How many times have you heard people saying to their kids to be different, to be special? Well Stiles himself heard it quite a lot. Not from his parents, no; his mom always told him that he WAS special, so he had never felt the need to focus on this when growing up.

Only in college did he realize how different he was. Don't get him wrong, he'd seen it in high school already when his ADHD and special (this word again) sense of humor drove most of the people away from him. He wasn't a loner, though, because soon enough he'd found Scott, a goofy boy with asthma and a huge heart. They had become inseparable, spending almost every waking moment together. It had been only just the two of them, but it meant that they weren't alone. Stiles felt like he belonged.

Since they were teenage boys and there was nothing better than being part of a group, which they couldn't get friends-wise, they joined some sports club. Scott played lacrosse, and over the years he got his asthma under control and that meant that there were a few games where he could play first line.

Stiles himself wasn't a fan of getting knocked over all the time, but liked to enjoy being alone, so it seemed obvious that he chose cross country. And he got better and better, became the school's #1 athlete and this inevitably lead to a sports scholarship.

When graduation came, and he wouldn't tell this to Scott, he was really freaked out and had several small panic attacks because he knew that it could very well mean the end of his friendship with Scott. He would need to go to college alone, make friends or spend his years either on the field running, or in his room playing video games, browsing Wikipedia articles or reading sci-fi novels.

It came as a sweet surprise, then, when Scott told him that he had found a vet program at the same college as Stiles chose for his studies. Because yes, he went there to study, his sports scholarship was the added bonus.

~o~

When the first day of school came, they were ready. They moved in their dorm room the night before, Stiles' dad and Scott's mom helping them, loading the fridge full with Tupperware boxes, and telling them to try and stay alive before their next weekend home.

The orientation day was hectic, and Stiles fell in love right away. Compared to Beacon Hills, this place was chaotic and alive. In the following months Stiles became the star of the track and field team as a long-distance runner, scoring most wins of the trimester. Some people called him a jock, although in his mind, he was nothing like them, all skinny and lean. But the title stayed and he needed to act accordingly. It was helped by the fact that he had so many different trainings that he barely had time to study, so his grades were dropping a little. He was still way above the minimum he needed to get to keep his scholarship, but it hurt a little. He always prided himself in having managed doing sports and getting good grades. But here in college people didn't seem to mind it, they thought Stiles was studying way too much, he shouldn't spend so much time reading, because it totally wasn't worth it. So yeah, once again, he was different.

With being on the team came new friends, if you can call them that, and Stiles found himself in a gang of jocks. Scott, who joined the lacrosse team here, too, was a part of that, of course, which made things a lot easier. Because pretending to be a jock was a hard job; talking about nothing but sport - and he couldn't even talk about long-distance running, think about it, what can you say, "do you remember Kenenisa Bekele's amazing footwork"? No, you can't, so he needed to start paying attention to other sports, like baseball, rugby, basketball. It was a lot of work, playing this role but he knew that he needed to do it to keep alive. College was brutal, some said, and he knew it was true when he saw poor Greenberg, mathlete of the year, eating alone next to the dumpsters.

So he played along, and got some jock friends. Or buddies, because his only friend was Scott. Scott, who became a ladies' man himself, using his charm to flirt with everyone. But his eyes were set on one girl only, art major Kira Yukimura, who won Scott's heart with refusing his advances three times. Scott loved a good challenge and Kira definitely was one. Stiles adored them both.

But back to the jocks, he inevitably became a member of Jackson Whittemore's entourage. Star swimmer and giant jackass Jackson Whittemore who was your typical jock. Stiles kind of felt it his mission to be there with him and keep him away from bullying other kids. Thank God for Jackson's other friend, Danny Mahealani, light-weight wrestler, who agreed with him on this and together they managed to keep other students' lives bullying-free. "It was one thing to be the king of the college but you don't need to be a jerk about it" was Stiles' motto.

After a few weeks, girls and boys started to pay attention to him. He was flattered, really, but deep down he knew he was waiting for something… a little more. Casual was okay, but he didn't want to date any of them. This, of course, added another layer to his jock persona. He became a trophy people wanted to get, so they could brag that they had slept with Stiles. He always chose carefully, though; never when the other person or himself were too drunk, never someone who was in a relationship, and never freshman. Because of these precautions, he could stay friends with all of his one night stands and this was something Jackson couldn't tell himself. It was no surprise to anyone when people started to hit on him instead of Jackson and he became the "hottest stud" of the college. Nobody needed to know, though, that he only made out with most of them, and had only slept with Jackie and Dave.

It was one of those frat parties with red solo cups and endless amount of beer where they first discussed their sex lives. Man, was it awkward... They were tipsy, steadily heading towards drunk, when Danny suddenly burst out laughing at one of Stiles' dirty jokes, leaned on his shoulders and whispered in his ear.

"I was in a threesome last night. It was my first."

After that they talked about their experiences (Stiles 'forgot' to tell them that less than half of the stories about him are true) and fantasies, which slowly turned into rather obscene the more beer they had. Of course, Jackson was the one to put the icing on the cake with his proposal.

"Stilinski, ya know what a good head's like, yeah?"

"Fuck yeah, I do," Stiles said (okay, he shouted; he was drunk, so sue him).

"Why you askin', Jack, you don't? D'ya want my help?" Danny grinned at Jackson with half-closed eyes, dimples and a tongue peeping out of his mouth to wet his lips.

"Geez, Danny, no. But have you heard about 'Head-onist'?"

"Jackson, get the fuck out, we're way too drunk to discuss philosophy here, man," Stiles groaned as he shoved Jackson in the shoulder.

