Their Wonder Years: Season 1: Fall 1998
Copyright© 2025 by Tantrayaan
61: Sunflowers to the Light
Coming of Age Sex Story: 61: Sunflowers to the Light - Bharath always thought going to America would mean fast love, wild parties, and maybe a stewardess or two. What he got instead? A busted duffel bag, a crying baby on the plane, and dormmates he never thought could exist in real life. Thrown into the chaos of Georgia Tech’s freshman year, Bharath begins an unforgettable journey of awkward first crushes and culture shocks. A slow-burn, emotionally rich harem romance set in the nostalgic 90s - full of laughter, lust, and longing.
Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa mt/ft mt/Fa Consensual Fiction Humor School Sharing Group Sex Harem Orgy Polygamy/Polyamory White Female Hispanic Female Indian Female
The streetlights blinked lazily to life along North Avenue, casting long shadows that danced playfully underfoot as the gang made their slow trek back towards campus. The mood hovered somewhere between disbelief and hilarity - voices tumbling over each other in a rush of excitement, confusion, and sheer incredulity.
“Alright, y’all,” LaTasha started, voice clear and authoritative as she threw a playful glare over her shoulder at the others. “I’m just gonna say what everyone’s thinkin’ - what in the actual fresh hell just happened back there?”
Jorge snorted loudly, barely able to contain his laughter. “You’re just now asking that? I’m still stuck on the part where Bharath - our Bharath - is some kind of secret campus Hugh Hefner. Like, when did this happen? How? Why?”
“Man,” Tyrel interrupted dramatically, gripping his chest as if having a spiritual moment, “Black Jesus himself is shook right now. Bharath was already some kinda next-level extraordinary. Now my boy out here leading a secret society of gorgeous goddesses? Insanity, absolute insanity.”
“I mean, we already knew about Sarah and Marisol,” Camila pointed out matter-of-factly, her voice tinged with playful offense, “but Mia? My bestie Mia? She hid this from me! That little traitor!”
“Oh, honey,” LaTasha teased, patting Camila’s shoulder consolingly, “we all saw you twitchin’ in that chair like someone stole your favorite lipstick. Mia didn’t just hide it - girl had you completely fooled.”
Camila pouted fiercely. “It’s not fair. I asked her straight to her face if she had a thing for Bharath, and she just batted those big innocent eyes and lied!”
“Innocent?” Jorge burst out, shaking his head vigorously. “Did we just see the same Mia? The same Mia who proposed matching tattoos saying ‘Property of Dom Papi Bharath’? Innocent my ass!”
The group dissolved into laughter again, stumbling slightly as they navigated the uneven sidewalk, their humor echoing through the quiet streets.
“Still,” Nandita mused softly, tugging at Ravi’s sleeve, “I just ... I can’t quite imagine it. Bharath is such a sweet, shy boy. Always polite, always blushing. How did he end up dominating Zara and Ayesha, of all people? They scared half the campus by just existing!”
“Yaar, true facts,” Ravi said emphatically, pushing his glasses up his nose in an exaggerated gesture of seriousness. “Those two were the literal definition of untouchable. Gorgeous but terrifying. And our sweet, nerdy Bharath just ... what, tames them with his voice? How is this reality?”
“Forget reality,” Tyrel declared, dramatically throwing his hands skyward, “this right here is straight-up MTV Real World-level drama. I half-expect to turn around and see cameras filming us right now.”
“Oh god,” Jorge said, looking suddenly horrified. “You don’t think someone’s gonna put this on that stupid Georgia Tech Confession Board thing, do you?”
“Oh, it’s definitely already there,” LaTasha said bluntly. “Probably with a million comments trying to figure out who the mysterious ‘Dom Papi Bharath’ is.”
Ravi paled visibly, his voice suddenly pitched with comic panic. “Wait - no, no, guys, that’s not funny! If my mom hears about this through some auntie’s gossip network, I’m finished. Done. Game over.”
Tyrel slung a comforting arm around Ravi’s shoulders, squeezing tight enough to make the shorter boy wheeze. “Don’t worry, Ravi-man. Auntie gossip networks ain’t that fast. You’ve got at least till next weekend before your mom knows your roommate is a legend.”
