\ud83d\udd25 Bonus Chapter: Private Tutoring \u2014 The Pop Quiz
An exclusive scene from Booked Solid by My Tutor \u2014 too hot for Amazon.
The MCAT flashcards were a prop.
Ethan knew it. Cassian knew it. The entire apartment \u2014 the two mugs, the three plants, the second pillow, the growing evidence of a life shared rather than solitary \u2014 knew it. But the fiction was part of the foreplay, and they\u2019d both committed to the bit.
\u201cThe rules are simple,\u201d Ethan said, settling onto the kitchen counter with the flashcard stack in his hand and a grin that would have gotten him expelled from any institution that still believed in decorum. \u201cYou ask me questions. If I get the answer right, I get a point. If I get it wrong, you get a point.\u201d
\u201cAnd the stakes?\u201d Cassian was leaning against the opposite counter, arms crossed, glasses on. He\u2019d come home from the lab twenty minutes ago and hadn\u2019t changed yet \u2014 still in his button-down with the sleeves pushed up, still ink-stained at the fingertips, still looking like a man who could ruin your GPA and your composure in the same sentence.
\u201cFirst to five points gets to be in charge for the rest of the night. Full control. The other person does whatever they\u2019re told.\u201d
Cassian\u2019s eyebrow rose. \u201cYou\u2019re proposing a competition for sexual dominance based on biochemistry knowledge.\u201d
\u201cI\u2019m proposing an incentive structure. You taught me that.\u201d
\u201cI taught you enzyme kinetics.\u201d
\u201cSame energy.\u201d
He uncrossed his arms. Took the flashcards from Ethan\u2019s hand. Their fingers touched during the transfer and neither of them pretended not to notice.
\u201cFirst question,\u201d Cassian said, flipping the top card. \u201cName the three stop codons.\u201d
\u201cUAA, UAG, UGA.\u201d
\u201cCorrect. One-zero.\u201d
\u201cToo easy. Harder.\u201d
Cassian\u2019s eyes darkened. \u201cCareful what you ask for.\u201d He flipped another card. \u201cDescribe the mechanism by which aminoacyl-tRNA synthetase ensures fidelity during translation.\u201d
Ethan answered. Correctly. In detail. While sitting on the kitchen counter in Cassian\u2019s henley and nothing else from the waist down except boxer briefs, because he\u2019d decided that wardrobe was part of the incentive structure and Cassian hadn\u2019t objected.
Two-zero.
Cassian set the flashcards down. \u201cYou\u2019re not playing fair.\u201d
\u201cI\u2019m playing to win. You taught me that too.\u201d
\u201cI didn\u2019t teach you to weaponize your thighs.\u201d
\u201cThat was self-taught.\u201d
Cassian crossed the kitchen. Stood between Ethan\u2019s knees. Picked up the next card with one hand and placed his other hand on Ethan\u2019s bare thigh \u2014 high, warm, his thumb tracing the inner seam of muscle.
\u201cWhat enzyme catalyzes the committed step in glycolysis?\u201d
The thumb moved. Slow circle. Ethan\u2019s breath shortened.
\u201cPhosphofructokinase-1. PFK-1. Catalyzes the phosphorylation of fructose-6-phosphate to fructose-1,6-bisphosphate. Allosterically activated by AMP, inhibited by ATP and citrate.\u201d His voice was steady. Barely. \u201cThree-zero.\u201d
Cassian\u2019s hand slid higher. His fingers traced the elastic edge of Ethan\u2019s boxer briefs, feather-light. He flipped the next card.
\u201cDescribe the Henderson-Hasselbalch equation and its clinical application in arterial blood gas analysis.\u201d
His hand slipped under the fabric. Ethan\u2019s abs clenched. His thighs tightened around Cassian\u2019s hips.
\u201cpH equals pKa plus log of conjugate base over acid,\u201d Ethan managed, his voice thinning. Cassian\u2019s hand wrapped around him, warm and deliberate. \u201cClinically it\u2019s used to determine whether acidosis or alkalosis is respiratory or metabolic in \u2014 fuck, Cass \u2014 in origin.\u201d
\u201cIs that your final answer?\u201d Cassian murmured against his ear, hand moving with slow, precise rhythm.
\u201cFour-zero,\u201d Ethan breathed. \u201cOne more and I win.\u201d
Cassian pulled back. Removed his hand. Set the flashcards aside entirely.
\u201cLast question. No card. I\u2019m going off-script.\u201d
He stepped between Ethan\u2019s legs. Put both hands on the counter, framing Ethan\u2019s hips. Leaned in until their faces were inches apart.
\u201cWhat\u2019s the mechanism by which repeated paired stimulation of a neutral stimulus with an unconditioned stimulus produces a conditioned response?\u201d
\u201cThat\u2019s not biochemistry. That\u2019s psychology.\u201d
\u201cThe MCAT covers behavioral sciences. Answer the question.\u201d
\u201cClassical conditioning. The neutral stimulus \u2014 in this case, the word \u2018good\u2019 \u2014 is repeatedly paired with an unconditioned stimulus \u2014 your mouth, your hands, the sound of your voice when I get an answer right \u2014 until the neutral stimulus alone produces the conditioned response.\u201d
\u201cWhich is?\u201d
\u201cI get hard every time someone says \u2018good\u2019 in an academic context and it\u2019s ruining my life.\u201d
Cassian laughed. The real laugh. Then he leaned in and whispered, right against Ethan\u2019s mouth: \u201cGood.\u201d
Ethan grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him in and kissed him so hard the flashcards scattered off the counter.
