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William sat bolt upright in bed when the screeching of the smoke alarm started. Crashes and clangs had been emerging from the kitchen for a while, interspersed with muffled curses. He had stayed put, despite his curiosity. Now, though, he slid out of bed and into a pair of jeans.

He emerged from the bedroom to see Buffy frantically waving a dishtowel beneath the smoke alarm, attempting to disperse the cloud of smoke that had filled the hallway.

She was wearing nothing but his t-shirt – her typical just-rolled-out-of-bed wear – and her hair was pulled into a messy bun on top of her head. William walked up behind her and slipped his arms around her waist.

“Oh!” she said in surprise. “You’re supposed to be sleeping!” She turned on him with a scowl on her full lips.

William laughed and kissed her. “You think I can sleep through you burning my house down?”

Buffy pouted. “It’s a very little fire,” she joked. She flapped the towel at the smoke alarm again. “Can you shut this thing up?”

William nodded and reached up to remove the batteries from the device. They both sighed in relief at the ensuing silence. Buffy hurried back into the kitchen, and William trailed in behind her, more than a little worried about what he would find.

It wasn’t as bad as he feared following the cookie incident the week before. Eggshells and crumbs were scattered across the cupboard, but the rest of the kitchen was tidy, at least by Buffy standards. A pan of scrambled eggs steamed on the stove, looking surprisingly well cooked. A pile of toast warmed on a plate at the back of the stove, and William spied a bowl of apple and orange slices on the cupboard next to the refrigerator. The source of the smoke was a pan of blackened bacon currently taking up residence in the sink. Buffy was spraying the pan down with water; she had opened the back door wide to air out the room.

“What’re you up to in here, pet?” William asked. He strolled across the room to pour himself a cup of the freshly brewed coffee.

Buffy turned to him with a small smile on her face. “I was making you breakfast, duh! It’s your first day of school, thought I should send you off with a full tummy.” She ran one hand across his bare abdomen and grinned when his muscles tensed under her touch.

William set his coffee mug down and took her in his arms. He dropped a kiss on her forehead. “Mornin’, sunshine,” he purred. “My thoughtful girl. Breakfast looks delectable. Don’ like bacon, anyway.” He smiled down at her anxious face.

Buffy skipped out of his arms and loaded up a plate with eggs, toast, and fruit. She led him to the table and watched him eagerly as he began eating. He took a bite of eggs and managed to keep his expression neutral as he swallowed.

“Very… flavorful,” he said. Buffy narrowed her eyes and snatched the fork out of his hand before he could stop her.

“Oh my god, what did I do?” she said, looking at him in horror.

“’S not that bad, sweetness,” he assured her. “But... did you put vanilla in the eggs?”

Buffy shook her head. “I’m not a good cook, Will, but I’m not stupid! It’s just eggs and cheese and milk.”

“Uh, kitten, the only milk I have is vanilla soymilk.” William laughed at her vexed expression. “I appreciate the thought, love. Can’t tell you the last time anyone’s cooked for me.”

Buffy jumped up and retrieved a small paper bag from the counter. “I made you lunch, too!” she announced proudly.

William took in the offering with a wary eye. “Thanks.”

Buffy caught his tone. “It’s PB&J,” she huffed. “Kinda hard for even me to screw up. Trust me, your inner twelve year old will love it.”

William pulled Buffy down onto his lap and slid one hand up her leg beneath the hem of her shirt. His fingers teased her as he nuzzled into her neck, nibbling gently at her earlobe. She hummed and turned so she was straddling his legs. William pushed her shirt over her head and buried his nose in her armpit. Buffy jumped and tried to get away.

"Ew, William, I haven't showered yet!" she protested.

He grinned at her. "Like the way you smell when we've been shaggin' all night long." He gave her armpit a little lick, delighted at the way she wriggled against him. "Eau de Buffy," he said. "Sex an' sweat an'... hmm, is that my spunk, all the way up here?"

"Okay, ick, and also: that's what happens when you… when you…”

He quirked an eyebrow at her hesitance. "When I come all over your luscious little titties? That what you can't quite say?" Buffy's blush answered his question. He ran a gentle thumb over each perky nipple, gaining another full-body wriggle for his troubles. "Weren't so bashful ‘bout it last night," he reminded her.

She rolled her eyes at him. "You are such a pig sometimes."

"You love it, and you know it."

"Okay, I love it, now will you please get your face out of there? It tickles!"

William moved his mouth to her breasts in answer. "Mmm, so tasty," he murmured. "Could just have you for breakfast."

Without waiting for a response, William lifted her onto the table, quickly shoving his breakfast dishes out of the way, and dove in headfirst. All-you-can-eat Buffy buffet, was his last coherent thought. He licked and bit at her delicious quim until she was squirming and babbling his name amidst incoherent words of pleasure. Her hands grabbed two stinging fistfuls of hair and tugged, hard. “Need you,” she panted. “Need you in me now, Will, please.”

William grinned and licked his smeary lips as the buttons of his fly popped open. He pushed his jeans past his hips, yanked Buffy into his arms, and slammed her up against the refrigerator. She slid onto his aching cock with a low, satisfied moan.

