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There were three things that Noah Puckerman knows for sure.

One, he is a motherfucking badass. In fact, he is the badassest of all badasses. He is so badass that chicks soak their panties when he comes into view and nerds piss themselves and run.

Second, he is a werewolf. Even though his father was a complete deadbeat who never gave him anything (but not really, 'cause, really, who would want to stay with someone who wasn't their mate?), Puck did get his super fly, supernatural powers from said deadbeat father. Like, sure he left and everything, but you can forgive a guy when you can turn into a badass werewolf on command, right?

Being a werewolf just rocks up his badass factor from a perfect 10.0 to a raging 18.5. 'Cause, let's be honest, what's more badass than being a werewolf? Nothing, that's what.

And Puck really fucking loves being a werewolf. Sure, it kinda hurt when he started transforming, but after a while, he got used to it, but the pay off of going for a run is worth it. He's the king of the fucking forest when he's in were-mode, and he's even run with some of the wild packs that run around Lima. Puck loves the hunt, too. He loves finding and stalking his prey, timing the perfect moment to strike. He loves the feeling of his teeth tearing in flesh, and using his awesome, super-wolf strength to drag his prey to the ground.

So, yeah, Noah Puckerman is a badass werewolf, and he's got a damn fine life. He's the supreme ruler of the school, he can get any girl he wants, he makes all the nerds and geeks run for their lives, and he's a motherfucking werewolf.

Thirdly, Noah Puckerman, the most badass, alpha werewolf of all time, is mated to Kurt fucking Hummel.

.

It was in ninth grade when Puck smelled it.

He'd just been sitting in his third period class (geography or history or some shit like that), pretending to listen to his teacher, when he'd smelled it.

Itwas fucking beautiful. Like warmth, and home, sex and chocolate, and the sun all wrapped up into one delicious scent. Jerking up in his seat, he scanned the room with narrowed eyes, trying to find the source. He'd scented the air deeply, before whipping his head around to his left.

There sitting two desks down, was Kurt the fairy Hummel. And he smelled motherfucking delicious. His scent was wafting towards Puck, drowning him in a scent that just screamed mate.

Puck's body tensed, his hands clenching the metal legs of his desk so hard he could feel it start to dent from the force. His head spun with need, his instincts screaming at him to lunge at Kurt and claim him before someone else touched him. And, Jesus fuck, the thought of someone touching Kurt exploded inside of him. Something snapped, something that demanded he mark Kurt in his scent, rub his nose against his neck and breathe in, maybe even bend him over the table and leave a dark bite on the back of his neck. Or maybe force him up against the wall, push his jeans down over his perky as shit ass and fuck the ever living Hell out of him.

The wolf in Puck growled appreciatively at the thought of that.

Getting through the rest of the day was the most difficult thing Puck had ever done. As soon as the bell had rung, Puck had scrambled from his seat and bolted for the door, elbowing people out of the way in his haste to put as much distance between Kurt fucking Hummel and himself.

His wolf cried out in anger and longing, as Puck threw open the front doors of McKinnley High School and sprinted all the way to his house. His lungs burned and the wold growled and howled as Puck forced himself to put as much distance between him and his mate.

Mate. Motherfucking mate. As in, Kurt fucking Hummel, his motherfucking mate.

Yeah, he was so fucked.

.

As soon as Puck made it into his house, ignoring his mother's loud questioning, he raced down to the basement, threw himself against the wall and began to cuff the metal shackles around his wrists. He never had to do it before this, only on the night of the full moon when his instincts took over and demanded he run and eat and fuck and sleep. Not having the entire town of Lima hunting wolf was on his priorities, kinda number one on his list of shit to do.

Snapping the last cuff onto his wrist, he let his body lean forward, letting his full weight drop forward. The metal cuffs dug into his skin, which would probably leave bruises and marks because of how tight he had them. A slight creak from the wall behind him, but nothing more than that. He was relieved in a way. But he didn't fucking care. All he cared about was the fact that he was chained in his basement like a fucking animal, because of Kurt fucking Hummel.

