Stiles shouted, along side Scott, the lyrics to the song that swept through the house, surprisingly loud compared to the size of the speakers it was playing through. It was just any other normal party, a three day weekend that someone no one particularly knew had decided to throw. Isaac had suggested the four of them go and when Scott decided he'd be going with Allison, the group shared playful looks of annoyance. Since Isaac couldn't drive (even though they were seniors), he rode with Jackson while Stiles stuck with the faithful jeep to get him there. Jackson checked his phone again. Nothing.
"Lydia was supposed to be here by now." He shouted over the music.
Stiles stopped singing momentarily to check his phone as well. "I haven't heard from her."
They brushed it off, deciding to move their group towards where they would find Scott in the living room. The boy was wrapped around Allison, like he usually was, but they managed to pry him from the girl enough to offer him a drink. Everything felt good, no stress of school and it had been a while since any of them had had a good laugh.
Jackson checked his phone but there was no sign of his girlfriend. Stiles noticed this and searched the room with hope. As if sensing this, the front door opened to reveal his favorite strawberry blonde and he grinned.
But his face dropped at the sight of her tear stained cheeks and the look of surprise that swept across her face at how many people were here. She expected it to be a smaller party. Practically elbowing everyone on his way through the crowd, he quickly made his way to where Lydia stood shocked by the entrance. She relaxed upon seeing the boy, the familiar face causing her to wilt when he embraced her and she almost began to weep again. His flannel acted as her shield from the people she could feel staring at her. She coughed awkwardly into his shirt and he rubbed her back soothingly before pulling her away to get a good look. Eyes doing a full body scan, he concluded that she didn't appear to be physically harmed in anyway and it made him relax just the tiniest bit.
"What's going on, Red?" He asked and she forced a smile at the nickname. But before she had time to answer–
"Stiles?"
He turned over his shoulder to where he'd been standing before to see a concerned Jackson had called his name. Scott and Isaac, who had been talking with him, had also turned their attention towards Lydia, their laughter slowly dying as they noticed something was off. Jackson raised a brow, asking if everything was okay to which Stiles gave a small nod. He would take care of it. Jackson didn't turn all the way though, looking past Stiles and towards his girlfriend.
"I want to talk to you, Stiles." She stepped closer and tugged on the sleeve of his flannel. He looked back at her, then to Jackson again and gave him another nod.
Lydia curled her hand around his wrist with a sniffle. Stiles wasn't quite sure what to think as they shuffled their way towards the stairs. He hadn't the faintest idea of what was wrong when they found an empty room. And while they settled he kept trying to wrap his brain around the image of her crying face. It was dark inside and smelled like too much perfume, the music becoming muffled when he closed the door behind them. He chose to ignore the moans from the room next door, instead sitting on the bed next the where Lydia was looking down into her lap.
"Red?" He leaned a little closer, trying to catch a glimpse of her face. She looked small. Had she always been that small? He suddenly couldn't remember.
"They're getting a divorce."she whimpered and he immediately knew this was about her parents.
Stiles sighed. "Ah, I'm so sorry."
"It's not that, I-I mean I saw it coming, I knew." She coughed, sniffled some more. He knew it too. There had been plenty of instances where they would argue while he was at her house but lately it would be every time he was over. Every. Time. They couldn't seem to have a conversation without raised voices or rude looks. The worst was when Lydia called him late at night. "Were you sleeping?" She would whisper and usually he would say no even if he had been because he could hear the shouting behind her and the own strain in her voice. It wasn't horrible because the call was late, it was more about the fact that she would pretend she hadn't called because they were fighting. "Could you–" she would pause, the slamming of a door in the back and her voice wavered slightly. "Um, I want to go over the homework, if that's okay."
"Then what is it?" He asked. Her shoulders slumped.
She shook her head. "I don't think either of them cares who gets custody of me." Even though it was dark, he caught sight of a few tears and wrapped his arms around her again. Maybe she thought he didn't know she was crying, so she tried to be quiet, or maybe she didn't want him to know she was crying but she kept making these awkward choking noises, like she was trying to clear her throat or something. It made Stiles' heart lurch. "Of course they want you, maybe it's just hard for them. They're going through a lot too." She shook her head against his chest, failing to speak. "Red, they're so lucky to have you. I promise they want you, I promise. . .Why didn't you want to talk to Jackson about this? I'm sure he would understand."
