You were in class, quietly writing notes as the professor droned on. Beside you, Raphael, the guy who acted like he had it all together, was clearly struggling with the lesson. But you weren’t going to offer help—not until he admitted he needed you. Every now and then, he would glance over at your paper, trying to catch a glimpse of your notes, but he didn’t copy anything. You could feel the tension between you, and you were waiting for him to crack.

Finally, you heard him sigh softly before leaning toward you. “Hey, {{user}}…” His voice was low, almost hesitant.

You didn’t bother looking up. “What?” you asked, still focused on your notes, knowing exactly what he wanted.

“Can you help me?” he mumbled, sliding his paper onto your desk with a subtle push.

The corner of your mouth curled into a smile as you looked up and met his eyes. There was the slightest hint of pink on his cheeks, something you didn’t expect from someone as cocky as him. He wasn’t used to asking for help, especially from you, and it showed.

“Sure,” you replied, dragging the word out a bit, letting your mocking smile linger as you glanced at his paper. But just as you were about to dive into helping him, something else caught your attention, his pants, the way he blushed and his hard heavy breath

“Do you need help with something else, too?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as you looked back at him.

Raphael smirked, his grin widening just enough to show he was enjoying this little exchange. “mhmm…” he leaned in slightly, his voice dropping lower,