Oh, Puck was more than fucked. He was super fucked, and not in a good way. Sure, Puck had listened to his mother bitch and moan about mates, and what they meant, but really, all Puck was really interested in was fucking, eating and sleeping. And maybe a little bit of quality time with Finn's new xBox. So, he hadn't really listened to what she was saying (and it was mostly about his father. "Really, Noah, I'll never understand your animal side. Mate, what the hell does that have to do with anything? What aboutmarriage?"). Most of what he did know was from the Internet – you could always trust Google for some answers.

Stumbling across ancient books from the native tribes in Canada had been fucking perfect. Apparently, a mate was perfection. And not just any fucking perfection; no, it was every male werewolf's own perfection. As in, someone that had been born, created, made specifically for him. In Puck's twelve-year-old mind, that was Goddamn perfect. Who wouldn't want that?

Until he kept reading.

Apparently, something his mother had neglected to mention to him was the extreme length of time in which a werewolf can live for. Yeah, apparently the bitch didn't know. As fucking if. From what he could gather, he was motherfucking immortal, for all intents and purposes.

And that was badass, right? Puck sure as fuck thought so.

And he kept reading. And reading. And reading. And suddenly, it didn't seem so badass anymore.

Okay, so he lived forever, that was nice and all. And the mate thing? That was pretty wicked awesome, too. Having the perfect person to live with for eternity? Wicked. Awesome. But, apparently, there was this thing, where you had to wait a couple hundred years for said mate.

No longer quite as wicked awesome.

So, since he had to wait a few hundred yearsfor his fucking mate, Puck had pushed the thought of it from his mind and focused on normal stuff,. You know, porn, food and video games. Oh, and the occasional deer chase a through the woods at night. All Puck wanted to do was survive school and get the fuck out of Lima.

That, apparent-fucking-ly, was no longer his main priority. The moment he placed the scent (and, Jesus fuck, that smelled so good. He could roll around in it, breathing in deeply and probably come from it) to Kurt Hummel, his mate, his thoughts had shifted from porn, food and xBox to claiming, marking and mating. A whole lot of mating, with finger-shaped bruises, and bitemarks and bowlegs in the morning.

Puck surged against his cuffs, the thought of fucking Kurt almost pushing him to over the edge. Chips of concrete fell to the floor with acrack. Puck forced himself to settle his thoughts, to push the idea of a naked Kurt, under him, to the back of his mind. Because, really, that wouldn't help his plan of get the fuck away from Kurt.

And it wasn't even the fact that Kurt was a guy. Sure, Puck liked boobs and stuff, but he'd made peace with the fact that he did find some guys really, really, really attractive. Out of all the people that could possibly be his mate, Puck considered himself lucky. He could have been mated to someone like Hudson, or, God forbid, Karofsky. Kurt was hot, and he was Puck's. As in, all Puck's. And he could admit that he'd checked out Kurt a time or two in the locker room, and he had a great ass. It was perky, pert and the perfect handful of ass. Puck had always been an ass kind of guy, and Kurt had a perfectass.

So, yeah, Puck had lucked out on his mate and all, but there was the whole deal of he had a mate.

"Fuck," he growled, tugging hard on the cuffs linked to the wall. He could feel his wolf throwing itself against the cage of his mind, demanded it be released and allowed to go to his mate.

Fucking books never mentioned this. It felt as if he was raging a war inside himself, against himself. Nothing like this had ever happened before. The biggest fight he'd ever had with his wold was deer or buck? and even that usually ended with a both. But this felt more like WW3 inside his head, and it hurt. His wolf was going insane, raging, growling and howling inside him, a demand for his mate. It pleaded with him, telling him his mate was unmarked and unprotected, where anyonecould get to him, touch him, claim him. Puck had never felt more torn in his entire life. As much as he wanted to give into it's demands, he knew he wasn't stable enough not to try and rape Kurt.

And he'd hurt him, and that would kill Puck.

"Noah Puckerman! What the hell is going on?" his mother screamed from the top of the stairs. The sound of angry heels clacking on the hardwood distracted Puck enough to fall to the cold, concrete floor and take deep breaths. His head felt like it was going to exploded.

When Puck looked up, his mother was standing in front of him, arms crossed over her chest, an angry scowl on her face and an eyebrow cocked. "What the hell is going on?" she repeated, taking in the sight of her oldest child chained to the wall. Her eyes widened. "Is something wrong?" she demanded, hesitating to take a step forward.

