Sebastian blinks, his eyelids heavy, bright white light piercing his dilated pupils, shooting daggers to his brain. His entire body is sore, muscles throbbing with an unearthly ache he's never felt. Every centimeter of skin stings like he was tossed into an industrial shredder. He tries one more time to open his eyes but realizes quickly that it's not going to happen. He has no desire to get up, but a heavy weight on his hands and feet piques his curiosity. Knowing better than to try and open his eyes again, he pulls at his sore limbs and feels thick leather cuffs binding his wrists and ankles, the sound of a chain clinking every time he moves them.
As his mind becomes more lucid and aware, he tries to assess his situation. He shifts positions slightly, trying to relieve the numbness creeping into his hips and ass, and a slow smile spreads on his face.
He's lying in a bed, covered by a light sheet, and he's definitely naked. He shifts one more time to be sure, feeling the soothing cool of Egyptian cotton above and beneath him. He stops moving and tries to concentrate on what exactly he did last night in an effort to figure out where he is right now.
Yesterday was Friday. Normal day at school. Afternoon Lacrosse meet with the Westerville Warriors from that God-awful public school on the other side of town, some hot guy gave him his number, and then…after that, nothing. It's like the whole evening has been erased from his memory. He doesn't remember leaving the Dalton campus, doesn't remember the after party at all, can't recall when or if he made it back to his dorm room.
Sebastian isn't all too concerned. He's blacked out once or twice before. He usually snaps out of the amnesia that goes along with it within twenty or so minutes of waking up.
Still, there's a peculiar prickling unease swirling in the back of his mind, like maybe this time is different; maybe he's in a stickier situation than he realizes.
The sound of footsteps causes him to go completely still, as if some hidden instinct is on the alert for danger. It's off-putting, how the reaction suddenly takes over, but it feels natural at the same time. He can hear the footsteps coming from somewhere above him, louder than they should be for the distance he estimates they are coming from, especially factoring in the thickness of the ceiling above him. He takes a deep breath of the cool morning air. It smells earthy, damp, musty, like he might be underground.
A basement.
Suddenly being cuffed hand and foot to a bed doesn't sound like too much fun anymore.
The footsteps start getting louder, accompanied this time by muffled voices and the opening and shutting of a door – a door nearby.
The footsteps come closer and Sebastian panics, tugging hard on the cuffs, tossing his head back and forth to clear his vision, not wanting to be blind when he meets his captor face to face.
"It's okay. Calm down. You'll hurt yourself."
The voice that speaks to him is high and soft and familiar; oh, so familiar.
"Kurt?" Sebastian calls into the bright blurriness that he can see with his open eyes.
"Yes, Sebastian," Kurt responds hesitantly. "It's me."
Sebastian wants to laugh. He shouldn't, but he wants to. Finally the princess has lost his marbles, and now Sebastian is about to be tortured within an inch of his life, but how? Showtunes? Avocado mask? A live reading of that Patti LuPone book he keeps raving with Blaine about? Sebastian should take this more seriously, but even if he is in some sort of mortal danger, he can't really take Hummel seriously as a kidnapper. Sebastian chuckles, unable to hold it in any longer, and regrets the sound the second he makes it.
"I'm sorry about the headache," Kurt says wincing, "and the light sensitivity. The more you blink, the faster your vision will clear up."
Sebastian takes his advice, blinking furiously. His eyelids are uncooperative; his eyes dry, but soon the fuzziness clears and he can see the room he's in. It's not much to look at. Besides the bed there seems to be only one other piece of furniture in the whole place; a single wood dresser standing alone in the corner.
It's the walls that sober Sebastian up in record time.
Plain gray cement walls covered with shackles, chains, cuffs of all sorts, and scratches – deep, long, embedded scratches dug straight into the brick.
Sebastian turns his attention back to Kurt, his green eyes hard and uncompromising.
"How did you get me down here?" Sebastian asks, trying to sound authoritative and in control despite his current condition. "Why did you tie me up?"
"I had to sedate you," Kurt explains. "You kind of went agro last night. You attacked a police officer. I managed to get you away and I brought you here. I'm sorry about the drugs, but I didn't want anything bad happening."
Sebastian tries to make sense of this information, but he can't.
"I don't understand," Sebastian says. "You sedated me? Why did I attack a police officer?" Sebastian takes another look around, trying to find the door to the room, to formulate some sort of escape plan, but he doesn't see it from his vantage point. He narrows his eyes at Kurt who seems unconcerned by Sebastian's venomous stare. "What happened last night?"
"Sebastian," Kurt says, pacing in a path around the bed, "I don't know how to put this delicately, so I'm just going to say it." Kurt stops at the head of the bed, grabbing hold of the post for strength. "You're a werewolf."
