Xander had 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 reas...
A/N: okay, literally any character I'm directly writing is my favorite at that moment in time - I'm fickle that way - but some hold a special place, and Tim is just a precious little bean and needs looking after and I adore him.
These pics are not Tim - none of them (you picture him however you want off the description) - but they acted as inspiration and I thought you might like to see. I'd like to hear which one comes closest to how you pictured him - and I might even tell you which one is closest in my mind 😁
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As soon as he walked into the lecture theater Xander was looking for that shock of blue hair. There was only a couple more tutorials, and then the assignments were due, so he was going to have to step up his game if he wanted to secure that adorable boy. And he did. Christ, he hadn't felt an ache like this for someone in years, and he told himself he'd be feeling the same even without the cam shows, though they'd undoubtedly added a frisson.
He'd been beyond perfect on Friday, listening so well and looking so gorgeous. Xander had thought he was going to pass out with pleasure, coming harder than he had in a long while when the boy had licked up his own release. He was special, though it was becoming increasingly clear he didn't realize just how special he was. That roommate would have to go, assuming that was the man during the cam show.
In the meantime, he needed to get close. He finally spotted the boy near the back – he must have come in late, when Xander's back was turned, but his electric blue fluff was unmistakable.
Xander only got through the lecture because he knew his material inside out, otherwise he knew he'd have been blurting our very inappropriate things, because Timothy looked so darn cute with his head bent over his paper, scribbling away, little tongue (and boy, didn't Xander have a thing for that tongue) protruding from between his small white teeth. He didn't even use a laptop, and Xander just knew, if he asked, he'd be some sweet hick from the Midwest, looking at life in the big city with awe.
He was worried though, that big city life might be doing to that perfect angel exactly what it did to so many ingénues who arrived, wide eyed and innocent, gazing in wonder at the bright lights. Chew them up and spit them out. He was certainly unnaturally nervous, and had an innocence about him that was borderline strange in a twenty-three year old who fucked himself on camera for money. And there was that, too. Xander had always been happy to throw money around, once he finally got some, so had no issue with paying more to get what he wanted, and the boy had seemed almost pleased at their communication, which was probably down to the money, but he hadn't seemed that into any of the rest of it, and a burn of guilt ran through Xander that he was adding to whatever that problem was.
"Timothy," he stood over the boy as he scurried around picking up everything he'd managed to drop. Xander bent to help him, their heads close as he handed Timothy's phone to him.
"Sorry, Sir." He'd obviously forgotten Xander said to use his name, and Xander leaned into the pleasure that ran through him at the word.
"It's okay, everyone's gone. No rush to lock up. Take all the time you need."
