"Let's see what came in the mail today, shall we?"
Spike held up a handful. "Oh! Look. What a surprise. It's a
"Where's it from?" Xander rolled over on the couch, peering at Spike around the arm, patch askew after his nap.
Spike crouched down, straightening it and planting a kiss on Xander's forehead before whirling and plunking himself down on the scant few inches of couch Xander wasn't occupying. "Why don't we see then?" With a rustle and shake, he unfolded it, grunting when Xander turned onto his side and pulled Spike's hips back into the soft warmth of his stomach. "Back home.
Spike nudged back into the sleep-warm hardness prodding him in the spine. "Always something good for a motivated bloke to find."
Xander let a hand casually drop onto Spike's thigh. "Uh huh. Know what'd be quicker?" The hand crept higher.
"Really innovative idea."
"Who taught you to talk American Corp-speak in the bed room?"
"This is the living room, Spike." Xander's hand slid all the way up, thumb tracing the line of Spike's zipper.
"Right. So let's hear this innovative idea you've got," Spike said, a little breathless, spreading his legs, cause hey, you don't survive a healthy and happy century plus by passing up the hand jobs.
"We fuck first and then read the newspaper."
Newsprint fluttered to the floor, and Xander found himself blanketed in vampire. "Embrace innovation, that's what I always say."
"I thought you always said-ngghh ahh! Do that again!"
"Yeah, that too."