So I had written this a few months ago, but had left it be for a while because I didn't know if I felt that it was satisfactory. After re-reading it though. I felt happy with it and felt the worse that could happen is that people didn't like it. But none of us is here, or at least those I've seen, to worry about what other people think. We do like positive feedback, but this is a place for us to share our creations whether someone likes them or not. I'm happy with this piece and that's all that matters.

I hope you all enjoy this. It is a Stydia, but they're one of my all time favorite pairings.

He woke up to find a mass of hair in his face and a body spooned against him. Stiles had fallen asleep in the middle of their conversation, but he had been very tired and didn't mind waking up to Lydia Martin in his arms. Lying there with her in his arms was like a surreal dream that he never thought he would be able to live. It was almost as if he should pinch himself to make sure it was all real. He didn't need to though, and that was what was amazing. There was a ringing noise coming from somewhere and he realized it was his phone and even though he didn't want to leave the bed, it was Sunday and his dad was probably calling him.

Trying to pull his arm out from under her without waking her, he paused as she rolled over on her stomach and freed his hand, but she didn't wake. Going t the bathroom where he had left the suit, he rummaged through the pockets until he found his phone and answered it, going into the farthest room, which happened to be the kitchen.

He leaned against the counter. "Hey."

"I've tried to call you many times already mister. I almost thought you guys got murdered because Chase said Lydia hadn't answered his texts either."

Sighing, he ran a hand over his face. "Maxxie, I'm sorry we wound up just crashing at her place."

"Oh, I see." His tone was loaded and Stiles was quick to correct his assumptions.

"I fell asleep in the middle of talking, so no, none of that."

He heard a sigh from the other end. "Awe, how cute is that. Is she awake?"

"No, she's still sleeping." He glanced into the other room to make sure he was right and then went back to the kitchen.

"Awe, are you guys going to make breakfast and just lay in bed all day? That would be so like a lifetime movie."

"Gross, and I don't know what we're doing. I might just go back to the dorm soon, I have two papers due today and the one I'll probably won't be allowed to be accepted because I skipped out on it to go on the date. Totally worth it." Oh, was it worth it. He had stayed overnight, in the same bed as the girl he loved and even though nothing happened, it was still perfect.

"So cute."

"Maxxie."

"Alright, alright. I'm meeting Chase for lunch, you guys should show up, at that one place in half an hour."

Stiles sighed. "I don't want to wake her up."

"So tell her I demanded you." The boy said and then hung up on him.

"Nice." He said this out loud to himself and walked into her room to find her laying in bed, awake.

"Wake me for what?" She said as he sat on the bed beside her.

Smiling down at her rumpled hair, and her gorgeous pale skin, he wondered at the situation he was in. "Maxxie wants us to meet him and Chase at that restaurant."

She sighed and stretched, resting a hand on her stomach. "I have to stop eating out so much, I need some vegetables."

He shrugged. "We could always cancel."

Scoffing she left the bed and rummaged through her closet and pulled out a sundress and a half jacket. "Cancel? On Maxxie? Never would dream of it." She smiled and looked over at him watch her dress.

"I only have a tux with me." She laughed and went to her dresser and pulled out a plain grey t-shirt, it was loose like his shirts normally were. He held it up incredulously. "'I don't have any shirts you would approve of?'" He mocked her voice.

"I might have just been thinking for myself." She picked up her brush and headed to the bathroom. "We'll stop by your dorm so you can change into actual clothes."

xxx

Damn life. Damn expectations pushed on to you by adults that have lived through it; gone through something you haven't yet and so you feel subconsciously that they're right. Damn it if Stiles was walking on the campus of a college he didn't know was the right choice. Sure, it was well spoke of and all that, but that didn't mean it was right for him. He could do the work and all that, but it was more of if he felt at ease here, like if it felt like the only possible choice.

Be a doctor? Why were they all surprised back home? Was his reason not plainly known? Did they really have to question him? His mother had died due to the lack of knowledge of her condition; he knew firsthand what it felt to be on the end of being told there was no known cure. So why is it so hard to believe that he wanted to make a cure?

Also, to feel like they thought you couldn't make it was horrible. As if they didn't believe in him to be smart enough, or have his heart in it enough to succeed. It made him simultaneously want to give up and prove them wrong. To, later down the road of life, be able to shove it back in their faces and say 'I am a doctor, I made the cure, I proved you wrong.' Was the whole point of getting the acceptance letter not enough to show that one of the top schools in the country thought so? Of course that made his own doubts surface. That they were right, that, even though he made it into the college without any sort of problem, he would not be able to push himself to make it.