Camila grinned wickedly, elbowing Nandita conspiratorially. “Speaking of legends - did anyone else notice how absolutely glowing Ayesha looked? I’ve never seen her look like that before. I mean, girl was practically levitating.”
“Right?” LaTasha chimed in enthusiastically. “Same with Zara. They went from ice queens to giggling schoolgirls overnight. One second they’re glaring daggers, next they’re begging Bharath to do that deep, growly voice thing - whatever that is.”
“Please, LaTasha, spare us,” Jorge begged, clutching his chest theatrically. “My heart can’t take imagining Bharath growling. It’s unnatural. He’s supposed to lecture us about objects, not whisper sensual commands.”
“Yeah,” Ravi said earnestly, “it’s like picturing Clark Kent suddenly ripping open his shirt - but instead of Superman, you get some kinda ... sex wizard.”
“Sex wizard,” Tyrel echoed thoughtfully. “Now that has branding potential.”
The laughter rolled through them again, warm and bright, dispelling the slight chill in the evening air.
“Honestly, though,” Camila said softly, after a brief silence settled comfortably over them, “I’m happy for them. Even if Mia totally betrayed our sacred girl code by not telling me - she looks happy. Like, really happy.”
“Yeah,” LaTasha agreed quietly, “they all do. Zara and Ayesha - did y’all notice the look in their eyes? That’s genuine joy. Can’t fake that.”
“True,” Nandita nodded thoughtfully. “Bharath must really have something special. Beyond the ... you know, apparently god-tier bedroom skills.”
“God-tier,” Jorge repeated, shaking his head with mock solemnity. “I swear, after tonight, my dorm life will never be the same. Every time he smiles now, I’m gonna wonder - ‘is he smiling cause he’s nice, or did he just Dom Papi someone?’”
“Oh my god, Jorge, stop!” Camila shrieked, slapping his arm. “You are not allowed to say ‘Dom Papi’ anymore!”
“Seriously,” Tyrel laughed loudly, “Dom Papi is officially banned vocabulary. From now on, we speak of this only in code.”
“How about ‘studying’?” Ravi suggested earnestly. “Like, ‘Did you study with Bharath yesterday?’ and we all know exactly what that means.”
“Ugh,” LaTasha rolled her eyes dramatically, “you nerds would turn sex into homework. I can’t.”
“No,” Camila said firmly, lips twitching mischievously. “We’re using ‘Sacred Tuesday’ - but for everything. Even if it happens on Wednesday.”
“Sacred Tuesday on a Thursday,” Jorge said dramatically. “Time is an illusion when you’re Bharath, I guess.”
“And modesty,” Ravi added, grinning, “modesty is definitely an illusion.”
Tyrel clutched Ravi’s shoulder tightly, almost losing his balance in his laughter. “Preach, Ravi-man, preach! My boy Bharath tossed modesty out like yesterday’s pizza. Dude went full supernova.”
Camila, still playfully pouting, sighed dramatically. “I’m just saying, if Mia doesn’t tell me all the juicy details after this, I’m officially revoking her best-friend status.”
“Oh please,” LaTasha teased, “you know you’re just salty cause she got to Bharath first before you figured out she had a thing for him.”
“Maybe,” Camila admitted sheepishly, eyes twinkling mischievously. “Just a little bit.”
The group laughed again, their steps lighter now as the campus lights appeared ahead, brightening their path back towards reality.
“Alright,” Tyrel said loudly, halting dramatically at the entrance to the quad. “We have officially entered the Bharath Era. Mark it on your calendars. Tell your future kids. This night will live forever in infamy.”
“Infamy?” Ravi blinked, puzzled.
“Yes, Ravi,” Tyrel said solemnly, placing a hand over his heart. “Because tonight, innocence died. And from its ashes rose Dom Papi Bharath, conqueror of hearts, destroyer of modesty.”
“I thought those words weren’t in our vocabulary anymore,” asked Nandita.
