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Chapter Text

Well, this isn’t awkward at all, thinks Bruno, as he and his three new roommates all stand around, surrounded by the detritus of move-in day.

The four of them will be living together for the next year – at least - so it’s important that they get along.

Which likely requires them to find something or the other to bond over.

One of Bruno’s roommates, Miguel, whom he’s actually sharing a bedroom with, is also from the Greater NYC area and seems to be a nerd too, which Bruno thinks is a pretty good start.

His other two roommates, Kamran and Kareem, appear to already be friends, which is also a start.

They’re from Karachi, Pakistan, and have come over to the US for college.

Making friends is not Bruno’s strong suit.

(Kamala was the one who decided they’d be best friends, forever.)

(She kinda dragged/kidnapped him into becoming her best friend, not that it was against his will. At all.)

(KK sometimes – well, more accurately, often - resembles a very small but very determined hurricane.)

Still, Bruno holds up his phone and smiles. It’s probably a little awkward, but as Kamala loves to say, there is no normal.

‘There’s, uh, a halal pizza place in town, but they don’t deliver here…’

(Look, they’re teenage boys, okay?)

(Pizza is a pretty safe bet.)

(Yeah, that’s an understatement.)

Kamran smiles back at him. It’s surprisingly earnest, and also surprisingly, a touch awkward too.

‘I’ve got a car…’

-

Kamran has a Porsche.

-

As they sit around a table at the pizza place, Kareem reaches for another slice, causing Kamran to look at him.

Kareem arches an eyebrow, then sighs a little, tone dry, wry.

‘There are some good American things.’

-

‘…no, we’re not playing poker, man.’

Miguel and Bruno exchange a glance as Kamran crosses his arms and says that insistently when Kareem makes an innocuous suggestion.

(At least, the suggestion seems innocuous.)

(Bruno’s not quite sure; Kareem seems to have a very enigmatic, mysterious air.)

Kamran continues, gesturing at Kareem as he addresses the other two.

‘He cheats.’ Kamran pauses. ‘I don’t know how, but he does.’

‘It is not cheating, brother-‘

‘-yeah, because of some loophole or the other you’ve found, man!’

Bruno and Miguel exchange another glance.

(Kamran and Kareem call each other brother in a way that seems to mean more than their shared faith.)

(And they certainly act like it too.)

Miguel speaks up.

‘How about Mario Kart?’

-

‘…hate to break it to you, KK, but yeah…’ As Bruno laughs, Kareem exchanges a knowing look with Miguel as the two of them wait by the door, along with Kamran, who is checking Google Maps on his phone. There’s a loud female voice coming out of Bruno’s phone, just loud enough for them to hear, but not to make out the exact words. ‘…I’ll do the math later, promise…and translate it for you.’ Bruno’s tone and expression has turned dryly teasing. ‘Again, it’s not calculus, KK. Anyway, I gotta go, we’re getting prank war supplies…I’ll say hi.’

He smiles at whatever this KK says on the other end, soft and fond, before hanging up and turning to them.

Kareem looks even more knowingly at Miguel, who smiles wryly and nods back, just as knowing. He then smiles at Bruno, knowing it is almost a smirk, gesturing with his head at Bruno’s phone.

‘Your girlfriend?’

Bruno shakes his head too quickly, too vehemently.

‘No, no, uh, KK’s my best friend.’ He raises a hand to rub the back of his neck, but catches himself before he can and lowers it. Well, Kareem thinks dryly, at least he is somewhat aware. ‘She says hi?’

-

‘…you speak Urdu?’

Kamran stares at Bruno, who is in the middle of building a confetti cannon for their building’s prank war.

He and Kareem were grumbling about yesterday’s dinner in the dining hall; Bruno had smiled at just the right time and snorted, seemingly involuntarily.

Currently, he’s looking a bit sheepish. Meanwhile, Kimo is smirking, which means he knew, he just didn’t bother to tell Kamran, because Kimo likes his little jokes and being the smartest guy in the room.

Bruno rubs the back of his neck with a hand. A couple pieces of confetti land in his hair.

‘Yeah, um, my best friend, Kamala, is Pakistani, well, Pakistani-American, and I spent a lot of time at her family’s place growing up, so…’

Bruno raises a shoulder, like learning your best friend’s family’s native language because you spent a lot of time at their house growing up is no big deal.

(Kamran learned several languages as a child, because his mother had insisted. Hired tutors for him.)

(It hadn’t been easy.)

Kamran supposes that Bruno is a genius.

-

Kareem receives a text with a useful observation from Miguel.

(Miguel is very observant, perhaps surprisingly so.)

(He has a tendency to go unnoticed, to fade into the background. As such, he is able to see far more than anyone would expect.)

(Miguel had commented to Kareem the other day that this effect is amplified by the fact that he has the three of them as roommates. Bruno is a genius of the kind rarely seen even at elite academic institutions. Kamran is uncommonly handsome and fit, according to many of their female – and some of their male – classmates, and he owns a Porsche. Kareem is told he is very charming.)

(Miguel had said that without a trace of resentment or ego, just good humour and a wry acknowledgement of the usefulness of such a trait, which, Kareem knows, is also uncommon.)

This useful observation allows him to text Kamran to trigger the confetti cannon in three minutes.

The dorm prank war is in full swing, and Kareem plays to win.

-

A photo taken by Kamran Shah, put in his roommate group chat, and subsequently texted by Bruno Carrelli to his best friend, Kamala Khan:

The photo shows the aftermath of a test run of Bruno’s confetti cannon. Bruno has confetti in his hair and has his face stuck in the end of the cannon, examining its innards. Kareem’s hair is full of confetti and he has a rather dissatisfied expression on his face as he attempts to remove it. Miguel is laughing and brushing confetti off himself, while stepping out of the way of VacBot (Bruno’s knockoff Roomba) as it starts its work.

-

Kamala: [Five laughing-crying emojis]

DYING

Bruno you gotta make yourself an Iron Man suit for next AvengerCon

But instead of repulsor cannons, do confetti ones!!

Bruno: [three dots, indicating typing]

Kamala: come on you know you can do it, you a super-genius or what?

Bruno: yeah, getting confetti everywhere is gonna go down very well

Kamala: …

see told you so

that’s why ur the genius

It’s better than glitter?

-

‘What a shot!’

‘Mashallah…’

Cricket is a really weird sport.

Miguel concludes that as his three roommates excitedly cheer as one of the Pakistani players hits the ball over the fence, which isn’t a home run, it’s a six.

Bruno, Kamran and Kareem have been explaining the sport to him – with varying degrees of clarity – as they watch this T20 cricket match between Pakistan and Sri Lanka.

‘Six runs an over from here.’

‘We can do that!’

‘Especially if Rizwan keeps playing shots like that…’

Miguel doesn’t really understand what’s going on.

He smiles wryly and reaches for the bag of pretzels, grabbing a large handful for himself.

-

‘…a new lifeform for you to study?’

Kareem smiles, nearly a smirk, at Bruno as the four of them crowd into their bathroom, studying the slimy, mould-like substance that has taken up residence in their grout lines that they are having no luck removing.

One third of Bruno considers the possibility with great interest. One third seems certain that the organism is already well-studied. One third appears to think that this lifeform may be too dangerous to leave alive.

-

A couple of hours later, Kareem and Kamran are throwing out the very dirtied towels – and the now very disgusting contents of a bucket – they had used for cleaning off that slimy lifeform, while Miguel finishes wiping down the bathroom tile, and Bruno puts away their cleaning supplies (both the ones they had previously owned, and the ones they have just purchased).

Bruno is also talking to his best friend Kamala’s mother, whom he had suggested they call for advice, which had turned out to be a very good idea.

‘…thanks, Mrs K…I am eating, Mrs K…no, not just ramen…dining hall food is, err, fine?’ A pause. ‘Yeah, Kamala’s sent me pictures…oh, you don’t have to…thanks, Mrs K.’

Kamran and Kareem exchange a look. Kareem arches a brow slightly, smirking a little, while Kamran grins.

Bruno, Kareem thinks, has an ammi. Or, at least, a very close and maternal auntie.

Or, perhaps, a mother-in-law, no?

Bruno hangs up, and addresses the room in general as Miguel emerges from the bathroom, a wry but fond smile on his face.

‘We’re getting a care package.’

-

Several days later, a large box containing barfi, chaat mix, a tasty trail mix of nuts and dried fruit and roasted chickpeas, instant porridge, a handful of toffees and an excellent chai mixture arrives, addressed to Bruno and his roommates.

-

The four of them collapse into seats after their first set of midterms, all digging into the gyros that Miguel picked up after his last exam.

(Miguel, Bruno thinks, is what Kamala would gleefully and teasingly call a Mom Friend.)

Kareem smiles, and opens his can of soda, before raising it like a toast.

‘We all pass, inshallah!’

They all tap their soda cans together, before taking a drink. Miguel smiles, a little wryly. Kamran looks like he’s murmuring inshallah in his mind, slightly worried.

-

‘…is that Kamala?’

Kamran says that one afternoon, pointing at Bruno’s laptop background, which seems to be new. It’s a photo of him (dressed in his typical flannel, this one red and orange check, over a plain T-shirt) and a brown girl who looks younger than they are, wearing a bright purple T-shirt with superhero cartoons in a bold art style on it (said superheroes look vaguely familiar to Kamran; he’s seen them on Bruno’s Marvel Comics posters) and a green army jacket with superhero badges on it. She has a wide, bright grin.

Kamran’s roommate nods. He can’t seem to help but smile a little.

Honestly, Kamran thinks, he doesn’t think Bruno can be blamed for his giant and very obvious crush. Kamala’s pretty cute.

-

Honestly.

Kareem realises that his brother is not as observant as he is. Nor as observant as Miguel is.

Still, Kamran is not a fool (most of the time), despite what Najma would call him.

This is clearly an instance in which his brother is a fool.

Honestly.

He thinks that Bruno simply has a crush on Kamala.

Kareem does not think he has ever seen a man more obviously, utterly, totally head-over-heels in love.

-

‘…thanks, man, I owe you one.’

Kamran looks up from his chemistry homework, which finally makes sense after a tutoring session from Bruno. Bruno smiles, shrugs a shoulder a teeny bit awkwardly and gestures nebulously.

‘Don’t worry about it, it’s good practice…’ His expression turns wry and self-deprecating. ‘…and I was kinda bored.’

Boredom, they’ve all learned, results in Bruno doing…interesting…things.

Their confetti cannon got upgraded last week because Bruno was bored, despite being decommissioned as the prank war is long over. He and Kareem had come back from the gym to find Bruno somewhat frantically and sheepishly cleaning up confetti that’d gotten everywhere.

