Archive of Our Own

The night is cool by human standards, but Kurt Hummel, shifter, lycanthrope, werewolf, is perfectly comfortable. Temperature-wise, that is. It’s not really his idea of comfort to be wearing nothing but skin and some strategically placed undergrowth.

Though his warm and protective fall coat is but a blink and a ripple away, he keeps the immodest skin.

It’s less painful like this. His dry human nose can’t smell the rich musk of the mating male hunting through the grounds. Prowling and slobbering and sniffing its way from bitch to bitch, whining and growling anxiously. This nose can't smell the wolf's inevitable disinterest when he gets to Kurt, and this heart certainly won't shatter when Kurt loses another chance to mate. To start his family. To watch a rolly little cub of his own bat at leaves and nip at his father's legs.

No, this human heart can dream of bigger things. Convince his wolf heart that getting out of Lima, going to school, making a life for himself outside of the Ohio pack, is the better choice. His happiness doesn't need to be determined by his attractiveness to young horny wolves. Kurt Hummel has his own fabulous destiny to create.

So while the other eligible omegas are scattered around the grounds, tails up, presenting for the idiot 16-year-old birthday boy of the night, Kurt is laying on his stomach on a prime piece of mossy hollow. Examining his nails in the starlight and waiting for the triumphant howl that will immediately follow the claiming.

It was little more than a year ago that he probably would have been picked the first night of his eligibility. For the past two generations, the Alpha had decreed one cub per family, in order to temper a pack grown too big for their little mideastern state. Rare male omegas, with their significantly lower fertility rate, became prized. Literally more banging for your mate buck before a successful pregnancy.

Then, at the Great Gathering, the Alpha not only dropped the decree, but also lowered the mating age from 21 to 16. If shifters gave birth in hospitals, there would have been a state-wide bed-shortage emergency. Even in little Lima, they’d had to lure in two shifter midwives just to handle the epidemic of pregnancies. Kurt and Finn had seen embarrassingly little of Burt and Carol for the month following the gathering.

And then Kurt had turned 16 and was unceremoniously shipped to the Omega House to finish school and take cub-caring lessons and await graduation so he can take his father’s claim and bee-line to New York and become more than just a four-legged milk-dispenser. New York, where there are no packs, but there is a really big park. Kurt will be fine. He’ll be more than fine. He’ll be amazing. Even if he will be alone.

Not, he thinks, that he has much of a choice in the matter. Just like last week, and the week before, and the three nights the week before that, this wolf will pass Kurt by, nose leading him to more deliciously fertile options. Pretty little wolves with pretty coats and pretty tails up high wafting pretty bouquets of pretty pheromones. Kurt has been told more than once that he smells ‘woody’. What he gets for a carefully organic diet, he supposes.

His pink human nose is still powerful enough to smell all those sweet, pretty omegas scattered through the woods. He and Blaine, the only other male omega in western Ohio, (already happily mated and round with a cub, which Kurt has very mixed feelings about) both agree that the scent is almost too calming to them. If he were in wolf form, he’d probably be drifting right now, only to be heart-wrenchingly awakened when the trail of the mating male reached him.

He’s idly drifting a bit as it is, the springy, fresh-smelling moss under his chin making a tempting pillow, when he hears the lope of a distressed male behind him.

He sighs, giving into the urge, and lays his head on his folded hands. He doesn’t bother turning around. The pants will fade away with a scrabble of paws as the male takes off for the next offering. This one smells extraordinarily desperate, like the shock of pepper up his nose.

So it’s quite surprising when the ground practically shudders beneath him as an enormous wolf leaps to straddle Kurt’s legs and stick a cold, wet nose between his asscheeks.

***

“Oh!” Kurt squeaks, scrambling to get up, to face the threat and shift and bare his teeth and bark it away but apparently instinct has other ideas because all he's doing is getting his ass up for better access.

The big wolf takes it, sniffing and huffing up the crack of Kurt's ass with enthusiasm, long wet tongue out to lick and slurp around his balls.

Kurt knows what’s coming, both from what he’s been taught at the Omega House and from instinct. He stretches his ass up, can actually smell himself, his glands swelling like they’ve been pinched. His legs spread thanks to thousands of years spawning thousands of nights resulting in this one, and he can hear himself whimpering for heaven’s sake, but seriously, he’s never felt a compulsion so strong, stronger even than the pull of a full moon and he’s never been able to resist that.

The warm tongue is everywhere, laving and tasting and the wolf is making answering whimpering noises like he’s just as possessed. A huge paw, larger than Kurt’s palm, lands on his back and Kurt bows under it, chest falling to the forest floor. He’s about to shift, bare his belly and show his throat, when the wolf shifts first.

“Oh my god, you’re gorgeous,” the wolf moans, and puts his face right back in Kurt’s ass.

Hands on his spread thighs slip up to thumb his asscheeks apart and there is a boy’s hot mouth there now, smaller and neater but just as frantic, licking at his hole which is embarrassingly slick considering the wolf has been on him for maybe thirty seconds that feel like an eternity.

Kurt grinds his hot cheek into the moss, keening when the boy puts a warm finger right in his ass, rubbing against his glands, feeling him out and making his hips jump. The boy answers with an excited growl and a nip to his asscheek.

“Oh god, yes, christ you’re delicious,” the boy whines, muffled because he’s gnawing and chewing shallowly at Kurt’s ass, two fingers screwing into his hole, and Kurt is going to die he’s so hard and it feels so good. Fuck New York, fuck his lone wolf plan, hell, fuck cubs and a family, he just wants this boy to put some more fingers in him.

And then it’s too late, because those exploratory, selfish fingers are long and seeking and Kurt is coming with a trill of shrieks and his ass bobbing so high he might as well be doing a handstand.

The boy, bless him, leaves his fingers in Kurt’s throbbing hole as he comes the equivalent to every furtive touch he’s ever given himself. He feels blind and dumb with it, just a brightly burning torch of feeling lighting up the woods around them.

