Stiles walked through the station, ducking around an anxious deputy as he scurried back towards the front door. Stiles was grateful for the tight grip he kept on his dad's dinner, otherwise he would have dropped it an effort not to run right into the deputy.
He moved through the station, walking into his dad's office only to find him shrugging his bulky station jacket on. The sheriff looked up, catching sight of Stiles holding the huge brown paper bag of Chinese food. He shot his son an apologetic look, his tired eyes crinkling.
"Sorry kid," he told him. "Me and Parrish just got called out on a domestic dispute."
Stiles sighed. He knew the nature of his father's job and this had happened time and time again, but just because it was familiar didn't mean he wasn't going to complain about it.
"But I got you kung pao chicken," he whined. "Who else is gonna eat it?"
"Call Scott," the Sheriff suggested. "Lord knows that boy will eat anything."
Stiles sighed once more, setting the bag down on his father's desk. "I'll walk you out I guess."
"Don't look so upset," the Sheriff told him as they walked out of his office. "Most teenagers would rather be out with their friends than bring their father dinner on a Friday night."
"Well, I would have done that, but Scott is with Kira and Malia and Lydia are having a sleepover."
"Well it's good to know I was your first choice," his father said as he pushed open the station door. "Oh! You know, Y/n dropped dinner off to Parrish a few minutes ago. I know you two don't like each other very much but-"
"Dad," Stiles cut him off. "No. No way."
The sheriff held his hands up in surrender. "Alright, alright. Sorry I said anything."
The sheriff turned to leave, but before he could push open the door Stiles called out to him.
"Dad," Stiles said, stopping him from leaving and pulling him into a tight hug. "Be careful."
"I always am," he told Stiles. "And you too. If anything happens-anything with werewolves or kanimas or god knows what else, you call me okay?"
Stiles nodded, and with one last hug, his father was walking out the door. Stiles headed back towards the office, no doubt to dig in to the Chinese food when he heard a voice hiss his name. He looked around, but he couldn't see where the whisper had come from, and he half-believed he was imagining it.
"Stiles!" the voice hissed again, and before he could turn around, he was being grabbed by the back of his hoodie and pulled into the supply closet directly behind him.
"What the fu-"
He cut himself off as the white light of a cellphone flashlight illuminated the pitch black space around him. He looked down to see you grinning at him with bright eyes, your face sparkling with amusement.
"Hey," you grinned.
"Hey," he breathed, his own face lighting up too. "What were you doing in the closet?"
"Waiting for you to pass by so we could do this," you told him, grabbing the collar of his hoodie and pulling his lips down to yours.
His arm wrapped around your waist as he brought you closer, ignoring the musty smell of the closet you were in. He closed his eyes as your arms wrapped around his neck, but it wasn't like he could really see much to begin with.
"Wait," he whispered suddenly, pulling away from you for a brief second. "Why are we hiding if your brother just left?"
"Because if one of the other deputies sees us together, they'll tell Jordan," you told him. "That's why you said we shouldn't tell your dad either. We talked about this remember?"
Stiles sighed. "I know, but you know we can't keep this up forever. We can't keep pretending to hate each other, Y/n. Besides, what's the worst that could happen?"
"Stiles, do you remember what my brother said to you the first day I came into the station?"
"That I had a great sense of humor and rugged good looks?" he asked with a smirk.
"You know, I don't think anyone's ever said that about you," you deadpanned.
Stiles huffed. "Ok, I'll bite. What did Parrish say about me? Cause I've heard a lot of things but-"
"He told me to stay away from you because you were trouble," you told him.
Stiles shrugged indifferently. "I've heard much worse."
"We also had an agreement," you reminded him. "If I'm going to live with him, I need to focus on school and not boys. He can't know Stiles. He'd freak. He-he'd send me back to foster care-"
"Hey, hey, hey," Stiles told you, bringing his hands up and running them down your arms to try and stop your burgeoning hysterics. "He'd never let that happen. But I get it. We'll keep it from him."
You swallowed, leaning forward and burying your face in his neck.
"You're right," you admitted. "He's going to find out."
He sighed as he wrapped his arms around you, running a hand down your hair and pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Not if I can help it."
Two weeks later, you tied your hair up into a tight ponytail and tucked your shirt into your skirt as you slipped out of your bedroom. You shot a quick glance over your shoulder at your brother's bedroom door, hoping he would still be asleep. You grabbed your bag from the floor beside you and headed towards the front door, thinking you were safe. But as you heard him call out your name, you realized that wasn't the case.
"Y/n, wait!" he called, as he popped out of his bedroom.
You froze, feeling your heart thumping rapidly in your chest. You turned around. "Yeah?"
"I just wanted to talk to you for a second," Jordan told you. "I know you have to go to school but it'll only take a sec."
"Okay," you told him, giving him a false smile that you hoped he wouldn't see through.
"Where were you last night?" he asked. "I came home to grab a clean uniform and you weren't in your room."
"Oh, I was at Lydia's," you lied effortlessly. "I stayed late to go over some history notes. We've got a really big test today."
"Oh," you brother said, his face flooding with relief. "Good. I thought something was wrong."
"Nope," you told him. "I'm just trying to stay on top of my grades."
You flashed him a smile, just as relieved as he was. He smiled, bringing you closer to pull you into a tight hug. You felt bad for lying to him, but you knew there was no way he'd ever approve of you and Stiles. He was a great brother and a great guardian, but to say he was overprotective would be an understatement.
You frowned into his shoulder, hoping there would come a time when you wouldn't have to lie anymore.
