Pride, Privilege, and Predators
Scurrying away from the bar, he darts across the dance floor, hoping no one will notice his erection. He weaves through the sparse dance crowd and meanders into the men’s bathrooms. Urine stains the walls around the urinals. He runs into the empty middle stall and shoves his hands against the chipped blue door. It slams into the single metal hinge. He slides his long fingers over the silver lock and twists it shut. His hands tremble as he lifts his belt buckle.
The belt slides down his hips. Pushing the buckle out of his way, he sticks his hand into his boxer shorts. His dick twitches with anticipation. Blaine’s mournful eyes fill his head. Sliding his fingers down his dick, he moans and bucks into his hand. Need pools inside his stomach. His abs tighten. He leans his head against the metal wall and squeezes his cock as hard as he can.
Closing his eyes, he imagines Blaine on his knees, licking his lips in anticipation.
“That’s it, baby,” he whispers as hot liquid begins to leak out of his dick, “think you can take it?”
Blaine’s eyes widen, but he nods and opens his mouth.
“Yes,” he replies, “I want to taste you.”
Cum shoots into his hand. He coils his fingers around his cock and applies more pressure, riding out his orgasm with unbridled enthusiasm. The alcohol dulls its power. After a moment it’s gone, leaving him unsatisfied and frustrated. Blaine’s unexpected appearance gives him an opportunity. Kurt is in New York. Sebastian wipes his hands on the roll of toilet paper and shudders with lust.
The last time Blaine was in Scandals, he drank and laughed like a loon. Blaine likes to drink. The memory clings to him like a beacon of light. Blaine likes to drink. Kurt carried him out of the bar with a tight smile plastered onto his lily white face. Blaine likes to drink. Sebastian runs his tongue over his lips, trying to imagine what Blaine tastes like.
He takes a deep breath and tucks his dick back into his pants. If he could keep Blaine at the bar, he might be able to lower his defenses. They could exchange a few innocent kisses. He bites his bottom lip and unlocks the door. Jimmy would fill their glasses all night as long as they agreed to call a cab. He’d slip him a fifty for access to the hard liquor. Stepping out of the stall with a bounce in his step, he jumps backwards when he sees a hideous yellow sweater and thin rimmed glasses standing near his stall.
Sandy Ryerson leans against the wall underneath the high window.
“Looking for a pick me up tonight?” He asks as he flashes his yellow teeth and pats his pocket.
Tapping his left shoe on the tiled floor, Sebastian folds his arms across his chest and considers the older man for a moment.
“Not with you,” he remarks, “I’m busy tonight.”
Sandy rolls his eyes and sticks his hand into his pocket.
“I saw you sitting at the bar with your little friend,” he says, “and I thought you might be interested in a sale.”
He considers the offer. Blaine likes to drink. If Sandy has something useful on him tonight (and he usually does), things could go his way.
“What do you have?” He asks.
“What do you want?” Sandy asks. “I have things that can help him relax, I have things that will make him black out, and I have things that will help him---loosen his inhibitions a bit.”
Blaine likes that prissy bitch Hummel.
“He could loosen up a bit,” he replies, “but I want him to enjoy himself.”
In his dreams, he hears Blaine’s loud moans. Their bodies rock together in perfect unison. Blaine will leave Hummel once he realizes that sex can be fun. Hummel probably schedules make out sessions. He dresses like a prude. Sebastian doubts they share a stellar sex life. Blaine will beg him for more once he has him.
Sandy pulls out two tiny plastic bags from his pocket.
“I’ve got just the thing,” he says as he hands one bag to him, “I’m swimming in Mollies and you’re in luck tonight. I’ve also got Ketamine. These should do the trick.”
Sebastian eyes the bags hungrily.
“How much?”
“For you?” Sandy smiles. “I’ll give you a deal since you’re a regular buyer. A hundred flat.”
“Deal.” He says as he reaches for the wallet in his back pockets. “Combining them won’t hurt him, will it?”
Sandy watches him yank a hundred dollar bill out of his wallet and shakes his head.
“No,” he says, “just don’t give him too much at once. He’ll be fine.”
“Good,” Sebastian answers as he hands Sandy the money, “I want to fuck him, not kill him.”
The older man shoves the money into his pocket and hands the plastic bags over to him. Sebastian slides them into his pants. Sandy turns back to the sinks and waves at him.
“Have a good night,” he says with a grin on his lips, “I’ll see you later.”
“Until next time,” Sebastian replies, “I’ll be back after the holidays.”
His shoes click against the tile. The hard soles resound off of the floor. He pushes the bathroom door open and steps into loud, obnoxious dance music. A disco ball spins overhead. Square white light dances around the room. A dozen men twirl around the dance floor, laughing and bopping to the beat as they enjoy the rythym. He glides past the crowd on steady feet.
Blaine still sits on his stool, though he’s finished his beer and started on a third. Sebastian smiles at him as he approaches the bar.
“I thought you were only staying for one last drink,” he teases, “what changed your mind?”
Smiling over the white foam at the top of his glass, Blaine gestures at the dance floor and the spinning disco ball.
“I like the music,” he replies, “you’re right, it did help this time!”
He swallows a third of his beer and slaps the glass down on the bar. Blaine likes to drink. Sebastian eyes his wet lips. His dick twitches again. He needs to distract him for a second. Molly will energize Blaine. He’ll save the Ketamine for later, when they’re alone together.
Leaning over the glass, he sticks his hand in the air and points at the dance floor.
