When Stiles' phone buzzed and lit up with the image of Lydia with two chopsticks in her mouth, he answered immediately.
"I thought I told you you can't keep calling me up for meaningless, mind blowing sex, Lydia".
"Hilarious, Stilinski".
He could hear her grin through the phone.
"Anyway, are you free tonight?"
Stiles closed the textbook he had been studying from and shoved himself away from his desk, letting the wheels on his chair take him skating across his bedroom.
He scoffed, "that's just cruel Miss Martin".
Lydia made a noise of protest and Stiles could imagine her lip falling into a pout of mock outrage.
"That was a genuine question, I'll have you know! You could have very well have had plans".
"On valentines day?" Stiles sighed.
"Well in that case, I'll be over in an hour".
Before the boy could ask why she, Lydia Martin, did also not have plans on valentines day, she hung up.
It didn't take long for Stiles to get ready; he ripped off the T-shirt he was wearing and chucked into the oblivion that was his closet before reaching for a clean one.
He stumbled down the stairs, his bare feet slapping against the wooden floorboards as he fixed the belt on his jeans. He ran his hands through his hair as he padded around the kitchen, trying in vain to calm the messy flicks that were now falling into his eyes.
"Get a goddamn haircut, son". He could practically hear his dads voice berating him despite the currently empty house.
Stiles rummaged around the cupboards, pulling out various packets of sweets and half eaten popcorn from Lydia's previous night visits to the Stilinski residence. He checked that the tub of ice cream was still hidden at the back of the freezer and then ran back upstairs to find his lacrosse jersey.
He located it with quick success, cramming the pile of textbooks, mythology guides and other clothing back under his bed. Giving himself another quick once over when passing the mirror, he strolled back downstairs in time to see Lydia letting herself in the front door.
She strolled in with quiet confidence, her long locks swept up and away from her face in the messiest bun Stiles had witnessed yet.
He smiled in greeting, reaching her as he hopped off the last step. With a grand sweep of his arm, he gestured into the living room.
"Be prepared for the night of your life, Martin".
Lydia laughed happily, allowing the boy to rest his hand on the small of her back, leading her into the family room that she knew so well.
She squealed with delight upon seeing the stacks of sweets, chips and popcorn laid out. Next to the largest tub of gummy worms they had once found, was a pile of DVDs ranging from Star Wars to Saw ||| and then The Notebook.
Lydia's eyes went wide and she brought her hands up to her chest in an overly dramatic fashion.
"You'd watch the notebook with me again?!"
Stiles tried to contain his smirk as he went into the kitchen only to reappear seconds later with a bottle of vodka.
"We can watch my version of The Notebook".
"Take a shot every time they kiss?"
"You know me so well".
Before Lydia could even take a seat on the couch, Stiles lacrosse heresy was dumped unceremoniously on top of her auburn head. She yanked it away, watching as the boy fell onto the sofa beside her with a grin.
She returned the smile before to yank it over her head. Stiles watched with quiet satisfaction as his name appeared across her back, the maroon material clashing horribly with her hair as it fell to her knees. The skin tight jeans she wore became practically hidden and Stiles frowned at this discovery. He loved those jeans.
Lydia had dragged him shopping one day and after a forty three minute argument and a haphazardly made ''powerpoint'' on his phone was presented on why owning at least one pair of jeans would be beneficial for Lydia, she gave in. Stiles cheeks hurt from grinning that day.
"So, why don't you have any pla-''
Before Lydia could return to her seat, or the boy could finish his sentence, Lydia reached underneath the enormous sweatshirt and wiggled her body in a curious fashion.
Stiles' speech halted and he raised his eyebrows at the girl. His questions were answered when the denim material peeled away from her legs. Lydia kicked the offending clothing to the floor and she fell back onto the sofa, throwing her long, now bare legs, over Stiles'.
She smiled smugly as his mouth hung open, his eyes a few shades darker than she knew them to usually be.
"What?''
Stiles merely stuttered in response, his hand casting dramatic motions as he gestured to the bare skin that was so teasingly placed across his lap.
"I figured I may as well get comfortable, we're friends right?''
Stiles scoffed and he watched Lydia smirk at his speechlessness, she revelled in the feminine control she had over him.
"Uh, yeah. We're friends. Do you do this with all your friends or is Isaac the one who gets to hold your bra on Tuesdays?'' He winked, teasing and baiting the banshee as she pursed her lips in return. Lydia waited until the laughter that rose to her lips at question disappeared.
She did not enjoy giving Stiles' the satisfaction of making her laugh - she tried to limit it to at least eight times a day.
God forbid she allowed him to have any more control over her emotions than he already did.
"No, don't be so silly'', she drawed coyly, letting herself stretch out languidly across him. Her bare feet rubbed the back of his denim clad calf innocently. Stiles' lips twitched at her actions and he gazed up at her accusingly through his ridiculously long lashes.
"We're special friends - only special friends do this", her lips fell into a pout and she winked at Stiles in the most dramatic fashion she could muster, "besides, I acquire Isaac's assistance on Friday's, not Tuesday's...''
"I'm confiscating the gummy worms and so help me god woman, if you think you're getting any ice cream''.
Lydia fell back into the cushions as her smile broke free and she laughed loudly and freely - the way that Stiles' once told her he adored.
"Your cheeks go all pink and you look so happy. You look fucking gorgeous, Lydia''.
