Sterek One Shots: Book Two

That One Time Deputy Stilinski Went To A Pride Festival

That One Time Deputy Stilinski Went To A Pride Festival (And Kissed The Organizer) by bravobeavo
*Happy December 10th*
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It's 3:45 P.M. on a Friday afternoon when they get the call. Not that they didn't have knowledge of the festival prior, they had just hoped that things wouldn't get out of hand. Beacon Hills was a fairly small town so when the college's LGBTQIA office came to the sheriff with the proposal of a small pride festival being held for the community college and high school students, John had been all for it. He was actually almost certain that if his 24 year old son, Stiles, hadn't been scheduled to work with him he would have attended himself; decked out in a rainbow brotank, neon red shorts, and dark aviators. As it is, though, Stiles is the one at the desk who answers the call and comes marching up to the sheriff's desk with a furious expression. Even in his deputy uniform, John can't help but flashback to the stubborn, hyperactive four year old who insisted that one day he'd fight "crime like his daddy".

"There are protestors from a local church at the pride festival." Stiles hissed, his eyes flashing as though it was an offense to him personally. John supposed it was, after all if anyone knew what it was like to be bullied for your sexuality it was Stiles. He'd struggled in high school, even with his best friend Scott by his side and one of the most popular boys in his class being gay, John knew that. But he supposed that paired with Stiles' overall geeky exterior (seriously, graphic t shirts, flannels, skinny jeans, and vans 24/7) students had viewed him as an easy target, regardless of his position on the lacrosse team and consistently impressive grades in multiple AP courses.

The joke was on them though, John knew that Stiles had pulled over a number of his former peers for speeding tickets since taking up position as deputy.

"How many?" John asked, pushing his chair back to stand and venture around the edge of his desk. Stiles shifted his weight from foot to foot anxiously.

"The woman on the phone, Laura, said twenty, maybe thirty? Enough to cause a disturbance, and I'm pretty sure she's the one who organized the thing so she sounded pretty irritated. I could hear shouting in the background." He muttered, amber eyes staring up at his father through his lashes. John sighed.

"Would you rather me call in Parrish to go with me?" He asked, flicking his son's badge as he walked past him to grab his coat. As he slipped it on he turned to see Stiles grinning at him.

"Hell no," his son exclaimed, bouncing on his heels, "Are you kidding me? Explaining to cynical bigots that homosexuals have the same basic human rights as they do is like my favorite past time, Dad. The faces they make!" He cut himself off with a delighted laugh.

John shook his head with a wry grin and left his office without a backwards glance, knowing that Stiles would be right on his heels. They went striding out of the station, Stiles giving the others a cheerful wave when they watched him with fond exasperation. Stiles slid into the passenger seat of John's cruiser with the grace of a giraffe causing John to duck his head to hide his chuckle. This was Beacon Hills' finest crime solver.

On the way to the festival which was being held in downtown Stiles proceeded to rant about a plethora of protests against pride events that had gone down in history for turning violent or disruptive. The sheriff scoffed, "Stiles, I doubt this is going to escalate beyond a shouting match. It's Beacon Hills, not New York City."

Stiles rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to protest, but closed it upon seeing the scene they were approaching. Central downtown had been blocked off due to the mirade of white tents lining the roads, themes running from making your own tie-dyed shirts to body art to chocolate funnel cakes with rainbow sprinkles. At first there was a small smile pulling at Stiles' lips, a wistful expression in seeing the number of teenagers and college students milling around the tents, clothes vibrant and arms sporting multiple rainbow bands.