It’s the feeling of being gently dropped to the ground that finally shakes Kurt from his post-orgasmic daze. He hadn’t even realized that the boy had wrapped an arm under his hips, lifting him right off his knees.

The boy slips his fingers from Kurt’s hole and drops Kurt’s cheek from his mouth, letting Kurt flop to his side in the moss.

“Wow,” the boy breathes, sounding shocked. The breeze through the trees sounds condemningly loud now that Kurt’s ears aren’t filled with his own ridiculously wanton screams. How the trees weren’t mowed down in the nuclear blast of his orgasm, Kurt doesn’t know.

The boy flops next to him, and Kurt feels his own wow get caught in his mouth. There must be some mistake, because there is no way a boy so lean and handsome and...twinkly...could be so talented too. It just isn’t fair. The boy’s twinkly smile grows into a full-fledged sparkling toothpaste ad grin at Kurt’s stare.

“Sorry, give me a minute, I know I’m supposed to awe you with my virile display of dominance, but christ, this is overwhelming, you know?”

Kurt laughs before he can stop himself. Keep it cool, Hummel. He hauls himself up onto one elbow, putting himself at level with the boy’s eyes which are hazel and lovely and it’s really just not fair at all.

“Consider me thoroughly awed.”

The boy looks ridiculously pleased. He leans in closer and Kurt braces himself. This is it, right? He’s supposed to bare his throat and submit like a good little bitch, and the mating male will bite the back of his neck in a claim and wham, bam, it’s off to the proverbial chapel.

But no, the boy’s wide mouth isn’t going for his neck, it’s going for Kurt’s lips and no one said anything about kissing, he’s never heard of such a civilized claim, maybe the boy is just messing with him, a little fun before he claims a true bitch-

The boy stops with his face hardly an inch from Kurt’s own and neither of them breathe. This close the boy’s beauty marks are like a constellation mapping out his face in the sky. Then the boy sits back with a smirk and touches a finger to Kurt’s lower lip.

“Actually, I’ll buy the gentleman dinner before - this,” he murmurs, tapping Kurt’s lip saucily.

“Prude,” Kurt breathes, returning the smirk. This boy is stunningly good-looking, smells like he could bark the entire Ohio pack into marching band formation, can apparently play Kurt like a piano prodigy, and now he’s flirting? If he’s just messing around, Kurt is breaking pack law and running away for good, because there could not possibly be a more desirable wolf in the world let alone in Allen County.

The boy laughs, and Kurt finds he quite likes the sound of it. He draws a finger over the top of Kurt’s hip. Kurt rolls into the touch, his thighs slipping against each other with his own secretions.

“Hey! I’m a romantic, okay?” The boy says, mock defensively. He replaces the finger with his whole lovely hand, cupping and gripping Kurt’s thigh like he just discovered legs. “God, you’re perfect, just, look at you, I want to eat you.”

Kurt blushes. He could say the very same. How is this even happening to him, to Kurt, forever damned to gay human spinsterhood. “I...thank you? You’re, I don’t know, doing a great job of making me want to roll onto my back permanently?”

The boy laughs again, louder this time, head thrown back and long throat exposed. Kurt uses the opportunity to shamelessly check the rest of him out. Broad chest, delightfully strong arms, abs that could punch a man from five feet away, and - oh. Oh, my. That is - yes. Ridiculous, almost. Alpha-sized proportions even.

The boy catches him looking, of course, Kurt must have been staring for ten minutes at least, and raises an eyebrow.

“So, can I get a name to go with that pretty face?”

“Kurt. My name is Kurt.”

“Kurt,” the boy repeats, putting emphasis on the ‘t’, punching it out of his perfect teeth.

“Your name is Kurt too?” Kurt teases.

“Uh - no,” the boy says, confused. He squints a little, like he’s humoring Kurt, like maybe Kurt should already know his name. “Sebastian.”

***

Sebastian. Classy. It sounds sort of familiar, and maybe he’s heard it at a gathering or something. Ohio makes for a large pack and a small world at the same time. Sebastian definitely never went to McKinley; shifters tend to find their own among humans. And Kurt is sure he would have remembered meeting Sebastian’s scent at a gathering, even if gatherings are riotous scent shit-shows. It’s mischievous and sharp, like wild spearmint. Heady and bright, invading all of Kurt’s senses, really.

Sebastian...yes, he’s heard it, but it’s not like they post a roster of boys who are going to be mate-hunting every night. And even if they did, Kurt probably wouldn’t have looked. Since the decree was lifted he’s been more interested in Kardashian gossip than pack gossip.

So, “Enchantee,” he tells Sebastian, giving him a hand. Sebastian takes it, smiling, and kisses his knuckles. No, mouths them, and continues up his wrist and his forearm and lingers on his bicep before gently biting the round of his shoulder, covering Kurt and pushing him back to the ground.

Kurt goes, tipping in slow motion, the hand not gripped in Sebastian’s going to Sebastian’s hair, fisting it thick when Sebastian’s mouth moves across his collarbone and settles on his throat. His legs spread again to accommodate Sebastian’s hips, and that long, thick cock settles neatly into the crease of his thigh to his body.

He’s no stranger to the jostle of a penis against his leg; he’s spent the majority of his life around naked wolves and it happens. (Human modesty is a perplexing but compelling concept for a shifter who loves fashion as much as Kurt does.) But never like this. Never laid down with so much intent, so carefully controlled. And he’s certainly never been licked so worshipfully.

Sebastian is warm and heavy and molded perfectly to him, and his mouth on the tender skin under Kurt’s jaw is making Kurt squeak like a puppy. Their fingers lace naturally as Sebastian hovers over him again, their noses nearly touching.

“I really like you, Kurt,” he grins, and though the words are teasing, Kurt can hear a thickness in his voice, a sincerity. He gently wraps his legs around this darling, cocky wolf who chose Kurt out of all the ripe young omegas served up for him tonight. Sebastian swallows and blinks carefully and oh yes, Kurt really likes him too, likes every single part of him.

“I really like you too, Sebastian,” he answers back, but keeps his own sincerity unquestionably clear. He’s rewarded with the amusement in Sebastian’s eyes melting into something else, something much more authentic. Hope, maybe.

