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“Uh, you don’t–you don’t have to,” Will stuttered out.

“If I want to,” Itori said. “What should I do to please you?”

The back of Will’s neck itched with heat. “I don’t–uh, have a lot of experience, so whatever is good?”

God, he sounded stupid.

Itori’s eyes roved over his face, like he was trying to decipher him. “You do not have lovers?”

“No,” Will said honestly.

That clearly confused him. His face did something, scrunching up. “But you are beautiful. Your hair is the sun.”

Will laughed, a nervous thing that got out of his mouth before he could stop it.

Itori’s hand that had been reaching for his hair, stopped.

“What does that sound mean?” He asked. “It is laughter, but not?”

Will could lie. He could cover his own embarrassment with some half-truth, and he knew Itori would believe him. He didn’t know any better.

Which was exactly why Will didn’t want to lie. What would be the point?

“No one has ever called me beautiful,” Will admitted. “It makes me… uncomfortable. It was uncomfortable laughter.”

“Uncomfortable?” Itori said the word like he was feeling it out. “You are afraid? Hurt?”

Will was going to have to be clearer before they ended up in even murkier waters.

“If a human said what you said to me, they would be lying,” Will said. “They would say it as a cruel joke.”

“That makes no sense,” Itori said.

“I know,” Will said, and there was a lump in his throat again.

“I am meaning you are like the willow tree in sunlight. Bright, dappled in shadow.” His fingers traced some of the freckles on Will’s shoulder. “Sweet and beautiful.”

Will sucked in a shaky breath. “Oh,” he said, because he didn’t know what else to say.

The claws moved from his hair down the nape of his neck, and Will shivered.

“Cold?” Itori asked.

“No, sensitive,” Will said.

The claws slid down to touch the fabric of his shirt, where they paused. “Can I see you? Touch you?” Itori asked.

Instead of answering, Will fumbled for the hem of his shirt, pulling it quickly up and over his head, dropping it in the water beside them. There were reasons why he shouldn’t do this, but here and now, he was too weak, too hungry for more.

Plus, it would help Itori. Will needed to help him.

Itori’s hands touched him again, tracing over the shape of his shoulder and down one arm.

“I did not know humans were soft,” Itori said. The pads of his fingers moved over the muscle lines of Will’s body, careful not to nick with the sharp claw tips.

Will was sweating. Hands traveled back over Will’s chest, and he wanted to tear himself away, wanted to push into them. A thumb brushed over his nipple.

Will gasped.