The week before that, their tea kettle received an upgrade. There was the equivalent of three pots of chai on the counter when Miguel got home from the library, according to the photo in their group chat. Bruno had drunk most of the first pot already, and filled most of their glasses, mugs and bowls.

(He’d washed up all the dishes after they’d all drunk their fill of chai.)

And the week before that, Bruno disassembled and somehow improved his VacBot using bits scavenged from a toaster that he found in the trash. The other two-thirds of the toaster had sat in the corner next to Bruno’s bed until yesterday; none of them had been sure if it was a new invention of Bruno’s or a junk pile.

(The upgraded VacBot had been very helpful in cleaning up the confetti.)

(Kamran also appreciates the fact that it means there are fewer strands of Kareem’s hair everywhere in their room.)

(It’d also been useful when he hadn’t realized that he hadn’t shut the lid of his laundry powder properly – Kamran is adjusting to doing his own laundry; he’d had to YouTube it, rather embarrassingly.)

Bruno’s kinda a mad scientist, but at least he’s a responsible, considerate mad scientist too?

Still, it’s probably a good thing to try and keep Bruno not-bored.

Kamran would think that college would do it, but he supposes that when you’re a genius of the kind that Bruno is, Freshman year of college is a breeze.

-

It occurs to Kamran later, chemistry homework now complete, that maybe that’s why Bruno has a job, tutoring other students: to keep himself from getting bored.

It hadn’t made any sense to Kamran; Bruno’s a Stark Foundation Scholar. He’s got a full ride, all expenses paid, for the four years, as well as a small allowance to fund trips home during breaks.

Then again, Bruno seems to also value the money he gets from his job. It seems to go to his family; he’d mentioned something about saving it to buy birthday gifts (and maybe Eid gifts too?), and maybe to help his nonna out?

Kamran thinks Bruno is poor.

He supposes he could ask Bruno why he bothers working, but it makes him feel very uncomfortable, well-aware of his wealth, and…jealous, he thinks.

Bruno might not have much money, but he’s got a family that he loves so much (and seems to love him just as much). Even if he never mentions his parents.

Miguel has regular video chats with his family, and seems to be in frequent text contact with his younger siblings.

Bruno and Kamala have regular video chats and seem to be in contact practically 24/7, and Bruno calls his nonna regularly, and Kamala’s parents check in with him too.

(They receive regular care packages now. They contain far more than Bruno could be expected to reasonably eat, as Kamala’s mom is that kind of ammi. The last one had contained several Hostess Cherry Pies, which for some reason, had made Bruno laugh and say that Mr Khan must have taken this one to the post office.)

Kareem calls Faizaan and his friends from Karachi all the time too. They even bring him on video chat to their beach bonfires sometimes.

(It’s a ridiculous sentiment instigated by Faizaan that Kimo nonetheless goes along with; Kamran knows he’s very touched, even if he quips and teases and smirks at his friends.)

Kamran doesn’t have anyone to call.

(Kareem says he is welcome to join his calls; Faizaan and the others always ask about him, apparently, but…)

Kamran sighs, and decides to go to the gym for a good workout.

He always feels better after one of those.

-

(Money is money.)

(Kamran’s got more of it than he could ever use, despite how much of Ammi’s assets had been confiscated by the government, for being proceeds of crime.)

(But a family – a real family, that loves you for you, not for what you can do for them, for being their son and heir?)

(That’s a real treasure. The most precious of all.)

(And one that he doesn’t think he’ll ever have.)

(He doesn’t deserve such a precious treasure.)

-

Next time they go out for pizza, Kamran tosses his keys to Bruno, gestures for him to drive. Bruno blinks at him in surprise.

(He knows that Bruno wouldn’t take payment for help with chemistry. Or math. Or biology.)

(They’re friends.)

(But at the same time…)

(…it doesn’t stop Kamran from feeling like he owes him.)

(Kamran’s never wanted for money in his life, but…)

(…kindness and generosity are rare treasures, too.)

-

When they walk into the party, Kamran is soon drawn into a group of his friends, though Miguel notes that unlike them, for obvious reasons, Kamran isn’t holding a red Solo cup. Kareem slips off and makes his way through the party crowd, stopping occasionally to chat to someone or the other that he’s quite possibly never met. He returns a while later with a couple cans of Pepsi for himself and Kamran, handing one to his brother before striking up a conversation with a group of sorority sisters.

Miguel, however, decides that it’s probably a good idea to stick with Bruno.

Bruno is really not a party kind of guy.

(Honestly, none of them are, for different reasons.)

He’s an even bigger nerd than Miguel – which is really saying something – and he’s seemed generally uncomfortable ever since they came to the party.

Thus, Miguel decides to hover.

(Yeah, he’s the Mom Friend.)

(It’s not exactly cool to be the Mom Friend, but he doesn’t care, because looking out for your friends is far more important.)

(Besides, Miguel’s never gonna be charming or cool or smooth, and he doesn’t care about that either.)

(He does his best to be a good person, to do good deeds and fight for what is right and bend the world towards Justice, and that’s what’s important.)

(Besides, he’s a giant nerd, but life’s pretty darn good.)

(He’s got great roommates. Great friends.)

Hovering turns out to be an even better decision when someone tries to sell Bruno some beer. It makes Bruno look even more uncomfortable, and it’s certainly not just because they’re underage and Bruno is a lawful good mad scientist (as Kamala apparently describes him, anyway), or the impact of being partially raised by Muslims (as far as Miguel can tell).

Bruno rubs the back of his neck with a hand when the rather drunk wannabe beer seller finally leaves him alone, and Miguel gestures with his head towards the door.

‘Hey, bro, wanna get out of here and get some shawarma?’

He smiles, a little wryly and teasingly, at the end of that question. It makes Bruno smile a little too, and nod, releasing a breath.

Miguel pulls out his phone to text Kamran and Kareem – they’ve lost sight of them; there’s a lot of people here – to ask if they want shawarma too, before starting to walk outside to wait.

Bruno follows him, seeming more relieved than anything.

-

(Everyone needs a Mom Friend.)

-

Bruno is a little surprised that Kamran and Kareem ditch the party with him and Miguel to go get shawarma.

Kareem obviously sees the surprise on his face and dryly comments that American movies did not exaggerate too much about the den of all things haram that is a college party.

Kamran just shrugs, and says he’s kinda hungry. He seems to relax a bit when they sit down to dig into their shawarma at the rickety linoleum tables.

Bruno, for one, thinks that the second half of their evening is far better than the first.

(Yeah, look, low bar.)

(And it’s really good shawarma.)

(He’s pretty sure this place could get Kamala Khan’s seal of approval.)

-

‘…wanna talk about it?’

Miguel leans over and asks Bruno that quietly, gently, after they’ve polished off most of their shawarma, while Kareem is teasing Kamran about his not-so-little Great British Bake-Off habit.

Bruno huffs out a breath.

He doesn’t like talking about his parents.

In fact, he didn’t talk about his parents, really, until a summer’s day on the Circle-Q roof just before his and KK’s Junior year of high school. It’d been the anniversary of the day his parents left, and Kamala had looked at him and asked, what’s wrong? Bruno, you know you can tell me anything?, and then the entire story had just fallen out of him.

He’d told Kamala the entire story, in one sitting.

(Something no-one else has ever been told.)

(CPS and Nonna and the therapist he saw as a kid had had to draw it out of him, bit by bit.)

Since then, he’s talked about them a little bit more.

With Kamala.

With Nonna.

(Though, not often, at all. It’s painful, hard, brings back terrible memories for Nonna too, whenever they talk about – or talk around – his father.)

(Bruno’s just glad that the way his parents’ genes combined, he doesn’t really look much like either of them individually. Especially his father.)

(He’s so very grateful that he doesn’t remind Nonna of her son, and thus what he said, what he did, before walking out of her life.)

Bruno’s even talked about his parents a couple times with Mr and Mrs Khan. And once with Aamir, somewhat obliquely.

But never with his roommates. His friends, now. Good friends, somehow.

He’s sure they’ve all noticed that he never mentions parents, just Nonna and the Khans (Kareem and Miguel are very observant), but no-one’s ever brought it up.

Bruno fiddles a little with the wrapper of his sandwich, before taking a deep breath and giving a little nod. He also waits for Kamran and Kareem to cease trading good-natured teasing, and speaks a little louder than Miguel did, so they can hear too.

‘My parents, uh, aren’t around anymore.’ His inner Kamala – almost as expressive as the real version – pokes him, and declares, Bruno, you can’t just say they aren’t around anymore! He takes another breath, staring at the halal certification poster next to the counter between Kamran and Kareem’s shoulders. ‘They, um, they left when I was seven.’ Another breath. ‘They were worse than they drank.’

Bruno takes another breath, and makes himself focus on his friends again.

Miguel puts an arm around him for a side-hug, patting his shoulder.

Kamran looks at him with great sympathy…and, if Bruno’s reading him properly, understanding.

(Like he knows.)

(Kamran never mentions a family either.)

‘I’m sorry, man.’

There’s understanding in the way that Kamran says that too.

Kareem looks between him and Kamran for a beat (which makes Bruno conclude that his hypothesis is a lot more likely to be true), then goes up to the counter and buys another serve of fries, which he puts down in the middle of their table.

Bruno manages to smile a little at his friends, nods in thanks, and takes some of the fries.

The other three just nod and smile a little back at him. Miguel gives his shoulder one last comforting pat, and conversation turns to teasing Kamran about the girls who’d been talking to him – with great enthusiasm – before they’d left the party.

Kareem smirks and leans back in his chair, holding a single, very long fry.

‘…we all know which lady truly holds your heart, brother, she is parked outside!’

With that, Kareem eats his fry, as Kamran reaches out to punch his brother – fairly lightly – in the bicep.

Kareem dodges, of course.

-

Bruno takes a deep breath as he closes the lid of his laptop, after finally introducing Kamala to his roommates over video chat.

(She’s been enthusiastically and repeatedly asking when she finally gets to meet his new BFFs for weeks.)

(It’s Kamala.)

Frankly, he should’ve known this would happen.

Everyone finds Kamran very handsome and Kareem very charming. Especially girls.

And Kamala is Kamala Khan.

She has a very expressive face.

(She didn’t say anything, won’t say anything – hopefully – but it’s very obvious. Even with Bruno’s occasionally-questionable social skills.)

(Besides, if there’s anyone he can read well, it’s KK.)

Bruno huffs out a breath that probably is a sigh and turns around. Kamran winces a little, looking very awkward. Kareem nods in a way that seems like an elegant apology.