“Will you...,” Sebastian takes a deep breath. “...Will you give me your neck?”

Kurt’s heart thu-thumps into quadruple time. A wolf Sebastian’s size doesn’t ask for much. Let alone for something that is his to take.

“Yes. Yes, yes, yes,” Kurt whispers and Sebastian’s hand squeezes his tightly.

Sebastian laughs like he can’t keep the joy in and kisses the end of Kurt’s nose. Then his stupidly-smiling cheek, then the other one, then his nose again and his hair-line and -

“Are you going to let me turn over for you, or are you calling this a claim?” Kurt laughs, squirming when Sebastian’s smacking kisses tickle his jaw.

“Jesus, you’re so spicy, I love it,” Sebastian grumbles affectionately, and Kurt knows it’s not his flavor Sebastian’s talking about.

Kurt drops his legs and Sebastian helps him roll over, hardly letting him up, big hands all over Kurt’s sides and chest and stomach, stroking and petting and it’s calming and the most exciting thing Kurt’s ever experienced at the same time.

He kisses the back of Kurt’s neck, noses there sweetly while his hard cock rubs deep and slick between Kurt’s asscheeks. It makes Kurt positively shudder with want, there is no way he can wait until the next full moon to feel that monster of a cock pushed into him, splitting him, filling him with seed, swelling his belly -

“I don’t think I’m going to be able to wait,” Sebastian moans, mirroring his thoughts and hitching against Kurt with little rocks. “How does anyone wait?” he snarls, and then stills himself.

He kisses the back of Kurt’s impatient neck one more time, takes a hardy sniff of Kurt’s hair, and then bursts into his wolf. Kurt does the same.

Sebastian’s teeth are careful but his jaw is strong as he bites down hard, pushes Kurt to the forest floor. Kurt feels small but protected underneath of him. He goes. Whines his submission softly. Lifts his tail high. Sebastian huffs and it warms the fur on Kurt’s neck. Kurt understands. Understands that submitting isn't just giving in. It’s accepting too. And yes, he accepts this handsome, sweet wolf. He’ll take care of Kurt. Kurt will take care of him. Sebastian will give Kurt handsome, sweet, strong cubs. Kurt will make him proud.

Sebastian lets go with one last huff and howls deafeningly to the sky.

***

Kurt senses the stampede long before the berobed girls crash into his room uninvited. Wait, not his room anymore. They’ll give the single to some other baby male omega to grow embittered in. Because Kurt’s mate (potential mate, keep a lid on it, Hummel) is waiting downstairs, ready to whisk him away to...well, he’s not sure, but it won’t matter, because Sebastian will be there too.

Tall, gorgeous, funny, silky Sebastian, who had trotted him back to the house and kissed his forehead before shooing him inside. Telling him to grab just what he might need for the night, and hurry, please, and maybe not because Sebastian is in a rush to leave, but because Sebastian can’t go into the Omega House and right, they’re still holding hands and Kurt had to gently unclamp Sebastian’s fingers and throw himself through the gate.

“Kurt! Kurt! Oh my god! Oh. My. God! Ohmygod!”

Rachel grabs his shoulders with her little pincer hands and shakes him away from his open suitcase. All he can do is clutch her shoulders and shake back.

“I know! I know! It’s happening! I can’t believe it! Rach, he’s perfect.” Kurt should get this. He deserves this one moment of being the center of attention, of not carefully avoiding mate-talk. Respecting the giant brittle elephant that follows Rachel around, that she had to come back after not one, but two failed claims.

“Ohmygod, ohmygod- wait, what? Why are you smiling? You’re glad?” Rachel’s face goes from round and surprised to flat and frowning.

“Uh, yes, of course I am. I got claimed and he’s surface-of-the-sun hot.” Kurt looks over her to Santana and Britney, their heads cocked like confused puppies.

“We came to stop the bleeding, not to congratulate you, Tink,” Santana drawls.

“You smell like Axe body spray that’s been left out in the sun,” Britney adds.

Kurt narrows his eyes and drops his hands to his hips, squaring off to all three of them. “What the hell are you guys talking about? Why are you all being Mariahs?”

“Kurt, did he tell you to act like this? You know you don’t have to listen to him until you’re mated, and it’s certainly your prerogative if you don’t want to mate with him, you can always come back to the House and stay with me-”

“Zip it, you sad-sack little pomeranian,” Santana cuts off Rachel’s cajoling by unlinking her pinkie with Britney and stepping in front of the other girl. “Okay, here’s the scoop: when that four-legged Coors Light commercial realized that I wasn’t raising my tail for anyone, let alone his skinny ass, he nipped me and laughed at Brit. The only reason I didn’t claw him inside out through his asshole is because he might have taken it as a challenge.”

“What, no, Sebastian did that? There must have been another male.” Sebastian, biting an omega? Well, to be fair, if there was ever an exception to that rule it would apply to Santana.

“Nope. According to Coach Sylvester there were other males, but the Alpha made them clear the schedule for that mangy douchebag,” Santana says, rolling her eyes.

“Why would he do that?”

Santana squints at him like he just asked her what color the sky is. “Uh, because he’s the Alpha’s son? And it would probably make the family look even worse if the douche lost a claiming challenge to another male?”

Kurt sits on the bed like he’s been pushed, crushing the clothes waiting to be carefully packed.

“Sebastian is a, a Smythe?” he whispers, and his voice sounds like dust.

“Oh Kurt! Of course he is! He’s the lost son! Everyone’s been talking about it!” Rachel cries unhelpfully, kneeling beside him on the bed and putting her head on his shoulder in a move she probably thinks is comforting.

Sebastian Smythe. Of course. That’s where he’d heard the name. Only everywhere. Rumor was rich with speculation about the cub who had been sent to the Old Pack when the Alpha, the only wolf untouched by his own orders, had bred a second son. Back now that the decree was lifted, and apparently looking to mate in Ohio. Kurt. Looking to mate Kurt.

“Did you eat some tinsel?” Britney asks.

“That was tonight?” he gulps.

