Spike was flung onto the couch when he returned home. Xander pinned him to the cushions, tasting and marking him with teeth and tongue.

Impatient, Xander stripped them both and rolled Spike onto his stomach. Skin rubbed against skin. Groans mingled. Slick fingers probed and stretched, and Spike pushed back eagerly as he was filled with something wider, longer.

Bites across his back and a relentless rhythm on his cock catapulted him over the edge as Xander thrust and shouted his release. They collapsed, still joined.

"New sofa?" Spike peered at the fabric beneath his cheek.

"Yeah. This one's stain-proof."

~end~