Both of them pat his shoulder sympathetically.

(Yeah, look, he knows. He’s very obvious.)

(Bruno’s learned, over the last couple months, living with Miguel and Kamran and Kareem who have all worked out his big secret, that the feeling he occasionally gets, that Mr Khan knows? That feeling is almost-certainly correct, Mr K almost-certainly knows, he just somehow doesn’t care and/or simply hasn’t yet thought it necessary to give him a don’t-get-ideas-about-my-daughter talk.)

(If Mr Khan knows, then Mrs Khan probably knows and Aamir probably does too, because of the Khan family gossip train. Unless Mr Khan is doing him a solid, because Bruno keeps the Hostess Cherry Pies secret for him.)

(And that means that either the Khans don’t mind – are okay with it, or even approve – or they think it’s impossible that Kamala feels the same way or ever will, and thus no talk is necessary.)

(Bruno tries not to think too much about that. It’s either far too much hope – surely unrealistic, surely him projecting – or just depressing.)

Sometimes, Bruno thinks, allowing himself a moment of melodramatic moping, being unrequitedly in love with your best friend really, really, really sucks.

He takes another deep breath in and out as he goes to put his laptop away.

It’s stupid and petty and selfish, these feelings of jealousy.

Kamran and Kareem are great guys.

(They’re also everything he’s not.)

Besides, whoever Kamala likes – or doesn’t like – is her choice.

If she decides she likes either of them and they like her too…it’s great. They’re all great.

Great.

Yeah.

Bruno decides to allow himself another moment of melodramatic, selfish, petty, jealous moping.

(He’s a teenager, okay?)

(And look, he thinks it’s pretty justified in this situation.)

Welcome to my life.

-

One night, Bruno is up after everyone else has gone to sleep, working on the Zuzu smartwatch he’s making for Kamala.

He’s recently purchased the base smartwatch, having saved up enough money from his tutoring job, and is now working on all of the changes he’s making to it, as well as the custom code for this version of Zuzu.

(Kamala’s trying really hard – she is Kamala Khan – but she has organizational problems; she’s easily distracted and can be a bit of a mess sometimes, and forgets things or gets mixed up about things that are important, things that matter to her. This is not helped by her tendency to bite off more than she can chew on her own.)

(It frustrates her.)

(It frustrates her especially badly when it makes her screw up and hurt him or her family when she doesn’t mean to do that at all. Would never, never ever, never ever ever mean to.)

(She’s been using phone reminders and calendars with a little help from the Khan family Zuzu ever since Junior year of high school, when things had kinda come to a head.)

(She’s doing better – she’s Kamala Khan, she’d declared she would after Junior year – but college has given her more things to organize and remember and keep on task with.)

(KK’s been ranting to him about how argh!!! it is, about how she’s a mess and a disaster.)

(Kamala’s not a mess or a disaster.)

(Well, most of the time, anyway. Everyone their age is sometimes a mess or a disaster. Bruno’s pretty sure grown-ups are too.)

(But in this particular case, with this particular problem? He can help.)

Bruno looks up, surprised, when Kamran and Kareem’s door opens, and the former shuffles out, running a hand over his short hair.

-

He and Bruno stare at each other, somewhat awkwardly, for a beat. Kamran gestures at the smartwatch that Bruno is painstakingly doing something to.

‘Uh, project with a deadline?’

Kamran’s friend smiles wryly.

‘Pretty much.’ That smile softens, widens. ‘It’s a gift for Kamala…’ Bruno’s smile shifts wry again. ‘…and the sooner I get this to her, the better.’ He pauses, expression turning serious. He stares over Kamran’s shoulder for a beat, before managing eye contact. (They’ve learned that Bruno can’t always manage eye contact, especially if he feels awkward or uncomfortable.) ‘You alright, man?’

Kamran stares at him for a beat too, before sighing and flopping down in the chair opposite Bruno.

‘Had a nightmare.’ He swallows, and is silent for a beat, before he continues. (Bruno’s hinted. More than hinted. He understands, because he lived it too.) ‘I…I was back in my ammi’s house.’

Bruno looks at him. Kamran hadn’t realized he’s put down his tools.

‘I’m sorry.’ Kamran nods, because he doesn’t know what to say or how to say it. After a long, somewhat awkward silence, Bruno gets up and starts making some chai. ‘How long has it been?’

Kamran stares at the smartwatch Bruno was working on. It has a bright blue body and a bright red band. There’s a geometric sketch on a piece of graph paper sitting next to it, a yellow star.

It takes him until Bruno comes back with two mugs of chai to find his voice.

‘Little over a year.’ He pauses, looks up at the other man, almost imploringly. Almost desperately. (He ignores the sharp voice in his head that scolds him for this weakness that sounds just like Ammi.) ‘Does…does it ever stop?’

The nightmares. Hearing her voice.

Wondering, sometimes, just maybe…if she did love him, if he was just a little better…

…wondering if it was real sometimes.

Bruno cups his hands around his mug of chai and stares into it for a second, before looking up at Kamran.

‘As far as I know? No, and it’s been over eleven years…but it does get better.’

Kamran wonders if that’s because Bruno has a family. Kimo is his brother, but he’s just one person; can two orphans without any other family be a family?

He doesn’t know if or how or whether he even wants to ask that, but some words tumble out anyway after a couple sips of chai.

‘Guessing your family helped?’

He doesn’t realize until the words are out how much bitterness there is in there. How much jealousy.

Bruno stares at him for a long beat, a bit awkwardly. Then, for some reason, he swallows and gives a little shake of his head that seems admonishing but is seemingly directed at himself, looking away, before turning back to Kamran. He raises a hand to rub the back of his neck, but catches himself and lowers it.

‘You know, Kamala insists that families come in all shapes and sizes. A family can absolutely be a pasty Italian boy and his nonna and his best friend, and her Pakistani family who decided they’re going to adopt said gora boy.’

Kamran finds himself smiling a little, as Bruno’s tone turns wryer and wryer (and fonder and fonder).

‘How old were you when she said that?’

‘The first time? Seven.’ He pauses. ‘The last time was four months ago.’ Another pause. ‘It’s Kamala.’

Bruno says her name like it somehow explains everything.

That makes Kamran smile a little bit more.

He drinks more of his chai, the silence that falls feeling far less awkward.

Kamran eventually breaks it when most of his chai is gone.

‘I get messages from her, sometimes.’ He pauses, before continuing in explanation. ‘She’s in jail.’

‘Do you ever reply?’

Bruno sounds like he wants to know if that helps.

‘I write replies, but…I don’t send them.’ Bruno nods, as if that makes sense to him. Kamran’s not sure it makes sense at all, but at least they agree, so he’s not totally fucked up. (Bruno’s not, so maybe that means he isn’t a completely lost cause too.) ‘You ever hear from yours?’

‘I don’t know if they’re alive.’ Bruno’s voice starts sounding funny. ‘I’m not sure if they know that I’m alive either.’

Kamran looks at him. He should be horrified, but he isn’t.

After a long, long moment of staring over Kamran’s shoulder into the distance and some more sips of chai, Bruno elaborates.

Kamran gets the feeling that almost no-one knows what he says next.

(His nonna and Kamala, but probably no-one else.)

‘They abandoned me. Literally. With a few cans of expired food, some goldfish crackers and $4.17 and a drawer of unpaid bills and an imminent eviction notice.’ Bruno was seven when his parents left. He somehow survived. Maybe Kamran is fucked up, because he somehow doesn’t feel utterly horrified. A voice in his head says that if he’d been like what Bruno must have been like when he was seven (surely kind and generous and clearly, obviously good, given who he is now), Ammi would’ve done the same to him. Cleaner, though, probably. Neater. No loose ends. Maybe some of it shows on his face. Clearly, Bruno is much less fucked up than him, because he does look concerned, and vaguely horrified. ‘A couple of very kind convenience store workers found me trying to break into a dumpster.’

Kamran nods, gestures with his head towards his and Kareem’s door.

‘Kimo helped me get the evidence I needed.’

He doesn’t say that Kareem had to convince him to do it in the first place, but Bruno seems to hear it anyway.

They clink their mugs together in a very bitter toast before draining the rest of their chai.

-

Kamran and Bruno go and get a very early breakfast at a nearby all-night diner that does excellent turkey bacon.

It makes the shadows of Kamran’s nightmare, of being back in Ammi’s clutches – the shadows that clutch at him and drag him down and make him feel like he’ll never be free – feel further away.

-

‘…okay, so Viv, you’ve got the first two points, and Nakia, you’re good to do the last two?’ Miguel’s group project teammates nod, and he smiles. Group projects are a mixed bag, but he’s got a good group for this big assignment, thankfully. ‘We’ll meet up on Wednesday after class to compile the slides?’

-

On Wednesday, Miguel hurries into the library, slightly late, to find Nakia and Viv already waiting for him. He apologizes, as he sits down and pulls out his laptop. As it boots up, he sets a reminder on his phone to buy more Band-Aids and tampons.

(He’s still got a half-pack of Hershey’s Kisses and plenty of safety pins in his backpack, but one of his Poli-Sci classmates whom he’s not actually talked to before had come up to him after class, quietly asking if she can have some tampons, saying that she’s roommates with Talia from the debate team who told her he’ll have some.)

(Of course, Miguel had given her some; that’s what they’re for.)

-

After their exams for their first semester of college, Bruno, Miguel, Kareem and Kamran sit around a table at the halal pizza place, half-eaten pizzas in front of them.

Kareem smiles, more a true smile than a smirk, and holds up his can of soda for a toast. The rest of them grin back at him, and they all clink their sodas together in a cheers gesture.

Chapter Text

On Thursday morning the first week of Sophomore year, Bruno says goodbye to Miguel, who is eating a bowl of granola while doing some readings, and heads out the door for his morning lab class.

(Kamran and Kareem are at the gym.)

After Freshman year, the four of them had decided to move off-campus, and now they rent a house together a twenty-minute walk away.

Bruno walks down the street, and six doors down, waves a bit awkwardly at the young brown woman in jeans and an oversized T-shirt, hair scraped back into a harsh bun, who emerges from the door. Inaya looks up from her phone where she’s checking something – probably her schedule; Inaya is the busiest, hardest-working person Bruno has ever met, which is really saying something, because he was raised by Nonna and lives with Miguel and Kareem. She nods back at him.

They’re not friends per se; he thinks they’d be classified as friendly acquaintances.

(Bruno is, in fact, slightly terrified of Inaya.)

(She’s somehow even more baby-faced than Kamala, but is several orders of magnitude scarier.)

