Completely No Pity At All
thenumber24
WARNINGS: Angus, Hurt/Comfort, One-sided Romance. Mentions of sex. As well as M/M - Boy/Boy - Gay Romanic. Bashing. And swearing.
Post 0306
Although his eyes were on fire with tiredness, Stiles somehow knew that he needed to see for himself that Derek was indeed alive. Ethan, both of them, weren't exactly someone to trust being their prime enemies right now and may or may not be going around killing innocent people. So when the bus arrives at the school, he shook off the wobbliness in his legs and headed for his jeep. The ladies were grabbing a ride from Chris, and Scott had assured him that he was stable enough to take his motorbike home, as for Isaac and Boyd, they had said they would be home shortly.
As he pulled onto the road that led to Derek's loft, a sheer crack of thunder sounded overhead in the night sky, lighting it up like the fourth of July, and rain poured down. Stiles sighed and turned on his windshield wipers to high, as he leaned forward in his seat to see out it better. It was dark, the street lights didn't go this far out of the main road, so the only available light was from his high beams and lightening from the storm.
He parked the car once pulling up to the building, and parked in an empty parking space overlooking Derek's loft. There weren't many attendants in the building, just enough people take up a handful other parking spaces around him. The reason was because the loft building is literally no where- it's on the other side of town and a pretty bad spot for crime, his dad usually says. Therefore, there's only a few tourists that usually rent the thing out, even then, its only monthly.
Stiles stepped out of his jeep and into the cold pouring rain, soaking him in an instant, his red windbreaker flapped loudly in the wind, and his light blue jeans became heavy and stuck to his legs, his long dark hair matted to his forehead. He quickly jogged towards the door and then to the elevator.
Once the metal doors closed, he punched the top number on the wall for Derek's floor. Stiles raked a hand threw his hair, shaking out loose droplets, and most likely making his hair look even worse than it already was. But once the elevator doors opened, after a ding chimed through the soft music of what he thought was Miley Cyrus's Party in the USA, his thoughts on trying to look good mostly focused on how good Derek would look. Probably like death, he guessed.
He couldn't figure out what he was going to say once Stiles opened-slid- Derek's door, but he would cross that bridge once he came to it. He pulled on the handle to the door, making a loud gear grinding sound, and then walking into the cold loft, shutting the door behind him. Lightning still cracked across the sky, and he thought it looked pretty cool threw the wall sized windows in front of him, rain still pounding loudly against the glass.
"Derek?" He called out to the bone creeping darkness, as a booming set of thunder echoed through the sky. "You here?" Stiles kept his voice level, despite him being nervous and anchy that there could be a chance that Derek wouldn't be there, off somewhere else dying out on the streets. "Der?" Stiles walked down the few steps of stairs, and walked a little further into the loft, still looking for Derek.
"Der?" Stiles jumped down the few steps of stairs, and walked a little further into the loft, still looking around for Derek.
Suddenly his feet snagged on something he couldn't see at first in the dark and he fell to his stomach. Once he regained himself, he rolled onto his back, and leaned down to his feet to pick up an object. Stiles brought it close to his eyes, and took a lightning strike to finally realize what it was. A heel, a black heel was in his grasp. His mind didn't come to a conclusion before a moan, a soft one that almost sounded like a whine, caught his attention.
Stiles looks back at the heel in his hand, and dropped it quickly, almost like it was on fire, then scrambled himself up on his two feet so quickly it almost gave him whiplash. There was a slight ruffle of the sheets, and Stiles could feel his heart drop to his feet, making him feel sick on the spot.
He choked back a sob, his shaking hand raised to cup his mouth as tears sprung in eyes and streamed down his face. There was Derek, who was actually meant to be dead, lying on his side, and his sheets resting on his naked hips. No mark was in sight, and a peaceful look. His new English teacher was lying on her back under the same sheet that was just barely covering up her chest. Discarded clothing could be seen as his blurry eyes adjusted to the darkness.
Stiles backed away, shocked and close to letting his silent sob overtake him completely. But for the second time that night his feet caught and set him on the floor. He looked up from where he was on his ass in the middle of the floor to look at the bed. Jennifer-Ms. Blake- was sitting up looking back down at him, holding the sheet protectedly to her chest.
They starred at each other, Stiles using his hands to keep himself upright, and Jennifer, surprisingly, not looking any embarrassed or shy. After a couple of hour long seconds she smirked, then lied back down, wrapping her arm around Derek's waist and pressing her chest into his back, then she closed her eyes, with a smirk still on her face.
She had won. Stiles completely knew that she won. She won in a competition that hadn't even existed until their staring match. She was testing him, seeing if he had the guts to say something or call her out. But she could tell by the panic and sadness of utter betrayed in his face that he wasn't going to.
Stiles quickly stood and ran up the steps opening and shutting the door as loudly as he could because he didn't care anymore. He ran out of there tears streaming like a river down his face and his wet shoes squeaking as he ran, everything else going completely from his mind.
He didn't complete it loose until reaching his car, not the inside of it, but still in the pouring rain, as he leaned on the front of his car, his forehead touching the cold wet metal. His cries of pity and pain echoed like thunder, and he wished he could just die, his heart feeling just like it did when his mom died. Stiles felt the same helpless and weak feeling he did that day, and the same emptiness he felt. He didn't know when his legs finally gave out, just that he was lying in the middle of the parking lot, his face looking up directly at the stormed sky. Wishing the lightning would take him already and strike.
When the weather didn't take his request, and the storm subdued and the sun started to rise in the sky, he finally pulled himself to his wobbly feet using the grill, and yanked the car door open. Was he in good shape to drive? Probably not, but his heart would loose it even more if he was found by one of them in the parking lot where they fucked the past two days away.
So he drove, most likely speeding, until he couldn't take it anymore. Then got out of the jeep and trudge his way to the front door, and gave it a subtle knock. His eyes hurt from crying so much, which actually stopped for a couple of minuets, tears stuck to his pale face, and a headache pounded in his head.
Finally the door opened, and Lydia in all her pride and glory was standing there, with his hair in a high pony tail, a light pink tank top and bright green short pajama shorts. Tears stung his eyes again just looking at her, thankful that her mom wasn't the one to open the door.
"Lids," His voice was choked and clogged with phlegm. "He cheated on me." A new sob erupted him like a volcano and he threw himself into her arms, digging his face into her shoulder. "Derek cheated on me."
AN: I am so evil. Very. But I'm sorry! Sad/vulnerable Stiles is completely adorable. I just want to run and give him a hug. Oh, and if you're a Jennifer Blake lover... this isn't the fic for you. I hate her. Sorry. And also, before I get too carried away, this may or may not continue. Idk. So ratings/warnings may grow. You're reviews and favs should help me decide. R&R!