Tim hadn't been expecting the cozy and slightly rough-edged bar. Especially when it seemed their purpose was to order greasy burgers the size of their heads.

"You're surprised?" Raya asked.

"Thought we might be going to a club or something," he admitted.

"It's still daylight." But she laughed warmly and Tim didn't even feel stupid for his mistake. "Anyway, we can't talk about the stuff you need to know in a club. Especially the one I work in."

"Ooh, tell him about your job, Ray," Ange squeaked, handing over the bottled beers she'd collected from the bar.

Raya shrugged, a look Tim interpreted as being cross between nervous and swaggering.

"I'm a professional Dom. People – usually men but sometimes women too – pay me to dominate them. It's very 'Hollywood magic'."

"What does that mean?"

"You know, in movies where the woman wears a lot of leather and corsets and spike heels and carries a whip, and the sub crawls about on their knees and has to lick her shoes. All very stereotypical. But my customers are usually the ones who've come to it from that kind of awakening. The porn-effect. So they love it, and I'm happy to oblige."

"But it isn't real?"

"No. When I go home to my girlfriend it isn't like that at all. It's a scene, baby. Everyone's into different aspects, and you don't have to like all of it. It sounds like that's what your fella was trying to help you understand, by giving you all that information."

"But it's a bit much. I don't even know what he's into. And what happens if I go saying I hate something that he's into and I lose him before we've even started?"

"Maybe that's why he did it. No," she responded to Tim's wobbly lip, "I don't mean to push you away, I mean, if he's a good Dom, he isn't going to push you into something that's beyond what you're willing to do. Not until you've been able to establish some boundaries. And if you're subby, and I'd bet you are subby, it can be a natural instinct to try please your Dom any way you can, even if it makes you uncomfortable. He's trying to prevent that."

Tim took a swing of his beer, screwing his face up because he hated the taste, chasing it with the salt of a nearly cold fry. But students and beer – it had to be done. Or it was the easy choice, at least, to fit in. And maybe that was it. The easy choices between him and Xander might put him in danger, and Xander was trying to make sure that didn't happen.

"So what do I do? I want to try, with him."

"First, you read the stuff he asked you to read."

Tim could understand that, both because Xander's anger when he thought Tim hadn't put the effort into his schoolwork was fresh in his mind, but also because he wanted to show Xander he could do the right thing, and follow instructions.

"And then?"

"Then, you have two choices. And it might depend what you get out of your reading. You can let him lead everything. Maybe he'd like to do all the chasing."

Tim thought of Xander's reaction to discovering he'd prepared himself before going to his office earlier, and he thought the man clearly didn't mind when Tim showed him he was into it too. He didn't need Tim to be a total wallflower, of that he was fairly sure.

"Your other option is to go to him. Give him a list of what you're interested in. Be confident about what you aren't. Show him he doesn't have to worry as much, and then he'll let loose more. That can be fun. It depends whether you're ready for it though."

"Okay. So what do I put on my list?"

"I bet the sites he gave you included information about limits?"

Tim shrugged: probably, but he hadn't got that far yet. Though he did remember something Xander had said.

"Are hard limits things I don't want to do?"

"Yes. Hard limits are completely off the table. So anything that turns you off. It might be something extreme, like coprophilia, or something dangerous, like breathplay, but it could also be something relatively vanilla. For example, some people might have oral as a hard limit, or even kissing is pretty common when people are scening contractually, rather than as a couple. It really is your choice."

"I get it. Are there other types?"

"Absolutely. Soft limits are things that you might be interested in, but perhaps you haven't tried them before so you aren't certain. Or you might need to be in a particular mood to want them. They won't happen without negotiation. So he might ask if you're willing to try something, or he might do it, but take it carefully to give you chance to respond and use your safewords if necessary."

"What if I don't want to always negotiate. If I want him to be in charge?"

"That's common. And it can be part of the negotiation of your terms in advance. That's why you should understand your options, and I'm guessing it's why he wants you to have your eyes open. You can say that you want him to lead all scenes. You always have your safeword if it goes somewhere you aren't comfortable with. Even if it's something you've marked as green – with no limit – you always have your safewords," she emphasized, looking very seriously into Tim's eyes.

"Thanks, Raya. I think I'm understanding better now."

Raya had to go to work then, and she gave Tim a hug that squeezed his bones and smelled of leather and hairspray.

"So?" Ange asked when she'd waved Raya off.

"She's cool. I like that she treated me normal."

"You are normal, Timmy. I have to say, I'm totally unsurprised, though. I always had a feeling you just needed someone who wanted to look after you."

"Is that why you practically had Raya on speed dial?"

"Well, it's why I wasn't surprised when I saw the websites. And I knew Raya would be able to help you. I've seen her be utterly terrifying to people, like men who come onto her friends when it's unwanted."

Tim would bet that Ange had a personal story about that, but even without hearing it he could imagine Raya tearing someone a new one if they overstepped. It felt good to have someone like that apparently on his side.

"But she didn't scare me."