"No, you meathead, it's a bar like 20 miles away. A gay bar," Whittemore said with a smirk on his lips. At least that's what it looked like to Stiles; with Jackson you can never know, his default expression was like the one the Cheshire Cat had.

"OH!" came from Danny who seemed to have an epiphany started giggling/snorting until he had tears in his eyes.

"What is it? Spill the bean, Whittemore!" came Scott's impatient reply.

"It's a gay bar, McCall."

"I AM GOING TO CHOKE YOU TO DEATH," yelled Stiles as he grabbed Jackson by the collar and started shaking him.

"Jesus fuck, Stilinski, calm your fucking tits down!" He yelled back and tried to peel Stiles off of himself. Danny tried to help him, making sawing motions with his hands where Stiles had Jackson's collar in a dead lock.

"You are so fucking immature, the both of you, geez," Scott murmured as he dragged Stiles back into a sitting position. "So you were saying…?" he prompted and turned puppy eyes on Jackson.

"There is this rumor that there's a glory hole and every Thursday there's this guy who gives the best head in the state," Danny mumbled as he turned red like a fire truck.

All of them paused and stared at Danny, which made him even more uncomfortable as he started fiddling with his phone and stared at his hands.

And then they burst out laughing.

"OH MY GOD, DANNY," started Stiles, but Jackson's yell drowned out his.

"WHEN DID YOU GO?! YOU TOLD ME YOU WOULD TELL ME."

"He WHAT?! YOU knew HE WANTED TO GO?!" Scott was wheezing he was laughing so hard, blurting out the words between noisy inhalations.

"DANNY BOOOOOOOOY GOT SOME GREAT HEAD! LOOK HOW HARD HE IS BLUSHING." Stiles was already on his feet at this point, standing in front of Danny and shouting at him at the top of his lungs. "FUCK, HOW hard. HAHA, DANNY I BET YOU WERE HARD BACK THEN, TOO." And he was just cackling, yelling and pointing fingers at Danny.

"SIT THE FUCK DOWN, STILES!" cried Danny and glared at Stiles, which effectively made his laugh immediately die out. Stiles folded himself back on the couch between Danny and Scott, Jackson staring dagger at him from the other side of Danny.

"It was just this one time, after Ethan broke up with me, okay? I was drunk and I went to the bathroom and he was in there, giving someone a blowjob. And the other guy was moaning and loud and it was hot, okay? So when he left the stall, I went in. He didn't say anything, just tapped the hole with his finger and I just did it." Danny was speaking fast and in a hushed voiced, so they all huddled closer to him.

"Was he any good?" Jackson asked, of course.

Danny's stupid grin was answer enough.

"Man, I wish there were guys –or girls– like that on this campus. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy that people are so enthusiastic about giving head at parties but… I don't know. They're okay, but it's just not… the right way…?" Stiles lamented.

"Sweet Lord, when did you turn into such a huge sap, Stilinski? Don't drink beer because it makes you stupid."

"Shut up, Jack-ass," came Scott's chivalrous retort. He, of course, knew about Stiles' real track record and understood his problems. Well, not really, since all the girls he had been with were quite good at giving head and Kira… let's just say she was a quick study and an enthusiastic student.

"Maybe you should try it," Danny proposed, deep understanding and an almost unworldly look on his face.

"Haha, yeah, as if…" Jackson snorted. "He has a different person for every day of the week, why would he choose a blowjob over some hot sex?" Stiles had to hide his smile; Whittemore sounded quite offended at that. He didn't take it that well that his #1 hot guy status had changed.

"He just said that he wants something else," Danny, the voice of reason countered. Stiles kind of wanted to kiss him for that, he always knew what was happening. And, well, Stiles was kind of drunk.

"Pft, bullshit," Jackson yelled. "There's no such thing. A head is a head. Period."

"If you say that, maybe it's you who should go," Scott chimed in.

"Ooooooh, burn!" Stiles laughed as he patted Scott's back. Man, he loved his bro.

"This isn't about me, here," Jackson said, ears going red. "Fifty bucks says he won't do it."

That made Stiles' hand on Scott back still and he just sat there in disbelief. These were his friends. Betting on his sex life. When did his life turn into this?

"Sixty says that he goes and he'll like it," Danny smirked at Jackson. It was kind of scary, to be honest, way too confident.

"Well, of course he'll like it, it's a head. The question is: will his whole life change because of it?" Scott's smile was so huge, it almost split his face in two. Danny winked at Stiles, then. He winked.

"Don't be stupid, McCall, that's impossible," Jackson was looking at the two of them with disdain.

Stiles was just sitting there, thinking about it. To be honest, it's been a while since he last had sex and it wasn't really good. No matter how hard he tried to guide Dave through it, he just couldn't do it the way Stiles liked; so Stiles flipped him on his stomach and fucked him instead. The other thing was, that he had to agree with Jackson; there's no such thing as a life altering blowjob. It's ridiculous. It's just some mouth-to-dick action, that can't be so different. Okay, so he was really interested and he wanted to try it. It would also mean that Jackson would lose the bet, and that wouldn't hurt, either.

"So what do you say, Stiles?" Scott asked, looking at him, curious and a little too self-assured.

"I can totally go there with you, you know," Danny offered and Stiles had to laugh at that, because really, why was he even surprised. He grinned at him and bumped their shoulders.

"I think we really have to see that together," Stiles smiled at them and leant back on the couch, putting his arms on the backrest. "I hope you don't have any plans for Thursday," he said, all serious, and winked at Jackson, who groaned, while Scott and Danny shared a cheeky grin.