"He's adopted, he was chosen, his parents want him."
This didn't make much sense to Stiles, he could relate much less than Jackson would be able to. Stiles' parents didn't chose him nor were they divorced and had to chose him. He was about to ask if she could just move out but remembered that, unlike him, she wasn't eighteen. The one year difference still legally made her a minor and she would have great say in where she lived but would not be able to choose who she would live with
"You don't necessarily know that yours don't." She doesn't respond at this, blurry vision aimed at the floor. He followed her gaze even though he knew nothing would be there except for the beige carpet. The couple in the room next to them made the whole situation eerily uncomfortable and Stiles sighed. "want to spend the night at my house?" He looked to her again.
She bit her bottom lip in thought and spoke shyly."Would you mind if I spent the whole weekend?"
He grinned."Of course not."
He gave her one more big hug before nodding towards the door. She wiped under her eyes with the sleeve of her jacket as they made their way downstairs. Jackson was right where they'd left him though Scott wasn't around anymore and it was kind of just him and Isaac. He didn't look too antsy but every so often would look at the stairs. He practically jumped at the sight of Lydia and Stiles, making his way slowly towards them.
Lydia's eyes grew wide. "Stiles, I–" but he was already reading her mind, slipping the keys to his jeep in her hand. "I'll talk to him." He gave her a warm smile and she returned it before they split in different directions. Jackson's eyes trailed after her before he reached Stiles. "how is she?"
Stiles sighed, rubbed the back of his neck."She's uh. . .she's struggling. She wants to spend the weekend at my place but I think it'd be cool if you stopped by later, possibly with some ice cream."
"Anything else I should know?"
He shrugged. "I'm not gonna tell you anything she doesn't want you to know. The best thing you can do now is just be there for her."
"Of course, thanks for taking care of her man." Jackson clasped a hand on his shoulder, gave it a friendly squeeze before turning back to the party.
Back at Stiles' house, he made a makeshift mattress on the floor for himself, piling his own bed with lots of pillows and blankets the way Lydia liked it. She emerged from the bathroom across the hall in a pair of sleep shorts she kept at his house just in case and a gray shirt that said the name of some college he had probably planned on attending a while ago. He asked if she needed anything, checking the clock on the wall to see it was nearing midnight while she slipped under the covers in his bed and answered with a small 'no'. Smiling, he got comfortable on the floor, everything going black.
A few days later and all seemed to be going well. Lydia and Allison were stretched across the bleachers, watching the boys practice for the upcoming lacrosse tournament. Scott chucked the ball at Stiles, aiming for his face but luckily missing as it hit the lanky boys shoulder, drawing his attention from the girls back to Scott.
"OW!" He emphasized.
"Quit staring." Scott laughed and picked up another ball in the net of his lacrosse stick. Despite the warning, Stiles scoffed and returned to watching the bleachers. Jackson was there now, in the midst of putting on his lacrosse gear while taking a seat next to Lydia. He was grinning and said something that made Lydia smile though it almost seemed polite and not genuine. She leaned into his side a little despite the odd gesture. Stiles turned away when they began to kiss. He couldn't watch that. He hated to watch that.
"It always amazes me how pathetic you are." Scott said.
"Shut up and throw the damn ball." Stiles groaned. How is it that he was always stuck being just a friend. Just a friend. Friend, Stiles scoffed, caught the ball that Scott had thrown to him, I hate that damn word.
"Hey Stiles, video games at your place after practice?" Jackson asked while jogging by him, making his way towards centerfield signifying they were about to begin warm ups. Of course Lydia would go for the lacrosse captain, Stiles thought while nodding at his friend. Jackson grinned before blowing his whistle to get the team to gather around him. Sighing, Stiles made his way to the bleachers.
"I could still convince him to get you off the bench." Lydia and Allison moved down a row or two to sit next to him. The strawberry blonde wrapped her arms around him and began to massage his shoulders in an attempt to ease him. "You're getting good, I know he'll let you play if you show him you've improved."
"We've talked to him before, remember?" Stiles sighed.
"Yeah but that's when you sucked." Allison added. Stiles threw a glare her way and she apologized quietly.
Lydia's hands pressed up his neck before settling in his wild hair, fingers circling his scalp causing him to hum and close his eyes a bit. "Focus, Stilinski."
