#stoid

The guy with the bibles on the quad has cornered me and is screaming about hell, please rescue me. (Stoid)

Stiles must have angered the gods in some way. Like, seriously.

  He was already late for his first class in the afternoon, pratically hadn’t slept in three days and had not found a torrent for the new episode of his favorite series. All pretty serious things and fuck who though they weren't. But it wasn’t enough that all this shit was happening, nope. The universe had to mock him some more. This morning he'd decided to put on his favorite Spirk t-shirt and really skinny light blue jeans, totally forgetting he would cross paths with the crazy bible guys.

The worst was that it was the only way to the lecture hall, getting through to them. There was this small space between two buildings that seemed to be perfect for evading the bulk of the horde, and he was in the middle of his path when, out of the fucking dark nowhere, one of them appeared. He was dressed in those buttons up shirts, with a scary angry face and a bible under his arm.

The worst was that the guy actually grabbed his arm, his grip tight enough to bruise.

“What do you think you are doing?! This shirt is offensive, this is a place of study and family! This shirt of yours is completely out of line.”

“Guy, let go of me.” He tried to move his arm from the guy’s grip, but he wouldn’t let go.

“There is salvation for you, still. You can give up of your inner demons for a greater good, I don’t want you to end up in hell. I can bring you into the light.”

He gulped. Now this was starting to get creepy. This guy was not at all one of those easy going Catholics that he could sass out of his way. He actually looked completely mad, like he could kill someone.

“No, thanks.”

“How can you not want it? This is your salvation. You’re going to hell if you continue like this. What you are doing is a sin! It’s unnatural! You and the likes of you are curses upon this land. You’re going to bring America down to hell with you, you fags! I should beat this gay out of you.” He was starting to push Stiles against the wall, seeming like he would punch the fuck out of him. What the fuck was his problem.

Stiles closed his eyes, ready for the blow, but before anything else happened a voice surprised them both.

“Honey, what is that fucker saying?”

He opened his eyes to stare at a tall, black, strong man, wearing a wife beater, jeans and combat boots. There was something in the back of his mind that said this guy was know, like he was in some of his lectures or something. Anyway, this was perfect, he had never been happier to see someone. The church guy stopped moving, blinking a few times, and Stiles could barely contain his relief, replying as steadly as he managed.

“He said I’m going to burn in hell, that he’ll beat the gay out of me."

The tall man moved closer, his expression somewhat surprised and ironic. “Is he?”

Stiles decided to play along, giving the guy that was still holding him a sarcastic look.

“He says that us fags are gonna ruin America and bring them all down with us.”

The man grabbed his attacker wrist, pushing him back and speaking rather calmly.

“Never touch him, or anyone, again without their permission. Understood? Or maybe a fag can come and beat the shit out of you.”

The bible guy nodded and ran away as fast as he could. As soon as he was out of sight, Stiles hugged the shit of the awesome mostly stranger. The guy was muscled and warm, and Stiles enjoyed it maybe a little too much.

“Man, just- thank you. Like thank you so fucking much. I don’t know what he was going do to me.”

He felt the rumble of an almost laugh on the guy's chest, a big hand patting his back a few times. “I couldn’t leave a fellow Trekker in trouble.”

Wow, Stiles was going to kiss this man, like right fucking now. He took a step back instead, though, a bit embarrassed of how he had just acted. Scratching the back of his head, he looked down.

“Sorry, got too grabby. It’s just so rare to find someone actually nice around here, that likes Star Trek and stands for other people and stuff.”

The guy smiled, and gosh, his smile was perfect. It could probably light up a building.

“It’s okay. I’m Boyd, and I believe both of us have a forensic psychology class to attend right now.”

“Yes! Yeah, we do. But first, I got to ask something very important.”

Boyd frowned, still smiling. “And what would that be?”