Xander stalked down the street, looking for something to vent himself on.
He was angry all the time now. During the day he could suppress and ignore
it, but at night it rose to the surface, peaking during his unwanted
liaisons with Angelus.

He was just returning from one, rage percolating at the treatment he had
received from Angelus, callous even for him. For the first time that night,
he hadn't concerned himself with Xander's own release, not even as a casual
afterthought. When it had become clear that Angelus had no intention of
rectifying the situation - was, in fact, half-asleep - Xander had simply
left before his rage could coalesce and prompt him to do something fatal.
To himself, at least.

Some sort of twisted revenge for an imagined wrong, Xander concluded
scornfully. It certainly hadn't been a mistake. That much had been made
blindingly clear.

It didn't really matter why, though. The outcome was the same - Xander was
uncomfortable, tense with need for relief, still partially erect. Better
all that than getting himself off in the vampire's presence and opening an
avenue for further humiliation.

It was in this condition, aroused and angry, that Xander was heading for
home, wanting both something to beat the shit out of, and something - he
wasn't feeling especially picky at the moment - to fuck. Walking the
familiar, half-dark route, Xander spotted a small clump of people up ahead.
As he drew closer, preparing to cross the street to avoid them, he realized
exactly what was going on: Two or three vampires, crowding around a single
man, whom Xander thought absently to be familiar as he moved to intervene.

He had found some time ago that vampires tended to avoid him when he was
returning home at night, a couple having gone so far as to actually sprint
in the opposite direction. He didn't know why, although he had a vague
image of Angelus putting out the word to leave him alone on some kind of
vampire grapevine. However it worked, it had saved him several different
times. Suddenly eager for a confrontation, he took full advantage of it
now.

"Back off!" he ordered loudly. The vampires turned, then snickered at the
sight of the weaponless young man heading toward them. Their amusement
faded as he got closer and they caught the scent of their master on him. He
stepped between the vampires and their prey and glared.

"Leave him alone," Xander instructed sharply. The vampires exchanged
uncertain glances, then began to back away. Any human who survived an
encounter with their master - intact, no less - must have some mysterious
authority that they would be wise not to violate.

As the vampires turned tail and ran, Xander turned to face the man he'd
saved. And stared.

"I can see you're rather useful to have around at night," Ethan Rayne
observed. He recognized this boy - one of Ripper's young compatriots.
Amused by Xander's tongue-tied disbelief, he continued, "I also see that
you didn't realize whose aid you were coming to. How awkward."

Xander, upon recovery, was rather irritated. "Sure. No problem, you're
welcome, I'll have my people call your people." He turned to go, but Ethan
reached out and took his wrist in a bear-trap grip.

"No, no. You see, you've put me in an awkward situation as well." He didn't
miss the way Xander's eyes flared with anger, and yet he didn't offer even
a token struggle. Changing tacks abruptly, Ethan let go, saying,

"Now come inside. Vampires aren't the only dangers at this time of night,
even in Sunnydale." He paused. "Or particularly in Sunnydale, as the case
may be."

Xander, curious about what Ethan wanted, saw the logic in his argument and
followed him warily through the former costume shop, now empty, into the
small apartment at the back of the building. It was, he assumed, enough of
a private living space to qualify as invitation-only as far as vampires
were concerned. He knew for certain that Ethan, self-interested as he was,
would have made sure of that.

"You see," Ethan explained as they sat at a small table, "you've placed me
in the exceedingly uncomfortable position of owing you my life. I'd prefer
to erase the debt tonight rather than have you throw it at me at some
inopportune moment."

This was, like ninety percent of everything that came out of Ethan's mouth,
pure bullshit. He had, as a matter of fact, been perfectly safe behind an
anti-vampire charm that he'd wrought specially to use the Hellmouth's
powers against its own spawn; he loved the irony. The truth was, Ethan's
quick brown eyes had taken in Xander's current physical condition within
seconds after the vampires' hasty retreat. Not only was the boy a decidedly
lovely specimen, but he had the added allure of being closely associated
with dear Rupert. Both factors had set Ethan's devious mind in searching of
ways to best take advantage of Xander's obvious need before they'd even
gotten through the door.