You skidded through the station, nearly slipping on several pieces of paper strewn across the floor. You watched as deputies ran around the building, rushing in and out or hopping from phone to phone to answer the barrage of incoming calls.
The station was alive with the chaos of the officers and the 911 calls that just wouldn't seem to stop. You didn't know what the hell was going on, just that it seemed like Beacon Hills was finally going to succumb to all the hell that went on there.
Scott had called you ten minutes ago and begged you to go make sure your brother wasn't going off to steal more dead bodies, spouting all kinds of quick words about chimeras and something big happening. You hadn't understood most of it, but you did agree that you needed to make sure your brother was okay, so you had headed to the station.
As it turned out, Scott had been totally right and something big was happening. That much was evident from the chaos at the station, and your eyes darted from officer to officer, trying to spot your brother.
"Jordan!" you called out, moving forward only to be accidentally shouldered out of the way by another deputy. "Jordan!"
You heard the door to the station opening, and you shot a look over your shoulder, but it was only Hayden's sister, deputy Clarke. You sighed, turning back around only to have someone walk right into you.
Stiles, who had been looking over his shoulder for his dad at the same time you had been trying to find Jordan, blinked as he slammed into you.
"Woah," he exclaimed, reaching out to grab your shoulders before you could fall onto your ass. "Y/n?"
"Stiles?"
"What are you doing here?"
"Trying to find my brother," you told him. "What the hell is going on?"
"No idea," Stiles admitted. "Have you seen my dad?"
You shook your head. "Have you seen my brother?"
"No," Stiles told you, running a hand through his messy brown hair.
You bit the inside of your cheek, nervously peering around the station. "This is going to be bad isn't it?"
"Looks like it," he told you. "You need to get out of here though. You need to go home and lock yourself in your room and-"
"What?" you demanded. "Are you crazy? Whatever's going on, I'm going to help."
"You can't," Stiles told you. "You'll get hurt."
"Because I'm human?" you asked. "So are you."
Stiles huffed. "Y/n, what kind of boyfriend would I be if I let you get hurt?"
"A secret one," you told him. "You're not supposed to worry about me, remember? We're not even supposed to like each other."
"I don't care," Stiles told you.
"We can't," you told him. "You even said-"
Stiles shook his head, his eyes leaving yours for a split second as he resolved to do something he promised he would never do.
"Fuck what I said," he cut you off, grabbing your face and pulling you in for a kiss.
Your eyes widened as he kissed you right there in front of everyone. Even though people were running here and there, they still stopped to look at the spectacle that was the sheriff's son and the deputy's sister.
You were hesitant at first, but you realized that with all hell about to break loose, it was time to just give up and face your fears. You loved Stiles, and he loved you, and if either of you died that night, you didn't want that to be a secret.
His arms wound around your waist, trapping you against him as if he never wanted to let you go. You closed your eyes, melting into his arms just as a familiar voice cried out, "Y/n?!"
You and Stiles sprang apart just in time to see his father and your brother staring at you, slack-jawed. Your eyes widened at your brother's shocked face, and suddenly the fear was back.
Jordan walked over to you, arms crossed over his chest as he eyed you and Stiles. "You weren't studying with Lydia Sunday night were you?"
You bit your lip, shaking your head as Stiles slipped his hand into yours. He gave it a gentle squeeze, offering you what little comfort he could.
"And the other times?" Jordan asked. "You were with Stiles?"
"Some of them," you admitted. "I did actually study too."
"I...I don't understand," Jordan told you. "Why did you keep this a secret from me?"
You blinked, looking from Stiles to Jordan. "Because you told me no boys. And you told me Stiles wasn't good."
"Well, yeah," he admitted, shooting Stiles an apologetic look. "That was before I actually knew him though. I would have been okay with it, I mean Stiles is a good kid, just like you."
"But...you're not going to send me back?" you asked, absolutely stunned at your brother's acceptance.
"God, no," he exclaimed, his eyes widening. "I'd never do that to you, Y/n. No matter what you do, I'd never let you go again."
"So you're okay with this?" Stiles asked, his eyes widening at your brother.
"Absolutely," Jordan told him. "Provided you do realize that I'm a police officer who carries a gun, and if you hurt my sister I won't think twice before using it."
Stiles swallowed thickly at the sincerity in your brother's tone. "Duly noted."
Stiles looked over at his dad, who was just staring at you two in confusion. "I thought you two hated each other. You're always bickering."
"Like an old married couple," Jordan added, then he blinked, as if he had had an epiphany. "Ohhh. "
The sheriff sighed, squinting at you and Stiles and shaking his head softly.
"I'm too old for this," he muttered, walking down the hall and into his office. "Parrish!"
Jordan placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder, giving you one last smile before walking towards Stilinski's office. "Stay safe, okay?"
You nodded, watching him walk away and then turning back to Stiles. He was looking at you with raised eyebrows, his mischievous brown eyes staring into yours.
"Just say it," you told him with a roll of your eyes.
Stiles grinned. "I told you so!"
"Yeah, yeah," you grumbled. "You were right."
"Yep," he told you, leaning in for a kiss. "Cause I always am."
"Don't push your luck, Stilinksi," you told his, placing your hand on his cheek and turning his face away.
"Oh, please, Parrish," he told you. "Like I'd do anything else."
Stiles grinned as he tugged you closer, right into a kiss. You smiled against his lips, knowing he was trying to prove a point, but you had to admit that it felt good not to have to hide it anymore.