“And henceforth, may Black Jesus smite me if I use them again!”
They laughed, shook their heads, and embraced the delightful absurdity as they stepped back onto campus grounds - forever changed, forever amused, and more connected than ever by the sheer chaotic brilliance of friendship and secrets too wild to ever forget.
They hadn’t even made it past the block when Camila suddenly slowed down and threw an arm across LaTasha and Nandita like she was stopping them from stepping into traffic.
“Wait.”
The boys ahead - Ravi, Tyrel, and Jorge - continued bantering, oblivious to the sudden halt behind them. Camila turned to her girls, a glint in her eyes that could only mean one thing.
“Oh no,” LaTasha said immediately, stepping back half a pace. “I know that look. That’s the same look you had before you convinced us to try tequila ice pops last week.”
Camila grinned wider. “And weren’t they delicious?”
“Girl, I ended up singing Jagged Little Pill to my econ professor,” LaTasha hissed. “On voicemail!”
“We’re not doing tequila pops,” Camila whispered conspiratorially, eyes flicking toward the boys. “This is better. What if - hear me out - we spy on them next Tuesday?”
Nandita’s eyes went wide. “Spy?! Like ... watch them do things?”
“I’m not saying we have to see everything,” Camila whispered, doing jazz hands for no reason. “Just enough to confirm if all this Sacred Tuesday stuff is legit or just exaggerated campus mythology.”
LaTasha made a strangled noise. “Cam, I love you, but I do not want my final memories to be of Bharath’s butt cheeks clapping in candlelight.”
Camila burst out laughing. “What?! You think they light candles? Is this a seance or a sex party?”
Nandita looked like she was trying to disappear inside her jacket. “This is so wrong. But also ... if it’s really happening ... I mean, shouldn’t we at least know the truth?”
Camila pointed dramatically. “That’s the spirit. For science.”
“For science,” LaTasha repeated with a sigh, already regretting her choices. “This is how people in horror movies die. We’re gonna peek through a window and get possessed by Dom Papi Bharath energy.”
Camila wheeled them around quickly, motioning for quiet. “Listen. We already know their pattern. Last week, Sarah and Marisol left after lunch with him looking all mushy together.”
“Exactly,” LaTasha said, practically vibrating. “So next Tuesday, we act like we don’t know anything. But the second we see all four girls leaving campus at once? It’s on. We move.”
“We set up outside Sarah’s house like undercover spies,” LaTasha added, catching the fever a little now. “Like Charlie’s Angels. Or low-budget Scooby-Doo.”
Nandita clapped a hand over her mouth. “But how do we not get caught?”
“That’s the fun part,” Camila said. “We plan the perfect recon op.”
Before they could expand on the idea, the boys finally noticed they were missing again.
“Hey!” Jorge shouted back. “Are we gonna need to put trackers on you?”
“Seriously,” Ravi added. “This is the third time tonight.”
“We’re just bonding,” Camila called back sweetly. “Girl things.”
Tyrel squinted. “Girl things or ... secret girl things?”
Camila said nothing - just smiled with infuriating innocence and strolled forward again.
But Jorge had a look on his face. “Wait. Wait. I know that smile. That’s the ‘we’re gonna do something insane and you can’t stop us’ smile. Ravi, confirm.”
Ravi adjusted his glasses, eyes narrowed. “Confirmed. My sister used to make that exact face before setting my He-Man toys on fire.”
Tyrel looked from one girl to the next. “What are y’all plannin’?”
LaTasha opened her mouth to deny it - then glanced at Camila, who raised a single eyebrow. LaTasha deflated. “We might’ve ... discussed an exploratory mission.”
“To see what really goes down on Sacred Tuesday,” Nandita added helpfully, then instantly regretted saying it.
The boys froze. In place. Like their systems were buffering.
“You’re gonna spy on them?!” Jorge whisper-screamed. “On purpose?! You realize what this could do to us?!”
“To us?” LaTasha blinked. “This isn’t your mission.”
“Oh yes it is,” Ravi muttered. “Because if you see something ... something traumatic... we’re the ones who will have to listen to your recovery monologues for the rest of the semester.”
