it stung a bit. They probably should have waited a bit longer, but Blaine needed to hold his mate and he couldn't do that when they were attached by his knot.

Gathering Kurt in his arms, Blaine held him close and kept running his hands over his back in a calming gesture. “I understand. I… I won't turn you if you don't want me to, even though I really want to make you as much my mate as possible, which means making you a wolf. I… Kurt, I need you. You smell like home.” Blaine whined, then, like a dog, and Kurt felt his heart crash against his chest.

He crashed his own body against Blaine's and kissed along his throat, surprising the older man. “I… I want everything with you, Blaine. I don't know why and I don't know how. I am terrified of these feelings- they make no sense! I don't even know you. I just… I need you.” He locked his gaze with that of golden hazel and everything seemed to make sense even if he didn't have explanations for any of it. “You have to meet my dad. And explain to him. And I need a shower. Ugh. This is gross,” he motioned to the cum all over his stomach and groin and leaking out of his ass and down his thighs, making Blaine bark out a laugh.

“As long as your dad doesn't have any silver bullets, you've got a deal. But I'm taking that shower with you. You still have a concussion, and I won't have my mate falling over or passing out in my shower.”