His fingers clutching lean hips, Spike thrust deeply one final time as the first orgasm in far too long swept through him. His groan of satisfaction was answered by a similar sound of release from the body beneath him, but he was too dazed to do more than collapse onto the broad, sweat-covered back and let the world spin around him.

After a few moments, Gunn stirred and tried to lift himself from where he was plastered across the desk.

"Not that I'm really conscious enough to care, but breathing might be nice," he said.

"Sorry." Spike carefully disentangled himself, hiked up his jeans, and collapsed into Gunn's big leather chair. "Bloody hell, I needed that. Sounds like you did too, mate."

Gunn rested his forehead against the blotter and laughed raggedly.

"Man, you have no idea." He pushed himself upright and began to set his clothing to rights. "I thought fighting vamps on the streets was a high-tension gig, but it's nothing compared with being a lawyer in this place. Plus, I'm too damn busy to date."

"You try being incorporeal. It's all well and good being able to pop in on people in compromising positions until you realize that you can't have a nice wank about it afterwards," Spike said, leaning over to pick up his duster. He fumbled through the pockets until he found a pack of cigarettes, and he pulled one out with relish.

"You know, California law prohibits smoking in the workplace," Gunn said, leaning his hip against his desk and fastening the cuffs of his rumpled dress shirt.

Spike raised an eyebrow as he lit the cigarette and took a deep drag.

"Guess you don't really care, huh?" Gunn asked.

"Never been much for rules." Spike held out the pack. "Want one?"

"I'll pass." Frowning at the sticky liquid soaking into his blotter, he grabbed a couple of tissues and tried to wipe off the mess.

"Should've used someone else's office," Spike said, using his foot to nudge the trash can toward Gunn.

"Yeah, because what I really need is the rest of the firm comparing me to Harmony."

"You've got nothing to worry about. There's no competition... though Harm is a cheaper date. Doesn't take more wooing than a couple of compliments and a grin. Don't always even need the grin."

"And you wooed me? 'Cause I sure don't remember any wooing. I remember going to the bar with you, having a couple of beers, coming back here to get some work done, and you sticking your tongue down my throat."

"I did woo you! Bought the beer, didn't I? Yeah, it was with Angel's money, but it's the thought that counts. And you didn't seem to mind my tongue in your throat. Or my cock in your ass, for that matter."

"Not saying I did mind. Just keeping the record straight," Gunn said with a smile.

"All right then." Spike settled back in the chair and took another drag of his cigarette.

"But maybe next time I'll do the buying... and the other stuff. You know, just to be fair."

"That right? 'Cause I could go for another pint, myself." He rolled his shoulders. "And I'm still a bit tense."

Gunn returned Spike's grin.

"Sounds like we've got ourselves a plan."

~end~