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“England?! Are you kidding me?!” Stiles had been innocently scrolling through Instagram, biding his time in preparation for another sleepless night when he sees it. A picture that he didn’t even know could exist.Derek Hale does not take pictures, Derek Hale doesn’t smile, and finally but most importantly, Derek Hale does not go on day trips to Stonehenge with Jackson Fucking Whittemore.
No one knew where Derek and Cora had taken off to. It wasn’t like he left a forwarding address or anything. A postcard would have been nice, though. A ‘Hey you guys, we’re alive and haven’t been mauled by anything with loads of teeth.’ But Nothing. Nothing for months, no calls, no texts, no emails. It was radio silence from a runaway beta by the name of Derek Hale. Until today. Siles was livid, beyond livid. Stiles was so pissed that he was literally a millisecond away from having steam shooting out of his ears.
Stiles was exiting out of his app and dialing Derek’s number before he really even knew what he wanted to say.Not that that was a shock, Normally, his brain and his mouth were one two different wavelengths, but throw anger into the mix and well,,,that was never a good combination.
The phone gave only one pathetic ring before being sent to voicemail. It wasn’t even the fact that Derek always bitch buttoned his calls that made Stiles’ blood boil, it was the fact that of fucking course he had the generic ‘you have reached the voicemail box of….DEREK HALE….’ that taunted Stiles everytime he called. “London, you asshole?! London?!” He said after the beep, “You don’t even like Jackson and yet he is posting pictures of the both of you on his fucking Instragrm. We didn’t know if you were dead, we didn’t know if you jumped off a fucking cliff, but I guess you’ve been ignoring my calls because they were suddenly international, since you are living with your new best buddy!”
He was up now, pacing his bedroom, “I cannot believe you.” Stiles took a deep breath through his nose and let it hiss through his teeth on the way out.. He didn’t even know if Derek was going to listen to the message. “Fuck you and your fucking happy face.” Stiles tried for months to get Derek to smile like that and he never managed more than a smirk. And Jackson probably didn’t even try. He probably said something douchey and stupid like he always does and bam, a Derek Smile for his troubles. Jackson Whittemore didn’t deserve Derek’s smile. Jackson wasn’t there for Derek. Ever. Jackson hated Derek. And Stiles...well. Stiles’ feelings were complicated.
“You’re probably sleeping because of the time difference and all, but I need you to listen to this message and feel like an asshole, because you are an asshole. A big, stupid asshole that makes people worry about you when they should worry about all the shit going on with themselves. Have fun with Jackson, I’ll be sure to check in with his Instagram next week to get a status update on your new bromance. you mother-” The beep signaled the end of the message and Stiles threw his phone at his pillows. “FUCKER.”