Contrary to popular belief, weres don't actually need alphas. Patrick never had one, since he's the only person in his family with the gene, and his parents didn't push him into finding one. Alphas make their betas better; they keep them calm and level, they support them, they guide them. Without an alpha, betas are perfectly fine. They're just better with one.

“Sid, need you to pay attention to me,” Alex says firmly. “You have bond crisis. You sick, Sid. Very sick. Need somebody to touch you to stop you being sick.” “I didn’t know you could get sick from being lonely,” Crosby mumbles. Zhenya makes a noise that sounds like he’s been punched. “I guess it makes sense, though.”

Andre walks in on something he couldn't have imagined in his wildest dreams.

It coalesces somewhere around hour two, and then it’s suddenly, inescapably, achingly obvious. He takes a deep breath and realizes he’s just really, really horny. What the ever-living hell? -- Wherein curses are real, pride comes before a fall, and PK and Carey have to cope with a little more magic than anyone expected.

What is supposed to be a special night for them takes a seemingly nightmarish turn. (AKA the one where Nicky grows tentacles.)

This all felt so familiar to Justin. Inspired by it wrecks who it pleases by addandsubtract.

"Leon." Matthew says. He can't remember wanting someone like this before, never in his life, like without them he'd explode. Leon is six-plus feet of warm skin and Matthew wants to ruin him. "Leon," he says again. "I promise I'll still hate you in the morning."

"We've got a special request tonight," the PR rep says, clipboard in hand. The way she says it, you can hear the implied capital letters: Special Request, the publicly friendly way to say some fans shelled out a lot of cash to watch you fuck.

The NHL draft entry class of 2006 are the new best and brightest, and they have to do what the best and brightest have always done: go to an isolated swamp in the Canadian wilderness, let the hockey gods have their way with them, and incubate the next generation of gods in their bellies.

Zach has always had a sweet tooth, and Dylan has always been willing to abide.