“Want to dance?” He asks. “The disco ball won’t spin forever, you know.”
Tilting his head to the right, Blaine eyes the dancers. Sebastian slips his hand into his pocket. Wrapping his fingers around the bag with the white powder inside of it, he pulls it out and cups it in his palm. Blaine looks at the disco ball and shifts his gaze to the DJ so he can watch the turntables. His lips curl into a light smile. Sebastian wants those lips wrapped around his dick. Blaine likes to drink.
He glides his fingers over the small plastic bag and peels it open. Blaine bops his head to the beat, oblivious to everything except the spinning silver ball and loud music. Sebastian raises his hands to the glass. The bag crinkles in his fingers. Blaine does not hear the soft noise. Sebastian dumps the entire bag into his glass. The white powder dissolves instantly, blending with the amber lager.
“This is a great song!” Blaine says. “I’m too sore to dance, though. I’ve been doing splits for two weeks straight. Coach Sylvester says we have to top Unique’s performance last year and I’m the only one small enough to perform them without damaging anything.”
Grinning with triumph, Sebastian slides the glass back over to Blaine.
“Aren’t you going to finish this?” He asks.
Blaine glances at the beer and reaches for it.
“Yeah,” he says as he lifts it up to his mouth, “I think I will!”
“Knock yourself out,” Sebastian remarks, “just remember, I’m buying since I owe you an entire lifetime of apologies.”
The younger teen chugs down three more beers in an hour. Sebastian buys him two shots and by midnight, they’re grinding together on the dance floor. Sweat beads across Blaine’s forehead. He spins on the balls of his feet and loses his balance four times before Sebastian drags him towards the exit. He knows Blaine can feel Molly working her magic. His green eyes dance with energy and need. Blaine likes to drink.
“I love this place!” Blaine says as Sebastian leads him into the crisp November night. “Why are we leaving? I want to dance!”
Sliding his left hand down his back, Sebastian places his palm on Blaine’s black belt.
“I think you could some fresh air,” he replies, “you’re sweating like crazy.”
Blaine licks his lips. His cock scrapes against his pants. He’s been hard for an hour. Sebastian guides him out of the club and over to his red Mercedes Benz. Music trails behind them. He hits the grey round button on his car keys. The car beeps and the lights flicker in the dark.
“It’s hot,” Blaine says, “I’m hot! Why is it so hot out here?”
“You had a lot to drink,” Sebastian answers as he opens the passenger door, “come on, I’ll drive you home.”
The younger teen stops mid-step, taking a moment to glance back at the club.
“I thought we were going back inside to dance,” he says, “I want to dance.”
Sebastian motions at the empty seat.
“Why don’t you sit down for a moment?” He suggests. “Take a breather. Then we can go back inside and dance if you want.”
Swiping the back of his hand over his forehead, Blaine nods and plops down into the waiting seat. Sebastian smiles at him and reaches for the seat belt. Yanking the black polyester material across Blaine’s chest, he buckles him into the seat and shuts the door. He jogs around the car and opens the driver’s side door. Blaine fumbles with the buckle and pushes his shaking fingers into the lock. Sebastian pulls his hand away from the red lock.
“Stop that,” he says with a gentle squeeze, “I’ll take you home, Blaine.”
“I want to go back inside,” Blaine pulls his hand away and reaches for the handle on the door, “it’s hot in here.”
Sebastian hits the automatic locks with his free hand. The locks click, shrouding them in darkness. Blaine frowns and reaches for the seat belt again. His pupils look big and wide in the pale moonlight. His lips are slick with saliva. Unable to resist the temptation any longer, Sebastian leans over the drink holders and kisses him.
Blaine squeaks in protest.
“You’re so fucking hot,” he says as he takes a quick breath of air, “sex on legs.”
Strong, wide hands press against his chest. Blaine shoves him into the steering wheel and reaches for the door handle again.
“Let me out,” he insists, “let me out, Sebastian!”
He hits the steering wheel and grunts. Blaine pulls at the door, screeching with frustration when it refuses to budge. Sebastian thrusts the keys into the ignition. Blaine lowers his hands back to the seat belt and pops the lock. The metal buckle flies free from the lock and whacks Blaine in the face. Crying out, he covers his face with his hands.
Getting hit with the buckle had to hurt. Sebastian cannot let him go yet, not when he’s so close to having him. Blaine will relax once they’re upstairs kissing and grinding against each other on his bed. Reaching over the drink holders, he grabs the metal buckle. Blaine lowers his hands and groans. Sebastian swings the seat belt at his face. The buckle hits him in the eye.
Shrieking in terror, he cowers against the door and clutches his eye. Sebastian pulls the seat belt over his chest again. The lock clicks. Blaine whimpers and moans in pain. He turns the key. The engine comes to life. He thrusts his foot against the gas pedal and peels out of the parking lot.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to hit you,” he lies as he spins the car around, “I’ll take you home.”
Blaine clutches his eye. Blood seeps over his fingers, indicating a cut on his face. He blinks and reaches for the door handle in desperation.
“Let me out,” he says, “let me out. Jesus, it’s hot in here.”
He slumps against the door and closes his eyes, finally giving into the alcohol flooding his bloodstream. Sebastian smiles as he turns on his blinker. The headlights hit dark asphalt. He turns the radio on. Music fills the car. Blaine shivers helplessly against the door.
“Don’t worry,” he says to the disabled teen, “I’ll look after you tonight, Blaine.”