A/N: Wow, I wrote something that isn't romione. What even is this? Written for the 2014 stydia secret santa on tumblr and now posted to c: Enjoy the secondary otp guys!

Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf (you can tell by the fact that Stydia aren't canon yet)

All around him people were dancing and laughing with their partners, drinks in hand and in most cases, more than a little tipsy. The music was heavy and upbeat, blasting through the multiple 12 inch speakers at either side of the room. A myriad of contrasting colours assaulted his vision every time the strobe lights flashed in time with the beat and the start of a headache began to form in his temple.

In truth, he wasn't even sure why he was at Lexi Lyden's New Year's Eve party, other than the fact that Scott and Allison were going. Bit of a bad move on his part, turning up at a party designed for couples who wanted to start the New Year together, despite not being in a relationship with anybody himself. Not that he hadn't tried to get a date of course (because he had), just that the attempts hadn't gone all that well. The real surprise, however, wasn't his inability to obtain a date, but the fact that the biggest party in Beacon Hills was not, for once, being hosted by Lydia Martin.

Not that she wasn't here of course, because she was. Even if she wasn't the hostess, it wasn't like Lydia to just sit at home whilst there where people to impress.

Stiles had a clear view of her sitting across the hall, arms folded over a modest green cocktail dress and wearing a somewhat pouty expression. He had been debating going over and asking if anything was wrong for the best part of twenty minutes now. He would have done too, if he had not also observed her viciously snapping at anyone who got too close.

It made sense though, didn't it? He was the misfit awkward kid amongst all the socially able couples, and she was obviously alone and sulking about it. What's the worst that could happen if he went and talked to her? He could get rejected, that was certainly a possibility. He could embarrass himself to the point of mortification, which was also quite likely. Or she could agree to sit with him and they could talk and she'd realize what a connection they had- Stiles quickly dismissed that idea as not gonna happen. Like he had a chance with Lydia Martin, the girl who he'd had a crush for as long as he could remember.

Stiles sighed and took another drink of whatever sour alcoholic beverage he was holding, slouching down in his chair for good measure. Apart from a single pity dance with Allison when Scott went off to get drinks, this is where he had remained throughout the evening. Alone, and in a constant confusion as to why he had agreed to come. And why he had not yet left.

Well, to be frankly honest, that was a lie. He knew exactly why he hadn't left yet, and it was all to do with the strawberry-blonde beauty sat opposite him. Even though he couldn't muster the courage to go and comfort her directly, didn't mean he couldn't keep an eye on her from afar. Mainly because he knew no one else would. Lydia had a great independent streak- that much was obvious to anyone who had ever come into contact with her. She was the girl that needed no-one, but the girl that everyone needed. Or at least, that's what she'd like to have everyone believe. Stiles knew better. He could see behind the lines, see through the image she was carefully and intricately building for herself. All the years he'd spent admiring her from afar had taught him something about Lydia Martin; that she was not the girl she'd painted herself to be. Stiles had no idea how many people actually knew the real Lydia; but he guessed there weren't many. All he knew was that it must be exhausting for her to keep up the act, to constantly be the girl everybody wanted and expected her to be. And he also knew that it must be pretty damn lonely most of the time.

It was this thought that spurred him forwards. They were both alone amongst a crowd of people, surely she'd be grateful for the company? She was a naturally extroverted person, and it seemed rather out of character for her to be sat alone. She couldn't be happy, on her own amongst this big of a crowd. No, she just needed someone to bring her back into the party life. Stiles could be that person. This could be his one chance with Lydia Martin. Why pass up the opportunity? Even if they didn't hit it off maybe they could remain in contact as friends. Stiles could definitely settle for friends.

But there wasn't a chance of any of that happening if he didn't get up off of his ass and do something about it. He'd definitely come to regret it later if he didn't act. What was a few seconds of possible humiliation compared to a lifetime of 'what if's'?

Setting aside all doubt from his mind, Stiles approached Lydia with as much confidence as he could muster (which, admittedly, wasn't an awful lot). The minute the red head's eyes snapped up to meet his when he was standing a few feet away, Stiles blanked. What exactly was it that he was doing again? Lydia's eyebrows rose up in a silent question- what do you want? Stiles opened his mouth to speak and, as usual, blurted out the first thought that entered his brain, "Hey Lydia! Fancy seeing you here!" he exclaimed enthusiastically, the already cringe worthy line being accompanied by unnecessary hand gestures.

"Ah yes, how surprising it must be to find me at a party I distinctly remember you asking me if I were attending," she smirked without humor as Stiles winced, remembering the awkward encounter earlier that week, "Stiles, right?" she added with little interest to the answer as she dug out a compact mirror from her bag.

"Yeah, Stiles. Well, Stiles Stilinkski. And you're Lydia. Lydia Martin. And we're here. At this party. Together." Stiles really wished Lydia would hurry up and interrupt his rambling, but she appeared to be too busy re-applying her lipstick to do so. "But I came over here because you're alone and I'm alone so I thought maybe we could be… less alone. And I'm still talking. Why am I still talking?" he wondered aloud, very much wishing the ground would open up and swallow him whole.