(Yeah, it’s a low bar, because Kamala is Kamala Khan, but his point still stands.)

(Inaya has very sharp, knowing eyes, doesn’t smile or laugh often, and sometimes, he swears he catches a ghost of a smirk on her face, like she knows something – or several somethings – that he doesn’t.)

Inaya is also a Stark Foundation Scholar, so they’ve interacted at the Stark Foundation Scholar mixers.

(Despite the full-ride scholarship, and stipend for travelling home during breaks, she’s one of several of the scholars who works, like Bruno does.)

(She’s got two jobs, as far as he can tell. She tutors like he does, and he spotted her working as a barista at the café on his way to campus two days ago.)

(She’d mentioned to him once when they were both standing in a corner at one of the mixers, eating fancy finger food, that she has two younger sisters.)

(Bruno can read between the lines. He didn’t have a college fund. Like many of the Stark Foundation Scholars, Inaya likely wouldn’t have had one either, and he’d bet her sisters don’t too.)

Just as Inaya looks back at her phone, the front door of her home opens behind her again, and Bruno can hear two voices, both female, talking in Urdu. The first voice farewells Nani, saying she’ll be home from classes and work at 6 pm that night, please do not climb the stepladder to get the lentils down, Nani! The second voice wishes the first voice – which apparently belongs to someone called Mahnoor – and Inaya a good day at school, but makes no promises about the lentils and the stepladder.

As Bruno walks past, a second young brown woman comes out of the door, dressed in the chef’s uniforms worn by the students of the nearby culinary institute, hair completely covered by a hair-wrap and wearing a brightly-coloured pair of glasses. She presses a Tupperware container into Inaya’s hands, asking her to please taste-test the contents for her. Inaya smiles at the other woman and takes the box, putting it in her bag and saying, thank you, Mahnoor.

Mahnoor hurries off in the direction of the culinary institute, while Inaya falls into step with Bruno as they walk towards campus, the two of them eventually starting a conversation about their shared biology class, after a period of silence that made him feel very awkward.

-

(Bruno is pretty sure that Inaya knows he speaks Urdu – he has no idea how; just like he has no idea how Kareem apparently worked it out ages before Kamran did.)

(He lived with Kareem all of Freshman year, and he still isn’t sure that he can read Kareem properly half the time.)

(There was an exceedingly stupid – and racist and Islamophobic – rumour in their dorm last year that Kareem was in fact a Pakistani spy.)

(Like all rumours, Bruno thinks wryly, it is inspired by a small kernel of truth.)

-

A month into Sophomore year, Kareem concludes that his roommates – his best friends – are idiots.

Honestly.

Fools.

-

‘…you slept?’

Miguel sounds surprised. Kareem has a brow arched, so he is too. Kamran himself can’t quite believe what they’re seeing.

On Saturday morning, the three of them stare as Bruno – in pyjamas, hair a mess – walks out of his room and into the kitchen/dining/living area.

Last night, when they’d all gone to bed, Bruno was figuratively buried in a project at the coffee table and the coffee table was literally buried in said project.

They’d all figured that they’d find him asleep at the coffee table in the morning, mostly-done – or possibly completed – project next to him.

‘Kamala threatened to spontaneously develop superpowers to come poke me if I didn’t.’

That makes all three of them look at him. Bruno rubs the back of his neck with a hand, opens his mouth as if to say something, decides against it, and simply walks over to the kitchen to make up a bowl of granola for breakfast.

As they turn back to their own breakfasts, Kamran leans over to ask his brother a question.

‘How is that a threat?’

Kareem replies very dryly.

‘It is the good kind.’

-

As he’s finally had a chance to go to the hardware store to purchase picture hooks that promise to not leave marks when removed, Bruno finally gets the chance to hang up the birthday present Kamala got him.

Well, more accurately, made for him.

It’s a drawing of them and their family: Nonna, Mr and Mrs Khan, Aamir and Tyesha. It’s a bold, brightly coloured piece that is at least partially inspired by their outfits from Aamir and Tyesha’s wedding and at least partially inspired by Marvel Comics.

They’re also all on the roof of the Circle-Q, Jersey City silhouetted behind them.

(It’s probably his and KK’s favourite spot to hang out.)

(It’s…theirs.)

It’s home.

It’s beautiful.

Bruno smiles wider and softer as he straightens up the frame.

-

Miguel looks up from his readings when Bruno comes in the front door after his Sunday tutoring sessions. At the same time, Kamran and Kareem look up from where they’re making protein shakes in the kitchen.

Miguel exchanges a knowing glance with Kareem.

Bruno is wearing a zip-up hoodie with orange and blue stripes that does not look like a commercially-produced garment. It’s very well-made, but it looks homemade.

Kareem smiles, practically a smirk, and speaks up, putting the lid on his protein shake.

‘Is that a new hoodie?’

Bruno looks up from where he’s re-organizing the shoe rack.

‘Uh, sort-of?’ He pauses, as he shifts around a couple pairs of their shoes to more efficiently utilize the space, swapping Kareem’s boots with a pair of his own sneakers. ‘Kamala made it over summer.’

‘She made you a hoodie?’

Kamran sounds like he can’t quite believe it.

(Both, Miguel thinks, that Kamala made a hoodie for Bruno, and that someone could care enough to make you clothes with their own hands.)

(Bruno’s early childhood was terrible and Kareem’s father died when he was four, and his mother when he was fourteen – both tragically, both heroes – but they all agree that Kamran had the worst childhood.)

Bruno looks up from the shoes.

‘She, uh, lost the original one.’

‘How did she lose your hoodie?’

Kamran now sounds confused.

Bruno rubs the back of his neck with a hand. Miguel exchanges another glance with Kareem.

‘She borrowed it.’ That admission makes all three of them look at him. Bruno sighs. ‘It’s Kamala.’ He gestures nebulously. ‘She forgot to bring a thicker jacket, and she was cold.’

Of course, Bruno’s protests don’t help at all. Miguel grins wryly and looks over at the other two. Kareem is smirking shamelessly, while Kamran is grinning teasingly.

Bruno sighs (it’s a fondly exasperated sound) and makes one last rearrangement to the shoe rack, apparently having realized that nothing he says will save him from the teasing.

-

Kareem carries a large box of what he would consider junk that a friend of his offered him for his crazy roommate into the house, taking off his shoes before heading for Bruno’s bedroom door.

(That is a quote; while Kareem agrees that Bruno has a SCIENCE!!!-obsession/addiction, he knows that his best friend is not, in fact, crazy.)

(He is just weird.)

He knocks, and the door is opened a moment later by said crazy roommate, who has his headphones in, and judging by the look on his face, is talking to Kamala.

Specifically, talking to Kamala about those superhero comic books and that superhero cartoon meant for children they love so much.

(The fanboying/fangirling is quite obvious on Bruno’s face, at least to Kareem.)

(It is even more obvious on Kamala’s, from the occasional glimpse over video chat or at a photo.)

(They have also all heard Kamala fangirling.)

Bruno smiles at him and the box of junk as he takes it, thanking Kareem, before returning to his conversation with Kamala.

‘…it’s awesome that Mobius finally got his jet-ski…’ Bruno pulls out his headphones as she fangirl squeals too loudly. He smiles wryly, but the expression is, in Kareem’s eyes, also entirely besotted. ‘…but I don’t think we can ignore what’s going to happen next, KK…it’s the TVA, and more importantly, it’s a Loki run; A, it’s not going to end happily, B, there’s going to be a twist, and C, it’s going to be somewhat brain-breaking…hey, I’m not saying he doesn’t deserve to be happy! He’s just not gonna get it in canon…’ That softness, fondness, on Bruno’s face only increases as he chuckles. ‘…of course, you’re gonna fire canon out of a cannon…okay, so if that’s your divergence point, how do you think they’d get to fix-it from there? Huh…I mean, yeah, you could redeem Renslayer, but after what happened with C12, I’m not sure Mobius or B15 would help…yeah, I could see that…actually, I read this really cool theory the other day about how the TempPads work in-universe…’

-

Honestly, Kareem thinks. Bruno is supposed to be a genius.

He is also, however, an idiot.

It has been obvious since the very first mention of his best friend that Bruno is deeply in love with her.

Kamala obviously loves him too, just as deeply, though Kareem will concede that it may have taken them being apart for college for her to realize.

However, they are both fools, because they are both somehow convinced that the other cannot possibly feel the same way, and are thus unwilling to risk their treasured friendship.

Honestly.

If not for the evidence in front of him, Kareem would not think it possible that anyone could be oblivious to their obvious feelings for each other, let alone both of them. 

Fools.

-

Even Kamran can see.

-

Kamran doesn’t get how Bruno doesn’t realize Kamala loves him too.

He’s pretty sure a girl doesn’t take a really weirdly zoomed-in selfie of you in a kinda-sparkly turquoise frame with her to college and hang it up in her dorm room if she only thinks of you as a friend.

Bruno says that they’re best friends and Kamala’s just committed to the joke.

(It’s not clear whether the joke was Bruno giving her said framed photo as a gag-gift, or Kamala printing out the photo and framing it.)

Maybe Kimo is the smartest guy in the house.

-

‘…yeah, of course Beef Wellington’s older, so maybe it’s the OG, but it’s, like, fancy and complicated, so surely that means that the base dish is a pig in a blanket, so…’ Over Bruno’s phone, on video call, Kamala trails off dramatically, before continuing imperiously. ‘…Beef Wellington is just a fancy pig in a blanket!’

In their living room, making a new pair of photon gloves for Kamala’s Captain Marvel cosplay for next AvengerCon, with a proximity alert for Zuzu built-in, as he describes his latest project, Bruno makes a bit of a face as he considers.

‘…that’s very logical.’

‘Hey, no need to sound so surprised!’ Bruno snorts and shakes his head at Kamala as she sticks her tongue out at him, but it’s very fond. ‘Ooh, Bruno, does this mean Beef Wellington is just a corndog not-on-a-stick?’

‘A corndog is made of cornmeal batter, while Beef Wellington and pigs in a blanket use pastry; ergo, I’d argue that they are not the same family of foodstuffs…’

‘Nah, I reckon they’re more, like, third cousins or something!’

Honestly, Kareem thinks. They have been enthusiastically having this ridiculous debate for fifteen minutes now. It is at least a change from their apparently long-running argument as to whether a hotdog counts as a sandwich.

Honestly.

In his opinion, Bruno should simply get on with it and propose.

Then again, he is not a commitment-phobic American, unlike these two.

-

(If he had a love like that, he would not hesitate.)

-

‘Nakia Bahadir knows who I am!’            

