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When Stiles entered the loft Derek squared his shoulders.
He needed to do this now, before it got worse for the both of them.
“Hey, sourwolf, I heard there was a new big bad, I’m here for research,” Stiles called out, holding up his bag, filled with books and papers.
“No,” Derek told him and Stiles stopped dead in his tracks.
“No, what? No, there’s no new big bad, or no you don’t need me to research anything because you’ve already figured it out?”
Derek’s heart clenched at the way Stiles didn’t even doubt his welcome here anymore and it just showed him that he had let this go on for too long.
Stiles' scent was excited, and happy-soft, and Derek couldn’t have that. He could smell the tentative beginnings of love, and he could have that even less. Stiles was in danger when he was with him, and Derek needed to keep him safe.
“No, I don’t need you anymore,” Derek pressed out and saw the confusion on Stiles’ face.
“What…what does that mean?” Stiles asked, finally unsure of what was going on and the sour tinge to his scent made Derek’s stomach turn.
“It means that you’re not pack, that you never will be, and that I don’t need you to do the research for us anymore. Peter is back, he knows more than you ever could anyway. You would just slow us down.”
Derek could see Stiles going pale, could see him start to shake, first his hands, then his arms, until he was shaking all over.
“You sure you have to do this?” Peter asked from upstairs, voice only audible for werewolves and Stiles opened his mouth at the same time.
“What are you talking about?” he asked and Derek could hear the waver in his voice.
“Shut up,” he snapped, at Stiles as much as at Peter. “I want you to leave.”
“No,” Stiles said, and his voice was sure and steady all of a sudden. “Something is going on and I want you to tell me what’s happening.”
“Nothing is going on. The only thing that is happening is you overstaying your welcome when no one has time for you,” Derek told him, desperately trying to keep his voice hard, not allowing in any doubt to what he was doing here.
“But you told me I could always drop by,” Stiles started again and his voice was thin now, the situation finally sinking in.
“You think I liked having you here?” Derek asked with a sneer and he hated himself for doing this to Stiles, but he had to.
He had to keep him safe at all costs.
“You were convenient for research, that’s all. Don’t think there was ever anything more to it,” Derek snapped out and he could hear Stiles’ heart stutter before it went into overdrive.
“You used me,” Stiles whispered and while there was pain in his voice and scent, there was no surprise and that was what hurt Derek the most.
Stiles was no stranger to being exploited, and then discarded when he was no longer of use.
“I thought there was more to this, to us,” he mumbled and Derek forced himself to laugh, making it as mean as he could.
“What, you thought I liked you? That we were friends? That we could be more?”
It hurt Derek to bring this up, to throw Stiles’ feelings for Derek back to him like that, but he had no choice. He needed to make Stiles leave, and make sure he would not come back.
He very pointedly did not think about his own feelings, or the fact that his heart was breaking just like Stiles’ was.
“I hate you,” Stiles said, and Derek could smell the salt in his tears and the skip in his heartbeat and even if Stiles didn’t hate him, he hated himself just fine.
“I don’t care,” Derek gave back with a shrug and then pointed at the door. “Leave. And don’t bother coming back. No one has time to deal with you. Not to mention that no one wants to deal with you anyway.”
Stiles pressed his lips together and then turned on his heels, storming out of the loft, leaving only his scent behind, thick with betrayal and pain.
“That was harsh,” Peter said from the stairs. “I’m almost proud of you.”
“Shut up,” Derek snapped at him and turned his back to his uncle.
He just hoped it would be enough to keep Stiles safe from the Alpha pack.