Chapter One

The room was filled with a thick smoke that clouded the lights above. Purple, red and green sofas with plush velvet cushions were placed in a circle, surrounding the mass of naked, writhing bodies on the floor. The walls were painted a dark blue and the floor was covered in red solo cups, used condoms and cigarette butts. The volume of the stereo blasting ear-deafening punk music leveled with the cries and moans and screams of pleasure drifting up from the ongoing orgy. The perfume-scented candles barely masked the scent of sex.

The different cliques had already separated. In one corner was the group of smokers, standing up and passing around rolled-up weed to each other, snorting coke out of their hands or tying bandages around their arms to make their veins pop, barely wincing as the needle entered. In another was the group of alcoholics who were competing against each other of who could take the most shots, drink the most bottles and then pass out in a pool of vomit and piss first. Empty beer bottles littered the floor around their feet, some broken, and the men and women alike were either half-falling off their chairs at the bar or were already on the ground out cold. The third corner was taken up by the couples proudly displaying their affection on the floor, up against the wall or on the tables. Those were the ones too afraid to join the orgy but felt enough confidence to put on their own shows.

Kurt's clique was the gamblers.

There were different times when he would partake in the other groups, but not tonight. Instead he was leaning over a pool table, at eye level with an eight ball and trying to get the perfect position with his stick. A half-finished cigarette hung between his lips and from the corner of his eye he could see another smoker leaning up against the wall staring at his ass.

Kurt smirked then shot at the ball. Nine-ball was always easy for him and the cries of distress that came up from his fellow competitors when he pocketed the ball were very satisfying. He rose up from the table, laid down his stick and grinned triumphantly at the players. He glanced over his shoulder at his admirer. Dressed in a green Linkin Park tee and pencil jeans, the man winked at Kurt. From afar, he wasn't half bad.

"Time to pay up, fellas," Kurt announced. He walked around to each competitor to collect his fifty dollars, double checking as he went. When he was finished, he pocketed the cash, thanked them for doing business with him then turned to walk away-

-and collided with a tall, hard body. Kurt looked up into the face of the guy who was checking him out. He was all angles and sharp jaw, not his type but the stubble on his chin gave him a sexy, hewn look. His face was a myriad of colors from the pulsing, strobe lights above so Kurt couldn't tell if he was a brunette or a blonde with highlights.

"Hey," he said with a deep voice. "I'm Jacob."

"Adrian," Kurt replied. It was never good to give out his name to random strangers he met at The Rig. Anyone and everyone with an ID (or a fake one, as was his case) could get in and recently serial killers and rapists were on the loose. He didn't need a mental case looking him up and tracing him home and further ruining his already upside-down life. Plus, he was still in high school. He couldn't afford to get suspended because of an insane lover following him to school and deciding to bomb the fucking place because he got rejected. With the rate the Internet was going at he wouldn’t be surprised if with a few clicks someone could find his address.

"Wanna go join them?" Jacob nudged his head in the direction of the sex circle.

Kurt grimaced. The circle was for brave, ludicrous people who weren't afraid of contracting STDs or were too drunk to think reasonably. "How about we take a couch instead?"

Jacob shrugged and threw his cigarette on the ground then mashed it with his boot. Kurt took his hand and sauntered over to one of the chaises. He pulled Jacob’s tee up and over his head to reveal a lightly-muscled body and a dark treasure trail. He made quick work of Jacob’s pants, the mad desire beginning to overtake his body. He ran his hands over Jacob’s chest and retraced the path with wet kisses, his eyes locked on Jacob’s face. He hissed in surprise when Kurt bit one of his nipples. His kisses trailed lower until he was on his knees, his tongue following the treasure trail.

His fingers shook as he unbuttoned the jeans and pulled them down then dropped Jacob’s underwear along with it, his erection springing free.

“Are you a virgin?” Kurt asked, looking up into Jacob’s dark eyes. The boy nodded, the lust in his eyes barely contained. Kurt felt emboldened by that move, suddenly empowered knowing that someone wanted him and thought he was sexy enough to fuck. It fed his ego little by little.

Jacob pushed Kurt’s head down and he eagerly took the tip into his mouth, swallowing the bit of pre-come that had gathered there. He took half of Jacob’s length in his mouth, swirling his tongue and biting lightly as he pulled back. Jacob moaned loudly and grinned when Kurt pulled up with a pop. He licked his lips and stuck out his tongue to lick a sensuous path back up Jacob’s chest. Kurt latched onto his neck and sucked and bit until he left a red mark.

