Fic: Cupid Amok (Teen Wolf, slight Scott/Stiles, humor, G, drabble)
"Dad," Stiles says, barreling into the Sheriff's office and slamming the door shut behind him so the blinds sway dangerously and get caught in his hoodie, "you've gotta hide me!"
Stilinski carefully sets down his turkey burger - with special sauce, calories be damned - and rolls his eyes at his son's over dramatic entrance. "Why? Who are you hiding from? You know, I've had a few interesting calls from your geography teacher this semester."
Stiles stops short, one brow quirked as he replies, "I'm not taking geography." Before Stilinski can ask if that's why he's getting phone calls about Stiles' grade, the boy waves him off and continues, "No. Whatever. Not important. You need to do something! Lock me in a cell if need be, please!"
"Son," Stilinski begins, picking up his (diet) soda and taking a swig before he continues. "Who, exactly are you hiding from?"
"Scott!" Stiles cries, looking through the blinds and then gasping as he drops below the window and braces himself with his back against the door.
Stilinski scoots forward in his chair so he can look over his desk and meet his son's eyes. "And why are you hiding from your best friend?"
Huffing for a moment, it looks like Stiles is coming up with a lie, but then his shoulders slump like he's giving in and about to tell the truth. The truth is mumbled, but as best Stilinski can guess, his son admits, "Because he thinks he's in love with me and keeps trying to make out."
Rolling his eyes and digging a piece of lettuce out of the corner of his mouth with his tongue, Stilinski asks, "I thought you were gay now?"
Okay, maybe he just said that to get his son to make that indignant sound of protest, but it was completely worth it. Stiles splutters for a moment and says, "Bi, Dad! We had a talk about this!"
"Oh, I thought that maybe you were just coming out in stages. You know, easing into the lifesty-"
"And besides," Stiles continues, ignoring his father's wisdom like always, "Scott is like my brother! Making out with him would be beyond gross!"
Stilinski shrugs. He can see that. Besides, if Scott and Stiles were actually a couple and actually stayed together for a long time, the sheriff would have to see Melissa McCall at family functions and that would be beyond awkward after that one night he tries not to think about more than once a week.
Squinting at Stiles, the sheriff asks, "Is this one of those things where I should just mind my own business, not ask any questions, and hope it goes away before someone gets hurt?"
"NO!" Stiles stands up, flailing as usual, and attracts the attention of a figure walking past outside. Stilinski watches as his son turns around slowly just in time to see Scott opening the office door.
"Hi, Scott!" the sheriff calls with a friendly wave.
"Hi, Sheriff!" Scott replies before turning his, admittedly heated, gaze on Stiles. "There you are! I've been looking for you everywhere!"
"Scott," Stiles says, his hands up in a defensive position, which doesn't seem to help much when Scott grabs Stiles by the collar and starts dragging him away. "No! Scott, let me go! Not that you're unattractive or anything, but I don't want to be your love slave! Dad! Help!"
Stilinski sighs, wipes his mouth with one of the paper napkins included with his meal, and hits the intercom button up to the front desk. "Yeah, Marie? We're gonna need a few tasers ready to go in a minute here. Thanks." Sheriff Stilinski isn't quite sure what's been in the Beacon Hills water lately, but things have certainly been interesting. If that's the right word. Maybe he's thinking of "tiring." Yeah, that sounds more like it.
Stilinski carefully sets down his turkey burger - with special sauce, calories be damned - and rolls his eyes at his son's over dramatic entrance. "Why? Who are you hiding from? You know, I've had a few interesting calls from your geography teacher this semester."
Stiles stops short, one brow quirked as he replies, "I'm not taking geography." Before Stilinski can ask if that's why he's getting phone calls about Stiles' grade, the boy waves him off and continues, "No. Whatever. Not important. You need to do something! Lock me in a cell if need be, please!"
"Son," Stilinski begins, picking up his (diet) soda and taking a swig before he continues. "Who, exactly are you hiding from?"
"Scott!" Stiles cries, looking through the blinds and then gasping as he drops below the window and braces himself with his back against the door.
Stilinski scoots forward in his chair so he can look over his desk and meet his son's eyes. "And why are you hiding from your best friend?"
Huffing for a moment, it looks like Stiles is coming up with a lie, but then his shoulders slump like he's giving in and about to tell the truth. The truth is mumbled, but as best Stilinski can guess, his son admits, "Because he thinks he's in love with me and keeps trying to make out."
Rolling his eyes and digging a piece of lettuce out of the corner of his mouth with his tongue, Stilinski asks, "I thought you were gay now?"
Okay, maybe he just said that to get his son to make that indignant sound of protest, but it was completely worth it. Stiles splutters for a moment and says, "Bi, Dad! We had a talk about this!"
"Oh, I thought that maybe you were just coming out in stages. You know, easing into the lifesty-"
"And besides," Stiles continues, ignoring his father's wisdom like always, "Scott is like my brother! Making out with him would be beyond gross!"
Stilinski shrugs. He can see that. Besides, if Scott and Stiles were actually a couple and actually stayed together for a long time, the sheriff would have to see Melissa McCall at family functions and that would be beyond awkward after that one night he tries not to think about more than once a week.
Squinting at Stiles, the sheriff asks, "Is this one of those things where I should just mind my own business, not ask any questions, and hope it goes away before someone gets hurt?"
"NO!" Stiles stands up, flailing as usual, and attracts the attention of a figure walking past outside. Stilinski watches as his son turns around slowly just in time to see Scott opening the office door.
"Hi, Scott!" the sheriff calls with a friendly wave.
"Hi, Sheriff!" Scott replies before turning his, admittedly heated, gaze on Stiles. "There you are! I've been looking for you everywhere!"
"Scott," Stiles says, his hands up in a defensive position, which doesn't seem to help much when Scott grabs Stiles by the collar and starts dragging him away. "No! Scott, let me go! Not that you're unattractive or anything, but I don't want to be your love slave! Dad! Help!"
Stilinski sighs, wipes his mouth with one of the paper napkins included with his meal, and hits the intercom button up to the front desk. "Yeah, Marie? We're gonna need a few tasers ready to go in a minute here. Thanks." Sheriff Stilinski isn't quite sure what's been in the Beacon Hills water lately, but things have certainly been interesting. If that's the right word. Maybe he's thinking of "tiring." Yeah, that sounds more like it.