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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
- 8
- 9
- 10
Dean drove the Mustang with one hand on the wheel, the other entwined with Sam’s. Constant physical contact, especially between the two halves of the silver ring, seemed to hold the symptoms of the curse at bay, at least for a time. Following Sam’s directions, Dean pulled up in front of an impressive mansion in one of Savannah’s toniest suburbs.
“Sorry about this.” Sam started to tug his hand out of Dean’s grasp.   The werewolf’s head was down, his hair falling over his face, obscuring his features, but Dean could hear the guilt in his tone.
“Hey.” He gripped Sam’s hand, holding it in place, and ducked his head to look at his not-brother, forcing the younger man to meet his eyes. “None of this is your fault, okay? Come on,” Dean added, forcing a grin. “I want to meet this world’s version of Chuck Shurley. Last time I saw the dude, he was flat broke, sitting around typing up cheesy paperback novels in his bathrobe.”
It turned out that Chuck still wore a bathrobe, but this universe’s successful novelist sported a monogrammed velvet version when he personally answered the door. “Sam Winchester. Good to see you again! And this must be Dean… Please, come on in.” The author ushered them into a study, all mellow wood paneling and built-in bookshelves. Persian carpets on the hardwood floors and leather-upholstered furniture made for a warm, inviting room.
The books on the shelves, Dean saw, rivaled Bobby Singer’s collection in his own world, if the worn leather bindings and musty smell were a reliable indicator of occult tomes. The hunter’s eyes widened in shock as a woman entered the room with a tray of drinks. “Watch it, lady, that’s my brother,” he growled, intercepting Sam as he reached for a glass of iced tea.
“Dean!” Sam’s own golden eyes widened at Dean’s rudeness.
“That’s my wife.” Chuck’s usually mild tone sharpened as the dishwater-blonde set the tray down with a little, flustered chuckle.
“Becky Rosen-Shurley,” she introduced herself to Dean, offering a hand.
The hunter shook it briefly, but only after a long, distrustful pause.   “Sorry, Sam, but in my world Becky was an obsessed fan. She roofied you, man!”
“Aw, Sam, he’s so possessive. That’s so sweet!” Becky’s slightly protruding eyes sparkled as she took a seat close to Chuck and kissed his cheek. “But you don’t need to worry, Dean, Chuck and I are very happily married.”
Dean realized he’d gripped Sam’s hand again in unconscious reaction to the perceived threat of his brother’s most ravenous fangirl. He glowered but ultimately decided not to let go. Sam rolled his eyes and reached for a glass of iced tea with his free hand.
“Thank you for agreeing to meet,” he told Chuck after taking a sip of his drink.
“Of course. Anything to help. My library is at your disposal.” Chuck waved his hand, indicating the shelves of books.
“And you can stay in our guest house while you research the curse,” Becky added eagerly. “We just finished building it. It’s absolutely darling.”
Chuck coughed self-consciously. “Paid for it with the advance for my latest vampire novel,” he admitted.
“But enough about us,” Becky broke in, giving Sam and Dean a significant look. “I think you two might want to, er… Freshen up a bit before starting your research?”
Dean was about to insist they could get right to it, when he felt a tremor run through Sam’s fingers entwined in his. Glancing sidelong at the werewolf, he saw that his forehead was beaded with sweat, his shoulders tensed. Clearly the curse was exerting its unwelcome effects again. “I’m fine,” Sam insisted.
“That’d be great. It was a long drive,” Dean overruled him. Sam scowled, but once Becky had directed them to the guest quarters behind the main house, the big alpha’s shoulders slumped with relief.
…
“This has got to be bullshit, right?” Sam looked up from the fragile parchment pages of the antique book he was carefully paging through as Dean thrust another tome under his nose.
“The Seal of Solomon? No, as far as I know it’s an accurate resource. Why do you ask?” Sam's forehead creased in confusion.
Dean grimaced. “Because the Seal of Solomon exists in my world, but it’s nothing like this. This is like Solomon was smoking crack when he wrote it.”    He took the book back, setting it aside.
Sam raised his left hand, indicating his half of the cursed silver ring Dean had put on by accident. “Yeah, Dean, the rules are pretty obviously different here.”
“I’m starting to get that,” Dean said dryly.
The two worked in silence for a time until Sam looked over at Dean, watching the older hunter jotting down notes from yet another arcane book of lore. “You’re actually not bad at this,” Sam offered.
