For the prompt: "Person A is planning to take a shower but Person B steals it from them at the last second. Person A threatens to join them if Person B doesn't give up the shower. Person B thinks they're bluffing. It turns out that they're not."
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There's another supernatural threat in town. What's new, right? It's only been deadly on occasion, unheeded for the most part, but the thing is that this time it ended up threatening Lydia's mom and the pack had no choice but to let the woman in on the supernatural. If it had been weird telling the Sheriff about it, Natalie didn't fare much better. She kept looking at her daughter like she was some sort of alien, like the girl had lost her mind and everything the pack was telling her was a plain joke. It took an entire night of Lydia explaining everything to her mom until exhaustion hit them. She had had to see the werewolves turning right in front of her eyes, and even then she wasn't entirely convinced. The next morning, when she had finally come to terms with what was now her new reality, Natalie decided to take a vacation, a few weeks off from all the madness. Lydia understood.
The Sheriff invited Lydia to stay with them. She could have just stayed alone in her own house while her mom was out of town; it's not like it would be the first time. Still, staying at the Stilinski's would not only be safer for her but she would also have company. And Stiles' dad might have had something up his sleeve – and he can't be blamed really. It was just a matter of time, anyway. Stiles has been single for months now. He and the werecoyote broke it off during the summer and everyone assumed that Stiles and Lydia would get together then, but to everyone's exasperation they didn't. They grew closer, they did, but they seemed to need a little push so the Sheriff invited the girl to stay over.
The first week went by just fine. They rode together to and from school and ended up studying in one of the rooms until late every night. They divided their chores, spent some of their free time together watching TV or playing videogames. Once Lydia even fell asleep on his bed after a banshee episode that had left her worn out and Stiles didn't have it in his heart to move her. The second week, however, proved more challenging. It was only a matter of time until they started bickering. At first it was playful; later on, not so innocent. Lydia started making mean comments about the Jeep – mostly because she knew it would get on Stiles' nerves and yes, like the Sheriff, she was pushing Stiles to do something about their friendship because this whole situation was getting her very, very frustrated -, Stiles started getting irritated about all the time Lydia would take to get ready for school every day. Lydia stated often that he should have his bedroom more clean and Stiles started getting mad at her because twice she ended his cereal and the poor boy was left starving – yes, he's dramatic, whatever.
The Sheriff didn't mind it one bit. In fact, he had stayed seated longer than usual over a meal several times already just to see their banter while he sipped on his coffee. The real challenge for him was to not let it show on his features because it was like he was watching a romantic comedy, mainly the part where the protagonists seem to hate each other, and boy does he like romantic comedies. For Stiles and Lydia it stopped being fun after a few days and Lydia didn't really know what to do about it. She'd tried – okay, maybe not too bluntly – to show him that she cares about him, that she likes him, maybe more, but Stiles always seemed to get out of the conversation before saying something back, before actually doing something about it and that was making Lydia nervous because maybe she missed her chance with him and it saddened her. Stiles, on the other hand, didn't want to screw it up so he would just let her be. For Stiles, friendship is more than enough.
The third week is the worst. Not only are they edgy and cranky all the time, but Stiles has the (mis)fortune of catching Lydia naked for the first time since he found her wandering around in the woods long ago. And it was not his fault, not necessarily. Because, you see, ever since Lydia has been staying there, Stiles and Lydia are in sync like clockwork. They get up around the same hour, want to get a shower at the same time, head downstairs for breakfast side by side. They only separate when she has to get ready for school which takes her an hour, and even if Stiles takes that time to constantly yell at her to hurry up, he also reads a comic or tidies his room a little bit – not because of Lydia, of course not.
Their problem for the last few days has been the shower. At first, Stiles would just let Lydia hit it first, being a gentleman and all that. Now, he wants to be the first every other day because she takes so long in the bathroom that Stiles was left with lukewarm, almost cold water two days in a row and it's winter for Christ's sake! And it isn't an unfair request; they're dividing everything else. They could easily arrange for it. Problem is that Lydia doesn't want to, especially because she knows that if she keeps pushing him he'll break eventually and they need to solve their situation asap for the sake of her own sanity.
Stiles has been trying to get to the bathroom before Lydia for the last five days now. He figures that if he's already there, Lydia will have no choice but to let him take a shower first but the sneaky bitch – don't judge him on his choice of words, he's been in a mood nonstop for a week – always gets there first. The thing is that three days ago – again, not his fault – he thought that he'd finally made it. Her bedroom door was closed when he passed by it so he assumed she was still asleep - he might have even performed a little victory dance in the hallway -, but when he got to the bathroom Lydia was already there, bare naked with water dripping from her completely wet body as she was just getting out of the shower. She blushed slightly but didn't let it bother her. She just grabbed a towel to wrap around her frame like it was the most normal thing to do, like Stiles barged in on the bathroom all the time while she was there. She was even about to make a snarky comment at Stiles – who was frozen in place for several seconds, mouth agape, his face completely red just watching her- when he suddenly turned around and left.
