I've had this plot bunny for the longest time, and I finally wrote it down. I always wondered what would happen if they had gone further after the gay bar, and so here is my fic.
Used
Blaine kept kissing him, his hands scratching up Kurt's back underneath his shirt, his tongue tangling with Kurt's as he kissed back on instinct before he pulled away, determined not to sink into his boyfriend because Blaine was insanely drunk and all over him and he didn't want their first time to be on the least romantic night they'd ever spent together - and that included their Fourth of July party in Puck's back yard when Santana had gotten much too drunk and spent the night alternating between throwing up into the browning dry grass and crying hysterically, Kurt being the only one willing to put an arm around her and offer sober comfort.
"Oh, oh Kurt," Blaine groaned, pressing his hips up into Kurt's hand, his lips finding all the sensitive spots he knew on Kurt's neck and attacking the skin in a mess of tongue and lips and teeth. "You feel so good, babe, I want you so much right now."
"Blaine, you have to stop, I'm not letting you do this right now," Kurt insisted, his eyes sliding shut involuntarily, tipping his head back instinctively to allow Blaine to nip at that sweet spot under his jaw, the nails of one hand digging into Kurt's back while the other trailed across his hip, "because you're really drunk and I- ohh." He groaned low in his throat as Blaine cupped him through his jeans. "Blaine, don't do that, oh God."
"Tell me you want me," Blaine growled, slipping the tips of his fingers into Kurt's waistband. "Tell me you don't want me to stop. Tell me you need this right now. Tell me you need me right now."
"Blaine, don't s-stop," Kurt whispered falteringly, no longer possessing the mental capabilities to go through with his original intention. Blaine took this as a cue, unzipping Kurt and taking him in his hand for the first time.
It wasn't slow, or sweet, or warm, or tender. It wasn't as Kurt had imagined his first time to be. Despite what films with overly-clichéd plots and stories with happy fairytale endings had always convinced him of, the back seat of his car was cold and the leather was uncomfortable against sweat-slick skin. The car pitched and rolled like a ship on the high seas and the seconds trickled past like grains of sand through an hourglass. He heard a breath of his name, a soft kiss behind his ear and Blaine slumped on top of him, crying his release into the stifling air. Kurt followed him into white-flash heaven a moment later, ears ringing, but he didn't feel any different. He didn't feel a glow coming on, nor did his heart seem to swell in his chest the way it always did when he and Blaine kissed, and surely it should be twice, thrice as potent after the first time they'd done anything so sexual together. If anything, he felt…cheap.
They didn't speak as Kurt climbed into the driver's seat and drove slowly down dark roads to Blaine's house. He had to brake sharply fifteen minutes from the house at choked-off groans from Blaine and help his boyfriend climb out to throw up onto the verge. He went through the motions of slowly rubbing Blaine's back until he was done, cooing soothingly as he supported him back to lay down on the leather and helping him sip a few scant mouthfuls of water from the bottle tucked beneath the passenger seat, but he couldn't bring himself to place a comforting kiss to his cheek or temple, the way he usually would.
"Thank you for giving me a ride home," Blaine said quietly as he climbed out and stumbled round to Kurt's open window. It should've been Kurt's first hint that all was not right between them, because there was never any awkwardness like this between them, and there hadn't been since the early days of his crush and their many stupid little spats.
"It was no trouble," he murmured, avoiding Blaine's eyes and fiddling with his rear-view mirror. "You take care of yourself. I'll see you tomorrow at school." He didn't lean out of the open window to kiss Blaine, as had become their clichéd little routine. Instead he offered the younger boy a tight smile before driving away.
Sleep didn't come easily. He couldn't shake off what seemed like a layer of dirt clinging to his skin, making him shudder uncomfortably all through the night. He felt awful for feeling so awful, because it wasn't supposed to feel this way, it was supposed to be ecstatic and amazing and make him float away and feel more in love than ever before. But he felt dirty.