Jacob tugged at Kurt’s head to look up at him, smiling. “You’re really good at this, aren’t you?” Kurt nodded and kissed him lightly on the lips, pulling back when Jacob wanted more. Kissing was too intimate for Kurt because it felt like giving a secret part of himself away to someone, worse yet a random stranger. It didn’t hurt to give a little taste, though.

Instead he took Jacob’s hands in his and directed them to his top. Jacob hastily yanked Kurt’s tee off and deftly made work of his pants. Hot, suckling kisses trailed fire across his chest, a heat that was increasingly becoming uncomfortable and needed to be taken care of. He spun Jacob around and pushed him onto the couch then straddled him. Jacob’s eyes were bright and he was breathing heavily, the desire for Kurt rolling off of him in waves and making Kurt feel so alive. The heat started at the base of his spine, flowed through his body then into his cock. He stroked his cock to get himself harder faster. A bottle of lube and a bowl of colorful condoms were conveniently placed on a nightstand next to the chaise. Kurt took a condom, ripped it open with his teeth and slid the condom on Jacob’s cock.

He popped the lube bottle open and spread them on Jacob’s fingers. Jacob gave him a confused look and Kurt had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. “You have to stretch me first.” His mouth formed a small O then his fingers found their way to Kurt’s ass. He hissed as one finger slid into him, then another and finally a third. Jacob’s fingers were stiff and he didn’t stretch him properly but he was new at this so it had to do. Kurt pulled his fingers out and rose up on his knees over Jacob’s cock.

“Hold on,” Jacob said breathily. “Turn around for me. I wanna see myself in you.” Kurt thought this incredibly sexy so he keenly turned around, bent over with his hands resting on Jacob’s knees and his ass tilted up. Jacob positioned his cock at Kurt’s entrance, grabbed his hips and slowly lowered him onto it. “Oh fuck yeah,” Jacob hissed. Kurt bit his lip as Jacob entered him, wincing at the slightly painful intrusion but pushing his ass lower all the same. When he was seated fully, Kurt rolled his hips to get accustomed to the size. Jacob groaned loudly and his fingers gripped Kurt’s hips tighter. They were definitely leaving marks.

Kurt allowed Jacob to set the pace, bouncing his ass up and down slowly at first on his cock. From the muttered words that came from his lips, Kurt knew he was admiring the view of his ass swallowing his cock from the back. He made an extra show of rolling his hips and was rewarded with a heady laugh and an “Oh fuck, do that again”.

They eventually sped up with instinct; Kurt meeting Jason’s every frenzied thrust with his own until he was crying out in heated fervor and Jacob’s cries matched his own. In half a dozen more thrusts, Kurt climaxed and exploded in hot spurts of semen, all over the chaise and some on Jacob’s legs. Jacob came soon after too, shouting Kurt’s fake name and pulled him down as deep as he could go. Strong arms wrapped around Kurt’s middle and pulled him back to a shaking, warm chest.

Jacob planted lazy kisses along his jaw and neck, rolling his hips with his body still shuddering from the climax. “That was amazing,” he whispered in Kurt’s ears. “You were amazing.”

Kurt giggled. This was the shit that he liked and craved every single day; and these were the fuckers that motivated his one night stands. He allowed Jacob a three-second cuddle before removing his arms and crawling off his lap.

“Leaving so soon, Adrian?” Jacob asked innocently.

“Yeah. I have to wake up early tomorrow morning to get to school.”

Jacob’s eyes widened. “Wait, you’re not in high school are you?”

Kurt shut his lips tight and summoned the correct words so he wouldn’t stutter and give Jacob an even better reason to be suspicious. “I’m talking about college. I have Psychology classes at 9am at OSU.”

“Oh really?” Jacob asked excitedly. “Believe it or not, I go there too! I’m just visiting some family here in Lima and then I’m heading back to Columbus next week.” Ok, pretty-boy was getting way too excited and Kurt wanted to end the lies here and now. “What brings you to Lima?”

He hadn’t thought up a quick enough lie for that question and his speech faltered. “Um…I’m…a…just visiting some friends.” He smiled forcefully. “I grew up in Lima, is what.”

Jacob remained silent for a while, sizing Kurt up. Kurt put on his tee and swept back his hair. “Maybe I’ll see you around OSU?”