“You bet it was, puppy-face. Now...are you okay?” Santana asks like it hurts her to. “I mean, he wasn’t too rough, right? Can’t have any Alpha brats up in here, ruining the reputation of the hottest Omega House in the state.”

“No! He...wasn’t rough at all.” He shakes off Rachel and shoos her off of his pants. Sebastian will be waiting and suddenly Kurt isn’t as eager to share the details of his claim. Of how gentle and captivating it had been. How easy it was.

“So you’re actually into this ass-dragger?” Santana asks, mouth open skeptically. Kurt turns away from her. Hopes she’s exaggerating.

Rachel watches him drop his robe, eyes the smears of dirt on his arms and legs. All the way up his legs. “Oh Kurt. What will your Dad say?”

Burt Hummel is the only shifter who has ever publicly spoken out against the Smythe Alphas. So Kurt isn’t sure what his Dad will say about one of them claiming his son, but he knows there will be plenty of it.

“I don’t know. I...can’t think about that right now. He’s waiting, I have to go.” He pulls on the Vivienne Westwood pants that double the length of his legs, gingham shirt, his peacoat so he has more room in his bag. He’ll probably regret half his choices by morning, but he’s making the son of the Alpha wait, and he’s certainly not making the son of the Alpha come back with him for more clothes.

He grabs his computer, zips up his bag, and wheels it through the wall of girls, various shades of worry drawn on their faces.

He stops at the door. “Oh, come here. I’m going to miss you bitches.”

Britney has to pull Santana in with her, but they all pile around him for one last hug. With Santana and Britney waiting to turn 18, Kurt was the last of their mini-pack to be claimed.

“Be careful, Kurt. Don’t let him jerk you around by the tail,” Rachel sniffs into his chest. She would know.

“I’ll...I’ll see you guys soon.” He gives them all one last squeeze and heads for the grand staircase. Goodbye just isn’t the right word when an omega leaves.

The rest of the House watches him descend; sleepy, half-naked girls hanging over the banisters and wolf-whistling at him. With any other claim he might have been tempted to give a flourished bow and a parting speech at the big doors, but Sebastian is waiting on the other side of them and Kurt’s not going to waste another second more.

At first he’s confused, because there are three big black cars waiting in front of the House, idling with their headlights cutting into the black night. Then Sebastian, (Sebastian Smythe his brain fleetingly reminds him) is standing up from a lean on the middle car, then he’s hurrying to Kurt, and then Kurt is dropping the handle of his bag and tripping down the big granite steps to meet him.

Sebastian garbles a growl into his neck, twirling Kurt off his feet. Kurt hangs on and breathes him in. Sebastian is like walking into a turkey-dinner toasty house - Kurt hadn’t even realised he was cold until he had Sebastian warming him through-and-through.

“There you are,” Sebastian sighs, gently putting Kurt down but still keeping him close. Sebastian kisses his temple, mouth open and hot against Kurt’s hair.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you waiting-”

“No! It’s okay! It’s, it’s fine.” Sebastian puts a thumb over Kurt’s mouth, strokes the line of Kurt’s jaw. His forehead wrinkles adorably. “I’ve just never felt like this before. Like, not having you in touching distance is physically painful. That’s weird, right?”

Kurt can’t help but laugh. Just one of Sebastian’s eyebrows has more expression in it than your average mime.

“I think that’s just the blessing of being half-animal and hormone-riddled.” He touches Sebastian’s t-shirt covered chest through his open jacket. It’s a nice chest. And it’s a very nice jacket. Things are looking positive for his list of deal-breakers, which include but are not limited to, Has good taste.

“If it helps, I’m suffering too.”

“Really?” Sebastian grins.

“Definitely,” Kurt purrs.

Sebastian shrugs dramatically. “Guess we’ll have to stick together and tough it out until the full moon then, won’t we?”

“Indeed.” Kurt shrugs back with his own grin. At this rate, that’s exactly what’s going to happen. As far as Kurt is concerned, Sebastian will just have to put up with Kurt pressed against his bathroom door.

“In that case...” And two big hands are gliding under his ass, giving it a considering squeeze.

Kurt cocks his head. “I think this is where I slap you and demand a chaperon.”

Sebastian’s eyebrows point to Kurt’s arms over his shoulders and Kurt’s hands in his hair. “Oh yes, considering how genteel and well-mannered you are, we’d better do everything we can to protect your respectability.”

Kurt buries his laugh in Sebastian’s neck, and noses the scent around his collar while he’s at it. There are a hundred girls watching from the windows, and who knows how many Alpha staff watching from the cars, and he doesn’t care. He could spend all night here, getting his ass groped in Sebastian’s arms. He’s going to have to bring up their little Romeo & Juliet situation at some point, but for now he’s going to relish the way Sebastian’s chest rumbles with pleasure when Kurt kisses the curve of his neck.

***

It’s still early hours when they finally pull up the long, tree-arched drive to the Alpha House. Kurt’s fugue of instinct and lust is starting to abate, to be replaced by a thick storm-cloud of anxiety and dread. Just a real shit heap he’s gotten himself into.

Despite his calm, relaxed expression, Sebastian smells sharp with his own worry, and he tightens his arm around Kurt like he’d pull Kurt right into his lap like a stuffed toy if not for that pesky seatbelt.

Getting them inside is a helpful distraction. They’re cleared through two sets of big, manned gates, and then driven around the compound, past the big imposing front entrance, over two stone bridges, and then through a third side gate.

As they approach the main building itself, a man comes jogging down a set of steps to meet their car. Above him, a woman in a frilly, old-fashioned looking robe stands in the starlight, arms crossed.

“Welcome back, Monsieur Smythe,” the man says, another shifter, opening the door for them. “And...oh.”

“Benoit,” Sebastian nods, climbing out. He hands out Kurt too, which is completely unnecessary, but too sweet to refuse. Besides, this all feels a little less overwhelming when he’s holding onto Sebastian. “Kurt, this is Benoit, my assistant. Benoit, my future mate, Kurt.”