"Sorry, uh, he's coming over tonight, I could talk to him then?" Stiles suggested.
"It's a miracle you've survived this long." Allison snickered causing Stiles to lightly punch her in the arm. Exclaiming, she hit him back and soon Lydia's fingers left his hair as the boy threw himself at Allison while she shrieked.
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It wasn't until two in the morning, when Stiles was half asleep and Jackson wanted to beat him at one more round of Call of Duty, that any real conversation happened. At least, conversation that didn't revolve around video games.
"So, what's going on with you and Lydia?" Stiles attempted to sound casual.
Jackson set his controller on the coffee table and sunk into the couch. "What do you mean? We're perfect."
Stiles set his controller down as well. How could he think they were okay? Lydia was more distant than ever, barely speaking to him and any conversation was minimal. Not to mention she seemed to be coming to Stiles to talk more than she would go to Jackson. Yes, they were best friends but she was also very close to Jackson.
Clearing his throat, Stiles began to speak nervously. "So about the lacrosse game on–" he was interrupted abruptly when Jackson surged forward, heading straight for Stiles' face. The action caused him to stutter spastically and fall against the couch to avoid any contact with the other boys lips. Luckily though, Jackson stopped his own journey forward and though they were still close, they weren't touching.
"Are you into guys?" Stiles was still leaning as far back and as far away from Jacksons face as he could get, eyes so wide they were soon to pop out of his skull.
"I–. . . I thought you were." Jackson said embarrassingly.
"You thought I was gay?"
"Yeah, I mean, I heard you had a thing with Derek Hale."
Stiles shook his head rapidly, still confused by their close proximity. "No, no definitely not, I'm one hundred and fifty percent positive I've had a crush on your girlfriend since she moved here."
Jackson scoffed, as if the thought was impossible. "You like Lydia?"
"You like guys!" Stiles exclaimed, finally shoving his best friend off his body. They sat on completely opposite ends of the couch now, Jackson still a little embarrassed by the move he'd tried to make but Stiles was just trying to add everything up in his head.
"Does Lydia know?" He asked.
"What do you think?"
"Jackson," Stiles sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose, "why are you still with her?" His voice softened. Jackson could tell he was hurt.
"I love her. I do. But. . . But I guess just not in that way anymore."
This confused Stiles more than anything. How could someone not love Lydia in that way? Everyone loves Lydia. Or at least he thought everyone did but now it seemed maybe it was only him.
"You have to tell her." Jackson said, his eyes pleading. Stiles broke out of his thoughts.
"What the hell do you mean I have to tell her? You're her boyfriend!"
"Yeah, and you're her best friend."
"I don't think your grasping the concept that this is your responsibility."
"Stiles, I need you–" Lydia suddenly bursts through the door. Her sentence fell short. "Jackson." She found she couldn't stop glancing between the two boys, like looking anywhere else in the room might cause her eternal damnation. "It's late, I thought you might be gone by now."
"It is late. . .what are you doing here?"
"Relax man, her parents are probably in the middle of something. It happens sometimes, she'll come here to spend the night." Stiles mumbled a quick explanation, confused as to why he might be jealous in the first place, "she just wants to talk. Right Lyds?"
The girl nodded quickly to back up his statement. A minute or two passed in silence as someone waiting for someone else to speak. Stiles waited for Jackson to confess, Jackson waiting for Stiles to tell, and Lydia waited for either of them to dismiss Jackson. Finally, her boyfriend stood and held his fist out. "Catch you later?" Stiles examined it for a moment before warily bumping it.
"Yeah, catch you later."
The tension rose a little, Jackson stopping at Lydia's side but her gaze still traced over Stiles' features. "Babe?" Jackson questioned. Lydia turned to him, her head sill low. He pecked her lips, told her he'd see her soon, and left. As soon as the front door had closed behind him, Lydia wiped the corners of her mouth with her thumb. Stiles thought of it as an odd gesture but brushed it off when she sat next to him with a sigh.
"I want to break up with Jackson." She put it bluntly. He looked at where her hands rest in her lap. She did this thing when she was nervous, she always counted the lines in the palms of her hands. He watched her lips move, barely so, muttering the numbers to herself.
"Oh?"
"I just feel distant and I'm not sure if it's him or me but something is off. I don't know what to do." She glanced at him but quickly returned to counting.
