A/N: felt like some gentle fluff, and some revelations beginning

Tim crept out of bed, awoken by the warm morning light because they hadn't pulled the blinds the night before. There was no need, because the windows looked over a park and were far too high for anyone to see in, but it still gave him a frisson when he thought of the things his Dom had done to him right next to those windows the night before.

Xander was still asleep and Tim took a moment to admire the lines of his beautiful body, and the way his defined, masculine, face became a little softer, a little prettier, in sleep. He had to leave then, because he could feel everything thrumming through his blood. He'd been keeping himself strapped down so tight, for so long. Trying to not be a bother. Trying to not be annoying, and get in the way, and let his mouth run. It was painful, almost physically so, sometimes – the way his brain vibrated with power. Except it wasn't power. It was a weakness. His brain was broken, he knew that.

Before those thoughts could overwhelm him, he skipped into the kitchen, determined to maintain the happy buzz he'd woken up with. Xander had proved something to him the night before, something he had never let himself hope would get proven to him. That he cared, and that Tim's ridiculous lack of control wasn't going to be something that sent him skittering away. Xander wasn't disgusted by what was wrong with Tim.

Tim filled the kettle and put in on the stove. He debated making breakfast, but he didn't want to force Xander to wake before he was ready. It gave him an idea, though, and he giggled to himself as he retrieved Xander's camera from its home in the cabinet by the tv.

Xander was still asleep, one arm thrown over his head and the thin sheets having naturally ended up arranged artfully over his lower body, twisted in his long legs, but covering everything 'R' rated. His entire, incredible, torso was visible, and the light was making his summer tan positively glow.

It took Tim a few attempts, finally realizing that he needed to re-hang the light tapestry over the dark wood of the cross as it was affecting the play of the light. Once he did that, though, he got off several shots, any one of which he knew would be perfect for Xander to post, if he wanted to. He knew better than to post them to his own feed, regardless of how tempted he suddenly felt to lay more claim to the man. Ever since that first picture where he'd tagged Tim, there had been several more, but Tim hadn't yet confirmed the speculation-filled comments by adding anything more himself. He wasn't sure how Xander might react, and it felt awkward to suggest a claim himself.

"You having fun there, Annie Leibovitz?"

Xander's voice was rough with sleep but fond, and Tim's heart jumped.

"You looked nice, Sir."

"What's that noise?"

"Shit! Sorry."

Tim ran from the room, all the calmness he'd managed to maintain vanishing. He'd messed up, and by the time he got back to the screaming kettle, he knew it was ruined, burnt out.

Xander followed, shuffling sleepily, rubbing his nose in a way that would have been completely endearing if Tim could have focused on it instead of the undulating panic that he'd messed up really bad.

"What happened?"

"I'm sorry, Sir, I'm so sorry. I forgot about it. It boiled dry. It's ruined. I'm so sorry."

Tim was barely keeping the tears at bay, knowing, now, that he had to accept his punishment. He couldn't be a little kid and just cry his way out of it. That would be pathetic.

But Xander still looked confused, and then his face changed back to its normal handsome sharpness as realization dawned.

"Okay, come here." He pulled Tim into his arms. "Hey, why you fighting this?"

"I'm sorry, Sir," Tim tried to get his limbs to stop tensing, to go where his Dom wanted him – to not disappoint him even more.

"The kettle isn't a problem, Angel. I need you to know that. You aren't going to get punished for forgetting things or for things that happen by accident. Do you understand?"

"Uh, yes, Sir."

But Tim didn't, not really, and he couldn't relax his body or his mind, poised for Xander to finally announce that all this stupidity, that Tim had managed to keep hidden so well before now, was too much. That Tim was too much.

It didn't happen though, Xander pulling him to the couch, wrapping long arms and long legs around him to keep him in place as he dragged the cashmere blanket off the armrest and over them both. It was warm, but Tim still shivered against Xander, unable to still the frantic machinations of his defunct brain; telling himself this couldn't last, he wasn't good enough, he was dumb. Repeats of memory flashing across his mind.