My future mate. And doesn’t that just have a nice ring to it. Kurt almost titters out loud. It’s very close.

“Um, hi. Nice to meet you,” he says, trying to replace his giddy grin with something a little less creepy and a little more appropriate for meeting Sebastian’s assistant. What kind of 16-year-old needs an assistant? Oh, yeah. The son of the Alpha. Really just a towering, unmanageable heap of shit he’s gotten himself into.

He untangles his right hand from Sebastian, replacing it with his left so he can offer it to Benoit politely.

Three things happen simultaneously: Benoit jumps back, his own hands in the air, Kurt gets twirled behind Sebastian, and Sebastian snarls at Benoit like Benoit just tried to tug a rabbit from his mouth.

“Whoa, whoa, okay, hey, sorry, Sebastian. Sebastian,” Kurt struggles against his arm, can feel the subterranean growl running through Sebastian’s chest. “I’m sorry, I forgot, that was stupid, I know.”

Right. He needs to get through the next week, until the full moon, without another male touching him. No problem.

Poor Benoit is still backing away, hands up, eyes on the ground. “Your room is all ready to go, and Kurt’s bags are on the way. Your father wants to see you first thing in the morning,” he says quickly. His heel hits the bottom step and he turns and jogs back up into the building. The woman in the fancy robe is gone.

“Sorry!” Kurt calls after him, but the big carved door is already closing. Sebastian’s arm finally relaxes.

“Well,” Kurt says. An owl hoots from the trees behind them.

“I...am not going to survive this week. How do you feel about being locked in a room until we mate?” Sebastian sighs, finding Kurt’s right hand again.

Until we mate. Sebastian says it like it’s such a sure thing. Like the next week won’t yield any issues at all. Kurt, for all of his natural practicality, can’t help feeling the same way.

“With you? It might not be so bad,” Kurt admits. Sebastian’s eyes crinkle and he kisses the back of Kurt’s hand. Not bad at all. “But I’ll take this opportunity to remind you that I’ve been locked in an Omega house for a year and now that I have a little freedom, we might as well live at the mall until we...mate.” He doesn’t want to sound presumptuous, but god, it would take a fairly significant strike against Sebastian for Kurt to change his mind now.

“I will take you to the mall. I’ll take you wherever you want to go. Just...” Sebastian raises their hands, noses at Kurt’s wrist. “I need to keep you within sniffing range.”

Kurt laughs and bumps his forehead against Sebastian’s chest. He smells ridiculously good and strong and perfect and no. The anxiety is retreating the longer he has his nose in Sebastian’s collar and they need to talk.

“We need to talk,” he mumbles.

Sebastian stills, then kisses his wrist with a sigh. He doesn’t act surprised.

“Yeah, probably. Come on. Lets go clean up.”

***

A shower, a hair disaster neatly averted, and five minutes of nervous freaking out later, Kurt is tucked up in Sebastian’s tasteful sleigh bed, rubbing what has to be an 800-thread-count between his fingers.

It’s hard to imagine that just a few hours ago, he was actually planning to leave the state, to fully commit to a human life. Now here he is, in the Alpha house of all places, a fire softly crackling and low-lighting Sebastian’s spacious bedroom. Not to mention lying beside this gorgeous wolf who had braided their legs together like it was the most natural thing in the world, who is now slowly and thoroughly kissing every inch of skin between Kurt’s neck and shoulder. Kurt lowers his nose into Sebastian’s hair.

“You know who I am, right?”

Sebastian groans and puts his face next to Kurt’s on the pillow.

“Yes. I was...debriefed...at the Omega house. It figures that you’re Burt Hummel’s kid. My dad did encourage me to pick a feisty one.” He taps the end of Kurt’s nose and Kurt doesn’t bite his finger off.

“Mmmm. But probably not a politically vocal one.”

“No, probably not.”

“And he probably meant a female omega.”

Sebastian scowls and scoots closer to him. “He knows my tastes.”

“Oh?”

“And yeah, you should probably brace yourself. Just, maybe let me do the talking in the morning. At first. I think I experienced some judgement issues tonight.”

Kurt barely gets an eyebrow raised before Sebastian is backpedaling.

“Hey, no, wait, that came out really wrong. I mean, yes, I was supposed to find a female. But I...strangely don’t care?” Sebastian squints into the shifting shadows above the fireplace. “With you...I have...never been so sure of anything in my life. In France, well, it’s a lot more complicated there. I got really used to playing as many sides as I could. With you, the decision is simple. I’m going to mate you, Kurt Hummel. I’m going to mate the fuck out of you.”

Kurt yelps as Sebastian manhandles him half on top of himself, cupping his ass in Sebastian’s long hands. Sebastian’s lips are so close and Kurt would very much like to put his own mouth on them. Make his own claim on Sebastian. Sebastian’s chest warm under his, Sebastian’s breath warm on his cheek, Sebastian’s hands hot on his ass...

“I think you should,” he says, all in a rush.

“Ha, right now?”

“Yes, now. Let’s not wait.” He touches the sharp line of Sebastian’s jaw, unbearably handsome. “I want you to put a cub in me, right now. If we mate now, the Alpha can’t do anything about it. All potential problems solved.”

“Jesus Christ,” Sebastian whines, baring his teeth and digging his fingers into Kurt’s ass like talons. Kurt can feel it where he’s straddling Sebastian’s leg, can feel Sebastian getting hard with just the suggestion.

“Ugh, you delicious little bitch. I...no. I can’t. Jesus, I can’t,” he continues.

Kurt squirms under his grip. “I don’t see why not. Big, bossy wolf like you. Can do whatever you want,” he appeals with a low blow. Sebastian just keeps getting harder. It feels like he’s laying on a lamppost.

Sebastian flips him with a growl, the sheets slipping down Sebastian’s back when he rises up above Kurt, clamps his wrists to the pillow. Kurt recognizes the show of domination, and responds by slowing dancing his eyes down to Sebastian’s bobbing cock and licking his lips. Sebastian’s going to learn a new definition of ‘feisty’.

