The moon is nearly full in the sky, hanging big and proud, bathing the trees in its silver glow. The wind rustles quietly through the branches of the pines, standing tall like giants. They hug each other close, shading the ground, obscuring him from view. No mortals dare come up the mountain this far, not many would survive it. The terrain is treacherous and there are too many places for monsters like him to hide. Any who venture thus far can disappear without a sound without a trace. But its not mortals he is hunting tonight.
The night is cold, frost forming on the grass, hearing it, crunching softly beneath his feet. The soft, orange light from the cabin’s windows call him forward, like a sailor to the sea. He can hear him, even from here, powered by the full moon, his blood pumping strong and powerful around his body. It’s a routine, a monthly habit they somehow started. Near each full moon, Billy comes in to his most powerful phase, his rut looming, strengthening hour after hour. Its also when Steve is most hungry, the blood of the mortals only sustaining him so long. It’s magic blood he needs, his werewolf blood is the strongest of them all, full of strength and rage and fire. From the first drop that hit his tongue all those months ago, Steve has been addicted, craving that surge of sheer power in his body. And the wolf craves the submission, the claiming, the age-old instinct that runs through his bloodline to mate and breed and claim. Every month they come back to dance this dance.
Long, slender fingers of a pale hand curl around the cold brass of the door handle and it gives way easily under his grasp, the door swinging open with an old groan. The cabin is warm, a pleasant contrast against the chill of the winter woods. He shuts the door behind him, bolting it uselessly and dark eyes search around in the softly light room. The place smells musky, old fabric and old wood. The sweet smell he’s been hunting hangs in the air, teasing at his nostrils, feeding the ache of hunger in his throat. He can’t see him, but he can hear him, the soft drag of his breathing in the dark, the beating of his heart, heightened in anticipation. Steve moves through the cabin, feet making barely a sound on the aged floorboards. He discards his heavy coat as he goes, draping it over the back of the couch, the rich, black fabric contrasting against the worn flannel cushions.
He makes his way down the corridor, breathing deep, dragging the scent in to his lungs, head dizzy with it. He smells sweet like honey, with a hint of spice like ginger and the musk of cinnamon. His mouth waters, hardly able to wait to taste.
He reaches the bedroom, pushes open the door but finds it bare. It doesn’t deter him. He knows this game too well, knows the instinctual traits that his prey is homage to. Steve unbuttons his shirt, lets the silken fabric slip to the floor. His pants come next, his briefs, until he is naked as a babe. He bends to run his fingers through the thick, soft fur of the bearskin draped across the bed. He crawls on top, stretching his body out on its soft plush, arching in to its embrace.
He hears it then, the low growl, like the distant rumble of thunder. He’s watching him, he knows. He rolls to his front, arches his back, makes a hint of presenting himself, knows it will please the Alpha in him. He’s rewarded with a rumbling growl, louder than the last and that heady scent fills the room, drag its way in to Steve’s senses, makes him shudder where he lies.
A large, warm hand cups his calf, calloused skin running up the length of it, kneading at the muscles of his thighs. Steve keens, the heat of him almost too much on his cold skin. The touch is joined by another, strong hands turning his body over on to his back.
Billy looms over him, eyes dark, hooded. He is naked too, Steve’s eyes dragging over the power of him, over the rolling muscles beneath tanned skin. He shivers, the dominating presence of the wolf hard to deny. His golden curls hang about his shoulders, falling in to his eyes and the vampire itches to reach up, lace his fingers through, pull them back from that face. There’s plenty time, he reminds himself. He lies back, spreads his legs a little and watches those eyes darken, pupils swallowing the irises as they drag over the expanse of Steve’s creamy, alabaster skin. He feels more than hears the low growl, eyes tracing along the curve of his cock where it lies swollen and flushed against his thigh, curling up to his stomach. Steve’s eyes drag down the contours of his chest to where his own swollen member just out from his body, hard and heavy. He wants to lean forward and lick at him, taste the salt of him. A hand comes to his throat, the mattress dipping beneath his weight as he kneels over Steve, straddling his body. He hovers above him, leaning low, turning his head so his neck is bared. His hand slips away and tongue licks up the exposed expanse of his neck.
