Blaine stared around at the walls of his exam room at the doctor's office. His mind raced a mile a minute as he tried to distract himself with the posters on the benefits of getting a flu shot, and how to tell if he were having a heart attack.

He rubbed his hands together and took a deep breath, willing himself to calm down. Getting worked up would not help his issues (in fact, he'd found it exacerbated them), and he just hoped the doctor finally had some answers for him.

Blaine needed something to explain the way things had been the last few months and he needed a way to get some... relief, before he lost his mind.

There was a quiet knock on the door and then his doctor entered.

"Hello, Blaine," he greeted, his voice low and gentle.

"Hello, Dr. Michaels," Blaine replied. There was silence for a moment as the doctor sat down across from him and it was all Blaine could do not to fidget. He was actually hoping the doctor had something real and concrete he could work with, because if it turned out it was all in his head... well, Blaine was pretty sure he might cry.

"So we did several tests on you, Blaine, and at first the results were puzzling, but after few more tests," Blaine nodded, remembering when the doctor's office had called and requested he come back in to give an additional blood sample, "we think we've figured out what's going on."

"Oh thank goodness," Blaine breathed out. He wasn't sure how much more of this he could take.

"Has anyone ever suggested to you that you might have some latent werewolf genes?"

*

It started in the spring. Blaine had just turned eighteen, he was finishing his senior year in high school and everything had been going well. He was on a fast track to a college in New York and he was going to light up Broadway. He was lead singer of the Warblers, the acapella glee club at Dalton Academy.
The morning after his eighteenth birthday he'd woken up feeling odd. Not bad, just... off, somehow. He wasn't sure what it was, but he tried to go about his day as normal.

Then it happened – "it" being an erection - right in the middle of class. One of his classmates had gotten up to get something and had bent over right in front of Blaine's chair and that had been all it had taken. Blaine had been instantly hard. Mortified, Blaine had crossed his legs and tried willing it away, but it had taken forever for that to happen.

It had spiraled from there – soon he was getting hard just from the fabric of his pants rubbing against his dick. He was consistently horny, constantly thinking about sex and his elusive orgasm.
Because that was the other thing – Blaine couldn't come. No matter what he did, what he tried or who he had sex with, he couldn't come.

He'd tried his own hands, toys, and even sex with a willing friend (and Sebastian had been pretty affronted by the fact that Blaine hadn't fallen apart under his talented hands, unless the hysterical crying fit counted).
After months of this (post-graduation and well into summer) he'd gone to a therapist, thinking he had some kind of mental block about it. She'd suggested having him tested to make sure there was nothing medically wrong with him before they continued treatment and referred him to Dr. Michaels.

"Has anyone ever suggested to you that you might have some latent werewolf genes?" Dr. Michaels asked.

"What?" Blaine let out a disbelieving sound.

"One of the reasons Dr. Taylor referred you to me was because she'd seen cases like yours before, and I have fairly extensive knowledge in this area, for both humans and werewolves."

Werewolves were common in Ohio, ever since they'd come public years ago and worked out a treaty with the government. Land in every state was set aside as "werewolf territory", and you didn't go there unless you had a death wish - or so Blaine had heard.

"Are you telling me that I'm a werewolf?" Blaine asked, hearing the hysterical pitch in his voice.

"No," Dr. Michaels smiled. "I'm telling you that you have latent werewolf genes – meaning that somewhere in your lineage there was someone who was at least part wolf. The bloodlines thin out as generations pass – werewolves can only have wolf babies with other wolves as I'm sure you're aware."

Blaine was aware – it was why there were warnings not to go into werewolf territory – they wouldn't hesitate to bite people and turn them to further their bloodlines. The government had to know they were doing it, but nothing had ever been proven. Those that were turned often ended up mated and insisted that they'd wanted to be turned (which was legal).

"So what exactly is wrong with me then?" Blaine asked, his voice shaking a little.

