Over the past few years, since Blaine's hormones began to kick in, he had often imagined different ways in which he might lose his virginity. Every scenario in his mind seemed like something from an epic romance movie, where he gradually fell in love with somebody, then when the time was right for them both, he would go all out on an expensive dinner, before bringing the man of his dreams home, to a house that had been covered with cute little notes and gestures. Blaine was convinced that when it happened, he would do everything in his power to make it as amazing, romantic, and memorable as possible for both himself, and the boy that he had continuously reassured himself would eventually find a way into his life.
He hadn't even considered the possibility that he might lose it like this.
Memorable was the last thing he wanted this night to be, but before it had even begun, it was clear that this was something he'd never be able to erase from his mind. The drive to the outskirts of the city was a painful one. Several times along the way, Blaine considered telling the man beside him that he had changed his mind, he wanted to leave, and that they needed to pull over. But, being able to think of no solution to his problems, other than going through with this, he remained silent, and focused on nothing but holding back the tears that were threatening to fall.
They pulled up outside a cheap looking motel, and at the sight of it, knowing that his time to reconsider was almost up, Blaine felt his heart sink even more. The man, who had said that he didn't want to reveal his name, stepped out of the car, and instructed Blaine to follow him. "Huh... so he's ashamed," Blaine thought to himself, as he nervously headed toward the doorway that the stranger had just entered. "At least I'm not the only one."
He walked inside, and before getting the chance to take a proper look at the tattered wallpaper and dusty furniture surrounding him, Blaine heard the door being locked behind him. With fear written all over his face, he turned to meet his client.
"I'm sure I'll be able to get rid of that frown once we start, Bl-... It's Blaine, isn't it?" Blaine slowly nodded and said nothing. He just wanted this to be over as soon as possible. The man wasn't particularly bad-looking, and he seemed like a relatively okay person. But that didn't matter. None of it mattered. This was wrong. Blaine wasn't sure which he was holding back more - tears or vomit. He hadn't even done anything yet, but he already felt beyond disgusting.
No. He had to leave. He couldn't do this. He - oh.
Dry lips were pressed against his own, before he had the chance to object. Blaine struggled not to cry, as he tried to push every thought of how this was his first kiss with a man to the back of his mind. He needed to stop thinking clearly. If he didn't, this would be impossible to endure. It'd be easier if-... was that... pressing up against his...?
Oh.
His stomach sank again, while he was guided backward toward the bed.
Before long, Blaine was lying on his back, after being stripped of his shirt. The man kneeled between his legs, while his lust-dimmed eyes wandered all over the younger boy's body. To say it made him feel uncomfortable would be the greatest understatement ever made. Blaine refused to make eye contact at all, and instead, alternated between keeping his gaze fixed on the walls and the bed sheets. But then, the stranger's wandering eyes were replaced by a pair of wandering hands, and he couldn't help but follow them with his frightened eyes, as they began to trail lower and lower, giving unwanted touches that Blaine wasn't proud enough to protest against.
"U-um..."
He inhaled shakily after stammering, awkwardly shifting his body slightly. His fear was met with nothing more than a quiet "Shh,"as he felt his jeans being unzipped. For the first time since before they had gotten into the car, Blaine looked directly into the man's eyes, almost desperately. He stared back, and Blaine could have sworn that he noticed the man's face momentarily fall, but he wasn't entirely sure, because as soon as he felt a cold hand begin to slide down his pants, his eyes instantly fixed themselves back on the wall.
The stranger played around with him for a while, ogling him like a piece of meat. Short whimpers of both fear and pleasure, (although it sickened him to admit the latter to himself) escaped his lips, while the man gave his length a few thoughtless strokes. It wasn't for Blaine's sake, though. It was almost as if he was examining what he was paying for.
Blaine had said it a few times in the past, but never meant it as strongly as he did now; he literally wanted to die.
Before long, both men were completely undressed, and Blaine had been instructed to get into the right position, because it was obvious that his client was getting a little impatient. Knowing that he had gone much too far to turn back, he swallowed the tiny ounce of pride that he had left, and reluctantly complied, by crawling to the edge of the bed.
Blaine had always wanted his first time to be magical. It was supposed to be with someone he loved. It was going to be a night he would never want to forget. He was going to talk about it with his boyfriend for months afterward, while they cuddled under blankets, and giggled between kisses, watching cheesy movies together. That's what he had always dreamed about.
Instead, it was the worst night of his entire life.
It was far from magical. Blaine lost his virginity while unfamiliar hands kept him bent over the side of a sleazy motel bed. It was rough, and it hurt. A lot. Instead of kisses, smiles, and "I love you"s, like he had always fantasised about, Blaine's face had remained buried in the blankets in front of him, where he cried silently, trying to drown out the sound of panting from behind him.
Although he wished for this to end over and over again, and was convinced that he would feel nothing but numbness during it, Blaine couldn't help but react, as he felt his prostate getting forcefully hit over and over again. It only took a few minutes for him to groan hoarsely, and come all over the bed sheets – and that's what sickened him more than anything. He didn't want this. It was supposed to be as quick as possible, and he didn't want his body to respond. The numbness hadn't been enough to stop him from getting aroused, even though all of this was entirely unwanted. He had never felt so ashamed of himself, and until now, he wouldn't have thought it possible to feel this low, or disgusting, or useless. But somehow, Blaine Anderson could manage to feel all of those things. Of course he could.
It didn't take long for the stranger to painfully tighten his grip on Blaine's hips and moan louder, fucking him roughly against the side of the bed, until he reached his climax and came inside of him. Blaine winced at the unfamiliar sensation, and tried to calm himself down with the knowledge that it was over, at least.
Once he had quickly gotten dressed, the man gestured to where he had left Blaine's money, trying to hide his guilt as he took one last look at the teenager now curled up on the bed, crying uncontrollably, before leaving the motel and driving away.
It still hurt. Everything that had just happened was far too rough for his first time, and Blaine couldn't sit properly. This was all wrong. Right now, he was supposed to be falling asleep in the arms of someone he was in love with. He was supposed to be blown away at how amazing the night had been, and how lucky he was to have found his perfect man. He was supposed to. But no. Blaine never got to experience any of the things that were supposed to happen. He lay still, trying to steady his breath and calm himself, but his attempts were pointless.
Later, he sat on the floor of the motel shower, hugging his knees. The dirtiness that he felt everywhere wouldn't seem to wash off. He used soap over and over again, but the smell of sex and sweat seemed to stick to him. He soon gave up trying, and choked back tears.
Seeing as the room had already been paid for, it made sense for this to be his home for the night. He crawled into bed, unable to ignore the constant reminders surrounding him that this was where everything had happened. The sounds of moaning and panting were still echoing through his mind, so, in an attempt to distract himself, and to see how late it was, Blaine pulled out his phone. "Mom (1)"was written across the screen, from a text he had received at some stage during the night.
"Honey, I know ur upset and that u need ur space, but plz let me know ur ok with a call or text. xxx"
With a sigh, Blaine shakily typed a quick reply, before switching his phone to silent, and turning onto his side, trying not to replay the night's events in his head, as he attempted to force himself to sleep.
"I'm fine, mom. Already made some friends, got a job, feeling better. In bed right now. No need to worry. Make some time for yourself and relax. Love you."
When he eventually managed to drift off, shortly before the sun rose, Blaine's eyes were swollen, his head hurt, tears were still drying on his face, and he had never, in his entire life, hated himself this much.
A certain fashion-obsessed boy will be making an appearance very soon. That is all. :)
