Life was so much easier when Stiles didn't have a 5'3 sexbomb prancing around his apartment.
Long gone are the days he could marathon Star Wars with a hand down his sweatpants in peace and without judgement, or stare at his conspiracy board for hours until his eyes blurred and beer bottles littered his feet. Those days were no more.
Now he was constantly aware of her presence, like a prickling feeling on the back of his neck. His room smells like the sweet honeysuckle bath wash that sits next to his shampoo in the shower. She could be heard in the other room, humming low under her breath, padding barefoot across the floorboards.
He couldn't escape her, and this morning was no exception.
Stiles turned into the living room, freezing mid yawn. Lydia was stretching, hands palm down on a yoga mat, ass raised in the air.
Now that was quite the Sunrise Salutation.
"Morning!" she says casually, greeting him from between her legs with a smile.
"O-oh yeah, morning." he stutters, quickly moving to the kitchen cabinets to grab a glass of water.
She rises from her position, sweeping her long red locks into a perfectly messy ponytail, and he looks away again when he sees her rib cage stretch at the movement, chest rising and falling in a patterned sports bra.
He's known her for approximately less than a week and he's already seen more of her body than he ever expected to.
Silently, he hands her a cup of water and she gives a small smile in thanks.
"So," she says after drinking deeply. "What's on the agenda for today?"
"I have to go into the department, complete some paperwork, and then Allison and I have an interrogation scheduled at two, and then we were going to do a few patrols but before that I think we're going to do some drills and workouts-"
"Are you always this busy?" she cuts him off, and he gives her a once over before shrugging his shoulders.
"I love this town, and I love my job."
"What does drills and workouts entail?"
"Working out and going to the shooting range."
"Shooting range?"
The corner of Stiles' mouth begin to rise. "Here, why don't I just show you?"
She has never liked guns. They're very loud and very heavy, and her stomach plummets every time she feels the weight of one in her hand. But when Stiles' lithe fingers move over the metal, constructing and deconstructing like artwork, she pushes through her hesitation. It's hard not to notice how in control he is. He knows the ins and outs of the weapon, everything from the name to the year, and he gives her the information without a supercilious tone. Lydia wonders if he knows she can feel the energy of the weapon when she holds it, wonders if he knows that she feels a heaviness sink low in her belly. And vaguely she wonders if he himself has felt that same heavy feeling, if he too has held this weapon with shaking hands.
She wonders if he's ever fired it on someone.
Beside her, Allison shoots her a wink before letting an arrow fly into a target at the end of the narrow hall in a perfect bullseye. On her other side, Stiles lets a round of bullets unload into the chest of a dummy. Lydia pushes her hearing protection closer to her ears and gives Stiles an uncertain look.
"Guns are loud!" she shouts, and he grins as he puts down his handgun.
"You get used to it. Here." he moves to her side, and she can feel the tightness of his chest brush her arm.
"When you aim, you want to exhale first. You remember what I taught you?"
Lydia nods. "Lock, load, don't put your finger on the trigger unless you're pulling it."
"Good girl."
She dismisses how her stomach flips at his praise, and straightens out her protective eye glasses.
"Raise your arms, keep them straight and strong." he guides her elbow with whispery soft fingertips. "Just like that, nice. Take off the safety, good Lydia. Keep both eyes open, exhale."
He puts his palm flat in between her shoulderblades and she hopes he doesn't notice that her exhale is unsteady.
"When you're ready."
She fires.
She's aiming for the center of the dummy's chest, but ends up hitting it's crotch.
"Fuck." Stiles breathes beside her, and starts to laugh. "Not sure if you were intending to aim there but consider me warned."
Lydia sighs and turns the safety back on, placing the gun on the table in front of her.
"I suck."
"You hit the dummy. I would call that a success."
"Guns are not my forte anyway."
"What is your forte?" he asks, sending her an amused look.
"My mind."
She watches as Stiles blinks, his tongue slowly licking his parted lips, eyes wandering over her face before going soft.
"That's a pretty deadly weapon, Miss Martin."
