The next morning, the first thing that Kira does is to reach for her phone and call her boyfriend. She knows she is probably gonna wake him up but she doesn't care. She is way too excited.

"Hey, Kira. Did you sleep well?" He murmurs, dragging the words.

It's like she didn't even hear his question. "Scott, did they tell you anything?"

Looking around his room, Scott is somewhat confused. It has to be early, the sun is barely out. "Who?"

Kira rambles. "Stiles. Or Lydia. I texted her but she didn't answer."

"Kira," he scolds, "you shouldn't have…" Scott sits on the bed and checks the time on the alarm clock by his bedside table. It reads 06:30 am. "You couldn't have called me in an hour or so? We need as much sleep as we can get. We don't know what's coming, Kira…"

"Sorry," she mutters, feeling a little embarrassed. "But I'm curious about them, I can't help it." She confesses, biting on her lower lip. If she has to live vicariously through Stiles and Lydia for the time being, then so be it.

Scott smiles at his girlfriend's enthusiasm. "I'm curious too. But what if you uh… You know, ended up interrupting something?"

"Oh my god, you think?" She blurts out, covering her mouth suddenly. It didn't really occurred to her, but it wouldn't be such a surprise. The tension between the duo was palpable back at the loft.

Scott laughs, imagining Kira on the other side of the line. "I don't know. I guess we'll have to wait to find out. Now can we please get some more rest?"

She apologizes again and they talk to each other on the phone until they both drift back to sleep.

xxxxxxxxxx

Lydia wakes up to the sun warming her body. As she opens her eyes, she stretches lazily on the bed and sits up, glancing at the alarm clock on Stiles' bedside table. 7:43am.

She hasn't had a good night sleep in months. Until last night, that is, and she's sure it has everything to do with the young man next to her. Stiles is lying on his side sound asleep, his arms where she was just moments ago. He looks younger like this, peaceful, more beautiful even. It's not like Lydia hasn't noticed before how good-looking he is, but it's something she has only admitted to herself rather recently.

Shifting to face him, Lydia brings her knees up to her chest and just stares.

She notices how his hair spikes in every direction, how his face looks so relaxed. More attentively, she maps the moles on his face and his neck. Where else, she wonders, and without noticing her cheeks redden.

She doesn't know how she got here. The Lydia from two years ago would laugh out loud if someone told her that in the future she'd be sharing a bed with Stiles Stilinski wanting to come clean about her feelings, that she'd trust him like she wouldn't trust anyone else, that she'd actually want to be with him. She couldn't be more glad that that Lydia doesn't exist anymore.

And Stiles, he was different too. He's not that hyperactive teenager who had a crush on her, the Sheriff's awkward son, kind of nerd. He's so much more mature than she ever thought he would turn out to be. And Lydia wants to believe that it's not just a crush anymore. That things are different, that they are different.

In that moment, Lydia wants to touch him but she doesn't have it in her to wake him. Smiling to herself, she gets up from the bed quietly and heads to his dresser. Looking inside several drawers until she finds what she's looking for, she picks up one of his oversized t-shirts and grabs her purse. She must have made some noise because Stiles stirs on the bed, his back now resting against the mattress. He's still sleeping, but his shirt has ridden up and is now uncovering a large portion of his slightly defined torso, and Lydia feels her cheeks burning at the sight.

Mouth watering, she uses it as an excuse to return to his bed, like somehow he's inviting her.

One of her knees is already on the bed when she decides to stop. Yesterday happened, last night happened. They both know it and she has no intentions of denying the admissions they implicitly made, ever. But they'll have to talk about it, about everything; she owes him that much.

And it's not like their lives have exactly been easy these last few months. They lost Allison and Aiden, Stiles was possessed by a trickster spirit, people around town died, he ended up getting a girlfriend and Lydia didn't learn all that much about her new powers. They got separated for a while, distracted with life happening around them, but still they have always come back to the other like a pull.

And this is new to her, the feeling of caring more about someone other than herself. And she does. Lydia trusts him with her life, no second thoughts. She loves him in so many ways that she's afraid she will never be able to show him properly, but she will try. And that requires an awoken Stiles and he needs his rest, so she stands up.

He still looks hot under her smitten gaze though, so before leaving for the bathroom Lyda drinks the water he left on his bedside table as if it will do anything to appease her thirst.

xxxxxxxxxx

Scott wakes up for the second time that morning to his phone ringing. He checks the time before answering the call. 8:22m. "Hey, Kira."

"She texted me."

"Lydia?"

"Of course, who else?!"

"Okay, so what did she say?" Scott's awake now, paying attention.

"It reads «We're fine. Everything's good. Talk later». I think she's trying to kill me…"

"Hey," he chuckles, "that's more words than she usually texts anyone, so I'm sure you'll get all the details."

"Well, I don't want them later. I want them now." Kira mutters, almost stubbornly.

Scott hesitates because he knows that something is up between him and Kira, and he's almost sure that he knows what it is. They need to talk and get it out of the way before they let it get too for. "Come over in an hour, alright? I'll be waiting."