Xander easily recognized the expression in Ethan's eyes. He'd seen it time
and again in Angelus's eyes: the older man wanted him. Xander, still in no
mood to be picky, began to contemplate how to take advantage of it.

"Really?" he asked, artfully rearranging his body to sprawl invitingly over
the chair. "What did you have in mind?"

Ethan laughed quietly, intrigued. "Why don't you tell me?"

Xander hesitated, unexpectedly thrown by the idea of making the first move.
Ethan watched silently, curiosity piqued by Xander's sudden change in mood.
Where he'd been seductive a moment ago, now he was uneasy, almost shy.
Ethan turned this over in his mind for a moment, fascinated, then continued
to wait.

Xander looked away, biting his lip and resisting the urge to squirm
nervously. What the hell was wrong with him? He desperately wanted what
Ethan seemed to be offering, and it was blindingly clear that Ethan wanted
it - but for some reason, he simply couldn't bring himself to initiate
anything.

Several moments passed before Ethan, running out of patience, finally
stood, moved around to stand behind Xander's chair, and placed his hands on
Xander's shoulders, rubbing gently. Xander arched back against his touch,
closing his eyes. Ethan stooped down and pressed a light kiss near Xander's
ear. That one gesture seemed to activate Xander - he turned around suddenly
and kissed Ethan firmly. Ethan slid his hands down over Xander's chest,
then broke the kiss and took a solid grip on Xander's hips, pulling him to
his feet.

"Are you sure of this?" Ethan asked softly. He had no desire to pressure
Xander into anything and then hear from Ripper about it later.

Xander gave him a startled look. He'd never been asked before. Never given
much of a choice in the matter. He could really say no, if he wanted to?
And Ethan would accept that?

Ethan watched surprise, then amazement, briefly cross the boy's face.
Amused, he remarked,

"I'm not a complete ogre, you know. If you tell me no, I'll respect it. I
may need a cold shower," he added dryly, "but I'll respect it." Ethan had
very little desire to take on a lover who wasn't interested in him. What
was the point? A lover who didn't want you certainly wouldn't be overly
concerned with your pleasure.

Xander contemplated for a moment more before saying,

"I'm sure." And he was.

"Good," Ethan murmured, sliding his arms loosely around Xander and starting
to kiss him again before something prompted him to say,

"You can change your mind whenever you want."

Xander, having decided that he'd absorbed enough new concepts for the day,
muttered,

"I'll keep that in mind."

Ethan chuckled. "Right. Enough talk." He kissed Xander deeply, feeling the
boy's body arch against his as he responded eagerly. Xander clutched Ethan
tightly, savoring the novel feel of a warm, living body against his. Ethan
lazily enjoyed the kisses, letting them spread soft warmth through his
body. Xander, accustomed to being pushed along after a few hasty, savage
kisses, was initially taken aback by Ethan's relaxed approach. He liked
this much better, he decided, and loosened his hold on Ethan as the
subconscious, conditioned urge to hold on to him while he could subsided.

They made their way to the bed at the same leisurely pace, Ethan taking
curious note of the way Xander automatically lay back, assuming the bottom
position without question. The boy's tendency toward passivity was becoming
clear. It had to be a learned behavior, Ethan reflected - men, as a general
rule, were far more aggressive. It occurred to him, uncomfortably, that
perhaps Xander's surprise at being given the option to say no may have
stemmed from something other than Ethan had thought. Annoyance rose at the
inevitable conclusion: that Xander was being thoroughly trained to be
submissive and passive in bed. Well, that was all well and bloody good for
whoever was doing the teaching - another man, more likely than not - but
what about the boy himself? The thought of teaching someone to be, in bed,
something that they were not and perhaps didn't want to be had always
profoundly irritated Ethan. He decided at that moment, just out of general
principle, that he would work hard to undo whatever nonsense Xander's head
had been filled with about how he was "supposed" to behave during sex.

