My first Teen Wolf story! Title comes from the song "Sloom," by Of Monsters and Men.
Stiles is curled up on his bed, and he's feeling simultaneously like his stomach is the emptiest it's ever been and also like he might throw up. It feels like his heart is living right beneath his throat now, and there's not enough space for it there. He's feeling an almost startling amount of self-pity.
He wants to beat himself up a little. For God's sake, it's not like he and Derek were dating. He'd just harbored a crush on the dude for a while, gone in to kiss him, and gotten rejected. No big deal.
Except his brain is playing back every word Derek said, every disgusted twitch of his eyebrows.
"What the hell are you thinking? You're 16 Stiles. You don't even like me. And I don't like you. Get out of here."
And Stiles had, had stumbled back to his jeep and sat behind the wheel and put his foot on the brake and the other on the clutch and started the car and- well, he didn't quite remember the middle part now, but somehow he'd ended up here, lying on top of his bed. He flopped over onto his other side, staring at the wall.
"You're dumb," he says to the wall. "This is a stupid thing to be upset about. Stop it. Quit it. Give it up."
And with that his stomach drops a little more and his voice does an embarrassing thing where it might be cracking and it might be just breaking and he shoves his face into his pillow instead, but still seems to be talking.
"He's not interested in you. You're just a dumb kid, and you're skinny and you're pale and you're not –"his voice breaks off for real this time, and he ends up just rubbing his face back and forth on his pillow, reasoning that he can't be crying if the tears can't escape in the first place. And he knows, he knows that some of this is being a teenager, and maybe hormones have a part to play in this, but he doesn't care, he deserves a pity party as much as the next guy, and if he chooses to wallow in it, there's no one to stop him.
And that's why he wakes up at 5:00 the next morning, after falling into a miserable sleep at about 7 the night before. He's too awake to roll over and go back to sleep, and besides, the bed just feels like a nest of misery right now, so he takes a shower, and makes himself a nice breakfast, and catches up on his internet reading. Once 6:30 rolls around he is self-aware enough to feel a little shame at how he (he can admit it, perhaps over-re)acted the night before, but there's still a hard ball of sadness sitting in his gut and his brain keeps trying to torture him with images of Derek and his stupidly handsome face as he backed away from the kiss.
So Stiles gets in his jeep and decides to be stupid early for school, even though classes are pretty much over and all that's left of his sophomore year is an easy standardized test and cleaning out his locker. He texts Scott to get ready early and is absolutely flabbergasted when his friend hops out of his house only ten minutes after Stiles parked his jeep in front of it. Scott gets in with his regular dumb grin, and spends the entire ride to school gushing to Stiles about the beach trip he and Allison have planned, and how they've ingeniously hidden it from their parents, and how he's going to have so much sex.
When they finally get to the school parking lot, Stiles hops out of the jeep and goes around the back to grab his stuff, only to find Scott already there, looking at him suspiciously.
"What's up, dude?" Scott asks, sniffing him in what he certainly thinks is a subtle way.
Stiles shrugs.
"Nothing, I'm just… nothing, man."
Scott narrows his eyes at him a bit and scoots closer.
"I'm your best friend, I know when something's gone down. Plus you smell all different. So… what?"
Stiles had considered keeping this whole clusterfuck a secret, but he still feels gross and he kind of wants Scott to have to do the whole nursing back to emotional health part this time.
"Uh, look dude, sorry I didn't tell you, but, I'd had this crush on someone…"
"Lydia?" Scott says immediately, looking confused.
"Not Lydia, so much as a, uh… a dude." Stiles risks a quick glance up at Scott to gauge his reaction. Scott's head has reared back a little and his eyes have gotten a little wider, but he's not burning Stiles with fire or anything, so things could be worse.
"Who?" Scott asks after a moment.
"I don't want to tell you that. I don't think you know him, anyway," Stiles lies, hoping Scott is distracted enough not to read his heartbeats. "Look, I don't want to talk about who he is, just that, uh, I kind of went for it and he turned me down. So, uh, I just…" Stiles shrugs, looking helplessly up at Scott, who is starting to look a little panicked. Stiles barks out a laugh. "It's okay, dude, you don't have to hold my hand or watch chick-flicks with me or anything, I'm just feeling a little bummed out. It'll pass."
Scott nods slowly and starts to regain his normal face position. Finally, he smiles just a little and pulls Stiles into a hug.
"I'm sorry dude, that sucks. Mystery guy has no idea what he's missing. Lemme know if you need anything, yeah?"
Stiles smiles against his shoulder and squeezes him extra hard before letting go.
"Yeah, thanks man. I'm fine, let's just," he makes a sweeping hand gesture towards the school, "let's just go murder the rest of this year and getting started on summer already, right?"
By lunch Stiles sees that Scott has told Allison. He can't even be mad about it, it's like Allison is covered in catnip and Scott just has to roll all over her and while he's doing it his mouth flaps around and releases secrets. Stiles snorts at his own imaginary scenario while he slides in to sit next to Scott. Allison smiles at him without any pity, and Stiles appreciates that.
"So look, Stiles, Scott and I were planning this beach trip next week, and I know Lydia hates being alone with her parents all summer, so I was thinking of inviting her, and we just were wondering if maybe you'd want to come too?"
Stiles smiles at her. He knows they just want to keep him from wallowing by himself at home, but he appreciates the gesture, and the beach actually sounds kind of nice. Before he can open his mouth, though, Allison's eyebrows furrow and she starts again.
"Oh, it's not going to be weird for you with Lydia, is it? I mean, I know… well. She doesn't have to… "
Stiles shakes his head.
"No, it's really fine, not awkward at all. It'll help us move into our really being friends phase, instead of her ignoring me and me pining." Stiles is a little startled to discover that it's actually true. Something about kissing Derek just sucked out any remaining feelings for Lydia. And now he's thinking about kissing Derek, about the split second sensation of their lips pushing together, about that one moment where he thought Derek was actively participating, where he might have actually wanted Stiles back. And then, of course, the look of disbelief, of disgust, that someone that looked like Stiles would actually kiss someone who looked like –
His train of thought must have shown on his face, because Scott nudges him in the shoulder harder than is strictly necessary. His quirked eyebrows say "Are you okay?" and Stiles shrugs and nods back. By then Lydia is sitting down next to Allison, and they're discussing beach plans already, and it's nice, and Stiles starts to feel that warm glow of having people who like you. It's doing its best to battle the cold ball in the pit of Stiles's stomach, and Stiles is hoping that beach sunshine will take care of the rest.