And that wasn't even the worst part. That came in the form of Lydia materializing in his room about five minutes later while he was jerking off because of what he'd seen back in the bathroom. She just meant to find him and say that it was okay, that it wasn't a big deal but yeah, she walked in on that – and he's a teenage boy, she should have expected it (and maybe she did). Much like Stiles, Lydia was now the one with red all over her cheeks, biting her lip at the sight of him. She just couldn't look away. And much like Lydia, Stiles kept doing his business even if he was internally freaking out. She stayed for a few seconds before decency hit her and she left, closing the door behind her.
Since then, they have barely spoken and it's weird. Well, weirder, because they are always together, only now they don't talk. They have meals in silence, they go to and from school in silence, they study in silence, they watch TV together in silence – preferably on opposite ends of the couch. They are hurting and it's stupid because they miss each other and the other is right there.
The Sheriff doesn't comment much but still tries to make it work between them. Today, Stiles made an effort to wake up earlier than usual so he can finally hit the shower first; he just heads downstairs to get a glass of water before finally making it to the bathroom. He even has everything with him: fresh clothes, his cologne, a comb (not that he uses it much), even his watch and his shoes - oh, he'll take his time in that bathroom and Lydia will have to wait for him, alright! Finding his dad in the kitchen, the older man teases his son as soon as the boy is done with his water.
"I have to leave for the Station. You guys are good? There's lunch in the fridge."
"Dad, it's fine. It's Sunday. We're not gonna do anything the whole day except for lying down and eating, probably." The irony on this will hit him later.
"Okay, then take care." The Sheriff starts heading towards the kitchen door. "Oh and kiddo, if you're going to hit that shower before Lydia today, you'd better hurry. I think I'm hearing noises upstairs," his dad says with a smirk.
The glass almost shatters as Stiles places it on the counter and gathers his things quickly, running past the man and upstairs as he mutters I'm gonna kill her under his breath. And there it is, his opportunity right there because he sees Lydia opening the door of the room she's been staying in, still sleepy and dragging her feet on the ground, and even if she's standing exactly halfway to the bathroom, Stiles knows that today is his time. Hearing the front door closing as his dad heads out seems to be his signal. Lydia doesn't see him and starts heading towards the bathroom only to stop at a halt when the bathroom door is closed shut on her face by Stiles, who just stormed past her in a frantic run.
She knocks on the door. "Stiles, come on."
"Nope, no way. Not today," he shouts from inside.
"Stiles, please," she pouts, rubbing her eyes to send away the drowsiness.
"No. I'm sorry, Lyds." He doesn't even mean it, bitter as he's feeling. He takes his clothes off as she keeps knocking on the door.
"Stiles, get out of there right now or I'll…"
"You'll what?" he bites back, getting inside the shower and starting the water.
She waits a few seconds to answer, thinking. She's sick of it, this uncharted territory they're in. She's never dealt with something like this before and it's driving her crazy so she decides to do what she does best: be Lydia Martin. "Either you get out or I'll get in," she says with a grin.
"Are you kidding? Can't you just let me have the shower first this one time? Are you really that stubborn?" he whines, his tone a little more melodramatic than necessary.
"I'm serious, Stiles. I'm not saying it again."
He doesn't want her to win, he really doesn't, but someone – something – seems to be excited with the idea of Lydia getting inside of that shower with him. Stiles looks down. Apparently, his erection is coming to life and Stiles ends up pulling the shower curtain all the way, embarrassed even if Lydia is on the other side of that door and can't see him. He can't really help that thinking about what happened a few days ago makes him feel aroused. But no, she will not get the upper hand. She's bluffing, anyway. "You are not coming in," he states assertively.
Lydia is starting to get annoyed and stomps her foot on the ground. "Stiles, give it up!"
He allows the hot water to soothe his tense muscles, running his hands through his now wet hair several times like it will dissipate his nervousness. It doesn't. He's feeling more frustrated by the second. "No!"
His tone is imperative and that's it for Lydia. Without making much of a sound, she turns the doorknob slowly and gets in. Stiles doesn't seem to notice her presence so she closes the door silently behind her and places her fresh clothes next to his.
