The week passed with no supernatural occurrences and classes that numbed even Lydia's mind. She was restless, on edge - and it had nothing to do with the usual dangers she felt. Valentines Day had rendered her incapable of functioning normally. Her thoughts, both in school and at home, were filled with her best friend's lips. And hands, and fingers… and tongue.
By the time Friday crawled by she was exhausted and snappy, her nights full of frustrated sighs and constant fidgeting. She had practically bludgeoned her pillows to death with furious little fists.
Her mood was not unnoticed by the rest of the pack and at lunchtime she felt as if her and Stiles were the center of attention. Usually, Lydia was a careful person. She thought about what she said before said it, she mulled over the consequences of any plan before acting upon it. Sometimes, she would sit for hours, picking out the perfect shade of nail polish to match her handbag.
She was concise, wary and subtle with her words and ways. When it came to Stiles, her rule book was normally pushed to the side. After their special encounter, it had been torn up, made into confetti and scattered happily into the wind.
So now, as she sat, leaning casually into his side and lunch, she tried to ignore the obvious stare that Allison burned into her from across the table. She picked at her sandwich with raised eyebrows as her friend coughed harshly and not so subtly - only stopping when Scott looked at her in alarm and patted her on the back.
Lydia continued to study her food in front of her, feeling Stiles' muscles shift under his shirt and against her side. He moved carefully, his usually frantic hand motions were minimized as he allowed Lydia to lean into him, her tired eyes not going unnoticed by his own.
He spoke to Isaac about lacrosse practice and laughed with Scott, yet his full attention was focused on the strawberry blonde beside him.
It had been five days since he had held her, since he had kissed her. Five whole days since she fell apart in the most amazing way on his lap. Five days since he woke up in his bed beside her; her long, bare legs entangled with his own with her scent still clinging to him.
They hadn't spoken much more of it after Monday morning. They had continued their friendship as they usually would have. They laughed and joked, teased each other and brought the other their traditional Wednesday doughnuts during their free period.
Everything was normal.
But then there was the touching. The touches and brushes that were more than what they were used to. More than what was considered to be friendly.
Grazes and lingers that caught even Isaac's blase attention. Looks and brushes that made Kira grin and Allison raise her eyebrows and smirk.
Like right now.
Stiles' breath was taken away from him as Lydia discarded her lunch and placed her hands beneath the table. She fidgeted with the hem of her skirt restlessly, her actions twitchy and her gaze lowered.
He was about to ask her if everything was alright when she placed one hand on his knee, her touch casual. He held his breath.
Looking round the table, he saw his friends continue their chatter and debates, no one seeming to be any wiser. Lydia herself seemed unaffected by the situation.
Her hand stayed their for what seemed to be an eternity, unmoving and searing into his skin. They boy cleared his throat nervously, shifting ever so slightly in his seat. Lydia smiled and chanced a look at him from beneath her eyelashes. His eyes were unfocused, his head nodding slowly at something Isaac was telling him.
The werewolf squinted at him, watching Stiles with an odd expression.
Lydia smiled and nodded attentively at the story Kira was sharing with Scott and herself. Her hand remained on Stiles' knee, heat radiating through his jeans and searing her palm. She was on fire.
The banshee was beyond restless and her body was screaming at her to move closer, to touch and taste and feel. She was on edge and unsure, never feeling this way before - never feeling such an urge to be near another person. Invisible strings kept her tethered to the boys side, pulling her into him and keeping her there.
Not that she wanted to leave.
Her courage came from what seemed like nowhere as her hand went on an expedition across the rough denim that covered the boy's leg. He shifted beneath her touch, his body tensing beside her. Her mind though back to the muscles on his back and stomach under her hands that night, his lips on her neck.
She smiled across at Kira, her head balancing on one hand as she leaned on the tabletop. The other found it's way to his thigh, his voice breaking as he told Danny how much his Chemistry test sucked. He broke the conversation, looking down at the girl beside him. She glanced back up with big, green eyes and they looked at each other like they were about to kiss.
He grew hard beneath her bold touch, their eyes still challenging each other in the crowded lunch hall and Lydia smiled at the boy's reaction to her. Without another word, she rose from the table and happily said her goodbyes to the pack, telling Allison she would see her in class.
When Kira asked where she was off to, the banshee called back over her shoulder, looking directly at Stiles.
"Library''.
It took only six and half minutes for Stiles to shamelessly jump up after her, hiding his obvious excitement behind his textbooks a he yelled 'bye' to his pack as an afterthought. He gave no explanation and left his confused friends shouting 'friendly' abuse after him.
He was oblivious to it.
Navigating the unfamiliar rows of books in the library was the hardest part and Stiles was about to give up when he seen a familiar smile grinning at him from the most secluded row. He grinned, shaking his head as he walked towards her, moving his books casually and gesturing to his crotch with splayed hands.
His arousal was obvious and the girl felt heat travel across her skin despite the humorous situation. Lydia muffled her laughter behind pursed lips. Her eyes sparkled at him from her perch on an old table. The library was quiet and the smell of old books surrounded them, muffling their voices.
He stopped in front of her, watching her lips with his own smile.
"You need to work on your social skills, Miss Martin, if you think that's acceptable lunch manners...''
Lydia titled her head back and laughed, he legs swinging freely from her perch on the table. She smiled, watching him coyly as he took careful steps towards her.
His warm palms met her bare knees, his touch softening both her smile and eyes. She melted beneath him, her bold attitude quietening as deafening silence fell over them.