Steve shudders, feeling the power of submission washing over him, the Alpha caging him in with his body, sniffing at his skin, teeth scraping across, hinting at what is to come. Steve could fight him off if he wanted to, his strength matches his, his power too. He doesn’t want to, he craves this as much as he does. He already feels drunk on his scent, body responding to his proximity and his heat, arching up in to it, throat burning with the need.
Billy chuckles, leans down and claims his lips with his own. He kisses him with all the hunger he feels, dominating, tasting his tongue, biting at his lips, growling at his gasps. Steve gives as good as he gets, sharp nails digging in to the skin of his shoulders and dragging across, breaking the skin, moaning when the smell of his blood fills his senses. Billy presses down, presses his body against Steve’s and he roars in satisfaction at the friction.
His mouth finds his again and its wild and messy and his fingers tug at those curls. He bites hard at his lip, fangs slipping through until he tastes a pinprick of blood. He shudders, moans, bucks up against him and is nearly coming undone then and there.
Billy pulls away, licking at his lips, taking away the drop of blood there. Steve’s dark eyes enthralled. “Patience, pet,” he growls out, hands holding the vampire down.
But patience was never one of Steve’s strong suits, and he knows for all this alpha’s show, he loves to be put in his place. Steve isn’t; a wolf. He’s not a bitch in heat, bending over, begging the alpha to claim him. He’s a vampire, an ageless being, hundreds of years old. He teases, gives as good as he gets, claims Billy just as he claims him. It’s a power play, a dance that is dangerous and foreign and forbidden.
He flips them over, using his strength to pin Billy down against the mattress. He sees the gleam in his eyes, the gold threading through the blue, his rut almost completely upon him but not quite yet. He’s not full alpha yet, still got some of Billy in him which allows himself to get pinned down like this. He leans back in to the fur, smirking up at Steve and relaxes, the fight going out of his arms and he lies there pliant, waiting for Steve to do as he pleases.
Steve’s trembling, trying not to let it show. The proximity, the smell of him, the tiny taste he had gotten from his lips, he’s fighting with his own instincts not to just tear him apart, sink his teeth in to that throat and drink his fill.
He trails his fingers down the expanse of his chest, watching his skin jump beneath the drag of his long nails. He marvels every time at the difference in them; Steve’s pale as snow skin against Billy’s sun kissed gold. He shuffles down his body, feeling the hard press of his shaft between the crease of his ass. He grinds down upon him a little, nails trailing through the smattering of hair at his navel, watches the werewolf jump and shudder. Steve grins, fangs glinting, runs his tongue over them and watches Billy’s eyes darken, gold thread thicker, mouth fall open.
Any lesser being would panic, the sight of his long, sharp fangs usually was enough to scare any mortal, force their fight or flight instincts in to motion. But not Billy. Billy was a hurricane, a challenge, just as dangerous as him. He shivers under the implication of those fangs, finds it endlessly arousing that Steve could tear him apart at any given moment, simply chooses not to.
He shuffles down lower, leaning down to lick at his skin, tasting the salt of his sweat, hearing the blood coursing beneath. Billy moans as his tongue snakes out to tease along the ‘V’ of his hips. Steve feels the press of him against his chest, the hard and needy flesh, filled with blood, calling to his mouth, adding to the ache in his throat, his gut. He forces himself to wait, just a little longer, just some more teasing, knowing it would be more than worth it.
He tongues his way down his hip, Billy’s legs shifting to accommodate him between them. He likes this about him too, he’s gentle with him, thoughtful, holds him close, makes sure he is comfortable, even in the haze of his oncoming rut and the growing moon he cares just that little bit for Steve.
He hooks a hand beneath his knee, prompts him to bend it and moves his tongue along the soft skin. He glances up to Billy’s face, smirking when he sees he is leaning up, eyes watching Steve’s every move. His eyes meet his and Steve pauses, lips resting against the skin of his inner thigh until he gives him that small, almost unnoticeable nod.
