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“I have eyes on him,” Tendo Choi said over the comms. “We have positive ID match.” Facial recognition software brought up the match of one Charles Alexander Hansen. Student visa, Graduate Student – Stanford University. Twenty-one years old, originally from Sydney, Australia. Father was listed as active-duty ASAS, much of the record blacked out “How does a kid so young already have a Masters and working on a second one?”
“Quiet,” hissed Yancy Becket, Special Agent in Charge of this inquiry. The live feed showed a kid wearing glasses, jeans, rolled up sleeves, and a vest. He had a messenger bag and a travel mug in his hand. He looked over the notes. “He’s heading to his lacrosse practice.”
Two hours later the kid was on his way to his lab. Yancy got out of the van and took a walk. “I’ll approach.”
Charles Hansen, Chuck to those familiar with him because there was no one who could be called close other than his two blood relatives, swiped his access card and went to his lab. “Bloody wankers.” His arm hurt from where he’d been hit by one of his teammates. Turning the lights on, Chuck got his area up and running.
Five minutes later he looked up to see some handsome blond seppo walking over to him. “Can I help you, mate? This is a private area.”
Yancy grinned, “Special Agent Yancy Becket, FBI.”
“That’s nice,” Chuck said as he kept typing away. “Mate, you are obviously here for a reason. What is it?” He didn’t normally have much interaction with people. He knew he wasn’t socialized that way. Just part of a running list he kept in his head.
Yancy walked around the lab and saw all kinds of different models and schematics. The kid was a genius. That much was evident. “I need to talk to you, on the record, about your uncle.”
“Oi, what has that wanker done this time?” Chuck looked up with a harsh frown. He pushed his glasses up. He was too tired to wear contacts today.
“I’d like this to be an on the record. Do you mind coming into the office for an interview?” Yancy asked as he looked around. The door opened and Tendo walked in with two other agents.
Chuck frowned. “I have deadlines and such, so how long is this ‘interview’ going to take?”
Tendo walked over and shrugged, “Depends on what you know?”
Grabbing his messenger bag, Chuck started packing stuff back up. “Let’s go so we can get this over with. I’ll text my advisor that something family oriented came up.” It would be a first in the entire time he’d been at Stanford.
Sitting in the interview room, Chuck frowned. At least they refilled his travel mug though their coffee sucked. “Mate, can we get this going? I have stuff to get done and a game tomorrow as well.” He hoped that their season would end on a winning note. This was his last year of eligibility.
Tendo looked at Yancy. “You are here on a student visa. Failure to cooperate can lead it to being revoked.”
“Oi! I came here already, the fuck you want now?” Chuck fumed. “Ask your bloody questions about that bloody wanker.”
Yancy fought to keep the grin off his face. The kid was feisty as hell. He motioned to Tendo again.
“When was the last time you spoke to your uncle?” Tendo started. “That would include electronic communication.”
Sitting back in the shitty metal chair, Chuck frowned. “Can I look at my phone? He lives in Hong Kong now and I haven’t been there since I was twelve. I left Sydney when I was fourteen and was with dad in London and Cairo before I came to Stanford.
“Twelve is when I last saw him in person and he moved in with that Hannibal Chau fellow,” Chuck said. He started looking through his phone. “We traded emails five months ago. He wired me some money. He’s an investment banker for HSBC.”
The agents traded looks. “We know that. He’s missing and Chau is as well. There is some potential illegal activity that’s come to our attention.” Yancy frowned at the smirk on Chuck’s face. “What’s that look?”
“My uncle is shady as fuck. The money is clean, but he’d be at home in the opium trade of old.” Chuck shrugged. “I know there is a trust fund for me when I hit twenty-five, he told me when I was fourteen and ready to run away because my dad is a bloody wanker.”
Both agents sat back at the vehemence. Tendo motioned for Chuck to continue.
“My mum died when I was eight. By the time I was ten I was being hauled all across the globe. I was finally going to get settled in Sydney with dad about to retire when he up and moved us to London.” Chuck willed his hands to stop being fists. “I talk to Scott more than I do my dad. And as I showed you, that’s not often.”
Tendo cleared his throat. “Your dad is Australian SAS?”
“Bloody Black Ops, mate. Fuckin ghost.” Chuck shrugged. “He taught me all kinds of shite, but I prefer to build and design things. As you saw.” His dad’s lessons weren’t the type he’d wish on anyone else. Another part of the list.