Puck's breath was shaky as he croaked out a barely audible, "M-mate."

His mother's look of concern transformed almost immediately into one of anger, and her frown turned to a sneer.

"Poor girl," she muttered, rolling her eyes and throwing her arms up in the air. "I could handle the turning into an animal, Noah, but I am sick and tired of this. I can't deal with it. And you found a mate, huh? You gonna leave Santana for her? I don't understand your nature! You're just like you're father! Just up and leaving people because you can! You're an animal, Noah!"

That hit Puck hard. His eyes widened as he listened to his mother rant. He always knew that she'd never liked his were-side, and that she barely tolerated the late night hunts, but this was knew. He'd never guessed that she hatedit.

He stared as she went on and on, switching from him to him father and back again. For a long time, Puck had blamed his father for leaving, but when he'd started to read about his true nature, he found himself unable to hate his father. 'Cause, honestly, daddy dearest may be a complete jackass how knocked up someone other than his mate, but, really, he couldn't blame him for leaving. Not only was his ma a completely bitch, she also wasn't his mate. And after the whole oh-my-God-Kurt's-my-mate-yo, he could understand. After having a taste of that, why the hell would you want anything else?

"Ma?" Puck croaked out, a shiver running down his spine as he suppressed another growl from his wolf. It was really starting to piss him off.

"Yes?" she snapped impatiently, crossing her arms over her chest once again.

"Do you hate me?" he asked, gritting his teeth as his wolf slammed against the cage in his head. Okay, so now it was reallypissing him off.

Naomi Puckerman sighed, rubbing a hand over her eyes. "I don't hate you, Noah. I just don't know how to deal with this. I accept that this is what you are, but I can't understand, and to be honest, I really don't want to. And I know that you're my son, but I can't handle this. I don't know how to."

Puck stared at his mother for a moment, lesser shivers wracking his body. "Okay," he said softly, "I'll be gone by tonight."

The wolf in him had slowed, no longer raging, and now simply paced back and forth inside his head.

Naomi's eyes widened. "Noah, that's not what I -!"

"Yes, it is!" Puck snapped, baring his teeth at his mother. "I know you don't really accept this! You never have, and you don't hate me, but you don't love me either.

"That's not true, Noah."

"Yes, yes it is!" Noah stood, tensing his arms and snapping the shackles that held him in place. "Because I look like him! But guess what? I'm not fucking him! I'm sorry that he left you, but you can't blame me for his shit, okay? I might be a fuck up and make mistakes, but at least let them be mymistakes."

Puck began to walk to the stairs, brushing by his mother on his way out.

"Noah -"

He stopped at the bottom of the steps, not bothering to look at her. "What?"

"Your mate – what's her name?"

Puck stayed silent for a moment, before tossing over his shoulder, "His name's Kurt," and walking up the stairs and out of the house.

.

He didn't remember how he ended up in front of the Hudson household, a bag of his belongings in hand and a blood stained t-shirt. His mother may have kicked him out (for all intents and purposes), but he could always crash on Carole's couch for a few days before leaving and finding somewhere else to sleep.

He didn't remember how he ended up on Carole Hudson's couch, crying into said woman's shirt as he explained his situation as best he could.

He did, however, remember Carole rubbing his back in affection and comfort as he calmed himself down, and he remembered the way Carole had whispered soothingly to him as he hiccuped his last words out. He remembered the way she'd gone to the small guest room and changed the sheets as he sat on the couch, trying his best to answer Finn's questions. He remembered extending his fangs for Finn, and growling at him when he asked if he chased his tail around like a dog.

He remembered later that night, after Carole had made Finn and him hot chocolate with marshmallows, as he'd sat on the bed, Carole gently telling him that no matter what he was or what he'd done, he'd always be welcomed in her and Finn's home.

After she'd left the room, Puck had emptied his bag in the dresser before changing into a pair of plaid sleeping pants and wife beater. Deciding his shirt was unsalvagable, he tossed it into the trash before crawling under the blankets. As his thoughts drifted back to Kurt, he smiled. Yeah, so he'd been kicked out of his home, but he had a mate now, and he'd always have a place in the Hudson household. And maybe Kurt didn't know it, but Puck was going to make sure that he spent the rest of his super long life making him happy, and always, always loving him.

He just had to figure out how, first.