\u201cFive-zero,\u201d Ethan said against his mouth. \u201cI win. You\u2019re mine tonight.\u201d
\u201cI\u2019m yours every night.\u201d
\u201cTonight you\u2019re mine specifically.\u201d
He pushed Cassian backward. Through the kitchen, down the hall, into the bedroom that was theirs now \u2014 two pillows, three plants, a nightstand where wire-rimmed glasses lived beside a water glass.
Ethan pulled Cassian\u2019s shirt open. Buttons, not torn \u2014 they\u2019d moved past the frantic stage into something more deliberate. He pushed the shirt off Cassian\u2019s shoulders, traced the scar on his wrist, kissed the hollow of his throat.
\u201cLie down,\u201d Ethan said.
Cassian lay down. On his back. Looking up at Ethan with gray eyes that held no mask, no composure, no clinical distance. Just trust and want and the quiet willingness of a man who had learned to let someone take care of him.
Ethan straddled him. Pulled the henley over his own head. Pressed his hands flat on Cassian\u2019s chest.
\u201cYou know what I love about you?\u201d Ethan said, leaning down, mouth against Cassian\u2019s ear.
\u201cMy allosteric regulation research?\u201d
\u201cYour everything.\u201d He kissed below Cassian\u2019s ear. His jaw. The corner of his mouth. \u201cYour stupid glasses. Your ink-stained fingers. The way you cook pasta like it\u2019s a lab protocol. The way you say my name.\u201d
\u201cEthan.\u201d
\u201cJust like that.\u201d
He kissed down Cassian\u2019s body. Slowly. Taking his time because he\u2019d won the game and the prize was this: the chance to worship this man without a clock or a locked door or a single reason to stop.
He undid Cassian\u2019s belt. Pulled his pants down. Took him in his mouth with focused attention, and Cassian\u2019s hand went to his hair \u2014 not guiding, not directing, just holding on \u2014 and the sound he made was Ethan\u2019s name, said like a prayer.
Ethan brought him close. Then stopped. Climbed up his body. Pressed their foreheads together.
\u201cI want you inside me,\u201d Ethan said.
Cassian\u2019s hands framed his face. \u201cAlways.\u201d
They moved together. No performance. No power dynamic. No arrangement or compensation. Just the rhythm they\u2019d built \u2014 their rhythm, specific and practiced and still capable of surprise \u2014 and the sounds they made were honest and unhurried and full.
Cassian pressed into him slowly, his hands on Ethan\u2019s hips, his eyes on Ethan\u2019s face. They\u2019d learned each other\u2019s bodies with the thoroughness of scientists and the tenderness of people in love, and the combination was devastating every time.
Ethan rode him. Controlled the pace. Set the rhythm. And Cassian let him, watching from below with those gray eyes that had seen him failing and drowning and fighting and succeeding and had never, not once, looked away.
\u201cYou\u2019re everything,\u201d Cassian said. The words he\u2019d first spoken in this bed, months ago. He said them now with the easy certainty of a man who had run the experiment enough times to trust the result. \u201cYou\u2019re everything, Ethan.\u201d
\u201cSay it again.\u201d
\u201cYou\u2019re everything.\u201d
\u201cAgain.\u201d
\u201cYou\u2019re\u2014\u201d
He came. Mid-word, mid-sentence, mid-declaration. Ethan followed, with Cassian\u2019s hand on him and Cassian\u2019s voice in his ears and the absolute, bone-deep certainty that he was exactly where he was supposed to be.
After. Tangled. Breathing. The plant on the nightstand casting a small green shadow in the lamplight.
\u201cI got every question right,\u201d Ethan said.
\u201cYou did.\u201d
\u201cI\u2019m going to ace the MCAT.\u201d
\u201cI know.\u201d
\u201cAnd then medical school.\u201d
\u201cOr marine biology.\u201d
Ethan lifted his head from Cassian\u2019s chest. \u201cYou remembered that?\u201d
\u201cI remember everything about you. The whales. The blue whale poster. The ocean you dreamed about before someone told you it wasn\u2019t practical.\u201d
\u201cYou think I should study the ocean?\u201d
\u201cI think you should study whatever makes you look the way you look when you talk about deep-sea biology documentaries at 11 PM on a Tuesday.\u201d
Ethan pressed his face into Cassian\u2019s chest and felt the laugh before he heard it \u2014 the vibration, the warmth, the sound of a man who had learned to be happy and was still surprised by it every time.
\u201cI love you,\u201d Ethan said.
\u201cI love you too.\u201d No rehearsal. No precision. Just the truth, easy and warm, the simplest mechanism in the world.
On the windowsill, three small plants reached toward the light.
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