He lay down next to Xander and gently pulled the boy on top of him, then
looked up at him and waited for him to make the next move. Xander got the
idea quickly, and this time hesitated only briefly before kissing Ethan
once more. Then he sat up, straddling Ethan's hips and started to unbutton
Ethan's shirt, pausing to glance up every few seconds for approval. When
Ethan didn't object or try to stop him, Xander relaxed and began to
concentrate on what he was doing. He acquainted himself slowly with Ethan's
body, feeling a surge of pride every time something he did received a
favorable response. He'd forgotten what it was like to actively pleasure
his lover, rather than just lying there and putting up with whatever whim
that lover cared to indulge. He was so deeply absorbed in Ethan's pleasure
that he forgot, for the moment, about his own need.

Eventually, they were both naked, neither of them particularly interested
in when that had come about. Ethan watched Xander in fascination, getting
as much pleasure out of the boy's clear enjoyment as he did from the actual
touch.

Xander trailed kisses down over Ethan's abdomen to his erection. Here, he
hesitated - it had been weeks since he'd gone down on Angelus and he wasn't
sure if he remembered how to do it properly.

"Something wrong?" Ethan asked huskily. Xander looked up at him. Ethan was
flushed with lust and pleasure, his breathing quickened. Xander suppressed
a proud smile - he had done that.

"Nope," he answered, shaking his head. "I'm good." He returned his
attention to Ethan's cock, feeling somewhat more confident. He lowered his
head, running his tongue over the tip. Ethan groaned softly. Xander allowed
himself a brief smile this time before carefully taking a few inches into
his mouth, sucking gently and wrapping a hand around the rest to massage
slowly. He moved his other hand down to stroke the perineum with a single
fingertip, firmly touching the soft, sensitive skin. Ethan hissed out his
appreciation, fighting the urge to drive himself deeper into Xander's
mouth.

His restraint was rewarded a few minutes later, when Xander paused,
deliberately relaxing his throat muscles, then slowly and carefully took
the entire length of Ethan's cock into his throat, hand rising to rest
lightly on Ethan's hip. Ethan moaned, reaching down and pressing his own
hand over Xander's. Xander began to bob his head, growing steadily more
comfortable and content. A moment later, he was startled to hear Ethan gasp
out,

"Stop."

Xander pulled away instantly and sat up, insecurity viciously reasserting
itself. Had he done something wrong? Had he done something to make Ethan
change his mind about this? His anxiety was written clearly on his face,
and Ethan read it easily. He sat up also, reaching out to put his arms
around Xander, and told him,

"I'm not ready to finish just yet." Comprehension and relief dawned in
Xander's eyes as he realized - if anything, he'd been doing something
right. He relaxed and slid closer, curling up into Ethan's embrace, then
gasping sharply as his erection brushed against Ethan, sending a jolting
reminder through him of how badly he needed attention.

Ethan watched urgent lust flare in Xander's eyes, spurring on his own. He
kissed Xander, lingering briefly, then leaned back just enough to whisper,

"Top or bottom?"

Xander pulled back, taken by surprise. "I - what?" Ethan, realizing he
might have jumped the gun a little, backtracked quickly, asking a different
question.

"Do you want to have sex?"

Xander hesitated. He did want it, badly, but what if Ethan didn't? What if
he was just asking because he felt like he had to? The thought of putting
him into a position that Xander himself had been in so often recently -
enduring something he didn't want because of his lover - disturbed him.

He didn't want to be like Angelus.

"A decision today would be nice, luv," Ethan said in a slightly strained
voice. Xander looked up into his eyes. There, he found what he needed.

