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Bite	By : rae_roberts Category: Supernatural > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 4187 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural and make no profit from this story. Just borrowing Sam and Dean for fun.

Chapter List
- 1-Bite
- 2-Ring
- 3-Rape
- 4-Taken
- 5-Finished
- 6-Grind
- 7-Ride
- 8-Submission
- 9-Sixty-nine
- 10-Flashback I
- 11-Mirror, Mirror
- 12-Hoodoo
- 13-Confession
- 14-Flashback II
- 15-Home
- 16-The End
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“So those waitresses you want to bang? Might want to rethink that,” Sam said dryly as they left the diner.
Dean still looked like an average human, having something like twenty-five days left before the full moon transformation, but Sam had been born with the lycanthropy mutation. The hunter’s golden eyes and prominent, fang-like canine teeth made it impossible to hide what he was, and their reception at the diner proved his kind was barely tolerated in the small town.
“You know, we were making progress. Policing ourselves, hunting down rogues. People were gradually getting less bigoted, less fearful.” Sam shrugged. “That all ended with the Dark Moon Brotherhood.”
“These are the douchebags that are kidnapping local women and turning them?”
“Among other things, yeah.” As they walked down the sidewalk to Sam’s not-Baby, a gleaming black ‘67 Ford Mustang he’d inherited from this universe’s Dean, Sam said quietly, “You don’t have to help out on this hunt. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind the company, but this isn’t your world. The kidnappings aren’t your problem.”
“Yeah, well, we don’t have any leads just yet on how to get me back home,” Dean said gruffly. “May as well work the job.”
Over the next several hours they made good progress on the hunt for the Dark Moon Brotherhood, making Dean painfully aware of how much he’d missed working with his brother during the past, lonely year since his own, real Sammy’s death.   It was late afternoon when their efforts yielded an address for a remote farm where they suspected the kidnapped local girls were being held.
“I’m telling you, Sam, nobody in town knows me and I still look human. I can get a look at the place on a pretext, you know, traveling salesman or meter reader or something.”
“I don’t like the idea of you going up against these guys alone,” Sam countered. “The Dark Moon Brotherhood are ruthless—”
“I won’t be going up against them,” Dean insisted, “just checking out the location. I’ll be back before you know it...”
…
“...You just picked it up?” Sam’s expression made it clear he thought Dean had lost his mind. “You see an obvious cursed item, just lying out on a table, and you... Picked it up and put it on?”
“Of course not. I’m not an idiot,” Dean groused. “I took precautions. I wrapped it in a bandanna.” Obviously the precautions hadn’t worked, judging by the cursed silver ring now firmly stuck on the fourth finger of his left hand, but he wasn’t about to admit anything to Sam.
“Idiot! You need a Hand of Glory to pick up a cursed item!”
“Isn’t that a candle made out of a dead thief’s hand, used for…” Dean’s voice trailed off at the look his not-brother gave him. Things apparently worked very differently in this world. “So, how do I get it off?”
“I don’t know.” Sam scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’m going to have to do some research.” He grabbed his jacket and headed for the motel room door.
“Your laptop’s right here,” Dean pointed out, moving to block the agitated werewolf’s exit.
Sam glowered at him. “I can’t even be in the same room with you, Dean.”
“What the hell? I make one stupid mistake and you’re acting like I brought on the apocalypse?”
“You don’t get it. I can’t be around you because that ring is starting to affect me, too.”   He groaned. “Another minute and I’ll be wearing the other half.”   Dean saw that Sam’s hands were clenched into fists. His brow was beaded with sweat. Sam’s next words came out in a deep, intimidating growl. “Get out of the way before I hurt you.”
He raised his hands in a placating gesture and stepped back. “All right, all right. Call me if you find out anything.” The door slammed behind Sam hard enough to rattle the frame.
Dean sat down on the bed as reaction set in. The cursed item had obviously been left as a trap, and he’d walked right into it. Even without the dull ache of the silver contacting his skin, the ring sat awkwardly on his finger. Formed of two interconnected loops, the second loop stuck out over his palm, apparently waiting for another finger to slip through it. Dean tugged at it, not for the first time, but it didn’t budge, though he could twist it around so the second loop protruded over his knuckles.
He sighed and lay back on the bed, restless and in growing pain from the silver pressing against his skin. As strange as that felt, his body’s reaction was even stranger. Ever since he’d put the item on he’d been trying to ignore a raging hard-on. Not exactly easy when every sense seemed to be heightened by the twin curses of his lycanthropy and the ring. Now Dean palmed his hand over the bulge in his jeans, feeling instant relief as he squeezed his cock through the worn denim.
Well, Sam wasn’t here to be offended by the scent of his pheromones or whatever, he thought philosophically, and unbuttoned his fly, pushing down his jeans and the boxers beneath far enough to free his erection.   Dean palmed himself again, pressing the ring against the underside of his cock and sliding it up the length of his shaft. The silver tingled, leaving a trail of heat that lingered, mingled pain and pleasure. Son of a bitch, this universe was turning him into one sick bastard, but damned if the throbbing ache that had been spreading up his forearm from the cursed ring hadn’t gone away.
Dean stroked the ring up the shaft of his cock again, making it twitch and leak pre-cum, letting out an involuntary hiss at the burn of the silver. He stopped just long enough to turn the ring around so the second loop jutted up over his knuckles, leaving his hand free to fist tightly around his rigid cock and tug. He quickly fell into a satisfying rhythm, stroking that incredible, sensitive length again and again, rolling his hips to thrust into his fist at the end of each pass.
His back arched as his climax gathered, his heels digging into the mattress as his balls tightened and desperate, wanton noises spilled from his throat. It just wasn’t possible, he thought wildly, for jacking off in a dingy motel room to feel like the best sex of his life. Dean came with a loud shout, rock-hard cock throbbing, those white-hot stars obscuring his vision for long minutes of pure ecstasy.
Like before, it seemed to take an endless time for his pulse and respiration to slow back to normal, for his cock to stop pulsing out its release. And like before, the evidence of that release was surprisingly little compared to the mind-blowing sensations of his orgasm, just a smear of clear fluid puddled on his belly. Dean rubbed it away with his palm and pulled his jeans back up. His cock was still half-hard, another oddity of his new physiognomy. He shook his head, bemused. How could he feel like he’d just fucked his brains out and not be fully satiated?

And now the damned ring was hurting again, a throbbing ache that would soon spread to the rest of his hand and up his arm. Dean sighed heavily. It was going to be a long night.
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