He stumbled to school, determined to function on snatches of sleep here and there with the aid of copious amounts of coffee. Thank God that Blaine looked far worse than he did, hair unstyled and clothes clearly haphazardly chosen and creased wildly, eyes hidden behind dark glasses. In frozen early November. It kept the attention away from his clear lack of sleep, and no one would assume that it was their fault they both looked so terrible. Only Mercedes noticed the death grip he kept on his cup of coffee and gave him one of her reprimanding maternal looks, clearly disapproving of his obvious sleeping troubles.
"What's wrong, hon?" she asked quietly during their shared lunch period. Kurt barely picked at his chicken, pushing the food around the plate like a child determined to make it look like they'd eaten enough to be rewarded with chocolate cake and too-rich ice-cream. "You've been mopey all day, and you were so cheerful when I talked to you last night. Date with Blaine not go well?"
"Curse you and your stupid sixth sense for dating woes," Kurt groaned, clanging his fork onto his plate and attracting the attention of a few girls wandering past, who all hurried away far quicker than strictly necessary. "It didn't go well, at least not from my point of view. Sebastian probably thinks it went fine."
"Whoa-whoa, hon, back up," Mercedes ordered, holding up a hand to stop him. "Who's Sebastian? Is that the prep-school jerk that's brainwashed all your old friends and decided he wants Blaine for him? I hate him."
Kurt laughed derisively at that, and proceeded to tell the girl who was still his closest friend, and had remained so through everything, the worst points of his devastatingly terrible night. Mercedes watched him with a sympathetic little smile, squeezed his hand in reassurance when his voice cracked and magically produced tissues from her pockets when he started crying, glaring daggers at anyone who dared to so much as glance sideways at them.
"God, I'm sorry, I'm such a mess," Kurt whispered between quiet muffled sobs, dabbing helplessly at his eyes. "I just love him so much and yes, I was thinking about telling him I'm ready, but I just feel like he used me to get off last night and I never wanted that. I wanted our first time to be perfect and beautiful, but instead it was…well, that."
"Well, your little story explains so much," Mercedes said thoughtfully, pulling an entire box of tissues from her bag and pushing them across the table to Kurt. "Like why you look like a hot mess and why Blaine's wearing sunglasses when it's practically winter. Hon, do you want to, like, break up with him or something?"
"God, no, I don't ever want to break up with Blaine," Kurt answered instantly. Even the way Blaine had made him feel used and cheap couldn't stem the knowing that it would break his heart as much as Blaine's to break them up. "But I don't know how to talk to him about the way he made me feel when he did that. He probably just thinks I liked it, it wasn't like I…um…gave any indication I wasn't enjoying myself."
Mercedes laughed and stretched across the table to ruffle his hair affectionately. "Oh Christ, you really did not find the energy to style your hair this morning," she observed, running her hand through his hair over and over again until he slapped her away. "And I have to say, hon, that is the best euphemism I've ever heard and Santana and I maintain a share and share alike sort of friendship." She looked over to the doorway and checked her watch. "Quinn and Blaine have the same lunch period, and they let out in ten minutes. If you want to whisk your boyfriend away and have a cosy little couple-y chat about this bump in the road, I'll cover for you. Although I'm pretty sure Finn's considering marching you to a doctor because I always say you have a migraine when you disappear."
"Say I threw up on someone's shoes again, he'll just get grossed out and agree with you that I should've gone home," Kurt advised, pushing his plate away, stomach jerking with misery even as he managed a wobbly smile for the girl. "Thanks, 'Cedes. You're a great friend."
"I aim to be fabulous," Mercedes replied haughtily with a wide grin. "And the puking on shoes thing…do that a lot, do you?" She winked and descended into giggles, and Kurt managed to crack a genuine smile. It was small, but it was there and he felt better than he really had since agreeing to Sebastian's idea of the gay bar visit.
"Finn's been pretty wary of me when I'm sick since I got stomach flu around Easter and vomited water all over him when he tried to help," he explained with another soft smile. "I better go wait for Blaine, I'm willing to bet he didn't take those hangover pills I left with his sister even though I told her to make sure he did."