“You’re so cruel,” Sebastian huffs. “I can’t. It’s not you, you know that right? I just, I’ve already screwed us royally. And if I’m going to be considered for Alpha when my Father dies, I need a clean record. No mating before the first full moon. It would look flakey and unreliable.”

Kurt blinks. “You’re going to run for Alpha?”

“Of course I am,” Sebastian frowns. “That’s why I came back. I have a much better chance of reigning here than in the Old Pack, where I wouldn’t even be allowed into the challenges.”

Kurt stares at Sebastian’s earnest face. Alpha. That would make him the Alpha’s mate. Which...is not something he had ever even remotely considered for himself. Sebastian says of course he’s going to run, like why wouldn’t he, with his effortless self-confidence and his charming smile. Of course.

“It’s a long ways off, obviously,” Sebastian continues, eyes darting all over Kurt’s stunned face. “But I don’t want to have any issues come back to haunt. I mean, you would not believe the effort I’ve already invested in a clean record.”

“Right,” Kurt says. Love and politics. Something always has to give.

Sebastian noses his cheek anxiously. “You understand, right? How bad I want you? How bad I want to put a cub in you?” He shuffles down to one side and pulls Kurt in against his chest. Kurt goes, because yes, this is better than talking. Better than hearing Sebastian make his campaign plans.

Sebastian rubs a hand low and gentle over Kurt’s abdomen. Snuffles into his neck and says anxiously, “Please, Kurt, I want to do this right. For you. For us.”

He presses back against Sebastian, covers Sebastian’s hand with his own. He’s suddenly very, very tired.

“I know. Okay,” he whispers.

***

Kurt wakes up to Sebastian humping the crap out of his thigh.

Not usually one to remember his dreams, Kurt had been vividly dreaming that he was riding on the back of a running wolf, being jostled and bounced through a starlit forest, leaping logs and creeks and rocks, an exhilarating wind through his human hair. Then he was blinking awake to Sebastian half on top of him, both strong legs clutching Kurt’s left one, Sebastian’s face deep in his neck, breathing hard and whimpering.

Sebastian’s dick feels colossal, the rubbery head of it hard and slick, rubbing with the uneven rhythm of Sebastian’s slim hips. His arm is tight over Kurt’s chest, and he’s holding onto Kurt’s shoulder, pulling Kurt closer to himself, more than he’s actually holding Kurt down.

“Sebastian?” Kurt whispers, brushing along his arm. Sebastian doesn’t quit, and Kurt realises that he’s humping in his sleep, like a cub chasing dream-butterflies on a rug in front of a fire.

Kurt snorts and pets Sebastian’s side, tucks his chin down to kiss the top of Sebastian’s head. He eases his free leg over the top of Sebastian’s hip, curls into him and slips a hand down to his ass to hold him closer still. Though only a year older, Kurt can’t help but feel sympathetic and protective. Sebastian is a kid with ambitions, but he’s still a kid, and one in the midst of a hormonal haunted house horror ride.

“Shhh, shhh, that’s it puppy, just, hump away, I guess,” Kurt whispers into his hair.

Sebastian whimpers a growl into his neck and shudders, his frantic humping ramping up a couple of levels.

“Mmmm, you like that? Come on, that’s it,” Kurt encourages him, enjoying the shape of Sebastian’s pert little ass cheek under his palm. It’s smooth and tight and curves sharp into his thigh, where a dusting of light hair starts. Kurt kind of adores it already.

The flicker of eyelashes under his jaw, and Sebastian’s mouth closing on the skin of his neck give him away first, then the death grip on Kurt’s shoulder easing. But even as Sebastian wakes, his hips keep moving, his cock punishingly hard, painting Kurt’s leg with little hot patches of wetness.

“You’re such a puppy,” Kurt informs Sebastian’s awake self with a laughing whisper, squeezing the cheek in his grip and doing his best to arch into Sebastian’s clutch. Sebastian doesn’t rise to the tease, just grunts a hot, ugh, ugh, ugh into the skin below Kurt’s neck and comes spurting up Kurt’s side.

Kurt doesn’t let go as Sebastian’s humps slow into sleepy rolls, and laughs again as he accepts Sebastian’s grateful nosings to the side of his face.

“Well good morning to you too,” Kurt tells him, turning his head to nose back.

“Ngh,” Sebastian grunts, kissing his chin.

“If I had to guess, I’d say you’re not a morning person.”

Sebastian blinks at him, nose to nose on the pillow and then croaks, “This one isn’t too bad.”

Kurt laughs and starts pawing Sebastian off; he’s a dripping mess that is not going to improve with time. Sebastian rolls onto his back obediently and reaches up into a full body stretch that reeks of self-satisfaction. Kurt only has a moment to admire the long line of him before Sebastian snaps into his wolf shape. The bed creaks and Kurt has to catch himself from rolling into Sebastian’s new weight.

“Puppy,” Kurt confirms, shaking his head at the way Sebastian’s big brown paws flop in the air, his belly exposed and begging to be rubbed. Kurt doesn’t hesitate, running his fingers through the soft cream hair on his chest, down over the point of his ribs, scratching the tender spot just above Sebastian’s sheath, his cock still half out, pink and glistening.

“Raroooo,” Sebastian softly howls, his back legs kicking with joy. He twists to nose and lick at Kurt’s jaw again, and paws gently at the middle of his chest, press-press, the most common request for another shifter to change.

“You’re kidding me, right?” Kurt Vanna White gestures down his hip and stomach, still liberally streaked and smudged with Sebastian’s spunk. His fur is a temple. Also, prone to matting.

Sebastian sneeze-growls, and Kurt hears the exasperated laugh in it, already so identifiably Sebastian. The bed creaks again and the big wolf is towering over Kurt, his paws making deep valleys in the feather mattress.

“Oh!” Kurt breathes as Sebastian starts licking his skin, tongue big and rough and intent. Sebastian cleans him methodically, far more gently than one might expect from a three-hundred pound wolf. Also with more intentness. If Kurt didn’t know any better, he’d say Sebastian was quality-controlling him for dinner.