He'd almost dozed off with Xander's soothing hand stroking through his hair, when he was brought back by an excited voice. "Xander! Timmy! I'm coming in, put your clothes on."

"Dae, Baby. Be good."

Dae and Dexter came in, bearing takeaway coffee cups and a highly promising paper bag. Tim felt instantly awkward, his tantrum from the night before coming back in technicolor, and he turned his head to press against Xander's chest.

"You know that spare key is meant to be for emergencies?"

"You did SOS the request for coffee and pastries. I inferred."

Dexter reached over Tim to shake Xander's hand, ruffling Tim's hair on the way past, which was weird, but Tim didn't hate the casual touch. Dae was pulling the coffee table closer and putting the drinks out, going to the kitchen for plates for the pastries.

Xander carefully shifted from behind Tim, apparently unbothered by being in nothing but his low-hanging sleep pants around his friends. Tim was conscious of his almost naked state, only in tight underwear, but Xander seemed to sense it and tucked the blanket around him, passing him one of the steaming cups. Dae came over with a cinnamon bun on a plate, handing it to Tim with a kiss to the cheek. Again, even if it was a bit strange, Tim didn't hate the unexpected contact.

"So...you guys are awake earlier than we thought you'd be?" Dae prompted from his position on the other couch, where he'd thrown himself after selecting a huge, sugar coated raspberry turnover, red filling already threatening to break free.

"You make a mess with that and you'll be on your knees, licking it up," Xander growled.

"Wouldn't be the first time," Dae laughed at the same time as Dexter warningly said Xander's name.

"Sorry, Dex," though Xander didn't actually sound that apologetic.

Dexter nodded. "But he's not wrong Baby. Every crumb."

"Aw, Daddy," Dae whined, but he reached for a plate and held the pastry over it with exaggerated motions.

Tim couldn't work out if he was shocked. He really hoped Xander would react harder than Dexter had if another Dom made a comment like that to him, but then, he'd have taken a plate. Probably. If he'd remembered. Maybe Dae was like him. He seemed different to how the others had been, the night before. Everyone had been very soothing and sensitive, telling him not to be worried, and that it was Xander's job to make him feel okay, but Dae had just said, 'Tell us if you need help burying the body,' and 'Don't let him treat you like a kid, unless that's what gets you off."

Tim thought he understood that a bit more, now he was seeing Dae in the daytime, dressed in incredibly tight jeans and an oversized graphic t-shirt that hung off one shoulder, calling his Dom 'Daddy' and bouncing around like an over-excited puppy but not, really, getting into trouble about it. It was clear he wasn't like the others, but he was still a sub, and if the exasperated adoration in Dexter's eyes was any indication, it could still work. But then, Dae gathered up the plates when they were done, and the empty cups, tidying everything away and loading the dishwasher without any prompting. Tim wouldn't have been brave enough to take control that way, especially in someone else's home, but even here, with other people around.

"Have you talked?" Dexter rolled his eyes a bit, his voice a little hard, and Tim guessed he'd been waiting for Xander to bring it up.

"No. And we aren't doing it with an audience."

"Aw, Master Xander, but I wanted to watch."

"Don't be a brat to me, Dae, or I'll have to get your Daddy to punish you."

Xander glanced guiltily at Tim when he said that, but Tim didn't mind – he wasn't threatening to punish him, and he had a feeling Dae was in a very different mindset about it, especially when he cocked his hip, elbow jutted, and pouted.

"Mean, Master Xander. Don't threaten me with a good time."

Dexter laughed, standing up and pulling Dae against himself.

"And that's our cue. Someone's looking for something they're not going to get here."

"Yes!"

"You speak too soon, Baby Boy. I have a huge jar of buttons that need color sorting."

Tim could hear Dae's whimpering pleas for leniency and promises to behave for at least an hour all the way to the door.

"He isn't wrong though, Angel."

Tim looked at Xander's serious but worried face. He'd like to, but he knew he couldn't put it off, not after the night before.

