La Maison 4: Blue (Complete: BDSM manxboy)

Chapter 7: Yes, No, Please

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.