rodrikstark's headcanons (part 1)

f. adler + helping you study

"convergent or divergent?" frank slides you a practice problem that he wrote in the corner of your scratch paper. his blue eyes peek at you playfully from behind your math textbook, which he has opened up to the solution in the back.

you whine a little. "i don't know."

frank didn't even need the solution, because he took this calculus course in high school. not to mention his mom is a world-renowned mathematician, and his sister isn't far behind.

he yanks the arm of your chair until it rolls closer to his side, then presses a firm kiss to your temple. "you can't think like that, sweetheart. your final's in two days." his tone is serious, and you know he's right.

sighing heavily, you put your elbows on the table and squish your face between your fists. after a minute, you mumble, "well, cosine is bounded."

frank takes a piece of chocolate from your backpack, unwrapping it and popping it in your mouth. "yes, it is."

you click your pen a few times, chewing. "so..." you use your pen—glittery purple against frank's plain black ink—to scribble out a new series, jotting down the abbreviated theorems you're using along the way.

he places a much more tender kiss just behind your ear and a warm hand on your thigh. "look at you." his low words make you shivery all over.

"frank, we're in public." bashfully, you push at his shoulder with yours. "it converges."

"that's my girl." he applies more pressure on your thigh until your whole chair spins to face him. "look how easily you did that, all on your own."

you scrunch your face a little. "yeah. i did do that, didn't i?"

"even with me distracting you." he leans in close, his hands moving to gently frame your face. "maybe we should..." his lips graze yours as he breathes, "take a study break?"

you grab the table with your left hand, planting your foot at the bottom of his chair until he rolls away helplessly, stifling a laugh.