“I’m dropping out actually,” he said hastily.

Jacob shook his head in understanding. “School just isn’t for you?” Kurt nodded, wishing he could do the same for high school. “Can I get your number, then?”

Kurt paused in the middle of putting on his Converse. Damn, he was an obstinate one. He stared at Jacob’s naked form in contrast to his clothed body, and Jacob’s hopeful eyes. Kurt crushed that hope like an ant. “Sorry, I don’t give my number to strangers.”

He pulled the knot on his shoe, picked up his satchel and left a crestfallen Jacob on the chaise. It hurt him a little and he had second thoughts about going over and apologizing…but that would only ruin his exit and his pride. He held his chin up and strutted away.

He suddenly remembered that he had to get some supplies so he headed over to the smoker's corner. None of them paid him any attention, too taken up floating on cloud nine. He walked over to their leader, a tall, slim Asian guy with spiky dark blue hair and an eyebrow piercing. On his forearm was a tattoo of a bulldog that winked whenever he flexed his biceps. He was busy necking a girl, the end of his bud touching her clothes without him knowing and slowly burning a hole through the fabric. His free hand was up her shirt, fondling her breasts. Kurt tapped him on the shoulder and Mike slowly peeled his tongue off the girl's neck. They called him Snake because of how strangely long his tongue was and of course the girls had a different name for him.

"What?" he growled. He pinched the girl's nipple and she squealed in surprise, but the reaction made Mike's arm jerk and the end of the cigarette touched and burned her skin. She cried out, slapped Mike's hand away then inspected the damage done.

"Look what you did!" she screamed, pointing to the hole in her top. It was pink, made of a sheer see-through material with two strips of cloth to the bottom that tied above her stomach. She was another Asian and had two navel rings. Kurt knew her but forgot her name. Trina or something. "This was my favorite top!" Mike rolled his eyes and faced Kurt.

"I don't have any more snow," Kurt said. "How much?"

Mike grinned. "One hundred a gram."

"Fuck you Mike!" Kurt spat. "Last time it was eighty a gram!"

The man shrugged. "Business is business, babe. When it starts to get harder to get, the price always goes up." Kurt let out a stream of curses but still reached into his back pocket and pulled out three Benjamins. He handed it to Mike who retreated into the sea of smokers to get it. The girl stayed there and kept staring at him.

"Fuck off," Kurt grumbled but she only smiled.

"Don't you go to McKinley?" she asked coyly. Fuck, fuck fuck! He didn't think other people from his same high school even bothered with The Rig and the only people who knew about it, as far as he guessed, were his friends who he hung with every day. It was highly suspected that McKinley students were too dumb (or coward) to come to such a place where police raids happened every other day, and preferred to go to a local bar or pub instead. Mike was the only exception, but not this girl too.

That's when he remembered her name. Tina Cohen-Chang, no relation to Mike Chang. "Well, do you?"

Thankfully, at that moment Mike returned with a brown paper bag in his hand. Kurt took it and placed it in his satchel. "Thanks," he said, then added, "And try not to raise the price again the next time."

Mike laughed at him but never promised to do anything.

On the way out Kurt grabbed a beer and lit another cigarette, then exited through the back door that lead into a dark, damp alleyway. The cold air hit his face and raised the goose bumps on his arm. The air was damp and reeked of pee and dog shit but it was better than the suffocating smoke inside.

After looking both ways, he headed out into the street with a limp. Chair sex was always painful but the pain mixed in with the pleasure was good sometimes. He made sure his money was still in his pocket as well as his cellphone. Pickpockets were famous in there. The streets were deserted at 2am save for an occasional car. The streetlights flickered on and off and the howl of the wind was the only thing to break the silence.

It took him ten minutes to get to his apartment complex and by that time he was breathing heavily and had a sudden deep hunger. He lived on the third floor and had a nice enough view of the rest of the buildings for a couple more miles. It was a one room apartment with a small kitchen, small living room and an even smaller bedroom and bath. The rent was $200 a month and the living conditions were acceptable, except for the times when there was no water or the toilet backed up, or the random cockroach decided to scurry across the floor.

He fumbled with the key in the lock as his palms had begun to dampen. Cold sweat broke out above his brow and trickled down his nose. He wiped it away impatiently. Shit, he needed to get inside and do this fast. The door finally opened and he stumbled inside, hurriedly kicking the door shut. He raced to his room, locked the door then opened the brown bag to see a clear plastic bag inside. A sigh of relief escaped him. The white powder was always a comforting sight. He untied the bag, poured out some onto his nightstand then took out a clipped straw from his drawer.