Miguel’s voice, passing Kareem’s room on the way down the hall to his room, presumably after returning from classes for the day, is very loud.

Kareem puts down his guitar and opens his bedroom door, because he suspects he would like to see this.

Miguel is indeed grinning a ridiculous, goofy, on-top-of-the-world grin.

Kamran has also opened his door at the noise, headphones around his neck. Kareem spots a tell-tale still of the Great British Bake-Off tent on Kamran’s laptop behind him.

Bruno, meanwhile, is also peering around the doorframe that separates the kitchen/living/dining area and the hallway.

(He has been in the kitchen working on a brand-new project of his: a robot that will cook his and his nonna’s family Bolognese recipe, which is halal, so that Kamala and her family can eat it.)

(Honestly.)

Miguel does not appear to be able to stop grinning goofily.

Kareem arches a brow, exchanging a glance with Kamran and Bruno. The former voices what they are all thinking.

‘…didn’t you have a group project with her, man?’

It is not just that. They are doing the same pre-law program. They are both on the debate team. They simply move in the same circles.

(Honestly.)

-

‘Nakia Bahadir complimented my article!’

When Miguel comes home from a model United Nations competition, Kareem, Kamran and Bruno are sitting on the couch, watching the cricket and eating bowls of spaghetti Bolognese.

(Bruno’s robot, now on its second iteration, got ¼ of the way through the recipe; Bruno followed the video of his nonna cooking that he was using to train the robot to finish said recipe.)

The three of them exchange a glance, as Miguel, still grinning like a loon, heads to the kitchen to help himself to some pasta.

Kareem is quite sure that Miguel is daydreaming.

(Normally, he considers Miguel the most sensible of his three best friends.)

(Honestly.)

-

Honestly.

Kareem sighs and shakes his head internally as he walks past Miguel and Nakia sitting on the campus lawn, talking about something that he cannot hear, but that they are both clearly very passionate about and invested in.

Again.

At the moment, Nakia is gesticulating with righteous fury and passion, left hand clutching a pack of vegan cheese puffs, right hand holding a pair of chopsticks. Miguel, his own chopsticks and cheese puffs in hand, is nodding in solemn agreement, even as he looks at her like he has never seen a more beautiful, glorious sight.

Honestly.

-

(This is the third time.)

(They eat their cheese puffs with chopsticks as that is a habit they have picked up from Jennifer Walters, Attorney-at-Law, whom they mutually idolize.)

-

Kareem waves at Miguel as he walks towards to where his roommate is standing. Miguel waves back somewhat distractedly, as he is also chatting to Nakia Bahadir.

(After a very unpleasant and concerning incident on campus, Miguel and some of his friends and classmates are launching a petition to try and pressure their college’s administration into taking action. They want Kareem’s opinion, as the teacher of a free self-defence class organized through the student union.)

As he comes up beside them, Miguel finishes telling some kind of joke about compulsory voting and democracy sausages in Australia, and Nakia laughs. Miguel grins at her for a beat, before the two pre-law students turn serious as they begin explaining their petition.

-

Kareem, walking past on quiet feet on his way to the student union building to teach his self-defence class, shakes his head as he spots Miguel waving goodbye to Nakia Bahadir, after what he is sure was a very long conversation about some assignment they have.

(Miguel talks to Nakia only about school or the debate team or the occasional protest or petition, unless she talks to him first.)

(Which is, admittedly, quite often.)

Nakia puts a hand on her hip and teases his roommate lightly with a mischievous little smirk on her face, before waving goodbye too and walking off, her long coat swishing a little behind her.

Honestly.

Nakia Bahadir is very beautiful and graceful and stylish, so even though she is considered intimidating (or intense or insane, by those who are far less polite), she has plenty of admirers, Kareem knows.

None of which she pays attention to anywhere like Miguel.

(She is not a woman easily won over by said admirers and their attempts to charm her.)

(Kareem tried to charm her precisely once – out of what he will admit is habit, rather than any interest in being one of said admirers. He has not tried again.)

(Kamran teases him. So do Miguel and Bruno.)

(But he swears that most of the time, he is not truly trying.)

(Kareem simply inherited his abbu’s charm, which he is told, was never truly off.)

(It is not his fault that ladies of all ages – from many of their classmates, to Kamala’s mother, to Nani Hazeema who lives six doors down – find him very charming, no?)

No, Nakia Bahadir does not encourage any of her other admirers, yet she will tease Miguel, looking young and mischievous, and share long conversations and eat cheese puffs with chopsticks with him.

Honestly.

Perhaps they need to have a little talk to Miguel.

An intervention, yes?

-

‘…you know, you could just talk to her about, I don’t know, how much you liked that article she wrote? Ask her exactly how she supposedly verbally eviscerated an entire group of frat boys? What her favourite flavour of cheese puffs is?’

Bruno shrugs nebulously, looking increasingly convinced even as he speaks that none of those might be the right thing to use as a conversation starter.

Kamran and Kareem exchange a glance. Kareem smiles wryly to himself. Bruno rubs the back of his neck, as Kamran picks up the thread.

‘Or you could just ask her out for coffee?’

That, Kareem thinks, is a far more sensible suggestion.

Miguel shakes his head very firmly.

‘It is creepy and wrong; Nakia Bahadir is at school to learn to be an incredible lawyer, not to be hit on!’

Yes, Miguel is very right in that.

But, Kareem thinks…

…Miguel is a very intelligent, very observant and typically sensible man. He has good social skills. And yet, he cannot comprehend something that even Bruno can: that there is quite a lot of room to move between being a creepy asshole who does not know the meaning of no, and what Miguel is currently doing.

Honestly.

-

Kareem leaves the bathroom at the café that is about halfway between their house and campus, and re-enters the main room…

…to find Kamran no longer sitting at the table they were doing their assignments at, while drinking chai (Kareem) and coffee (Kamran) and eating a chicken sandwich (Kareem) and a pistachio friand (Kamran).

Instead, Kamran is standing at the counter, waxing lyrical to a young woman in glasses wearing a chef’s coat and a colourful hair-wrap.

Yet again.

Kamran had gone into the café one day for morning coffee, and happened to pick up – as Kareem has heard several times by now – a spiced chocolate chip cookie to go with it.

Ever since, his brother has become incredibly fond of this café, and the Star Baker-worthy creations sold there, as he calls them.

He has also, Kareem has gathered, become rather fond of the creator of said Star Baker-worthy creations: Mahnoor, who is studying at the culinary institute nearby part-time, while working part-time at the café.

Mahnoor is currently looking sort-of up at his brother, and even as she grins at his compliments, she looks like she is wishing for the dupatta she always has over her head and shoulders when she is not baking to hide her face in.

(She is too dark-skinned to visibly blush, but obviously is.)

Kareem exchanges a knowing look with Nani Hazeema, Mahnoor’s grandmother, who lives six doors down from him, Kamran, Miguel and Bruno, along with her granddaughter and their tenant.

(Kareem has happened to walk past as Nani is unloading bags of groceries, or dragging the trash cans back inside, and has thus been able to help her.)

(Nani has a bad knee. And occasionally a sore back.)

(If he has since started to happen to walk past the morning after the garbagemen come?)

(Well, his ammi raised him to do good deeds, all he can.)

(Kareem has also run into Mahnoor a couple times. He had not met their tenant, Inaya, until two days ago, when he came into the café particularly early in the morning for his chai, minutes after opening, and she was the barista working, buried in textbooks while she waited for the morning’s customers to trickle in.)

Nani Hazeema looks very knowingly back at him, and pats the chair next to hers. It is unmistakeably an order, so Kareem goes and grabs his chai and sandwich, sitting down next to Nani.

Nani waits for him to finish his sandwich, and for Kamran to trail off a little awkwardly but grin very earnestly, boyishly at Mahnoor, and Mahnoor to make this little squeaking noise, before the trainee pastry chef begins to babble about the recipe for her chocolate chip cookies and how to make a good Swiss meringue buttercream.

Nani then speaks, voice low.

‘Kareem, beta, if you are going to insist that I need help with the trash cans…send your brother over to handle them; you have too much on your plate already.’ Nani shakes her head. ‘Just because you are young and spry and have so much energy does not mean you have to use every ounce of it!’

He looks at Nani. She looks back at him, hands clasped over her cane, with all the authority and wisdom of her years…

…and a mischievous little twinkle in her eyes.

Kareem smiles.

Scandal and whispers followed Kamran all through Karachi. Some followed him here, even, filtering through aunties and uncles and cousins and in-laws.

So many comment about his mother. About how he must have known what she was doing, must have turned a blind eye. So many of those whispers cast aspersions on his character, speculate that he is Najma’s son.

Kareem sees the shadows in his brother, that much is true.

But he also sees light.

(Kamran did not have choices until very recently, not truly.)

(And when he has been able to choose, he has chosen to do good, to do the right thing.)

He is very glad that others can see that.

Nani smiles back at him, and he nods.

He will ask Kamran to help Nani with her trash cans from now on.

-

One Saturday morning, after a long, invigorating gym session, after he and Kareem have stopped by the café for their morning coffee and chai, Kamran glares at the backs of a pair of gossiping aunties as they leave the café.

A few minutes ago, while he and Mahnoor talked about last night’s Great British Bake-Off episode (he’s very happy to have met a fellow Bake-Off fan; Kimo can’t stand it, and while Miguel and Bruno don’t grumble about hearing too much about soggy bottoms, it’s just not their thing), he’d heard the aunties whispering (not particularly quietly, of course) in Urdu, about how it was such a shame her complexion was so dark, she would be such a beautiful girl if she were fair.

Mahnoor had finished their conversation, but she’d seemed to shrink a little into herself, ducking or shifting her head somehow so that her face was partially hidden by her dupatta, hands playing a little with the opposite sleeves of her kameez.

Once they’d agreed that last night’s elimination was of course the only fair choice, sad as they were for Natalie, Mahnoor had made her excuses, saying that she really needed to go home and study.

And then, she’d hurried out the café door in a flash of bold yellow and deep violet.

-

(Mahnoor dresses very colourfully, when not in her school’s uniforms. Colourful chef’s coats and hair-wraps when she’s working in the café. Shalwar kameez and matching dupattas draped over her head and shoulders when she’s not.)

(It’s bright and warm and makes Kamran smile a little.)

-

As his brother glares at the gossipy aunties for their thoughtlessly rude comments – cruel comments – Kareem takes the chai and coffee that Inaya hands him.

The barista’s expression has remained serious and focused and blandly polite throughout Kamran and Mahnoor’s conversation and the aunties’ interruption…

…at least to most observers.