Stiles Stilinski was not her type. He didn't have the square jaw of a superhero (though his jaw was pleasing, and his prominent cheekbones weren't too shabby either). He didn't have biceps the size of her head. He didn't walk with his nose in the air, and he certainly didn't try to woo her by invading her personal space, whispering sweet nothings into her ear and promising that she was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen.
Stiles Stilinski was average. Barely six feet, lean but athletic, with hands like a piano player. He has dark brown hair, light brown eyes, and a tendency to ramble and use sweeping gestures.
But there is just something about him that Lydia can't place.
There is a sense of familiarity. She felt it the instant she walked into his apartment and clocked her eyes on him. It was the way they widened, pupils dilating and mouth parting. She had to fight to maintain her composure. Had to fight to pretend it didn't shake her to her core.
No one ever looked at her the way he did, and she was certain no one ever would again.
Kira is sweeping on a fresh coat of dark purple nail polish when Lydia flops onto her bed.
"Eeek! Lydia! I could have spilled this!"
"But your fox-like reflexes prevented that, just as I knew they would." Lydia smirks, brushing a strand of dark hair behind the kitsune's ear. Kira just rolls her eyes, unable to contain her grin.
It's the first time she's been over to Kira's since permanently moving in with Stiles, and the familiarity of Kira's bedroom is a welcoming warmth.
"So, I had a coffee with Allison the other day."
It comes out casually, just as she had intended. But Lydia observes Kira carefully, gauging her response.
"O-oh yeah?"
"She's really sweet. She seems pretty sharp, pretty bad ass."
Kira exhales slowly through her nose, blinking before returning to paint her nails.
"I think you'd like her a lot."
"I-I'm sure I would…" Kira trails off, placing the brush back into the bottle once more to face Lydia. "But...just...she was Scott's first love, you know? When we met, he still wasn't over her. I don't think he'll ever be, really. And I'm such a new part of his life, such a n-new part of this pack…"
Lydia sighs, scooping up her friend's hand to give it a squeeze.
"Kira, you are such a catch. Seriously. I know you've yet to DTR with Scott but-"
"DTR?"
"Define The Relationship, babe."
Kira blushes and lets out a chuckle, making Lydia beam. "Scott likes you. He really, really does. And honestly, it's a good thing that we've got another kick ass lady on our side. Which is why...we're all going out tonight!"
"WHAT!" Kira admonishes, eyes so wide Lydia considers the possibility that the girl just had a minor coronary.
"Yeah," she continues, trying her best to be informal, "I went to the shooting range at the department today with Stiles, and we had lunch with Allison and I may have organized something for tonight. Just us girls."
"Oh my God, Lydia! You know I'm shy!" Kira moans, covering her face with her hands.
Lydia feels guilty for a few seconds before brushing it aside. This will be good for them. And it will be especially good for Kira.
"Kira, all you have to do is be your sweet little self, and she'll love you. She's a pretty accepting person."
"Lydia, do you happen to remember that one time we were trying to stop that omega from its bloody rampage, and Allison and the task force showed up and she put an arrow right between his eyes without a word?"
"She was just following orders." Lydia says, waving her hand dismissively. "Anyway, what does that arrow have to do with you?"
"What if she finds out I'm...with Scott...and that arrow makes a reappearance?!"
"I highly doubt Allison is that illogical that she'd choose murder over thinking."
"And how does Stiles feel that you're suddenly getting chummy with his best friend?"
Lydia gives an unlady-like snort through her nose, rolling her eyes as an answer.
Kira sighs, eyes downcast. "Okay." she finally concedes with a bite of her lower lip. "We can have this girl night, and we can become the best of friends. But Lydia, are we really going to divulge everything?" Kira vocalizes, giving Lydia a pointed look that makes Lydia clear her throat, uncomfortable.
"Somethings are best kept a secret."
They arrive exactly at 6:30, and Allison lets out a breath she didn't know she was holding. Lydia hops out of Kira's red car in what Allison is starting to understand as typical Lydia garb: a skirt and heels. Allison had only met Kira through their organized meetings, and for someone that appeared pretty timid, Kira's fashion was anything but. Allison gives her a once over, taking in her hot pink fishnet stockings and comic book print t-shirt. Girl had guts, even if it was buried below the surface.
