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“And what are your intentions with my son?”
If the human brain came with the spinning wheel of death, that was what Theo would be experiencing at this moment. Actually, if he was a sentient computer or not, he had that damned wheel hindering him from a quick rebuttal. Or any rebuttal would work in this case.
His relationship with the Sheriff’s son started off innocent, he swore. Soon after the chimera came back to Beacon Hills, both of them admitted to their childhood crushes one drunken night of playing truth or dare with the rest of the pack. Even then, it took many dates and lovey-dovey texts for Stiles to realize that Theo wasn’t pulling a cruel prank on his childhood best friend.
Despite the supernatural nature of their lives and Beacon Hills in general, they had a general senior year of high school romance. They went to both homecoming and prom. They did the normal dates: going to the movies, going to that one diner that Stiles loved.
After the dread doctors were defeated and Theo once again proved his innocence, his boyfriend invited him over to dinner at the Stilinski household. The young man had been there as a child an uncountable amount of times. The sheriff knew him practically as long as Stiles did. So it should have been easy, right?
…right?
Stiles' feet, which were warm from his who-knew-what-fandom socks, brushing against his own under the somewhat decorated dining room table brought him back to reality. He glanced down. At some point, his hands started holding the corner of a warm ceramic dish that was full of what appeared to be green bean casserole. From across the table, Stiles shot him a look of pity.
“Well. John, I—”
“Call me Mr. Stilinski.”
Theo did his best to gulp down his emotions from the brutal verbal takedown of someone he thought he could trust. Only instinct alone allowed him to take hold of the dish in front of him before John’s forearms started to tremble with age and use. In all of his eighteen years on this planet, never did Stiles’ father ask Theo to call him anything other than his given first name.
“Mr. Stilinski. I apologize,” he started out with, once again flicking his gaze to his boyfriend for confirmation or perhaps to find his resolve. Only when Stiles responded with a slight, discrete nod, did he dare to continue. “It’s not a question of my intention with your son.”
The immediate and sheer anger of the Sheriff almost stopped Theo in his tracks but he steeled himself. He dealt with murderous supernatural creatures. He dealt with dying and coming back to life. He could handle the father of his lover.
Even if he did have a gun that could fuck him up six ways from Sunday.
“It is a question of Stiles' intention for me. I will never push or pull further than what he will want. I am his to do with as he pleases. That’s all there is to it.”
The words flew off his tongue as if he prepared for it. Alas, he didn’t and he worried his silver words will fall short with Stiles’ last remaining parent. To say his life flashed before his eyes would be too arrogant but Theo was still human enough to admit that moments of his recent times with Stiles did stir up within his thoughts.
Much to the relief of everyone at the table, John’s tough look crumbled into a grin, coupled with wise wrinkles at his mouth and eyes from his knowing age. “No need to be so formal, son.”
Theo was almost certain that his boyfriend’s dad was messing with him but he didn’t want to take any chances. Nodding, he scooped a portion of the casserole onto his dinner plate next to the grilled chicken before passing the dish off to Stiles.
Very few people knew this about Theo but he hated green beans. Stiles was lucky that the poor chimera was in love with him and would do anything for him. Up to, and including, eating green beans. Everyone’s dinner plates were full of different foods and dinner went off without another hitch. It was homey, in a way. Sounds of light conversation, as well as scraping forks and knives, filled the room.
After the meal was completed, Theo grabbed the dirty plates and made his way into the kitchen to clean the dishes like the good boyfriend and houseguest he was. Well, maybe not the best houseguest. He couldn’t help but to eavesdrop on the conversation between the two Stilinski men as they moved into the living room.
“Did you really have to put on the tough guy act, dad? I know you like Theo! You always have—hell, you even liked him before you liked Scott,” Stiles said as the old couch squeaked from him flopping down. It was clear from his tone of voice that he was pouting.
Theo bit back a grin and fondly shook his head as he started to load the dishwasher. His boyfriend definitely knew that his supernatural ears would pick up on the conversation. Sometimes he was too clever. Far more clever than Theo was, anyways.
“He’s your first boyfriend. Or, at least, the first one you brought home. Of course, I had to pull his chain a little bit,” the Sheriff said with a chuckle. “It was worth it, too. He looked like he saw a ghost.”
Grinning wider, Theo finished with his self-assigned chore as he listened to the soft bickering carry throughout the family house. The place always felt more at home to him than any other place he had lived or even visited.
With the kitchen basically spotless it was time for Theo’s greatest scheme to date. While Stiles and his father were busy with setting up the table in the other room, he hid a six pack of heavy beers in the bottom drawer of the refrigerator. It was John’s favorite. And, if anyone asked, no he did not bribe a certain Deputy Parrish at the Beacon Hills Police Station for that information. Theo was a law abiding citizen, thank you very much.
He grabbed three of the dark glass bottles and easily shifted a fingernail into a sharp claw to open them. After throwing the caps away, he entered the living room. Seeing that both men were on opposite sides of the couch, Theo made himself comfortable between them as he distributed the beer.
“I knew I liked you for a reason, Theo,” John said with a fond smile, taking the drink.
“Yes, sir.”