"Are you asking me or is that a rhetorical question?" Lydia replied, her attention back on him, "Because if you're asking me, I would suggest you were still talking because you found the silence uncomfortable and felt the need to fill it. Or the party atmosphere is making you nervous, or a combination of the two. Sit down." She added abruptly at the end of her analysis, and Stiles almost knocked the chair over in the ensuing hurry to sit down.

He'd gotten further than anyone else who'd tried to approach her so far, so that had to be a good sign. Although their conversation had completely died, he'd at least made some progress in sitting next to her. Now all he had to do was revive his ability of speech and come up with an interesting topic that would sustain them both for the rest of the evening. Stiles nervously tapped his fingers on the edge of the chair as the silence between him and Lydia became thicker, he knew that if he didn't speak soon he probably never would. After a few more minutes of his nervous fidgeting and her blank stares, he decided to just go for it, because though there last interaction had been bad, it hadn't been mortifyingly bad, and that was enough of a positive omen for him. "Hey, Lydia, Have you ever see-"

"Dance with me?" She cut him off suddenly, her request sounding more like a demand. The final song before midnight was playing, a slow song for couples, and Stiles had to check behind him to make sure it was actually him she was addressing.

"I… me?" he asked incredulously, despite the fact that there was no one else who she could be speaking to. She simply pursed her lips and nodded her head in response. Stiles stared at her open mouthed for a minute, before frantically scrambling up out of his seat and extending a hand to the still-sitting Lydia who looked at him skeptically for a few seconds, before rolling her eyes and using his hand to pull herself up.

As they moved towards the couple-filled dance floor, an earth shattering thought occurred to Stiles: he had no idea how to dance. None. Well, he could do the basic steps and movements, but attempting it without stepping on her feet at least once? He had to find a way to back out. But did he really want to? It was very likely he'd never get the chance to dance with Lydia Martin again if he passed it up now. What was a few awkward minutes of clumsy dancing in the long run? Lydia obviously sensed his hesitation, for her eyes narrowed slightly and she asked, "You can dance, right?"

Stiles laughed in what he hoped was a dismissive manner, "Of course I can dance. I've been dancing since I was born. In fact, I'm so good at dancing I guess you coul-"

"Stiles, you don't know how to dance, do you?" She said despairingly, clearly seeing through his lie.

"Err, no. Not exactly, anyway." He admitted. He chanced a glance at Lydia and, rather than look annoyed as he would have expected, she wore an undeniably amused expression.

"Right, then you've got some learning to do." Dragging him by the hand to an empty spot on the floor, she took both of his hands in her small ones, "Put your left hand here," she said, placing his left hand on her waist, "And your right hand holds mine," she continued, extending their arms out together. "And now we dance. I'll lead." Added Lydia as an afterthought, seemingly deciding it would not be wise to let Stiles lead due to his lack of previous experience and proclivity for disaster.

Altogether, dancing with Lydia wasn't the horrible wreck he'd thought it would be; by the end of the song he'd only stepped on her feet twice and even she managed a begrudging smile when it became apparent he wasn't a total idiot. Yes, Stiles concluded, it had been a good 5 minutes and 46 seconds. Until the countdown, that was. Stiles hadn't realized how close it was to midnight before the collective count down from ten started all around them.

"Ten!"

Stiles could just make out Scott and Allison in the distance, standing close to each other in an intimate hug.

"Nine!"

He glanced at Lydia through the corner of his eye, and saw she was looking at him expectantly. Surely she didn't want him to kiss her?

"Eight!"

Not that he didn't want to, of course. Just not like this. If he was going to kiss her, he wanted it to be on his own terms, not just because she didn't want to be seen without someone to kiss on New Year's.

"Seven!"

Then again, did it really matter? If she was willing to kiss him now, like so many other things this night, there might not be another opportunity. Surely he should just go with it?

"Six!"

Besides, there was always the chance that he'd be such a good kisser that she'd realize they were perfect for each other and fall madly in love with him.

"Five!"

Stiles' internal monologue was interrupted when Lydia spun round so she was facing him and gave him a questioning look.

"Four!"

He nodded his head, slowly at first, and then vigorously, as if he were scared she'd turn around and walk away at any second. Which, he supposed he was.

"Three!"

Lydia reached out to cup Stiles' face in her hands, effectively stopping him mid nod. He sucked in a breath as she drew her face steadily closer to his, for he could now see her features in extreme detail: from cherry red lips to meticulously shaped eyebrows, she was beyond perfect in that moment.

"Two!"

However pretty the rest of her may have been, Stiles had always considered her eyes the most beautiful part of her. Hazel, with tiny flecks the color of fall leaves extending outwards from her pupil, her eyes reminded him of the way summer would be chased away by the allure of September. The dramatic shift in the weather as it gradually became colder and nights earlier, the way he used to stare into the amber glow of the fire when he was a kid. Her eyes reminded him of home. It was amazing, how one person's eyes could say and mean so much.

"One!"

As Lydia's eyes met his and they held each other's gaze, Stiles forgot about the party happening around them. The only thing he knew in that moment was Lydia, her slightly parted lips getting slowly closer, her compelling eyes slowly closing.