Kurt takes advantage of Sebastian’s enthusiasm, humming his approval and rolling a little so Sebastian can get his entire torso. It feels good, not just the licking, but being so taken care of. So fixed upon.

Sebastian finishes up with his side and shuffs down his leg, nosing it open to get at the drops around the base of his cock. Kurt squeaks and cards his fingers deep into Sebastian’s neck fur. It feels divine, the wide swaths of Sebastian’s tongue concentrating into sweet, quick little laps. Hot breath on his cock and his legs rise of their own accord just as Sebastian settles onto his forelegs, rump up, tail wagging shamelessly.

Kurt flounders weakly for the headboard, overwhelmed, one hand gripping it while the other anchors in Sebastian’s fur. He feels very sexy Little Red Riding Hood-ish, legs spread and knees crooked and Sebastian huge and preoccupied between them.

“Ohhh, God,” Kurt yelps, the feeling too much, far too much, so warm and wet and lick-lick-lick-lick to the head of his cock making him want to scream much louder.

Sebastian gets spunk on his muzzle in his haste to eat it off of Kurt’s skin when he comes, scrabbling closer and whining as Kurt buckles and jerks with the force of it. Sebastian chases Kurt’s orgasm, his whole tongue wrapping around Kurt’s cock, then warm and close around his balls, long lines up to his belly button.

He obediently stops when Kurt finally pats his ear and pushes his nose away gently. Sebastian nearly punches the air out of him when he lays his big head on Kurt’s belly, shiny hazel eyes adoring. Tempering one’s desires and emotions is nearly impossible in wolf form and Kurt relishes the undisguised infatuation, tries to match it without giving himself a double chin as he stares back down his chest.

He lays a hand slowly along Sebastian’s long jaw; no wolf likes hands coming too fast at their face. Sebastian sniffs his wrist and whines softly.

“Me too,” Kurt smiles, and clean now, shifts.

***

“Oh, you’re getting dressed?” Kurt asks, coming out of the bathroom to find Sebastian tucking an oxford shirt into his pants.

“Of course. Hey, did you pack a suit?” Sebastian says over his shoulder, heading to the back of his big walk-in closet.

“Wha-? No, I did not,” Kurt yelps, jogging to his suitcase. He has zero formal wear and way too many off-the-shoulder sweaters. “Why would I need a suit? We’re going to meet with the Alpha, right?”

Sebastian pokes his head around the closet door, looking not at all apologetic. “Yeah, sorry. I thought you’d know. My father prefers his audiences in human form.”

“Wha-, that’s-, but-” Kurt stutters. “Seriously?”

Sebastian frowns, then comes out of the closet to put his hands on Kurt’s shoulders. His naked shoulders.

“This isn’t some small town full moon gathering, Kurt. What did you expect? It’s the Alpha House.”

Kurt shuts his open mouth.

“Holy shit, now that is a glare. Damn, boy.” Sebastian kisses his forehead. Kurt puts a finger in the middle of Sebastian’s chest and pushes.

“Are you patronizing me? I know very well this is the Alpha House, and my expectations are that I pay my respects to the Alpha nose-first. Hence, no frigging suit was packed.”

“I want to tell you that’s really cute, but I also don’t want to get poked again,” Sebastian winces, palm over his chest.

Kurt shakes his head. “I don’t understand, he would really rather meet me like this?”

Sebastian, braver than Kurt gives him credit for, runs a hand down Kurt’s side to his naked hip. “Well, not exactly like this. We’re a little more civilized than that,” he smiles, eyes on Kurt’s skin.

“Um, last time I checked, I am a wolf who shifts into a human, not the other way around.”

Sebastian shrugs. “It’s the new world order.”

Kurt snorts. “I should hope that’s not the case.” Alrighty then. If the Alpha is going to be a stiff-necked human about it, Kurt can roll with that punch. He leaves Sebastian’s hand and goes back to his suitcase, cards through what he did bring.

“Ugh, can I at least borrow a tie?” he groans. When Sebastian doesn’t answer, he looks behind himself to find Sebastian blatantly oogling his ass. He cocks a hip and supposes that the silver lining to this is doing some oogling of his own; Sebastian’s mile-long legs in well-tailored wool pants are worth a third-glance.

“Tie?” he repeats.

“Um, yeah. Yes. I have ties. Come take a look,” Sebastian responds, and in another bold move, gathers up behind Kurt in his closet as Kurt peruses the uninspiring options.

“This is a nightmare,” he mutters, flicking through the silk.

“Oh, come on, you have plenty to choose from,” Sebastian says into the sensitive skin just below Kurt’s ear, hands wandering all over his stomach.

“No, not- well, actually, yes, your tie collection is sadly lacking in diversity, but I meant not being properly attired to meet the Alpha,” Kurt explains, plucking a matte black skinny tie from the rack. Hopelessly unexciting, but at least not recognizably from Sebastian’s closet.

“If it’s any consolation, I’m not sure it matters what you’re wearing. He’ll be more concerned with your, uh, physical traits.”

“Not consoling at all, thank you.” Kurt rolls his eyes and breaks out of Sebastian’s hold, getting dressed and carefully ignoring Benoit when he drops off a tray of coffee and gives them a 10 minute warning. He may be annoyed with Sebastian, but he’s not going to purposefully provoke him.

Finally, dressed, caffeinated and admittedly impressed with the halls of the Alpha House he’d been too distracted to appreciate the night before, Kurt stands with Sebastian in front of two 10 foot brass doors.

He can see flashes of their reflection in the intricate patterns on the doors; his lips in the tail of a howling wolf, Sebastian’s straight shoulder in the trunk of a buckeye, their touching arms in the ribbon of the Smythe family crest: manu forti. By a strong hand.

He looks up to Sebastian, admits in a whisper, “I can feel it.”

“I’ve got this,” Sebastian assures him, and squeezes his hand. Kurt sure as hell hopes he does because Kurt wants nothing more than to crawl in on his chest and belly. Can feel the compulsion to obey, to submit, emanating through the doors, driving through him like a pulse, like a sound wave. If the Alpha told him to turn around and walk out of the building and never come back, Kurt would do it without thinking twice.

