When Stiles opened his front door his eyes were panicked and concerned. He took in Lydia's damp hair and his too large hoody, her eyes sad and unfocused as she gazed up at him with pouted lips.

He ushered her inside without words, his hand finding hers and pulling her in gently. She stepped into the hallway and into his arms.

Stiles sighed, resting his cheek on top of her damp curls. She smelled like rain and her own perfume, the same scent that still clung to his pillows.
"What's wrong?''
The girl shrugged, her arms wound around that boy's waist as she burrowed her head into his chest. He was warm from bed and soft with sleep, his hair mussed and his eyes heavy.
"Lydia?" She pressed her face into his chest further and Stiles sighed once more. He closed the door over with one hand and shuffled them both into the living room.
"Why are you here at 3am? Did something happen? I thought Matthew was giving you a ride ho- Did he hurt you? Where is he?''
Stiles voice grew slightly in volume and Lydia winced in his embrace, her lips hardly moving as she told him to be quiet.
Stiles huffed, frustrated and he held his friend at arms length, looking down with panic.
"Lydia, you need to talk to me''.

"I'm fine Stiles, I'm, I'm fine'', she stumbled over her words, her brow furrowed as she struggled to hold his stare.
"You're drunk. That son of a bitch-''
Stiles moved quickly, searching for the keys to his jeep as Lydia followed him out to the hallway again, trying to reach out to him. She finally grabbed a handful of his shirt that he had chucked on and she held him there, pulling insistently.
"Stiles, no, no! He didn't do anything. He dropped me off at my place… I just didn't wanna go home''.
Her eyes were sad and guilty as she tried to explain and the boy looked down at her with a softened expression.
"Lydia…'', he pulled her into him once more, his arms curling around her frame perfectly. She shivered in his arms.
"You're freezing".
"I'm fine", she lied. Lydia wasn't fine at all.

They stood in silence for a few more minutes, wrapped around each other and swaying slightly in comfort. Both of them hid their furrowed brows and thoughtful, confused expressions as they wondered how this week had happened.
And it was only Friday night.
Eventually, Stiles pulled himself away from the girl grudgingly, smiling at her slight pout and taking her by the hand. He led her upstairs carefully, watching as she swayed slightly. He swore under his breath. His large hands found her waist and he held her on either side, close behind her as they stepped up each stair with careful feet.

When they finally made it to the top, Lydia felt like she could finally release the breath she had been holding. She made her way towards Stiles' all too famiiar bedroom but stopped as she watched him disappear into the bathroom, leaving the door open.
Bottles of shampoo fell and clattered to the floor and she heard him curse a few times. Soon, the sound of running taps filled the silent house and he appeared minutes later, his hand reaching out to her from the doorway.
She raised an eyebrow at him, stumbling slightly into the wall before she righted herself.
"You're having a bath'', Stiles stated simply, "You're freezing and you need to sober up''.

Lydia shuffled towards him, accepting his hand and he led her into the room that was filled with steam. She felt warmer already.
The water inched it's way up the tub and she sensed Stiles behind her, watching her. He was, with careful eyes and his lips set in a grim line.
She frowned, reaching up with soft fingers to brush his lips, hoping for a smile. He didn't and he lowered his eyes until she dropped her hand with embarrassment.
"Come on, let's get you warm''.
Stiles nodded to the edge of the bath and she sat, watching in silence as he peeled off her sodden shoes. His hands covered her feet and he rubbed them, warming them in his palms.
"Why did you think it was a good idea to walk to mine in the rain? You should have called me, I would have came and picked you up''.
Lydia looked down at him with a small, hopeful smile, "Really?''
"Of course I would have, Lydia, wouldn't I have always done that for you?''

The girl had the right to look sheepish as she mumbled, "I guess…''
Stiles gave her a pointed look that said, 'exactly'.
"So what's changed, why would tonight be any different?'' He motioned for her to stand and he took hold of his sweatshirt. She lifted her arms without a second thought as he helped her peel the heavy, rain soaked material away from her tiny body and over her head.
He dropped it to the floor with a squelch and looked down at his friend with raised eyebrows, waiting for her answer.
"Because we've changed, we're different,'' Lydia's gaze stayed level with Stiles' chest her fingers absentmindedly picking at her nails, "Because you left me at a party with another guy after we spent that afternoon in bed together and I really don't know what all of that means''.
Stiles stood in shock as he watched a single tear make it's way down Lydia's cheek.