Dean scoffed. “I can do research. It might not be my favorite thing ever, like you, nerd”—Sam rolled his eyes and chuckled at the familiar insult—”but I know how.”
Sam checked his watch. “It’s late. Let’s take a break and come at this again fresh tomorrow morning.” He shook his head at Dean’s automatic look of concern, silencing any inquiry about the curse. “Dude. I’m just tired, that’s all.”
Dean whistled appreciatively, not for the first time, at the palatial guest quarters. Sitting down on a sofa, he took off his boots and socks, reveling in the thick, lush carpeting beneath his bare feet as he padded across the suite to the bathroom. “I’m just going to grab a quick shower.”
A barely-audible grunt was Sam’s only reply. The big alpha had sprawled out face down on a king-size bed, stil fully dressed. Dean chuckled at the sight and stepped into the bathroom, which featured both a gigantic whirlpool tub and a steam shower. Dean hoped Sam appreciated the higher income bracket his friends in this world occupied. Opting for the steam shower, he adjusted the controls to his liking, groaning softly as the pulse of hot water from multiple massaging shower heads unknotted muscles he hadn’t even realized were tense. It didn’t take long for the pleasant, relaxing sensation to waken his ever-eager cock, and Dean quickly jerked himself off to an enjoyable climax.
The towels were every bit as luxurious as the rest of the surroundings, oversized and scandalously soft and plush. “You know, Sam, I could get used to this,” Dean announced as he emerged from the bathroom with one of them wrapped around his waist. Again, a sleepy mumble was his only response. Sam had pulled off his clothes and turned down the covers. Dean couldn’t help but chuckle even as his half-softened cock gave a twitch of interest at the sight of the big alpha sprawled naked on the bed. With his eyes closed and his fangs hidden behind his lips, it was hard not to think of Sam as his brother, even though his own, real Sam would never have lounged around a shared motel room nude. Dean stepped closer to the bed, drawn to the younger hunter in spite of himself, feasting his eyes on Sam’s long, lean, well-muscled physique laid out like a tempting banquet in front of him. Sam’s heavy cock draped over one muscular thigh, big and thick even when flaccid.
Dean shook his head, forcibly clearing it of those lustful, damned near incestuous thoughts. Sam was obviously down for the count. He unwound the towel from around his waist and crawled into bed next to his brother, luxuriating in the smooth, sinfully soft cotton sheets sliding against his bare skin. The suite had several other beds, but the curse compelled them to keep in close contact… Which was fine by Dean. No matter his mind’s objections, his body wanted nothing more than to snuggle up to his baby brother.
He did just that, spooning against Sam’s broad back, leaning over to press a gentle kiss to Sam’s cheek. Sam turned his head, meeting Dean’s lips hungrily, plunging his tongue into Dean’s mouth, quickly turning the innocent good-night kiss into something wicked and passionate. Dean moaned as Sam’s fangs grazed his lower lip, promising both pleasure and pain. Sam rolled over to face him, wrapping an arm around Dean’s waist and hauling him tight against him. Dean couldn’t quite stifle another moan as he felt his brother’s cock pressed against his hip, rapidly lengthening as it awoke and sprang erect.
“Thought you were sleepy,” Dean managed to husk out when they came up for air.
Sam’s chest flexed against his as he hitched one shoulder up in a careless shrug. “I’ll get my four hours in eventually,” he said, citing the hunters’ truncated standard of a good night’s rest.
Dean half expected the alpha to roll him over and start prepping his ass for another urgent fuck session, but their time spent “freshening up” earlier hadn’t worn off yet. The fuck-or-die urgency of the curse hadn’t caught up to them. This was desire, plain and simple, inspired by nothing more than proximity and their own strong sex drives. Weird as Dean kept telling himself it was to be making out with a man—a man who might as well be his own little brother, no less—he couldn’t deny the attraction.    Sam was kissing him deeply, frotting their cocks together with delicious friction, hands running over Dean’s body as if he couldn’t get enough of him.
Sam suddenly pulled away, drawing a protesting growl from Dean’s lips, but the alpha only shifted position, turning around on the bed. Dean gasped as he dipped his head and bit into the sensitive skin of his inner thigh hard enough to draw blood.
