"What do you mean you're on leave?"

Tim didn't understand what Xander was saying; what he'd waited till they were back at the apartment to reveal. His boss hadn't fired him but had said she had to do some kind of investigation. And it had something to do with Tim's dad.

"It's not a problem, Angel. Maybe I wanted to take some time out anyway. I've been thinking about maybe writing a book. About classical architecture."

"You have?" Tim narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

"I have," Xander insisted.

"So my dad has caused problems for you?"

Tim was starting to embrace the new emotions he was developing about his dad. He'd spent so long scared of the man. Of what he could, and would, do. Of his opinion. He'd seen him today as something different. No less scary, really. But also pathetic. He'd come all this way, just to drag a son he had no interest in away. Because he was, what? Embarrassed? Disgusted? Whatever. Tim didn't care.

He was safe with Xander. He had friends. He wasn't going with his father. A thing he might not have thought quite so confidently before, but was ready to embrace now. And his father causing Xander problems...well, he was just furious about that. But he had new skills in his arsenal now.

"Sir?"

"Yes, Angel?"

"Can I do something for you? To help you forget?"

"Oh? Did you have something in mind?"

Tim stuttered at that. He hadn't thought much beyond wanting to distract his Dom, to make him feel good.

"Do you want to roleplay?"

Xander's face shut down a little at that.

"Sir? Please explain what's going on."

Xander sighed, rubbing his nose and letting his gaze fall on the tops of the tall trees visible through the windows.

"I'm really not worried about not lecturing. I want you to know that. I enjoyed it, but it wasn't vital to me. And, anyway, Dr Grossman will almost certainly reinstate me. The rules aren't that strong there. And I didn't do anything as bad as the accusation."

"Oh. So what's the accusation?"

It was obvious something more was bothering Xander. And if it wasn't the loss of his job, it had to be something else connected with what had happened.

"He said I groomed you," Xander finally spat out, his eyes swinging to look at his feet instead.

"What? That's ridiculous."

"Is it, though? You only came to my office that day because I lied to you and convinced you."

"So? Christ, I needed the push. You know that."

"Just because you needed it, doesn't make it right."

"Okay. Well, I wanted it then. It was right, and we already talked about this. Sorted it. You didn't make me do anything I didn't want. You never have."

He could tell Xander didn't believe him; was determined to punish himself for the perceived error. But that wasn't going to work for Tim.

"Sir, can we go to the Met?"

"What?"

"Well, you said...remember? And I think it would be nice to get out."

Tim was a little surprised that Xander agreed so easily, though he clearly still wasn't himself; just going through the motions. But Tim had a plan, to convince his Dom that the best thing that could happen in Tim's life was what was happening now. That nothing that was happening because he had to be twisted into it. No matter what his dick of a father had to say about it.

* * * * *

"We won't have that long," Xander kept his arm tightly over Tim's shoulders as they navigated the crowds on the huge steps outside the museum.

"We don't need long."

Xander shot a look at him, but Tim deflected by grabbing his hand and pulling him up the steps.

Once they were inside, Tim dragged Xander straight to the 'Classically Dangerous' exhibition, of the sometimes violent histories surrounding classical cultures.

"Sir," he said, without modulating his tone, and Xander looked up sharply. "Would you explain this piece?"

It was a diorama of a an Athenian theatre, and Xander seemed to shake off his confusion to talk freely and with passion about how the space would have been used, and about the political challenges that impacted the history of the people. He came to a stop after several minutes, and, despite the fact that his eyes had barely left Tim's, there was a loud round of applause from the gathering crowd. A southern lady with wild, curly hair asked Xander a question about one of the other exhibits, and he explained it to her, to her coyly flushed happiness.

A few people came and went from the impromptu tour, but it was still almost an hour before Xander was able to gently guide Tim away.

"Are you trying to convince me how much I like my job? Or just that you want me to become a museum tour guide?"

"No, Sir, not exactly," Tim giggled, but refused to be drawn into the demanding look Xander was trying out. "Thank you for teaching me, I've learned so much."

He fluttered his lashes, and Xander let out a hissing breath, finally understanding.

"Well, you are a very good student."