She's already undressing quietly when Stiles, all smug, calls for her in a raised tone, assuming that Lydia is still outside. "Wow, did that actually work?" Lydia smiles to herself and lets him ramble; he'll see in no time. He continues. "See? It's not so fun when you have to wait outside now is it?"
She's only on her underwear when she speaks. "Actually, I think I've made myself pretty clear."
The bottle of shampoo that Stiles had on his hand falls to the ground and he almost chokes on the running water because for a while there he just stares at the curtain openmouthed, unable to move. Regaining his senses, Stiles slides the curtain to the side just enough to peek at Lydia, keeping his body hidden. "Oh my god. What the fuck, Lydia?"
Like last time, she blushes. Only this time it's not because she got caught, but because Stiles is the one who's wet and god, it's doing things to her. She unclasps her bra behind her back and Stiles turns around instantly, somewhat shy. Lydia laughs. "I told you. You didn't come out so I'm coming in. It's simple really."
"Will you just leave?" He's panicking. He should have known; Lydia doesn't back down on anything, ever.
Completely naked, she combs her hair with her fingers. "Oh, I'm not getting out of here until we sort a few things out."
"Lydia…"
The way he said her name sounded like some sort of warning but she doesn't care. Grabbing the curtain on the opposite side of where Stiles had appeared, she opens it enough to let herself in, gaining a squeal from Stiles. She can't help but to laugh again.
He just looks back at her in disbelief. "What are you doing?" he asks exasperated, trying somewhat in vain to cover his private parts from her burning gaze.
Lydia provokes him. Why shouldn't she, really? Moving past him, she gets under the stream and lets the water caress her body, her hair becoming damp in slow motion, turning from auburn to a dark brown. Stiles doesn't know if it's some kind of optical illusion or if he's becoming delirious, but Lydia being so close to him, naked and covered in droplets of water might be the most beautiful he has ever seen her. "We need to talk, Stiles."
And there she is, ruining it. "Do we have to do this now?"
"Yes, now!"
He throws his hands in the air, gesturing exaggeratedly. "I hardly think this is the place or time to…"
Lydia interrupts him. "Is that a pun?" She asks, looking down at his extremely evident erection with a smirk.
Stiles blushes and turns his back to her, looking at Lydia over his shoulder. "I'm gonna kill you."
She bites her lip. "You know, I'm fine with this view too," she admits, admiring his ass. Taking a step forward, she traces his shoulders first with her fingertips, then his back. Stiles tenses under her touch and his breathing turns shallow. Grabbing his forearm gently, Lydia makes him turn around to face her. "Why aren't we doing this?"
"What?" he whispers.
"Us, Stiles. Why are we holding back?"
Her features are much more serious now and it only makes Stiles more nervous. "I… I don't… Lydia…"
She gets a little closer and grabs his hands in hers, lowering her head in an attempt to hide her blush. "I don't think I can be more obvious than this," she chuckles. "I thought we had something," she confesses.
He has waited to hear those words for so long that he just looks down at her in awe. "We do," he murmurs. When she looks up at him, Stiles exhales sharply. "I just… I- I don't want to mess this up. It's you, you know?"
Even if not necessarily a confession, those might be the most sincere words she has ever heard. Getting on her tiptoes, she plants her lips on his. It's a soft, slow kiss but it still carries all of their worries and concerns, their feelings poured into it. They're smiling when they part and Stiles lowers his head until their foreheads are touching. While Lydia lets go of his hands to have hers stay on his waist, Stiles' move up to caress her cheeks, his thumbs moving in lazy circles on her cheekbones making her blush. "Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" she laughs, another pun concerning Stiles not going unnoticed to the both of them.
He grins and steals a kiss. "I hate you."
She smiles back and kisses his cheek, then his lips again. "Well, I hate you too."
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Maybe they ended up having sex in the shower because Lydia wanted to pick up the bottle of shampoo that Stiles had let slip to the floor earlier and she made sure to get on her knees right in front of him painfully slow to do so. And maybe they talked things out in his room right after and figured they were being complete idiots to have their relationship slip through their fingers when in reality they shouldn't waste any more time than they already had. Maybe they confessed their feelings for each other on his bed while curled up together. Maybe they made love for the first time after that. And maybe they spent the rest of their day leisurely doing nothing, occasionally making out; the Sheriff wouldn't know. What he does know is that he gets home at the end of the day to find Stiles and Lydia napping on the couch, spooning, fingers entwined and so close to one another that there's no way that they aren't in love. And for the next days that Lydia stays with them there's still banter and they still bicker sometimes, but their smiles give it away.
At least they don't argue about the shower anymore.
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A/N: Feel free to leave me a review to let me know what you thought of the story.
Until next time xx
Susana