He pinched one nostril and snorted then did it for the next nostril. His body instantly filled with a rush of energy and adrenaline. Kurt fell back on the bed, his eyes rolling back into his head from the high; his body slightly twitching as it overcame his senses. The world burst into eye-blinding lights of dancing colors. He heard himself laugh out loud, or maybe it was someone outside. Nothing mattered anymore. He wasn't on cloud nine, fuck he was on cloud eleven! It was fucking fantastic.

After forty-five minutes he floated back down, but not completely. He reached into his satchel and pulled out a weed brownie. He bit into it then started taking off his clothes. Weed always helped to bring him down from the high, in case he did anything irrational. It slowed down his racing heart and relaxed the nerves that were on end.

He showered then changed into a worn tee and a pair of boxers. He shuffled to the kitchen, opening his cupboard and deflated. He only had half a box of cereal remaining. He made a mental note to buy food in the grocery tomorrow. He had one couch, a ten inch TV (cable was an extra $200, money that Kurt didn't have) and a single bed. His kitchenware was pathetic but he had no visitors anyways. Only his uncle Peter lived with him and that was because he was underage. Kurt sighed in relief at the man's heart-lifting absence and that he was away from the belittling gaze.

After he ate, he felt his brain beginning to shut down to allow him sleep. It was probably two to three hours after when he was knocked out on the couch. The next day was Sunday anyways and he was glad for the respite.

*o*o*o*

McKinley high was thirty minutes away from where Kurt lived. He was forced to take the bus as he didn't have a car and his friends lived too far away to pick him up and reach to school on time, unless they were willing to wake up at 5am. He always sat in the single seat so he could lean his head up against the window and listen to his music without disturbance. Not like if anyone wanted to sit next to him anyways. A person with three piercings in each ear, one in his left brow and dressed in all black wasn't exactly the meaning of the word approachable.

His favorite part of school was getting the time to hang out with the Skanks. His first stop was in the morning underneath the bleachers where three of them had already arrived. There was Quinn, Sheila and Ronnie and all of them were dressed in dark colors. Kurt was in a fitted black tee and dark jeans with chains tucked into combat boots. He smiled when he saw his companions and eagerly took the offered rolled up weed. Quinn lit him up.

"Sorry I couldn't make it to The Rig last night," Quinn said. "My parents actually caught me sneaking out."

Kurt took a long drag of his bud. "It's okay. I won $350 playing pool and ended up fucking a virgin." The Skanks all laughed at that. "I'm gonna buy those ripped jeans we saw in the mall."

Quinn eyed him warily. "And what about rent?" she asked. She leaned up against the pole supporting the bleachers. "You remember what happened the last time when you didn't pay on time?" Kurt cringed, the memory all too clear. He was low on cash and desperate times had called for desperate measures. Using the only thing he knew would get him quick money, Kurt had sold his body to the owner of the complex.

"Don't worry. I already have the money saved up. I'm not taking that risk ever again." The owner had demanded an entire day with Kurt's body to use whenever and wherever to his liking. At the end of the day Kurt had to half-limp, half-crawl back to his apartment, crying so hard snot was running down his nose with purple marks and red hickeys all over his body and a mixture of cum and blood staining his underwear.

He had called Quinn in hysterics, so damn afraid that he had contracted an incurable STD. Six painstaking months later he had taken the test and the results came back negative, but the trauma it caused had him doing regular checkups ever since then. He and the owner had never exchanged words once after that but Kurt always felt the skeleton hands, the cold lips and the skin-crawling tongue over his body in his nightmares. The way the owner's cock felt in him was never far from his mind either - the way he was pounded into, every thrust causing a rack of pain sent through his body, the blood smeared on his thighs...

"Stop thinking about it," Sheila said gruffly, patting him on the head. Kurt was never a huge fan of physical contact except for when it came to fifteen minute sex and they all knew that. He sat down on the Sue-provided couch and took several soothing drags of smoke. He could feel his muscles relaxing and the tension in his body disappearing. Wasn't weed legal in Ohio yet?

"Time to go bitches!" a voice yelled in alarm. The Mack was racing towards them. "Teacher coming around the corner." She sped away and the others followed. Kurt tried to get up but his head was still fogged. Quinn hauled him up from the couch and pulled him along. They ducked through the bleachers, raced across the football field, laughing and screaming, and back into the school. By the entrance they slowed to catch their breath and let out the last few laughs.