The agents looked at each other. Yancy stepped out for a few seconds and came right back in. “Thank you, Mr. Hansen. We’ll be in contact if we need to follow up.” Yancy handed Chuck a business card. “Let us know if you hear from either Chau or your uncle.”
Chuck got his stuff and headed for the door. “You arseholes brought me here, how am I getting back to campus?”
“Get an Uber,” Tendo said with a ‘sorry, not sorry’ grin on his face.
“Fuckin wankers!” Chuck grunted as he walked away. He yanked out his phone to get a ride back to campus. “Bloody useless seppos.”
Yancy and Tendo walked into the viewing room where the Gage twins were watching. “And?” Yancy asked. There was something about the kid that made him take notice.
“He’s a brilliant asshole with a bright future. He gets his second Masters in a month. He’s heading to Lightcap’s company. Tech work visa is already processed by them,” came from one of the twins. “He’s about to make a lot of money right out of the gate.”
The other added, “His dad got married to a British Intel senior official last year. The boy got an invitation and didn’t go.”
Tendo pulled up Herc Hansen’s dossier. “Who did he marry?”
One of the twins pulled up a picture they found. “Stacker Pentecost of MI6. He’s the fourth ranking person there.”
“His stepdad is a high-ranking spook and the dad is a ghost,” Tendo frowned as he thought about it. “Is he homophobic as to why he didn’t go?”
The Gage’s pulled up Chuck’s social media and it was all engineering and robotics related. “The kid is a serious nerd. No mentions of friends, some lacrosse pictures, some martial arts training, a few of a dog from childhood, and no pictures of family or dating references.”
Yancy motioned for them to go back to their area. As he walked, he frowned and pointed to Tendo. “Get his financials, he mentioned a trust fund waiting for him. And find out how his mother died.”
One of the Gages paused, “We are looking for his uncle, why would we look into him?”
“Even the kid said he thought his uncle was shady, but something doesn’t feel right. Wait,” something hit Yancy out of the blue. “Stacker Pentecost, see what is there. He’s Scott’s brother-in-law now. Might be a link.”
Tendo pulled up the official bio and found it, “We have his bio up. Has an adopted daughter and she is studying at Oxford. Where your brother was for two years.”
“What’s her name?” Yancy had a feeling this was not going to be good.
“Mako Mori,” came from one of the Gages.
“Raleigh knew her. I’ll text him later.” He sighed and made his way to his desk. The universe never failed to amuse itself.
Yancy watched the lacrosse match with some actual interest. It was Saturday and he was technically off duty, but he was fascinated by the kid. Stanford won and the kid was good, scored three goals by Yancy’s count.
He lingered where he could grab Chuck on the way out.
“Saw you in the stands, mate. What now?” Chuck groaned as he limped out of the stadium. “Hard to blend in when there are only two dozen fans watching.”
“You’re hurt?” Yancy moved closer. “You seemed fine on the field.”
“Turned my ankle and played on. Hurts like a bitch now.” Chuck sighed and then looked at Yancy. “Look, mate, I’ll tell you anything you want if you give me a lift to my apartment. I don’t feel like limping a mile.”
“I can do that.” Yancy grabbed Chuck’s ‘kit’ as he called it and took him to his car. “Just so you know, this is all off the record.”
They didn’t say much until they got to Chuck’s apartment. Yancy helped him up the stairs and wasn’t shocked to find it military neat. Lots of books, a few plants, and a nice TV. He spotted the PS5 and grinned. “So, you are a normal college kid.” That was good to know.
Chuck shrugged. He limped to his bedroom and came out two minutes later in loose shorts and a Stanford lacrosse t-shirt. “Alright, Agent Becket, what?”
“Why did you miss your dad’s wedding?” Yancy wanted to know something about the kid’s character.
“The bloody arsehole scheduled it the week before finals. There was no way to get to London and back without crashing all my classes. He knew that!” It still pissed Chuck off that his cunt of a father could go around saying his son missed his wedding when he bloody planned it that way! Yet another piece for the list.
“Okay, was just curious. What else about your uncle?” Yancy saw a few photos on the wall and spotted one of the missing Scott and Chuck’s dad, Herc. There were a few of Chuck and either the uncle or father. But there were mostly pictures of Chuck and a dog.
