Title from "Demons" by Imagine Dragons.

Kurt's a vampire. Blaine's a werewolf. They make it work.

Trigger warnings: PG-13. Bloodplay and mentions of death, both in a vampire context. Vampire!Kurt. Werewolf!Blaine.

Or: A (belated for me) Halloween fic in which I use a mishmash of werewolf and vampire lore, and borrow the idea of living vampires from Kim Harrison. (Still accepting prompts - just send me a message here, on Tumblr, or as a comment!)

"Kurt."

He perks up at the soft call of his name from inside his room; doesn't want to admit that he's been pacing up and down the hallway for the last ten minutes since he'd let Blaine into his room and shut the door behind him, torn between listening for his boyfriend's voice and ignoring the pained whines that accompany snapping bones and shifting skin to accommodate the change back from wolf to human. With senses like Kurt's, attuned as they were to every thing of Blaine's, ignoring his pain never got less difficult.

He inches the door open slowly, lips twitching upward as his eyes lighted on his boyfriend. He loves every facet of Blaine - both the human and the not-so-human - but there's something about him like this, sprawled out on his back on the bed and dressed in nothing more than an over-long pair of Kurt's plaid pajama pants, sleepy and pliant after a night of running and smiling dopily back at him. He's a mess in a way Kurt doesn't get to see often enough, hair sticking up in every possible direction and traces of mud that couldn't be scrubbed off at the sink and eyes glowing gold with that hint of wild still in them. It will be hours still before Blaine is able to shake it entirely, stuck in that headspace between wolf and human. It's a nice change from the proper, put-together young man the rest of the world gets to see.

It's enough to make Kurt's (still beating - for now) heart stutter in his chest. He can smell the night on him; traces of forest and fur and his pack clinging to his skin.

He climbs onto the bed beside him, giving in to the urge to run his fingers through Blaine's messy hair and chuckling at the happy sigh it elicits, "How was your night?"

Blaine shrugs sleepily, "'s'fun. Ran with Jeff and Nick. Caught a rabbit." he mumbles, head tilting toward Kurt's hand.

Ah. That was what else he could smell on him. Kurt tries not to wrinkle his nose; he's really in no position to judge, "No one bothered you?" he probes.

"'Course not. You'd rip them apart."

"Only true vampires have that kind of strength, sweetheart."

He gets a snort in response, "...You're a true vampire."

Kurt smiles, scratches his nails gently along Blaine's scalp, "I'm a living vampire. There's a difference." Kurt imagines it's more the worry of starting a full-out war between the Westerville werewolf pack and Lima's vampire coven stopping the rest of Blaine's pack. No one from either side would dare harass Blaine, or Kurt for that matter, now that they were mates in both species' sense of the word.

"For now."

"Not for a long time still." Not until he's aged out of years in this portion of his life, he hopes silently. Dying isn't such a bad thing, not for a living vampire, but he's certainly not in any rush to get there with its dependence on blood entirely for survival and never aging and never getting to bask in the glory of the sound of his own heart beating in his chest. And after becoming a true vampire, there are no second chances; he remembers the day his mother died her true death, his confusion when his father tried to explain that she really wasn't coming back.

Kurt lays his head on Blaine's too-warm chest, letting the sound of his boyfriend's heartbeat ground him in the present as a laugh rumbles through him, "I hope not. I quite like my mate living, thank you very much. I'll like him just as much not-living, but it'll make dinner dates really boring."

Kurt lifts his head, quirks an eyebrow at him challengingly, "I don't know. I got the impression you very much enjoy the vampire version of a dinner date." he teases, eyes traveling down to Blaine's neck and delighting in the way his breath hitches and his eyes glow golden again.

"I-I don't mind it." Blaine stutters. Then, "I'm so gross right now."

Grinning, he noses at Blaine's neck, "Mmm no. You smell like you right now." Like the human side and the wolf side all at once; Blaine at his very essence.

Blaine is quiet, taking in short, gasping breaths until he says, "You can, you know."

He stops, eyes coming up to meet Blaine's, "Are you sure?"

"Kurt." There's a hand in his hair, gently guiding his face back toward Blaine's neck, "It's been a week. I've missed it, and I know you have, too."

His gaze lingers on Blaine's face for another few seconds, searching his expression before he groans, "God you're amazing." he mumbles against Blaine's neck.

"I know."

"And so modest." Blaine doesn't get the chance to answer before Kurt is back to nosing at his throat, lips tracing over the curve where his neck meets his shoulder. He finds the two small points that have already healed over from last time, mouths over them and then carefully, carefully lets his teeth sink in. Blaine makes a noise above him, half groan and half whine, as Kurt savours the taste of his blood in slow, gentle pulls.

He's never drank from anyone else, and never plans to, but he's convinced that no one could possibly taste better than Blaine anyway. He doesn't even need to drink, but it's... It's nice. It's knowing that he carries Blaine with him, and that Blaine trusts him enough to let him have this. It's funny, how perfectly made for each other they are when everyone else wanted to believe that their kinds were made to be enemies. But if vampires were less than living, than werewolves were more than living. Where vampires had to take to survive, werewolves could heal just that much faster than humans to accommodate.

They were the perfect balance for each other.

He ran his tongue over the bite, catching the last drops of blood and watching as the wounds slowly closed up in front of his eyes. He never takes much; doesn't see the point of it. Sure, the boost to his strength and senses is nice, but it's the bonding aspect of it all that he prefers to prioritize. He has to; they're so lucky to have found each other.

Blaine sighs contentedly as Kurt pulls away, hands roaming down Kurt's sides and playing at the waistband of his pajama pants. Laughing, he slaps his hands away and pulls Blaine against his side, "Nuh-uh, mister. You're half-asleep as it is." The sleepy whine he receives in response does nothing to disprove his point, "Tomorrow. We have all the time we want for that in the morning."

Blaine huffs, but curls up with his head on Kurt's chest and an arm draped over him, eyes already slipping closed, "Mm. Love you."

And Kurt smiles again, listening to the echoing thumps of their heartbeats as he closes his eyes, "Love you, too."