"I bet you bitches love me right now," The Mack declared breathlessly.

"You had really good timing, is all," Ronnie said. By this time Kurt was feeling better but unfortunately his weed roll had fallen out of his hand on his escape. He straightened up and looked down the crowded hallway, the lockers lined on either side. He felt the eyes following the group of heavily-breathing Skanks too but enjoyed the attention, even though they were negative. He was never going to fit in with them anyways and he didn't feel the need. He only felt like a black and white movie trying to match one with full-color. In the end, who would want such a boring, used thing anyways? Only the Skanks, apparently.

The bell's ring cracked open his skull. They were standing right beneath it so it took some seconds for the ringing to stop bouncing through his head.

"My streaks are starting to come out," Kurt said, pointing at his fading pink streaks. "Dye it at lunch?"

"Imma dye it for you babe," Sheila answered and he smiled.

"Oh and have you seen Bob lately?" he directed at Quinn. The Skanks couldn't hide their grins.

"I'll hook you up after school," Quinn replied, looking about cautiously for listeners. "Meet me tomorrow in the shed down the street." They all parted silently.

Kurt walked hurriedly to his locker, a million thoughts racing through his head. He had AP French first period and he had a feeling that the teacher would drop a pop quiz. Mondays were Ms. Wilson's favorite day for pop quizzes.

He collected his books and slammed his locker shut. About three lockers down he saw another sole figure packing his books. His brown hair was side-parted and slicked down with gel. He wore a checkered vest over a blue shirt with a small brown bow-tie and dark above-the-ankle pants. The boy looked up and to the left and their eyes met. He had kind brown eyes and he offered Kurt a hesitant smile.

Probably a new kid Kurt surmised. He looked the new kid over one last time and didn't like what he saw. He was one of them. With a sneer, he slung his bag over his shoulder and walked off in the other direction to his class.

"You're late," Ms Wilson said angrily when he walked in.

"I know," Kurt replied and took his usual seat next to Azimio. He was looking forward to cursing and insulting the huge football player so bad that he’d put sailors to shame, especially because he was in a sour mood. For what, he didn't know (it was probably the weed...) but at least he had the opportunity to take out his anger on someone.

The morning continued and as usual, he sat with the Skanks at lunch after having his streaks put in. He had chosen a brighter shade of pink and loved the staring spectators when he walked down the hall. He caught a sight of the new kid coming in and taking a seat at the table where all the Glee members sat.

"Another converted loser," Ronnie drawled. "Great job Glee. I actually thought he was kind of cute." Kurt stared at Blaine for a while. He was kind of good-looking in an innocent school boy sort of way - the kind that had huge dreams waiting to be crushed. He definitely smiled a lot and that bow-tie was a really bad choice.

"Who is he?" he asked.

"His name is Blaine Anderson," Quinn said. "He's a transfer student from Dalton's. No idea why he'd come from a prestige private school like that to a dump like McKinley, but his daddy's Antonio Anderson." She delicately chewed at a celery stick.

"The owner of that big shot law firm?" Sheila asked with her mouth full of mashed potatoes and Quinn nodded. "That's a lotta money to be wasting here. We could definitely use a guy like him with all that cash."

"Do you think we can turn him?" Ronnie inquired with a sly grin. She was always the ever eager one trying to recruit new Skank members. Her attempts had always been unsuccessful but she was persistent. "I won't mind trying."

Quinn who was the leader by an unspoken agreement shook her head. "He looks kind of gay, don't you think?" All eyes fell on Kurt.

He sighed. "My gaydar didn't really go off but now that you mentioned it, the way he dresses and that hair kinda signals something."

"Then we'll send Kurt off," The Mack spoke up after gobbling down a portion of fries. "Everyone has the potential to be gay and he doesn't seem to be the homophobic type." She raised a brow at him. "Or is he too innocent for you, babe?"

His face held no expression. "I could take him." From the few glances Kurt spared him, Blaine had seemed naive and oblivious enough on the surface. He had to hope that the Glee members had underestimated the Skanks recruiting missions and hadn't informed the new kid about their position on the social board of McKinley - the very bottom. But of course Kurt had no problem dragging people down with him. And he knew just the way how.

"I already have a plan." His smile was no short from devious.