"Allison!" Lydia exclaims, wrapping her arms around her in an embrace before turning to Kira.
"Allison, Kira, Kira, Allison."
They smile bashfully at each other in greeting before Lydia hooks her arms through both of their elbows, leading them to the glass window of the movie theater, chattering away.
"I'm so glad we're finally doing this, honestly I'm just glad that we have more girls in our friend group-Hi three for the 6:45 show-and Isaac has been so snarky lately that I can't deal, even with Scott in the room-No please, it's on me, I mean it!-and of course it's a little awkward being in the apartment with Stiles, I don't want to be there all the time, you know?" Lydia babbles, trying to fill the awkward silences with an overload of information while Kira and Allison look at each other under lowered lashes.
They make their way through the theater, picking up a tub of buttered popcorn and Junior Mints before settling in plush seats in a mostly empty theater.
"Lydia, I would never have pegged you for a horror movie person. In fact, remind me why we're watching a horror movie again? Isn't real life horrible enough?" Allison smirks, dipping her fingers into the cardboard box of candy.
"Allison, don't even pretend like you don't love the adrenaline rush of a good horror movie." Lydia replies with a smirk.
Truthfully, she would have adored going to a nice, predictable rom-com, but she figured Kira and Allison would bond faster if they were clutching to each other in fear.
She leans over to address Kira on the other side of Allison.
"Kira, did you show Allison your belt yet?"
"Why would I do…?" Kira murmurs, trailing off at the shrewd look Lydia throws her way.
"Oh! Uh yeah, um. My belt is my katana. It's pretty cool, I guess. At least, Lydia thinks so." Kira blushes, addressing Allison for the first time.
"The belt you're wearing right now?" Allison's eyes widen as Kira gives a nod.
Allison studies her, offering a small smile. "Bad ass."
This wasn't going to be so hard.
Lydia loses track of how many times she shrieks and covers her eyes, or the number of times Allison jumps, spilling popcorn and letting out a laugh at her own ridiculousness. Kira's knuckles are white on Allison's elbow, dark hair turning blue from the glow of the screen. When the protagonist edges through the abandoned house, breath harsh and sweat glistening, Lydia, Kira and Allison collectively lean forward in their seats, eyes wide. But of course, it was the ultimate jump scare. Lydia lets out a yelp so loud it's practically hilarious and the girls all grip each other in fear, laughing and squealing and covering their faces with painted fingers, and it feels good. Really, really good.
"Did you have fun?"
His voice is gravely and low, and she practically jumps out of her skin.
"Oh shit," Lydia sucks in a breath, pushing a hand over her heart. "You scared me. Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."
Stiles rises on his elbow, leaning over to turn on the lamp by the couch, washing him in warm yellow light. His hair is disheveled, sticking up in odd angles, eyes hooded with sleep.
"It's okay, Princess. Jumpy from the movie, huh?"
Lydia lets out a bark of laughter.
"I swear that was the scariest movie I've seen in years. Almost as scary as your hair right now." she quips, and the corner of Stiles' mouth curls as he runs a hand over his hair, ruffling it up.
"Thanks for sharing your best friend with me." she says with a genuine smile that makes Stiles pause and slide over, patting the couch next to him.
"She's pretty good at that," he says as she plops down next to him. "Being a friend."
"Well, I'd gladly share my best friend too. Scott's been dying to have a heart to heart with you."
"To tell me to take care of his little banshee?" Stiles smirks, bumping his shoulder into hers.
"His little banshee can take care of herself." she rolls her eyes, but smirks back.
They sit in amicable silence for a minute until he reaches out, brushing the back of her hand with his pointer finger.
It happens again.
The pulling sensation that blooms in her chest. Lydia turns her head to his to find him studying her.
"What do you think that is? Is it a banshee thing?" he inquires in an almost whisper, and she knows what he's asking without having to elaborate.
"I don't know. I've never felt it before."
"Never?"
She's uncertain, not knowing how to respond. The answer feels strange, so she just smiles with closed lips and murmurs something about heading to bed. Stiles stares at her so hard she feels like a masterpiece work of art scrutinized by a professional. Trying to determine if she's authentic or a fake.