"I apologise, friend''.
"Apology accepted, friend'', he handed her the gummy worms.
When the door rang to signal the arrival of pizza, Lydia still hadn't told Stiles why he didn't have a date on Valentines Day.
"But you always have a date, like literally every year...'' Stiles, pushed himself off of the kitchen counter, making his way to answer the door as the pizza boy insisted on pressing the bell repeatedly, "Jesus, this guy's in a hurry - HEY!''
Lydia froze in the hallway, looking at Stiles with wide eyes and her purse in hand. Stiles stood with one hand on the door handle whilst the other was pointed accusingly at Lydia.
His expression was one of complete shock.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?!'' He protested with a flail of his hand. Lydia simply rose her eyebrows in response. She gestured to her purse.
"Paying for my half of the pizza?''
"I am not opening this door with you standing there like that'', Stiles pointed to her bare legs and the long expanse of porcelain skin that was exposed.
Lydia made a noise that was halfway between a laugh and a sigh of exasperation.
"You're kidding me, right?''
"Are you actively aiming to give this dude a heart attack? Or were you aiming for a seizure?''
Lydia merely spluttered and raised her arms in defeat, dropping her purse back into her back. She shuffled past an adamant Stiles and walked through to the living room, yelling behind her.
"Okay, dad!''
"Special friend!'' Stiles yelled back as he opened the door to a confused and impatient delivery guy.
"...Sorry bro".
"I've heard weirder things tonight''.
"So you're actually refusing to tell me? All you're giving me is, you were supposed to have a date with a dude called Matthew and you cancelled? Seriously?'' Stiles threw a pizza crust back into the box that sat between them, "That's all you're giving me?''
Lydia sat crossed legged on the other side of the sofa as she stared blankly back at Stiles, chewing thoughtfully on her pizza slice before nodding.
The boy made a noise of frustration as he leaned over to steal another slice from the box, pausing as Lydia placed her unwanted pepperoni onto it.
He flicked her leg in both thanks and annoyance. He screwed up his face at her as he ripped off a chunk of food and mumbled, "Leheeya, um ma gud, why on't oo tell meh?!''
Instead of answering she threw her napkin at him and pointed at his empty soda glass.
"Drink?''
Without waiting for another unintelligible answer, she rose from the couch and grabbed their cups, moving quickly to the kitchen.
"So, Matthew, yeah?''
Lydia rolled her eyes at the boys persistent as he called through to her from the sofa. She opened the fridge in search for something cold and made a noise of agreement back to him.
"Sounds like a dick''.
His monotone response made her laugh and spill the soda she had been carefully pouring - her mind imagining the way Stiles' lip would curl and his eyes would narrow as he dismissed this stranger he had never met.
She shuffled around the kitchen comfortably, searching for the ketchup she had spotted behind some cereal boxes earlier.
"I'll have you know, he was actually quite the gentleman...''
She located the sauce with a happy hum and tucked it under her arm, grabbing their now full glasses as she wandered back into the living room.
Stiles accepted his juice with a thanks and continued to stare at Lydia with the curious expression he wore so well.
When she took a long gulp of her soda and happily squirted ketchup on the remainder of her pizza, Lydia looked up to find Stiles looking at her still.
"Fucking hell, Stiles, stop!''
He took no offense to her words and merely shuffled closer to her, setting the empty pizza box out of the way and lifting her legs to rest over his own once more.
Stiles let his head fall onto the back of the cushion as he turned to face her, letting his eyes soften and his lips pout more than they already did.
For seven and a half minutes, the girl ignored him, instead nibbling on her pizza, reading and re-reading the back of a DVD box repeatedly.
The second she had swallowed her last bite, Stiles swiped the box from her hands and flung it across the room to the other chair before yanking Lydia's whole body on top of his own. She protested and pawed him away without any intention of actually doing so, instead allowing her weight to fall into him naturally until she was sat on his lap.
"Can I help you?''
"Yes, you could tell me why you aren't out with Matth-''
"I wonder what Scott and Allison are up to...''
"Lydia''.
"Allison had been hinting at this little Italian place all week, wonder if Scott caught on?''
"...Lydia''.
"Of course he did, he's Scott''.
"Oh my god-''
"Oh, did you hear that Isaac asked Malia out?''
"I genuinely don't think I could care less''.
"Yeah I found it a bit out of the blue...''
"Lydia?''
"...But they look cute together, so who knows...''
Eventually, with much satisfaction on Lydia's behalf, Stiles gave in and unceremoniously shuffled his way from underneath the girl. He half crawled, half shuffled to the TV set, muttering obscenities and ''special friend's rights'' along the way.
Lydia ignored him before squealing in delight as he picked up ''The Notebook'' and placed it into the player.
As the opening credits appeared on the screen, Stiles dimmed the lights and made his way back to the couch, watching with a smirk as Lydia reached for the bottle of vodka that had sat teasingly before them.
She allowed him to crash down beside her, her legs once again resuming their natural position across his lap. She almost flinched in surprise as he rested his hands on her bare skin, his long fingers wrapping around her slender calf and his rough palms creating goosebumps. He rubbed up and down her legs as if she were cold and to distract herself from both the sensations he was creating and the tense silence, she waved the small bottle of clear liquid in front of him.
"Ready to get slightly inebriated?''
Stiles smirked at her through the fading light, "Hell yeah - the small pro's of still being human''.