“Yeah!” Tyrel pointed at the group dramatically. “What if y’all come back describing, like, sound effects and sweat droplets and ... and techniques?! I’m too young for that!”
Camila grinned. “But what if it’s beautiful?”
“NO!” all three boys shouted in unison.
Camila giggled uncontrollably. “Look, we’re just saying - it might be hot. And if it is, we might need ... you know ... some emotional support.”
She gave a slow, meaningful glance to the boys.
Ravi’s face combusted.
Tyrel gasped like he was in a soap opera.
Jorge staggered back and muttered, “I’m not ready.”
LaTasha and Nandita howled with laughter.
“Alright, alright,” Nandita said breathlessly. “But seriously - if we’re gonna pull this off, we need a real plan.”
Tyrel threw up both hands. “You are doing it?! Oh lord.”
Jorge rubbed his temples. “I need to breathe into a paper bag.”
“We can’t all crowd outside the house,” Camila reasoned, ignoring the boys’ dramatics. “Too obvious. So ... we split up.”
“Couples,” Nandita whispered. “Couples look normal. We’ll figure out all the vantage points.”
“Wait - who’s paired with who?” LaTasha asked, looking at the boys.
“I’m not spying with Jorge,” Ravi said immediately.
“Excuse me?” Jorge squawked. “I was gonna say the same thing! You’re the worst at stealth.”
“You wore that neon yellow hoodie last week,” Ravi hissed. “You’re like a traffic cone.”
Camila clapped. “Perfect! Jorge, you’re with me.”
Jorge turned slowly. “That’s not a reward, is it?”
She winked. “Depends how well you behave.”
Jorge opened and closed his mouth several times.
“LaTasha, you’re with Tyrel,” Camila continued. “Obviously. You’re the couple with the best improv game.”
Tyrel sighed but took LaTasha’s hand with mock elegance. “Fine. But if we die, I want you to know ... I always wanted to see Bharath get roasted on TechTV for this.”
“That leaves Nandita and Ravi,” Camila finished.
Ravi blinked. “Okay, but if anyone asks, we’re rehearsing for a student film.”
“Sure,” Nandita said kindly. “As long as you don’t faint again.”
“Don’t tempt fate.”
They turned back and glanced at Sarah’s house behind them - dim now, quiet, peaceful. You wouldn’t think that a den of chaos, worship, and thigh-shaking declarations resided behind those windows.
“Okay,” Camila whispered. “Let’s go check the scene. For logistics.”
“What, now?!” Jorge asked. “Like a ... dry run?”
LaTasha smirked. “You scared?”
“I’m terrified,” Jorge said proudly.
One by one, under cover of exaggerated stealth, they crept back to Sarah’s place like a troop of middle schoolers sneaking into a R rated movie.
Inside the backyard alley behind Sarah’s house...
“Okay, this bush has a solid view of the kitchen window,” Tyrel said, crouching behind a low hedge. “But it’s thorny. Bad for jeans.”
“I can see the living room from here,” Camila called softly from behind the mailbox. “And woah - Even fully clothed, it’s still hot.”
They peeked carefully - one by one - into the lit-up windows.
The harem was inside.
Mia was curled in Bharath’s lap like a cat. Sarah sat in front of him, legs tucked beside his, quietly fiddling with his fingers. Marisol had draped herself over the back of the couch, chin resting on his shoulder, humming something into his ear. Zara was sitting cross-legged on the floor, leaning against his knees like a sleepy kitten. Ayesha stood behind the couch, massaging his shoulders with a gentleness that felt reverent.
All fully dressed. All glowing. All wrapped around him like vines around a sunbeam.
Jorge let out a low whistle. “Lucky. Pende-”
“Language,” Nandita hissed, eyes still glued to the window.
“I didn’t even say it!” Jorge hissed back.
“Y’all! He doesn’t have a harem,” Tyrel said flatly. “He has a cult. A very well-moisturized cult.”
“They all look like they’re in a spa commercial,” Ravi whispered. “Like ‘get your skin and your soul touched by Bharath: Tech’s finest.’”
