Lar ||| Buffy & Angel

Domestic Scene Ten-A
Email: HERE
Pairing: Xander/Riley
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Not mine. Too damn bad, really.
Author's Note: written for rubywisp, for her email spam day. She said: Riley, Xander, water, orange, glass. I said this...

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Xander's clothes leave a trail from the front door to the bathroom. Orange safety vest flung casually over the back of the sofa, one boot and a sock lead to discarded jeans and *then* the other boot and sock. They're followed by a sweaty t-shirt on the doorknob that leaves Riley with a fairly interesting vision of the strip-off that occurred. The door's open and a few wisps of steam trickle out along with a horrifyingly out of tune rendition of "She Bangs."

Xander is a man of many talents, but the recording industry will not be seeking him out any time in the next century.

Riley pushes open the door soundlessly, tugging the tie loose from his neck and undoing the top button of his shirt with a shrug. His other hand reaches out for the handle of the toilet and he flushes, stepping back to reap the rewards of still being Stealth Guy, and quite possibly still being a mental twelve year old.

Doesn't take long. There's about a ten second delay before the cold water goes the way of all good things and Xander leaps out of the shower, soap in his hair and the shower curtain clinging to his ass as his feet skid on the tiles.

"You BASTARD." Xander attempts to draw his dignity around him along with the towel he snatches from Riley's hand, and fails when he has to rub a blob of soap from the end of his nose. "Laugh while you can, desk jockey."

Riley's still happily leaning against the sink, tie undone now and the rest of the buttons of his shirt open, sleeves pushed up as he watches Xander try and handle the towel, the shower curtain, and the soap issues. There's really only one reason to do that stupid trick with the hot water, and that's pretty much the part coming up right now.

He puts his hand on the back of Xander's neck, fingers sliding on wet skin to his shoulder, thumb rubbing absently over the collarbone and the hollow that holds a few drops of water still and a tiny bit of soap. Leans in and kisses the soft mouth that's currently holding a pout that makes Riley's cock achingly hard. His tongue touches Xander's, licks over the plump lower lip that's gone all pliant suddenly, and whisper-glance-touches the corner of Xander's mouth before he starts to move. Lets his free hand tug at the towel as he walks Xander backwards, out the open door of the bathroom and across the hall where the bed conveniently waits.

"I'm a bad man. Let me make it up to you," Riley murmurs as he pushes Xander's shoulders lightly, watching him fall to the bed in a sprawl of wet skin and long limbs that soak the sheets, still rumpled from the morning.

Riley leaves his own tangled pile of clothes at the foot of the bed, dry cleaning bill be damned.



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