Work Text:
Friday’s are always the worst days to be in academia profession. Most of Herc’s students don’t want to pay attention to the lectures he delivers and those that do only do so because they hope they can trap him in office hours after class and ‘take this conversation somewhere more comfortable’. That will never stop being the most annoying part of teaching the cunts.
No, never mind, the most annoying part of teaching obnoxious twats is when one of them decides to try to sleep through his class. Herc makes his way through the seats up the stairs and slaps a hand down on the desk in front of the sleeping blonde boy, Becket, Yancy. He startles upright with a shout clutching at this chest and knocking his books onto the floor. There are snickers and out right laughs throughout the classroom.
“Oi! If you don’t want to be awake in my class, get the hell out of my classroom!” Becket shakes his head like he's trying to make some sense of the situation.
“Sorry, sorry, it was a long night of…” He trails off at the look of ‘I don’t give a damn’ on Herc’s face.
“I don’t give a damn, get out of my classroom.” Herc orders. The kid gathers his things and heads out with his shoulders around his ears, cheeks red with embarrassment. The almost identical blonde sitting behind the now empty seat is grinning hugely until he notices the glare Herc is leveling his way.
***
Friday nights are usually boring as all hell, with grading papers and listening to Chuck bitch about going to uni in Boston. Except for tonight, when there’s no call from Chuck the second Herc walks in the door, bending down to scratch Max behind the ear. He clips the leash to Max’s collar and takes him for a quick walk around the block, the boy is getting on in years and his waddling isn’t as fast as it used to be.
By the time he gets back to the house, the phone is ringing. He runs to catch it just before the last ring and is a little out of breath when he says hello.
“Jeeze dad, you’re not supposed to be answering the door when you’re in the middle of it!” Chuck scolds him.
“Fuck off,” Herc snarks gruffly. “I just got back from walking your dog.” The conversation is a lot softer after that. There’s nothing the boy likes more than his dog right. Herc’s just pondering h what he’s going to eat for dinner, whether the milk the fridge is expired or not, when the doorbell rings.
“I gotta cut it short, Chuck, someone’s at the door.” Chuck laughs loudly.
“Have fun Dad.” He hangs up on his still laughing son, shaking his head. Max is barking at the door like he thinks it will open just by virtue of how loud he can be and there’s a grinning delivery boy on his porch with a bag of what smells like Herc’s favourite curry.
“Smells great,” Herc says congenially. “But I didn’t order anything.” The grin gets wider and the tips of the kids ears are red even though it’s a beautiful balmy evening. He looks terribly familiar.
“Sorry, Professor Hansen,” and then he places the face. Becket, Raleigh, brother of the one who fell asleep in his lecture today. Herc sighs and gears up for the 'it's not you, it's me, and shouldn't be following me home' conversation. He's had to do it more than once.
“I didn't order any takeout," he says. The kid looks adorably perplexed.
"I'm pretty sure this is for you, already paid for..."
Herc interrupts. "Look, this is a new level of creepy, son and I’m not really interested in…” The kid’s brow furrows.
“No, Sir, that’s not what this is. The order was placed and paid for by a C. Hansen?” and Herc sighs again, meddling little shit, probably why he was laughing. Chuck always does like it when he gets one over on his old man.
“Yeah, alright.” He reaches for the bag but the kid moves a step back.
“Sorry, no can do, there were some special instructions.”
“Special instructions, for a delivery of curry,” the kid grins and holds out a slip of paper. Herc looks it over and groans. Send your hottest delivery boy to flirt with the guy who answers the door.
“Maybe, if you weren’t one of my students and if my son hadn’t sent you.” Herc replied with a roll of his eyes . The kid grins and holds the bag out for Herc to take.
“Raleigh Becket, and I’m only auditing, I’m not actually a student of yours.” The wink he gives is both hilariously ridiculous and completely dirty at the same time. Herc can’t help but smile back.
“Herc Hansen, and you’re still technically a student. See you in class on Monday.”
He calls Chuck and curses him out for a few minutes until Chuck interrupts.
“So, was he?” Chuck asks.
“Was he what?”
“Was he the hottest delivery boy? come on Herc, on point here.”
“He was one of my students, but he wasn’t half bad,” Herc concedes. He hangs up on his laughing, meddlesome, bastard of a child for the second time in one night. And if he jerks off that night to pretty pouty lips, smirking eyes and laconic drawl that's his own business.
***
There’s a delivery boy at his door on Saturday afternoon waiting for him after his run. Herc raises an amused eyebrow at the glazed look Raleigh gives him when he jogs up the front steps to his door. He's well aware of what a sweaty shirt does for his chest and abs.
“Wow,” Raleigh sighs. “That’s just...your son is the worst.” Herc can’t help but laugh. He takes the bag and looks over the print out. Two cilantro chicken salad wraps and a note deliver after two pm, send the delivery boy from last night . Raleigh isn’t in the restaurant jacket from last night.
“You off for the day?” Herc asks as he unlocks the door. Max scrambles around his ankles, Herc’s runs are much too fast paced for the old pup.
“Yeah it’s my day off but Yancy, my brother, works the phones and he called about the special instructions. To be honest, it isn’t a hardship.” Raleigh’s face is beet red, the flush all the way down his neck and Herc wonders just how far down it really goes. Fuck his stupid son.
“Well, there are two wraps here, and I’m not about to eat ‘em both,” Herc says. Raleigh follows him in wearing that stupid ridiculous grin.
/end