totallynotrobin (
totallynotrobin) wrote2014-05-30 03:42 pm
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Sex Therapist AU
Stiles is sure this was a terrible idea. Absolutely terrible. He's shaking as he sits, waiting, in the man's office. After everything that happened...he can't do this. He should leave. No - he isn leaving. He's going to walk out that door and -
But Stiles is frozen by fear. His nails are digging into his palm, jaw clenched. Move. Get up. Get out before he shows up. I'm sorry, Dr. Hale, I couldn't make it. Yeah. Sounds plausible.
It was a Wrong Place, Wrong Time type of thing. Actually, it was the Wrong Drink. Worst part was, it wasn't even meant for him. But when the guy figured out he'd roofie'd the wrong kid, well - might as well get something out of it, right? And for some sick reason, that made him feel worse, that he wasn't the intended target. That he was some kind of second class, even for a sick fuck like that. From there, it was all downhill.
So he's stuck in that chair, dreading the moment his new therapist opened the door.
But Stiles is frozen by fear. His nails are digging into his palm, jaw clenched. Move. Get up. Get out before he shows up. I'm sorry, Dr. Hale, I couldn't make it. Yeah. Sounds plausible.
It was a Wrong Place, Wrong Time type of thing. Actually, it was the Wrong Drink. Worst part was, it wasn't even meant for him. But when the guy figured out he'd roofie'd the wrong kid, well - might as well get something out of it, right? And for some sick reason, that made him feel worse, that he wasn't the intended target. That he was some kind of second class, even for a sick fuck like that. From there, it was all downhill.
So he's stuck in that chair, dreading the moment his new therapist opened the door.
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(( ooc: eep! just as I'm about to leave for the night xD quick tag before i gooo ))
"Sort of. I played a lot of video games."
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Peter smiles a little.
"Are you good in video games then?"
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"I like to think so."
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"I suppose you were playing games before you quit lacrosse too." Peter starts and takes his glass again to drink. "Why didn't you stop that too?"
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Stiles smiles a little before it dissipates. He sighs, then answers, "To be honest; because I don't have to leave my house for that."
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"But you're still going to school and meet your friends, aren't you?" Peter tilts his head.
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"When I have to," Stiles mumbles. He's been missing a lot, skipping, not doing his homework. And Scott's the only person he sees anymore; even that is scarce. Not for lack of trying on Scott's part.
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"Are you skipping school a lot, Stiles? How often?" he asked, glancing back up at the boy.
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"…we've got that patient confidentiality bullshit, right?" Stiles pauses to ask. His dad knows, but not the extent of it.
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"It's not exactly bullshit you know. But yes, I'm not allowed to talk about to a third party of our conversations without your permission." he nods, not taking his eyes off Stiles.
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"Not even my dad." Stiles clarifies, staring back at him. He's half-convinced this whole thing is bullshit, but that sliver of a chance that it isn't is what's keeping him going.
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"Every day." Stiles admits quietly. "Almost all day, usually."
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"For all these months?" he asks quietly. "And you're alone on these days?"
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"Yeah," Stiles nods, glancing back down at his hands. "He doesn't know. I mean, he knows I skip. Not how much. He's never home."
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"…when you say it like that it sounds awful." Stiles mutters, but he knows that it is.
"I - I guess I finally decided I needed help." Stiles looks up at him, hazel eyes dark. "I don't know if you can actually help me. But I can't say I didn't try."
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"Believe me Stiles, I'll help you with everything I can." Peter speaks. "And I'm glad you decided to come, even if you're reluctant. That means you already made the first step. And you're here with me in a room, with a stranger. Stiles I have high hopes for you."
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"Yeah, let's see if I have the guts to show up next time." Stiles mutters, fidgeting in his chair. "Well, thanks, but we'll see."
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Stiles sighs a little. "You're the only one a) close enough for me to arrive before I chicken out, and b) male. I can't - it wasn't - yeah."
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"It's pretty simple," Stiles coughs awkwardly. "I keep scrubbing. But I don't feel clean." And that feels more physical to him that mental, but he could be wrong.
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"It's not you who should feel dirty, Stiles." Peter assures the boy as he clicks his pen. "Did you experience a different sexual drive since the incident? The lack of for example?"
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"Sort of." Stiles leans back in his seat. His eyes are glued to Peter's notebook, nerves growing. "Not that I'm not…attracted to people. I just don't feel good when I am."
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