RP log - Xander and Willow
Who: Xander and Willow When: Backdated to Oct 23 Where: Willow's room What: Xander and Willow try out their Homecoming outfits and fall prey to some sort of clothes fluke
On the bright side, at least there hadn't been a sweeping moment of awkward silence yet, and... that was good wasn't it? It was progress. Here he was in Willow's room. With Willow. Alone with Willow. Again. And so far the Harris composure hadn't slipped in the slightest. As well it shouldn't because, as Xander reflected, there was a significant other in the equation on his end and on Willow's -- and while math might not have been his greatest subject, it didn't take much to know that the only thing that Xander Harris plus Willow Rosenberg equaled was friendship. A stick-together-best-buds friendship that had no romantic inclinations whatsoever. Yep. That was it.
Xander flipped down the sleeves of his dress shirt, buttoning the cuffs one at a time now that he'd gotten the front buttons straightened out after a slight misalignment (that was incidentally brought about by focusing not so much on fastening, but more on the nature of the previously mentioned stick-together-best-buds-friendship-y things). A quick check in the mirror proved that everything was in order, and crisis no. 1 in formal wear was officially over. "For I am Xander, conqueror of the dress shirt. I scoff at multiple buttons!" He looked down. "Oh hey, missed another," he added in a somewhat amused tone, fixing it and taking a quick glance at the screen behind which Willow was fighting her own battle with homecoming attire to make sure he hadn't missed her stepping out.
She hadn't, because she was still fretting over her clothing choices. Willow really, really wanted to impress Oz tonight - she wanted him to look at her with that warm, pleased way that he always did whenever she made him happy, only moreso. And for that, she needed something that would make him go "Oh." But the problem was, clothes that made guys go "oh" were clothes that Willow would never in a million years dare to even try on, let alone wear, and all her options so far had only earned a lacklustre "nice" from Xander. After a moment, she finally went for the floral, knee-length dress that she'd thought was absolutely adorable when she'd seen it on the store rack a few years ago.
Once that was on, she stepped out. "How's this?" she asked anxiously.
Xander looked up, freezing mid-way through tucking his shirt in, with brows raised expectantly. 'Adorable' actually wasn't the word that crossed his mind, but in guy terms he'd found the rough equivalent; after a second's thought he nodded and -- same as the last -- offered an encouraging "Nice, Will.' complete with smile and rounded shrug. Right, see, it was possible. He could be alone with her and not feel his palms going all sweaty or any need to throw open a window for some cool air -- and he could focus on other things. Like how to tie a bowtie as was the current case. With the last stray material of his shirt neatly tucked, he reached for the black band, looping it around his neck.
Willow's face fell. Obviously this wasn't an 'oh' kind of dress. Not that she wanted Xander to go 'oh'; it was just that he was a guy, and he'd have a guy sense of what was oh-worthy. But then she started thinking along the lines that he was a guy, and he was in her room, and they were alone, and she decided that she'd better scoot back behind that screen.
"So who do you think will win the homecoming queen crown?" she asked as she reached for her last option, a long elegant black dress that made her feel self-consciously grown up whenever she'd tried it on.
"Weeeeell, I'm actually thinkin' I'm going to do the patriotic thing here and kiss my vote good-bye. So..." Xander paused, focus momentarily fixed on his bowtie, which was doing its best to not hold any sort of bowtie-shaped shape. He attempted knotting it, and finally resigning that it could wait until last if it wanted to be such a jerk, he snagged his vest with gratitude for clothing items whose utmost complexity were three buttons. "Completely bench watchers perspective? I kinda think Cord's got it. I mean, rots o' ruck to Buffster and all, but --" One arm reached for his blazer, easily pulling it up from the lapels and straightening it out. "Not sure the cupcake-vote's gonna do it," he finished, leaning back against Willow's dresser and pulling a face at the hanging ends of his tie in his hands. There was definitely a trick to this.