He ends the call immediately, not giving his girlfriend a chance to refuse.

xxxxxxxxxx

Stiles wakes up around 8:30 am, and the first thing he does is to count his fingers to make sure that he's awake. It's a habit that he picked up when Void was around and it became part of his daily routine since then, especially when good things happen. Even though he counts all ten fingers, he's not so sure he is awake. Or at least it was a hell of a dream, because he can swear that Lydia Martin just spent the night at his house and it feels so real that he pinches himself to make sure.

He feels the pain, so he has to be awake, but then again he must have been dreaming because there's not a hint of a 5'3" strawberry blonde in his room.

Stiles closes his eyes and inhales deeply, trying to remember. But what catches his attention is the sweet, warm smell of pancakes. What the hell? He promptly gets up from his bed and heads downstairs. He knows that his dad cheats on his diet pretty much anytime he can, but it usually happens when Stiles is not home and, therefore, not there to scold the old man.

The younger Stilinski is already cursing under his breath, muttering to himself the lecture he is about to direct to the Sheriff when he catches a glimpse of red moving around his kitchen. Stopping immediately on his tracks, his mind wanders. Lydia couldn't possibly have spent the night and be making him breakfast, right? And certainly not while she's only wearing one of his t-shirts, long enough to hide her legs almost to her knees.

Practically tiptoeing, Stiles approaches the kitchen door, snooping inside curiously.

Lydia moves around like she belongs there. She's dividing her attention between the stove and the coffee maker, and is she smiling? His heart beats unsteady as he enters the kitchen and makes his way to her. She has her back to the door, so Stiles startles her when he smoothly places his hands on her hips.

"What- Stiles!" Lydia wants to laugh and to be mad at him the same time. It has become her main indecision lately, always trying to find the balance. She ends up laughing. Turning around to face him completely, her sneaks her arms around his neck.

Stiles tightens the grip on her hips and smiles back. "Good morning."

Lydia pulls him closer. "Hi." She whispers softly, and she knows that she probably sounded like she was melting and that she looks smitten, infatuated even, but who cares? That's actually how she feels, and for once she doesn't want to hide it.

She slowly leads her lips to his, giving him time to pull back if he wants.

He doesn't.

He closes the gap between them and kisses her gently, tenderly, lovingly like he always imagined he would do someday. Only this is so much better because it's real. It really is. He pulls back, smiling wide.

She lets out a breath she wasn't aware she was holding. "Why are you smiling?"

"Lydia Martin is making me breakfast," he says amused. "Life goals."

She slaps his arm, playful. "Careful, Stilinski." Turning around and away from him, Lydia turns off the coffee maker and then returns to the stove, flipping the pancakes which are almost done.

Feeling bold, Stiles sneaks behind her, getting close enough so that his chest is touching her back as he lets his fingertips run up her arms slowly. "So… Careful, uh?" He whispers in her ear.

She pretends she's not listening but still leans into his touch. And Lydia can't help but to close her eyes when he moves her hair away from her right shoulder, his fingers tracing unknown patterns on the exposed skin of her neck. She can feel her breathing quicken and her skin is on fire, but she fights to stay focused on the task at hand.

Stiles takes it as a challenge, of course. And he's never audacious like this, not when it comes to romance, not at all, but this is Lydia Martin. He wraps his arms around her waist. "How careful do you want me to be?" He whispers, kissing her earlobe and trailing down her neck to her collarbone with butterfly kisses and swift licks.

Lydia bites on her lower lip, trying not to let out a moan. What the hell? When did Stiles Stilinski started doing this to her? Not that she cares really, and definitely not in that moment. "I don't," she murmurs back to him openly, trusting that he'll take the hint.

And sure enough, Stiles gently places his lips on her neck and kisses the spot he chose right below her ear, sucking and biting only hard enough for it to mark her, as Lydia brings her right arm up until her hand settles on the back of his neck, her nails clawing at his skin.

"Ahem."

They part instantly, startled. None of them realized a very uncomfortable Stilinski was standing by the kitchen door behind them.

"Dad? I… What-?" Stiles rubs the back of his neck, unable to form coherent sentences.

It happens so unexpectedly and he looks so jumpy that Lydia has to laugh.

"You look like you're about to ask me what I'm doing in my own house so I'm gonna stop you right there, son." Just like Stiles, the older man is rubbing the back of his neck. He turns to face a very flushed strawberry blonde. "Good morning, Lydia."

"Good morning, Sheriff." Even though she's blushing, she handles the situation just fine. "I was making breakfast, I hope you don't mind…" She turns to the stove and starts busying herself again, unable to stop smiling. It's good that she remembered that he'd be home in the morning; she just wasn't expecting him to walk in on her and Stiles. "Care to join us? I made enough."

"Don't you have to be at the station?" Stiles desperately hopes his dad will leave.

"Hell! I'm the Sheriff. I can get there a little late." John notices the pancakes and smiles sympathetically at Lydia. "Thank god you're here or I'd have to eat plastic again." He mutters jokingly.

"Hey!" Stiles protests, frowning. "You know that if I don't make you eat healthy, you won't."

The Sheriff turns to Lydia, raising an eyebrow amused. "See what I have to deal with here?"

"Oh." She turns around grinning. "I know."