But Kareem is not most observers, and he will swear that subtle though it is…

…there was a little twist of amusement, of knowing, when Kamran and Mahnoor were going on and on about not-soggy bottoms…

…and that when the aunties had spoken, there was a little coal of anger in her eyes, for her friend (best friend, he suspects). It was quickly brought under control and extinguished, but it was there for a second or two.

He gives Kamran his coffee, then puts a tip in the jar before sipping at his chai. Inaya looks up at him as she steams milk for another order, and Kareem knows that she knows that he knows. That he saw.

Kamran takes a sip of his coffee while still glaring at the aunties, before taking a deep breath, in and out. He then takes another sip of coffee, and stares down the street towards Nani, Mahnoor and Inaya’s house, almost as if he is hoping that she might come back, now the aunties are gone.

Kareem sighs internally.

Honestly.

All three of them?

Chapter Text

Bruno smiles rather wryly at his phone as he eats his breakfast.

Kamala wound up going on a random deep-dive into Clone Wars fanfics last night (it’s Kamala), and thus, he has received fifteen text messages in which she word-vomits all her feelings and opinions on the treatment of the clone troopers.

(Bruno’s heard all of them before, though she did read a very interesting new fan theory about the mind-control chips that is explained in three of the paragraphs.)

He puts down his spoon to type out a reply, having finally reached the end of the text chain, before resuming his breakfast.

A few mouthfuls later, Bruno smiles a little wider as three dots appear.

He glances up as KK types out what must be a very long paragraph to find Kamran, sitting to his left, smiling at his own phone. He catches a flash of what looks like a cheesecake topped with pistachios. No prizes as to who made that cheesecake, Bruno thinks wryly.

His attention is pulled back to his phone as Kamala finishes typing, and he laughs as he reads, picking up his spoon again.

-

‘…I do not know why you bother, brother, we all know that yours are just full of compliments and gushing that it is the tastiest thing you have ever eaten!’

Kareem smirks at his brother as he speaks. Kamran protests, gesturing at him with his fork.

‘It’s true!’

Bruno exchanges a glance with Miguel as the two of them eat their slices of the pethe ka halwa pumpkin pie Mahnoor baked. Miguel puts a particularly large piece of the floral pastry lattice that’d decorated the top into his mouth, seemingly to avoid answering when the bickering brothers glance over at them. Bruno quickly follows his friend’s lead, scooping a large spoonful of filling into his mouth.

They both turn to the feedback sheets on their phones that Kamran had made and insists that they fill out every time he brings something home with him that Mahnoor made and requests they taste-test.

Bruno’s pretty sure that she’s mostly asking Kamran to taste-test the baked goods, but none of them have any complaints whatsoever at being asked to do the taste-testing, nor to dispose of Mahnoor’s excess homework or her practice attempts at assignments/tests.

(Look, they’re four single college Sophomore guys who have questionable collective cooking skills, okay?)

(Bruno admits he was very spoiled by being fed – very insistently - by Nonna and Mrs K growing up, and during all his breaks.)

(Miguel says much the same about his mama and abuela.)

(The two of them can follow a recipe with generally decent and consistently edible results, but the less said about Kamran and Kareem’s attempts to make anything that isn’t toast, chai, a bowl of cereal or protein shakes, the better.)

He and Miguel exchange another glance, mouths full of pie, as Kamran lobs a protein bar wrapper at his brother, and Kareem laughs, smirking.

-

Nani Hazeema had happened to be outside when Kareem walked past to go to class one morning, so she had asked if he and his friends would be so kind to help her with the yard work, especially as a tree fell in the storm last week and the lawnmower is broken. Nani does not want to ask Inaya and Mahnoor as they are always working so hard; besides, they are not strong young men like the four of you! She will pay them with dinners, of course.

Kareem had nodded solemnly at the first half of Nani’s request.

(She truly does need the help. Good is what you do. The Quran says to do good acts.)

(Bruno and Miguel do not share his and Kamran’s faith.  Miguel is technically Catholic, having very strong opinions on the Church, but he keeps a private faith in God. Bruno has several traits that make it quite clear that he was partially raised by Muslims – he purchases and eats mostly halal food seemingly by habit, for example – but is not religious himself. At least currently, Kareem thinks.)

(But the four of them all agree that one should do good acts, both great ones, and everyday acts of kindness.)

Then, he had smiled at the knowing twinkle in Nani’s eyes and nodded again in agreement with that too.

Kareem had told her that he and Kamran would certainly help, and he is sure that Bruno and Miguel will too, and they had agreed on Saturday afternoon/evening. Nani had said they were all very nice boys and that she will make sure that Mahnoor saves plenty of homework for them.

He had said something about surely not needing to ask, Mahnoor has clearly inherited her kindness and generosity from her grandmother, and Nani had huffed and rolled her eyes at him and told him to save his charm for young ladies.

That evening, he had relayed Nani’s request.

As predicted, all three of his best friends were perfectly willing to help.

So now, here the four of them are, in Nani Hazeema’s yard on Saturday afternoon.

-

Mahnoor returns from her job at the café (Inaya’s shift is also done, but she had immediately headed to campus for tutoring sessions) to find that Kamran and his brother Kareem, Inaya’s friend Bruno, and their roommate Miguel are in their yard.

Bruno is repairing the lawnmower, a box of tools and parts that Mahnoor knows they do not own next to him.

Miguel is raking all the leaves into piles. Kareem is putting the leaves into trash bags.

And Kamran is chopping up the tree that fell in the storm last week.

He spends so much time at the gym – which is probably why he is always hungry and appreciates her baking so much – and well, he looks like he spends a lot of the time at the gym and…gah, Mahnoor, do not think about that!

Kamran puts down the axe to take a break and grins and waves at her, before absent-mindedly lifting the hem of his shirt to wipe some sweat from his brow.

She cannot catch the little squeaking noise that she makes. She knows she cannot actually blush, but her cheeks feel very warm. Oh, what she wouldn’t give for some cool composure, or to be either cool or composed! Shifting her dupatta to hide her face a little, Mahnoor searches for something safer to look at, and her eyes fall on the pile of clothes on the porch.

(All four of their sort-of neighbours are wearing just T-shirts and jeans, despite it being a cool fall day, because of all the yard work.)

(Like chopping up wood…do not think about that, Mahnoor!)

There is a shearling-lined denim jacket that she knows is Kamran’s. The hoodie for the college debating team must be Miguel’s. There is a blue and yellow flannel shirt and a red puffer vest that must thus be Bruno’s, because the black leather motorcycle jacket must be Kareem’s.

Determinedly not looking in the direction of the fallen tree – and where wood-chopping noises have resumed – Mahnoor, still feeling very flustered, goes inside and begins juicing lemons to make shikanjabeen.

-

He cannot live like this anymore.

Kareem decides he simply cannot as they take a break from yard work to eat the strawberry rosewater macarons and drink the shikanjabeen that Mahnoor had brought outside for them. They had barely managed to thank her before she had hurried back inside, fiddling with the ends of her dupatta and babbling something about making sure Nani is not overtaxing herself making dinner; do they like chicken karahi?

That made Kamran look very sad, even as he had called after her that they love chicken karahi. (Whether this is true is debatable. Kareem likes it well enough but would not say he loves it; he had thought the same of Kamran. Bruno loves Kamala’s ammi’s chicken karahi, but Kareem is not sure Miguel has ever eaten chicken karahi.) Kareem’s brother is now chewing on a macaron and explaining the degree of difficulty of making said macarons to him and how their success – something about feet on the cookies – indicates Mahnoor’s great skill and talent.

Meanwhile, Miguel is watching and nodding along to a video Nakia Bahadir has posted on her social media, about Women of Colour in American politics today. The expression on his face is rather odd; he shifts from a very serious, thoughtful expression to grinning like a besotted loon and back again.

Bruno’s phone is pinging constantly as he stares at it. Kamala has apparently sent him seven messages in a row, and is still going. He just shakes his head in a way that is extremely fondly exasperated and waits for her to finish her crazy rant. He also snorts through his mouthful of macaron at something that is surely particularly ridiculous that she says.

Kareem cannot live like this anymore.

They are fools, all of them.

As none of his best friends – brothers, really – can see what is quite literally in front of their faces…

…something must be done.

And it looks like it will have to be Kareem doing it.

-

Bruno, glancing down at his phone, walks out of his bedroom and into the living area, where Kamran and Kareem are watching DDLJ.

(Kamran loves DDLJ. Much like KK, he loves SRK movies. Kareem appears to have lost a bet to him and now has to re-watch it with him?)

(Bruno honestly doesn’t know why Kareem does things half the time. He’s sure Kareem has a reason for everything, he’s just not inclined to share.)

They both look up at him, and Kamran seems to be about to invite him to join them, but they pause the movie at the look of concern on his face.

Bruno holds out his phone, elaborating.

‘Miguel’s protest got crashed by Neo-Nazis.’ He pauses. ‘He says he’s okay and he’s on his way home-‘

There’s noise from outside, and then, the front door opens, and in comes Miguel.

Their normally very mild-mannered roommate is cursing out Neo-Nazis. He also slams the door.

Bruno’s not sure that Miguel has ever slammed a door in his life.

(He knows the other man gets angry. Feels anger, at all the injustices he sees in the world. But Miguel is an expert at controlling it – at hiding it, swallowing it down when he must, releasing it and channelling it into doing good.)

(It’s not that dissimilar from the seemingly-endless grace and strength and compassion that Kamala – and her family – use to deal with bigotry.)

They all exchange a glance. Kamran gets up from the couch and calls out to Miguel.

‘Wanna go punch things at the gym?’

Miguel makes himself take a deep breath, and then nods.

‘Yeah, I’d like to punch things right now.’

He seems caught between anger and being surprised at his own anger.

-

Kamran and Miguel return two hours later, both sweaty, and Miguel much calmer.

Kamran gestures at the other man.

‘He’s got a pretty mean left hook!’

Miguel grins too, a bit sheepishly.

-

Nakia Bahadir shows up at their door that evening, having gotten their address, most likely from Inaya, Kareem thinks.

He eavesdrops and watches discreetly as Miguel answers the door.

‘How are you holding up?’

Nakia looks shaken, not quite as composed and strong and powerful as usual. But of course, she holds her head high like a queen.

‘I’m not letting them win.’

Miguel smiles.

‘Of course not, you’re Nakia Bahadir.’

That makes her smile back at him, and Nakia reaches into her purse and pulls out a few safety pins and a block of dark chilli chocolate, which she hands to Miguel.

‘Thank you.’

Miguel shrugs.

