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The deal was supposed to be strictly transactional: Choso handles the mechanisms of Chemistry 201 so Y/N doesn't get kicked off the cheer squad, and Y/N handles the mechanisms of basic human intimacy so Choso stops vibrating out of his skin from pure touch starvation. It sounds foolproof on paper. But neither of them factored in the sheer, chaotic friction of putting a loud, overly affectionate bimbo flyer into the cramped, low-rent apartment of a chronically anxious nerd who looks like a gothic villain but melts like hot butter at a single brush of her shoulder. Suddenly, their scheduled study sessions are less about covalent bonds and more about Choso trying not to pass out when Y/N straddles his lap to show him how a real, warm hug is supposed to feel. Between Choso's agonizingly slow, highly flustered descent into losing his virginity and Y/N realizing her moody, antisocial tutor might actually be the sweetest, most possessive guy on campus, the lab safety guidelines are completely out the window. It turns out Choso is a quick study when it comes to hands-on learning—and once he actually figures out what to do with his hands? Y/N is the one who ends up completely breathless.