Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/487672.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski
  Character:
      Derek_Hale, Stiles_Stilinski
  Additional Tags:
      Light_Dom/sub, Power_Dynamics, Blow_Jobs, Adult_Content, Submission,
      Established_Relationship, younger_dominance
  Series:
      Part 2 of My_Regrets_Are_Few
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-08-16 Words: 1862
****** So Clear But So Unheard ******
by secondstar
Summary
     “We are not bunnies.”
     “I didn’t say we were bunnies.” Stiles said, sighing dramatically. “I
     said we fuck like bunnies. You are a werewolf, I am a human.
     Obviously, we are not bunnies.”
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
Normality is a myth. Scott had wanted things to go back to ‘normal’ and Stiles
laughed at him, biting his lip as he thought about how things would never, ever
be the same again. What Scott really meant was that he wanted Stiles to be
there for him, which he was. Stiles was always there for Scott.
But he was also there for Derek.
Derek, who only months before lost his sister, not to mention the endless list
of shit that has happened since he came back to Beacon Hills. He was putting
the blame on himself, for everything. Even Scott, which was totally his uncle’s
fault.
School was school. Endless hours of mind-numbing classes followed by either
detention or lacrosse. Detention, of course, being more often than not when
Scott was involved. More than likely, though, it was Stiles’ fault.
Detention with Harris was the worst, because he had it out for Stiles. If
Stiles so much as breathed wrong in class he got a detention. If he sneezed?
Well, fuck, his entire week was shot.
Being normal was overrated. It got boring, fast. Scott pretending as if he
didn’t have a furry little problem was getting on Stiles’ nerves, fast.
“You can’t just... ignore the pack.” Stiles said, his frustration shown by
slamming his locker shut.
“I’m not in the pack.” Scott answered, shrugging his shoulders. Stiles rolled
his eyes.
“Yeah, ok, sure. And it just so happens that you still go see them almost every
day after practice.” Stiles murmured. “Isaac is pack, and you two are
practically blood brothers.” Scott lifted an eyebrow.
“Are we really going to talk about who has been hanging out with who more? Want
to talk about Der-”
“Nope.” Stiles said, over-exaggerating shaking his head no. Not going into that
with Scott, not at school. Not where people could eavesdrop.
“Something is going on there, you reek of him.” Scott said, wringing his nose.
Stiles shoved him into a locker. “And you are lashing out like him too.” He
laughed. Stiles stuck his tongue out, but smiled.
“Nothing is going on. He’s the alpha, he needs no man.” Stiles quipped.
That was a blatant lie, of course. But Stiles was uncomfortable with discussing
his sex life with Scott. It wasn’t his business, especially since Stiles was
pretty positive that Scott was lying when he said he wasn’t pack. He totally
was part of the fucking pack. Therefore he really shouldn’t be telling Scott
that Derek was his.
Derek was his in ways he never even thought possible.
So yeah, fine, he was normal during the day with Scott. He was good at it, he
thought. He was good at not telling people what he really thought about all day
long. His smart ass remarks got him laughs, made people think that he was the
same old Stiles who hadn’t gone through hell with his best friend and a pack of
werewolves. But then he went home.
Even then, it was a facade. His father kept him under lock and key ‘for his own
good’, not liking what has happened to his quiet town.
“The only way I know you are safe is if you are home.” Sheriff Stilinski had
said one night. To which Stiles tried to retort, but was silenced before he
even got a word in edgewise. “No ‘but’s about it, Stiles. I am serious with
this. No sneaking out, no late night meetups, no getting into trouble. Study
your ass off for the SATs.” He added in, for good measure.
Thank god his dad worked nights, now.
Stiles rarely stayed home. Because who the fuck would stay home when they had a
boyfriend who needed them? That’s right, boyfriend.
Stiles grinned, thinking about Derek asking what they were. Derek had asked him
for the label. He wanted to know what he was to Stiles. It took Stiles by
surprise, just like everything that had happened to him. Stiles response?
Laughter.
“Don’t laugh, I am serious.” Derek had said, frowning. They were in bed, legs
tangled, skin red and marked, chests heaving.
“We’re us, Derek.” Stiles said, his head nuzzled in the crook of Derek’s neck,
his hand on his chest. “We’re...” Stiles sighed, sitting up. “Boyfriends?” He
asked. Derek lay there, naked, and Stiles had asked him what they were. Stiles
bit his lip.
He was totally doing this wrong.
“Fuck it.” He said. “We’re dating. In a relationship. Hell, if you had a
facebook, we’d make it official but you don’t... because you are lame.” Stiles
said, shrugging as if it was nothing. Derek smiled, then, and Stiles’ heart
soared. He acted nonchalant about it because Derek was his, and he felt like he
needed to feel sure about it. Sure enough about everything because Derek
trusted him. He trust him with his heart. It was a big fucking deal, and Stiles
didn’t take it lightly. Mainly, because he had never held anyone else’s heart
in his hands before. He wanted to keep it safe, he wanted Derek to be safe.
It was peacetime, though. There was no big bad, no crazy lizard, no messed up
Argent’s after them. Peacetime meant time with Stiles, and he was okay with
that.
“In a relationship.” Derek whispered. Stiles smiled, leaning over and kissing
him. He pressed fingers against a mark he had given Derek, making him hiss into
the kiss. Stiles moaned, knowing that Derek liked that Stiles marked him
constantly.