"Yes," he mumbled. Mysteriously embarrassed by this answer, Xander leaned
forward and kissed Ethan's collarbone so that he wouldn't have to look at
him.

Ethan closed his eyes and patiently - for now - returned to his earlier
question as his hands roamed over Xander's back and shoulders, gently
caressing soft skin and kneading muscles.

"Top or bottom?"

Xander tensed, burying his face against Ethan's shoulder. He couldn't make
this decision. He silently begged Ethan to make it for him.

Xander was curious about what it was like to be on top. Part of him wanted
to try it. But most of him, because of his experiences with Angelus,
associated being the top with being cruel and domineering. He preferred
dealing with that treatment to being the one to give it out.

Ethan opened his eyes and looked down at the young man, who had gone rigid
and still in his arms. It was at that moment that his long-delayed
impatience finally began to grow - why did Xander have to be so bloody
fragile? He firmly stifled it - if Xander sensed it, chances were good that
he would lose all interest in sex. And at this point, that just wouldn't
do. The worst of that, though, was that Ethan strongly suspected that
Xander, no matter how badly he wanted Ethan to stop, would suck it up and
let him do what he wanted. It was painfully clear what he'd been taught.
Fear the consequences of saying no. Keep your mouth shut, let it happen,
and things will be fine, but if you speak up . . . In essence, Xander had
been taught that whether he was enjoying himself or not wasn't important.
The very idea was completely alien to Ethan, and his impatience with Xander
was quickly replaced with anger toward the bastard who had caused the boy's
fragility to begin with. He fought this back, too, not wanting Xander to
pick up on it and misinterpret it, and rephrased his question.

"What are you more comfortable with?" There was a long moment of silence,
then a small, muffled voice spoke.

"What do you want me to say?"

Ethan paused, floored. "Xander," he said after a moment, "I'm not looking
for one particular answer." He gently lifted Xander's chin up, making the
boy look at him. "Why would I give you an option I didn't like?"

This hadn't occurred to Xander, and he bit his lip, weighing the logic. "I
. . . I don't wanna be on top," he finally told Ethan, not meeting his
eyes.

Ethan kissed his forehead. "All right," he replied. A brief smile crossed
his face as Xander gave a small sigh of relief.   Yes, Xander, it is as
simple as that.  "Now if you'll excuse me," he continued, gently
disentangling himself from Xander and standing up, "I need to get a couple
of things." Xander nodded and watched Ethan walk to the dresser and
retrieve a tube of lubrication and a pack of condoms. He was slightly taken
aback by the condoms, having never used them with Angelus, but then he
realized the obvious - Angelus's dead body couldn't sustain any viruses,
but Ethan's very much alive one definitely could, as could his own.

Ethan returned to the bed, focussing on opening a foil packet and
retrieving the condom.

Before he even realized he was going to speak, Xander asked,

"Can I put it on?"

Ethan smiled a bit and held out the condom. "Be my guest."

Xander smiled back, somewhat tentatively. He took the condom and turned his
attention to the task at hand, rolling it neatly up over Ethan's erection.
It fit perfectly, and Xander, stroking Ethan lightly, was pleased to find
that he could still feel the older man's natural heat through the thin
material.

Ethan placed his hand over Xander's. "That's enough of that. You want me to
come before we even get a chance to use the damned thing?" Ethan's gently
amused tone made the sarcasm light instead of cruel, and it wasn't until
much later that Xander recognized the words as something that Angelus might
have said.

Ethan gently pushed Xander back, deliberately not giving him a chance to
get on all fours as Ethan suspected he would have. He didn't want to go
through Round Two of battling Xander's submissive-overkill tendencies; his
need was too overwhelming for him to deal with that right now.

Ethan grabbed the lube and flipped the top open, applying a generous
portion to his cock. Flinging the tube aside, he slipped a finger into
Xander. The boy groaned softly, eyes closed, pushing down against his hand.
After a moment, Ethan pulled his hand away and gripped Xander's hips,
saying,

"Put your legs around my waist."

