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“You know Derek I really haven’t had a hard time finding company, so fuck you very much” Stiles flipped him the finger over his shoulder as he made his way for the front door.
“Yeah, I can smell the crowds on you from a mile away”
Stiles froze as the muttered words penetrated his stress-fogged brain.
“What did you just say to me?” He turned around slowly his voice deceptively calm.
Derek’s lips twisted into a vicious smirk and he shrugged like he didn’t give two shits. “I said any wolf with a nose can smell the cheap motel and shame clinging to your skin” Derek’s smirk twisted into a snarl of contempt as he raked his burning, red eyes up and down Stiles body.
Rage. Pure, uninhibited rage swept through Stiles like wildfire, blinding him like a tempest and crashing over him like stormy waves on cold, barren rock.
“You don’t get to call me a whore” hard as steel, cold as ice Stiles’ voice cut through the Hale house quicker than a scream. There was no point in pretending that the entire household wasn’t listening in on this conversation whether he and Derek were the only ones in the front hall or not. Every keen set of wolf ears was trained on them and although Stiles knew it, could sense it, felt no desire whatsoever to dredge up the past and smear it on the walls for the whole world to see he refused to back down from this. Refused to give up his self-respect for the man who’d abandoned him to a life of loneliness and degradation, compelled him to seek out warm bodies on the nights where memories of their time together echoed in his empty home.
“When I met you I thought I had met the person I was going to spend the rest of my life with” Stiles spoke slowly and clearly, not over-enunciating, not shouting, just pulling the words from the jagged edges of his still-broken heart and laying them bear for Derek to pick at. “I was done. So all the life threatening antics, all the Lydia bullshit, all the obvious mommy issues; who cared? Because I was done.”
Derek’s face firmed into his usual stony expression, his eyes hardening, his lips thinning. At that moment Stiles really didn’t give a fuck.
“You. Left. Me” he felt his throat attempt to close up at the confession but he forced it back, he refused to cry once more for the things he couldn’t change, for the pain Derek had inflicted, for the life and love he’d lost so long ago.
“You chose Jennifer, and I’m all glued back together now” Stiles braced himself and pointed a finger at Derek “And I make no apologies for how I chose to fix, what you broke. You don’t get to call me a whore” his voice was rough on the last word but it rang true and proud. Stiles was so done with this, never again would he allow this man to break him, never again would he allow Derek to see his vulnerable underbelly in blind trust only to have himself gutted and his heart ripped out.
“This thing between us” Derek began, his fists clenching at his sides “It’s over” he snarled.
Stiles threw his hands up in the air and laughed. “Fucking finally” he crowed.
“We’re done” Derek was all glowing red eyes and extended canines, he looked half-feral, it reminded Stiles of the last time they’d fucked; hard and rough and high on adrenaline in the middle of Beacon Hills Reserve. If he focused he could still recall the phantom feeling of Derek’s claws scratching at the vulnerable skin of his thighs and the feel of hot, moist breath on his throat.
“Thank god” With that Stiles turned and left, letting the front door close softly behind him with a barely audible snick.
The End