“Goddamnit, Sam, I told you, I’m not your chew toy,” he snarled, bolting upright and moving to push the werewolf away from him, only to fall back onto the mattress with a moan as Sam fisted his cock, giving it a long, leisurely stroke. Sam licked up the trickle of blood from the twin punctures on the pale skin of Dean’s thigh, his tongue lapping the torn flesh in time with the stroking of his fist on Dean’s cock.
“Sorry,” he mumbled. “You just smell so good… Taste so good…”
Dean stifled a yelp as Sam’s tongue moved to his cock. He let out a long, shuddering moan as Sam took the base of his cock in a firm grip and licked his way up the shaft.   Dean closed his eyes, seeing stars bursting white-hot behind his eyelids as Sam dragged his tongue over the sensitive bundle of nerves just below the head, darting the tip out to lap at the slit, then dragging it in slow, sensuous circles around the head.
“God damn, Sammy,” Dean growled, but this time it wasn’t a protest. He raised up on his elbows to watch his baby brother work on his cock. Sam lifted his eyes at the rustle of the sheets, pausing in his attentions to give Dean a wicked grin, golden eyes sparkling with mischief, his lower lip barely brushing against the exquisitely sensitive head of Dean’s cock. Somewhere at the back of Dean’s mind, where his brain was still able to function, it occurred to him that he hadn’t seen Sam—either version—grin like that since they were kids… Or, well, ever, in the case of this world’s Sam.
Then all thought retreated into a white-hot haze of pleasure as Sam tongued his cock again from base to tip. The alpha let out a pleased, possessive little hum as he lapped at Dean’s slit again, licking up a droplet of pre-cum. Dean groaned and his hips bucked at the sweet torment. His cock twitched against the confines of Sam’s fist, demanding more.
“Suck my cock,” Dean pleaded.
Sam chuckled, driving Dean wild with the sly, knowing sound and gave his cock another slow, tantalizing lick, dragging his hot, wet tongue up the impressive length of Dean’s cock and teasing it all around the head before lapping up another glistening drop of pre-cum. “You first,” he growled.
With a twitch of his hips, Sam brought his cock close to Dean’s face, letting the hunter feel the heat practically rolling off the long, throbbing member. Up close, he could see the thick veins twining around the shaft, the fat, swollen-looking purple head leaking a gleaming rope of pre-cum.   Sam shifted his hips again, slapping his cock against Dean’s cheek, smearing it with the clear, musky fluid even as he gave Dean’s cock another agonizingly slow, teasing lick. “Come on, baby,” Sam taunted. “You know you want it.”
Dean knew no such thing. Even half-blinded by lust, he’d never signed on to sucking another dude’s hairy dick. He wrapped his hand around the shaft, if only to keep his brother’s rowdy, demanding cock from slapping his face again, quickly setting a rhythm, hoping to satisfy the alpha with a hand job.
No such luck. Sam’s own hand slipped from his cock to tug at his balls with enough pressure to drag a whine of protest from Dean’s throat. “Suck my cock,” Sam growled.
Heat pooled in Dean’s belly at the blatant command and he opened his mouth to give Sam’s cock a tentative lick, tonguing the sensitive spot just below the head. Sam’s slit was leaking pre-cum and Dean stroked a thumb over it, wiping away the fresh droplet before he gave another experimental lick, letting the tip of his tongue swirl around the head. The skin was hot and velvety soft, the taste salty but not as unpleasant as he’d feared. “Never did this before…” Dean muttered, his lips just brushing against Sam’s cock, and Sam’s hips bucked in response.
“Good. Want to be your first,” he groaned, and let go of Dean’s balls to grip his hips instead.
An instant later Dean damned near bucked right off the mattress as Sam’s mouth engulfed his straining cock. Dean tried to control himself, tried to hold still for Sam, but his hips had a mind of their own, thrusting his cock into that wet, delicious heat. The werewolf let him have his way, those big, strong hands holding on as he bucked and rocked, but doing nothing to hold him back. Dean whimpered and growled as his cock slid down Sam’s throat, frantic, wanton noises that had Sam humming in approval as he took his brother’s considerable length without protest.
Some deep, submissive instinct had Dean wrapping his own lips around Sam’s cock, sucking and licking as best he could even as Sam’s skillful ministrations made him lose his mind. Dean moaned deep in his throat as he felt his orgasm building. The heat of Sam’s mouth, the impossibly good sensation as he swallowed around Dean’s shaft and took his head deep into that velvet throat, it was all too much and Dean came hard and fast, sobbing with the intensity of his orgasm.
