This song was inspired by Stay High by Tove Lo. I love the relationship/friendship between these two, I think they're incredible. This story is obviously a bit AU. I apologize for any mistakes made.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, or the title.

Lydia Martin loved getting high.

And she especially loved getting high with Stiles Stilinski.

They had been friends for a while now, maybe since halfway through high school. He used to be that weird kid with a crush on her who was best friends with the shaggy haired boy who barely ever talked, Scott McCall, and she was the princess who pretended to be an idiot so that her boyfriend, Jackson Whittlemore, didn't feel inferior.

Those days were long over.

And she couldn't imagine going back.

"Right there..." Lydia let out a breathy moan as Stiles buried his tongue deep inside of her, licking at her velvety walls. She had already come more times than she could count, the sheets below her soaked right through, and the world around her was all fuzzy and colours bleeding together. They were in the back of his jeep, which Lydia was still surprised was actually holding itself together after all this time. They had hot boxed Roscoe, and they were parked out the back of the grassy domain on the other side of the town from their University and their apartment buildings.

Lydia was living with Alison Argent, and Stiles was predictably living with Scott and unpredictably with Isaac Lahey. Neither of their room mates cared about them getting high in their apartment—hell, a lot of the time they did it together. They all got stoned and drunk and then all laughed and watched stupid cartoons and listened to 90's music. Scott had just started dating this new girl, Kira Yukimura, and she was getting a degree in botany, so she was quickly becoming their new favourite person when they realised she was experimenting with different marijuana strands in her free time.

But there was just something about the two of them.

The pair of them, getting high in the hot, hazy backseat of Stiles' jeep. Alone.

"Come on, pretty girl," Stiles was murmuring to her as he pumped one finger inside of her, his sticky mouth kissing the inside of her thigh. Neither of them were even naked, she just had her dress flipped up around her waist and her underwear were somewhere near her knees. Of course it had always been in the plan that they were going to get high and fool around, but once the weed actually kicked in, there was no elegance about it. "Come for me." The lower half of his face was already damp from her come and she wanted to stretch out her fingers to grab him, but her depth perception was all over the place and she had no idea how far away he was. So she just closed her eyes and let all the feelings pour over her, her nerve endings feeling as though they were on fire and her toes curling as another orgasm rushed through her body.

Lydia had always had this need to be perfect, this need to live up to this pretty picture that her peers, her teachers, her parents, her lovers had for her.

She didn't need to do that with Stiles.

He knew who she was.

He saw her for who she was.

He loved her for who she was.

"You're thinking way too much right now," Stiles said lazily as he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and then shifted around so that he could lay next to her. Even with the back seats down, he was too tall to be able to stretch out properly, but he didn't care. He bent his legs at the knees and folded his arms behind his head, letting out a long breath through his nose as he closed his eyes.

They had been in here for nearly two hours, and he had been low key aroused the whole time, hard pretty much since they had made out when he had picked her up from her apartment. Once they had gotten out to the domain, and parked Roscoe right out the back, hidden in the trees and behind an old sports club, their main priority was getting high. The kissing, and the touching, had come after, when their skin was starting to tingle and their vision was starting to get fuzzy around the edges. Lydia had climbed over the centre console and awkwardly straddled him in the tight skirt she was wearing, until they had both gotten frustrated with the restrictions and had climbed over into the back seat.

"You're so good to me, Stiles," Lydia sung out under her breath and Stiles turned his head to grin over at her.

"I know," he replied smugly.

"Hey," she rolled her eyes at him. "Don't go getting Mr Up-Himself, or I might not suck your cock." Stiles pouted adorably, but didn't say anything. He honestly probably wasn't too bothered by the threat, because either way, he knew that she was still going to climb on top of him and ride him.

Their relationship had been complicated for a long time. At first, they had just been friends, and that had worked well enough. Lydia had known that Stiles had a crush on her, but she had thought that it was because he liked the idea of her, of what everyone else thought they knew about her, not the real her. So she had tried her best to ignore it, and had just focussed on being his friend. But as months went by, she realized that maybe he was the only person who really knew who she was, other than Alison, and so she had given him a chance.