Camila sighed dramatically. “Okay, I get it now. I get it. If this is what Sacred Tuesday looks like ... I might need personal service myself.”
Nandita choked. “Camila!”
“What?” Camila said innocently. “I’m just saying. That couch? That man? That aura? It’s inspirational. Jorge better get ready.”
LaTasha fanned herself. “Girl, I was already sweating. Don’t push me over the edge. Tyrel you up to helping a sista out sugar?”
The boys short-circuited.
Ravi looked like he needed CPR.
Tyrel sat down hard on the grass. “I ain’t strong enough for this mission.”
Jorge whispered, “I’m gonna need a therapist. And not the campus kind. Like a real one with degrees and soft lighting.”
They stayed like that - just watching - as Bharath said something that made all the girls laugh in perfect sync, their bodies leaning closer like sunflowers to light.
Marisol kissed his jaw. Sarah kissed his knuckles. Zara stretched out on the floor, resting her head on his thigh. Ayesha ran her hands through his hair while Mia whispered something in his ear that made him grin.
No moaning. No nudity. No thunderclaps.
And yet...
It was the hottest thing any of them had ever seen.
“Okay,” Tyrel finally whispered, voice hoarse. “I believe in Sacred Tuesday now. I believe.”
“Faith restored,” Ravi croaked.
Jorge nodded solemnly. “This isn’t spying. This is witnessing a miracle.”
Camila glanced at them and laughed quietly. “We’ll never be the same again.”
“Nope,” LaTasha agreed. “But at least now we know.”
They crept away silently, hearts pounding, a little dazed, a little stunned.
The legend was real.
And next Tuesday?
They’d be back.
Mission: Spy on Sacred Tuesday commenced.
The quad at night had a way of softening everything. The clamor of campus life - the hum of vending machines, the laughter spilling out of dorm lounges, the honk of a distant car on North Avenue - was muted here, swallowed by the heavy hush that settled between lamplight and shadow.
The group walked slowly now, steps unhurried, like they weren’t quite ready to break the spell of the night. Leaves rustled underfoot, the scent of wet bark and distant honeysuckle lacing the crisp November air. They’d left Sarah’s house less than ten minutes ago, but it already felt like a memory - something too magical to believe had really happened.
They didn’t talk right away.
Not because there was nothing to say, but because none of them wanted to be the first to puncture the delicate quiet holding them all in the same breath.
It was Camila who finally spoke, her voice as soft as the night.
“I’ve never seen Mia like that before.”
LaTasha, walking on her right, turned toward her. “Like what, baby?”
Camila’s eyes flicked upward at the bell tower as it peeked through branches. “Like ... herself.”
Tyrel, trailing just behind, tossed a curious glance their way. “Ain’t Mia always been Mia, though?”
“Sí, but that wasn’t the usual Mia,” Camila said, wrapping her arms across her chest as a breeze picked up. “She wasn’t putting on a show. No makeup. No one-liners. Just ... curled up like a little cat, humming, holding on to Bharath like he was home.”
Jorge nodded slowly beside her. “Damn. She looked like she was dreaming while wide awake.”
“She looked like she belonged,” Nandita added softly from Camila’s other side.
“She did,” Camila echoed. “They all did.”
They drifted toward the low retaining wall near the old mechanical engineering building - where lights cast long shadows across the quad. Nobody said to stop walking, but they all paused just the same.
“I used to think Zara was made of ice,” Nandita said suddenly, half-laughing at her own memory. “Like those actresses in old Hindi films who walk in slow motion while everyone else fades to the background.”
“Please,” Ravi muttered. “She walked down the cafeteria steps like she owned the whole semester.”
“She still kinda does,” Tyrel offered.
“True,” Nandita agreed. “But tonight? She looked soft. Like ... she let herself melt a little.”
“She smiled in her eyes,” Camila said. “Not just with her lips.”
“And Ayesha,” LaTasha said, folding her arms, “that girl used to walk around like she was doing everybody a favor by existing.”
Jorge winced. “She scared the hell outta me during that group project intro.”