“Max. Dad got him for me a year after mum died. He passed right before I came to Stanford. I’d get another one, but it wouldn’t be fair to him being locked in here for hours at a time.” Chuck sighed as he started wrapping his ankle.
Yancy moved over and took the ace bandage away. “I had to triage my younger siblings all the time. Raleigh was a walking accident. How he’s in construction now, I don’t know.”
It was rare for Chuck to have anyone help him. He didn’t know what to do other than say, “Thanks.” He leaned back. “Chau handled rare items, antiques out of China and Vietnam. Was in commercial real estate in Hong Kong for a few years, but I know he sold off his properties not long ago.”
“Do you know how wealthy your uncle is?” Yancy was curious how much Chuck knew.
“Not really. I asked for money and he sent me over a hundred grand, American. I only needed five thousand to cover expenses my grants wouldn’t.” Chuck shrugged. “Dad got some kind of settlement from mum’s death and selling the house in Sydney. Still pissed about that.”
“My mom died when I was eighteen. Dad bugged out the day after the funeral. I was left trying to pick up the pieces and only an aunt here offered to help. Jaz hated it and then loved it. Raleigh adapted. I went to the Air Force.” Yancy looked at Chuck and shrugged. “I get the shitty family thing.”
Chuck reached over and placed a hand on Yancy’s shoulder. “Thanks, mate. When I got here, my faculty advisor heard some of what I went through and knew I was sixteen. They made me go to therapy. It wasn’t fun.
“Still not sure it helped, but at least I know why I’m the way I am. Just not sure I want people around me.” Chuck’s life was total chaos since his mum died. Only his education was allowed to be a priority. Therapy made him sort out a list of issues he had with his father. Some wouldn’t make it on there, too private.
Yancy understood. He really did. “Thanks for the chat. Really, call me if you find out anything.” He left and he paused outside the door. It was so unprofessional what he was feeling. The case came first. But a brilliant, handsome, built asshole, that was deeply vulnerable under all the gruff exterior, had hit every button Yancy Becket ever had.
It was the middle of the night and the banging on the door, finally woke Chuck up. He pulled on some sleep pants and opened it.
“About damned time, Chuck!”
Groaning, Chuck looked at the time. “It’s fuckin 3 am you rotten sod. The fuck you doing here?” He moved back and let his father in the door. “Well?”
Herc Hansen was a handsome man with a killer’s eyes and a body that was lethal. “I could lie to you but we both know you’d see right through it. Your uncle is missing and the FBI started looking into you and by extension, me.” Herc needed answers.
Walking to the kitchen, Chuck went to make some coffee since he knew he was up for the night. It was too early to deal with his dad. Any time was a bad time to deal with his dad. “I know. I had at least three conversations with the agents.”
Herc moved close to his son. “And what did you tell them?”
“They wanted to know why I missed your bleeding wedding, among other things.” Chuck wasn’t ready to deal with this shite. “They threatened my student visa.”
Herc pulled Chuck out of the kitchen and put him on the sofa. “This isn’t a game!”
“Fuck off! You don’t get to come in here, throw me around, yell at me, and act like you’ve ever been involved in my life, you fuckin arse!” Chuck got back up and went to get his coffee. He really didn’t need to deal with this.
“You didn’t need to be there!” Herc countered as he followed his son to the kitchen. “I know how you feel about Stacker. Made it clear more than once.”
Chuck stared at his dad for a minute before growling, “You yanked me away from my friends, what felt like my first friends in ages, when I was fourteen to move to London and then made me live in Cairo. You sold the only home I knew. And you think it’s because you married a man that I’m bloody pissed at you?” New items for the list!
Herc’s eyes narrowed and then he waved his hand. “Regardless, your uncle is missing and I found out his husband, Chau, has ties to the PLA. He’s a conduit for shipping and receiving all kinds of things for them. And none of it looks legal. The Americans are looking at financial angles right now.”
“Did Uncle Scott know?” Chuck needed the coffee to hurry up. He was concerned for his uncle. He actually cared what happened to Chuck unlike the giant bloody arsehole yelling in his apartment.
“Doubt it, the money he made was clean as are all the investments. Stacker triple checked.” Herc looked at Chuck for a moment and sighed. The boy wasn’t much of a boy anymore. “I did the best I knew how with you.”
