She sits on his bed, her legs bent in front of her, her book resting on her thighs. She watches as he sways on his desk chair, his body hunched over his
keyboard, his gaze intent on the websites littering his screen.

Today should be like any other. However, Lydia's focus keeps straying from the text on hand to the boy across the room.

Last night, she went out with date number nine.

He was charming and attractive, and still, she found herself completely and utterly bored.

Even as he kissed her on her front step, all she could think about were the six different ways she wanted him to change what he was doing.

Any other night, she would've detailed all those ways to date number nine and led him up to her bedroom.

Instead, she sent him on his way, leaving herself frustrated and alone in her bed.

She recognizes she feels something for Stiles. But, despite her best efforts, she can't define it. Mostly, because she's never felt anything like it.

And living with unknown variables is still a concept she's not entirely comfortable with.

So, she decides to tackle the unknown the best way she knows how: thorough study and research.

Because, Lydia is nothing, if not, a fast learner.

Putting her book down, she uncurls her legs and scoots to the edge of the bed, her gaze determined and fixed on Stiles.

"Stiles?"

"Hmm?" he murmurs, continuing to click through the program even as his body turns towards her.

"Why don't we have sex?"

He nearly falls off the desk as he swivels towards her. "What?"

She shrugs, gesturing between them. "We spend all this time together, without parents or friends. I've clearly told you I'm available. For God's sakes, I spend most days in your bed. Why haven't you made a move?"

He stares at her, his mouth gaping open slightly. "Wait. Are you saying you want to me to make a move?"

She shrugs. "Not if you need remediation in dating."

He jumps up and shakes his head, before crossing the room and sitting beside her.

He laughs. "No, no. I think I got it now."

She nods, watching him warily from his new position. "You didn't answer the question."

He stares at her lips as he murmurs, "What question?"

She smirks, following his movement and leaning forward. "Why haven't you made a move?"

He smiles, his breath ghosting over her lips. "Lydia, I've been in love with you since the third grade. I'd say the ball's in your court in terms of moves."

She silences him with her lips. His feel chapped and rough beneath hers and it makes her arch into his arms, suddenly wanting much more than she bargained for.

His hands squeeze her waist, moving up her back and tracing her sides. All the while, his lips keep moving with the just the right pressure and cant against hers.

A sleepless night fantasizing about him did not prepare her for this. She's supposed to be the experienced one.

He shudders and groans and she realizes she's on his lap, straddling him, wiggling against him as his hips shift up into her. She doesn't remember how she got here, but she knows for sure she doesn't want him to ever stop. She moves purposefully over him, grinding into him and he bites her shoulder.

"Jesus, Lydia," he breathes out.

She smiles as she scrapes her nails through his soft hair.

She stops breathing when he licks and sucks his way from her collarbone to her ear.

She giggles when he playfully bites her ear, and then he's looking at her from above, and she realizes she's on her back in his bed. When did he become so good at this?

His chest is heaving as he looks down at her, his eyes traveling over her face.

"You sure about this?"

She grins and shrugs, her hands running up his arms.

"Not really," she breathes out with a laugh, "But, I'd like to find out."

He returns her smile, leaning down and stealing another kiss.