One soft autumn afternoon, Blair decided to lose his virginity.
The idea arose when Trisha had clenched her shaking, smooth hands into his jacket and cried the entirety of their Ferris wheel ride together only just a few days ago, her soft, sweet-smelling hair shivering just under his chin. Trisha kissed his cheek and eventually released him, wiping her eyes and smiling wearily. Blair figured, that was where the idea started. The thought had bloomed in his head like the image of Trisha, wobbly on her stockinged legs, just waiting for a battle or a boy to solve her troubles.
Ferris wheels just made Blair think of N, though. Defiant and smugly looking down at him through the lens of superiority. N had told him, "I am the king of Team Plasma."
Blair had only laughed then. N had continued to talk, and quickly, but he had given Blair a cursory glance in his ramblings, as if to say, And what would that mean to you?
As a virgin, Blair thought it was kinda hard to say what anything like that meant to him. Strangely enough, it felt like, even as a guy, one's virginity was something of a hassle. There wasn't a real point in stealing it away for The One, who might not even be a virgin themselves. And then Blair would've gone to all that trouble, staying a virgin for someone who hadn't even bothered.
And if The One was a fumbling, awkward virgin, much like Blair, what would they know? Sure, experimenting, sure, sure, bonding, but, Blair didn't like the idea of no one knowing what they were doing.
Blair wouldn't know what he was doing, actually sitting on Trisha's lap this time, thinking about N and his pureness at stake and her watery eyes drooping downwards at him. Blair didn't like to see girls cry. Her black mascara didn't run, and she looked fine, but he could see the wet shine of tears beginning to brim at the pink edges of her skin. It broke his heart, a tiny bit. And it was impossible to say no.
So he didn't.
"Yeah, okay." Blair mumbled, awkwardly setting his hand down on her shoulder. She nearly jumped in response, blinking frantically.
"How old are you?" She asked worriedly, biting her lip. Blair looked down at where she was in between his thighs, her skirt riding up, sad and morose, as he straddled her. His heart jumped. He pictured her pantyhose down at her ankles and then flinched visibly.
"Um, legal?"
Trisha didn't respond, closing her eyes tightly.
"Okay." She agreed, not pressing it. Blair sighed and made to unzip his jacket, pulling it apart slowly. Trisha suddenly stared up at him with big, watery doe eyes, a blush rising on her cheeks. Blair let it fall to the Ferris wheel floor, matching her gaze blankly.
"This is my first time, so. If I do anything wrong, tell me?" Blair said, watching with a little apprehension and the tiniest bit of fascination as she lowered her skirt with a hand in between Blair's wiry boy legs and pulled her pantyhose along with it, deep and dark as it fell around her shoes. Blair bit his tongue and leaned in.
He'd never kissed a girl, either.
Better do away with that, too...right?
Trisha looked terrified but comforted by the gesture, so she tried to smile and then offered her lips, eyelashes fluttering.
Blair cupped her face with his clammy hands and was shocked at how fast his heart was beating, like little throbbing seconds that resonated throughout his body, vibrating outwards from his chest and aching ribs as his lips finally met with someone else's for the first time. Blair wasn't sure if he was supposed to breathe through his nose of if he was supposed to hold his breath or if it'd be totally un-classy to try and do that freaky tongue-kissing thing, but the problem is gone. Trisha pulled away, a warm tear streaking down her face. Blair felt it against his as they parted.
He licked his lips and shifted uncomfortably on her, wondering if he wasn't cut out for that kissing deal.
He wondered vacantly for a minute if he'd be better at fucking, but then discarded the thought. Someone like him probably wouldn't be a very good lay. That is: not confident, not able to comfort a woman, not able to make hard or fast decisions about that tall, green-haired guy...
Trisha put her hands on his, gently guiding them down to where she simply sat in her underwear, seemingly troubled, as he first saw her, afraid of being alone, clinging to a boy she hardly knew.
That was Trisha, as Blair knew her.
And then, she was naked.
One soft, autumn afternoon, Blair had never seen a real woman, naked like this. Trisha let loose a couple tears, a dry sob, and then tried to manage a smile for him. "It's okay," she said, "it's okay, please, please..."
Blair undid his pants from his hips and then tried not to look her in the eye as he eventually got around to that whole "losing his virginity" thing.
Blair could only really describe it like kissing, only much, much worse, because Trisha would not stop crying, and he had to squelch the urge to pull out and stop multiple times, to offer to attempt to comfort her and buy her a dinner and some flowers or anything, because she made him feel so bad. But she simply kept drawing out smiles from the deepest corners of misery and telling him, "It's okay, please, thank you, thank you, sir...I'm sorry, sir..." as the Ferris wheel rocked gently and depressingly in the cooling autumn evening.
Blair never did figure out that tongue-kissing thing, or how he felt about N after all, or how to even comfort a woman properly, because afterward, Blair didn't have it in him to say, "Thanks," or "Sorry," or even "You're welcome," as he scrambled to get dressed and leave as fast as he could into the darkening evening.
Blair decided that he was glad that whole virginity thing was over and done with, but he couldn't help but wonder if it was a burden he had given up, or something completely different entirely.