[PoT] Logic (Tezuka/Ryoma, PG13)
I have the Math SATII tomorrow. I'm terrified because I haven't actually studied. Took forever for me to make up the proof (even then, it...sucks), but I had my heart set on the transitive property. (Shut up, I'm not crazy. :x) Burger price is made up.
Logic
396 words
Prompt: proof
Ryoma taps his pencil against his cheek, bored out of his mind while Buchou steadfastly makes his way through Advanced Geometry homework.
He wants Buchou to stop so they can make out or play tennis, but Tezuka-buchou seems to think math is important.
Ryoma thinks the only math he ever needs to know is that it takes four points to win a tennis game, six games to win a match, and 359 yen for a burger at McDonalds.
He watches the Buchou's brow furrow and his pencil write a few lines in his always neat handwriting before erasing it. Tezuka-buchou seems frustrated and Tezuka-buchou is never frustrated, not in tennis and especially not for homework.
Ryoma leans quietly over the third year's straight back and peeks over his shoulder. He stares at the problem before grabbing a blank sheet of paper from the desk, sets up a table and writes the proof for the other boy.
He shoves it in Buchou's line of vision and watches brown eyes blink slowly at Ryoma's calculations before those eyes meet his own golden ones.
"Four statements, Buchou: Tennis is better than math. Spending time with me is better than playing tennis. Spending time with me equates to making out and playing tennis," Ryoma says, a smirk winding its way onto his lips, "Therefore, Buchou, we should either be making out or playing tennis."
How's that for the transitive property? Ryoma thinks smugly.
Buchou arches an amused brow before leaning over to kiss the freshman lightly on the lips, murmuring, "Who am I to go against logic?"
Ryoma hums happily as he presses in against Tezuka's body.
Omake
"Tezuka-san," the math teacher starts uncertainly, "what is this?"
Tezuka stands, the brief sheepish look that crosses his face the only indication of his embarrassment. "Well, I asked my boyfriend for help on that proof," he explains, "and he wrote that for me."
"But Tezuka-san, this doesn't prove why this triangle must be scalene," Arukawa-sensei says, confused and slightly scandalized that his star pupil is gay.
"No, I suppose it doesn't, sensei," Tezuka deadpans, "but his logic is infallible. Therefore, I had to give up the proof for a tennis game."
"And a make-out session," Ryoma calls into the room as he walks past, carting English textbooks to the classroom four doors down.
"And that," Tezuka amends, a long-suffering look crossing his face.