"No, no, no, no'', He hushed her, his voice tight with panic and he pulled her into his arms, "Don't cry Lydia, please don't''.
Lydia fisted his shirt in her hands, her eyes squeezed shut as she pressed her face into his chest, tears falling in full force now.
"And I'm really drunk!'' She wailed.
Stiles was not prepared for any of this and he thanked the gods that his Dad had taken overtime that night. He stroked the girls damp curls and made soothing noises that he whispered into her ear. They swayed together and Stiles opened and closed his mouth seven times over before he decided on the right words to say.
"It's been a while since I've seen drunk Lydia… I forgot how emotional she was'', he laughed slightly and hoped to god she would too.
She let out a short chuckle into his chest and the boy sighed in relief. He pulled away enough so he could look down at her and his heart almost broke when she gazed back up with huge green eyes and long lashes soaked with tears.
His voice was soft and broken when he told her once more, "Let's get you warm huh?''

Despite Lydia's eye roll, Stiles insisted that he stood outside whilst she continued undressing. He felt a sense of triumph when she finally stopped arguing with him and he heard the soft splashes of water from the other side of the door, indicating that she was finally in the warm water.
"You can come back in now, Stiles''.
He winced and he struggled internally with the pull he felt at her words. He cleared his throat, his hands clasped at his lips.
"Uh, yeah, I don't think that's a good idea. I'll just sit out here and talk to you… You know, make sure you don't drown and what not''.
"Stiles, you've seen me naked…''
Was she trying to kill him? The boy dropped his head onto the closed door, the cool wood doing nothing to ease the heat that was coursing through his body.
"Well, technically, I've not'', he closed his eyes as he heard the water ripple and splash, "There's always been, um, lace an- and jeans in the way and what not'', his throat was dry as he heard Lydia sigh in content.
"And that goddamn lacrosse sweatshirt'', he cursed under his breath.

"Stilinski, I don't care - get your ass in here and make sure I don't fall into an alcohol induced coma'', her voice was playful but stern - there was no room for arguing.
"You're so fucking bossy''.
"Stiles!''
He ignored her, instead choosing to silence her by turning the handle and opening the door, peering round cautiously. She was a sight to behold. Her damp curls had been piled on top of her head - a mass of auburn that fell haphazardly around her face, framing her flushed cheeks. Mountains of bubbles surrounded her and only her shoulders were visible from the water. She smiled coyly at him, watching him with an amused expression as he sat on the floor beside the tub, his forearms leaning against the lip. He looked at her with warm, chocolate eyes that made her sigh.

She did. Lydia hummed happily, the warm water and the lasting effects of the copious beer she drank making her carefree and numb.
"How're you feeling?'' Stiles mumbled quietly to her, his voice matching the mood and surroundings. Lydia tucked her knees into her chest under the water, making herself smaller as her eyes dropped and she shrugged. Her happy mood slowly seeped into the water around her, swirling away with the popping bubbles. She lay her head on her knees and looked at Stiles with a helpless expression.
"I don't know. I'm drunk''.
Stiles laughed softly, one finger tracing soapy trails up and down her shoulder.
"What do you know?''

Lydia thought carefully for a moment, her lips pursed and a little furrow appeared between her brows that Stiles thought was adorable.
Her ruby lips parted and she let out the breath she had been holding.
"I know that I'm drunk and I'm tired. I know that I wanted to come to yours, I wanted to see you'', her eyes landed on his, unashamed and bold, "I wanted you to hold me and tell me that what we're doing isn't going to mess us up''.
Her eyes watered again and Stiles was quick to move to his knees, closer to her and pressing his lips to her bare, wet shoulder.
"I want you to tell me that we're still best friends and I want you to tell me that it sucked just as much for you, as it did for me when you walked away and left me that douche''.
Stiles smiled against her skin when she used his own word. That guy was a douche. He placed another kiss to her neck.

