Finally moving my Christmas fills here.
Blaine walked into a bar.
It was his 16th birthday. There was a party planned for the weekend, but his parents were out of town until Friday, and Cooper was still in L.A. That left Blaine alone in his empty house on his birthday, with nothing but his thoughts for company.
"Think of this as an opportunity! You can go out and meet someone who isn't me or Wes. It'll be good for you!" Nick had said, when he told Blaine at school he was bailing on their Avengers marathon.
"Go out. By myself. Alone. How does that sound fun?" Blaine asked.
"Well," Nick deliberated. "You might meet someone."
And that was how Blaine wound up at The Closet.
Blaine looked around nervously. There were a lot people at the club, most of them somewhere between elderly and decrepit. It made him wonder exactly how his brand-new fake ID had managed to get him into the place. He had not expected other highschoolers, but was everyone supposed to be so old?
Maybe he should leave.
Stop being pathetic, Blaine. It only feels like everyone is staring.
Blaine made his way to the bar, figuring he might as well have some liquid courage, and shoved his way between two groups so he could speak to the bartender.
"What can I get you?" the bartender asked, just as Blaine leaned gingerly against the counter.
Blaine blinked. There were people who had obviously been waiting for a drink; he could see them eyeballing him.
"Shouldn't —" he started.
"Get him a cock sucking cowboy," someone said.
Blaine went bright red in about five seconds. He sputtered. "N-no!" and whipped his head around to see a man, probably in his early 30s, staring down at him. His eyes were dark and hungry. "That's really alright! Um, just a rum and coke, please." Blaine spat out the first drink he could think of, his mother's standard.
The man laughed. "I'm Roger," he said. "You sure you don't want that cock-sucking cowboy? With lips like yours …."
"I'm sure!" Blaine squeaked. "Oh, thank you," he told the bartender, who slid the drink into place in front of him. He paid for the drink and gulped it down. "I'm going to go dance," he announced, backing away from Roger.
"Great!" said Roger. "I'll dance with you."
"That's really okay," Blaine said, sliding through the crowd to get to the dance floor. For the first time in his life, he was grateful for being small. The crowd swallowed him easily.
Thursday nights at The Closet were always hit or miss. Most time there was absolutely no one worth a handjob, much less a conversation. Other nights, Sebastian would see someone he had to have, either in his bed or in the backseat of his car. Sebastian was not picky.
Tonight looked to be headed for the former. There were a lot people Sebastian had already fucked and even more people Sebastian would never fuck. He was about ready to call it a night when the prettiest thing he'd seen in years walked in the front door.
It was possible his jaw dropped.
The kid was young, young enough for Sebastian to call him a kid, at least. He had dark curls and a mouth begging to be used. It was hard to tell in the dark of the club, but Sebastian thought he was small and compact. Small dark and handsome walked over to the bar revealing an ass you could bounce a quarter off in skintight jeans. Sebastian whimpered.
He was strongly tempted to go over to the boy, but something about the shape his jaw and the width of his shoulders suggested that the newcomer was towing the underage line, if he managed to cross it at all. Sebastian watched from his table, nursing his beer and wishing that walking over and talking to the pretty boy would not make him feel like a creeper.
Time passed. Sebastian, who should have gone onto the dance floor or gone from the club entirely, continued to watch as the boy gathered quite the crowd of men. He took a devastating turn on the dance floor, where he was met with an assortment of partners that spread the entire population of the club. He went back to the bar and his paramours practically fell all over each other trying to buy him drinks. Sebastian idly considered going over there and bringing up the fact that one phone call would land all of them in jail. He continued to watch.
"He's smoking hot isn't he?"
Sebastian looked up over to see Carter had decided to sit at his table. "Why are you here?" Sebastian asked." Aren't you supposed to be in jail"
Carter put his hand over his heart. "I'm hurt," he said. "It's been months, Sebby. Haven't you missed me?"