"Zero!"

The room erupted in cheers and applause at the welcome of a New Year, a fresh start. Not that Stiles was aware of anything other than the feel of Lydia's lips against his, or his heart beating erratically within his chest. He still found it difficult to pinpoint the moment their lips had met, or when they'd come apart, and all the time in-between, all he knew for sure was that it was over far too quickly.

In all the time afterwards, Stiles would forever hate himself for not feeling the kiss. He was too busy focusing on the fact that he was kissing Lydia Martin to actually remember what kissing Lydia Martin felt like. As soon as she pulled away, he felt the urge to pull her back; he'd forgotten what her lips tasted like, forgotten the rhythm in which they'd moved over his, forgotten where her hands had been, simply forgotten.

Around them, the last of the couples were breaking apart, Scott and Allison among them. Stiles had so far avoided looking at Lydia; he did not want to see the disgust on her face due to his mediocre kissing skills. It had been his first proper experience, after all.

"Stiles?" Lydia whispered after a few moments of silence, "Stiles, look at me," she pleaded. He reluctantly shifted his gaze up to her face and found her smiling genially at him. "That was your first kiss, wasn't it?" she inquired softly. Stiles felt his breath catch in his throat at the emotion displayed on her face, so he simply nodded a yes in response. Lydia bit down on her lip softly and nodded, "It was nice," she said gently, but Stiles wasn't sure if this was meant as a reassurance to him, or herself.

A few seconds passed in which Stiles openly observed Lydia and, more specifically, the uncharacteristic vulnerability she was showing. He knew this hadn't been her first kiss, far from it, and he was struggling to come up with another reason why she should be this emotional. Surely he hadn't been that bad a kisser? "Anyway, I should go," she said abruptly, turning away from him in hopes of making a quick exit.

Stiles was too surprised to react immediately, but once he'd found his voice he wasted no time in calling out, "What? Lydia, wait! Wait up!"

"What, Stiles?" she said almost exasperatedly, turning around again.

"I… You don't have to leave you know. You could stay here and…" but he trailed off, unsure what exactly it was she was supposed to stay here and do.

Lydia smiled at him pityingly, "No, I think I'll leave now. It was nice being with you though. Thank you."

"Lydia…" he said, almost imploringly, once again trailing off for lack of anything to add.

"See you around, Stiles." She said in a way that indicated a sad finality, before turning around and hurrying out of the door, leaving Stiles' ears ringing with the sound her high heels made against the floor as she walked away from him.

"Three! Two! One! Zero!" Stiles chanted excitedly, just before tilting his head forward so that his lips met Lydia's. He'd learnt a long time ago to appreciate every single moment his lips were in contact with hers, and this was no exception. He focused on the way he held her face in his hands, how her own were resting loosely on his waist, playing with the belt loops on his jeans, as he deepened their kiss. Taking notice of the way her warm lips moved to cover his bottom, before biting down on it softly, Stiles reflected on how lucky he was to be in a relationship with such an amazing woman.

Lydia eventually broke away from him, smiling brilliantly, "Happy New Year, Stiles." She said, cheeks flushed a brilliant red.

"Happy first New Year together, Lydia," he replied smugly, always happy to get one over her.

"Idiot," she laughed, "Although that's not technically true now, is it?" she asked in a voice that suggested he wasn't as clever as he thought.

"What do you mean?"

"Three years ago? At Lexi Lyden's party?" When Stiles showed no signs of recognition, she prompted, "Where I first fell in love with you?"

Recognition dawned on Stiles' features, only to be replaced with confusion, "You did? How? You ran off after I kissed you, didn't you?"

"I think you'll find it was me who kissed you, actually."

"Whatever," he dismissed, "What do you mean 'fell in love' with me? I clearly remember you running away because that kiss was so bad."

"No one had ever kissed me like that before," she answered simply. Stiles gave her a look that clearly said she would need to expand, so she rolled her eyes but continued nevertheless. "It was your first kiss, and it was clear you were nervous and didn't have a clue what you were doing. Don't look like that, it was quite adorable really." She said when she saw Stiles' expression change, "Anyway, the point is, you weren't kissing me because you wanted it to lead to something else. You genuinely wanted to kiss me on New Years' because you knew that's what I wanted. You didn't expect it to lead anywhere; you didn't push for more, you did it because I wanted you to."

"I wanted it too," he countered, feeling slightly guilty for letting her assume otherwise, "I'd wanted to kiss you since 5th grade."

"Not like that you didn't." She said knowingly, "You wanted it to mean something, which I guess it ended up doing, but the point still stands. You put me in front of you, and I'm not sure that was something a guy had ever done for me up until then."

Stiles wasn't sure how to respond to that, but thinking back, it certainly explained a lot. "I was in love with you," he stated simply, shrugging it off as best he could.

"Was?" She questioned teasingly, "Aren't you still?"

"Of course I am!" he exclaimed, feigning indignancy.

"Say it." She whispered.

Stiles rolled his eyes, "I love you, Lydia Martin."

She smiled, "I love you too, Stiles Stilinski."