It was a friends with benefits situation throughout their second to last year of high school, which then continued through their holidays and into their last year. The senior year had given them a bit more difficulty, since they had to focus so much more in school, even though both of them were intelligent beyond their years. They took a break for a while, fading back into the 'just friends' category, until Lydia realized there was no way she could do this—she needed Stiles—and she had showed up at his place one night when she knew that his dad was working late, and had told him that she wanted more. She didn't want this to be a casual thing, she wanted to be with him, properly.

It was now two and a half years later, and Lydia knew that was one of the best decisions she had made in her life.

Maybe they didn't always make the smartest decisions—exhibit A; getting stoned at least twice a week, and more times than not, in a public place at the risk of getting caught—but other than that, they were good kids. They had good friends, they worked hard in University to get good grades, they visited their parents as often as they could, they had after school jobs to help pay their way and they didn't get into trouble.

"I love you," Lydia blurted out, after being silent for what felt like only a couple of minutes, but could have been half an hour for all she knew. Stiles had lit up another joint and they had passed it back and forth between them, and then they had fallen back into blissful silence, and time had a way of becoming unimportant.

"I love you too, Lyds," Stiles replied, smiling at her, his eyes glazed over and his pupils dilated. She reached down between her knees and pushed her underwear down the rest of the way, kicking out one leg when it got hooked around one of her ankles. Then she sat up and began rubbing at Stiles through his jeans. There was a muffled moan as her fingers pressed down hard where the head was, and he bit down hard on his lower lip. Lydia undone his jeans zipper, and clumsily pulling them down, her fingers a little uncoordinated, but managing to get them off after only a few tries. Stiles was lifting his hips off the cushions and blanket that was spread out, his cock throbbing and pearly liquid gathering at the tip, clearly needing some friction. Lydia didn't waste time, swinging her leg over his narrow hips and then sinking down onto him.

"Shit..." Lydia groaned out, her hands reaching out for something to steady herself on as her boyfriend filled her, reaching spots inside her that his fingers and tongue could never satisfy, no matter how good he was, and how well he knew her.

"Fuck, Lydia," Stiles sighed out her name like it was something god-like, and it always made Lydia feel as though she was flying higher. He held out one of his hands for her and she linked their fingers, locking their hands together to anchor herself as she began to ride him. It started a slow rise and fall, her body felt too sated from the weed for anything else, but as soon as the hand that wasn't holding onto hers reached between them and his thumb pressed down on her clit, the urgency to come surpassed the heaviness in her bones. Rather than using her thighs to push her up and down, she began rocking back and forth. "That's it, pretty girl," Stiles groaned. "Ride me harder."

"Stiles..." Lydia whimpered, the feeling of his thumb pushing on her clit and making hard circles causing her back to bow and her toes to curl violently again. Her hips began to snap forward jerkily, gnawing down on her bottom lip as she felt another orgasm building at the base of her spine, but determined not to come until her lover did. "Stiles, Stiles..." her walls were tightening almost vice-like around is cock and Stiles' eyes were hazy and rolling back into his head.

"Ly—Lydia," Stiles stuttered out, and she knew that he was only seconds away. "Fuck!" Lydia let out a long whine as she came again, her fingers curling so tightly around Stiles' that their combined grip turned white-knuckled. Stiles moved his hand away from the apex of her legs, grabbing onto her thigh and gasping out her name as he came, his cock pulsing inside of her. Lydia fell forward, her head resting in the curve where his shoulder met his neck. The jeep was still heated from all of their smoking, and it felt as though they were surrounded by a warm cloud. Stiles traced his fingers up and down the curve of her spine under the thin shirt she was wearing.

"I love you," Lydia repeated her sentiment from earlier, her voice sloppy and heavy with lust and weed and love.

"I love you more," Stiles' voice sounded far away as she drifted off to sleep.

Weed and Stiles, that was all she needed in her life right now for her to know everything was going to be okay.

Let me know what you think!

I absolutely love any reviews :)