"Xander?" William stopped pacing the moment Xander entered the basement, though his hands continued their nervous knitting together.

"Yeah?"

"I-" How could he say what he wanted? How could he begin? It had all seemed so very easy when he was letting Dawn, that wisp of a girl, drag him from store to store in the mall. Mall! Said so casually. He'd known towns that were smaller than that monstrosity, and less populous as well. But all had insisted that it was wise for William to become accustomed to this new world, this new time. And she had asked so prettily for his company with such large eyes, that-

William caught himself with a start, realizing that Xander was looking at him with concern, and flushed. Why had he let Dawn talk him into this? For god's sake, she was only thirteen! She shouldn't have had thoughts like that, much less thoughts about two men and-

Xander frowned, dropping his uniform's bow tie into the orange lounger and taking William around the waist, trying to see into his eyes, but all he could see was the fiery blush along his cheekbones. "Something wrong?"

"No. God, no. I just. Wanted."

"Hey, anything. I'm easy to ask guy, remember? Did something happen at the mall with Dawn? You guys get into trouble?" Xander's hands were so large and warm stroking up and down his waist through the fabric of his shirt, making William shiver.

William licked his lips, feeling every inch the Victorian out of time, and eased his breath out carefully, his voice coming with it, very small, very proper, and god, how his ears flared with a blush at the words coming from him. "I- I want you to take your shirt off and lie on the bed. Face down," he clarified. "Please," he added, darting a quick look at Xander though his heart was beating so hard he felt as if he might need to sit down.

Quickly.

"Is that all? Sure." And then the shirt was gone, and William felt his mouth go dry at the easy, casual nudity before him, half raising a shaking hand, hardly able to believe his daring when it lay on the center of Xander's chest. "You ready for more? Is that it?" Xander's voice was quiet, gentle as if he didn't want to startle a wild animal.

Which William supposed he very nearly was the way his heart was beating. Was he ready? No. But did he want? Oh god, yes. "Lie down on the bed," he whispered, not sure what he'd do if Xander made him explain. Run, possibly. Faint, probably. Make a fool out of himself most certainly. How could Xander be so casual with something that left William's gentleman heart pounding with nerves at the impropriety of it all?

But Xander's lips had been so warm, his kisses so gentle.

And Xander's hand- William's blush spread until he felt as if his face was burning. His hand had done things William had only dared to imagine on the darkest of nights and the most private of settings. He wanted...he wanted to give something back.

Not that, not yet. Not when the mere thought left him caught between panic and numbing desire. But something. "Lie down. Please," he whispered, and closed his eyes when he felt Xander's lips brush over his own, not daring to open them until he heard the springs of the couch creak under Xander's weight.

"This okay?"

"God," William said, unable to take his eyes off of that broad expanse of back. "More than."

"You wanna tell me what all of this is about?"

William ducked his head, cursing the words that abandoned him when he needed them most, and shook his head, grabbing the small bag that had been his sole purchase on the outing with Dawn and carrying it to the bed, kneeling on the very edge. "I want to- Can I-" He jumped, dropping the bag on the mattress at Xander's touch on his knee, and found himself looking into warm brown eyes.

"You can do anything."

With a tight nod, William snatched up the bag, pulling out a small bottle and uncapping it to the mellow green scent, calming scent, of cucumber oil. Dawn had insisted it had soothing properties, relaxing. And Xander was always so tense when he came home from work. Oil splattered across Xander's back as William's hands fumbled with the bottle and cap, only just managing to get them back together before making an utter mess of the bed. He placed his hands on Xander's back, and simply stared.

Pale English against tanned Californian skin, gleaming with oil.

That left William feeling anything but calm.

"S' nice," Xander mumbled into the pillow as William's hands smoothed the sweet-smelling oil over his skin, palms itching, tingling with every muscle he felt unlock beneath his touch. Touch that would have been unthinkable a month, and a hundred and twenty years before.

It was...nice. It was a start as the oil's soothing scent finally began to work its magic on William as well.