The door to Stiles' bedroom opened with a bang, bouncing off of the wall behind it. He clung to the girl who was nibbling on this bottom lip, her hands fisted in his hair as they stumbled into the darkness together.
It was late now, Stiles knew that much, maybe somewhere near two am? He wasn't sure and he certainly didn't care. Outside was still black, the moon shining through the window and the stars visible through parted silver clouds. The night had cleared.

Their legs were almost intertwined, despite their still vertical position. Lydia was on her toes, her arms looped around Stiles neck as she fought the urge to climb him. She was feverish, too warm yet covered in goosebumps. She felt delirious.
The boy's strong arms were wound around her waist, his hands splayed across her back, almost covering the width of her frame. Her curls brushed his fingertips and when he took a breath, he tasted her. He was desperate, he couldn't get enough of her lips, her taste, the touch of her skin, the feel of her against him. It had been weeks and he was starved of her - his stomach clenched at the thought of her underneath him again. He was nervous, his hands were shaking and his lips were ghosting across her own, asking her the silent question of, where was this going? What were they doing?

But he was silent, and instead, they stumbled carelessly together, tripping over lone shoes and open textbooks - and a shattered cell phone that lay on his rug.
Lydia whimpered into his parted mouth, the feel of his tongue tracing her lips made her eyes squeeze tighter, her hands pull on his messy hair that little bit harder. The boy groaned, his body tall and hard against her.
Stiles' knees hit the back of his mattress, his frame falling backwards as he sent the two of them into the bundle of pillows and unmade covers below. The overwhelming sense of nostalgia and familiarity hit Lydia harder than anything she had ever felt.
Her breath stuttered as the scent of everything Stiles surrounded her, enveloped her. His lips moved over her own, so softly and gentle, coaxing her to allow him access. Everything - his hands, his lips, his movements - was so fucking tender that it made tears pool behind her closed eyelids.

Stiles groaned as the fell back together, Lydia landing on top of him, her small frame tucked into his body. They kissed slowly and feverishly, their lips slanting together and their tongues meeting for tiny tastes and teasing strokes. Stiles felt drunk.
The fabric of her dress moved against his bare chest, the material rubbing against his cuts. But he was oblivious to it, the stinging sensation only adding to the feel of her on top of him, in his bed again, after so fucking long.

She crawled up his body, twisting out of his arms and wriggling against him, making him groan aloud. The sound did things to Lydia that she didn't think she would ever admit. She brought her longs leg up, straddling Stiles' body. Parting their lips with deep regret, she sighed and used his chest to slowly push herself up. She hovered above him, her bare thighs scorching into his sides. Her long strawberry blonde hair made a curtain around them, hanging down and pooling like liquid fire across his pillows. He started up at her with such awe it made her chest hurt.

Stiles brought one hand up to cradle her cheek, stroking the soft skin and dusting of freckles. He dragged it unsteadily down to her lips, watching with dark, hooded eyes as they parted beneath him, her hot breath falling onto his skin. Lydia placed a kiss there, on the rough pad of his thumb and then, meeting his eyes with confidence, she bit down playfully.

They came crashing together like the always did, with such intensity and ferociousness that new galaxies were born above them and stars fell out of the sky. Stiles fell into her, his hands meeting the mattress just in time to catch himself, his body weight resting on his forearms. Their teeth clashed and their moans were breathed in as the moved against each other.
Both of them were frantic, Stiles' hands moved to skim across Lydia's narrow waist, reaching the hem of her dress before holding onto it for dear life.
Lydia kissed him deeper, her hands roaming across his shoulders, running down his arms and gripping onto him tightly, fearing that she may float off into nothingness.

His own hands were trembling when they dipped under the floaty material, his rough palms skating over her soft thighs, moving up to grip her hips. He felt lace under his touch, a feeling he would never get out his head. When Lydia moved encouragingly against him, he groaned, low and deep so that the girl felt it through his chest.
She was teasing, taunting, urging him on as she ground down onto his hips, only lace and denim between them. Stiles' breathing became ragged, his hands gripping tightly onto her hips.

Sitting up suddenly, he surprised them both. He brought the girl up with him, sitting her in his lap with wide eyes and swollen lips. He was close to death, he was sure of it. His ribs raged at him in anger, telling him to slow down. He ignored it, instead, gripping the hem of Lydia's pretty dress and dragging it up her legs, across her thighs.
Stiles smiled as he watched her eyes flutter shut and her breathing quicken. She was flushed, her chests heaving underneath the floral material.
Stiles continued his movements, slowly and carefully, ready to stop if she said the words. She didn't.