"You've reached maturity," the doctor began. "You turned eighteen and the werewolf genes in your DNA have kicked in."

"Okay," Blaine said slowly. "What exactly does that mean?"

"It means that your body is prepared for you to mate," Dr. Michaels replied.

"You mean, like werewolves do?" Blaine's voice trembled.

Dr. Michaels nodded. "Exactly like that. Your near constant state of arousal is your body's way of secreting off pheromones to attract a mate." He paused. "I'm sure you noticed that you've gotten more attention, of both the male and female variety."

Blaine nodded absently – he'd thought it was just him being hyper aware of everyone, due to his aroused state.

"I've tried having sex with people, doctor," Blaine murmured, a blush spreading over his cheeks. "It didn't work."

"Simply put, Blaine, that's because your body isn't going to accept a human mate."
Blaine's heart pounded in his ears and his mouth went dry. His eyes opened wide and he stared at Dr. Michaels.

"Are you," he croaked out, stopping and coughing. "Are you saying I have to mate with a werewolf?"

"Yes, I'm afraid that's exactly what I'm saying."

*

It had taken another week for Blaine to fully accept what Dr. Michaels had told him. A week full of unfulfilling masturbation attempts and anger at his situation before he'd cried himself out and resigned himself to his fate.
He was going to have to mate with a werewolf. He was going to be turned into a werewolf (because there was no other way – humans and wolves did not mate. The human was always changed. Blaine didn't know exactly why this was, something about the mating instinct and the urge to bite during sex.). His dreams of Broadway and college and New York were dead in the water. He would be stuck here in Ohio for the rest of his life.

His parents hadn't taken the news well. He'd had to set them up with Dr. Michaels for them to believe it and even then it had still been hard for them to accept. His father still hadn't come around to the news and Blaine didn't really blame him. Blaine's mother had explained that the werewolf genes had come from his father's side of the family and they had never considered that they would manifest in Blaine in such a way.

He spent another week in agony, waiting for the request to attend the next "werewolf meet" that Dr. Michaels had sent off to the werewolf council to be approved. He'd need the documentation to enter werewolf territory legally and to be allowed into the meeting site. Dr. Michaels had explained that werewolves held monthly meets, sometimes with wolves traveling from out of state to attend, to search for mates.

Blaine wasn't holding out much hope of finding a mate though – how likely was it that he'd stumble across a gay werewolf, especially at his first meet?

The council had granted the request and Blaine was leaving for his first meet that very day. He'd been given instructions on what to do and had been informed that if he didn't find a mate and the symptoms of his maturity became too much, they would find a wolf willing to turn him until he could be mated – wolves didn't have near the amount of issues with their maturity as Blaine was having with his, due to his humanity.
Because of that, Blaine knew he could never come back home. It wouldn't be safe, for him or his family. If he didn't find anyone to mate with and came home, he'd slowly go insane (there were documented cases on the internet, he'd found after intense research), and he might hurt himself or his family.

If he did find a mate, he would be turned into a wolf and he still wouldn't be allowed home. Wolves were required to stay on their territory. One paw outside the fenced off area without a special pass from the government was grounds for arrest or even death. The government might have been willing to negotiate territory with the wolves, but they were primarily concerned with the safety of the humans in the state.

It was with a heavy heart that Blaine packed his personal belongings into the back of his car – clothes, books, and pictures – and left his mother crying on the front porch of their house as he drove away and never looked back.

*

Getting into werewolf territory was nothing like Blaine expected. He'd shown the pass mailed to him from the werewolf council at the gate and was allowed to go through. His instructions told him to drive into what was formally Lima, Ohio, and he ended up at an address for a very nice house with a huge wooded area behind it.
He got out of the car slowly, his nerves taking over and distracting him from the semi-aroused state he'd been in on the drive up. It was like his body knew what was coming and was intent on torturing him with it.

"Blaine Anderson?" a gruff voice called. Blaine startled and then looked up at the house porch to see a taller, balding man in a flannel shirt looking at him.

