Chapter 1

Everyone knows about Stiles Stilinski's crush on Lydia Martin.

It's not like he's yelling it at the wind; not anymore, not for years now. But everyone knows. Neither has done anything about it. Stiles hasn't tried to make a move; Lydia pretended it didn't exist. They are acquaintances. They never actually met. They go to the same high school and that's it. He's the dorky, uncoordinated best friend of the captain of the Lacrosse team; she's the queen, a goddess with brains in high heels, the ruler. He has had only two girlfriends; she lost count of her conquers by now. So it comes as a surprise that in their senior year, when they are at someone's house for some party, after spinning the bottle, they are both picked up to play seven minutes in heaven and she doesn't dismiss him.

She knows she should. It probably won't be good for her track record but fuck it. It's her last year at Beacon Hill's High and she came to the party to have fun. Also, the Stilinski boy has grown hot over the last few years and she can't really ignore it anymore, so why not? Isn't it what he's been wanting for years? Might as well give him a little taste.

She gets up from where she was sitting and extends her hand to him, smiling shyly. When his eyes meet hers, her heart skips a beat. She has never really looked him in the eyes and god his eyes are gorgeous. He is hesitant to take her hand at first but she nods reassuringly so he takes it. Standing up, Lydia can't say she ever really noticed how tall he is in comparison with her small frame; she barely reaches his shoulders. She couldn't, also, have known how firm his hand would feel in hers, or how warm. For some reason she blushes. She's about to get into a dark closet with him after all.

Once the door is closed and locked behind them and they can't see a thing, someone outside lets them know the clock's ticking. Stiles scratches the back of his neck like he always seems to do when he's nervous. Lydia feels edgy; she's not used to an uncontrolled environment and that makes her a little uncomfortable. She's apparently not the only one.

"We don't have to do anything."

Those are the first words he ever spoke to her. She makes sure her reply leaves no room for further interpretation. "We can, if you want. Anything."

"Anything?"

She can't even see him and she knows he probably looks smug. She can't even see him and he's already doing things to her. She is smirking as she gets closer to him. Placing one hand on his chest, she pushes him until he's against the wall. "Anything, Stilinski. It's your chance. You better make it worth it."

He doesn't need to be told twice. Cupping her cheeks, he kisses her. And he's not even being as gentle as he always thought he would be on their first kiss. If seven minutes, six thirty now, is all he might get in his life, he'll take it. She kisses him back eagerly, parting her lips easily for him, surprised by how good of a kisser he is. How had she not known about it? Her hands find the hem of his shirt and slid under it and, surprise again, those are some abs the Stilinski boy has been hiding.

Even while he's kissing her, her, he grins. And because he's messing with their kiss she bites his lower lip, playful. The moan that escapes his throat makes her insides twitch. He grabs her waist and pushes her against the opposite wall. Entwining her fingers behind his neck, she pulls him down for another kiss. Stiles grabs her ass and pulls her up.

She has to admit that, when she wraps her legs around his waist, his pressure does feel good, too good, especially now that he started kissing her neck. She is not too successful to repress a moan of her own. He plants smooth kisses on her skin while his hands squeeze her thighs and she's grasping his hair.

Someone knocks on the door. "Five minutes," they say.

She whispers in his ear, her voice a little hoarse. "If you want anything else, you'd better hurry. We don't have much time."

He doesn't let go of her when he backs away from the wall. He paces around the small closet looking for some sort of counter, a flat surface where he can sit her. Finding it, he gently lowers Lydia so that she's sitting on the edge. He's the one biting her lip now, pulling softly. He starts unbuttoning her shirt; one, two, three buttons, then stops, his hands still. While he's thinking, planning, her hands bring his face close to hers again. She can't seem to have enough of those lips. It's different with him, she notices. The way his skin melts with her own in every place they touch, the way they linger on their kisses… He kisses her good now, both their hands on the other's waist pulling them impossibly closer. She kisses him back the same way, slowing their rhythm a little to make the most of it. She never thought she'd want to kiss someone so bad, let alone him, but she has to say she likes it, the feeling of being wanted like that.