His hands found the soft skin of her hips, her tummy, her sensitive sides. The dress followed his movements, revealing more and more porcelain skin. He kept his eyes on her, pools of dark molten gold that pierced into her. Lydia met his burning gaze, their lips parted and just touching. Their noses brushed, their foreheads touched. She shared the same air as Stiles, panting heavily and desperately as his fingers grazed the underside of her bra, his touch dragging across the lace band.
With one swift movement, he leant back slightly, bringing her dress over and above her head. She didn't see it as it landed in a dark corner of his room. A moan escaped the girls lips as she reached for him, needing to feel his bare skin against her own like it was the thing keeping her alive - and in that moment, she was sure it was.

Lydia jumped slightly as his hands grazed her sides, his touch running slowly down her ribs. She was hardly breathing as she revelled at the feel of him. He stopped at the band of her underwear, the pretty green lace practically glowed in the moonlight.
With a quickness Lydia hadn't anticipated, Stiles flipped them, moving her underneath him as her back found the mattress and his warm frame covered her, shielding her from the cool night air. When his mouth found her own again, it was with a newly found urgency. He groaned as Lydia responded with the same enthusiasm, her hands tracing the lines of muscles along his back and the contours of his shoulder blades.
Stiles took her bottom lip between his own, sucking gently before nipping at her. Lydia's hips arched off of the bed at the feeling, sighing as Stiles' hand ran over her stomach, dipping into her waist before curling itself around the top of her knee. He lifted her leg up and over his hip, holding her there as he moved closer to her, pushing into her body and smiling between kisses when she moaned louder than before.

"Stiles'', Lydia said his name in a gasp, her voice low and sudden in the silent room, "Stiles please''.

She pulled and tugged clumsily at his jeans, fumbling for his button that was crushed between their bodies. Understanding her, Stiles leaned back onto his knees, closing his eyes as for a second to steady himself. He looked at her underneath him, her flaming hair spread out over his pillows in messy waves. Her eyes were bright and gazing at him in a way that made him feel weak. In nothing but lace underwear that matched the colour of her irises, she knocked his mind sideways.
He could think of nothing but her.

Lydia's own shaking hands joined his and they worked together to clumsily undo his jeans. The sound of his zipper was like a warning shot going off in the quiet darkness. Stiles paused, remembering the last time they found themselves in this situation.
Lydia on her bed, naked except for a white sheet wrapped around her body.
Her tears and apologies, words that she didn't say.
Him, walking away, sitting in the jeep, cracking his knuckles off of the steering wheel.

His body stilled and something must have shown in his face because Lydia's lips dipped, her eyebrows drawing together in sad understanding.

She crawled to her knees, her small body sinking into the mattress as she knelt beside Stiles, her hands placed gently on his chest. When he didn't look at her right away, Lydia cupped her hand to his cheek, the rough stubble there grazing her palm.

There was no speech prepared or dramatic preamble. The stars didn't explode and the earth still turned, no one dropped to one knee and Lydia's voice was soft and trembling, her usual bravado lost around the one person who made her weak.
It was just the two of them, in the darkness of Stiles' messy bedroom, both of them half naked and with messy hair and swollen lips. Just Stiles and Lydia, scars and wounds bared.

"I love you'', Lydia told him.

Stiles let himself fall forward, his forehead leaning against the girls as he closed his eyes, Lydia's words resonating through him, touching every inch of him, inside and out.

"Tell me again", he whispered to her, his voice low and throaty; his words thick with emotion. His hand brushed a long curl away from her cheek, enjoying the softness of it between his fingers as his palm found purchase on her cheek. He was in awe of how small she was underneath him, how his hand cradled her face.

Lydia let out a soft smile, something in her chest bursting to get out. Happiness and relief flooded her and she had no hesitation as she placed a trembling kiss high on his cheekbone, his long lashes tickling her nose.

"I love you''.

Stiles smiled against her mouth, their lips touching but not kissing as his hands found purchase in her long auburn hair. He pulled her to him gently, running the tip of his nose along her own, finding the delicate curve of her jawline before leaving it covered in kisses. He traced the arch of her eyebrows, the fullness of her lips.
The whole time he was whispering to her, enjoying her sighs and gasps as he pressed her chest into his own, the lace on her bra becoming an agonising burn on his skin.

"You love me?'' His voice was light and almost playful, but his words and question were heavy with everything they had been through, all the tears that were cried. Stiles burrowed into Lydia's neck, loving the way she moved for him, allowing him access to nibble and nip at her skin.

He already knew the answer of course, he had known the answer months ago, he just hadn't realised it then. But now, with the girl of his dreams half naked in front of him, telling him that she loved him - well, he was going to enjoy that for as long as he could.

Lydia was smiling openly now, her eyes closed as Stiles placed feather light pecks along her neck before switching to open mouthed kisses along her collar bones. She shivered.