"Yes, sir," he stammered out, his heart beating fast. He didn't know what to do now; he was pretty sure he was face to face with a werewolf and he had no idea what to expect.

"I'm Burt Hummel, Alpha of the Lima pack," Burt said, walking toward him.

"Pleased to meet you," Blaine murmured. He could sense Burt sizing him and he ducked his head in embarrassment. Burt could probably smell him. That was a mortifying thought.

"That's a bad mess you've been stuck with but you wouldn't be the first," Burt told him. "We'll get you settled in and I'm sure you can find some happiness here."

Blaine nodded woodenly, helping as Burt began getting his few bags and boxes out of the car. Burt directed him to a bedroom upstairs (for now, until he found a mate or wanted a more private home). He waited until he was alone and then sank down onto the mattress of the bed. Burt hadn't been at all like he'd expected – he'd expected, well... a monster, if he was honest with himself. If a man like Burt was in charge of the whole pack, surely they couldn't be that terrible.

A silver lining in this whole mess, he supposed.

He lay back on the bed, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths to try and relax. He had hours before nightfall, when Burt had told him the meeting would begin.

After a while he felt exhaustion overtake him and he drifted off to sleep.

*

"Blaine, sweetie, wake up," a soft woman's voice reached his ears, and Blaine drifted back to consciousness. He opened his eyes and stared at her for a moment, puzzled, before realizing the woman in front of him must be Carole, Burt's new mate. He'd said he'd send her up to help him get ready for the meet.

"Hi," he said shyly.

"Look at you, poor thing," Carole tutted. Blaine realized that he was flushed, his skin almost burning and oh God, he was hard.

Well, that was nothing short of humiliating.

"Don't be embarrassed," she continued, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I've seen it all before." Blaine didn't know what to say to that.

He sat up and the room spun. "Why is it worse now?" he asked, waiting for the dizziness to clear.

"Because you're so close to so many wolves," Carole said, her voice soothing. "Your body senses what it needs nearby – that's a good sign. Means you probably have a mate out there."

Hope shot through him – maybe that meant he would have a mate among the wolves and he could finally get some relief. She stroked his hair back and Blaine couldn't help the whine that escaped. "I suggest dressing in something light and easily removable; something you won't miss if it gets ruined." Carole continued, standing up.

Blaine would have blushed at the thought of what that meant, but he was already warm and sweating.
He staggered to his feet when Carole went out into the hall, changing from his sweat soaked clothes into a pair of loose shorts and nothing else. He felt naked but told himself that if all went well, it was going to come off (or be ripped off) anyway.

Carole ushered him downstairs and into the kitchen, where she handed him a sandwich and a drink. He could barely focus on eating it but Carole made sure he finished. When he was done, she smiled at him.

"Burt's going to take you down to the clearing. He'll watch out for you."

Blaine nodded, getting to his feet slowly and heading for the door to the back porch, where Carole had pointed to. He opened the door and saw Burt's kind face looking back. "Let's go, son."

Blaine let Burt lead him through the woods, trying to keep his shaking in check. His body almost felt out of his control. They reached the clearing and the sounds of talking ceased. A group of teenagers, in various forms of dress were milling about in the clearing, all of them now turned to stare at him.
He could see nostrils flaring in his direction, wondering what would happen now. He felt more than saw Burt moving backward, the sound of cracking bone reaching his ears. He didn't have turn around to know that Burt had shifted into wolf form. He didn't know how it was possible that Burt could shift when it wasn't a full moon – maybe it was because he was the Alpha? He had so much to learn about wolf rules.

