A/N: Remember, kinky Xander.

Okay, trigger warning for the concept of non-consent. Though anything that happens in that sphere here will be very much *consensual* non- consent, agreed and approved as SSC.

Xander noted Timothy's dark mood the moment he arrived, despite the weak smile he threw out. He wanted to point out the club next door, maybe even show off a little about his apartment, but Timothy just plodded up the stairs with an ill-concealed sulk.

Xander thought for a moment about letting it go, but it would be disingenuous to begin something between them by pretending to be something he wasn't.

"Timothy," he kept his voice low and dark, the force of the instruction inherent, "stop."

He stopped as if remote controlled, standing just outside Xander's red-painted door, but not turning.

"You were in a good mood when we spoke earlier. What happened?"

There was nothing, for the beat of several deep breaths. Finally, Timothy's fists ceased their clenching.

"It's not you, Sir, I apologize. It was wrong of me to let my emotions interfere with my behavior."

Damn. That was the downside to sending him away with such a wide variety of reading to do. He'd absorbed a lot of it, and now Xander had to work out which parts the boy actually wanted and which parts he just thought were appropriate.

"Come inside. We have a lot to discuss."

At least the apartment got a positive reaction once they were inside. Even though he leased from François, he'd been given entirely free-reign to make it his own, and the bones were perfect. He watched Timothy take in the three tall and wide sash-style dormer windows that looked over the park and let light into the white-painted room. This side of the double fronted apartment was one huge open plan space – kitchen, dining, living – so, even though the ceiling was pitched due to it being on the top floor, it was light and airy, the blond-wood floors and light gray painted kitchen helping, and the stylish artwork and soft furnishings adding color.

Timothy flushed when he realized Xander was watching him gaze around the room.

"Sorry, Sir. I like it. I like, er," he gestured at the exposed brick walls at either end of the long space and then looked at his feet in a way that had Xander thinking all sorts of advanced things.

"I'll show you around properly later. Sit down. May I offer you a drink?"

"Water? Please."

"Of course."

Xander grabbed two chilled glass bottles from the fridge and offered one to Timothy, guiding him to one of the couches while he sat in his favorite armchair by the window.

"That's, er, that's from the picture."

Timothy was wide-eyed, and licked his lips, though Xander managed to stay seated, even if he didn't hold back the small groan that escaped.

"Let's discuss things."

The faster they did, the faster he could do something with his currently incredibly overactive imagination.

"Yes, Sir."

"You're happy to call me Sir?"

"Yes...please, can I? Is that something you like?"

"A great deal, Angel. Do you have your notebook?"

Timothy fished it out of his bag and passed it over with a guilty-looking smile, and Xander suspected he knew why when he opened it and saw all the notes. Well, at least he couldn't accuse his boy of being anything other than thorough about this.

"Your friend helped you?"

"Angelica. Ange. She's Scotty's girlfriend."

"And Scotty's your best friend?"

Timothy nodded.

"You don't live with them though?"

"No. They live in dorms. I couldn't because my scholarship doesn't cover accommodation and I couldn't afford to."

"But you must trust Angelica a lot? To have her help you."

"I do, Sir. And she introduced me to her friend, Raya, who works as a Dom."

The name didn't ring a bell, but then he didn't know very many female Doms, and those he did weren't paid for their services. But Timothy's mood seemed to be lifting, so Xander was happy he'd benefited from additional guidance.

Xander looked at the final completed page in the notebook, which was a table. He didn't say anything as he read Timothy's hard limits. Knife, scarification, and bloodplay – no surprise there after their previous conversation. Whips, canes and heavy impact. Okay, he could work with that. Slave or service dynamic; not a problem. Xander might be controlling, but he was no Master, other than in occasional name at the club. He was surprised to not see a few things that often made it to the hard limits list – surprised and pleased. Even more so when he glanced at the soft limits column and noted that a few of his favorite things, that a number of subs shied away from, were there.

"Your free list, you understand that?" he asked, holding down his excitement by sticking to the simpler things.

"Yes, Sir. Things I'm happy for at any time."

"So, most positions, wrist bondage, blindfolds, plugs and dildos. Of course, even with those, you always have your safewords. That gives us some great things to begin with."

"What about the soft limits...Sir? Raya said you'd discuss them."

"Yes, but we'd normally start with the things we know you're happy with and build up to discussing them."

"Oh. I thought- okay, it doesn't matter."

"Use your words, Angel. That's one of your rules, along with calling me Sir."

"Rules?...er, Sir."

"Yes, rules about behavior. You have to use your words. No hiding behind that adorable blue hair or those pretty eyelashes. I have to know what you are and aren't comfortable with, and you can't cover yourself behind silence."

"Okay...well, I thought we'd talk about the soft limits so I could work out which ones will go on my free list and which ones on my hard limits. Sir."