‘Mom Friends need to stick together!’ That makes Nakia’s smile turn wry, and she nods, as Miguel’s tone turns concerned, gentle. ‘You changed your scarf…I mean, that asshole didn’t tear your other one, did he?’

‘No, it’s fine…’

She trails off, looking more shaken again for a beat, before she takes a deep breath. Miguel just looks at her and nods sadly, and a little angrily.

‘I’m sorry.’

Nakia stares at him for a moment, before smiling a little wider at him.

They look at each other for a moment that lingers, before she says her goodbyes.

Miguel watches her go for a few seconds, before shaking himself out of it.

-

‘…I know how to treat a lady!’

Kareem just smirks at Kamran as the latter protests, in response to one of Kareem’s usual smartass quips.

Miguel, meanwhile, smiles a little to himself, popping another few pieces of spicy chaat mix into his mouth, as Bruno chews on his own, non-spicy handful.

(Mrs Khan sent them two bags in her most recent care package, one clearly labelled spicy.)

‘If she has an engine, brother.’

Kareem’s words make Kamran lob a scrunched-up chaat mix bag at his brother, who just laughs and dodges easily.

-

A series of text messages exchanged by Bruno Carrelli and Kamala Khan:

Kamala: BRUNO WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DRANK HALF A GLASS OF HOT SAUCE?!?!

You don’t do spicy!

Bruno: testosterone, KK

Kamala: it makes you dumb?

Bruno: …yes

-

(It was late on Friday night and they were all pretty tired, and Kamran and Kareem were bantering about some contest at the gym and…)

(…look, things had gotten out of control.)

-

In the privacy of his bedroom, Kareem nods to himself, as he completes his plan, and its back-up plan.

He will tackle the low-hanging fruit first. The second part of his plan will require him getting in touch with a few people from Jersey City. The third part…

…that will require substantial groundwork.

(Najma committed many crimes, but in times like this, it is clear to Kareem that her worst crime was what she did to his brother – the scars on his psyche and his self-esteem that she left.)

-

After class, Kareem walks up to Nakia, very deliberately. She looks at him, a little furrow in her brow.

He smiles.

‘Miguel is fine, do not worry, sister.’ She arches an eyebrow. He smiles a little wider. ‘But if you would like to get to know him better, unfortunately, you will have to make the first move.’

(Some things are better done directly, with no pretences or plots, no?)

(Besides, Miguel is the most observant of his roommates. And even Kareem finds Nakia Bahadir a little intimidating.)

Kareem is perhaps a little old-fashioned, traditional, but he considers making the first move to be a gentleman’s responsibility.

Nakia Bahadir clearly does not agree with him, of course, but she nods anyway, and smiles. He nods back and smiles wryly, before heading off to his next class.

That is the low-hanging fruit taken care of.

-

Kareem also obtains contact details for Yusuf Khan, and his best friend Rashid Shah – perfectly legally, of course, though also without Bruno’s knowledge – and sends them an email.

Uncle Yusuf and Uncle Rashid are despairing too, cannot believe how long this ridiculous situation has dragged on for.

The earliest bets in the betting pool were for Bruno and Kamala’s Junior year of high school. Almost nobody thought it would take this long, even with how oblivious Kamala is.

Honestly.

They are so obvious there is a betting pool, and yet they cannot see?

-

Kareem also speaks to Nani Hazeema about how the four of them are volunteering to aid her with her yard work more, and perhaps around the house.

‘…I can ask Bruno to build you a VacBot, perhaps, Nani?’

She looks at him with sharp, knowing eyes, then shakes her head, huffs.

‘You are too devious for your own good, beta…’ Nani looks at him, seeing with clear eyes, and reaches out to pat his arm. ‘…and kinder and softer-hearted than you will let the world see.’

‘Oh, please don’t ruin my reputation, Nani.’

She shakes her head again, muttering about youthful folly and impudence, but pours more chai into his mug, and issues a standing invitation to dinner, in repayment.

-

‘…ditch the greaser look for preppy clothes and learn a song and dance number, or you could get a boombox and hold it over your head outside her window?’

Bruno, Miguel and Kamran all stare at Kareem as he delivers his unsolicited advice and leans back in his chair nonchalantly, smiling a near-smirk, one ankle over one knee and foot jiggling.

He looks back at them with a brow arched, as if saying, I am from Pakistan, not under a rock.

Bruno crosses his arms, tone exceedingly dry.

‘Yeah, because old-school movies that did not necessarily age well are a good guide.’

Kareem arches a brow further at him, smile twisting a little more.

‘Compared to what you are doing?’

-

‘…I’m astounded that you did not get your nickname as someone wanted to turn you into minced meat!’

‘What can I say, Doc, I have my charms.’

‘You are lucky that you do!’

‘I’m flattered!’

As they help Nani Hazeema with her yard, Bruno blinks, feeling a bit like he’s watching a tennis match, as Kareem and Inaya bicker with each other.

He has no idea when this happened…

…but they’ve developed an...interesting…relationship?

This includes Kareem apparently nicknaming her Doc, which is most probably a reference to the fact that Inaya intends to go to medical school.

(Bruno is not sure exactly what is going on.)

(He is also pretty sure that this is not related to his social skills, but is instead the result of Kareem and Inaya being, well, Kareem and Inaya.)

‘Your ego does not need any assistance!’ As if to emphasize that, Inaya points at the section of lawn near the letterbox. ‘You missed a spot.’

With that, she turns around and heads towards campus, doubtlessly for her tutoring job.

Kareem, meanwhile, watches her go…

…smiling a near-smirk.

Bruno exchanges a glance with Miguel, as the two of them bag up fallen leaves.

‘How did Kareem get his nickname?’

He remembers remarking, when he first heard Kamran call Kareem Kimo, your nickname is minced meat? because that is an odd nickname, and his hypothesis is that it is related to Kareem’s excellent knife skills…

…but he doesn’t recall Kareem actually explaining its origins.

Miguel shrugs.

If Miguel doesn’t know, that means Kareem has never told them, no matter how discreetly or deviously…

…but somehow, it seems like Inaya has worked it out?

-

The bickering continues that evening, over dinner.

‘…yes, you needed all your talents to work that out.’ Inaya gestures at the red scarf around Kareem’s neck. (He wears one every day; this one is his most-worn plain red one.) ‘What is next to add to your collection?’ A ghost of a smile with a twist to it appears on her face. ‘Perhaps something more understated?’

‘You did not like Friday’s?’ Kareem asks that very mildly, between mouthfuls of goat. Inaya arches a sardonic brow at him. (On Friday, for reasons that Bruno will never know as Kareem will never tell, Kareem had worn a scarf printed with red roses.) ‘I am man enough to wear florals, Doc.’

Inaya doesn’t deign to reply, just snorts, though she also doesn’t seem to disagree?

Kareem smirks at her. She rolls her eyes, but Bruno thinks Inaya might be smiling a little.

The rest of them exchange a glance over their dinner. Mahnoor looks amused, but like she feels sheepish for it. Miguel and Nani Hazeema look very knowing. Kamran is just grinning into his goat.

Kamala’s probably written a fanfic that goes like this, and certainly read many more, Bruno thinks.

(KK loves a good trope. Or two. Or three.)

-

Later that evening, after dinner, as Kamran, Mahnoor and Miguel clear the table and box up leftovers, Bruno sits on the floor of the kitchen, examining the malfunctioning microwave.

Meanwhile, Kareem and Inaya are bickering as they wash and dry the dishes.

(If KK were here, she’d be taking notes for repurposing this conversation into a fanfic.)

‘…no-one has ever complained about my knife skills, and I grew up in a restaurant, Doc.’

‘Which means you should have learned proper knife safety, which does not include that!’

Look, Inaya has a point, Bruno thinks. Casually tossing a knife up and down by the handle is not proper knife safety.

However, empirically speaking, Kareem does it with great ease, and in the almost year-and-a-half Bruno has known him, has never shown any signs of fumbling slightly, let alone injuring himself.

‘You will be very good at your job, Doc.’

‘Idle flattery as a distraction will get you nowhere.’

‘It is not idle, nor is it flattery, and I cannot imagine you are easily distracted.’

Kareem is smiling in that way of his that is almost a smirk, which, empirically speaking, is considered extremely charming. (Especially by women.) Inaya snorts and rolls her eyes and very pointedly takes the washed knife from his hands and passes him the stack of plates Miguel delivered instead. He takes them without complaint and begins washing while she dries.

Bruno, meanwhile, has located the problem with the microwave. Unfortunately, it’s not fixable, so Nani is going to have to buy a new one…

…unless…

…that might just work.

As he begins investigating, head buried in the microwave, he hears Inaya speak again.

‘What kind of restaurant was it?’

‘My ammi ran a Chinese restaurant, back in Karachi.’

Inaya and Kareem’s very normal conversation lasts precisely a single exchange. Bruno is well-aware he has no room to talk, but this is very weird, okay?

‘So by knife skills, you mean you can carve fruit and vegetables into fancy shapes?’

Inaya sounds very sceptical.

‘Precisely, Doc.’

Bruno has his head in a microwave and his brain going a hundred miles a minute with an Idea, but he’s quite certain that his hypothesis – that Kareem is doing the charming smirk thing again – is correct.

-

‘…what’s got you so happy, man?’

Kamran speaks a little warily, because Kimo is smiling at his phone. Miguel looks up from where he is reading a pile of court transcripts.

‘Are we expecting a delivery?’

Bruno looks up from Nani Hazeema, Mahnoor and Inaya’s microwave.

‘Do I need to rebuild the confetti cannon?’

-

‘…what’s got you so happy, man?’

‘Are we expecting a delivery?’

‘Do I need to rebuild the confetti cannon?’

Kareem looks at his friends. They look back at him.

He supposes this is a bed of his own making.

Perhaps he needs to not cultivate his air of mystery quite so much…

…though he is not sure if he can help it, actually.

‘I am texting Inaya.’ He pauses. ‘I do not think that I will be home for dinner on Saturday, by the way.’

They all stare at him.

‘You have her phone number?’

‘You guys are going on a date?’

‘Already?’

He just arches a brow at his trio of best friends.

Honestly.

‘Just because I know how to talk to, ask out and properly court a woman-‘

‘KK and I are just best friends!’

‘Nakia Bahadir is at school to learn to be an incredible lawyer, not to be flirted with or hit on-‘

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, man!’

They all look at Kamran at that.

Honestly.

This level of denial…

And all other things aside, Kamran is far too earnest to pull it off.

(Kareem sometimes wonders how a woman like Najma could have a son like Kamran.)

Honestly.

Fools, Kareem thinks. His best friends are fools.