Then Sebastian pushes the right door open and leads the way in.

***

“Oh Sebastian, are you serious?” and a Disney villain laugh are the first things Kurt hears.

He can’t look up from the detailed wool area rug they’re standing on, he has too much to worry about just breathing and staying on two feet. The desire to change into the safety, the simplicity of his wolf is so great that he almost gives in, borrowed tie sacrificed just for the chance to breathe.

“Watch your mouth, Hunter,” Sebastian barks and lets go of Kurt’s hand to put an arm around Kurt’s torso, pulling Kurt in, his palm already damp through the sleeve of Kurt’s shirt. Kurt tries not to cleave to Sebastian’s side, not willing to show any weakness, even though he must smell atrociously fearful.

Kurt chances a peek to the side of the room, where the laugh had come from, and sure enough, there is Hunter, Alpha Boy Heartthrob, lounging on a thick leather couch, be-suited as well. The similarities between the siblings are startling: same height, same handsome features, same quick smirk. But Hunter is a little thicker in the muzzle, in the haunches, gives Sebastian’s air of self-confidence some real competition.

Two cubs stand to either side of Hunter’s knees; a straight-backed little boy in a suit to match his father’s, and a tiny girl in a tiny white sundress who looks ready to break formation and run at Sebastian full-speed, heartbreaking want in her eyes.

Kurt is shocked. The Alpha must have ordered them to behave, because Kurt’s certainly never seen a cub that young a) that still or b) that clothed. Himself an exception, Kurt doesn’t know of a single shifter under the age of five who could be kept from rolling in and out of wolf form like a little uncontrollable chimera.

“No, that’s a good question.”

The Alpha’s voice is like a gong through him. Kurt should be on his stomach, should be nose to the dirt. Kurt’s eyes flinch back down to the rug, but not before a sweeping glance takes in the tall windows, the ridiculously large desk, the Alpha seated behind it, and the woman, the one who had silently watched their arrival, standing behind his chair.

“Yes, father,” Sebastian says, loud and clear, and of course he wouldn’t have trouble making eye-contact, wouldn’t have trouble speaking directly to the Alpha without shitting himself. Blood and politics and love and Kurt knows which is strongest. “Quite serious. This is Kurt Hummel and I’ve made my claim.”

“A Hummel?” Hunter scoffs through his laugh, and stands from the couch to come closer, to sniff at Kurt rudely, and Sebastian’s warning growl to his brother is cut short when the little girl cub hits his leg in a running smack.

“Sebastian!” she yeowls, trying and failing to climb him like a birch.

“Dominique, off,” Hunter snaps, like she’s a dog, and Sebastian pushes Kurt behind himself, obviously torn between keeping Kurt out of proximity to his brother and paying heed to the little cub.

“Enough.”

The Alpha doesn’t have to raise his voice over Dominique’s whines. The cub goes limp and lets her father pluck her from Sebastian’s side.

“Come here.”

Sebastian leads him up to the desk like they’re waltzing up the line in a dance macabre. Kurt is forever grateful for Sebastian’s strong arms, secretly keeping him upright.

Kurt sees an old-fashioned leather blotter, and the Alpha’s big hands, folded on the desk, a huge signet ring on each hand. The Alpha speaks slowly.

“Just yesterday, you stood there and told me that you wanted a strong, healthy, productive bitch. A true Alpha’s mate.”

Hunter snorts behind them.

“And I found him,” Sebastian answers smoothly.

Kurt can feel the Alpha’s eyes on him, knows what he sees. A skinny, effeminate, narrow-hipped boy, lucky to produce within the first five years. The urge to shift makes his hands tremble. Then maybe the Alpha would see, would smell how ready Kurt is, how much he responds to Sebastian. Also, as a wolf, he doesn’t have to stand here and let the leader he’s compelled to follow shame him into thinking he’s not worthy of Sebastian. Not capable of supporting and providing for him. As a wolf, it wouldn’t even be in question.

“So you’re telling me that you can win the Alpha challenges with a male omega as a mate?”

Silence from behind them and Kurt frowns. What kind of father incites such blatant competition between his own children? Oh yeah, the Alpha. A new feeling steamrolls his need to shift: the overwhelming desire to hug his own father.

“Can and will,” Sebastian growls without a whiff of doubt.

Now Hunter speaks up. “Oh Sebastian. You’re making this too easy. I, for one, am delighted that you claimed such a...precocious little morsel of a mate. I think you guys look great together. Really, I think that the entire pack is going to respond so positively to an Alpha candidate with such open-minded tastes.”

“Jealousy suits you, Hunter. At least my mate can claim literac...” Sebastian cuts off and shuts his mouth, as if just remembering the two cubs in the room.

The hands on the desk unclasp and the Alpha stands up, buttoning his blazer casually. Everyone’s focus instantly shifts and Kurt fully gives into his need to bury himself under Sebastian’s arm.

But there, the Alpha is right in front of them, and Sebastian is pulling away like the shore and Kurt is just a rowboat and now the Alpha is hovering over him like a tidal wave.

The finger under his chin feels like a branding iron. Kurt looks up, past the wide mouth with the lines carved around it, just below the Alpha’s eyes. He’s not suicidal.

“So, you want to be an Alpha’s mate.”

The Alpha has asked him a question, Kurt has to answer it truthfully. There is nothing else he can do.

“I want to be Sebastian’s mate,” he whispers. Which is true. He’s still not sure what the emotions sloshing around in his stomach make about being an Alpha’s mate.

The Alpha removes his finger and Kurt just barely stills his fingers from rubbing at the spot.

“I thought the omega son of Burt Hummel would be more ambitious than that.”

The Alpha sounds almost disappointed. Sebastian takes his hand again as the Alpha rounds his desk and sits back down. Kurt holds it tight. Out of his swirl of confusion comes one certainty: he’s going to do everything he can as Sebastian’s mate to make up for what an asshole family Sebastian’s been cursed with.

“Fine. The claim stands. Use this week to think about your future, Sebastian.”

***