Chuck’s jaw dropped and then he tried to get his mouth to work. It was a struggle. Pain ran through his soul with that statement. “I…you didn’t try. And that you can stand there and say that and mean it. You were never around and I have no…Uncle Scott was it for me and you made me leave him and go with you to every base when I was ten.
“And even when we were there, I…I never saw you.” Chuck turned and tried to catch his breath. It hurt. Fuck, he hated therapy. “Please leave. I can’t with this right now. Go. Please.”
Chuck shut his bedroom door and climbed back into bed. His chest hurt more than he could ever remember. He missed his dog. Max loved him at least.
Walking out in the morning, Chuck held in the groan. “Why are you still here? Asked you to leave.”
Herc stood up and handed Chuck a cup of coffee. “Sit. Your uncle is in trouble and the FBI is focusing on stuff that came into the country by the PLA. Some of it is very sensitive.”
Chuck leaned on the kitchen counter. He needed to focus but couldn’t. “Why are you here?”
“There are things the FBI can’t know and you might be in danger.” Herc stood up and looked at his son. “You know how to fight and use a gun. I made sure you could survive. That was my duty to you.”
“Duty,” Chuck mocked. He couldn’t stop laughing suddenly. “I was an obligation because mum died. And Scott wasn’t reliable in your eyes.” He wiped at his eyes furiously.
“Charles. I have enemies and the less contact I have with you, the safer you are. You can handle yourself. Take care of yourself.” Herc moved closer but didn’t touch him. “You are strong enough to survive on your own. No attachments to hold you back.”
“GET. OUT!” Chuck yelled. His dad wanted him this way. Broken and alone. Unable to connect with another person. He threw his coffee mug at his dad. It missed and shattered against the wall. “Out!”
“You need to calm down and focus!” Herc commanded.
“I was a kid and you molded me into a broken man. GET OUT!” He threw another mug at the man. “GO!” Chuck was furious. He couldn’t hold back his temper.
Herc barely ducked in time from Chuck’s right cross. He countered and hit Chuck in the stomach. He stopped before he hit his son again. It was a reflex, but he knew the damage had been done. “I’m sorry. I’ll go.”
Tendo and Yancy went to see Chuck. They had a ping that Herc Hansen was in the States. They knocked a few times and then Tendo tried the door. It was unlocked and they slowly walked in.
Chuck was in front of his couch curled up against it. The place was a mess. Three bookshelves were overturned. Coffee stains on a wall from a shattered cup on the floor. The coffee table was on its side. It was wrecked. It had been so neat the one-time Yancy saw it.
Yancy and Tendo traded looks. “Chuck what happened?” Yancy was next to the kid. The kid looked worse that the apartment did.
“Dad’s here and I can’t with him.” Chuck curled in on himself even more. “Got into a fight. I missed and he got in a gut punch. Left after that.”
Tendo motioned for Yancy to join him outside. “I think we need to leave the kid alone. We’ve seen some fucked up families but this…”
“I want to help him clean up.” Yancy stopped and looked at Tendo. “Choi, he has no one. The one person left that might have cared for him is missing.” Yancy knew what it was like to feel completely alone. He was lucky an aunt came to their rescue. But those first weeks were nothing short of terrifying.
“Brother, be careful.” Tendo patted him on the back and left. “You know, it’s Raleigh’s job to pick up strays.” He knew from day one that Chuck was Yancy’s kryptonite.
Yancy went back inside and got Chuck off the floor. “Go take a shower and I’ll see about getting some of this cleaned up.”
Chuck did as he was told and headed for his room. Part of him never wanted to come back out. Worse, he still couldn’t manage to hate his father. He really hated therapy.
Getting the place back in order didn’t take much. Other than the broken coffee mugs, it was a matter getting everything back in place. Yancy watched as Chuck walked back out and frowned. “I know better than to ask if you are okay.”
He didn’t know why the agent was still here, but part of Chuck was glad he wasn’t alone, that someone on this stupid planet someone cared enough. “Thanks for straightening up. Mate, I don’t know what my dad wants.”
Yancy frowned as his phone buzzed. He looked at it and was suddenly more disturbed. “Chau is wanted by Interpol now.”
Chuck sat back and groaned. “Great.” He hoped his uncle would be okay, but he didn’t have any answers for anyone.
Playing lacrosse was the only time that Chuck got to cut loose and use all his athletic skills. He didn’t play until he was seventeen, the Athletic department thought sixteen was too young so he practiced and learned. Now he was a terror on the field.