Meanwhile, Willow was struggling with the zipper on her dress. She wasn't used to dresses that were form-fitting and unelastic enough to require zippers, so the whole concept of bending back and twisting into a pretzel was a little foreign to her. "Poor Buffy," she said guiltily, remembering how she'd gone over to the Cordelia campaign. And she didn't even like Cordelia! "I feel like we're bad friends for not helping her. Do you think we're bad friends?"
Xander's brow wrinkled, partly owed to the mind twister that was formal neck wear, but mostly to Willow's question. "'Course not! We're..." He turned over a few visuals mentally, idly weaving his fingers through the tie and undoing whatever work he had accomplished. "Friends in places with rocks and hard things. Possibly a few hellfire pi -- No, no... actually we're the rope in a tug-of-war only it's not about who's stronger and..."
"And oh God we are such bad friends," he finally finished, slouching heavily back on the dresser now.
She was afraid he'd say that. "Maybe we can make it up to her," Willow suggested. Finally managing to snag the erstwhile zipper, she tugged it up into place and adjusted the thin straps of her dress before stepping out yet again. "Is this oka--oh."
"Right, right. Like with balloons, a sentimental card, and some flo --" It could've been that he'd noticed his words rambling over hers that stopped Xander short, cutting him off the exact moment Willow had and leaving a mutual silence that wasn't quite that same awkward sort they'd shared once before in her room. Of course that was when he first realized what an amazing woman he'd been in the company of all these years; now it just seemed a known fact. He hoisted himself up quickly, a somewhat off-kilter grin settling on his face. "Hey. Look at you."
With a self-conscious smile, Willow nervously smoothed down the front of her dress. "Is it okay?" she asked, because she wasn't entirely sure what his reaction meant. In any case, she was too busy staring at him to try to figure it out anyway. She'd always known that Xander was cute, but how did he suddenly become so dashing?
"Yeah, it's..." Part of that self-consciousness must've been catching because he found himself eyeing his undone bowtie while searching for the right word. "Actually I think we could rank it at gorgeous," he finally replied, modestly grinning over at her once more and taking a few steps away from the far edge of the room where he'd been standing. "I mean... wow. Oz is a lucky guy."
"So are you," Willow said a little shyly. Unlike him, who was looking down, she couldn't take her eyes off him. Then, belatedly, her words hit her and she hurried to correct herself. "I mean, you're gorgeous too -- y-you know, in a guy way. Cordelia's lucky too. In a girl way." The more she talked the more she seemed to simply babble, so she caught herself and tried to focus on another topic. Which brought up another fear. "I don't know if I can dance in this," she suddenly said, worried.
Xander couldn't help but grin. Willow always had that adorable way of doubling back on her words, and he supposed he'd been in the same club of people whose mouths tended to run off without letting the brain catch up, too -- just one of those things that probably came with growing up together and having a best friend who didn't mind the habit. Besides, if there was anyone he could tell anything to? It was Willow. The words usually just came out without any real decision to say them.
By then, though, Xander had succeeding in lifting his gaze up to meet hers, and damned if it was going to wander off again. "Won't know until you give it a try, right? Here --" He crossed the last few paces that separated them, taking a deep breath as he did and trying to mask it with his movements. As he reached her, he was holding out a hand for her to take. "Give it a whirl. Betcha there's nothing to worry about, Will."
That was right - as long as he was there she shouldn't have to worry about anything. Xander was her best friend, her stalwart companion. She had nothing to fear from him, and she knew that he'd protect her.
Why, then, did her heartbeat suddenly pick up and her breathing got all hitched? There was no reason for her to be afraid. And to prove it, she lightly touched her hand to his and slid her fingers between his, aware of every groove in his palm and the warm of his skin. "Okay," she whispered, staring up at him.
"Yeah, just... like this..." It was a wonder even those few words came out sounding as smooth as they did. Whatever the feel of Willow's hand in his was doing, it was sending half the nerves in his body into overload; not really in a panicking sort of way, but a very, very alert way. As if he couldn't sense anything else in the room than Willow as he drew her closer and moved himself into the right position for a slow waltz. He gave his fingers a small readjustment, settling them comfortably around hers while guiding the first sway of the the impromptu dance. "There. That's uhm..."