Yet here he was, Stiles Stilinski, walking down the sidewalk to a little food kiosk, on the campus of a famous medical school, to buy a hotdog. It was the day before classes had started, and he had moved into his dorm, which was empty; no roommate. He guessed he should be happy that he got to have a choice of beds. Not that it mattered, the room was mirrored on either side; bed, desk, three drawer dresser.

He paid the man the ridiculous amount of money, like five dollars (they weren't kidding about expense problems of New York), and sat down at a picnic table. There were about four of the slightly wet, falling apart wooden picnic tables which were crowded with more people than was comfortable. All these strangers in one place, though not all were strangers he mused as he watched two boys suck each other's faces at their own table, and it was mind blowing.

Having only ever lived in Beacon Hills, growing up with the same people you saw every day; it was such a new experience. It was terrifying to think he was alone in this crowd. That, of the thousands of students in the school he had been so proud of getting into, he did not know one face; not one name. It was scary to think that he had to make friends, because let's face it, Stiles Stilinski was not at all a recluse. Sure, he could be chronically shy, but he needed social activities, even if it only meant one friend.

Wow, these dudes haven't stopped touching each other for like twenty minutes. He had finished his hotdog, but of course what else was he supposed to do? He had no plans or friends all day. So he sat, and he peopled watched. Those people included the slim blond boy straddling the fit brunette. It would be lies to say it didn't amuse him. Other people around them were getting uncomfortable; he could even hear a lady down the table from him whisper, quite loudly, "Nasty fags."

The place cleared pretty quickly leaving only an old, obviously oblivious, old man at the far end of the table closest to the street. He quickly turned away as the boys fell apart laughing and the blond caught his eyes. Shit, caught smiling stupidly at a couple of groping gays.

"Enjoy the show?" he was asked.

Why not? Hell, they could be cool, of course they probably thought he was getting some kind of disgusting turn on from them. But hey, he could have friends on the first day. Pfft, right.

Turning back to them he smirked, trying for his old cocky self. He wasn't going to change himself here because it was hard to make friends. That was too much work for him. "I'm just amazed at how fast you can clear a room. Fuck, a park."

They laugh, and he is almost shocked to realize he caused it. But of course, wasn't he the class clown back at school? Making jokes about himself to get people to laugh was a great feeling, was the way he even made friends. Then, of course, was his sarcasm, his only defense against the world.

Coming down from their laughter, Stiles was pretty sure it was a bit more than needed, probably forced, they smiled at him. The blond held out his hand. "I'm Max, or Maxxie. Two x's, I E. This sexy bloke is Chase."

He shook his hand, and then the others. Maxxie was the all-out definition of the modern gay. Too tight shirt, but was perfect when it showed off subtly pronounced muscles. His blonde hair was obviously bleached, but his eyebrows were a dirty blonde, and very thin. He spent too much time on his hair, obviously, but he looked good.

The 'bloke,' Chase, was not so gay looking, meaning that the kissing would have been a main benefactor in knowing he was boy friendly. His hair was choppy and short, enough for a handful he had seen. His look was more like Stiles; t-shirt, jeans, light jacket. Just like a normal guy, just gay, and buff.

"I'm Stiles." The blond smiled; the brunette nodded. Cue awkward silence. He internally sighed, here it comes. The boy was pretty much asking the question straight out with the look in his bright blue eyes, the blond hair really brought them out. Was he gay? God, Stiles hated that question. "I don't claim a category, if that's what you're trying to ask."

Maxxie looked shocked at first and then shook his head. "No, it's not like I-" Man, if Stiles was looking around though, he'd want him. It was fucking adorable that he was stuttering over a simple, but correct, assumption. Apparently Chase agreed with him, smiling up at him like he was the most amazing person in the world. Stiles ached for that look.

Wow, he didn't know that about himself. But it was true right? Didn't everyone look for it, though? Wasn't the subconscious goal of all humans to find someone who gave them that look? As if you were the only person in the world. No, it was more that they knew there were so many other people out there in the world, but they knew none of them would ever be right next to you. To think that someone would only want you, even if you gave them the chance, they would only laugh and kiss you on the nose.

Stiles waved him off and smiled reassuringly. "It's okay to admit it. I mean, I am the only person to stay, and being a guy I can understand you thinking it."

The adorable boy smiled with obvious relief and leaned against Chase. Said boy gave him a kiss on the cheek and whispered a 'you're so cute' into his ear, grinning like a little kid he kissed him. The adoration and love between them almost made his heart ache. Maxxie turned to him.

"Well, Stiles, I would hate to end this, but Chase needs to go move into his dorm. Would you like our numbers to get ahold of us? It's not like we really have friends here; we're from up in Maine."

Stiles shrugged and handed over his phone to the boy. Sure, anyone else would have not given their phone to a stranger, but they were gay. Not that that meant they were automatically trustworthy, but from dealing with cocky ass Danny at home, if he was going to trust anyone, it would be someone as honestly gay as Maxxie.