“Oh, god, Buffy,” William groaned. He captured her lips with his as he thrust slowly into her. Their tongues battled as their bodies spiraled out of control. Buffy pulled away from his mouth and sank her teeth into his neck. He came with a roar at the same time he felt her inner muscles fluttering around him.

“Oh, god, Buffy,” he repeated. "God, I love you!"

It was very quiet after that. All William could hear was the echo of his words. He met Buffy's eyes.

"What did... did you just...?" she stammered.

William was helpless to do anything but nod.

"Oh."

William nodded again. Can stop playin' mute anytime, you bloody stupid twonk, his inner voice chided him.

Buffy wiggled. "Down, please? Kinda got a door handle in a not-comfy spot."

William blinked at her, nodded one more time for good measure – fuckin' bobble-head, that voice interjected –and set her gently on her feet. When she was standing in front of him, an inscrutable expression on her face, he finally managed to find his voice. "I'm sorry, I din't mean..."

"Don't worry about it," Buffy interrupted. Her voice was chipper. "People say all sorts of things when they're, um, getting a happy. You don't have to explain."

He grasped her chin in his hand and forced her to look at him. "I wasn't explaining it away, pet," he said firmly. "I was gonna say, I din't mean to say that to you when I was fuckin' you up against a major appliance."

Buffy giggled. "Oh." Then her eyes got big and round and scared. "Oh!”

"Yeah, 'oh'," William said solemnly. He released his grip on her chin and let his hands wander across her bare back. "I mean it, Buffy," he whispered. "I love you."

She melted into his arms for a second. "Okay," she whispered back. Then she was stepping out of his embrace. She retrieved her t-shirt and slipped it on before turning to the sink and filling it with hot, soapy water.

William watched her for the space of a minute. Okay? his brain raged. Okay? OKAY?

"Okay?!" he hollered, once his mouth had caught up to his brain.

Buffy flinched.

"Ah hell, I'm sorry, pet," William said. "I'm a complete berk."

"Does that mean you're a big stupid meanie?" Buffy shot back. "Cause if it does, I totally agree with you."

"Yeah, that's exactly what it means," William said desperately. "I'm gonna... I need to get ready for work. Before I say anything else stupid."

Buffy nodded, not quite meeting his eyes. He backed out of the kitchen and went mechanically through the routine of shower, shave, and dress. The whole time, those four words kept cycling themselves through his mind.

“I love you.”

“Okay.”

***

William was just pulling a blazer on over a plain black t-shirt when Buffy entered the bedroom. He turned to her as she gathered up her clothes. "How do I look, pet?" he asked, making sure to keep his voice calm.

Buffy turned a critical eye on him. "You look like an easy A."

"C’mon, really.”

She grinned. "Really. Sorry, t-shirt and jeans screams ‘I want you to think I’m the cool young professor, so everyone's getting an A.'" She strode across the room and pushed the jacket off his shoulders before tugging the shirt out of his jeans. Her voice got husky and she dropped him a wink. "Strip off for me, Professor Pratt, and I'll fix you up right.”

William swallowed and, as ever when it came to Buffy, did as he was told.

Buffy rummaged through his closet for a few minutes before emerging with black dress pants, a black chambray shirt, and a dark gray jacket. She glanced at him, standing by the bed naked but for his socks, shook her head, and moved to the dresser, where she retrieved one of his three pairs of boxer-briefs. "Rule one for college professors: please wear underwear," she lectured him.

William stifled a groan as he complied. He drew the line, however, when she started making noises about a tie. "No bloody way," he grumbled. "Can't fuckin' breathe in those things."

Buffy laughed at him, held his jacket for him to shrug into, and then led him into the bathroom. She sat him down on the toilet seat and proceeded to mess with his hair till he thought he'd go mad. Just as he reached the end of his patience, she placed one hand on either side of his face. Her eyes were very serious.

"I'm sorry for how I reacted earlier," she said quietly. "I... I know that's not what you wanted to hear from me."

"Buffy, I didn't say it to get a canned response," William said. He took her hands in his and drew her down onto his lap. "You don't have to feel guilty for not telling your idiot boyfriend you love him a month after you met."

"More like a month and a half," Buffy murmured. She met his surprised eyes. "Not that I'm keeping track," she said quickly.

"'Course not," William agreed stoutly. He kissed her lightly and nudged her off his lap. "Certainly hope you're done playing dress up, pet, cause I have got to go," he said, glancing at the time.

Buffy eyed him up and down, pursed her lips, made one last adjustment to his hair, and pronounced him done.

"You'll be here when I get home, yeah?" William asked.

Buffy smiled enigmatically and nodded. He strode out the door after one last kiss. He was opening his car door when Buffy called his name from the front porch.

"You forgot your lunch!" she scolded him.

William sauntered up the steps, savoring the sight of her long bare legs beneath his Ramones’ tee and her just-been-fucked hair. He took the brown paper sack from her, stroking one long finger along her wrist as he did. "Thanks.” He eyed her up and down, casually smirking at the blush the suffused her skin. “C’mere, kitten, I wanna tell you something.” She leaned into him and he planted his lips against her ear. “Love, you’ve got egg in your hair.”

William couldn’t erase the goofy grin from his face, even as he called his first class of the day to order.





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