A/N: numero uno - I changed the name - this was going to be called 'Boy', it's now called 'Blue'.

2: I am writing it at the same time as 'Pretty' but they don't take place at the same time (I just like variety, which is why I also write on AO3, if you like you some fanfic) - this takes place after Pretty, and during 'Colors' (you might recognize scenes if you've read that one, but you don't have to have read it to read this).

3: Kink. If you've read my other stuff, you'll know I go for rather gentle BDSM, usually. Excessive possessiveness and control is dealt with as a Bad Thing (TM). Not so here. So that is a heads up - this will be more in the direction of 'traditional' BDSM relationships as they fall in fiction. And Xander is, by far, the kinkiest Dom I've written (so far).  So there will be medical fetishism (Xander's 'thing'), which will include sounding, psuedo-examination/role play, catheters and urolagnia, enemas, as well as caning, electrical play, and cum play (okay, they're both pretty kinky).

Warned and still interested (I hope)? Have fun.

"And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why philosophy as we understand it was formed and developed by the Greeks. Please ensure you complete the section ten reading before the next lesson and come prepared to discuss your interpretations."

Xander gathered up his papers, shoving them haphazardly into his briefcase, ignoring the lustful looks from his students. He'd been doing this for two years and was used to avoiding anything inappropriate, even if it was like running a gauntlet some days.

"Professor Miller, I was wondering if we could talk about Plato? I'm going to present about him for my final assessment." The black-haired beauty fluttered her eyelashes and made sure her voice was breathy and demure. Xander hid the roll of his eyes before looking up at her with a strained smile. He wasn't even a damn professor (though, to be fair, the name did a little something for his particular desires).

"Erica, you know when my office hours are, but perhaps you should be arranging a meeting with your fellow students. It's what the great philosophers did, after all."

She pouted prettily but he just kept the vague innocuous smile up until she turned away with a huff.

He waited. He'd been a lecturer in Classics for two years, and never had any trouble staying professional with his students. Never tempted – why would he have been when François had an entire fricking stable of beautiful and well-trained submissives for him to choose from – until lately. And the reason for that temptation came barreling back in the room now, his blue-dyed hair fluffy, sandy roots showing, his skin almost translucent in its paleness.

As he had been every week when he'd done this exact thing, he was apologetic, his voice genuinely breathy and demure, so quiet Xander had to strain to hear his words.

"I'm sorry, Sir. I forgot my jacket." He dropped his books haphazardly on the desk pushing his skinny arms into the old denim jacket.

"That's okay, Timothy." Xander stood, moving closer, gathering the boy's books back up for him as he struggled to get his hand through the cuff. He took a breath. The boy smelled incredible. Xander wanted to ask him what washing powder he used, just so he could surround himself with that scent always, but he stopped himself.

"You did write down the reading, didn't you?"

He hadn't their very first week, and Xander had been treated to the sight of the boy in almost-tears their second lesson because he hadn't understood what they were discussing, the green magnified by huge sweet tears welling. He would like to see that again, very much, but preferably not in the middle of a tutorial, in front of a group of unsympathetic teens. In front of him only, or perhaps a select group of his friends, if the boy could be encouraged in that direction.

"Yes, Sir, thank you. I wrote it down."

He was so sweet, so nervous. It made Xander hard, to the point where he had to turn away. He couldn't be caught out like that.

"Do you have plans for the weekend, Timothy?"

"Sir? Oh! I have to work tonight. And maybe tomorrow, too. I'll do the reading though, I promise."

"Good boy." Shit, Xander could barely help himself, but the way the boy's eyes went very wide, and the raspy breath he sucked in did something to him.

"Anyway, I must dash. Here," he thrust the books back and almost ran from the room before the boy could respond. He'd had enough of responsibilities for now. It was time for some self-care instead.

* * * * *

He was thankful it was early enough that no one was around when he entered the building. There's no way Dex wouldn't have noticed how out of it he was, that guy was too observant for his own good.