Xander did so, making his entrance more accessible. Ethan slid into the
warm passage and his hands unconsciously tightened a little on Xander's
hips. Xander gasped sharply at the new sensations - the heat of Ethan's
cock warming instead of chilling him, the different pressures inside him
from the new angle. There was also the feel of his arms relaxed by his
sides and not tense and aching from holding himself up, and his back and
shoulders comfortably supported by the mattress rather than arched and
straining. And Ethan's slow, deep thrusts, so unlike the violence he was
used to.

But there was also a certain vulnerability. Xander, keenly aware that he
was face-to-face with Ethan, was suddenly afraid that his every thought and
emotion showed clearly in his face for the older man to see. At least on
his hands and knees he could keep his feelings secret, could lower his head
and hide his face. This was too open. He kept his eyes closed and struggled
to concentrate on the sex.

Then Ethan kissed him. The move was unexpected, and Xander was frozen with
surprise for a moment. Then all thoughts of vulnerability flew from his
head as he reached up to clutch Ethan anxiously, returning the kiss with
eager intensity. It overwhelmed his mind - the combination of the safely
intimate kisses and the leisurely sex, engulfing him in mental warmth as
well as physical, a delicious sensation he'd never experienced before, and
it pushed him so close to the edge . . .

- and Ethan wrapped a hand around his cockk and stroked firmly. One stroke
and Xander came explosively, annihilating himself but in a good, a
wonderful way, an orgasm more intense than any he'd had before.

Ethan backed out of the kiss so that Xander could gasp for breath and start
to recover. He began to thrust a bit faster, concentrating on his own
climax, as Xander opened his eyes and gazed sleepily up at him, fascinated
by what he saw - the intensity in Ethan's face - and forgetting his own
desire to not be seen. Ethan came a few minutes later with a low groan,
pressing his head down against Xander's shoulder. He stayed in that posture
for a moment, and Xander's hand stole up to stroke his hair. Eventually, he
sat up, pulling off the sodden condom, tying it off, and throwing in the
wastebasket by the bed. He lay back on the bed next to Xander with a little
sigh, closing his eyes.

I should leave before he has to ask me to. Xander allowed himself the
luxury of another moment's rest before getting up reluctantly and starting
to gather his clothing together.

Ethan opened his eyes. "What are you doing?"

"Leaving?" Xander offered weakly, slightly thrown by the hint of sharpness
in Ethan's inquiry. Ethan shook his head.

"I certainly hope I haven't managed to give you the wrong impression about
myself, Xander," he remarked. "Truth be told, I am an extremely selfish man
and I insist you stay the night."

Twist my arm. "I didn't really want to leave anyway," Xander admitted,
dropping his clothes.

"I know," Ethan replied enigmatically. "Though since you're up," he
continued, suddenly practical, "the bathroom is over there. If you could
duck in and get a towel . . ." Xander nodded, picking up the train of
thought, and ducked accordingly, emerging from the tiny room with a thick,
navy blue towel, which he used to clean his semen from himself and Ethan.
He returned to the bathroom to put the towel in the hamper and came out to
find that Ethan had slipped under his blanket.

Ethan gestured for Xander to join him. Xander slid under the black coverlet
and was pleasantly surprised to find himself almost immediately in Ethan's
arms. It was more than he'd dared anticipate and he sighed blissfully,
burrowing against Ethan's chest and closing his eyes.

Ethan, catching a glimpse of the surprised pleasure on Xander's face,
wondered for the first time exactly who the boy's cruel lover was. In a
town like Sunnydale, the possibilities were virtually limitless and utterly
intriguing. What kind of creature had Ripper's young friend ended up in bed
with?

Ethan pondered it for some time before firmly dismissing it as something to
explore tomorrow. For now, he was tired and needed to sleep.

Tomorrow, however, he would be sure to find out the entire story.

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