A/N: This is set after 3A, I'd say starting in early November. Canon-divergence and OC's – everything from 3x13 forward is disregarded. New characters and backstories will be introduced as the story goes. Rated T for now. Fluff coming your way :)

= As of January 2019, this story is ON HOLD, and so it will be picked up once some of the on-going stories are finished. =

Chapter 1

"YOU KISSED LYDIA?"

It's been an odd day. It's not raining but the November sky is completely clouded, threatening to let the water fall at any time and it's chilly, windy. It's nothing but a good day to stay indoors and it's Saturday. There are no supernatural threats as far as they know, so Stiles called Scott to spend the afternoon. It's been a while since he enjoyed the company of his best friend, just the two of them. For some reason, today feels strange to Stiles; it's not like he has a bad feeling about it, not bad anyway, but there's something he can't quite put his finger on.

That feeling grows when, go figure, for some stupid reason Stiles decided to tell Scott about the kiss in the locker room. He blushes involuntarily, trying not to give in to how happy he feels about it, even if it had been, well, to save his life and not even remotely romantic. "Technically, she kissed me," he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck.

Scott pats his best friend on the back, grinning like a complete idiot, like the cute puppy he is really, and then sits on Stiles' bed, looking back at Stiles in awe. "Congrats, dude. We've been waiting for this for ages, this is great! You're finally catching up to your ten year plan."

Stiles sits on the chair by his desk, huffing as he turns on his laptop. "Well, no," he frowns.

Scott almost shoots up from the bed again. "No? What do you mean, no?"

Stiles taps his fingers on the table to distract himself, focusing on how consumed the wood looks. His desk is way too old; maybe he should get a new one. "Scott, Lydia is sort of with Aiden, you know that," he mumbles.

Scott looks like he's in shock. "But she kissed you."

"I'm aware of that," Stiles replies with a scowl. "I just… I don't know, we never really talked about it. Because we kissed and yeah, she helped me go through my panic attack and all that, but then we had to sacrifice ourselves to save our parents and we came out of it mostly unharmed aside from this sweet darkness around our hearts that we'll have for the rest of our lives, which is just really nice, by the way," he babbles. "And I don't know, I don't want to bring it up if she doesn't want to talk about it."

"Dude, I'm pretty sure there are other ways to stop a panic attack, you and I even know a few. And come on, Lydia is crazy smart. She sees you're having trouble breathing and the first thing that occurs to her is to kiss you?"

Stiles types his username and password a little more harshly than necessary, the sounds he's making on the keyboard resonating through the room. "Maybe she panicked," he says, shrugging his shoulders like it doesn't matter. Right. "It was a very stressful situation, Scott. She probably didn't even know what she was doing…"

"Stop it, Stiles. Stop making excuses and just go talk to her."

"I can't," he blurts out, turning on his chair to face his best friend. "I can't do it, Scott."

"You two are friends, Stiles."

"Exactly. We've become good friends. We're closer than we have ever been, I can't ruin this, dude…"

Scott arguments back. Does Stiles not understand how important this is? "Friends talk about things. And friends most definitely do not kiss each other."

"Well, we are not talking about this. And we didn't kiss each other, she kissed me."

Scott groans. "Dude, just go find her and kiss her."

Stiles gets up from the chair and starts pacing in the middle of his bedroom, heart pounding in his chest because he knows Scott has a point but he'd never forgive himself if he were to end his friendship with Lydia over such a trivial thing as a kiss which, as far as he's aware, wasn't related in any way to how Lydia might feel for him. "Scott, just leave it. Maybe I shouldn't have told you…" He just did because he knows Allison found out. At least he thinks so; she's been sending him weird looks for almost a month and Lydia seems a little bothered – almost embarrassed, and we're talking 'blushing and little giggles sometimes' embarrassed - when she does. And even though neither Lydia or Allison said a word to him about it, Stiles finds himself being nudged by Allison sometimes as the brunette glances at the redhead suggestively. Scott only didn't know because Allison has been seeing Isaac and they've not been talking much lately.

"Of course you should have told me, Stiles. In fact, I'm offended you didn't tell me sooner." Scott is not even hiding his amusement. "And you know what?" He takes his phone out of his pocket. "I'm gonna call Lydia right now and ask if she wants to hang out…"

"Don't!" Stiles lunches forward to try and take the phone from Scott's hand to no avail; Scott dodges at the right moment and grins at his best friend. Stiles is about to give it another try when the doorbell rings, startling them.

"Go open the door," Scott says, defiant.

"Don't you dare make that call, Scott. I'll kill you," he murmurs, stomping his foot as he rests his hands on his waist. The doorbell rings again. "Just a minute," he yells, edgy. Who's at the door even? They weren't expecting anyone and it's really bad timing now that Scott decided to be an ass. "I'm serious, Scott, don't call her."

Scott laughs and nods, entertained. "Just go get the door, man. Maybe it's Lydia," he mocks.

Stiles stretches his neck in that weird way he does when he's frustrated and starts walking away as the doorbell roars one more time. "I'm coming," he yells again as he walks down the stairs. "Jesus," he murmurs to himself.

As annoyed and exasperated as he might be when he finally opens the freaking front door, nothing could have prepared him for what he finds and Stiles is left speechless, just staring down. And when he hears a car's engine being started, one he hadn't noticed was parked on his driveway, his attention is diverted to it. He sees a woman behind the wheel, in her late twenties, maybe thirties, and she appears to be crying. Stiles barely has time to do anything before the woman slowly nods at him and starts driving away. Stiles walks around what was left on his front porch, careful not to step on anything, and runs down his front yard to try and reach the car. "No, don't. Wait!" he screams, but the car gains distance on him easily. Running back to the house, he stops by his front door in panic. "Scott? SCOTT!"

The Alpha stumbles down the stairs. "What? What is it, Stiles?" Scott almost bumps into Stiles, who is frozen in place looking down at his feet. Glancing down too, Scott finds what Stiles is distracted about, rendered astonished as well. "It's- It's…"

"It's not Lydia," Stiles mumbles as he gets down on his knees to take a better look at the baby that's asleep on the baby carrier placed on the floor of his front porch, and who was left behind with a huge diaper bag. A letter on top of it catches Stiles' attention.