When they are both breathless, they pull apart panting only long enough to kiss again. If they were somewhere else this would be the part where they'd be looking into each other's eyes and she knows this would be when she'd probably regret being in a closet with Stiles Stilinski. Not because she thinks less of him or because she's ashamed of it because she's not, but because she knows he has feelings for her and she doesn't want to see him hurt. Not that she wouldn't consider giving him a chance, she just doesn't know how to reciprocate such feelings, she never did. She might be considering it now, when he's grabbing her and it feels like a soft touch, when his lips and his tongue seem to fit perfectly with hers and moving in sync, when her heart is beating faster because of him.

Another knock. "Three minutes."

He's trying not to get too excited. He'll have to leave that closet soon and he'd rather do that without a bulge in his pants. He chooses to focus on her, give her a taste; it's his chance after all and it's not like they have much time anyways. Parting from her mouth again, he first kisses her jaw until he reaches her neck. Then, he nibbles at her ear, licking and kissing gently just below her earlobe.

When his fingers trail down her neck, she shivers. He whispers in her ear. "Can I bite?"

She can hear the smile on his lips. God, she wishes she could see him right now. "Yes." He has already earned it.

She starts kissing his neck too while he follows down her neck to her collarbone kissing every inch. Moving her shirt out of the way a little, he bites her left shoulder at the same time she bites his neck and their luck is that by biting the other they are muffling their own moans, or someone out there would think they'd be doing something else inside that closet. His hands start trailing up her legs, his fingernails leaving a stream of fire on their path from behind her knees until they reach her inner thighs. She gasps. Kissing her once again before kneeling, he whispers again. "Anywhere?"

Their foreheads are touching so Stiles knows she's nodding. Another kiss, deeper this time, has Lydia forgetting her surroundings. For a second, she's not even sure what her name is and then he's on his knees and spreading her legs, not before asking her to "Be quiet".

"One minute."

He's never been so grateful for her choice of garment; a skirt, as always. Stiles kisses her inner thighs reverently. He chooses her right leg, softly touching her skin until he gets so close to her sex that her breath quickens and then, when he's oh so close, he bites the flesh of her inner thigh, sending all kinds of sensations everywhere in her body. Her nails dig deep on his neck and she bites her lip hard not to let another moan escape.

She pulls him up. She knows they are running out of time and she needs to kiss him again one last time before they get interrupted. His hand rests on her leg, his thumb caressing her skin tenderly on the spot where he just marked her while he kisses her slowly one last time.

"Time's up."

Someone opens the door and gives them a few seconds to recompose, leaving it slightly ajar, enough for them to have a glimpse of the other. They both blush. Stiles buttons up her shirt and Lydia fixes his hair.

Stiles leaves the closet first, not before Lydia steals a quick kiss. Outside, everyone is cheering because he looks flushed, so he must have gotten some. He leaves the room to find the kitchen. He's already there when he hears commotion again in the room he just left, so Lydia must have taken a little longer to get out of the closet. Stiles smiles to himself.

Grabbing a bottle of water, he drinks avidly. He's thirsty and he's hot but the water doesn't seem to do much to help his case.

"Can I have one?"

He turns around to find Lydia standing behind him, rosy cheeks and a smile on her lips. He can't help but smile back. "Here," he says, giving her a bottle. He waits until she drinks all of it just like he did. She's thirsty too.

When she finishes, she gets closer to him to put the bottle on the counter and whisper "One hour, my place. I expect a matching hickey on the left" only loud enough for Stiles to hear. Turning around on her heels Lydia leaves, glancing over her shoulder right before she's out the door.

Turns out anything might get him everything. Stiles couldn't look smugger if he tried.