"Which is a good sign, for your reaction to people who are dominant. Her girlfriend is the sweetest, mousiest person you could think of, and Raya treats her like she's precious. She's never harsh to her, which is why I knew she'd be nice to you as well."

"I'm mousy?"

"The sweetest little squeaker, baby," Ange laughed, her brown eyes flashing with genuine mirth.

Tim didn't mind. He tended to get a reaction like that from most girls. And boys usually sneered at him and thought of him as weak. Even, or maybe especially, the ones who wanted to sleep with him. Xander hadn't reacted that way to him, though. And Tim thought he liked it.

"You want another drink and I'll help you go through the sites and make notes?"

"Thanks, Ange. Yes, please. Make it something fruity this time please."

Ange grinned at him and bounced off to the bar. Sometimes it felt good to actually ask for what you wanted.

* * * * *

When Tim woke up on Saturday morning, he felt good. Clear headed. They'd only had two more drinks, even if they'd ended up staying late, going through as much of the information as they could, and Tim now had pages of notes, culminating in a page consisting of three packed columns: 'Yes', 'No', and 'Maybe'.

He could hear Simon clattering around in the kitchen. He never did anything quietly, or smoothly. Tim couldn't even imagine Xander bashing around as if the kitchen had done something egregious to him. He found himself wondering what the man was doing now. Was he a morning person? Though it was nine thirty, so not exactly early. Would he be exercising? Yoga? He could definitely imagine that (a little too well – he was getting hard at the thought). Or running? Xander didn't look like someone who did a lot of weights, but who was Tim to know? It isn't as though he ever exercised. Or maybe he was doing something on Instagram.

Tim had no longer had the thought, when he'd clicked the app open to check. It wasn't stalking if someone put it out there for the world to see. There was a new picture – sunrise over treetops. It was pretty, some inspirational comment about the beauty of nature underneath it, a load of hashtags that he didn't bother reading. He was tempted to 'like', but pulled back. He didn't want to come on too strong. Or did he? He remembered Raya saying to be confident. To show Xander his interest. He dropped the heart before he could change his mind, scrolling back fast, as if the screen might point an accusatory finger at him: 'too much, too forward, you should be meeker'.

Going up brought him to a post from last night. Some partnership thing with a bourbon company, by the looks of it. Xander sitting back in a sexy as fuck leather armchair next to a dusk-filled sash window, or maybe a French door, the view looking more than similar to this morning's picture. He was wearing the clothes Tim had seen him in last, and he loved that. Everyone else was seeing this incredibly sexy guy – the forearms, seriously – casually mussed up, with an ankle resting on his knee, and raising a glass of amber liquid to the camera, but Tim was seeing the sweet man who had fucked him into next week and then looked after him when he freaked out. The man who'd been so careful to make sure he hadn't taken Tim's autonomy, unlike pretty much every other guy he'd dealt with in his life.

The comment under that picture made Tim's breath catch. 'Celebrating an amazing afternoon. Hopefully the start of something new and worthwhile'. That was him, right? Xander had to be talking about their time together, surely? #newbeginnings #Montgomerybourbon @blueboytimmy #canhardlywait #ti-

Wait. He'd been tagged. He hadn't even looked at his notifications, but it must be in there, and the thought made him shiver delightfully. Out of however many thousands of followers, Xander had worked out that was him – had maybe looked him up just like he'd looked Xander up, and had gone to the effort of letting him know exactly what he was referencing by including him.

He went into the comments, and was shocked by how many had spotted the tag and were commenting, wondering who he was to Xander. And then he went into his notifications. He had a hundred new followers. Shit. He hadn't expected that. And then he got a little light on. Thankfully he heard Simon slamming the door on his way out, and he went to the bathroom: product on his hair, a judicial application of eyeliner and blush. Luckily his bedclothes were clean, and it was his good set – the denim-colored linen that made his tiny room look way classier than it was – and he laid the pillows out artfully before flinging on his favorite oversized sleeping tee – with the rainbow unicorn on it – the one where the collar slipped just enough to show sharp collarbones and pale skin, the edge of the raven on his deltoid, throwing himself down to give the right 'just woke like this' look.

It took twelve pictures before he got one he was happy with, but it reflected successfully how he was feeling. A little coy, a little cute. Happy and excited. He posted before he could change his mind. 'A new dawn, a new day' #goodmorning #lookingforward #feelingit @thexandermiller. Post.

He could wait. It was tempting just to see if any feedback came from Xander. But, no. He wasn't going to hide behind anything. He was going to prove he wanted this too.

'Good morning, Sir. I looked at the websites'

The text came back within a minute.

'All of them, Angel?'

'My friend helped me. We made a list'

'Are you free later? To discuss it?'

'I'm free anytime, Sir'

'You know what that does to me. Such a sweet boy. Get ready. I'm sending a car'

Tim almost fell off the bed in his eagerness to get up.

A/N: I know female dominants are sometimes known as Dommes, but our Raya would definitely go for the gender-neutral term.

So we're back with Xander next. I wonder what they'll discuss 😜

And it turns out there are *a lot* of Xander Millers on Insta 😁 obvs our Xander is none of them