His teeth sink in to the tender flesh. It gives way easily to his sharp fangs. He’s so delicate here, the skin so light Steve can hear the blood rushing though his arteries. He drinks greedily, head canted back to reach, drinking deep. Billy’s moaning and his legs are twitching in an effort not to move. Feeding is natural to Steve, when he feeds off the mortals they feel the ecstasy, a side effect of his predatory make up. He is beautiful ethereal, invites his victims in, the feeding is meant to be pleasurable for them, so they want more, give more, the blood tastes better when it’s mixed with ecstasy. Steve’s never felt anything other than the sating of his thirst when he feeds.
But with Billy, its different. Everything is different with him. Steve feels fire spike through his veins, feels the surge of power as he drinks from his magic. He bucks down in to the mattress, whining at the delicious taste, at the feeling of pure ecstasy washing over him. Billy’s in no better state, writhing and moaning, hands fisting the fur beneath him.
Steve pulls off, not wanting to take too much, not yet. Billy can withstand more blood loss than the mortals but Steve wants his energy to remain, he’s nowhere near done with him yet. He rests his cheek against his thigh, gasping to regain his breath. Blood is smeared across his lips and he licks at it greedily grinning at the whine he elicits from Billy at the sight. He can feel Billy’s hard cock against his cheek, its heat, the velvety softness of the skin.
He drags his tongue along his length, unable to resist and moans at the sound of the blood pulsing underneath, he wants to sink his teeth in there, drag his fangs along and drink from there. He knows he can’t, knows Billy would probably kill him if he tries. But this part of him has other uses for Steve other than a drinking well.
Steve surges up, thumbs at the two puncture holes in Billy’s thigh where his legs are still sprawled out either side of Steve’ hips. He brings the last recesses of blood to his mouth and licks at them, eyes on Billy’s the whole while. He grins and goes to reach for his cock but the wolf moves quick, surges up and in the blink of an eye, Steve is pressed back in to the furs.
Billy’s powerful body holds him down, weight braces on him so he can’t move a muscle, only if he really wants to. Steve grins up at him, delighting in the pretence.
Billy lets out a low growl, it rumbling like a lion’s deep in his chest. He nudges Steve’s cheek, prompts him to move his head to the side and licks at his skin again, the instinct to claim and force submission on Steve hard to ignore. Steve lets him manhandle him, body thrumming with the power of his blood, can still taste it on his tongue He’s wanton, needing more, wants all and everything Billy will give him. He wants the taste of his seed on his tongue, mixed with his blood, wants to fill his belly with both of his essences. It’s as if Billy can read his mind, grinds down on him, tongues at his mouth until Steve licks back, trying to kiss him again.
Billy leans back, drapes Steve’s legs around his hips, hands dragging down his chest, trailing over his nipples as he goes. Steve shivers, feeling it sent electricity to his cock. He looks own and sees it bobbing around between them, the head of Billy’s pressed against his base. He’s teasing him again, playing with him, feeling vulnerable after letting Steve feed and needs to take over, be the alpha again.
He shifts Steve’s hips, pulls them up until he’s braced on his back on the bed, he shuffles forward so Steve’s ass can rest against his chest, hand pushing his thighs apart and he bends his head, licks a wet stripe across his entrance.
Steve moans, shudders, feeling exposed. Billy’s mouth is relentless, tongues at him, sucks lightly at his balls before nipping up to the puckered ring of flesh. He licks at him, biting one ass cheek, then the other before spearing his tongue and pressing through. Steve sucks him in, ring tight around him and he shudders, feels that tongue press deeper and deeper, licking him from the inside out. His cock hangs near his face, the angle making it brush against his chest. He’s leaking at the tip, ready to burst, whining and twitching in Billy’s strong hold.