"But, Sir, I can never work it out as clearly as you explain it. Perhaps you could guide me further."

"I shouldn't be giving you extra attention. But if you're willing to prove to me just how much you want it..."

"Oh, I will, Sir. But I don't know how..."

"I'm sure I can find a way for you."

Despite their play, Xander was obviously surprised when Tim took his hand, guiding him to the public restrooms that he'd scoped out online before coming. As he'd thought, thirty minutes from closing, the special exhibit was emptying out, and the luxurious restroom was empty. Glancing around, Tim had a little moment of worry. He'd remembered how deliciously in control Xander had been in his own office, when they'd run the risk of someone knocking, but a huge museum open to the public was a different matter. However, there was a small cupboard by the door, and he opened it to find a 'restroom being cleaned' board, which he popped outside the door, before clicking the lock over as an extra precaution. He hoped the board would stop any visitors, and guards, from thinking too hard about what was going on behind the door.

"Tim, what do you have in mind?"

After his little interlude of organization, Tim dropped easily back into his earlier mindset.

"Oh, Sir, I'm sure no one will bother us. Perhaps you can help me now?"

"Fuck," Xander breathed, but he had a warm smile as he looked at Tim. "You're a naughty little Angel, aren't you?"

"Only when I want to be, Sir. Only ever when I want to be."

It seemed to charge something in Xander, and his face took on the sternness that Tim adored.

"If you want me to privately tutor you, Tim, you're going to have to prove it will be worth my while."

"Of course, Sir. But, but, what do you mean? I promise I'll try really hard."

"Oh, I know you will."

Xander leaned down, taking Tim's jaw in one hand, squeezing gently but firmly until Tim's mouth dropped open. Never breaking eye contact, Xander pressed Tim's tongue down with the pads of two fingers, sliding them almost to the back.

"You certainly talk enough in my class, but let's see if that mouth is good for anything else."

Tim kept his eyes very wide, and allowed a few tears to form, lowering himself to his knees slowly, the way he'd practiced, looking up at his Dom the whole time. Even when Xander smirked, and unfastened the silver button of his jeans, pulling his half hard cock free, Tim didn't move his eyes, making sure they projected the nervousness, maybe even fear, that the situation called for.

He kept his mouth open, but didn't react when Xander slid the smooth head over his lips.

"So pretty this way, Tim, so eager to do the right thing, no matter how difficult it is. But don't worry. You make this worth it for me, I'll make sure it's worth it for you, too."

Tim relaxed his jaw as Xander fed his cock in, relishing the velvet weight of it against his tongue. He whimpered, as he felt his character would, when it reached his throat, and grappled at Xander's thighs, careful not to safeword by pinching.

"Just relax, sweet thing. Let me guide you, let me show you what that delicate throat is good for."

Xander kept sliding, until Tim could feel his throat stretching around the invasion; could feel real tears forming at the choking lack of oxygen, which Xander brushed away tenderly.

"Just a little longer. You really are a quick learner."

Tim could feel his face getting hot and pink, but he didn't care. He certainly wasn't inclined to panic, even if his character probably would – but they didn't really have time to go that deep. He just stayed relaxed and let Xander use him, let himself float a little for however long it took.

He was surprised by Xander pulling back, slicking out of Tim's throat so fast it almost made him dizzy at the loss.

"Close your eyes," was the only warning he got, and then it was hot ropes of clean smelling cum across his closed lashes, and nose, and open mouth.

Xander pulled him up almost before he'd taken a breath deep enough to replace the missed oxygen, covering his mouth, swiftly lapping at the juices that had fallen there before kissing him passionately enough to re-steal all the air in him.

"Wait," he instructed, disappearing for a moment to return with a damp paper towel, carefully swiping the droplets away from his eyelids. "You can open your eyes, Angel."

Tim reached for the towel, to wipe the rest away, but Xander pulled it away.

"Oh, no, Angel. If you're going to be a dirty boy, you can wear me on you all the way home."

Luckily, the cum dried clear enough that very few people would have guessed what it was, but Tim didn't hate riding the subway home tucked under his Dom's arm, having the reminder of what they'd done splashed over his face.