He rolled his eyes when he saw Yancy at the complex before the game. He also noticed a few other guys who could only be FBI agents. If they wanted his dad, they were stupid, the man was a ghost. Herc Hansen could come and go as he pleased.
Still, it gelt nice to run up and down the field with his teammates. He wasn’t close to any of them. They had a few Call of Duty gaming tournaments. Over the years he’d had sex with a handful of them, but that was blowing off steam too. There was the six months that some engineering students had a D&D type game using artificers only. Chuck had never played before, but adapted quickly. That had been fun.
“Oi, you bloody bastards, score!” Chuck was being doubled. The stupid Arizona Wildcats knew he was Stanford’s first option to score. They were trying to keep him neutralized.
Finally, he broke free and got the ball, he fired it at the goal and scored. But then searing pain came into his left shoulder. He heard screaming and he was surrounded by teammates.
“Chuck!”
His premed teammate was in his line of vision. That was the last thing he saw.
Getting shot was not something Chuck ever expected to experience, nor did he want to. Now that he had, he didn’t want it again. Hospitals sucked. He had terrible memories of them from when his mum died.
“You’ll live. Bullet lost some power, impacted your lacrosse shoulder guard. Six-to-eight-week recovery but you should be good as new.”
Chuck looked over and saw Stacker Pentecost, his stepdad. He’d lived with the man for a year. They exchanged a dozen words during that time. “Why are you here?” He didn’t need this.
The man moved closer and made direct eye contact. “Because your father can’t be at the moment. They found your uncle in mostly one piece. He’ll be fine when all his finger and toe nails grow back.”
Wincing, Chuck remembered when his dad showed him how that felt when he was fifteen in Cairo. Said he needed to learn to focus through the pain. At least that lesson helped now or the drugs were really good. “Who shot me?”
“An associate of Chau’s. Killing you was to hurt your uncle and dad as much as possible,” Stacker paused as he stood up to look outside. “It would you know, deeply hurt your father, if you died. It hurts him now knowing you were shot because of him and Scott. The shooter was apprehended and is in custody.”
Chuck said nothing; his left shoulder ached suddenly and it was hard to focus. He didn’t want to think about anything. There were some flowers and a teddy bear in the room. People cared apparently. Huh.
“We don’t let kids serve in the military for a reason. And your father raised you to be a survivor. All hard edges and tough love, but it was love, Charles.” Stacker looked at him. “And maybe it wasn’t what you wanted, and for that I can offer more apologies for him and me, but given what we do, it was necessary.”
Chuck had a bullet wound and a broken shoulder because of what they were. Two months he’d have to cope with an injury as collateral damage. He managed to whisper, “Leave please.”
Stacker turned and nodded. “I’ll see you before I return to London. Your father will come visit after he gets your uncle settled some place safe.”
He stared at the far wall where the TV was. His fucked-up life wasn’t even because of him or his fault. That was worse than the actual gut punch his dad hit him with. They wanted him to be like this.
Yancy walked in and plopped down. “The bear is from Tendo, he felt bad. Flowers are from HSBC actually. Stanford needed to be calmed down; we handled it. You’re good.”
“This sucks,” was all Chuck managed to say. He refused to wallow. That much he would credit to his dad. Focus and move on.
“It does and your therapist is on her way. I think Stanford is insisting. You got shot on the playing field and were the actual target. A lot to process.” Yancy shrugged. “If we need you, I know where to find you. But the case is closed as far as we are concerned.”
A week in the hospital and then the Stanford Athletic Department placed him on medical leave too. Lots of classmates checked on him and it was weird and good to know that some of them liked him. He wasn’t a total loss of a human. That helped and the flowers from Engineering made him happy too.
Two teammates showed up to get him to his apartment. Three more showed up with groceries. And his coach yelled at him to ask for help if he needed it. People cared. There was a new group chat that was all about making him feel better. Chuck actually laughed at some of the stuff.
Having one arm was difficult but at least it was warm weather and shorts were easy to manage. The knock at the door caught him by surprise. Opening it was even more so.
“Yancy?” Chuck’s jaw dropped. He thought the visit at the hospital would be the last time he saw the man.
“May I come in,” Yancy asked. He did so at Chuck’s motion. “How are you recovering?”
