"For the last three months you've been under the impression that I was only with you because of a love spell?"

Stiles nods. His throat feels swollen shut, and no amount of clearing it will make it go away. It's guilt, he knows, the same emotion that's been almost crippling him for weeks, that finally forced him to come clean, even though it will probably make everything good go away. "There's gotta be a way to break it. I'll find it." He touches Derek's bare chest, twitches when he's pushed away.

"That won't be necessary," Derek says. He swings his legs off the bed and pulls on his jeans. His jaw is tense, a muscle in his back twitches. "That kind of magic doesn't exist, Stiles. It's not real."

"What?" Stiles' heart stops, and when it starts back up he can feel it, pounding in his chest. "No, it worked, it did. You'd never have gone out with me in the first place if I hadn't—"

"I was with you because I wanted to be with you." Derek just sounds defeated. Then, quieter, so quiet Stiles can barely hear it: "I loved you."

He said it just moments ago. For the first time, Derek said, "I love you." He was still inside Stiles when he said it, sex-drunk and vulnerable and Stiles couldn't handle the guilt any longer.

"It's real?" Stiles says. "Oh my god, it's real?" He kicks the sheet off his legs and crawls up behind Derek. "That's fantastic, why are you—?"

Derek shoves him off and stands up, buttons his jeans with shaking fingers. "No, it's not." He lifts his eyes, and he just looks broken. "You thought I was under a spell. You had sex with me, repeatedly, believing I wasn't capable of making my own decisions? Do you know what that's called?"

"No." Stiles shakes his head. "You're not under a spell, you just said—"

"It doesn't matter." Derek looks away, and his face turns cold and hard. "Get out of my bed, Stiles. You're not welcome here anymore."

fin

Transformative works:

• Bewitched and Bothered by jsea
• Bewildered by Pomyluna (Polish translation)