Mercedes smiled and waved him away as he navigated the corridors to wait outside the History classroom, shocking himself with the knowledge that he knew Blaine's timetable as well as his own. The bell rang loudly, jarring him to the very bone, and floods of students coursed past him towards the cafeteria. He waited patiently, knocked from all sides by those desperate for food, and grabbed Blaine by the elbow the moment he saw him, pulling him away from the crowds. "Here's how this is going to work," he murmured, conscious of the gazes of other students burning into them. "You're going to text someone and get them to cover for you, we're going back to your place because I know your parents are still away until Monday and your sister is in school, and we are going to talk about what happened last night."
Blaine nodded and Kurt took his hand and practically dragged him out of the school, shoving him into his car and driving away with a death-grip on the steering. "And take off those damn sunglasses," he snapped irritably as Blaine fidgeted next to him. "It's November, Blaine, and it's not exactly subtle."
"My head hurts," Blaine moaned, but he slid the glasses off anyway and threw them into the backseat, tipping his forehead against the cool glass of the window. Kurt felt a twinge of sympathy then, which only served to irritate him more because he wanted to sit Blaine down and make him see that he couldn't go around just using him for sex all the time, but like it or not this was his boyfriend who he was in love with.
"Honey, it's okay, I gave Natalie pills to help that, I'll give them to you when we get to your house," Kurt murmured, beating down his frustration and anger to shoot a reassuring smile to his boyfriend. "It won't take long now. We can have a proper talk if your head's clear."
A half-hour later found them curled up at opposite ends of the sofa in Blaine's bedroom, Blaine having just taken the pills and already looking noticeably less pained, but looking at Kurt with enormous sad eyes, looking so apologetic and ashamed of himself Kurt nearly cracked and simply took Blaine in his arms to kiss the sadness away. But no, he was on a mission, and that mission was to make Blaine see what he had done wasn't right.
"Blaine, I don't like what you did to me last night," he said firmly. "And I know what you're going to say and yes, I know I came too, but just because I enjoyed it physically doesn't mean I was happy with that emotionally. I told you, I want our first time to be special and beautiful and romantic, and awkward fumbling in the backseat of my car after the most awkward evening in the world with Sebastian at that stupid gay bar isn't special or beautiful or romantic. To be honest, Blaine, you made me feel kind of…cheap. And used. Like you used me just to get off, like I'm some sort of whore you can just pick up and then kick to the kerb."
"Oh God, Kurt, no, never, I would never just use you and kick you to the kerb," Blaine promised, taking his hands and forcing Kurt to look into his face and know that he meant every word. "I am so, so sorry and that happening was not the reason I took you out last night. I wanted to make it as romantic as a date like that could be, but instead I just ruined everything and I practically had sex with you against your will and I wouldn't be surprised if you broke up with me right now. It's what I deserve."
"Oh Blaine, I'm not going to break up with you," Kurt whispered, squeezing Blaine's hands in reassurance. "I would've pushed you away if I really didn't want that, you're kind of floppy and weak when you're drunk, and I did tell you not to stop when you touched me. And, while what we did does fall under the definition of sex, it wasn't anywhere near as intimate and loving as some things could be."
"I just want you to forget any of last night ever happened," Blaine begged, a tear trickling down his cheek. "And, when the time comes, we'll have a first time do-over and it'll be on your terms and you'll be in control and I will do everything I can to pay attention to you and give you what you want instead of just doing stupid stuff because I want it."
"Don't cry," Kurt murmured, wiping the tear away with his thumb. "We're not breaking up. This doesn't change how I feel about you. We're all right, okay. We're not breaking up, I promise."
"I love you so much, and I'm so sorry." Blaine wrapped his arms around him, pulled him in close, and Kurt let him, fell into the strong embrace he knew so well, lowering them gently down onto bed and curling into this boy, who knew him inside and out and carried him through the seasons of his life. With time, he could forgive Blaine.
After all, it was widely known that the course of true love never did run smooth.
Hope you enjoyed, and please let me know if you did :)