As soon as he was in his apartment, door locked, he stripped. Shoes by door, pants, underwear, socks, shirt, in laundry basket. He stretched, enjoying the sensation of warm sun through the tall windows, thankful for his top-floor apartment and a park across the way, houses at the back far enough away not to matter. He was often naked when he was alone. Hell, he worked hard for his body, he was allowed to enjoy the way it looked in the multiple long mirrors scattered through his space. He'd been an underwear model in his teens and early twenties, and could still be now, if he'd wanted to, but he'd gotten sick of pushy photographers and borderline harassment. It really didn't fit his personality to accept that shit, and he'd decided he'd burned enough bridges with the people he supposedly owed his career to at about the same time he'd completed his Master's in Classics.

So he got the teaching gig at the same college he'd attended, and he'd focused the benefit of his looks on riding the 'influencer' wave. Frankly, it was easy money. He was smart enough to use his looks, rather than any other gimmick, so he didn't have to travel, or be available. Instead, he'd built up from the hundred thousand followers he'd started on with ease, mainly through a lot of pictures of him in his underwear, and he had over half a million these days. The only political things he posted on were LGBT and minority rights, though he was loud and proud about both of those things and could not care any less if various individuals decided to unfollow him as a result. He genuinely didn't want those people filthying up his feed.

He was due to film a video segment today for the protein drink that he used. That was the other thing – although he partnered with a lot of businesses, he only ever hawked products that he genuinely believed in. No weird weight loss water for him. His followers appreciated it because they knew they could trust him, and never being tied up in any scandals was good for his business relationships. Plus, it had been years since he'd had to buy, well, almost anything. His entire third bedroom was dedicated to boxes of free stuff he'd been sent.

But before he could even think about work, he had something else to get off his...chest. He went to his room, the sunlight beginning to mute, climbing onto his huge bed. He was a tidy guy anyway, but making the bed properly was a rule set in iron. For now, he balanced the computer on his stomach, clicking onto his favorite porn site. Paid, because you had to pay for good quality. This one had various full length videos, but he was looking for something a little more interactive.

He flicked through the thumbnails of the boys onsite now. He didn't have anything particular in mind, he told himself, though he bookmarked a cute blond before continuing his scroll. He went straight past the ones with big muscles, and summer tans, and facial scruff. He was in the mood for something sweet.

And then he spotted it, the one that made him do a double take. It was the hair in the thumbnail, dyed vibrant blue, and the pale skin, leading to an adorably round ass, clear even in the tiny picture. Just the slightest tilt to barely see the side of his face. He clicked in, the account live, and gasped.

It was him. Timothy, from his class. Leaning back in an old, over-stuffed armchair, looking tiny and pale in nothing more than a pair of tight blue boxers, a huge jelly dildo in the same hue on the arm of the chair. He was talking, but Xander's speakers were off. He moved his hand, to turn them on, but stopped himself. It was a violation. No matter that the boy was a camboy, for Xander to keep watching him in this vulnerable position, it was an invasion.

He moved the laptop to one side, extremely conscious that he'd neither closed it nor clicked out of the profile. Of course not, when he was desperately trying to justify continuing to watch. Really wanting to see what would happen with that dildo. His own cock had leapt into action the instant he'd seen him, and wasn't getting any softer at the thoughts running through his head.

"Fine," he muttered, picking the laptop back up. He left the volume alone, and went straight to the tip counter, dropping a hundred credits. That could salve his guilt a little. The boy was doing it for money, Xander would make it worth his while. He saw Timothy's eyes light up, his mouth move, pretty sure his chosen username was being thanked, then something else.

There was a moment when the boy was softly flicking at the tiny silver barbells through each of his small, pale pink nipples, and then one of the other users commented,

<cumsluts4eva> If Virgil70BCE doesn't want to choose I will

<cumsluts4eva> chock urself on that cock

Xander rolled his eyes, but, well, he might have chosen something similar, even if he'd been enjoying the sight as it was, color coming to the boy's pretty little nipples as they were played with.