“But now?” LaTasha shook her head, half-smiling. “Now she looks like she ain’t runnin’. From anyone. Especially herself.”
There was a hum of agreement in the air. No one spoke for a few steps.
Then Ravi murmured, “That’s Bharath. That’s what he does.”
Jorge tilted his head. “What, rewires their personalities?”
“No, re-centers them,” Ravi said. “Like, makes them believe they don’t have to be perfect to be wanted.”
LaTasha nodded slowly. “He lets ‘em be whole, flaws and all.”
Camila turned to Jorge. “When you first met him, did you ever think he’d end up like this?”
Jorge exhaled. “The first week, he blushed when the dining hall TV showed a music video with belly dancing.”
Ravi snorted. “He nearly fell off the couch when Marisol hugged him from behind during that Diwali prep session.”
“But he never tried to be someone else,” Jorge said. “That’s the thing. He didn’t fake confidence. He didn’t chase clout. He just ... was.”
“Dios mío,” Camila said quietly, “and that was enough.”
Tyrel crossed his arms. “He real brave for it. Lotta folks talk about love, but they play it safe. Bharath? Man went and built a damn constellation. A whole solar system with himself at the center.”
“That’s the part I respect,” Ravi said, looking down at his shoes. “He didn’t just ‘get the girls.’ He earned them. Loved them until they bloomed.”
“Made them safe,” Nandita added. “You can’t bloom unless you feel safe.”
“Same for us too, nah?” Camila said, glancing at Jorge with a smile.
Jorge’s gaze softened. “You bloomed the second I said ‘te quiero.’ And you haven’t stopped since.”
Camila beamed and nudged his arm playfully.
Tyrel looked at LaTasha with a raised brow. “And you? You bloomin’?”
She smirked and linked her fingers with his. “Sugar, I’ve been bloomin’ since the day you dragged me into that gospel brunch and introduced me to your entire family in the same afternoon.”
“I like a strong openin’,” Tyrel said proudly.
“I was sweatin’ bullets, Tyrel,” she laughed. “You brought me to your grandma’s house and she asked if I believed in holy water or the real thing.”
“And you said both,” Tyrel grinned. “You charmed the whole room.”
LaTasha’s face turned thoughtful. “That’s what today felt like. Like walkin’ into a room where nobody’s judgin’, even when the love don’t look like what folks expect.”
Jorge tilted his head. “Man. That’s the best damn definition I’ve heard all day.”
Nandita leaned into Ravi’s side a little. “We’re lucky too, you know. Maybe we didn’t need Sacred Tuesdays. But we’ve got our own rhythm.”
“Yup,” Ravi said. “It’s called shared chai and watching Antakshari videos at midnight.”
“And fighting over whether dosa or idli is superior.”
“Dosa,” Ravi said immediately.
“I was testing you,” she replied with a grin.
Camila glanced at them. “You ever think ... maybe we’re all doing this part right already?”
“What part?” Jorge asked.
“This whole ... love thing,” she said. “Maybe we were so busy being stunned by Bharath that we forgot - we’ve got love too. Just quieter. Less ... harem-y.”
“And with less aerobic activity,” Jorge muttered.
“Speak for yourself,” Tyrel coughed.
LaTasha elbowed him. “Boy, hush. Not in front of the class.”
They all laughed again - easy now, warmer.
Then Camila’s voice softened. “Let’s just promise something.”
“What’s that?” Nandita asked.
“That we hold on tight to what we’ve got. That we don’t take it for granted. And if we ever need more, we ask. Loud and honest.”
There was a long beat.
“I promise,” LaTasha said.
“Same,” Nandita echoed, squeezing Ravi’s hand.
“You know I’m in,” Jorge said, touching Camila’s shoulder.
Tyrel looked around and tipped an invisible hat. “Y’all are some sentimental fools tonight. But ... yeah. Me too.”
The wind rustled the trees overhead. Somewhere off near the student center, a distant voice shouted something unintelligible. Life was still moving on around them - but something about their world had shifted.
