Wolverine/Spike, flyby up-against-a-wall-alley sex, all snarls and a little blood and....
And oh. I could've gone on and on and on.
They never spoke a word. They met in the alley behind the bar and Logan wasn’t sure if it was going to be a fight or a fuck. He smelled like a vampire and when his eyes flashed gold in the dark, Logan was positive.
It was dark, but they both could see. When Logan’s head hit the bricks he tasted blood in his mouth. Sharp teeth flashed and Logan put one hand up to rest on the pale skin through a torn shirt.
He shook his head, held up his other fist. Three claws crawled slowly out, tiny drops of red trickled between his fingers. The demon nodded. Blonde hair looked white in the shadows, when his head rose again, there was a smirk where before death had smiled. Buttons popped on jeans and Logan’s hand slid down that marble chest to wrap fingers around the cock that was bared, thick and hard.
Turned, denim slid down to the middle of his thighs. Palms splayed against cement and clay and Logan saw the moon when his hips snapped back into the thrust that filled him and his eyes looked to the sliver of sky that was visible above them.