"What?" she snaps with a roll of her eyes, flushing at the bite in her tone. She feels a little guilty that she went from hot to cold so fast, but the way he's looking at her makes her uneasy.
"Did you have a boyfriend?"
Lydia blinks slowly.
"W-what?"
Stiles shrugs a shoulder, looking down at his finger currently tracing a thread in the couch.
"...Do you have a girlfriend or something?"
"Well I'm marrying you, aren't I?"
"Congratulations. That was absolutely not the question."
"Her name was Malia." he says with a lick of his lips. "I'm not with her anymore because…" Stiles trailed off, motioning between the two of them.
She doesn't know what to say, so she starts with honesty.
"You didn't have to break up with her."
His head shoots up.
"But I'm going to be your husband in a few weeks."
"Yeah," Lydia says with a shrug. "So? Our marriage is a political one."
"So…" Stiles squints acidly, "you're saying monogamy is not going to be a thing?"
Lydia can't help the laugh that burns out of her throat.
"Sweetheart, we're not even a thing. Why should I expect you to be monogamous when we're not even together?"
Stiles doesn't know why he's so angry, but she looks so cold, smiling at him with dead eyes.
"You have a boyfriend."
"No."
"Tell me."
"I don't have a boyfriend."
"But you'll get one."
"Probably."
He shoots up, pacing the back and forth in front of the couch.
"I'm not trying to piss you off here, I'm just being realistic." Lydia calls to him, admonishingly.
"What gives you the impression that I'm pissed off?" Stiles snaps.
She gives him a pointed look.
"Lydia, look, I just think it's a little strange that you could think that way."
"Studies have shown the human species aren't meant to be monogamous. We're not penguins for Christ's sake. We're like a virus, we're hardwired to spread our seed as much as we can."
"Bullshit."
He's pissed. He can't even explain how this conversation went from zero to a hundred in seconds, or why her methodical reasoning that polygamy is applicable to their marriage was making his blood boil.
"Princess, you can't make that claim unless you yourself are part of the human species."
That gets her.
He watches as her cheeks begin to pinken, her eyebrows drawing together.
"Really? You're going to pull that again? I have to tell you that I'm an actual, real life human being?"
"What was his name? Or should I say, what IS his name?"
"Whose?!"
"Your fucking boyfriend!" he shouts, waving a wild arm around, not caring that he sounds like a complete lunatic.
His entire life he had been trained to keep his cool. But Stiles Stilinski was never good at keeping a lid on his emotions. And something about Lydia Martin only heightened them. She was like a match to his kerosene.
Lydia stands, stomping her way to him with a ferocious scowl.
"If you're asking about my sexual history, yes I'm quite lascivious. I'm just going to throw that out there right now. But I've only had a few serious boyfriends. Jackson was my first love. He's currently in London and out of my life for good. And my last boyfriend is also out of the picture." she jabs his chest with her finger, and secretly delights in how he rubs at the sore spot with a pucker of his lips.
"Anyway," she continues, throwing flouncy curls over her shoulder, "This conversation is ridiculous, and I'm done having it with you. Sorry you asked a question and didn't like my answer."
"So I can give Malia a call then?" he shouts at her retreating back as she opens the door to disappear into the bedroom.
"If she'll still have you, I suppose. Until then, enjoy your right hand!"
"And what about you, huh Princess? I bet you couldn't get that ex-boyfriend back even if you begged!"
"I certainly couldn't. He's dead."
Stiles' heart stopped.
Lydia watched as the color drained from his face, eyes blinking and lips parting as he sucked in a breath.
"...what."
"He was murdered. Have a nice night, Stiles Stilinski."
"Lydia-" he warned, starting to cross the room to get to her, but she held out a hand.
"I'm not mad. But I'm done talking to you about this."
Stiles froze, hands dropping to his sides.
"...what was his name?"
He watched as emotion flickered across her face. It almost looked like she was tearing up for a second, before an impassive mask was plastered on once more.
"Aiden." she whispered, shutting the door.