Blaine stumbled out the club, feeling rather exhausted. Being fucked up against a brick-wall in a bathroom usually did that to you. It had been far to easy tonight. It wasn´t even past 11 yet. Well, it might have something to do with the fact that Blaine had quite openly exclaimed that he liked getting fucked raw. That usually made them sharks circle around you, waiting to get a piece of you. And indeed they did. Well, not all of them. Being fucked raw three times in a row is rather tough, even for him.

He pushed passed the eager people in the queue and was rewarded with a couple of angry snarls, but he ignored it. He was tired, sore and irritated. He didn´t know why though. Well, he knew why he was sore, but not why he was in such a bad mood. This wasn´t any different of what he usually did. He signed and lit a cigaret, took a deep drag and felt the calming burn sooth his raging mind. He just wanted to go home and sleep forever. He was so tired. He spun around and considered taking a cab, but changed his mind. Last time he took a cab hadn´t ended well.

"Oy, pretty boy arn´t you looking fine tonight? You for sale or what?" Blaine´s head spun around in the direction of the voice and was about to snarl something angrily at it when he noticed that the question hadn´t been directed towards him.

A thin, tall boy was leaning against the wall besides the entrance of the club, his head was bowed down making him look much like a kicked puppy. His entire body was rigid and Blaine could practically see the fear and discomfort pouring from the boy. But then he shrugged. Not my problem. He thought and was just about to walk away when the boy raised his head slightly to the side, as if searching for someone, presumably his friends, and Blaine saw a pair of clear blue eyes. They struck him, deep down in his chest and it actually felt like something had pounded right through his heart. There was something in there, in those eyes, that made Blaine´s conscience stir. He felt the strangest need to protect the boy and that made Blaine scared, because Blaine never caredfor anything or anyone.He never help or sympathized. He was a selfless bastard without feelings of remorse or guilt or empathy. He never felt anything but indifference. Except for now.

He threw the cigaret on the ground, quickly stepping on it and then proceeded towards the car in which the shouting men was inhabit in and lowered himself towards the window.

"Hey gentlemen, looking for some fun?" He said with a deep voice, barely containing the anger, but somehow managing to make it sound lust-filled and sexy seeing as the man in the car shifted his eyes at him instead, his pupils dilating. Using that voice just came naturally by now, Blaine guessed.

"Yeah, that´s what we asked doll-face over there. He seems like a real treat, don´t you think?" The man drawled, his eyes shifting to the boy again, licking his lips approvingly.

Blaine turned his head slightly to the side, pretending to look then looked at the man again,

"Oh, yeah, definatly." Blaine said and sneered. "But he stiff like a board, and not in a good way so unless you wanna fuck a dead fish, I suggest you go with someone a bit more... Willing." His voice dropped suggestively and he bit his bottom lip as he leaned in closer, making sure to expose as much skin possible and still make it seem innocent. (Enough)

It worked. The man in front of him made a flustered sound, holding his breath and his eyes went dark with lust and Blaine could practically hear the dicks stretching against the trousers of the men in the backseat, begging to be released, and to be taken care off. By Blaine.

"Ey, Peter, let´s take this one home, shall we?" A husky voice from the backseat begged and soon Blaine was pulled inside the car by a rough hand grabbing his arm.

The men immediately started going at him, rubbing his thighs and begging for him to touch them.

Blaine complied ofcourse, but before the car drove off, he managed to get once last glance at the scared boy outside. He recognized that look. He knew that fear that was playing in those eyes and even though Blaine would never admit it even as much as to himself - he was just as afraid as that boy. He always had and always will. But he kept exposing himself to the fear, because that´s what he´d been told. Face your fears. Stop being a fucking fag and stop being afraid. Anderson s are not afraid.

The old family motto. Those words hit his father right in the face when Blaine came back from that place. He faced his fears out of pure rebellion and obstinacy. Every time his father would caught him doing his "fagget-thing" he would piss him off by telling him - "I´m just doing as I´m told. I´m just facing my fears."

The face his father got was priceless and Blaine never got tired of it. So he faced his fears everywhere possible. In his room. In his parents room. In the kitchen. In the living-room. In the guestroom. In the nanny´s room. In the bathrooms, in the his father´s car, even in his father´s office had he exchanged seeds with various men.

Blaine laughed bitterly as he straddled the man sitting next to him which eagerly went at his neck and started grounding his hips at Blaine in a desperate pace while panting fiercely. The man in the front seat watched him in the mirror, keeping his gaze locked hungrily at him, probably thinking about all the things he was going to do with him. Blaine could barely see straight out of exhaustion, his body was sore and weak. The sounds and voices around him kind of went right through him and therefore not entirely registrating the way the man looked at him when giving him his beer bottle, offering him a drink. He only complied, dutifully drinking a few gulps before giving it back. He heard the man currently resident under him whispering in his ear.

"Soon there, I live just round the corner."

How conviniet, Blaine wanted to huff, but held his tounge. But it really was. Living this close to the bar and the street known for crawling with willing people. Or people in desperat need of money. Either way – it was a place that was easy to get hooked up on.

And now Blaine was hooked. Captured in the claws of the horny men around him. Trapped in his mind as his body grew wary and slow. He slowly turned his head towards the man in the front seat. Eying the beer bottle he had drunken from minutes ago. Ofcoruse. He should have known. Jumping into a car with some random men looking for a hooker. Ofcourse they would drug him senseless. Maybe he should be grateful. That meant he would feel less but also that the men didn´t intend to make him fight his way out of it in some kind of sick fetish-rape-game. Now he just had to lie there and take it. Granted he would probably be pretty worn out during the whole thing, and afterwards no doubt. But he couldn´t find enough motivation to care. He gave in to the fogginess and let the drug consume his body, trapping himself in his mind. Like he was watching from the inside of his head. Watching his own body moving by itself, but whenever he would think that he needed to get out of there. Thinking – stand up, lift your legs ans stand up, his limps would betray him, they would lie there numbly, jeering at him, mocking him for his ignorance and stupidity.

But then it was over. And he found himself remotely less numb and inhabitant in the same car as before, though driving back where he was picked up. He felt sick. His whole body hurt and his head was about to burst. He snapped his head to the driver, anger flaring up inside him.

"W-w-w-hat the hell!? " He mumbled, his tongue still feeling slightly out of order. And his mind frantically working against him making his words heavy and blurred together.

"Llllet me out! Fucking... fucking..." He stuttered, forcing his lips to form the right words.

"FUCKING ASSHOLE!" He finally screamed.

The man laughed at him in the front seat, jeering at him through the mirror making Blaine snarl agrinly in response.

"You didn´t have to... D-drug me. Fu-fucking... C-c-co... COCKHEAD!" He closed his eyes, trying to get his brain to cooperate. He manage to get his arm to function enough to reach the door handle. With a tug that took his entire body strength he manage to get it open, making the driver hit the brakes rapidly. Blaine loosened his seat belt, and stumbled out the car with the little body strength he had left. He raised his head, noticing he was back at the same street he had left from. At least the fuckers had had decency enough to drop him off too. That was the least they could do after druging him up and fucking him up repeatedly. Fuckers. He signed. How the hell did he end up like this again. Oh right. Now he remembered. He was being noble for once. Playing the good guy always make you end up in some fucked up situation. Well, fuck this. This was the last time he would ever do anything nice ever again. This is was you get for having a conscience.

He laughed bitterly as he remembered the boy he had saved. Blue eyes. He huffed. He had always been a sucker for blue eyes.