“Y’all,” LaTasha said quietly, “we’re part of somethin’ rare. It don’t have to look like Bharath’s world. It can be our own thing. But what matters is - it’s real. And we’re in it. Together.”
“Like family,” Tyrel added.
“Exactly,” she said.
They stood like that a little longer - just soaking in the quiet, the night, the unspoken promise that they’d carry this forward.
They couldn’t see Sarah’s house from here, not really. But in their minds, they could still picture the scene: the six of them in a tangle of limbs and laughter, the girls draped over Bharath like he was a bonfire they all needed to survive winter. It was madness. It was joy. It was terrifying and beautiful and more honest than anything they’d seen in a long time.
And they weren’t jealous anymore.
They were inspired.
As the group slowly resumed their walk, Jorge glanced sideways at Ravi and whispered, “Still don’t think I’m cut out for five women.”
“Just keep one happy first, bhai,” Ravi said, grinning.
“Working on it,” Jorge replied, as Camila slid her arm through his.
“Let’s head back,” Tyrel said. “I think we’ve been emotionally expanded enough for one night.”
“But expanded with flavor,” Camila added dramatically.
“Like naan with cheese,” Nandita said, and everyone groaned.
Together, they walked on - hearts full, feet lighter, and love, in all its messy forms, blooming right under the Georgia Tech stars.
Meanwhile, a little bit later, back at Sarah’s house, the lamp on the study table cast a soft glow over the dining nook, now transformed into a cozy tutoring fortress. Laptops were open, notebooks sprawled across the wooden surface, pencils and highlighters forming little chaotic armies between problem sets. Mia sat cross-legged, chewing thoughtfully on the cap of her pen as Bharath leaned over her notes.
“Okay, you got that one right,” he said, smiling. “That’s solid. But double-check the units - this one’s in meters, not centimeters.”
Mia grinned and nodded, her hair tied back in a high ponytail. “Gracias, profe.”
From the couch, Marisol and Sarah sat watching, arms folded, expressions warm with amusement. They weren’t part of the tutoring session tonight, at least not directly. But they weren’t far either - content to lounge, observe, and occasionally correct a formula or two when the mood struck.
Just then, Ayesha and Zara padded in from the hallway, both in Bharath’s t-shirts, still glowing faintly from the evening’s events.
“Look what the cat dragged in,” Sarah said with a smile.
“Two troublemakers,” Marisol chimed in.
Zara flopped into the beanbag next to Mia. “Hey, I resemble that remark.”
Ayesha sprawled beside her, cracking her knuckles. “What’s the damage tonight?”
Bharath arched an eyebrow. “Funny you should ask.”
Zara immediately sat up straighter. “Oh?”
Bharath folded his arms. “You two have only got Bs in the last three homework assignments for Calc. I heard Professor Chen talk about it to his TAs in class last week.”
Ayesha winced. “Ugh. Busted.”
Zara groaned. “Responsible Papi’s got sources.”
Mia giggled. “You’re in trouble now.”
But Bharath’s voice wasn’t stern - just deeply disappointed. “You’re better than this. I know things have been ... intense lately. But school doesn’t go away because we’re in love.”
Marisol and Sarah exchanged a glance, both clearly impressed by his gentle firmness.
“I’m not mad,” he continued. “But I care about you both too much to let you crash and burn. You’ve got too much potential for that.”
Mia giggled, “I warned you about Responsible Papi.”
Ayesha sighed. “I’m trying. It’s just ... psych is easy to me, but calculus feels like brain-surgery upside down.”
Zara added, “And I’m still technically undeclared. I’ve been floating. But yeah, okay - we could use some help.”
“You’ll get it,” Bharath said simply. “Starting tonight.”
Zara smirked. “We were kinda hoping for a Dom Papi study boost anyway.”
“Yeah,” Ayesha grinned. “Thought maybe you’d command us into understanding derivatives.”
“You want me to dominate you into academic excellence?” he deadpanned.
“Yup,” Zara said without shame. “I retain better when aroused.”
Mia choked on her juice. Sarah shook her head fondly. “You two are incorrigible.”
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