"I do, I love you, Stiles''.

His eyes were brighter than Lydia had ever seen before, it was like the sun had came out. At her words, he pulled away from her skin, raising his messy haired head to look down at her, their gazes burning everything that had just been said.

"I love you too".

Their lips met with no rush and they fell back onto the bed, breathless and wrapped around each other. Lydia clung to Stiles with no intention of letting him go and she marvelled at the way her body shook at his touch, how his breath quickened when she pressed herself against him.
When he removed all traces of emerald lace from her body, Lydia told him again, that she loved him - so much. Her eyes were closed when she gripped the sheets between her tiny fists and the boy trailed hot, open mouthed kisses up her legs and over her hipbones. He pressed his lips below her navel, swearing under his breath and praying he would stop trembling soon.

When he realised that Lydia was also holding onto him with nervous fingers, he breathed out deeply in relief.
As Lydia pushed him into the bed and crawled down his body, he groaned into the dark room, his hands itching to wind themselves into her wild curls. But he stopped himself, he tried to restrain himself - and he did, just in time to hear the girl tell him how she loved him again.

They worked together to peel the denim from his legs, the material not evening hitting the wooden floor before Lydia's lips were dragging across the skin on his chest. She placed kisses that were so soft around his battle wounds that he hardly felt them.
As she reached the white band of his boxers, he inhaled sharply, squeezing his eyes closed as she trailed her fingers across the front of them.
He was almost done, there and then.

When he was free of all clothing, Stiles moved over the girl with such delicate and careful movements, it took her breath away. He moved up Lydia's body, dropping soft kisses on her softer skin. He ran the tip of his nose between her breasts, inhaling her scent of cherries and something that was uniquely her.
His eyes were already closed as he met her waiting lips for a kiss. Stiles settled there, between her legs as their kisses grew softer, almost lazy.

But with their chests pressed together, they felt the rush of each others heartbeats, the erratic thumping and panting breaths. Lydia was so aware of Stiles' trembling hands as he gripped her waist, her thighs. His kisses became almost hesitant once more, experimental in a way. Their lips pushed and pulled against each other, growing deep and desperate before they pulled away again, brushing them together in a way that made Lydia sigh into his open mouth.

He made her cry out as he touched her, his fingers so careful but his lips greedy against her own. Lydia seen stars that floated around her head in his dark bedroom, golden planets in his eyes as he met her own, his gaze steady and intense.
Lydia called out Stiles' name when she come undone underneath his touch, and she moaned out again when he pushed into her.

They stayed like that, connected for several minutes, their breaths heavy and erratic as neither dared to move. Stiles braced himself on his forearms, shaking with the sensations, Lydia's flushed face cradled between them. He dropped kisses onto her nose, peppering across her cheeks and forehead, over her closed eyes and parted lips.
She told him she loved him, and again, he responded with the same words.

They moved together, slick with perspiration and tangled in the sheets for hours, all through the night until the skies turned from navy to purple, aqua to pink. When the clouds matched the colour of Lydia's curls, they were lying across the bed the wrong way round, Stiles on his back and Lydia lying across his body.
He swept the tips of his fingers lazily across her bare back, making swirls with her long waves and feeling her soft breath fall across his chest.

She stirred against his body, lifting herself slightly only to drop a kiss on his chest before burrowing back into his arms. Lydia fit perfectly there, her body tucked into his, her arms around his waist and her head underneath his chin.
The two teens froze as the front door opened with a soft click and tired footsteps could be heard climbing the stairs. With bodies that were too relaxed and hardly any energy, both boy and girl were slow to react to the floorboards creaking outside the bedroom door.

Then, as if he knew, Sheriff Stilinski paused, before turning and walking back to his own room. Silence fell over the house once more and Lydia let out the breath she had been holding, listening with a grudging smile as Stiles' chuckled, his heart still beating furiously underneath her cheek.

Kisses but not words were exchanged before Stiles finally fell asleep. Lydia lay next to him, so close that she could see each eyelash flicker as he dreamt and his slow breaths fell onto her cheeks. The smile on her kiss-swollen lips was soft and sleepy, but it was permanent and proving hard to get rid of.

Stiles woke up to hazy sunshine streaming through the slats of his blinds, the room bathed in a warm glow that highlighted each particle of dust that swam through the air.
The sheets were still tangled around him, his naked body ached in the best way and he stretched, rolling over to find flaming curls peeking out from above the duvet. He grinned.
Reaching out an arm, it didn't take long to find the girl the messy hair was attached to.

Lydia murmured from beneath the sheets, her small hands quickly latching onto Stiles'. The boy pulled her closer, careful of his side.
She curled into him and he placed kissed along her shoulder blades, dipping into her collarbones and nuzzling her neck. He was so happy.