The wolf does not let up, fucks his tongue in and out of him, reaches around to press a finger in to Steve’s mouth. Steve sucks on it, glad of the distraction, swirling his tongue around the digit until he’s got it nice and wet. Another finger joins it and presses down on his tongue, pressing to the back of his throat. The tongue in his ass flattens out, stretches him as he pulls those fingers away and suddenly both of them are being pressed in to him.
The stretch is as pleasurable at the feeling of being filled. Billy’s sinks those fingers in to the hilt, licking around his ring as it tighten round them. He pulls them out, slowly stretching him then sinks them in again. Steve’s cock is twitching, pulsing when they curl and find that tender spot inside him.
“Please, please – fuck me already -”
He doesn’t care how needy he sounds. He knows it is what the alpha wants to hear, the whining, needy part of him that speaks to his instinct to claim, to mate, to breed.
Billy growls, releases Steve’s body, keeps his fingers in him as he lowers him back on to the bed. Steve looks down to his swollen cock, leaking and pulsing, a knot already forming at the base. He shivers, anticipation of having that length in him almost too much.
Billy hooks his legs over his shoulders and takes himself in hand, presses the blunt of his head against Steve’s hole. He presses in, breaching the ring then juts forward, sheathing himself to the hilt inside. Steve gasps, a loud shout of pain and pleasure escaping him. Billy’s hands hold his hips, planting his knees on the mattress and pulls out, slamming back in with just as much force. He hits Steve’s prostate, making the vampire see stars.
“Oh, fuck – oh, fuck, Billy”
He picks up a fast, relentless pace, Steve watches the gold bleed in to the blue until there is hardly any left. He could turn any minute, only his stubbornness keeping the looming full moon’s effects at bay. The headboard slams against the wall, the room is filled with the smell of sex and blood, Steve’s head spinning with it. Its thundering through Billy’s body, building with his thrusts.
He feels his orgasm approaching, feel Billy’s cock twitch and thicken inside him, pumping in and out frantically. His throat burns, his vision swoops, those gold eyes bore in to his and its all too much.
He moves his legs down from Billy’s shoulders, tugs the wolf by the back of his neck to plaster his body against his. He arches in to his chest, his pace uninterrupted as he fucks Steve in to the mattress. Steve licks at his neck, surges forwarded and sinks his teeth in.
His orgasm bursts though him, the blood flowing out, coating his tongue, sliding down his throat and he shudders, feels his orgasm fire though every cell. He paints his chest white, feels Billy shudder and groans, filling him up as he finds his own release, their pleasure becoming one.
He sags against Steve’s body, dead weight and allows Steve to take his fill. The vampire twitching and whimpering, drinking frantic from him, feeling the power and the pleasure shiver through his body. When he’s taken his fill, he sags back against the furs, sweat coated skin making it stick to him.
He’s got Billy’s blood on his tongue, around his mouth, trailing down his chin. He licks his lips eagerly, savouring very last droop. Billy breathes hard against his neck, arms holding him close. He pulls back and groans at the sight of Steve covered in his blood and his own come. He’s a fucked-up mess and it’s a sight for Billy’s sore eyes.
He presses a kiss to the vampire’s cool forehead and slumps down next to him, pulling himself out of his entrance, the smell of his come filling the room as it slips out of him. Steve shivers, feeling sated and lazy.
“You will be hungry again tomorrow.”
Steve grins, licking at his teeth.
“You want me to return for the full moon?”
Billy nods, trailing a finger through the cooling come on Steve’s chest, bringing it to his lips and licks it off. Steve whines at the sight.
“I’ll be at my most powerful then, you can feed from me again.”
Steve nods, eagerly accepting the offer. He rolls on top of the werewolf, trails fingers across the holes at his throat. Billy trails a hand across the expanse of his neck, eyes gazing longingly at the creamy skin. Steve knows he wants to bite him. He knows that Billy wants to mate him, to claim him like he was an omega and have him all to himself.
It can never be, he needs to be with his own, the both of them do. He can’t deny the pull that brings them together, they might not be able to be this way forever, but for now, just for a time each month, they can pretend.