Stydia One Shots

School Buses (Pt. 2)

Sickeningly sweet like honey, don't need money

All I need is you

- For Him, Troye Sivan 

--- 

As the formal went on, Scott and Allison got up to dance while Stiles and Lydia sat at a table across from each other. Stiles glances at her every few seconds while Lydia avoids his gaze, instead starring at Scott and Allison with a small smile. They were cute together.

Stiles clears his throat, making her glance at him once. "Wanna dance?" Stiles asks. He drums his fingers against the table. "Nope." Lydia replies, popping the 'p'. He sighs and stares at her for a while.

She looked perfect, as always, simply because she's Lydia Martin and looking perfect is what she does. Stiles glances out at the crowd again, catching Scott's eye as if Scott would magically make Lydia like him. Scott shrugs a shoulder lightly, giving him a 'you're on your own' look.

Stiles gets up and puts his hands on the table, leaning on it slightly. Lydia looks up, still looking annoyed and bored. "Lydia, get off your cute little ass and dance with me now." He says in a voice he hopes sounds convincing.

Lydia almost rolls her eyes. "Interesting tactic, but I'm going to stick with no." She replies. Stiles is about to sit back down, but stops himself.

"Lydia, get up! Okay? You're going to dance with me. I don't care that you made out with my best friend for some weird power-thing." He makes a hand gesture to Scott, looking annoyed that the incident ever happened.

"Lydia, I've had a crush on you since the third grade, and I know that somewhere inside that cold, lifeless exterior there's an actual human soul. And I'm also pretty sure that I'm the only one who knows how smart you really are."

Stiles pauses only briefly, realizing he'll pass out if he doesn't take breaths in-between his speech that was practiced in the mirror. "And that once you're done pretending being a nitwit, you'll eventually go off and write some insane mathematical theorem that wins you the Nobel Prize."

Lydia raises her eyebrows and he's sure that she's going to slap him our something. Since the words 'cold, lifeless exterior' might've slipped. "Fields Medal." She says, standing up. Stiles sputters but manages to contain himself.

"What?" Stiles asks, clearly confused. His eyes become wide involuntarily when her hands skim over his chest lightly. Lydia smiles slightly at how his 'bad-boy-ness' stopped so quickly. "Nobel doesn't have a prize for mathematics. A Fields Medal's the one I'll be winning."

Stiles awkwardly lets his mouth hang open before he shuts it, not wanting to mess this up. Scott wiggles his eyebrows at Stiles and he rolls his eyes. Lydia continues to pull him onto the dance floor by his hand.

They stop somewhere near the side of the crowd and she wraps her arms around his neck. Stiles smirks and puts her hands on her waist pulling her closer. He rests his chin on her head. Ever so slowly, she leans in and rests her head on his chest.

She can hear his heartbeat. Lydia decides not to comment on how fast its beating right now, and definitely not on how fast hers is beating either. They danced for minutes that felt like seconds, not speaking a word to each other the whole time.

Eventually, the song changes to a faster pop song. Everyone switches to dancing middle school style - with the guy's hands on the girl's waists and the girl's hands on the guys shoulders while theres a space between them.

Its mostly fast, awkward swaying with shared smiles for everyone else. Stiles and Lydia barely move, glancing around the room slowly.

The song is kind of trashy. Its like most of the music that comes on the radio these days. Stiles isn't sure what the songs about, most likely something about drugs, drinking or sex. He'd expect more from the school dance - maybe some music that didn't talk about putting point A in point B. Though, Isaac was the DJ so...

"Stiles?" Lydia says, breaking him out of his thoughts. "Hmm?" He questions, glancing down at the girl. She pulls away from him, making him let out a whimper of protest. She rolls her eyes at him. "Come on." Lydia takes his hand and has to drag him out of the dance, he was so slow.

They step outside of the gym. Stiles is still very confused but follows her anyways. She pulls him towards the buses. "Lyds, where are you taking me?" He asks. He doesn't get a response, but she stops for only a moment when he calls her 'Lyds', which puts a smirk on his face.

Lydia stops behind a bus, deciding its acceptable. For what, he doesn't know. He can barely see her in the moonlight, but can feel her pulling him closer. Stiles is still terribly confused, his lips parting when their hips rub against each other the smallest bit.

She lets go of his hand. Stiles rests his hands on either side of her so he doesn't fall over. He swallows thickly, noticing the position their in.

Stiles has probably had sex and/or gotten a blowjob from half the girls in this school and he hadn't freaked out this much than he was now, having Lydia pinned up against a school bus. "Uh, what are we doing?" Stiles asks.

Even though there was no one else around, she could barely hear him. "I don't know." Lydia replies and snakes her around his neck, pulling him closer slowly. Stiles is sure that he'll never get a chance like this again, and leans down to kiss her without a word. 

They mold together, a bundle of lips and tongues and everything sinful. "Ly-" He's cut off by another kiss. "Lydia-" Another one, "Lyd-" Another one, "Lydia-" And another one. When Stiles tries to say something for the fourth time, she pulls away, pouting at the boy. 

"What?" Lydia questions, already missing him kissing her. "You wanna go on a date with me?" Stiles asks, tilting his head. She smiles, nods, and pulls him down for yet another earth shattering kiss. 

A/N 

I'm crying while writing this 'cause I'm watching Motel California.

'Scott just listen to me, your not no one, your someone, Scott your my best friend. I need you. Scott your my brother'. 

Omfg, the feels.