"You might have a soft limit list forever, Angel. There might always be things that you only want to do when you're in a specific kind of mood. And there's a lot on this list. How about you tell me five things you want to know more about, and we can discuss them?"

Xander handed the notebook back, and Timothy looked at the list for a long time. Xander was worrying that he'd put too much on the boy, when he looked up with pink cheeks.

"When we were on the phone, you mentioned medical kink. I'd like to know more about that."

Xander blew air out. "That's a huge one, Angel. It covers a lot of the other things. It isn't a single kink. But I'm extremely into...I guess we can call it roleplay, though I like a lot of it without roleplay, too. You'll understand more when you see my room at the club."

"The club? Room?"

"It's my space. For scenes. And it's decorated like a doctor's office."

Xander forced himself to maintain eye contact, despite how nervous he was. He sometimes forgot that it was so easy at the club. Specialist kinks like his got around quickly, so any sub who agreed to scene with him knew what to expect, but even then, there was often shock or nervousness when they saw it. He expected confusion from Timothy, but the look he got was nowhere near that. Timothy's pretty green eyes were dark instead, and he ran his small tongue over his lower lip.

"So, you like to pretend to be a doctor and do examinations? Kinky examinations that would get you struck off? Sir."

Xander's laugh was half amusement, half relief.

"Yes. Exactly that."

Timothy sat back a little more comfortably on the couch, and Xander could practically see the thoughts whirring through him, but he didn't interrupt.

"So..." Timothy began, eventually, a sweet pink flush across his pale cheeks, "if you were going to identify something from the list, Sir, that represented what you like most about that, what would it be?"

It was Xander's turn to think. A good question, really, though not one he'd ever tried to answer before. And when he arrived at the answer he found most apt he was nervous again. Everything was so new to Timothy and, for some reason, he really didn't want to scare the boy off, even as he was painfully aware of how many ways he could be freaked out.

"I think one of the biggest areas, which relates to the roleplay, is," he refused to stutter this – Timothy was looking for confidence from him, "consensual non-consent."

"That's...contradictory, Sir?"

"I would never do anything that you didn't want me to. Or that anyone didn't want me to. I have no fantasies relating to actually truly going against someone's will. But pretending, well, it can add to the power shift, that I enjoy a great deal."

"So, Sir, you do something and I pretend I don't want it?"

"It can look like that. Or that we roleplay an uneven authority dynamic and I, in play, pressure you into something."

"Oh, I think I read about that. They called it dubious consent."

"I don't like to sugar coat it that way. As far as I'm concerned I either have consent or I don't. There's no 'dubious' about it. Because I like to play that way, I don't like the confusion."

"I see, Sir."

Xander watched Timothy, who, to his relief, didn't seem horrified – the opposite, with that light shining in his eyes – but he also didn't really understand, either.

"May I show you, Timothy? It may help you understand."

"Tim, Sir. Yes, I'd like that."

He was palpably trembling, anticipation running through him, and Xander felt the course of power hit him at what he could take from this precious boy, the position of power he was already in, and the steady knowledge that he would treat that boon with the gratitude and care it deserved.

"Before we start," he dropped his voice, into the calming, deep tones that he could see sparked right into Timothy's brain, opening something primeval, "you need safewords."

"Sir, I read that. Can I use traffic lights?"

"Yes. What do you say if you want to stop?"

"Red, Sir."

"And if you want to slow down and reduce intensity?"

"Yellow, Sir."

"And if everything is good and you're enjoying it?"

"Green, Sir."

"Good boy."

And, of course, Xander saw the tremor of pleasure those words caused, and chuckled darkly. Perfect.

"Later, when we know each other better, I might discuss with you pushing into zones of slight discomfort, perhaps emotionally, certainly physically, but not yet. We start small and build. So, if at any point you feel uncomfortable, embarrassed, in pain, upset – any negative feeling – you use your safewords; whichever you deem appropriate. Understand?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Even more important, because I'm going to take what I want, whether you want to give it to me or not."

He waited, gauging Timothy's response, whether he grasped what Xander was really saying.

"Sir, yes, Sir. Green, Sir."

Too easy. Xander could barely believe he'd found his ideal foil this way.

Xander stood, grabbing Timothy's wrist and pulling him up, his light body positively flying to press against Xander, a sweet whimper escaping his throat. Xander lifted him so his feet barely touched the ground, pressing his mouth into that smooth neck, nipping roughly along the length between growling in his ear.

"You come here, playing innocent. We both know you aren't, you're a horny little slut aren't you?"

Xander kept a firm grip, waiting to monitor any tenseness at the slur. It was usually either loved or very much hated. Xander loved it but wouldn't use it if Timothy was bothered. But he sank against Xander with another high-pitched gasp, which was nothing but a good sign.