“At least it was the offhand that is immobilized,” Chuck commented. “Finished all my projects. School is done according to my advisors. Coach yells at me every day via text. Guys come by every other day to make sure I’m still alive.”
Yancy sat down and motioned for Chuck to sit next to him. “Has your dad come by yet?”
“No. I told Stacker I don’t want to see him.” Chuck’s mental health was too fragile to deal with another fight. And it would be a fight, that much Chuck knew. He just couldn’t handle the man right now.
“I have a two-bedroom apartment up the road. Gated access and a stocked fridge. The guest room is available.” He reached over and little touch Chuck’s good hand. “I’d like it if you came to stay with me while you recover.”
Taking a deep breath, Chuck looked over and asked, “Why?”
“Because I like you and because, while you can manage on your own, you don’t have to.” Yancy smiled at him. “Your dad was wrong; attachments don’t make you weak. Plus, I want to keep an eye on you.”
Nodding, Chuck got up and motioned for Yancy to follow him. “I need some clothes and a few accessories. But, yeah, I think a change of scenery would be good for me.”
For Yancy’s part he couldn’t get the smile off his face. Chuck survived and would be okay eventually. And he could help the guy deal with fallout that he had nothing to do with. Chuck was collateral damage and the kid didn’t deserve it. Though he was happy to hear that his teammates stepped up to help him. He needed that kind of morale boost.
Chuck looked at his phone again. The coffee shop was neutral territory a few blocks from Yancy’s place and his dad was back. As much as he didn’t want to see the man, he knew it was best if he did. Breaking into an FBI agent’s apartment was likely to get someone shot.
“How’s the shoulder?” Herc asked as he set down two iced coffees.
“Mending,” Chuck offered and then nodded at his dad acknowledging the coffee. “How is Uncle Scott?”
“Back in Sydney, recovering from his torture. Still has his job, so he’s happy about that. Dumbasses actually thought he had his passwords and user names memorized. He loved Chau but never trusted him.” Herc snorted. His brother had shite taste in partners.
“Ah,” Chuck managed between slurps. He normally limited his sugar intake, but he figured this could be the exception. He needed the boost.
“You’re staying that seppo Agent?” Herc knew but wanted his son to confirm.
“He offered to help while I’m recovering,” Chuck looked down as he said that. “Was I a burden dad?” He wanted to know. Make or break time. He’d spilled enough tears in the shower so he could lie to himself that it was just water. His therapist told him it was okay to cry, but he knew his dad frowned upon it. But he reached the point where he needed to protect his own sanity.
“No. Not in the way you are framing it. You were a burden on my heart because I feared what happened to Scott would happen to you. And you still got shot.” Herc leaned back and sighed. “I did it all wrong with you and yet you still turned out to be a decent person. A right arsehole most of the time, but decent still. I know people cared, son. You still managed to make connections.”
Chuck shrugged as best as possible with one shoulder mending. “Found out some people cared was good. Getting shot on the field sucked though.” He played with his straw for a moment. “What happens now?” He found he didn’t want to break ties with his dad. It would hurt too much.
“You have your fancy job starting in September. Scott has arranged to pay for your physical therapy and anything else you need. He’s sorry you got hurt.” Herc paused and took a deep breath, “You’ll never know how much it hurt me when you got shot. Everything I did to keep you safe and here we are.”
Chuck didn’t know what to say to that. “How long are you here?”
“Two days. Why?” Herc looked at his son’s expression and frowned. He knew that face from his long deceased wife, Angie. That was never a good look.
“I have a therapy session tomorrow. I want you to come. We can have a frank conversation and it can help me deal with all the bullshite I’ve been piled under.” Chuck grinned at his dad. “It’s the very least you can do.”
Herc realized he was screwed. “Fine.”
Yancy walked into the Stanford Athletic Department training room. His FBI badge got him into places. He listened as the physical therapists worked with Chuck. The damage healed fast and now they were trying to get full mobility back into the shoulder and arm. The kid listened and only complained every other minute.
The lacrosse coach walked over and looked at Yancy. “You’re the one taking care of him?”
Yancy paused and nodded. “Yeah.”
The man wasn’t very old, probably a few years older than Yancy was. “Look, Hansen is the kind of guy that pretends to be an ass but is actually lovable.” He sighed and pulled Yancy into his office. “He’s been here for five years. I feel like he’s my little brother. He’s told a few of us why he doesn’t travel home for the holidays. He’s had a shit personal life so if you aren’t interested, please leave him alone. I…he doesn’t need heartache on top of everything else life handed him.”
