Author's note: Written for Kaitlyn, little-loving-lefty on tumblr. Expect quite a few updates/new fics in the next couple of days.
Happy holidays, everyone
Lydia stretches her arms high above her head, trying to relax her muscles to dissipate the numbness from being in the same position for quite a while.
Stiles eyes with interest from where he is by the desk, reveling about how comfortable Lydia is with him now, in a large sweater and leggings, make-up free and her hair tied almost carelessly, legs crossed under her on his bed as they go almost four hours into their studying session, the banshee just being herself around him like it's the most natural thing she's ever done in her life, and it's been more and more recurrent now that they've been at Stanford for a few months, by themselves and with no one to judge them.
She lets out a hiss, her back aching a little in discomfort. Stiles uses it as an excuse immediately, closing his laptop and getting up from his chair. "I think it's time for a break, don't you?"
Lydia rolls her eyes. It's the third time he's tried this in the last hour and she can't let him distract her. She won't. She needs to study. "Stiles, I'm not finished on my notes and finals are coming up, you know that."
Stiles goes sit next to her on the bed. "I know, but if anyone is ready to ace those exams, that's you, Lyds. I'm 100% sure of it," he offers, a cheeky grin on his face. "And besides, you can always revise later. You've known everything for months! It's just a little break, alright? And we still have a bit of the afternoon left…" he says, hopeful.
She stops his rambling, actually wanting to loosen up a bit. "Define little."
Stiles beams. He knows he's won. "Well, it'll always depend on what you compare it with," he smiles, adding a little wink and bumping his shoulder with hers playfully.
Lydia intended on rolling her eyes, but instead she blushes.
(Stiles winking is the cutest thing she's ever seen, alright? She can't help herself.)
He blushes too, surprised by her reaction. It's something that's been happening more and more often lately, and he can't help but to believe that they're getting closer - and fast - to whatever they're destined to be. He's been waiting it out and Lydia seems to be doing the same thing but maybe it'll come sooner than they thought.
Before things get awkward, Lydia breaks the gaze and looks away, her sight focusing on his bedroom window instead. She gets up from the bed, intrigued by what she sees.
Stiles, of course, follows her.
"Look, Stiles. It's snowing," she exclaims excitedly.
He peeks over her shoulder to find snow molding into their view of his parking lot, the park right next to it covered in white. "Lets go downstairs," he murmurs, all too close to her ear.
"We should be studying," she tells him, still looking out the window.
"Come on," he insists playfully, getting a little closer to her. Lydia shakes her head, her pursed lips giving in to a smile when Stiles continues murmuring. "It's almost Christmas and it's snowing…"
(She hates him.)
"Pleaseeeeeee," he whines. "If you…" He thinks for a few moments, trying to persuade her. "Tell you what. If you come with me to check out the snow, I'll let you throw snowballs at me," he jokes, wiggling his eyebrows playfully. "It'll help you relax, come on. You deserve it."
He places his hands on her shoulders and massages for a little while (fantastically, she should say), and Lydia finds it hard to repress a moan. Thankfully, the only thing that she can't help but to let out is a sigh, which isn't as bad as the alternative.
"See, you totally need a break," he mocks.
Lydia bites on her lower lip before giggling, walking away from his touch to find her jacket and gloves. "Well, if I get to hit you with snowballs, then it's on," she teases.
"Hey, I said you could throw them," he mumbles, picking up his jacket as well. "No one said anything about you hitting the target. Which you won't, by the way," he defies jokingly.
Lydia pats his chest as she walks past him and out the door. "We'll see about that."
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Stiles would find it endearing that Lydia is holding onto him for dear life in an attempt not to fall if she wasn't, in fact, making him lose his balance right along with her. He still lets her clutch to his arm, of course, happily, and he likes it a little too much until he realizes that she actually had a plan, ditching him when they're in the middle of the parking lot to start running away from him, clumsily because of the snow, to find shelter behind her car.