Shit, is now the right time to say it? He couldn't break her heart. Jackson was her everything, Jackson was her first love. Stiles remembered the night she had come to his house, awestruck and daydreaming about the words 'I love you' had left her lips. And though Stiles shattered into a million pieces, he pretended to be happy for her. Because he was the best friend, not the boyfriend.
"Jackson's gay." He blurted, though he had meant to say something more sentimental, something that would ease her into the statement.
Lydia turned to him sharply, anger already in her voice. "What?"
"Shit. Oh shit, oh shit I didn't mean to say it like that, or-or tell you like that!" He stood when she did as well, already storming towards the door.
"Jackson is not gay, he's dating me."
"H-he told me tonight." Stiles blocked the front door. She glared at him.
"A) he would have told me himself and B) why would he tell you before he told me if he was which he isn't."
"He didn't have to tell me, he came onto me and that's how I found out. And he wanted me to tell you, he was afraid you would be mad, which you are."
"I'm mad cause what you're saying is complete and utter bullshit!" She yelled and pushed him out of the way.
"When have I ever lied to you, you can't be mad at me when I'm telling the truth." He attempted. She didn't respond, just made a loud grunting noise and threw the front door open. His heart leapt and he pulled her back inside by grabbing her wrist. "What?!" She yelled.
Taking a risk, Stiles pulled her close and kissed her. He expected there to be fireworks or butterflies, some sort of sign that would indicate maybe she had liked him too. Just when he thought there was a chance, Lydia pulled off sharply and struck her hand across his cheek. "Bullshit." She muttered, slamming the door behind her.
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"Dad, I'm fine." Stiles spoke into his pillow but the knocking at his door came again. Groaning, he jumped up from his bed and threw open his door
"Dad–" his face dropped.
"I'm not your dad." Lydia pushed past him shyly, waiting for him to close the bedroom door.
"I talked to Jackson." She sighed when he didn't say anything, sat on his bed. He cleared his throat, sat next to her. "We're okay. I mean, we're not okay-we broke up- but he doesn't want to lose me as a friend and I agreed."
Stiles licked his lips, watched her gaze float down to her palms. He wanted to grab her hand but restricted himself. He was still only the best friend. The best friend who had kissed the best friend. "How are you?"
"You like me?" She ignored his question all together. Eyes widening, Stiles looked down so she couldn't see his reddened cheeks.
"I'm really sorry about that, I should've just waited for a different opportunity but I've liked you for so long I couldn't go another damn second without–" he sighed, "holding you. Kissing you–"
"Stop," the word hurt his stomach, he felt sick. He almost got up and left just to vomit. "I'm not used to. . .you." She said. It didn't make much sense but somehow he understood what she meant. "And I'm sorry for yelling at you."
He told her it was okay and she understood. After a short and slightly awkward hug, he walked out to her car and told her goodnight. Everything was the same, but nothing was the same. For the longest time it had been Jackson, Lydia, and Stiles. Now it was Jackson and Lydia and Stiles, all friends, no dating. The concept confused him more than anything as he lay in bed, drifting to sleep.
About an hour later, his dreams turned sour, shaking and shaking until suddenly he realized maybe he wasn't in a dream anymore. He grumbled, peaked his eyes open a bit to see who had woken him.
"Lydia?" He questioned but she didn't answer, instead leaning closer to him and suddenly he felt wide awake. "Red?" It was a whisper. She kissed him, pressed their lips together so gently that Stiles' head spun. He wasn't awake enough for this yet. Was he still dreaming? He had to be. He wanted to stop, he wanted to ask her why she had come here but he could barely manage to kiss her straight. Was he doing it right? Was he kissing her good enough? She'd kissed better people than him, he knew. She didn't think he was a good kisser, shit, she probably thought he was horrible. Am I kissing her right? He felt stiff from thinking too much about it. Then all he could think about was kissing her, but in a good way. She tasted like fruit, like something sweet and her lips were coated lightly in her favorite Chapstick, the lemony kind that he borrowed from her occasionally when he couldn't find his own. Relaxing, he lifted a hand to cradle her neck, his thumb rubbing her cheek. He nearly gasped, feeling her left leg cross over his body so she was now straddling him. He deepened the kiss, paused for a quick second of air before swooping back in.