Blaine didn't know what to do now – he searched the faces, wondering if he'd even know his mate when he saw him. He stared down at the ground, feeling sick and full of despair. He was never going to find someone – he'd be stuck like this forever or until he was a wolf and –

"You're human," a clear, high pitched voice said. Blaine jerked his head up at the sound, the gorgeous tones practically singing in his ears. He met the gaze of a beautiful boy with chestnut hair and the bluest eyes he'd ever seen on a person. He was wearing just a pair of shorts like Blaine, and his skin was as pale and smooth as porcelain. The boy's nostrils flared delicately as he sniffed again. "But not quite."

"Yes," Blaine breathed out softly. The boy moved closer and Blaine didn't know what to do – he couldn't move, couldn't look away. It was if the boy had him hypnotized. The boy sniffed again.

"You smell good," he said softly. "You smell... like mine." The tone of the last word was tinged with possession, a slight growl in the boy's voice. Desire shot down Blaine's spine in response and his legs almost gave out from under him. How he remained standing he had no idea.

"I do?" he asked softly.

The boy sniffed again, moving even closer with a cat-like grace Blaine would have found ironic if he'd been in his right mind. He could feel the boy's breath on his neck and he shivered, making a small sound in his throat. He caught a whiff of the boy's scent – vanilla and woods and home. Blaine felt a shock to his very core; this boy was his.

"There you are," the boy murmured.

"I feel like I've been looking for you forever," Blaine managed, his head spinning. The boy lifted his hand and drifted his fingers along Blaine's collar bone lightly. Blaine whimpered and almost sank to his knees, but there was a light growl behind him that made him jump instead.

The boy looked sheepish and Blaine felt momentary panic – he'd thought this was it, this was his mate, he could feel it in his bones, so why was Burt growling at them?

"He's reminding me that you probably don't want to be taken right here, in front of everyone," the boy said.

Blaine nearly groaned at the idea, of being forced to the ground and taken, and he could almost feel the sweet release just out of his grasp. He'd forgotten about everyone else, mesmerized by the boy in front of him.

"And you'd let me," the boy whispered, his eyes darkening and his voice deepening.

The growl came again and the boy jerked. He held out his hand toward Blaine.

"Come with me."

*

The boy led Blaine through the woods, holding his hand tightly, as if Blaine would disappear at any moment or something. Blaine wasn't planning on going anywhere this beautiful boy wasn't going, following meekly along. He had no idea where they were or where they were going but he didn't care because this boy... this wolf, would take care of him. He didn't know how he knew it, but he could feel it vibrating through every fiber of his being.

They came to a clearing, moonlight spilling down on the ground through the trees. There was a blanket down, a small satchel nearby.

"I set this up every month," the boy said softly, "in hopes that I would find you." He pulled Blaine to him and Blaine went, trying not to moan when he was pulled into the boy's embrace. "What's your name?"

"Blaine," he gasped out, finding his voice.

"Blaine," the boy breathed out, pressing his forehead to Blaine's and closing his eyes. His arms were tight around Blaine's waist and they were nestled so close together that he could feel Kurt's hard cock digging into his hip. His own erection hadn't subsided, if anything, he'd gotten harder since coming face to face with the boy. Blaine's entire body was humming with desire and he could barely think straight. "I'm Kurt," the boy said, pulling his head back and staring into Blaine's eyes.

Kurt's name echoed in Blaine's head, repeating over and over until it was all he knew. Kurt leaned in then, his eyes breaking away from Blaine's to focus on Blaine's mouth and Blaine longed so much to feel Kurt's lips on his own. Kurt hesitated for a second, his breath blowing across Blaine's lips, making Blaine whimper.
He couldn't stand it a moment longer, closing the small distance between them and pressing his lips to Kurt's. Their lips touching was like lightening everywhere on his skin. They both moaned and Kurt's mouth practically devoured his, Kurt's tongue invading and Blaine just let him, mind and body buzzing with desire and relief and finally.

Kurt broke the kiss, biting his bottom lip. Blaine cried out, his hips arching up against Kurt reflexively and he gasped when their hard cocks rubbed together through their shorts. Kurt's hands found Blaine's gelled locks and tangled among the strands, jerking Blaine's head backward roughly so that he could kiss, lick, suck and bite along Blaine's neck.