He stood without words, gripping his shirt from the back of his neck and pulling it off, dropping it beside Lydia's clothes on the cold tiles.
She looked up at him with a curious expression, her voice was hoarse from the party and from talking, her once tired eyes now alert and wide.
"You wanted to come here so I could hold you right?''
The girl nodded slowly, "Among other things, yes''.
Stiles scoffed, laughing and shaking his head at her, "One thing at a time, okay?''
He reached for the band of his grey sweats, undoing the tie before swallowing audibly and pushing them to the floor.
Before Lydia could rake her eyes down the full length of his naked frame, he stepped out of her view and into the bath behind her.
His long legs slide past either side of her so she was sat between them and he carefully pulled back on her shoulders until her back met his bare chest - warmed with the water around them.
She allowed him, her body reacting to the new sensations of his hard, wet chest beneath her. She wiggled, getting comfortable against him and she took pleasure in hearing him moan under his breath, his erection trapped between their bodies.
"Is this you holding me?'' Lydia's voice was barely audible but Stiles nodded, placing soft, wet kisses along her shoulders and spine. She shivered under his touch.

"Are you okay?'' His voice was low and it vibrated through his chest and into her back. His slight stubble scratched her bare skin, his rough palms massaging the sides of her waist, running up and down - dangerously close to the sides of her breasts.
She nodded, not trusting her voice.
They sat together in comfortable silence, washing each other and placing kisses on the parts of the others body that they could reach. Stiles mapped out Lydia's back and shoulders with his lips whilst she peppered kisses on each of his fingers, his palms, his wrist.
When he lay back in the water, pulling her with him gently, she reach up and placed a kiss on the underside of his jaw.

It must have been nearing four in the morning when Stiles helped Lydia out of the tub and wrapped her in the biggest, fluffiest towel he could find. Wrapping one around his own waist, he repressed the urge to pick her up and carry her to his bed.
Instead, he led her by the hand, watching her stumble adorably in the dark as they both fought sleep. Without words, he pulled one of his T-Shirts over her head, accepting her smile as thanks. He pulled on some boxers and watched her crawl into his bed. She settled herself in the middle of his pillows as if she was made to be there.
Her hand reached out to him as he stood dumbly at the bottom of the bed frame and he walked round to take it, her tiny fingers lost in his hold. He crawled in beside her, their hands never letting go of each other.
As soon as his head met his pillow, she shuffled closer, her head finding her favourite spot on his chest and her leg slipping between his own.
Stiles let out a long exhale.

"We don't have to do, uh, what we've been doing if you're confused Lydia'', Stiles whispered into her hair, "I'm confused too''.
She was silent and still in his arms, so he continued, "I didn't want to leave you with that asshole… I thought you did though - I thought I was being the friend that was too over protective''.
He sighed, "I wanted to punch him. But I don't know what I'm supposed to do. You're my best friend, but I swear to god I wanted to rip his head off when he touched you… That's not normal, right? Best friends aren't supposed to feel that way''.
"We're special friends, Stiles'', Lydia's voice was thick with sleep and the boy wasn't even sure if she had her eyes open. He made a noise of frustration that filled the dark room.
"Lydia, you keep saying that and I don't know what it means!''
"It means you're my best friend and we kiss and we make each other feel good'', her fingers traced the muscles on his abdomen and he tensed under her touch.
Her voice was soft and her words were mumbled as she fell into a place between sleep and reality.
"But I'm scared Stiles, don't know what will happen'', she yawned, "Don't wanna mess this up, can't lose you, you know?''
"You won't lose me Lydia, ever, I promise'', Stiles stroked her hair out of her face as she twisted in her sleep, her face turned up to his own as she smiled tiredly back at him.
"Promise? Good. I just don't want you to stop kissing me Stiles. You make, make me feel good, y'now? So good''.

The boy nodded and watched her nod off, her lips still parted slightly at her last slurred words.
"Yeah I know'', he said to no one in particular, "So goddamn good''.