"I'm from California, so I can understand it."

He handed the phone back and Chase's eyebrows rose. "This is a far way from home."

Stiles scoffed. "Thank the lord for that." They chuckled and stood to leave; Maxxie sending a 'text me' over his shoulder. Stiles stayed where he was, enjoying the look of the sun falling. Was it really that late?

He smiled at himself, as if it was all hitting him at once, right this moment. Sitting here, on campus of a medical school he never would have imagined he would be given a chance at, he realized he had done it. Well, he had made it this far, but this was a huge point in his life. The day after he had left everything behind, and the day before he would start on his new life; this was the turning point.

Staring off into the sun setting, yes, he had sat there for a few more hours; he frowned at the head that disrupted his view. A strawberry blond halo of hair blocked the sun, and then he found himself dumbfounded. She was here. In the sea of strange faces and unknown names, she was here. As if this day was THE day. The first day of his life and he realized he had the chance to have her in it. He forced her name from his lips, not wanting to let it out for fear that he would wake up, or the hallucination would stop. It was like a forbidden promise on his tongue; a forbidden fruit.

"Lydia."

xxx

"It'll have to do." She said as she looked around her small flat. Well, it had a master bedroom; not to mention separate kitchen, living area, and dining area, and was already fully furnished. She knew that it wasn't small to most. The view was of the campus, she wanted to be close, though the skyscrapers beyond were more her taste. The brick and stone buildings of her new school were below Lydia's flat; her new playground.

College; what a meaning filled world. Tomorrow it meant starting classes, doing laughably easy homework, just making it through without getting bored and quitting. It also meant drinking, parties, crazy hot boys and long sweaty night under the sheets with them. In years to come it meant having the needed education to get a career and be able to support yourself and a family, if you're so inclined. Headaches, long nights, never ending friendships, painfully short relationships, coffee.

Of course she could take everything the world threw at her in stride. She was Lydia Fucking Martin, and nothing could surprise her. Being ready for anything that the world could come up with to send normal people into a crying miserable mess, it would not affect her. She was Lydia Fucking Martin, and she controlled the show.

Wondering out the front door without even thinking of unpacking, she followed the sidewalk to wherever they led. Tomorrow she would deal with the hassle of finding where her classes and being able to tell how her schedule worked out. It annoyed her to have to deal with it, but it was needed to become the best doctor in the world.

Best doctor? Hmmm, interesting thought, that. She was in no way so full of herself to think she could or would be the best doctor in the world. However, she knew she could be close to it, whoever the person happened to be. She was a certified genius growing up in a small town, unable to be challenged by teachers when her own IQ was far above theirs. This was what she absolutely needed right? College work was supposed to be 100 times more complicated, not to mention lengthy. She needed something to challenge her brain, to make her feel humble about her knowledge.

Humble? Lydia Martin wanted to feel humble? Was humble the wrong term to use then? Or was it something subconscious? Thinking about it, it made perfect sense to think that somewhere in her being Lydia didn't always like being the smartest person in the room. Shit; smartest person in town. The snobby, smart, rich bitch. That was what she had become because of the limitations to what she could be taught by her high school teachers. So simple were they to her that she started teaching herself, languages and long dead religions. None could reach a common level as her, and it almost held her back.

So here she was, in the college of medicine to see if she could find a worthy opponent. Well, that wasn't the only reason she was here, of course a career was needed to be gained. She liked having money, and she would have it. Is she just here for the salary? No, she loved the idea of saving people's lives, especially when she was put through so much pain from deaths.

Allison. Aiden. Grandma. Allison's mom. Boyd. Erica. The list goes on. So many people had died in the short time it took to graduate high school. So yeah, saving people diffidently called to her, as if it was her way to make up for their deaths. She wasn't the cause, but she felt she needed to do this, not only for herself, but for them. Beautiful people who were lost to the void too soon; it was always too soon.

She needed groceries, but tonight she would deal with one of the kiosks around campus. There had to be one that had something on the menu that wasn't soaked in grease or covered in diabetes. This wasn't going to be a common thing of course; she would gain weight so fast it would make her head spin. It was the first night though; she was going to indulge in maybe a nice pretzel with cheese.

As she searched for her craved dished, her eyes landed on a delicious piece of man meat walking her way. Tall boy, broad shoulders and bulging biceps; gosh, the dark hair and dangerously full lips called to her imagination. Before she could let her imagination roamed she noticed his arm, resting on the shoulders of an obviously flaming shorter boy. Platinum blond, meticulous hair, tight but approving shirt.

Gay.