Derek had called it ‘marking his territory’, and fuck yes Derek as his
territory and no one elses. He may be human, and Derek the leader of a pack of
misfit werewolves, but Stiles knew what Derek wanted, and that was to be not in
charge.
Stiles straddled Derek, his mouth slowly making its way down Derek’s neck, his
chest, his nipples, his teeth scraping along the way at tender flesh, making
Derek arch his back in ecstasy. Derek reached out for Stiles, to run his
fingers through his short hair, but Stiles swatted his hand away as he went
lower. He did it because he knew the reaction it would get, denying Derek the
chance to touch him. Derek growled, but it turned into a moan as Stiles took
Derek into his mouth, licking up his shaft as he cradled Derek’s balls in his
hand.
He liked making Derek come before he fucked him. He liked Derek to be spent,
exhausted before he even got started. He loved the taste of Derek’s come, the
smell of his sweat mixed with lust that filled the room when they were
together. Stiles was addicted to the pure power of Derek writhing beneath his
hands as he fucked him with his fingers, spreading him wide. He liked the
sounds of their bodies meeting, the slap of skin against skin. He liked raking
his fingers down Derek’s back, leaving long red marks there that would fade by
the time morning came.
Their first time was odd, to say the least. Stiles had no qualms about letting
Derek know how scared he was. Fucking an Alpha to pop your cherry was a lot of
fucking stress. Actually, Stiles came in his pants first, so there was that.
Typical. It wasn’t his fault things had been taking awhile, you know. As Derek
so finely put it: “Asses aren’t vaginas, you can’t just stick something in.”
Yeah, Stiles had laughed, but it broke the ice. It wasn’t like Derek had ever
been fucked either, so they were basically on the same boat.
Needless to say, getting Derek ready took a while. Stiles didn’t mind, though,
because Derek was noisy. Derek was vocal during sex, very. It was like some
sort of alternative Derek, one that no one else but Stiles saw.
“Like that, just like that, yes Stiles fuck me, fuck me harder.” A constant
litany of words escaped Derek’s lips whenever Stiles rode him into the
mattress. They fucked the bunnies, as Stiles said one day, almost asleep. Derek
had laughed, shaking his head.
“We are not bunnies.”
“I didn’t say we were bunnies.” Stiles said, sighing dramatically. “I said we
fuck like bunnies. You are a werewolf, I am a human. Obviously, we are not
bunnies.”
“Obviously.” Derek said, kissing Stiles on the lips.
The thing was, was that whenever Derek kissed Stiles, it was tender. It was
soft, and long, and full of emotion. Whenever Stiles instigated it, it was
passionate, heated, lust personified where one of them inevitably got rammed
into a wall. Stiles had the bruises to prove it. There was a stark contrast to
them, but they fit together. They fit so well, Stiles’ back against Derek’s
chest as they rode out their post-coital high, lying together in silence.
The only time Stiles would be silent was after sex. He just didn’t have it in
him, then. His mind was at peace, empty of thought, his body calm and worn out.
He always dozed off to Derek’s arms wrapped around him, his nose buried against
Stiles’ neck, breathing him in.
Stiles bit, scratched, smacked, and fucked. Derek kissed, caressed, and licked.
Stiles liked it, the contrast. It was what Derek wanted, it was what he wanted.
They were like two puzzle pieces, nothing alike but fit so well together.
“Why me?” Stiles asked, his body sprawled across Derek’s in bed.
“What?” Derek asked, confused. Stiles didn’t move when he felt Derek’s hands on
his back, his palms gliding over his skin slowly. Stiles gulped, closing his
eyes.
“Why me, you know, to be your...” Stiles sighed, trailing off. He didn’t have a
word for what he was.
“Master?” Derek supplied. Stiles shifted, sitting up, letting Derek’s hands
fall.
“Is that what I am to you?” Stiles asked, unsure if he liked that title. Derek
shrugged as if it was nothing. Stiles’ heart was beating in his throat. Yeah,
he could pin Derek against a wall, he could roll him over onto the bed in any
position that he wanted. But master? That sounded like he had him in a collar,
that he whiped him. He didn’t do any of those things.
“You’re Stiles.” Derek answered, which made Stiles smile. “My Stiles.”
“You’re my Derek.” Stiles said, biting his bottom lip, looking at Derek’s
exposed chest, marked by him. It made his cock stir between his legs. Derek
noticed, licking his lips. “You’re an Alpha.” Stiles whispered, letting Derek
know that they were talking and that there would be no touching, even if Derek
did smell Stiles’ arousal. Derek nodded.
“I am. But you aren’t in my pack.” Derek answered, leaning in, kissing Stiles.
Stiles moaned, then. He let Derek push him onto the bed, his hands all over
him. Derek took his time, smelling Stiles’ neck, kissing his collarbone, taking
his hand, licking his finger tips. Stiles shuddered, gasping as Derek took his
index and middle finger into his mouth. Stiles’ mouth opened, watering at the
sight. “You want to know the real reason you can get me on my knees?” Derek
asked. Stiles whimpered at the mental picture, but nodded.
“Because you’re my mate.”
Yeah, normality was fucking overrated.
End Notes
     This was a lot harder to write than I had originally thought, but I
     think it turned out well! Hope you enjoyed it. :)
      
     beta'd by lsdme (who it is also written for!)
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