But she broke off, head hanging down as she let out a quiet sob and he sat up quickly to comfort her. While his hands went to hold her shoulders, she held the back of her own hand to her mouth in an attempt to silence her crying. All she could focus on was trying not to let tears fall from her eyes but they kept coming so fast and so thick that they began to sting. Stiles' touch only made it worse. He was so caring. He was so perfect. How could he love something as broken as her? How could he dare to touch shattered glass?
"I want to hear you talk." She managed, voice strained.
"What?"
"I want to hear you talk, I want to hear your voice. Tell me something, anything." She practically begged, wrapping her arms around his neck. In his surprise, Stiles was at a loss for words. It wasn't until she really began to weep did he find something to say.
"Okay, okay. You're fine, Red, just breath, listen to me."
After a while, there was silence; the end of her crying and his stories. It was a nice silence, not uncomfortable in the least as Stiles stroked Lydia's hair. At some point he had gotten tired of sitting up and laid back against the mattress again, the girl seemingly weightless on top of him.
"Where does this put us?" He asked, utterly confused. Completely, one hundred percent, devastatingly confused. She didn't answer and it scared him more than anything. "I don't want to lose you."
"You won't."
"How do you know?" He tried not to sound panicked but she didn't answer again. "Lydia–"
"I don't know! I don't know!" The girl sat up quickly, fingers running through her hair. "We kissed but we're friends and I didn't know I liked you until you kissed me and everything came crashing together!"
"you like me?" he mumbled but she was still in the middle of her statement so it was stepped over.
"I don't know anything right now. I don't know if I want to be with you or be your friend or if I need to be on my own or if this is just something I'm doing because the whole Jackson situation is messing with me. All I really know is that I feel good when I'm with you, like I'm worth something,"
"You never felt that way with Jackson?" He asked, sitting up to follow her, their faces too close for him not to watch her lips move when she spoke. Lydia held his face in her hands. "Yes but not the way you make me feel. And I didn't realize it. I'm so clueless, I can't believe I didn't see it." She chuckled like it was funny. "But I don't know everything. I don't know where we are now. All I know is that I want to keep kissing you. Just for now, while it's still confusing and we can figure everything out later."
Stiles nodded. "Okay, calm down, Red. I can do that." He leaned forward, captured her lips with his.
1 year later
"We're going to be late!" He yelled, checking his watch, glancing up the stairs.
"I know!"
"If you know then why aren't you rushing?"
"We arrive in beauty, not on time." Lydia explained, finally coming into sight.
"Holy fuck." Stiles mumbled as she cascaded down the grand staircase, putting in her earrings while trying to descend carefully. Her dress was long and jeweled, a pale skin tone, almost white, color. It outlined her curves, complimenting her figures so well that Stiles had to steady himself on the banister. Lydia blushed at the way he was watching her.
"Stop that." She chuckled. He shook his head, mouth hanging open as he looked her up and down. "We're going to be late, remember?" Pecking him on the cheek, Lydia passed by the boy to grab her coat from a hook by the front door.
"Lydia," Was all he could manage. "Lydia," He tried to say 'you're beautiful' but he couldn't say anything other than her name. "Lydia," he tried again.
"What?" She laughed, beginning to open the front door. Stiles rushed to her side, closed the door again causing her to be pinned against it, between his arms. "We're going to be late."
"Fuck it; you're killing me." He licked his lips.
"You're the best man, aren't you supposed to be there right about now?"
He started to lean in for a kiss."Dad can wait."
"Stiles."
He groaned at how right she was. She reached for the door again but he stopped her. "Wait, uh," he grabbed her hands, "you're okay with them, right? I mean, my dad and your mom? I know the divorce was hard on you but my dad would do something about this if you weren't okay still."
Lydia smiled at how caring he was and promised she was fine, thanking him for asking anyway.
After a year of figuring everything out, Beacon Hills felt like home once again. Stiles and Lydia slowly developed into a relationship, something awkward at first but eventually what Stiles had always hoped it to be. Not to mention the trio was still a trio, jackson bringing up one day how their roles had essentially been reversed. They laughed about it. Most importantly, Lydia was happy. That's all that really mattered to Stiles.
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Authors note:
This is lowkey hella sloppy and I've also been gone for like ten years.
Comment, read, enjoy!
-Chloe