Work Text:
Stiles ran a hand through his hair as he tugged open the door to the animal clinic. Scott had called him fifteen minutes ago telling him to get down to the clinic as fast as he could it was an emergency. So, Stiles left Malia at his house, telling her he’d be back soon. He hesitated just inside the main entrance and swallowed hard. His stomach tightened and he felt the familiar coils of anxiety gathering in his chest.
Every time he went into Deaton’s clinic he couldn't help but see what the Nogitsune had done to Scott. What he had done. The memory was seared into his brain and Stiles honestly didn't ever think it would go away. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly pushing himself forward and walking towards the open gate.
“Scott, you here?” He called out as he walked into the back and spotted his friend pacing as he dropped something into a canister making a clanking sound that filled the room.
Scott glanced over at Stiles, “Thanks for getting here so quickly,” he said his voice quiet, brows furrowed. He paced over to one of the exams tables and placed the canister down. “I think Derek is missing.” He told his friend, worry clear in his voice.
Stiles’ brows drew together and he stepped forward towards the metal table glancing at the canister, “What do you mean missing? Since when?” He asked as the familiar sensation of anxiety building inside of him grew again. Stiles knew that he and Scott weren't particularly close with Derek, but he had earned his place among their pack, fought beside them, protected Scott and his father when the Nogitsune had control over his body. If Derek was really missing they needed to find him.
“I don’t know,” Scott said honestly as he shook his head. “I've got a bad feeling man…I think we should text Lydia and tell her to stop by.” He motioned to the canister, “I've got something I want her to use to see if she can find him with her powers.” He said as he met Stiles’ gaze.
Stiles had to fight not to flinch at the mention of Lydia’s name. He nodded and heard Scott start talking again, but his mind couldn't seem to focus on his best friend. Instead all he heard was Lydia’s name and when he closed his eyes briefly, Stiles tried and failed not to remember that morning just over two months ago.
A quiet sound pulled Stiles from sleep and he groaned shifting against the soft sheets wondering why he was up before his alarm. He flexed his hands and was mildly surprised to feel warm skin beneath his palms. His eyes flew open, heart thumping loudly in his chest as he tensed carefully surveying his surroundings. But before he could even look around the room, all he saw was a head full of strawberry blonde curls.
Stiles’ eyes widened and he very slowly lifted his head from its perch on the pillow and stared at the girl in his arms. Holy shit…holy shit. He had sex with Lydia Martin. Sex. With Lydia…Martin. He was pretty sure any second now he was going to have a panic attack. He could feel the familiar signs of his body preparing to freak out and then something happened.
Lydia shifted in his arms, turning her body directly into his and letting out a soft sigh as she pressed her bare chest against his. Stiles sucked in a sharp breath, held it for a few seconds and then let it out slowly and all the anxiety that had built in his chest in a matter of seconds was gone.
He stared down at her in awe. He was pretty sure there was no way he could possibly be happier than he currently was and that thought alone made guilt spark inside of him. He didn't deserve to be happy after everything that happened. After everything he’d done, after countless people died at the hospital…after Aiden and Allison. Stiles had no right to be happy and yet, he couldn't seem to make the warmth in his chest disappear as he cautiously lifted a hand to Lydia’s head letting his fingers move through her hair gently.
Lydia shifted, her leg sliding up and brushing against another leg. She paused suddenly extremely awake. Exactly how much had she had to drink last night? But before she could answer the question, the night came rushing back to her. Stiles. Her heart jumped in her chest and she swallowed heavily before slowly letting her eyes flutter open.
The sight of Stiles watching her, uncertainty in his eyes made a shot of fear flow through her. Oh god, she slept with Stiles. Panic surged inside of her and she sat up, her hand curling into the sheets and tugging it up with her.
Stiles watched as Lydia bolted up and his chest tightened. “Morning,” he said cautiously not sure what kind of reaction to expect from her.
Lydia moistened her lips, “Morning,” she replied her voice hoarse from sleep. She glanced around the bedroom, her gaze returning to Stiles a few seconds later. He looked adorable. She shook the thought away. That didn't matter. What mattered was that they had sex. What was he thinking right now? Should she ask? He was watching her closely and Lydia wasn't sure what to do or say.
Stiles sat up the sheet falling to his waist as he leaned against Lydia’s headboard. “So…last night.” He said letting his voice trail off nervously.
Lydia nodded, “Last night,” she repeated as she tugged the sheet off of Stiles, leaving him under the blanket as she got up from the bed wrapped in cotton. “That was—we—it was a good night.” She finally got out.
Stiles felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as he watched her rush out of bed. “It was,” he told her. But he should have known last night was too good to be true. Wonderful. He held in a sigh and shifted letting his feet drop to the floor as he reached for his discarded boxers.
Lydia watched him grabbing for his clothes and her chest tightened almost painfully. Was he leaving? Normally she wouldn't mind. She wasn't afraid to spend the night with a guy and send him packing in the morning, but this was Stiles. He wasn't just some random guy. She cared about him…Lydia was even starting to think she more than cared about him.
