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Kim knew he wasn’t book-smart, but he never felt stupid, either. He could win just about any bet, swim fast enough to bring home medals from any meet, and make his boyfriend laugh. Usually, all that felt like the best kind of smart.
Studying for the math exam, though? That made him feel weak and useless. Kim waded through rules and formulas, going slower and slower, and felt utterly demoralized.
“I could tutor you,” Max said when Kim, shyly, admitted how much trouble he was having.
“But won’t that make it harder for you to study?” Kim knew it was a silly question as soon as he said it. Max barely needed to study at all. He had built Markov from scratch.
But Max just put a firm, comforting hand in Kim’s and said, “No. If anything, helping you learn the material will serve as an efficient way to review it.”
In the end, at Max’s suggestion, they took their notebooks and calculators to the park. There, Kim bought them an ice cream from Andre, made Max smile by balancing it on the tip of his nose, and just managed not to drop it on the ground.
Max got up on his tiptoes to wipe a smear of chocolate off Kim’s face. This brought his lips so close to Kim’s that Kim had to kiss them. But Max moved away, wiping his glasses where Kim had smudged the lenses.
Seeing Kim’s pout, Max said, “You can have more if you focus.”
This put Kim into an impossible position, of course. If he focused, Max would kiss him. But then he’d be focused on Max, so he wouldn’t actually deserve the kiss. When he tuned back in, Max was trying to get his attention to explain something.
“What?” Kim eyed the study guide in Max’s arms nervously. It felt like a bomb that could go off at any moment. It felt like his amazing, clever boyfriend was going to realize how stupid he was and stop liking him.
Kim breathed in slowly and blew the air out through his nose, the way Ms. Bustier had taught them in her classes. Max didn’t want a math-genius boyfriend. He wanted Kim, just the way he was.
“We’ll do fifteen minute study intervals interspersed with the physical activity of your choice,” Max said. “Statistically, this improves knowledge retention in people who are more physically minded.”
This only made Kim want to pull Max in close and demonstrate how physically minded he could be, but Max would interpret such behavior as an attempt to weasel out of studying. Which it would be.
“I’ll try anything once,” Kim said instead.
“Good,” said Max. “That is the correct attitude.”
Somehow, Kim felt less stupid when Max was doing the teaching. Even when he got things wrong or got especially confused, Max treated every question he asked seriously and answered it in full. By their third break, which he spent doing one-handed pushups and hoping Max would take the opportunity to inspect his butt, Kim almost felt confident.
That melted away when Max started going over the next chapter. Kim waded deep into the first practice problem, got unimaginably stuck, and felt stupider than ever.
Max noticed his expression. He picked up Kim’s paper, made some notes in the margin, and said, “Do you remember when you tried to teach me to dribble a basketball?”
Of course Kim remembered, and he couldn’t hide his smile. That was the day he’d been completely certain, for the first time, that he was in love with Max. It was something about the way he sprawled across the gym floor, legs splayed out wildly like a baby deer’s, while the ball hurtled away in a random direction. Max had been completely hopeless, and completely adorable.
“You didn’t stop liking me,” Max said, “even though I still can’t do it in approximately ninety percent of cases.”
When Max returned Kim’s paper, there was a little doodle of Markov in the margin. Kim smiled at it.
“You’re almost there,” Max told him. “You just misplaced your variable. Start from this step.”
Kim did his best, with his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth. It took a few more gentle prods from Max, but he found an answer that made sense. He looked at Max to see if he was right.
“You can check it yourself, Kim,” said Max, giving nothing away.
Kim screwed up his face and checked his work on the problem. “I’m…right? I’m right! I got it right!”
Max gave him a small, proud nod, but this wasn’t enough for Kim. Kim threw his arms around his boyfriend, lifted him off his feet, and spun him around.
“I get it!” he cried. “Sorta!”
“Put me down, please,” said Max.
Kim hurried to set Max down, worried he was hurt, but Max just pulled him in for a long, slow kiss. Kim stopped breathing. He wanted to inhale his amazing, romantic, handsome, clever boyfriend.
“You focused,” Max whispered when they finally came up for air, noses touching.
“Yeah,” Kim managed, panting a little. He leaned in for another kiss. It was as breathtaking as the first. “Can I focus on you for a while? We made a lot of progress.”
Max adjusted his glasses. “We are seventy-three percent of the way through the study materials I prepared,” he said.
Max’s lips were very, very soft. His skin was warm. All his practice on the swim team meant that Kim could kiss him without coming up for air for a long time.
Finally, with his arm around Max’s shoulders and Max’s head resting on his chest, Kim said, “We could go back to my house. And focus some more.”
“That,” said Max, “is the best idea you have proposed all day.”
Kim beamed at him. “That’s saying a lot, too! I invented the game where I eat everything on my lunch tray in five minutes today.”
Max looked back at Kim with deep, abiding affection. “Yes. You certainly did.”