Stiles stepped around his dad, trying to draw the man’s focus away from the jeep as anxiety twisted in his gut and he tried to discreetly wipe his clammy hands down his jeans.
“What’re you doing here?” his dad asked tiredly, with that expression that said he was just waiting for the bullshit that Stiles was going to give him.
“What do you mean what am I doing here? What? It’s a club. It’s a club, we’re clubbing, you know? At the club.” He bit his lip, trying to stop the nervous rambling.
His dad glanced back towards the club, watching the string of people still being escorted out, drag queens being shepherded by paramedics and men in very little clothing and body glitter being offered blankets and clothes. “It’s not exactly your type of club,” he said doubtfully and Stiles could feel his heart trying to hammer out of his chest.
It was more his type of club than his father thought.
But this isn’t exactly how he wanted to have that conversation.
“Uh- well, dad. There’s a-a conversation that we should probably have…” Stiles trailed off, his eyes fixed on the floor at his father’s feet, doing anything to not meet his father’s eyes.
“Stiles…” his dad said, his voice suddenly softer. “Stiles, look at me. You don’t have to do this now if you don’t want.”
Stiles' heart hurt with how fast it was beating and it took him a couple of attempts before he remembered how to speak. “No, I uh- I guess I should.” He risked a glance at his dad, who was watching him carefully, his face patient. His eyes darted back over to the group of drag queens who had tried to get him to dance earlier, they had been cleared by paramedics and police but they, and a group of other men had decided to wait around until after the cops left to make sure there was no trouble. “I’m not gay,” he blurted out, looking back to his dad in time to see the shock cross his face. “But I’m not straight either. I’m not- I don’t know. I just know I like women but I… I also like men and I’ve known for a while but I was-” Stiles cut himself off before he finished that sentence. But I was scared to tell you. I was scared to tell everyone.
He tugged on the ends of his sleeves, shifting from foot to foot with his eyes fixed on the floor. As he finally said the words, “I’m bisexual.”
Stiles breath hitched at the note of sadness in his dad’s voice and he couldn’t help but tense as a strong hand clamped down on his shoulder but it took him a second to see through his near panicking haze and realise that the hand wasn’t pushing him away, it was drawing him forwards, into his father's arms. His dad’s arms came around him, holding him close in a tight embrace.
“I love you,” his dad said, his voice rough and Stiles forced his arms to move, coming up to hug him back. “Thank you for telling me. Breathe, Stiles. You’re okay.”
Stiles let himself exhale, each breath shaky as he clutched the back of his dad’s jacket tightly, afraid that if he loosened his grip then his father would slip away.
“I love you too,” he managed, voice cracked with emotions. As he let the anxiety slip away, so did the heavy weight that had been pressing down on his chest for the past several years.
After a moment, he pulled away, looking up at his dad with a soft smile and his dad smiled back, his own eyes looking a little glassy.
He sniffed. “Don’t think we’re not gonna have a conversation about you sneaking into bars underage though,” he said, trying to sound firm but not quite managing it.
Stiles smiled. “I expect nothing else,” he said, not even caring if he was going to get a lecture on underage drinking later. He felt like he was floating, that it didn’t matter what his dad said to him now because Stiles was keeping one less secret and it felt amazing.
“Now go, get out of here,” his dad said, shooing him away. “I don’t wanna see you at any more crime scenes this week!”
Stiles smile widened, he gave a mock salute before turning back to the jeep, trying to dry his eyes on the bottoms of his sleeves before heading back to the next issue.
He climbed into the driver's seat and shut the door, watching as his dad moved the patrol car out of their way.
“Dude…” Scott said softly, his eyes fixed on Stiles and Stiles looked over at him, suddenly remembering the werewolf hearing and the fact that he’d yet to have that conversation with Scott.
Before Stiles could reply, Jackson gave a pained groan in the backseat and Stiles was forced back down to reality.