Sam swallowed his load and pulled off his cock with a loud, wet pop as the suction released, dragging a final moan out of Dean at the insult to his over-sensitized cock. “Your turn.”
Dean’s brain was mush, his thoughts fuzzy and wandering in the afterglow. He let out a yelp as Sam shoved him flat onto his back and straddled his chest, pinning his arms to his sides. Once more, that big, demanding cock slapped at Dean’s face as Sam thrust his hips forward, making his intentions more than clear. This time Dean took Sam into his mouth without hesitation, eager to give his mate what he so obviously wanted.
Sam held still for as long as he could as Dean found his rhythm, bobbing his head forward to take as much of Sam’s length as he could, licking the underside of the shaft as he let his head drop back. His efforts were amateurish but Sam moaned his approval. It wasn’t long before he couldn’t hold back any more and started to move, rocking his pelvis forward to thrust into Dean’s mouth.
The hunter felt himself start to gag and reached for Sam’s hips, but a growl from the alpha had him dropping his hands back to fist in the sheets. Sam slipped a hand into Dean’s hair, running his fingers through it in a gentle caress before cupping the back of his head firmly, holding him in place. “Just relax, baby. You’re doing fine,” he crooned. He pulled back, letting his cock slip almost all the way out of Dean’s mouth, then thrust back in.
Dean struggled not to gag as Sam took control and used his mouth, sucking that big, demanding cock as best he could as Sam thrust in and out. He whined around the thick shaft, feeling the muscles of his throat clench involuntarily, but Sam just threaded his fingers through his hair and kept right on ramming his cock past Dean’s tonsils and into the back of his throat. Dean couldn’t help it; he gagged, stomach jolting, but Sam was relentless, pulling out only for a second before thrusting back in again.
“Take it,” he growled, his voice deep and commanding, and Dean felt his resistance melt into submission. His throat relaxed and, with an effort, he got his breathing under control, pacing himself, matching each inhale and exhale to the rhythm of Sam’s thrusts. Sam wasn’t letting him even try to give him a blowjob. He was completely in control, using Dean’s mouth for his own pleasure, thrusting deep into Dean’s throat, blocking his airway, only letting him take another breath when the head of his cock had had its fill of stroking against the back of Dean’s throat. Dean gasped in a breath each time Sam pulled out, keeping his lips wrapped tight around that thick, rigid shaft each time it thrust back in, eagerly licking the hot, velvety smooth head each time it passed over his tongue. His world had narrowed down to Sam’s cock in his mouth, his only thought to give his mate pleasure.
Sam’s thrusts slowed, his cock growing even harder as his climax approached. He pulled out almost all the way, rubbing the spit-slicked head of his cock over Dean’s lips for long moments before thrusting back into Dean’s throat. Then out again as Dean strained to lick and suck every inch, worshipping Sam’s cock with swollen lips and eagerly lapping tongue.
“Can’t wait… Dean!.. You’re just so damn good,” Sam groaned, and fisted his hand in Dean’s hair, hips bucking forward and thrusting his cock down Dean’s throat. Dean gagged again and his stomach clenched and rolled again in helpless protest, but then Sam’s cock shifted in his throat, tightening, signalling the end. Sam howled in ecstasy and came, his cock pumping its release down Dean’s throat, and Dean felt proud to take it, sucking it down eagerly until Sam finaly gave a groan of satisfaction and pulled out.
Dean sprawled on his back, exhausted, as Sam slid down his body to straddle his knees. He whimpered as the werewolf closed his mouth over the bite wounds he’d inflicted on him earlier. “Jesus, Sam, I’m only human,” he growled. “I need a break.”
The whine turned into a moan of passion as Sam lazily stroked his cock, rock-hard again and twitching at every stroke, making a lie of his protest. His cock was already eager for more.    Dean propped himself up on his elbows and looked down at his not-brother as he knelt over him, his own cock glistening with cum and Dean’s spit, still jutting up, erect and demanding as ever.

“Ah, hell… We’ll sleep when we’re dead.”
Author's note: This is twice as long as my usual chapters. If you like what you've read so far, drop a line and say hello. Or if you hate what you've read so far, but let's face it, after nine chapters of PWP, if you're still reading and you hate it, you're clearly some sort of masochist. If reviewing is too tedious, please consider leaving a rating. I love feedback!
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Bite