"Want one?"

"If you're sure you don't mind."

"Nah. Would have been thrown out anyway."

William tried to smile. "Can't have that." Truthfully, his belly was tight and cramping with hunger, and he ignored the way his hands shook as he tried to fish out one french fry without touching the others, excruciatingly conscious that his hands were unclean.

"Gonna eat or play pick up sticks?"

William felt himself blush as he took a french fry and ate slowly. Bitter experience had taught him that as badly as he wanted to cram food into his mouth until the emptiness in his stomach went away, eating too fast would only mean that it would come back up, leaving him weak and ill with the sour taste of vomit in his mouth for hours.

Besides, it was nice sitting here with Xander, the exhaust vent melting the snow around them, warming William's fingers until they tingled. He didn't mind taking his time to eat if it meant that Xander would keep him company. "Are you sure you don't mind? It is your lunch..."

"I worked breakfast shift too. I had an egg muffin thing this morning."

William's stomach gave another alarming growl, and he bit his lip. Eggs sounded wonderful and it'd been so long, or maybe it was only a week since he and Spike had gone to that little diner for breakfast, but he couldn't ask Xander for-

"You should come by tomorrow morning. They let me take whatever's under the warmer after the breakfast hours end," Xander said casually. "Coffee too."

William moaned before he could stop himself. It was so wrong, so pitiful and embarrassing he felt tears prick at his eyes and that was even worse, and then Xander was pulling him against his warm, broad, solid chest, heedless of the grime William knew had to be in his hair, on his skin, and let him weep.

"I wish you'd let me do more."

Xander spoke so softly, William thought that surely, he hadn't been meant to hear, but when he lifted his face, Xander's was down-turned, serious, gentle, and so close- and oh, his lips were warm and salty still from the fries, sweet from his soda, and-

William turned his head away abruptly.

"Shit, Will, I'm sorry, I-"

William shook his head. "I- I haven't brushed my teeth." In weeks. He wished his heart wasn't pounding so hard against his ribs, knew Xander could feel it through the polyester polo shirt of his uniform, and wished it would all go away. The cold, the hunger, the grime - and the shame.

"That's okay, I-"

He pushed away from Xander, stumbled back into the snow away from the exhaust vent, the cold enveloping him again immediately and completely as he wrapped his arms around himself, shivering. "I have to go."

Xander's voice stopped him. "Breakfast tomorrow?"

William's stomach cramped around too few of the salt-greasy french fries, and too many. *Traitor.* He nodded, but hurried away.