"Like a dog misses fleas." Sebastian took a rather large gulp of his beer, hoping Carter would take the hint and go away.
"Well," Carter said, and stood and stretched. "If you aren't going to be any fun tonight, maybe I'll go see what all the fuss is about. He does have a nice ass." The other man meandered toward the bar, where the kid was trying to decline what appeared to be every single mixed drink the bartender knew how to make.
Sebastian scowled. Carter was a jerk and douchebag even Sebastian had a problem with. He had also been kicked out of The Closet for harassing the staff. It had been a pleasant two months without him. But even Carter, a man who actually wore Axe body spray, must have better sense than to harass an obviously underage boy.
He was wrong.
It was a little overwhelming to have so many men surrounding him, buying him drinks. Blaine had wanted a break from dancing, and feeling like he was being passed from partner to partner with no say of his own. Many of the men he danced with had followed him back to the bar and he found himself drowning in alcohol. Maybe it was time to go. Maybe this had been a bad idea. Obviously, Nick had no idea what went on in gay bars.
"Give him some room, people!" A new man was forcing his way up to Blaine. He was older than many of the other people at the bar, with cold eyes of an indeterminate color and a smile that put Blaine on edge. "You should have some water." The men signaled for the bartender to bring Blaine a glass.
Blaine slid farther back on his barstool, but only accomplished bruising himself on the bar. "I-I'm okay, I already have some water." He gestured at the single water bottle amidst this sea of brightly colored drinks. It was a little incongruous and made Blaine think of coffee shops and hipster photographs. He could probably get a lot of money for this shot.
"If you're planning a drinking all these," said the man, "you're going to need more than one bottle of water." He added, "I'm Carter, by the way."
Blaine said, "Oh, I'm not drinking all of these."
"Which ones are you going to drink?" Roger asked, still hovering nearby.
Blaine looked helplessly down at the drinks. He wished Nick were here, or Wes, or anyone, really, who he actually knew, instead of this horde of pushy men.
"Why don't we take some of them to a table," Carter suggested, grabbing up a couple drinks in one hand, and reaching out for Blaine with his other.
"Oh," Blaine protested. He tried to back away but there was nowhere else to go.
"Fuck off, Carter," a brand-new voice said. "You'll get yourself thrown out again, and this time they might call the cops."
Blaine looked around and found the new person with a lanky brunette with a sharp smile and sharper eyes. The brunette said, "You shouldn't actually drink any of these. How old are you, anyway? Are you even legal?"
All of a sudden, the crowd around Blaine began to mutter.
"Yes," said Blaine. "I'm 21, today."
"Right. I don't actually believe you." The brunette gestured toward one of the tables in the back. "Why don't we go back there and talk and you can explain to me why I shouldn't put you in a cab immediately."
A cab did not sound all that bad, actually, but there was something intriguing about the way the tall man effortlessly took control of the situation. Blaine deliberated, and then said, "I don't even know your name."
The man paused, glancing back at Blaine with amusement parting his lips. "My name? You're worried about my name?" He looked meaningfully at the crowd around them, and the drinks that covered half the bar, and raised an incredulous eyebrow.
Blaine set his chin stubbornly. "Yes."
"Sebastian Smythe," the man said, grinning. "And you?"
"Blaine," Blaine said, finally starting after Sebastian.
"Well, Blaine," Sebastian said. "It's nice to meet you."
Based on the Christmas Prompt: Blaine is a sixteen years old, who even if he's living in a city (Boston maybe) with his parents, is a sweet and naive boy but for his sixteen birthday he decided to get a fake ID and go to his first bar/club, he gets in but he's kind of lost. Sebastian is here with is friends, of course he notices this guy that he had never seen here before and observes Blaine from afar. Sebastian is not this only guy who got is eyes on Blaine and some of the guys are pushy and don't take no as an answer. Sebastian is annoy and gets all protective …