It isn't until a snowball hits him in the stomach that he realizes what she had in mind all along.
He's in love with the devil!
He tries to protect himself behind Roscoe, quickly looking for another alternative when Lydia decides to hit the Jeep on purpose just to tease him.
("Not Roscoe, Lyds. Don't you dare!"
She throws two snowballs at once in response.)
The game goes on for a while, both making the parking lot their battlefield, happy grins on their faces, rosy cheeks giving them away, laughter echoing as the sun starts setting. It isn't until after much dodging and playing cat and mouse that Stiles sneaks up from behind her when he catches Lydia distracted.
Time goes still when his arms wrap around her from behind, the heat of the moment putting away his inhibitions of making a move on her.
Lydia doesn't try as hard as she probably could to escape his grip, instead looking over her shoulder to find his face so close to hers that she can't help but to smile wide. "Will you let me go?"
It's a simple question but it feels like more than that.
His answer does too. "No."
Lydia chuckles. "Never?"
Stiles shakes his head no, pursing his lips as all breath escapes him suddenly. On his hold, Lydia goes still as well, her gaze falling from his eyes to his lips just begging to be kissed.
Before she can make a move, he does, leaning in so slowly that to Lydia it feels like it took an eternity. It's a soft kiss, barely a graze of lips and the only thing that both do at the same time is to hold on to it, linger for a fleeting moment before they open their eyes and accept that this changes everything.
Granted, it's not a big gesture or a proclamation of their love for the other, not per se, but it matters just as much. They were always better with the little things, anyway.
Lydia pulls away with a smile on her lips that Stiles mirrors, his hands on Lydia's waist now that his previous hold on her is completely forgotten, and Lydia turns around to face him properly, her cheeks heating up far quicker than she'd like. "Was that your plan for kissing me this Christmas?" she teases. "Wait for it to snow and insist with me to come downstairs so you could pretend you were any good at hitting me with a snowball and tire me with this pointless game until you caught me distracted and could hold me, and then kiss me?"
Stiles chuckles. "Okay, first, I couldn't chance it on the weather. It's been super unreliable lately." Lydia rolls her eyes but gives in to a smile, moving slightly closer to him. "And then, I am good at it. I hit you a few times, didn't I?"
"Barely," she mocks.
"The snow in your hair disagrees," he murmurs, brushing the snow off the strawberry blonde locks that are falling from her ponytail. "And it wasn't a pointless game. You needed a break, I provided one for you. And you did have fun, don't think I haven't noticed how giggly you were."
Lydia opens her mouth to protest, amused, but Stiles continues with a goofy grin on his face. "I believe the words you're looking for are thank you." Lydia laughs and Stiles licks his lips absently, leaning in again and resting his forehead against hers, feeling confident. "And uh-" his voice comes out raspy, "I was actually waiting until we found ourselves under the mistletoe to give it a try," he confesses.
Lydia smiles warmly, cheeks bright red. "No need for that." Her nose brushes his softly, her eyes fluttering closed when he sighs to her parted lips. "If you want to kiss me, I'm not stopping you," she murmurs.
And so, he does.
And when he pulls away this time, after a kiss that lasted longer than the other, he's smiling bright. "I should let you go back to your studying now," he mocks. "You still haven't finished revising your notes and..."
"You are such a tease," she admonishes playfully.
He dismisses it with an endearing grin, cheeks pink all over. "Oh, I don't know. You were so focused-"
"Well, I can't concentrate now!"
"It's not my fault," he replies, holding her hand.
"It kind of is," she quips, tilting her head.
"Can I make it up to you with some Netflix, then? My couch is really comfy."
She knows. Half of her free time is spent there.
"If you add some hot chocolate in there and a blanket, then definitely yes." Stiles squeezes her hand in response, pulling her along as they start making their way back inside. "And Stiles?" He stops to face her and Lydia doesn't hesitate in kissing his cheek. "Happy early Christmas."
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Author's note: Please let me know what you think :)