"...yeah," Willow murmured. She couldn't stop looking at him, but even with her gaze caught in his, she was hyper aware of hand in hers and his shoulder under his tux jacket, where she'd put her other hand. All of a sudden, her much-prided intellect suddenly vanished, and she was only left with unfinished thoughts and words. "It's very...yeah."
Having fallen into the rhythm of the simple steps, words had just about vanished from Xander's mind. What could he have said, anyway? 'Willow, I think I want to kiss you'? Or maybe 'Willow, I think I'm going to kiss you'? He was already leaning in, his face just inches from hers and still closing up the space left by the differences in their height. The truth was that for once in Xander's life, he didn't need any words; he only needed a signal back that whatever was happening wasn't just happening to him -- a signal he was waiting on as he risked vanishing another small distance between them.
It couldn't possibly be just happening to him, because there was Willow, leaning up ever so slightly towards him, and then again, until her lips were a mere breath's away from his. In that moment, she wasn't thinking about the fact that she had a boyfriend and he a girlfriend, or about the fact that she'd been pretty much in love with him for as long as she could remember now. All she could think about was this moment, and just how much she wanted to feel his lips against hers. And with just a little lift of her weight onto her toes, she did.
The second contact was made, Xander had thoughtlessly extended both arms, ultimately letting them find a natural placement around Willow's waist. Gone entirely was Cordelia's existence from his conscious thought as he eased into the kiss, pacing it slow enough to make sure it lasted. He'd closed his eyes when they met in the embrace, but something was urging him to reopen them...
And when he did, there was Willow -- which, despite all the lead-up to the kiss and wanting nothing more than it, was actually enough to send a jolt of panic through his system on the note of 'Holy CRAP.'
As soon as he stiffened up in panic, so did Willow. Her eyes flew open, and the delicious languor that'd suffused her entire body when he'd leaned in to kiss her was immediately replaced shame and guilt. She was kissing someone else's boyfriend! When she had a boyfriend of her own! She was evil! Awful! A scarlet woman! She leapt back from him. "I'm so sorry!" she blurted.
Xander jumped back as well, and on the same beat that Willow had, which doubled the gap between them in mere seconds. "No!" he quickly told her, waving his hands out apologetically in front of him. "No, not your fault! I mean... We didn't just -- because I-I've a girlfriend! And you and Oz and..." The drain of color from his face was starting to reverse, red creeping downward from his ears as is someone had upended a bucket over his head. His eyes darted around, trying to find some sort of scapegoat for making that kind of move on her. He eventually found himself staring blankly at her dress. "The clothes. It's gotta be the clothes, right?" The words were marked with desperation, almost pleading her to back him up on this.
"The clothes! It was a complete clothes-fluke!" Willow agreed wildly, because he was right, of course. Without the tux, he'd still be just Xander, who had a girlfriend and was her best friend and certainly not the debonair, dangerous, exciting, Bond-like man he was now, and she wouldn't be swaying closer to him again, her eyes already closing in anticipation of his skillful kiss...
"Nnngh!" Xander exclaimed, realizing midway to another kiss just what he was doing -- what she was doing to him, with those inviting lips and that dress and those wiley womanly charms... "We have to get out of these clothes," he frantically added as he edged back again, not even recalling how he'd gotten so close to her without knowingly placing himself there.
"Right away!" Willow gasped, upon realising that the fluke had almost happened a second time. And then, realising how his words could have been mistrued, she hurried to correct any wrongful impression they might have left. "I mean -- not in that way! You know what I mean!"
"I didn't mean that, either!" Oh, geeze. Gaping wide hole of awkwardness and falling in it, much? Taking a moment to remember how to breathe again, Xander summoned up enough composure to send Willow a mixed look, with his face apparently unable to decide if it wanted to smile or try out something more guilty. "Uh... so is this the 'oh my God whatta we do now' part?"
"I...I guess?" Willow said, still bewildered over her highly, highly illogical reaction to seeing Xander in a tux. It was just that he looked so good, and she hadn't known what a good kisser he could be, and... "Oh my god, what do we do now?"
