I am so sorry I haven't updated Nicotine in such a long time, but I have given up on it. I may start it again instead. But instead here is a fic I actually plan to finish.

I do NOT own anything.


Blaine sat in silence by his window, letting the smoke from his lungs billow out. His house smelt of weed 99% of the time anyways so he was aloud to smoke inside. Unless there was a party, if he was caught smoking then his father would scold him by burning the joint on his arm. Blaine closed his eyes, the memorable pain going through his body.

Blaine Anderson lived in a very hostile household, with a depressed mother, a brother off at college and an abusive father. Blaine remembered when the abuse had started. He would waddle out of his room, 7 years old and oblivious, looking blearily up at his mother seeing hair missing and bruises on the side of her face. She would assure him it was just daddy showing how much he loved her. Once Blaine got old enough for his dad to hit him it was happening almost every night. Andy Anderson would scream at Blaine and call him fag, a long list of other names as well. After a while all the other Anderson's got used to it and didn't even try to step in to stop it. When Blaine turned 13 and told his family that we was gay. His mum didn't care, his brother laughed and went upstairs ruffling Blaine's head on the way out, they acted better than expected. His dad on the other hand, he was furious, if there was something worse than furious, that's what he was. He was throwing things, yelling profanities, he was acting like a bull. Blaine tried to keep his distance, but his dad came storming up to him, taking his collar and pushing him up onto the wall. The last thing Blaine remembered from that night was his father's fist about to collide with his face. Blaine woke up in a hospital a few days later, the machines beeping and his mother looking down at him pitifully.

After a few years of taking the abuse Blaine finally got out of there, he went to live with his uncle, Simon Anderson. He wasn't that much better but the abuse had stopped. Blaine felt awful that he had left his mum with that monster, but it was for him. He was not safe there. When Blaine was 15 he got a call, it was his dad, he was just calling to tell him that his mum had died in a "freak accident". Anne Anderson had fallen down the stairs and broken her head open. Andy convinced Simon to give Blaine up, that he was a changed man. Blaine was terrified, since Cooper had gone off to college, that meant it was just him and his dad in the house. But when Blaine got there, a little girl that looked around 2 or 3 was sitting on the floor. Blaine's heart dropped, because the little girl looked exactly like his mum.

The day of his mother's funeral was heart wrenching, Blaine felt so guilty not being there for his mother. There were a few familiar faces, but most the people he did not know. As he was scanning people around his mother's coffin his eye caught on a seemingly odd family, there was the tall dad who was bald, and the small pasty boy next to him. He reminded Blaine of one of those porcelain dolls. Blaine was entranced by his face. After the funeral everyone came back to the Anderson's huge mansion up in Westerville to have a mourn party. The boy and his dad stayed for a bit, but Blaine's dad didn't seem to happy with them coming, so they left after the first hour.

A year had gone by and Andrea (Blaine's little sister) just turned 3, Blaine really wanted to celebrate it with her, but he couldn't even get himself out of bed. He just lay there, old bruises fading, aching limbs and a tired mind. One night when he was sitting at the foot of his bed, bottles strewn around, wasted as one could be. Andrea snuck in, crawling over to Blaine and climbing into Blaine's lap. He didn't have the power to tell Andrea to get out so he just wrapped her up in his limp bony arms and kissed the top of her head, looking up and trying not to cry.


Kurt's brown and pink haired head hit the foot of his bed as he snorted back the drug, he felt up his arms the scars bringing back horrible memories. Of his mother's dead body in her coffin, getting pushed around in middle school, being in Glee club for the first year of high school, his dad's disappointed face, his dad's emotionless face in a hospital bed.

Kurt was 3 when he remembered asking for a pair of sensible heels, he got them obviously. Elizabeth and Burt Hummel knew their son was a bit flamboyant but they didn't care. Their son was who he was and they would support him through thick and thin. Kurt remembers loving the prince instead of the princess. Thinking Finn Hudson was attractive instead of Quinn Fabray. He hardly remembers the nights he would sit in his bathroom trying to stop from losing too much blood. Then in freshman he was jumped by the football team, they broke 3 of Kurt's ribs and his eye socket cracked. Kurt was in the hospital for a few weeks so his wounds could heal. When his dad thought he was asleep Kurt heard him whispering things, like, 'if your mother was here, this wouldn't have happened.' Always blaming himself, and not Kurt. He also remembered his dads pitying eyes looking down on him.

That summer he joined the "wrong crowd" as his father would say. Parties, drugs, piercings and tattoos.

He died his bangs a hot pink, his eyebrow was pierced and so was his lip. Kurt would get would get asked if he was gay almost everyday, everytime this happened the person would end up with a black eye, or a bruised stomach. Kurt started getting angrier and angrier towards his feelings he had towards guys and just pushed them away. This ended in him having rage fits, getting angry at his dad. Coming home with bruised knuckles. And having one night stands with girls.

He sat on his couch, girlfriend Quinn Fabray on top of him, his hands in her pink cropped hair. But this is not where he wanted to be. He remembered that gorgeous boy from the funeral, his soft honey eyes that were tear drowned. If Kurt remembered correctly that was his mum's funeral. Kurt felt Quinn's tongue tease his mouth and he finally remembered where he was supposed to be.


Kurt Hummel walked down the street his sleeves rolled up showing off his yellow warbler tattoos covering up the scars on his form arm. The black skinny jeans making him swelter in the sun, his black combat boots not helping at all. He turned a corner and felt a body clash with his, something cold and liquid fell all over him. Kurt grabbed whoever it was tshirt by the collar and pushed them up against the alley wall.

"Watch where you're going, dipshit." Kurt growled out, he shook his wet hair out of his eyes. The boy in front of him wasn't menacing at all, he also didn't look like he dropped his, Kurt smelt his shirt, iced mocha on him on purpose.

"I am so so sorry!" The well put together boy stuttered out, his hands going up. Kurt looked down, he chuckled a bit when saw the boys feet weren't touching the ground. He put the boy down and squinted at him.

"Blaine Anderson." Blaine stated enthusiastically, Kurt eyed him up, he tried not to think about how attractive this quirky boy was.

"Uh, Hummel." Kurt replied, his voice small and deep.

"Do you have a first name?" Blaine asked, he tried to find Kurt's eyes but the taller boy just adverted them.

They both stood there in silence for a minute, Kurt sopping wet from Blaine's iced mocha.

"I can buy you a new shirt if you want." Blaine told Kurt, the pale boy looked up at Blaine as if he had a trunk.

"Can it rich boy. I don't want your pity. I was just heading home anyways." Kurt mumbled, and turned on his heel.

Blaine eyed him suspiciously, there were two things off about the boy, 1) was that he could have sworn he recognised him from somewhere and 2) he was most definitely turning into that alley for drugs. Blaine knew this because he was just getting some himself. Blaine just shook his head and went on the search of a garbage.


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The next chapter will be up as soon as I can write it, this week is quite busy. But I'll try to have it at least by then end of this week.

-Rowan