Sebastian stares up at Kurt blankly for a few seconds, blinking twice before exploding into a fit of laughter, groaning when the pain in his head gets intense, but it doesn't matter – pain or no, he can't stop.
"You're shitting me," Sebastian says. "What kind of prank is this?"
"It's not a prank," Kurt insists, the sound of genuine desperation in his voice sending an ice cold tremor down Sebastian's spine. "You were turned last night. Bitten."
"By who?" Sebastian rolls his eyes, willing to play along for now, hoping to find a way out of this mess, but something about the mention of being bitten starts to ring disconcerting bells.
"My guess is that captain from the other Lacrosse team," Kurt says, his words sounding bitter to Sebastian's ears. "The one you were making out with under the bleachers."
Sebastian closes his eyes, trying to drudge up more memories from yesterday afternoon. The captain of the Westerville Warriors, the blond with the green eyes and that incredible build. He was aggressive, strong, persistent. Sebastian had a vague recollection of the boy covering his neck in hickeys pretty hardcore.
"Okay," Sebastian says, opening his eyes again, "let's say this is true. How do you know so much about it?"
Kurt shifts uncomfortably, starting back on his path around the bed, ending at the foot this time so Sebastian can see him fully. It doesn't register with Sebastian at first, but the longer he looks at Kurt standing in front of him, face and neck covered completely in chestnut-colored fur, his eyes rounder and wide like a dog's eyes, the more realization dawns on him.
"Fucking shit!" he screams, launching himself backward, trying to scoot up the bed, but the chains hold him back. Sebastian blinks, and the next time he sees Kurt, the fur is gone; his eyes normal, human eyes, looking down at him with sadness and sympathy.
"It's alright," Kurt coos, rushing to his side. "It's going to be alright."
"How did you do that?" Sebastian mutters anxiously, struggling against the chains. Kurt touches his arm lightly and Sebastian feels his whole body relax, the reaction so immediate that Sebastian doesn't even have the wherewithal to question it. "Are you a werewolf?"
"Yes," Kurt says. "I am."
"Were you bitten, too?" Sebastian's voice sounds less frantic and he melts back onto the bed, moving subconsciously closer to Kurt sitting beside him.
"No." Kurt shakes his head with a weak smile. "I was born this way, which is why I can control it. And you will, too. You'll learn."
Sebastian's eyes darken, his brow knits, confused as to what Kurt means, and why he looks so burdened by the idea of Sebastian coming to terms with his new affliction.
"So, what? Are there support meetings?" Sebastian asks. "Do I have to chart the planets and the stars so I know when not to go out at night? What's the protocol here?"
"It's not that simple," Kurt says, toying with the edge of the sheet, running the soft fabric through his fingers.
"Why?" Sebastian asks with growing dread. "Why is it not that simple?"
"Well, in order to get you back here…to keep you safe," Kurt adds the last part quickly and with extra emphasis, "measures had to be taken. I had to…"
Sebastian tries to sit up, suddenly feeling vulnerable trapped on his back.
"What, Kurt?" Sebastian stares at Kurt who continues to fiddle with the sheet, not quite able to meet Sebastian's eyes. "What did you have to do?"
"I kind of had to…lure you back here."
"And how did you do that?" Sebastian asks, a strong feeling in the pit of his stomach that he's not going to be happy with the answer.
"I kind of…had sex with you," Kurt says sheepishly, a red flush creeping up his neck into his cheeks. Sebastian blows out a sigh of relief, dropping back down onto the pillows beneath his head.
"Is that all?" Sebastian laughs. He throws a pointed glance down his naked body covered in the sheet, then looks back at Kurt with a sarcastic smirk. "I kind of assumed that much already. You had me worried there for a moment, Hummel."
"You don't understand…"
"I mean, I don't even remember it, so it can't have been that good," Sebastian rambles.
"Sebastian…"
"And don't worry. I won't tell anyone," he continues, heedless of Kurt's interruptions. "Not that I would want to advertise…"
"Sebastian!" Kurt says firmly, leaning over Sebastian and staring into his eyes. Sebastian obeys instantly. There's a compulsion in his mind to obey Kurt; a need that fills Sebastian's entire body, and that feeling of dread pools in the pit of his stomach again. "We're werewolves, and last night, under the full moon, we mated in our werewolf form."
Sebastian shakes his head. He's not sure what Kurt's trying to tell him, but he's sure his life as he knows it is over.
Kurt drops his head to Sebastian's chest and sighs.
"We're stuck with each other, Sebastian," Kurt says, his voice sounding as defeated as Sebastian feels. "Werewolves mate for life."