Xander found himself looking intently at the covers of Willow's bed. "Uh." No answers there; no dice at all. He shifted to looking at her feet. "Er." Somehow one-syllable sounds didn't seem to be helping any, and so he resolved to a wide shrug, pocketing both hands, and doing his best to attempt a smile of solace for her.
It might've been a few odd seconds of silence before he suddenly started, snapping the fingers of one hand after fumbling to get it back out of its pocket. "Oh! I know... we'll look away from each other and count backwards from ten, right? And on one, we'll both just... well, we'll..." With the momentum of his words all fizzed out, he withdrew a bit again, brow furrowed. "Y'know, I did have a plan when I started."
Willow, who'd looked at him eagerly as he detailed his brilliant plan, felt her face fall upon realising that he didn't, in fact, have a brilliant plan. "Oh," she said, disappointed. "Maybe we could...pretend it never happened," she suggested. She liked that idea. When in doubt, hide and wait until the problem went away.
"Will, you are a genius," Xander returned, about to round in for one of the usual side-hugs, but thinking better of it and instead tossing up a salute. Easy. Just forget it. Maybe it would be like that one time he begged his parents to let him ride Boris the party donkey at the local petting zoo: hop on, realize it wasn't all it was cracked up to be, and wind up hobbling away after getting bitten in the shin. Only there wasn't any riding Willow and she wasn't biting and -- and on a second thought that was probably the worst comparison in the world ever. Even aside from those two points, kissing her was just... wow. He sighed, caught up in a replay of the moment they met in an embrace, as his focus went hazy and his legs melted happily beneath... "Aaagh!" It was all he could do to retain some bearings over himself by slapping a hand over his eyes. "No, I can do this. I can do this."
"Yes! Yes, you can!" Willow said, as if by encouraging him she could convince herself of the same. "I-it'll be easy, right? 'cause you have a girlfriend, and I have a boyfriend, and there's no need for us to be all passionate and-and kissy and adorable, like what you're doing now with your hand and..." Realising that she was leaning closer once again, Willow caught herself and jumped back once more. "Right!" she declared in a loud squeak. "Forgetting it ever happened!"
Xander allowed his hand to drop, though his eyes were locked at the level of Willow's knees. "Yes! A girlfriend! And her name is..." Oh, c'mon, you know this! "Cordelia." Hah, there! "And I love her, and I would... never... is it hot in here?" He wedged a finger into his collar, tugging at it for emphasis. "'How 'bout opening a window? Or.. or uh... I should maybe go now. 'Cause..." He knitted his fingers together, extending them outward as if there was a perfectly valid reason to finish with. "Of the heat." Points for effort if nothing else.
Willow nodded emphatically, because somehow it all made sense to her. Xander always made sense to her, even when he wasn't making sense, which just made him all the more endear-- no, had to stop that. She was forgetting about the fluke. Really. "Yeah, maybe. I mean, not because I want you to go, but. Yeah. The heat! Very hot, I'd better take this off I mean not like that I'll see you tomorrow!"
"Exactly! I don't want to go, but the..." Xander swallowed, then waved vaguely in the first direction his hands felt like waving in. "Anyway! I'll see ya soon, Will. Tomorrow, right? And Oz. Tomorrow. When I'm with Cordy." As he spoke, he was backing up, navigating toward the door and reaching it on the note of 'dy.' There was a complete pause at the door, and for the moment he thought he might change his mind about leaving, but he managed to yank himself through the opening with a feeble farewell wave before finally going.
...At which point he recalled leaving his backpack behind, and so crept back in to snag it, tripped over his own feet, and retreated out with whatever scrap of dignity might've survived.
Which Willow thought was completely adorable. Everything he did was completely adorable, as far as Willow was concerned, and she really needed to stop thinking along those lines, because Oz was also completely adorable and she loved Oz's adorability more than Xander's. Still, that didn't stop her from watching out her window has he disappeared down the street, nor think about him long into the night.