It's perfect though right? That the first guy she has seen that suits her taste is also into men. Though the bouncy little ball of energy is his polar opposite, you can see the adoration in his eyes as he looks down to say something in his ears. Lydia smiled looking at something as sincere as love.

Love. What a loaded word. It was disgusting and disarming. It brought you to your knees and splayed open your soul. There was nothing more scary and hurtful. Trust; ha, as if she could trust someone enough to let them inside her mind, let alone her heart. To let someone see your true essence, the very bare core of your being; it was like suicide. It was like giving someone every weapon possible to kill you, and trusting that they wouldn't.

Fucking terrifying.

The blond noticed her looking and smiled at her. Blushing she turned her head away as she prepared to pass them. She had been caught staring; how embarrassing. Not to mention there was a possibility her disgust of it could have been showing in her eyes. Or would they have seen jealousy? No, not possible.

Was it?

"Oh my gosh, I just love your hair." Lydia sighed and smiled up at the slim boy standing in her way. Though it was so amazing that he could not have any fear at being himself; of just throwing himself into conversation with a complete stranger. Of course, she also felt a bit annoyed to tell the truth. But, she wouldn't be Lydia without at least a smidgen of annoyance in her at all times.

"Thank you." She sighed, but still smiled as he reached out to grab a strand of her perfectly straightened, strawberry blond hair. "I think you got me beat though." Though she was obnoxiously against dye jobs, it fit this boy so well. It went with his personality; it was on his sleeve, as loud and plain as his hair.

He scoffed at her. "Oh jeez, don't you tell me what you obviously know I want to hear. The color is so obviously natural, I'm so fucking jealous." She fucking loved this kid, right off the bat. How could she not? He was just adorable.

"Babe, come on leave the stranger alone." She smirked at him putting extra meaning into the word. Meaning; you could be freaking this girl the hell out, leave her be.

"Hey, I'm Lydia." She said; sticking out her hand to him before his hunk of a boyfriend could pull him away.

With a beaming smiled, he grabbed her hand and kissed it. So very, very gay. "It's very nice to meet you, Lydia. I'm Maxxie, and this hunk behind me is my boyfriend, Chase."

"Hi, Lydia; I'm the hunk." Chase said from over his shoulder, putting his arms around him making him squeal and try to get away from him.

"Chase! We are in public." He scolds as his boyfriend tries to nibble at his neck. Maxxie breaks free and hits in the arm with a serious look on his face. Gah, they're so cute. Since when did Lydia ever think like this?

Must be all the homosexuality in the air.

She laughed out loud at his cocky smirk, not to mention his word choice, which was her exact description of him. Who would have thought gay people could be so funny; so real? Danny back home had been cool, but he was also not as gay as this ball of energy in front of her. Danny was gay, but not gay enough it seemed.

"Can we have your number? You know, for hanging out or whatever?" Maxxie beamed at her, begging with his eyes.

"I thought you were gay?" Lydia held back her chuckle as his face fell in realization of how he sounded. Of course, it was completely obvious he meant literally what he said, but who was Lydia to hold back from such a perfect answer. Jeez, she sounded just like that clown from back home, Stiles.

Of course, Lydia didn't have any friends yet. Who better than two people who weren't going to hit on her or try anything; except maybe steal her shoes. Glancing down at the thought, while pulling out her phone, she noticed that he probably was her size. Better put a lock on the closet before he comes over.

Saving the numbers in her phone, and hers in theirs, they said goodbye, and went their separate ways. It felt nice to have already made some friends. Not to mention one who she could take shopping with her, taking other girls could be such a hassle. Plus, Danny never would go shopping with her, so it was a new experience to have a gay friend who actually acted gay, flaming even.

Following the sidewalk, still on a mission for a warm pretzel, she sees her target. It's a small little kiosk with a sign that pronounces many different food choices, including hot pretzel and cheese. With a soft sound of excitement, not to mention a noise from her stomach, she walks up to the window and orders what she wants and as she pays, she hears her name.

She smiles to herself, must be one of the boys she just met, though the voice is not as deep as Chase's. It's obviously not Maxxie. What makes her frown though is that it sounds more like a question, like there is desperation behind the voice, almost as if it wasn't something they believed but wanted to dearly.

Turning she is floored by the person walking toward her, a huge cheese of a grin covering his face. She doesn't know what to feel. Though, the first that hits her is irritation; she came to get away from back home. The second that nearly swallows it is that it's so good to see a familiar face after the sea of blur that was the people around her. She was ecstatic yet angry that he was here.

To her dismay though, she couldn't stop the small smile from forming on her lips. Couldn't help but question his name back to him, obviously as unbelieving as him.

"Stiles?"

If you liked it, wonderful. If you didn't, that's cool too. I'll try to post a chapter a week. LOVE YAH!