Stiles blushes hard and the Sheriff laughs. "You two are the worst, did you know that?"

She distracts Stiles from his reverie. "Stiles, the coffee."

The Sheriff is already gathering the syrup and some apples for the pancakes, just like the Stilinski men like it. Lydia serves the pancakes and brings the plates to the table while Stiles pours coffee for the three of them.

It's like they're in sync.

All three sit and have breakfast together like it's something they do every day. The Sheriff asks the kids about school and they ask him about work. He shares embarrassing stories of a younger Stiles and Lydia listens attentively, avidly learning all of Stiles' dirty little secrets, only stepping out for a few minutes to answer a phone call.

Stiles is truthfully considering hiding under the table just to evade further embarrassment when Lydia returns to the kitchen and the Sheriff gets up, taking it as his cue.

"I should get going, I have to get down to the station."

Being a Sunday, Lydia figured he didn't have to work. "Oh, I thought you were staying in today. There are so many things you still haven't told me about Stiles…" She glances at Stiles with a smile on her lips, pulling her hair to one side flirtatiously.

"Stop enjoying this so much," he says, making a face at her. But he's not even really paying attention to what Lydia's saying because he's in awe with the sight of her, rosy cheeks and all smiles. Could she look more gorgeous right now?

The Sheriff looks at the two of them to find them genuinely happy for once. He's been rooting for this for a while, and now that Malia left… He liked Malia, but she's not Lydia, not to Stiles. Still this whole situation is too recent, and that's why he has to play tough parent. Sort of. "Yeah, so this is really not my thing, but I think I have to set some ground rules here…" He's rubbing his neck again, obviously embarrassed. Lydia and Stiles exchange a nervous glance. "Lydia, if you plan on staying the night sometime it's fine, you know that the door is always open for the pack. You two just let me know, preferably before I sneak in on you guys… Well, like before…" She nods in understanding quickly, her cheeks turning bright red. "And make sure that your mom knows where you're staying."

"Okay." Stiles mumbles under his breath. "Sounds reasonable."

"And I trust your judgment, I do, but I hope you two know what you're doing. I don't want anybody getting hurt."

"Dad…"

"Like I said, I trust your judgment." The man pauses, not sure if he wants to go down that road but the thing is he has to, so he proceeds. "Just… be safe."

Still, like they're in sync, the three of them blush even harder. Lydia nervously looks down at her hands and Stiles snaps at his dad, his face as red as it can probably get. "Oh my god, Dad. Are you kidding?" He gestures his hand between himself and Lydia. "We didn't… We just slept together. I mean, like sleep, not… Nothing happened."

"Kiddo, I'm not judging, just saying…" The Sheriff remarks. He wants out of this conversation just as much as Stiles and Lydia do so he starts walking to the kitchen door, only turning around to say goodbye.

"Thank you for the pancakes, Lydia. They were delicious." She smiles shyly and nods. "I'll see you guys later. Oh and…" He'll just be mean now. "I'm pretty sure that'll bruise." John motions towards Lydia's neck where the hickey that Stiles gave her when he'd walked in is already starting to show. "So next time this little bastard tries to pull another stunt like that, feel free to kick him where you feel it's most convenient."

Stiles almost lets his jaw drop to the floor and Lydia bursts out laughing at his reaction. Smiling widely and waving, the Sheriff turns around and leaves.

xxxxxxxxxx

Kira is nervous, to say the least. What now? Scott left her hanging and she's been stupidly looking at her phone for almost ten minutes. She wants to call Lydia, but she won't. She can't. Scott was right. What if she was rudely interrupting something?

But the thing is that she has to talk to someone and Lydia is pretty much her only girlfriend, so she decides to text the redhead again and see what comes of it.

Kira: Sorry if I'm interrupting, but I need advice. Scott wants to talk. What should I do?

Her phone rings not two minutes later. It's Lydia.

"Hey, Lydia." Kira sounds unsure. "I'm sorry if I'm intruding, I'm just freaking out a bit. You shouldn't have called…"

Lydia had retreated from the breakfast with Stiles and the Sheriff to the Stilinski's living room, away from prying ears. "Kira, it's fine. We're just having breakfast. Did Scott say what he wanted to talk to you about?"

"No, but…"

"I'm pretty sure we know what that's about," Lydia mutters.

"Yeah… So, should I go?"

"I think so. Don't you want to know? I would."

"Yeah… I mean, yes, I want to know. Maybe I'm just a little scared, you know?"

Lydia sighs. "I know…"

Kira sits straight, alert. "Now what is that about?"

Lydia rolls her eyes. "Sweetheart, I'm sure you want all the details, but even I don't have them all…" She pauses. "Not yet, anyway. Stiles and I… We're good, but we still haven't talked so I'm not sure where we stand…"

Both girls sigh again and Kira ends up being the one breaking the silence. "So I guess I'll talk to Scott and you'll talk to Stiles…"

"And we will talk later." Lydia smiles. She is finding her friendship with Kira to be coming easy, effortless. They say goodbye and Lydia returns to the kitchen.

The girls don't know it yet, but one of the pairings will be done by the end of the morning.