"I know, Sir."

"Do me a favor. I hope this isn't going to make things complicated, but when we're negotiating and discussing, I need you in a more controlled mindset. I need to know you aren't agreeing to things just because you want to give me control. So use my name, so I know it's Tim I'm talking to, rather than my Angel."

"Okay, I can do that. Xander."

"Good. What first?"

"First?"

"Well, I think we need to discuss kinks again. Find out where your head is at with some of them. Then we need to explore your reactions last night."

Tim took a deep breath, though ultimately decided on the easy stuff.

"When you made that comment to Dae...would you have? Made him lick it up?"

"No. It was an empty threat from me. Though not from Dex. Dae has a bit of a humiliation kink, and it's particularly effective for his punishments."

"He'd have done something so, so charged in front of us?"

"He would, if he deemed it necessary. There's no sharing with the two of them though – which is something they discussed and came to an agreement about. So even if he'd made Dae do that, I wouldn't have joined in, wherever it went."

"Just...I mean, I don't think I'd have liked that. I don't have that, that humiliation thing."

"Okay. Does that mean you wouldn't like other people involved?"

Tim shuddered, and he saw Xander's face fall before schooling his features.

"Oh no, Xander, that was a good shake. I think I would. And I'd even like it," his voice dropped to a whisper, "if you called me your slut."

"Mine, though? That part's important to you, isn't it?"

"Very. Even if there was someone else. Is that okay?"

"More than. What about performing? Dae and Dex do that. On the stage in the club, or just around the edges. They don't mind an audience."

"I don't know about on a stage. That's a lot. Everyone else knows what they're doing."

"You will too, I promise. I'm going to train you on some of the basic processes. I might even ask one or two of the other subs to help. How you're meant to behave, that kind of stuff."

Xander's face became more serious, and sad, and Tim knew further fun talk would have to wait.

"I'm sorry I let you down so badly, but not properly letting you know how you were expected to react in the club was stupid."

"Oh, no." Tim wriggled out of the blanket, flinging himself against Xander, straddling his thighs and getting his arms around his shoulders as best he could.

"But yes," Xander's voice was muffled, pressed into Tim's neck. "I should have done better. But," and he gently pushed Tim until he was upright, "you did have a pretty big reaction. Can you tell me about it?"

Tim looked down from his perch. He wanted to tell Xander everything. He'd never told anyone. Never said any of it out loud, but for Xander he would. But he didn't have the words to keep it simple.

"I got into a lot of trouble when I was a kid. School. Other kids – fights, you know? It used to make my mom sad. All she wanted was for me to behave, and I didn't. I did badly in school, and badly out of it. I used to get spanked a lot."

"That's why you don't like the thought now?"

"Not exactly." Tim took a huge breath. "I was eight the first time my dad took his belt to me. And I was twelve the first time he used a broken bottle to cut me."

The tears in Xander's eyes arrived instantaneously, but he blinked them away, clinging to Tim's forearms. His thumbs stroked the tattooed skin, and then he got a light of realization in his eyes.

"These scars. I can feel them under the ink. And you've got one here," he gently stroked Tim's tiger. "That was him?"

"I wasn't disciplined. I kept getting into trouble, and nothing they did stopped it. I just needed punishment to make me see the right way to behave."

Xander's mouth dropped open, closing again, repeated several times as he searched for words.

He finally sighed. "You say that as if you think it was right, that he punished you that way."

"Listen, Xander, you have to understand. I was a total little shit. My mom and him tried everything..."

Xander shook his head, mouth pursed.

"You're going to speak to Gray."

"Gray? The guy from last night? Why?"

"He's a psychiatrist. His private practice is therapy. He knows what he's doing."

"But he was..."

Xander smiled weakly. "You can say."

"Well...he was horrible, last night. I don't want to talk to him."

"Just once. He can refer you to someone who'll be better for you, but he's always our first stop for stuff like this."

"Happens a lot?"

"Too often. Please, though. See him."

"Fine. Once, and for you, I'll do it."