Stiles waited Lydia's breath calmed. He waited patiently, with the girl curled around his body as he held her to him on his lap. One hand ran soothing fingers through her curls and the other stroked the overly sensitive skin on the inside of her leg - bringing her down from her high. She mewled softly into his chest and he smiled.
Lydia was exhausted and at that moment in time, she reminded Stiles of a little kitten. She was adorable.
The girl clutched at the front of his shirt, her chest still heaving and her eyes closed as the last of the fireworks faded from the inside of her eyelids.
She eventually calmed, her body completely sinking into the boy's.
"Happy Valentine's day''.
Lydia let out a breathy laugh at his words and marveled at the events that just unfolded. She was no longer as drunk as she had been, in fact, her mind was crystal clear. When her head eventually lifted and she looked into Stiles' eyes, she could see that the effects of the alcohol had worn off on him too.
She made a noise of agreement and brushed her lips across his own, gently, reverently.
Their noses bumped, their foreheads touched and when Lydia hesitantly reach for the button Stiles' jeans, his hand left their place on her waist and stopped her own.
He intertwined them instead, bringing each of her small hands up to his lips to place a kiss on each knuckle.
Lydia raised her eyebrows questioningly at him, hurt and rejection slowly seeping into her features. Stiles panicked slightly, quickly shaking his head before he could get the correct words to leave his mouth.
"No, god no, Lydia - I don't mean like that!''
"But-'' The girl began to protest but Stiles silenced her with another whisper soft kiss. His lips gently trailed from her lips, to her jaw, across her cheek before landing on her temple.
"I wanted to, uhm, do that for you because of just that - I wanted to", Stiles swallowed heavily, his eyes wide as she gazed at her whilst he spoke, "I didn't expect anything in return''.
Lydia smiled, her eyes softening as she gazed down at the boy from her spot of his lap. Her hands tightened her grip in his own and she gazed down at them before looking back up through her lashes.
Lydia Martin was almost speechless, her was coy and shy. It was something she had never experienced before under the gentle and coaxing hands of a boy.
Not just any boy, either.
"I want to help you too, you know", her voice was low and gravelly, full of sex and sin, "I want to make you feel good too, Stiles''.
The girl threw his own words back at him and Stiles felt them like a punch in the chest. He was hard beneath her and he shifted on instinct, his hips arching upwards and into her sensitive center.
She gasped, her head rolling forward until it met his own, their breaths mixing together as they gasped desperately for each others oxygen.
They were back to square one.
Stiles bit his lip and practically growled from within his chest, but when he caught a glimpse of the clock that sat on the fireplace behind Lydia, he groaned with defeat.
02.10am.
"My dad is going to be back any minute".
"Shit!"
Despite the tension filled situation, Stiles let out a laugh as he watched Lydia practically roll backwards off of his knee, her bare legs flailing before she righted herself and searched the floor frantically for her underwear.
"Why can't I find my - oh'', Lydia blushed a new shade of pink as she took the scrap of black lace that was hooked from Stiles' outstretched finger.
She took them with a coy smile and Stiles grinned, turning away and beginning the task of clearing pizza boxes as the girl slipped both her underwear and jeans back on.
Stiles watched as Lydia quickly gathered up the mass of mismatching pillows from the floor and place them back in their rightful places. He smiled, and walked into the kitchen, empty pizza boxes and half full glasses balanced in his hands.
He dumped the boxes in the trash before placing the cups in the sink with a dull clang. He braced himself on the worktop, his eyes closing and the breath he had been holding flood from his lungs.
He smiled into the dark room and shook his head in disbelief. Stiles was in awe. He still felt the warmth of the girl around his body, her hands in his hair, her breaths and moans in his ear, the movement of her hips against his own…
"Fuuuu-", Stiles stood up quickly, rubbing his hands across his face fiercely as if to clear the memory from his head.
As if he could.
After gulping down three glasses of cold water, he filled the cup once more and took it back into the living room where Lydia was waiting.
He handed the cup to her with a smile and she accepted it with her own. She wore his jersey still and Stiles decided he no longer had any need for it except to see Lydia in it.
"Bed?"
The girl nodded from behind her glass and took Stiles' outstretched hand without hesitation and let the boy lead her up to his forever familiar bedroom.
She sat on his bed with a happy sigh and watched as he padded around the room. After rummaging through his drawers for several minutes, he produced a t-shirt that was deemed clean and handed it to Lydia.
"This okay to sleep in?''
"Of course'', Lydia smiled, taking it from his hand. She lent up on her tiptoes, brushing another kiss across his cheek - the memories of downstairs still very much present within her actions.
"You should probably be able to run to the bathroom and back before my dad gets in...''
Lydia rolled her eyes at the boy's words and responded by turning away from him and dragging her jeans down her legs for the second time that night.
She heard him stutter through his breath.
"Or you could get changed here'', he coughed, "It's not a problem''.
The girl clutched the hem of the heavy jersey she wore and carefully pulled it up and off of her body. Her white shirt came with it - revealing smooth, porcelain skin and more black lace. Her hair fell like a waterfall of fire down her back.
A thump and a muttered "fuck" came from behind her Lydia giggled. She looked over her shoulder at Stiles to see him pick up books that had fallen from his desk as he stumbled into it. He grinned at her, giving a small wave.
Lydia shook her head and picked up the t-shirt from the bed, pulling it over her body until it reached her knees.
By the time the two of them had crawled into bed, the front door opened and closed again. The sheriff's heavy footsteps climbed the stairs and his bedroom door closed across the hall with finality.
The pair let out the breath that they had been holding.
After being on top of Stiles' lap, Stiles' bed was the second most favourite place that Lydia liked to be. It smelled just like him and she found more comfort and soundless sleeps in it than her own.
She stretched out her body alongside his own taller one before curling back into herself, her back to Stiles.
Minutes passed before she peeked over shoulder at him. He was still awake, his eyes sparkling back at her through the darkness. She could just feel his warmth breath fall on the back of her neck.
"Come cuddle".
It wasn't a question she had asked him, it was a statement and it was granting permission to the silent doubts he had in his head.
Stiles smiled at her knowing smirk and his arms sought her out in the mass of covers. They curled round her all too familiar waist and for the countless time that night, he was in awe of how small she felt against him.
Stiles pulled her gently across the mattress as she contained her giggles between pursed lips. He didn't stop until her back was against his bare chest and he felt, rather than heard, the sharp intake of breath from her.
His arm settled around her waist and he was almost surprised when her own little hands covered his own, her fingers slipping between his. He curled round her, their legs intertwining and he buried his face in her wild curls.
They mumbled their 'good nights' to each other and Stiles was almost asleep when he felt Lydia lift their joined hands to her lips and place a kiss on each of his knuckles, just as he had done to hers before.