Stiles stepped between her legs, watching as they fell open for him and curled around his own. Her foot slid across the back of his calf.
Her heart thudded in chest and heat rushed to her cheeks. She gazed up at Stiles as she pondered over the ways to ask your best friend to kiss you.
Lydia was sure he heard her thoughts as his thumb brushed her bottom lip, pulling gently at the plump skin.
He cleared his throat and dropped his hand, disappointment flooding her body. He looked down at her, unsure and uncertain - just like that night before.
The girls hands found their way to the hem of his shirt, her fingers fidgeting with the material as she tried to avoid the unmistakable bulge in his jeans. Her body was aflame and her mind raced with thoughts that she didn't dare say aloud.
"Lydia look at me".
His words were demanding but his voice was soft, the air in the library stilled and all background noise blurred into one faint whisper that seemed to be miles away.
The girl looked up at her friend, her eyes curious. She almost gasped as she was greeted with a gaze that burned her, molten honey looking back.
Stiles moved closer, moving into her until their bodies brushed and each suppressed a moan.
"I don't know the rules of this game, Lydia, I don't know what I can and can't do...'' His voice was low, hoarse and gruff with want in her ear.
Her hands gripped his hands, his elbow, the material of his shirt on his chest. She shook her head fiercely.
"It's not a game, Stiles''.
Her forehead met his chest and she closed her eyes as his hands came to rest in her hair, his long fingers rubbing against her head.
"There's no rules, I just want, I-'' She made a noise of frustration as she tried to convey what she wanted to say.
Stiles knew she trusted him, he knew they were best friends. She trusted him enough with her body, in her most vulnerable state. He had watched her come undone with the touch of his fingers.
Stiles knew that he was supposed to kiss her now, to cut her words off with his own lips, soft and gentle - before growing greedy and rough.
So he did. His hands went from her long hair to cupping her face, lifting it to his own so his lips could capture hers.
They moaned in instant relief, their gasps swallowed by each other as their lips came crashing down with groans and murmurs, silent promises and needy tongues.
Lydia clutched at him, the boy moving closer between her open legs as their bodies crushed together. He moved against her, bringing one rough palm to clasp her leg, her smooth skin gliding on his own like silk. He brought her leg up to curl around his hip and he held it there like a lifeline.
Their lips and bodies moved roughly against each others, both of them desperate for more. When Stiles pulled back slightly to pant heavily against her open mouth, Lydia shook her head, quickly bringing his lips back to her own with desperate hands as their tongues danced together.
Teeth nipped and scraped against swollen lips and arched necks, hands roamed and grasped and pulled at hair and clothes.
Their breaths were heavy and short and Stiles wondered how in the hell he had managed to stay away from those bee stung lips for five whole days.
His hands mapped trails across her thighs and hips, groaning into her parted mouth as her tongue sneaked across his bottom lip. He pushed into her and his head fell back as she arched into him in response.
Lydia's hands fell to Stiles' waist, her fingers shaking as she pulled helplessly at his belt. Stiles voice was hoarse as he mumbled,
"Oh shit''.
Her hand brushed the length of him and her eyes grew wide as he twitched at her touch and grew harder than he thought was possible after Sunday night.
"Lydia…" He groaned her name into her hair, his lips brushing her neck as she arched into him once more, granting him all the access he wanted. His mouth brushed against her skin, his teeth grazing her jawline.
She whimpered, his hands found the curve of her ass and when he pulled her to him, they fell apart.
"Stiles, take me home'', the girl hardly recognized her own voice as she practically begged Stiles with hooded, dark eyes. He nodded back at her mutely, his hands finding her own as he helped her off of the desk.
"Do you have any more classes?''
Lydia shrugged carelessly, "Nothing that I can't miss'', she leaned forward dragging her lips across his jaw as he shrugged on his bag, "You?"
"Lydia, I couldn't even tell you what day of the week it was right now''.
The staggered almost dizzily as they quickly gathered the rest of their belongings and headed for the nearest exit.
With the absence of alcohol, Stiles kisses stayed on Lydia's lips for longer. She could feel her skin tingle and she could taste him still as he tongue peeked out to grace her lips.
His hands were ghosts on her skin, her thighs, her neck, her waist.
Stiles gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white, his attention severely distracted as Lydia's skirt rose higher and higher as she stirred restlessly on the seat beside him. He contained his groans.
His lips were aching from her wanting mouth, her greedy lips and tongue and teeth that teased and nipped. Stiles could feel her eyes on him as he stared ahead at the road, he felt her take him in, her eyes raking over his profile and down to his arms and chest.
He was still hard as a rock, his excitement straining so obviously against his jeans. His embarrassment was yet to be found and he could only focus on the taste of Lydia that still lingered on his lips.
Stiles glanced over at his friend, watching her fidget still with the hem of her floaty skirt. It was royal blue and it made her hair look ridiculously bright. It was his favourite.
He cursed and stepped on the brakes as he fought to pull his eyes away from Lydia's hands. Her dainty fingers slid across the fabric, bringing the already short hem up and down. The silk slid across her skin so easily, Stiles was mesmerized.
He brought a hand to her own, pushing them away from the fabric as he scowled across at her. She laughed easily and happily, an eyebrow arched as her hand was placed on his own thigh instead.
It didn't take long for the pair to find themselves in Stiles' driveway, the engine off and the allure of the boys empty bedroom beckoning to them.