It was one of the reasons she hadn't said anything over the past couple of weeks. She wanted to let everything settle a little before telling Stiles how she felt about him. The last thing Lydia wanted was for Stiles to believe she only cared because of how much they'd lost lately. She shifted on her feet, “Are you leaving?” She asked keeping her voice light.
Stiles stood once he’d slipped his boxers on and turned to face Lydia, his expression weary. “If you want me to.” He told her as he reached for his jeans.
“I—no…I mean I wasn't planning on asking you to leave. I mean unless you’d rather go. I don’t want to force you to stay either.” She said her heart slamming against her chest.
Stiles pulled his jeans up, but left them unbuttoned as he turned to face her. He was silent for a minute. “We’re not going to be able to ignore this Lydia. So maybe we should figure out if last night meant something or if it was just two friends being there for each other.” He said his heart clenching at the words knowing which one she’d probably choose.
Lydia opened her mouth and closed it. “Stiles, I don’t think it’s that simple.” She took a step towards him, but he was on the other side of her bed. “You know I care about you, but--”
Stiles held up a hand. “It’s fine. I don’t need any excuses. It’s okay, I get it.” He said giving her a tight smile as he bent down again for his shirt and tugged it roughly over his head.
Lydia frowned, “It’s not an excuse I’m just worried, we’re such good friends,” and once again he cut her off.
“I know, you’re right.” He replied turning to face her again. “We’re friends and last night was just two friends being there for each other. Look,” he paused trying to contain the heavy pressure settling on his chest, “I should head out. I've gotta check in with my dad he’s probably worried that I didn't come home last night.” He told her, but he knew the words were an excuse.
He had told his dad he might stay at Lydia’s depending on how she was holding up. But he couldn't stay after this. Lydia obviously regretted last night and he couldn't deal with that on top of everything. Stiles’ chest was tight and he could feel a burning in his eyes, but he shoved his emotions back for the moment. He couldn't get upset in front of her.
Lydia watched as Stiles reached for his shoes. Everything was happening so quickly and she had no idea how to stop it. But obviously as annoyed as he seemed he thought last night was just about comfort. He thought last night was about Allison and how overwhelming things had been lately and sure; maybe part of it was, but not all of it. Lydia wished they could have taken things slower and that was her fault, but she didn't regret what happened. She could never regret it, it was Stiles. “Please don’t go,” she said stepping closer to him, “Let’s just talk about this Stiles, I don’t want things to be weird.”
Stiles finished pulling on his shoes and stood. “Don’t worry it won’t be.” He stepped forward and pressed a kiss to the side of her head. “I’ll call you later Lyds. We can talk then. I really need to head out.” He told her.
Lydia felt him moving away from her and panic surged inside of her, fear keeping her rooted to the ground as she watched him head for her bedroom door.
Stiles was stepping out into the hallway and he heard Lydia call out his name, but he pretended he didn't. He kept walking eyes burning with unshed tears as shaky hands slipped into his pockets grabbing for the keys to his jeep. He felt a tear slip and he brushed it away roughly. He was an idiot to think Lydia could ever feel anything for him but friendship. He should have known better, he’d been doing so well, trying to move on and now…now everything hurt.
Stiles burst out of her house and walked to his jeep, his pace faster than normal, pain filling his chest. He couldn't keep doing this, he couldn't keep pining after Lydia…especially now. It was time to move on…
“Stiles!”
The sharp sound of Scott’s voice pulled him from his thoughts and he blinked several times straightening up and running a hand over his face, shaking thoughts of Lydia away as he lifted a brow. “Yeah? Sorry.”
Scott sent his friend a worried look, but said nothing. Stiles had been acting stranger than usual lately and as soon as they figured this whole Derek thing out he was going to have a long talk with him. “Lydia just replied to my text, she said she’s on her way.”
Stiles nodded, “Good,” though really it wasn't. Things had been strained between him and Lydia lately. A couple of days after the night he spent at her house, the night they’d slept together, she had stopped by his house saying she wanted to talk, but they never got the chance to. She’d left when she realized he had company. Malia had come back to town and he had been trying to help her with her school admission forms. He’d invited Lydia in, but she’d declined and he hadn't seen much of her since, outside of things having to do with the pack anyway.
“I gonna go wait for Lydia outside, it’s dark.” Scott said squeezing his best friends arm gently.
Stiles nodded and watched as his Scott walked out to the front of the clinic. He let out a sigh and ran a hand through his hair. It was just over two months later and Stiles still thought about Lydia all the time even though now he was dating Malia. Sometimes all Stiles wanted was to just forget. He wanted to forget he’d had the perfect night with Lydia Martin. He wanted to forget the way warmth had filled his chest as she moved beneath him, said his name.
Stiles wanted to forget he loved her and move on and that’s exactly what he’d spent the last few months trying to do. Stiles knew if he kept on trying eventually, the pain in his chest would go away. And until then he’d pretend everything thing was fine. After all, he was used to pretending.