Lydia emerged from the pillows she was surrounded by, facing the boy with sleepy eyes and pouty lips. She sighed as his kisses fell across her body, giggling slightly as he tickled her with his morning stubble.
This was so new, so overwhelming and so unbelievably comfortable. It was Stiles, he was hers.
They lay side by side, Stiles playing with her tangled curls, marvelling over how bright they looked in the morning sunlight. Lydia ran gentle hands over Stiles' ribs, careful mapping out the five jagged lines. They looked considerably better, the redness had reduced and it wasn't as raised and angry looking.

Still, Lydia frowned at the marks, hating the pain he had obviously felt.

"What's the chances of something, something happening to you?''

Lydia's voice was barely above a whisper, she was afraid to break the bubble they were in, the perfect sleepy morning and the sex induced haze that surrounded them.
Stiles took no offence to the question, instead rubbing circles into her lower back as their legs tangled together.
He shrugged, being far too nonchalant for once.

"Scott said Deacon thinks it's slim'', he smiled softly his voice still rough with sleep.

Lydia visibly relaxed, wondering how she would have dealt with a werewolf Stiles. She wasn't sure anyone could have handled him.

"Apparently the claws didn't go deep enough and the guy's healed me pretty quickly'', Stiles explained vaguely, his lips too busy creating trails across the girl's neck.
She squirmed at the sensations, her body moving closer to the warmth that Stiles' bare chest provided, her arms looping around his neck. She tucked her head underneath his chin, a new favourite spot of hers.

"I love you''.

"Still?'' Stiles joked, ignoring the way his heart leapt into his mouth, how his head spun at her words.

She swatted his chest and he chuckled, only pulling her closer into his arms. He dropped a soft kiss onto her head, letting his lips linger there.
Every movement was unrushed and carefree, their words whispered softly and murmured into each others skin. The kisses were lazy and slow, but deep and full of all the emotion that were built up last night.

When the sheriff's car could be heard pulling out of the driveway and the sound of the engine faded into silence once again, the pair deemed it safe to leave the safety of Stiles' bed. The boy rolled on to his and watched with complete awe and adoration as Lydia padded across his bedroom floor, the morning sunlight bathing her naked body in an angelic glow.
She piled her bed mussed locks onto the top of her head, stray curls framing her face as she quirked her lips confidently at Stiles' stares.

Unabashed, she picked up one of Stiles shirts from his desk chair, pulling it over her small frame until it swamped her.
Crawling back into bed, she rolled the boy onto his back with gentle hands. Satisfied with the way his muscles rippled with the movements, she straddled his waist, each one of her long legs framing his bare body.

His hands found their place on her smooth legs automatically, rubbing soft circles there without a second thought.
Lydia bent forward, dropping a lingering kiss onto his lips. She giggled into Stiles when he refused to let her go, instead rolling them both back over and pulling the sheets over their heads.

"We need to get up'', the girl mumbled happily, making no move to get out of bed again as Stiles ran one hand up the back of her leg, disappearing underneath his shirt.

"Mmm'', was the response that was grunted into her neck.

"But I'm hungry'', Lydia pouted before her lips were captured by Stiles' own, a quick peck that then turned into something deeper and enticed a moan from each of their throats.

When she finally pulled away, Lydia's eyes were darker and her voice was throaty and low. With fingers still tangled into the hair at the nape of Stiles' neck, she nudged his nose playfully with own.

"Breakfast, please'', she mumbled.

"You're too adorable to refuse'', Stiles chuckled, grudgingly moving away from her embrace.

His feet landed on the cool floorboards and he grabbed a pair of sweatpants from his drawers, pulling them on before he stripped the blanket away from the bed, making Lydia yelp at the invasion of cold air.

"Is breakfast in bed a requirement of Special Friends now, huh?'' He asked with raised eyebrows.

Lydia looked up at him from the middle of his bed, still in his shirt that she made look so damn good. Her hair was wild, a fiery mess that he would never get tired of seeing streaked across his white pillows. Her wide eyes looked up at him, her full lips still swollen from his endless kisses last night. They quirked questioningly at him and he raised his eyebrows in return.

"I would like to point out that I didn't ask for breakfast in bed - just in general. And I would say it's more the requirement of a boyfriend''.

Everything stopped as Lydia finished her sentence and Stiles stood still. The words processed through his mind, travelling through his body, making his heart beat faster and smile tug at his lips.
But he stayed silent, simply crossing his arms awkwardly across his bare chest and nodding once. He grinned before he turned away from the girl, hearing her giggle as he opened the bedroom and headed to kitchen to make his girlfriend breakfast.