Timothy's eyes flicked up to meet Xander's as he pulled back from mauling him. He was breathing heavily, already, focus barely there, and Xander considered that he'd need to be careful with this until he could read his boy more effectively.

"I didn't, Sir, I promise. It's not a lie."

It took Xander a moment to remember what Timothy was responding too, and when he did, his heart swelled with pride at his boy's effort.

"Oh? An innocent boy, coming into the lion's den, then? Ready to be eaten alive?"

"Please, Sir," Timothy whimpered beautifully, "please, no."

Xander lifted him easily, flipping him in a smooth move as he dropped himself onto the couch, Timothy stomach down over his knees, pushing his jeans past his narrow hips and his sneakers off in one swipe. Xander parted his ass cheeks, spitting roughly and expertly, rubbing the saliva over the taut muscle.

"Not so innocent, little slut, opening up so easy," he growled, bending to kiss at Timothy's wriggling shoulder.

"Please don't. I haven't done that, please, you'll hurt me." Timothy twisted his neck, long lashes fluttering as Xander moaned at the idea of his boy playing virgin for him.

"You'll take exactly what I give you," Xander reached into the side table drawer, pulling out lube and flicking the cap open, pouring a liberal amount directly onto Timothy's round ass, before discarding it and using that hand to firmly pin his neck, pressing his upper body into the couch and leaving him even more exposed.

"Color, Angel?" Xander whispered, reluctant to break scene, but conscious of how new this was for his boy.

"Green, Sir...please, Sir, don't." He wriggled more forcefully, his hands coming back to scrabble ineffectually at Xander's grip.

Xander laughed evilly, running his other hand through the slickness on the pale bubble butt presented so prettily for him, his thumb passing over the tight muscle, massaging wet lube over it, before slipping the tip inside, collecting and pushing in in a rhythm that had Timothy whining and pleading and pressing his dripping cock against Xander's jean-clad thigh.

Timothy kept up his play acting wonderfully while Xander worked him open, right up until he had pressed the third finger inside him, stretching wide with forceful pressure, the sensation of which seemed to send Timothy to a place where he could only whimper softly, his expressive eyes hidden behind blue bangs and closed lids.

"You opened up so well for me, little slut," Xander bent to whisper, dropping a soft kiss onto Timothy's exposed jawline.

"Please," Timothy whispered, and the little buck he gave as Xander lifted him onto the couch, his head still on the cushion and his ass high, showed Xander he'd dropped right out of playing and into wonderfully needy, which Xander adored just as much, so he rushed to comply, only opening his jeans and rolling a condom on with a quick slick of extra lube before sliding home in a single slow drive.

"Did I turn you, sweet, innocent, Angel? You're truly a slut for me now?"

"Yes, Sir, I'm sorry. I want it, please."

"Good boy, such a good boy for me," Xander groaned as he pulled out to snap forward, his grip bruising, pinning Timothy's hips between his strong hands, building up speed in time with the curl of heat in his lower belly as Timothy bit his lip, trying, and failing, to hold in his high moans.

"No," Xander demanded, "let me hear you."

Timothy opened his mouth and his eyes, looking back at Xander with desperation.

"Am I? Sir, can I...?"

"Not without permission. Hold it."

Xander felt Timothy's clenching muscles tighten impossibly and gasped, sliding his hand down his boy's spine to grip again at the narrow neck as he drove in ever harder, releasing the coil with a shiver and a responding wail from Timothy.

"So good for me, you get your reward, Angel."

He easily flipped Timothy onto his back, sliding long fingers partly home, to find the bundle of nerves that would complete his journey, along with Xander's mouth sinking over Timothy's leaking cock.

"Oh! Can I, please, Sir?"

Xander hummed his approval, swallowing down the salty release with ease.

He yanked Timothy's jeans off fully and pulled the boy onto his lap, prepared for the trembling response to what they'd just done.

"So good for me, Angel, you were amazing."

"I was?" Timothy whimpered, pushing his nose into Xander's neck.

"I literally couldn't have asked for more, darling boy."

"You still want me?"

Xander laughed, but realized quickly Timothy was being serious.

"Angel. I wasn't joking or playing around when I told you that you were mine. That's it now. You belong to me."

Xander was worried it might be too much, so early, but it was the truth, and, to his relief, Timothy purred, pressing harder against him.

When Xander had managed to disentangle himself and make Timothy drink some of his water and eat some strawberries, he pulled him back against his body and nuzzled that sweet-smelling neck.

"I want you to come to the club, Angel. Meet my friends. Meet some friends for you, too."

"When, Sir?"

"Tomorrow. I think your butt might be a little too sore to deal with some of the things I have planned for you when I get you into my playroom before then."

Timothy giggled, but then sat up with a frown.

"I can't Sir. I'm sorry. I have to, have to, um, work tomorrow."

Xander knew what that meant, and he couldn't help the angry growl.