Shelter [Sterek] BoyxBoy

Chapter 3

Chapter Three:

    Curled up in a pathetic ball, Stiles whimpered. He’s been doing this for the past three hours. Just crying and drowning in his tears. He doesn’t care though. His emotions were now far from embarrassed. Stiles felt humiliated. He practically spilled his heart out to Derek but to only to have it rudely broken. He had told him everything even when he didn’t want to. But he wanted to be honest with him because that’s one of the most important things to build a strong relationship. To be honest as you can be.

   Stiles was foolish to think Derek would dare like him back. He should have seen it coming anyway. The months of avoiding and the severe lack of phone calls were a huge indication that something was up. But silly Stiles didn’t listen. No, he didn’t want to listen. He wanted to ignore those warnings no matter how true they seemed. But they were and that’s why he was like this.

   He felt like one of those dumb girls in a romantic movie. He groaned. He rolled over to his side, stuffing his face in the surface of his pillow. The image of the red headed girl then appeared in Stiles mind. He double groaned at this. He wasn’t in the mood to be thinking about that slutty bitch. The way she kissed Derek and stared at him, instantly made Stiles blood boil. He couldn’t help it. She was much prettier than he was and definitely more experienced in the sex department.

   Stiles knew that Derek wasn’t a virgin. I mean look at him. He was stunningly handsome, stubborn as hell but nevertheless handsome. He probably had girls every week asking him out and dying to get in his pants. Stiles couldn’t blame them because he would be one of those girls. To spend just one night with Derek would be a dream come true for Stiles. But at this rate his dream will never become reality.

   The harsh reality is that Derek doesn’t want Stiles. Instead, he wants some hoe that looks like she’s on all kinds of drugs. Huffing, Stiles bit his lips. His feelings were starting to take its toll on him. For him, depression was just around the corner. He had to fight it back, to resist it. But why should he? Yes, pain hurts but it doesn’t betray you. It doesn’t judge you…just inflicts its pain on you until your suffering.

   Stiles didn’t want to suffer but what other choice did he have? He couldn’t talk to his dad about it. He’s always working and is never good at having discussions with his son. There’s Scott but Stiles and him haven’t really talked in ages. There’s only one person left and that’s Danny. Stiles snorted at this. Not a snowball’s chance in hell, would Stiles talk to Danny again. He made that very clear to him three months ago. Plus, he would look stupid running back to him.

   No.

  Stiles could figure this out on his own. Or can he? He chattered his teeth together as morbid thought came to him. He sat quickly up and wiped his teary eyes. His shaky palms then reached inside his bedside table. He withdrew a small pocket knife that he borrowed from Scott. He stared at it tentatively, wondering what he was doing.

  In a swift motion, he flipped the blade open. The silver gleamed in the small light of his bedroom. He ran his finger across the teeth of the blade. He winced when he cut himself. A burning sensation met his finger but it soon vanished.

   Stiles looked perplexed. Yes, it had hurt but underneath the pain was a bit of pleasure. Control. Stiles rolled his sleeves up and placed the knife on his inner wrist. He closed his eyes not sure if he could do this right. He had heard plenty of times before of people cutting but wasn’t sure on the proper way. He’d figure if he doesn’t rupture a vein, he’ll be alright. Stiles decided to test this theory.

    Lightly he pressed down on the blade. There was a moment of stinging and Stiles ran the knife across in an angular motion. When he was done, he looked at it. It was a tiny cut about four inches in diameter. He smiled as the wound bled a little. The pain was gone and he needed more of it.

    Just one more he thought and cutted again.

     But one more turned into fifteen more. By the time Stiles was done he was shocked. Red lines littered his pale wrist. The good thing is that they weren’t large or deep. They were almost like cat scratches but a bit more violent. Stiles sighed and he snapped the blade of the knife shut. His heart was speeding at the speed of light. A sheen of sweat mattered his hair and chest. His adrenaline was pumping wildly.

   Cutting gave him a sweet high, none like no other. For second, he wasn’t burdened with his thoughts of the girl, Derek and his rejection. He was happy that for once in his life he took control. Took control of his pain. He controlled it.

   Not Derek.

   Not fucking Danny or anybody else.

   Just Stiles.

  This gave him power and a newfound strength that he didn’t know he had. He smiled drunkingly. Stiles then realized that he didn’t need Derek to get through this pain. He only needed himself and…

  “….the knife” he said twisting the object around in his hands.  

A/N: Hey guys! Sorry I didn’t update sooner. I was sick as a dog. My temperature was a 104 and I had to go to the ER. I’m a little better now but still feel awful. I’ll try to update when I can. In the meantime, please vote for Sterek. We’re now against Wincest. I’ll post the link below for you guys.

 

http://www.thebacklot.com/ultimate-slash-madness-final-four/08/2013/