Timothy smiled so sweetly at the camera that Xander felt his cock twitch, slapping against his stomach, picking up the dildo, which wobbled comically in his hand, letting it bounce into his cheek with a wide-eyed look. It was fake and the opposite of innocent, but Xander still licked his lips. Timothy played with it, brushing it over his pouting lips, flicking a tiny tongue out to run across the fat head, kissing down the side, mouthing and licking at it while maintaining eye contact in the camera. Normally, it would have turned Xander off – the fakeness of porn was a real sticking point with him – but there was an undercurrent of uncertainty in Timothy's movements that was making him harder than he'd ever been.

A couple of people in the comments were being rude, telling him to get on with it, and he glanced off to the side. There must have been someone else with him. But whatever was said, his eyes came back and he gave that lovely smile again, before stretching his lips wide and taking the head into his mouth. They were stretched obscenely as he pushed it further into his mouth, turning his head so his audience could see it vanishing, his eyes watering and his Adam's apple bobbing rapidly as it got deeper. He appeared to cough and pulled it out, his eyes streaming then, but looked to the side before nodding and reluctantly tried again.

Xander didn't know how he felt about that. The boy looked fucking gorgeous choking himself, but he didn't look happy and it didn't look like acting. He typed instead of thinking on it too hard.

<Virgil70BCE>How far are you planning on going with that thing?

Obviously he couldn't hear the response that came after a minute, but the way the comments lit up, and the tip counter started rising, he could take a guess. He dropped two hundred credits that time.

<Virgil70BCE>Do it

Timothy sent the smile again, his extra-long lashes batting against his pale cheeks, climbing onto the chair with his back to the camera, in a pose that was exactly reminiscent of his thumbnail picture. When he leaned forward, exposing himself more, it was clear he'd already done some prep, between his cheeks slick and glossy with lube, as he reached back and ran his fingertips over his tightly closed hole. It accepted two fingers easily, though, further evidence of the work already done, and he rocked back on his fingers, spreading them wide and twisting them. He was struggling to reach, and Xander pictured himself there, pushing the boy's head down, making him arch his back, making that adorable round butt pop, encouraging him to fuck himself on Xander's long fingers. Fuck, he was leaking, a messy patch in his own treasure trail, thinking such delicious thoughts.

He had to squeeze the head in his palm, needing to regain control, not wanting to miss the main show. Timothy took the dildo and positioned it at his loosened hole, still struggling with the awkward angle needed to give the best shot, but it breached him, the rim stretching even more obscenely than his lips had as he fed it in. He was moving slowly, which Xander thought was the most erotic thing he'd seen for a week, watching his body just become accustomed to a depth and then needing to make more space, as his lashes fluttered and he bit his lip.

But the audience was becoming demanding again. Fucking people. He was about to type, to remind that he'd contributed more than anyone else and he wanted it slow, but he was too late. A hand came into shot, batting Timothy's hold away, taking over, thrusting it forward harshly and then fucking him roughly with it. Timothy's knuckles were white holding onto the wingbacks, and his pretty eyes were screwed tightly shut in discomfort, his mouth wide in a shocked 'o'. His cock had gone completely limp, but the guy half in shot had pulled his own cock out, jerking on it with the same speed he was working the dildo, until he sprayed over Timothy's ass, pulling the dildo out and playing with that sweet hole, already closing back up, rubbing his cum across it before collecting more and feeding it to Timothy, who sucked his fingers like they were oxygen.

Xander felt a sense of dissatisfaction. He hadn't come, obviously. How could he? Watching that angel get abused that way. He hadn't seemed to like it at all and Xander knew plenty of sweet young things who loved it rough, who weren't happy unless it hurt, just a bit, so he considered himself a bit of an expert.

When the feed went blank, he leaned back on the bed, taking himself in hand, jerking to images of the adorable boy rushing back into his classroom, looking at him with those pretty green eyes, running his hand through his crazy hair, that sweet smile that felt like it was just for Xander, until he came, coating his stomach with a huff of frustration.