A small smile graced Yancy’s face. “You know, it wasn’t until he got shot that he saw that he had support from team and classmates.” Yancy watched the kid’s face whenever someone dropped by, awe and wonder. Awe and wonder.
“He’s not easy to get to know. Stanford is full of intense multidimensional students. He’s a true engineer, but he helped people when they needed it with math or science for example. He tries to be an asshole to keep people away. But once you know him, you want to protect him. But never tell him that because he’ll run away, faster than light,” the coach laughed.
“I’ve noticed. And, I’ve actually talked to his dad.” Yancy paused and looked at the other man. “I like Chuck. I’m not playing with him. How do you know he’s interested?”
Coach rolled his eyes. “He’s staying with you. He turned down offers from me and half the team. Hansen doesn’t like to feel vulnerable. His dad did a number on him. But at least he’s staying with you. We all care.”
“No shit.” Yancy stood up and nodded. “I invited him to stay because I wanted to get to know him and deserves so much more than he’s been given emotionally. I know how crappy a childhood can get. His…his is unique. Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt him.”
Chuck’s arm was in a sling, only to prevent him from doing too much too soon. He opened the package from his uncle and sighed. A bunch of Tim Tams and a Lego Barad Dur. He grinned. He was such a closet nerd, but he went to Stanford where even the jocks were nerds. It was a badge of honor among all of them.
Yancy walked in and saw the package. He walked over and pulled Chuck close to him. “You don’t have to go back to your place.”
Leaning into the embrace, Chuck would normally fight the want to be held. But the almost two months with Yancy had been a blessing. “You want me here?”
“No,” Yancy pulled Chuck with him towards Yancy’s room. “I want you here when you are ready. I have since I first saw you.” He paused and then looked directly at Chuck. “It was very unprofessional, but I knew that first day this is where I wanted to end up.”
“Why?” Chuck still felt so broken.
“Because Chuck, you are an amazing man and I don’t think you realize that.” Yancy placed a light kiss on the younger man’s lips. “And I think the world of you. You aren’t broken, maybe a little, but despite everything you still try to make connections.”
Sighing, Chuck gave Yancy a one-armed hug. “You’ve seen me at my worst and still like me?”
“No, I know what you’ve gone through and it makes me admire you more. I know it is asking a lot, but I do want to live with you.” And then Yancy whispered. “And I want to fuck you through the mattress once your arm is completely healed.”
Wiggling his fingers, Chuck gave Yancy his best grin. “Technically I am healed. Now it is getting full range of motion back. But all the bits are back in place and whole.”
“How about we start with a blow job and progress from there as incentive to do your physical therapy safely and completely?” Yancy dropped to his knees and freed Chuck from his shorts. He grinned up at the other man. “You are a big boy.”
Leaning against the wall, Chuck reached down and threaded his hands into Yancy’s perfect hair. “I’ve wanted to mess this up from day one, mate. Looking so perfect in your suit.”
Yancy looked up and grinned. “You like me.”
The blush covered all of Chuck’s torso. “Mate, a wanker like you just screams that you can fuck like a demon to me.” He groaned as his cock was sucked as best as it could be. It was beer can thick and not easily swallowed. But it felt like the best blow he’d ever been given.
Yancy stood up and kissed Chuck as he finished him off by hand. Yancy swallowed the moans of the younger man as jets of cum blasted out of that fat cock. “Better?”
“Mate, wait until I’m fully healed and then you get a college athlete in your bed.” Chuck leaned his head on Yancy’s shoulder. He allowed himself the comfort. Maybe he wasn’t broken.
“I eagerly await being able to fuck that perfect ass of yours through the mattress. But first, how about we watch a movie and cuddle on our bed?” Yancy gave Chuck a quick kiss and grinned.
A cuddle and a movie. For Chuck that sounded just about perfect. Maybe therapy had worked on him. “We’re hiring movers when my lease is up, mate. I ain’t lugging all my stuff over here.”
“You have a whole team ready to help you. Ask! We pay in pizza and beer like all other college kids,” Yancy countered. “Come on, let’s take a nap.”
Chuck groaned but followed. “Maybe I can guilt Uncle Scott into buying us a house. I want a dog. Max was the best.”
Yancy knew what he was getting into, he hoped.