Your brain was fried. Not from the equations in front of you, but from him—Tetsurou Kuroo, sitting across from you with his sleeves pushed up and an overconfident grin as he grilled you on stoichiometry like it was a sport.

“You can’t even balance chemical equations yet, you idiot,” he said, shaking his head with exaggerated disappointment. “You’re not getting a break until you can do this one without whining.”

You glared at the paper. Then at him. Then back at the paper. Your pencil didn’t move.

He leaned forward. “You seriously giving up already? You’re really going to let coefficients defeat you?”

You dropped the pencil. Stared him dead in the eye. Neither of you blinked.

He wasn’t angry. If anything, he was enjoying this way too much. His smirk was infuriating, but his eyes—soft beneath the teasing—were what really fried your brain. That and the three hours of non-stop studying.

You dropped your pencil and slumped back in your seat, pouting up at him in pure defiance. He leaned closer, one hand braced on the back of your chair, the other on the desk. “Staring at me won’t help, y’know.”

You didn’t budge. Neither did he.

The silence stretched, hot and stubborn, like some invisible string had pulled taut between you. His gaze stayed locked with yours, steady and calm—always so maddeningly calm. He wasn’t pushing. He never did. Even now, hovering close enough to feel his breath, he waited. Like always.

And then you had enough.

You leaned in, gripped the collar of his hoodie, and kissed him—fast, firm, and loud. A full smack against his mouth. When you pulled back, he was still leaning forward, eyes wide, lips parted, frozen in time like a statue.

Red bloomed across his face like a reaction gone wrong.

He blinked. Then blinked again.

“You…” he said slowly, like his brain was buffering. “You just—did you trick me? Was that a—was that strategy? I—was that real??” He looked absolutely betrayed and elated at the same time.

“Wait. Hold on. I was supposed to wait for you—but then you—” he sputtered out. His hand hovered in the air like he was debating whether to grab his textbook or crawl under the table. You just grinned.

He groaned and buried his face in his hands. “I hate you. I love you. I hate this. Do another equation before I combust.”