For someone who loves vampire/werewolf fic, I really don't write enough of it.

"Kurt, don't do this!"

"I'm not letting Puck win this one, Rachel," Kurt said, yanking his arm out of his best friend's grip. "If going to Dalton is what it takes to get him to shut up for once, then I'll do it."

"You'll get killed! Or worse, they'll force you to tell them our setlist!" Rachel replied, gesticulating wildly. "We can't let a bunch of animals know our plan for Sectionals, Kurt!"

"Glad your priorities are in order," Kurt said with a roll of his eyes. "But I'll be fine, Rach, I promise. I won't even go in the building - just skulk around the outside until I can hear where they're practicing. Worse comes to worst, I spend a little too much time in the daylight and get a headache."

"You swear you won't go in?" Rachel asked, raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms over her chest. "Much as we would appreciate some intel, I also don't feel like getting into a turf war as well as a show choir competition with those werewolves. We don't want to spread ourselves too thin."

"Scout's honor," Kurt said, holding up a hand. "I'll go there, spy on the Warblers without ever actually meeting them, and leave. We'll have some real intel on them, and Puck will have to stop giving me crap in Glee. It's an all-around win."

"Fine. But be careful!"

"Aren't I always?" Kurt asked playfully, shooting a full-fanged grin at Rachel before running off toward Westerville. Vampire speed was so much more efficient than his car.

Kurt had just passed the town line when he felt the itch crop up in the back of his mind.

Here? he thought, slowing ever so slightly. But Westerville is majority wolf - Lima's where all the vampires live. Who could possibly be my mate here?

Shaking his head, he pushed his speed back up. There would be time to find his mate later - just then, he had to focus. The Dalton Academy Warblers (and seriously, they'd named themselves after birds?) had won their past two Sectionals while the New Directions had lost both of theirs, leaving them with only one more year of funding before the school decided the program was a wash. Kurt had to do whatever it took to figure out how to beat them - both to show up Puckerman and to save the only bearable part of his high school experience.

Still, the itch only got stronger as Kurt approached the heavily wooded Dalton campus, leaving him more confused than before, as only werewolves went to school there.

So my mate's a - no. He couldn't be. That doesn't happen - does it?

Kurt wracked his brains as he sneaked around the perimeter of the campus, trying to remember if he'd ever heard of a vampire-werewolf mating. He knew it wasn't impossible, but generally speaking, vampires and werewolves stuck to their own kinds.

"Whatever," he whispered, frustrated. "You've been given far too much crap for liking other boys. Don't turn around and pass judgment on the possible species of your mate, Hummel."

He neared a door, and the urge to enter the school suddenly flooded his body. All his senses were informing him in no uncertain terms that whoever his mate was, he was right there - or at least, very, very close.

Kurt froze, torn between keeping his promise to Rachel and following his instinct to go after his mate. He compromised by pulling some pine sap off the nearest tree and making a vague attempt at covering his scent, as he'd heard that werewolves smelled woodsy to one another. While he wasn't going to fool any of them for long, he hoped that his weak disguise might at least get him close to his mate.

Once he thought he smelled sufficiently pine-y, he made sure no one was watching and darted through the doorway. The corridor he entered was much, much nicer than any of the school buildings he'd been in back in Lima, decorated in dark woods and rich earth tones. It screamed werewolf, though none were around at that moment.

At least, not until the bell rang.

Kurt let himself drift into the swarm of boys that filled the halls, hoping the blazer and shorts he'd worn to school that day were at least less obtrusive than some of his other outfits would have been. Most of his focus, though, was on determining which one of these boys was supposed to be his. He let the itch in his brain take over and lead him toward a fairly uncrowded stairwell, where he noticed-

-him.

"Excuse me," Kurt said, hustling down the stairs to the black-haired boy near the foot. "I'm-"

"Oh," the boy interrupted, eyes wide and wondrous. "There you are. But you smell - off."

"I, uh...might have disguised myself a bit," Kurt said. He bit down gently on his lower lip, trying to subtly flash his fangs.

The boy's knowing head tilt let Kurt know he'd seen them.

"Come on. I know a place where we can talk," the boy said, taking Kurt's hand.

They ran down a series of hallways, stumbling occasionally as one of them turned to smile elatedly at the other. Finally, the boy stopped and unlocked a door.

"This is my room. It's a single, so don't worry about anyone interrupting us - not that we'll be doing anything interruptable! I just thought you might want somewhere private to talk," he said, blushing red.

Kurt's fangs throbbed at the sight.

"No, this is fine," Kurt said. He shifted awkwardly on his feet before asking, "Just - you didn't lead me here to, I don't know, jump me or something, right?"

"What?" the boy asked, shocked.

"I don't know much about werewolves!" Kurt said. "And I don't know if you have some vendetta against vampires, either. The only thing I'm sure about right now is that you're the one I was supposed to find today."

"I could say the same," the boy said. "I mean...I don't even know your name."

"Kurt."

"I'm Blaine."

"Blaine," Kurt repeated. "My mate, Blaine."

"How did you even find me, Kurt?" Blaine asked, a faint smile on his face. "I've been hoping for so long, but knowing now that you're a vampire - you can't have just been in the neighborhood."

Kurt bit his lip again, this time in genuine uncertainty. "I may have been intending to do some espionage?"

"On whom?" Blaine quirked his head adorably, and oh, Kurt didn't know if he wanted to kiss him or bite him in that moment.

"The Warblers? We need to beat them next month."

Blaine snorted a laugh, making Kurt tilt his own head in confusion. "Of course. This is unbelievably convenient."

"Excuse me?" Kurt asked.

"Hi, I'm Blaine Anderson, lead soloist for the Dalton Academy Warblers," Blaine said, grinning widely. "We've been the state champions for the past two years, and I assure you, we're not giving up our crown any time soon."

"We'll see about that," Kurt said, smirking right back. "The New Directions have been working harder than ever this year, and we're not going down without a fight."

"So we've both got the competitive spirit, I see," Blaine said. His voice was still cocky, but Kurt could see his posture ease.

"That just makes it more fun," Kurt said. "Are you okay? You deflated a little just now."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. It's just - I'm so happy you're here that I can't really sustain any other feelings for too long. Even if they're as justified as my pride in the Warblers," Blaine said with a wink.

"I still can't believe I really found you," Kurt admitted. "This was so much more than I was expecting."

"Kurt," Blaine said, stepping closer. They locked eyes for a long moment before one of them - Kurt honestly wasn't sure which - finally leaned in and connected their lips.

Kurt sighed as he relaxed into Blaine's embrace, loving the warm feel of his body and the way he smelled lightly of campfire smoke. He would have been happy to stay there kissing Blaine forever, but when he felt Blaine start to pull away, he reluctantly let them come up for air.

"Why'd you stop?" Kurt asked once some of the fog cleared from his brain.

"Because I have to ask - why is there pine sap in your hair?"