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It was the first Saturday night that Deputy Parrish had had off in a long time, definitely the first since he joined the Beacon Hills force, and as a result of that, he wasn’t really sure what to do.
He knew that he wanted to go out, and he knew what sort of establishment he wanted to go to, but he did have some mild anxiety about being a law enforcer spotted at a local haunt known for being, well he might as well tell it like it is – a gay club.
In the end, he decided to stay near town, go to The Jungle, because going a few towns over might protect his sexuality for a little while longer, but at the end of the day, he wasn’t really shy about it – when asked, he was straightforward and honest, and with the youthful face he had, and the way he dressed when off the clock? Yeah, he got asked.
That was how, just after 10 PM, Deputy Kyle Parrish walked into The Jungle, all tight jeans, green eyes, and a t-shirt that managed to cling to his slim frame in all the right places. The local talent was, at once glance, interesting, to say the least. This town was full of beautiful people, it seemed, and the clientele at this specific establishment? No different, as it turned out.
He had only just approached the bar when a slightly older man sent him a drink, and not long after that, he was on the dance floor with the guy, showing off moves that he was only glad hadn’t gotten rusty. He danced and had a couple more drinks with the stranger before something far more interesting, and slightly confusing, caught his eye.
“Excuse me,” he said to the man, walking off. “Stiles?”
“Yeah, wha…oh, shit.” Stiles gulped, turning around to see his father’s newest deputy, standing in front of him, looking…supremely not like any kind of deputy Stiles had ever seen in the office.
Real talk, this was like “Deputy from a porno” material, not deputy from real life…but that didn’t mean he was in any less shit.
“What are you doing here? You’re 17,” Kyle asked, looking at the kid in shock. Not only was he 17, but this was his boss’s son. His boss’s teenaged son. This wasn’t going to go anywhere good, he was pretty sure of it.
“Shh, don’t say it so loud!” Stiles hissed.
“How did you even get in here?”
“Fake ID. Duh. Come on, weren’t you ever an unruly teenager?” He asked.
“Not…not really,” Kyle admitted. He came from a military family, grew up on a military base, went to military school. He had been all good manners and southern family values and virtues…until he’d come out at the age of 16, and his parents had stopped trusting him entirely. Even the time he had served in the military trying to win back their approval hadn’t been enough.
“So be an unruly adult a little!” Stiles goaded. “It’s okay every once in awhile, you know.” He moved a little closer, because hey, he was already in deep shit if this guy decided to rat him out, might as well go all. “I’m not drinking, I swear, and you’re not on duty, so you really don’t have to say anything to anyone…”
“Stiles, your dad’s my boss.” Kyle looked somewhere between vaguely annoyed, and vaguely intrigued by…whatever it was Stiles was proposing.
“Which is exactly why he is at the top of the list of people who definitely don’t ever have to know,” Stiles said with a wink. He reached out, hooking his fingers through the belt loops of Kyle’s jeans.
“Stiles, you can’t be here, you’re underage,” Kyle said, though he kept his voice down this time when he said it, trying to extract himself from Stiles at the same time.
“Dance with me,” Stiles insisted, completely ignoring Kyle’s qualms with the situation.
“I can’t.” Kyle pulled away. “Stiles, it’s not…I just can’t, it wouldn’t be proper, wouldn’t be decent.”
Stiles looked at Kyle for a second, brow furrowed, before leaning in, whispering in his ear.
“Haven’t you ever done anything that was just as much risk as reward?” He asked. “Something that you could get in trouble for, but something that would be so, so fun, or so interesting, or so good, that it would be worth it if you did?”
“And you think letting you get drunk at a gay club would be fun, interesting, and good enough for me to lose my job over?” Kyle asked.
“I didn’t say that,” Stiles said. “Besides, I already told you, I’m not drinking.”
“So what are you saying?” he asked.
“Dance with me, angel eyes,” Stiles said again, smirk in place on his face as he scanned over the young Deputy’s features.
“And if I do?” Kyle asked.
“You might find something fun, good, and interesting enough to risk getting in trouble over.” Stiles hooked his fingers through Kyle’s belt loops again, and this time, the man didn’t pull away.
Stiles started to move, trying to stay in time with the music, but dancing had never been his forte. It didn’t take Kyle long to take control of the situation, guiding Stiles’ body with the beat, his hands starting on Stiles’ waist, travelling downwards as he got more lost in the moment, and less focused on the black and white of it all. As they danced, all of that seemed to disappear. The right and wrong seemed to melt into one massive grey area.
Kyle had never been good with grey areas. He liked rules and guidelines, and doing things by the book. He wanted to be the best that he could be, and he had always thought that meant following the rules. It had been such a problem for him when he had first started to realize who he was – attracted to other men, disenchanted by the idea of the army, etc. Now? Right now, in this moment, with this boy, grey areas didn’t seem to be so bad. At all.
Kyle was pulled from his blissful moment when Stiles leaned in, pressing his lips against those of the young deputy. His gut instinct was to pull away. This wasn’t a good idea – this was his boss’s teenage son, for god’s sake…and yet there was something so grown up, so manly about Stiles, something so fucking alluring that he had managed not to notice before, or maybe something he’d just repressed.
“Not here,” Kyle whispered, pulling away, but not far.
“Where, then?” Stiles asked.
“My place,” Kyle offered.
“I’ll drive.” Stiles grabbed his hand, tugging him from the club.
The closer they got to his place, the farther they got from the club, from his own car, the more Kyle worried that this was a bad idea. This, boy, this kid, this…young man who seemed so confident in that club, in a way Kyle had never seen him act before, was pulling him so far out of his comfort zone that a part of him felt it would be safer to jump from the still-moving jeep, but it was as though, in that moment, Stiles sensed Kyle’s nerves. The teen reached over, saying nothing, just placing one hand on Kyle’s knee. He kept the other hand on the steering wheel, his eyes straight ahead, focused on the road, but the hand on his knee told Kyle everything that he needed to know right now.
He could trust Stiles, and whatever happened, it was going to be fun, good, and interesting.