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The Evils of Trigonometry

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Rome is a pretty chill guy. He goes through life fairly easily, doing what’s expected of him as a student, a friend, a son and now a boyfriend, without much of a worry. The biggest obstacle in his life as an adult so far had been getting Pick to admit they were dating. That was until he finally had to take that maths requirement, his final year of college. 

He had not known a bigger hell than whatever was on the pages of that cursed textbook. 

Don’t get him wrong, while he’s not the smartest kid in class by any measure he’s not dumb either; he’s always kept fairly above average grades. He does his assignments well and mostly breezes through finals week with barely any all-nighters, which is saying a lot for his generation. This maths exam, though, is absolutely kicking his ass.

Numbers have never been his forte and he’d happily dropped anything that required looking at formulas as soon as he had the option. He wanted to go into photography anyway, it’s not like he would ever need to know what sin and cos are. But try telling the university that. 

He groans and slumps dramatically across their small dining table where he’d set up shop. If he’d still been living at home his mom would have showed up with some unreasonably strong coffee to get him back on track by now. But now that he’s moved in with Pick he’s on his own all day until his Whole Grown Adult boyfriend comes back from work.

At the rate his frustrations are growing, Pick is gonna walk in on him having a full-on cry over his evil textbook with the evil numbers that will be the reason for his demise.

“I hate this so much!” He whines for the hundredth time that day.

“Are you still doing this?” Pick’s voice drifts in from the doorway and Rome looks up to see the older man walk in. Speak of the devil. 

“Is it six already?” He really lost track of time today. “I didn’t even get halfway through my study plan!” 

Pick just pats him on the head with a chuckle before going up to change, clearly apathetic to his boyfriend’s pain. Rome glares after him for a second before turning back to his work. Somehow, after a good three hours of studying, it all makes even less sense than it had before. Fucking trigonometry.

He tries his best to focus and not get distracted again when Pick comes down some fifteen minutes later, freshly showered and looking hot as fuck with his damp hair all over his face. Sadly, his schedule is too packed this week- no time for horny thoughts. So, even though he can hear his boyfriend puttering about in the kitchen, he resolutely ignores the urge to go beg for kisses in favour of continuing to fail at solving the worksheet in front of him. 

“Oi shorty,” Pick says, apparently set on being as distracting as he could. “Time to take a break.”

He looks up just as Pick sets a fresh cup of coffee down in front of him and bends down to brush his lips lightly against Rome’s temple. Maybe a tiny little break isn’t too bad an idea. He needs to recharge anway, and what better way to do that than with coffee and kisses? 

He turns around and is instantly snuggled up to his boyfriend’s side, Pick holding him tight like he knows Rome likes to be held. The shorter man hums as he melts into the embrace, the day’s exhaustion seeping away. Pick gave the best hugs, an unexpected bonus of having the grumpy older man as his boyfriend. Which reminds him of another unexpected bonus of being Pick’s boyfriend- he could do math! 

He always did all the necessary math in this relationship. Calculating bills, splitting checks, budgeting their expenses and so on and so forth. Pick was good with numbers, like the complete asshole that he was. It was Rome’s god-given right to exploit this evil talent!

“P’Piiiiiick!” he whines, voice muffled by Pick’s shirt. 

“What are you gonna ask for, Shorty?” He knew him so well. It really was true love.

“The evil subject is making me cry! Please help! I can’t do this on my own!”

Pick chuckles a little before handing him his cup of coffee and closing his textbook- the traitor! Maybe he spoke of true love too fast!

“I just told you to take a break, Shorty.” Pick says, turning back to the hug. “So we’re going to sit here while you drink your coffee and you can ask me all the questions about the very basic trigonometry after you’re done.”

“Don’t make fun of me!” Rome protests. “I’m smart in other ways! Maths is just evil!”

Pick just shakes his head fondly as he pulls Rome in for a kiss. All thoughts of maths and exams fade from his mind for a while after that. Yep, true love it is.