Blaine's hands traveled up Kurt's arms and held onto Kurt's shoulders. It was all he could do to keep standing upright. His fingernails dug into Kurt's shoulders, and that seemed to spur Kurt on even more, as he pushed Blaine backward into the nearest tree. Blaine barely had a moment to catch his breath before Kurt was pressed up against him, hips rocking. The friction on his cock was glorious and somehow not enough at the same time and he whined.

"I've got you," Kurt gasped against his mouth, stepping back and pulling Blaine down onto the blanket. Blaine was flat on his back before he could blink, Kurt pulling off Blaine's shorts and then his own in rapid time.
Blaine rolled onto his stomach instinctively, arching his back and sticking his ass in the air. Two of Kurt's lube slicked fingers pressed into him, compliments of the satchel of supplies Kurt had brought. They worked him open roughly, pushing hard and fast but Blaine didn't care. He would take anything that Kurt would give him, because he needed sweet ecstasy that was waiting for him at the end; he needed Kurt to mate with him and fill up this emptiness he hadn't even known he'd had until he'd seen Kurt.

"Please," Blaine begging, writhing under Kurt's fingers.

"I don't want to hurt you," Kurt panted, his voice strangled.

"You won't, please, I can take it, just, please," Blaine pleaded, tears spilling down his cheeks.

"Okay, okay." Kurt pulled his fingers out. There was a momentary pause and then Blaine felt the blunt pressure of Kurt's cock against his hole. He could have cried; the feeling of completion that washed over him as Kurt slowly bottomed out was mind blowing. Kurt was mumbling under his breath but Blaine couldn't focus on his words because Kurt had started to move and Blaine was lost.

He was a whirl in sensation, held in place by Kurt's firm grip on his hips. Senseless noises tumbled from his lips and he cried out when Kurt wrapped an arm around his chest and pulled him backward, so he was leaning back against Kurt. That changed the angle of Kurt's thrusts and suddenly Blaine could feel the beginnings of an orgasm. He chased the feeling, having been denied for so long, but it was elusive.

He cried out in frustration and then Kurt's voice was soft in his ear. "I'll be gentle."

Blaine barely had a moment to register his words when Kurt put his mouth on the juncture of Blaine's neck and shoulder and bit down hard.

Blaine screamed at the pain and then came so hard he blacked out.

*

Things changed dramatically for Blaine after that night. He'd woken up in Kurt's arms, Kurt nuzzling his neck and licking the bite mark lightly. Every little lick had sent tingles down his spine and desire shooting down to his cock.

"How do you feel?" Kurt's concerned voice had registered through his fog.

"Better," he'd rasped out, surprised to find it was true. He'd felt so much better than he ever had in his whole life. Like he could climb a mountain and run a marathon and eat an entire horse without slowing down.

The realization that he felt that way because he was a wolf now had taken a few moments to sink in. His meltdown when it did had been shocking to Kurt, but Kurt had just held him and he'd eventually calmed down.

Then they'd made the trek back to the house, Kurt explaining that he was Burt's son, and thus second in line to rule the pack. Blaine's heart sank – he really would be stuck here in Ohio then. He was mated to an Alpha.

"So you're stuck here?" Blaine had asked.

"Yeah," Kurt had breathed out softly. "For a kid who wanted to go to New York and do Broadway or fashion, it was a hard blow to come to terms with."

Blaine had let out a shaky laugh, tinged with a sob of sadness. How alike and he and Kurt were.
Learning to be one of the pack and to stop fighting his new instincts had been a rough transition for Blaine, but Kurt and Burt were patient with him. The others in the pack had slowly come around and Blaine had started making friends among the other wolves their age.

Maybe it wasn't the future he'd envisioned for himself, but it wasn't a terrible life.
He had Kurt, his mate, and that was all that mattered.