-

On Saturday evening, Kareem puts on a nice kurta over black jeans, ties a red plaid scarf from his collection that he knows Inaya thinks suits him around his neck, and grabs his black leather motorcycle jacket. He heads out of his room, goes to the kitchen to grab his little surprise for her, and then puts on his boots and walks six doors down.

Inaya opens the door before he can knock, wearing a smart blue kameez over jeans with a long black coat, currently unbuttoned.

She stares at him and his bunch of radishes, carved into roses that afternoon, for only a millisecond.

(It is nice to know that he can surprise her, even with how well she has learned to read him so quickly.)

‘You can carve fruits and vegetables.’

Kareem puts a hand over his heart like she has wounded him.

‘I am an honest man!’

Inaya snorts and rolls her eyes, like she is saying, you could have fooled me.

It is yet another move in the little game that the two of them play.

(The same one they have been playing for weeks now, whenever they happen to run into each other, at dinners at Nani Hazeema’s, and on the Saturday or Sunday mornings that he spends at the café, drinking chai and eating baked goods while he works on his assignments.)

(It is a most enjoyable little game. And not just because it is amusing, breaks up the monotony, the boredom.)

(Far from it.)

He gives her the radish roses, and Inaya smiles, without a twist to it, which makes her look younger and lighter and freer…

…like a girl who has just gotten a flower from a boy she likes, perhaps.

‘Thank you.’

He smiles that same smile back at her, and gestures towards the sidewalk.

‘Shall we, Doc?’

-

Miguel comes home one day with an entirely goofy, on-top-of-the-world grin on his face.

Kamran reckons he looks a bit like a daydreaming in-love Disney princess or the protagonist of a teen romance or something.

(At least, what Kamran thinks those characters look like.)

(He’s not watched a lot of those shows.)

(Apparently, his childhood television programming was not normal.)

(Ammi didn’t like him watching things like that.)

(It’s only pretty recently that he’s started admitting to people that his favourite show is the Great British Bake-Off.)

Miguel looks a little bit sheepish when he walks past, towards his room, but grins a little wider.

‘Nakia and I got coffee after class.’

That’s, what, like the third time this week, Kamran thinks?

-

Miguel finishes reading their house’s plans online, having dug them out of the city archive, and runs back into the kitchen, where a sopping-wet Bruno is unsuccessfully trying to fix the badly-leaking pipe (it’s more of a spurt than a leak), while Kamran and Kareem take turns catching the water in large buckets and dumping it outside.

‘I found the shut-off valve!’

‘Alhamdulillah...’

Kareem follows him outside, leaving Kamran holding both buckets. Miguel takes the spanner Bruno passes him with them.

-

Two hours later, Kamran, Kareem and Miguel are crouching down by their house’s crawlspace entrance, as Bruno makes repairs to the pipes from underneath the house.

Apparently, it was a bigger problem than they’d thought. Bruno sent them to the hardware store with a very specific list while he made plans and apparently double-checked a few things. They’d come back about five minutes ago, and Bruno had taken the newly-acquired supplies and wriggled under the house with his toolkit.

Kamran has no idea why Bruno knows so much about plumbing.

(He admittedly grew up rich, so DIY wasn’t in his family’s vocabulary, but…)

(…he’s pretty sure this isn’t because Bruno grew up poor?)

It’s Bruno, Kamran supposes, so he might have just learned about plumbing when their kitchen started flooding this morning.

‘…uh, I need another pair of hands…’

Bruno’s voice calls out from underneath the house.

Kimo sighs, takes off his jacket, and wriggles into the crawlspace.

-

Twenty minutes later, Bruno and Kareem emerge from underneath the house. Bruno is covered in mud, the consequence of crawling under the house while sopping wet. Kareem is less dirty, but he’s going to need a shower too.

Miguel hands them both towels, and Kamran’s brother nods in thanks at him, before sighing, very exasperatedly.

‘I have rotting leaves in my hair, yes?’

-

(Kimo is really attached to his hair.)

(Takes a long time in the bathroom looking after it.)

(Apparently it takes a fair bit of effort to make his hair look this good?)

-

‘Nakia Bahadir declared me her boyfriend!’

Miguel walks in their front door, takes off his shoes, and declares that with the most on-top-of-the-world joy that Kamran reckons he’s ever heard.

It’s kinda infectious, actually. Kamran finds himself grinning. It seems to have similar effects on Bruno and Kareem, though Kimo looks very exasperated or long-suffering too, for some reason.

(Kamran thinks Kimo might be up to something.)

(There’s been a suspiciously low number of pranks, jokes or other tricks played on him lately.)

‘Congrats, man.’

‘Mashallah…’

-

They’re plopped on the couches for movie night when Bruno pulls his phone out of his pocket, brow furrowing at the FaceTime request. From Kamala, Miguel can see, from his spot next to Bruno.

(Tonight’s feature is Baazigar; Kamran had insisted that it was a classic Miguel had to see, Kareem had agreed, and they’d ribbed Bruno for his tendency to mix up Shah Rukh Khan movies.)

(To be fair to Bruno, Miguel looked up the guy’s filmography, and he’s certainly prolific.)

(Besides, Bruno didn’t quite grow up with Shah Rukh Khan the same way Kamran and Kareem did. It sounds like his exposure was mostly sort-of watching the films with Kamala and her family, who were usually re-watching or just had them on in the background.)

Of course, Bruno immediately answers the call. Kamala’s face appears on his phone screen, sopping wet with her hair plastered to her head. Bruno looks concerned and opens his mouth to say something, but she talks over him.

‘…wait, are you guys watching Baazigar? Bruno, are you watching SRK without me? I can’t believe-‘

‘Kamala, are you okay?’ She blinks, then nods, scrunching up her face a little as she tries to wring her hair out one-handed, not very successfully, as Bruno continues. ‘Tell me this isn’t a Black Sloth Down-equivalent Incident…’

He says that very exasperatedly and somewhat concernedly. Miguel exchanges a look with Kamran and Kareem. Kamran grins. Kareem looks, to Miguel, like he’s tearing his hair out internally.

‘No, no, there were no rivers involved, just…’ Kamala makes a face that can only be described as oopsies and zooms out to show a bathroom sink. The tap has come clean off and is sitting in the sink, which is full of water. More water spurts out of the place where the tap was. ‘…help me, Bruno, you’re my only hope!’

Well, that probably explains Bruno’s odd knowledge of plumbing.

-

Kareem has learned, corresponding with Uncle Yusuf, that Uncle has tried many things already to make his daughter and her best friend see.

He has tried hinting.

He has tried recreating portions of his son Aamir’s wedding, by playing recordings of a Bon Jovi cover band ridiculously named Brown Jovi.

(Apparently, Bruno and Kamala had had a good time dancing together to Brown Jovi at Aamir’s wedding. Uncle Yusuf had been very hopeful that that would be the night, and it would be the most joyful night of his life, but it was not to be.)

Uncle has tried sending them on a romantic dinner date by pretending to have a headache, and telling them that the reservation he made to take his wife out for dinner should not be wasted.

He has tried playing romantic Bollywood movies and songs whenever Bruno comes over for dinner, which is, seemingly, very frequently, if he is not working in the Circle-Q.

He has even tried something even more ludicrous: Uncle pretended to hit his head, causing him to declare that he wanted to send Kamala to Pakistan for an arranged marriage. That had backfired, as these things tend to do. The apparent sudden complete personality change, his family had decided, could not just be attributed to his head knock, and they had become very worried that he had a brain tumour.

(Honestly.)

(It appears this is where Kamala gets it from.)

Honestly.

Kareem does not understand how Bruno is still a little worried about receiving a don’t-get-ideas-about-my-daughter talk from Uncle Yusuf when the Khans clearly love him like he is already a member of their family, and Uncle Yusuf is actively (very much so) attempting to ensure that Bruno becomes his son-in-law.

The information from Uncle confirms what Kareem already knew: it is going to take something very significant to make these two see.

The situation is not helped by the distance between them while they are at college.

Kareem resolves to keep nudging Bruno, as it cannot hurt, but he accepts that there is little he can do until Winter Break, at soonest, when they both go back home to Jersey City.

He commiserates with Uncle, who clearly needs someone to commiserate with, but does his best to steer the man away from more ludicrous plots.

It is not close proximity or quality time together or romantic situations that Bruno and Kamala need.

(They have had plenty of those over their many years of friendship already.)

(Locking them in Auntie’s little sewing room, for example, will likely simply produce a very, very long, winding conversation about sandwiches or corn dogs or the meta implications of Ant-Man’s podcast in the Ms Marvel comics or what would happen if a flerken – whatever that is – ate a Pym particle – whatever that is…)

(…and possibly, mild destruction of the contents of said sewing room.)

(Kamala is very clumsy, and very…expressive, especially when excited and doubly more so when fangirling. It’s Kamala, Bruno says by way of explanation.)

No, no, these approaches will not work.

They must both be made to see – through all of their denials and insistences that they are just best friends, that they are simply projecting their wishes and hopes and dreams onto the other – that the other loves them the same way they love them. That these feelings that they have developed now they are grown-up are requited, and not a risk to their treasured friendship that neither is willing to risk.

The question, Kareem knows, is simply, how?

Chapter Text

The next two sections of Kareem’s plan take time, more than anything. He scales back for now.

Besides, he is a busy man.

He cannot spend every hour of every day fixing this stupidity that is sure to drive him slowly insane.

He has classes to pass.

Self-defence at the student union to teach.

He has his music and his exercise and his friends.

He also has a girlfriend.

Kareem smiles as he meets Inaya at the café after her shift. She has a red scarf folded and tied around her head as a hairband, and leans over to whisper an idea into his ear, with a knowing little ghost of a smirk on her face.

‘I like the way you think, Doc.’

‘Again, idle flattery will get you nowhere.’

He smiles, knowing it is almost a smirk…

…and knowing that Inaya finds it very charming.

‘It is never idle. And can it be flattery if it is the truth?’

‘Out of your mouth? Yes!’

‘Thank you, Doc, I am very flattered.’

She snorts and rolls her eyes at him, but it is unmistakably fond.

(Far more, actually.)

He squeezes her hand, and she squeezes back, and they walk towards campus.

Inaya has tutoring to do. Kareem supposes he has a couple of assignments he should work on.

-

A series of text messages exchanged by Bruno Carrelli and Kamala Khan:

Bruno: [A photo of Mahnoor Ahmed, looking extremely delighted with a bright, wide grin that is not shadowed by her dupatta in the slightest, standing next to a croquembouche that is as tall as she is. The photo was taken by Bruno’s roommate/best friend, Kamran Shah. The croquembouche is perfectly-imperfect, and extravagantly and beautifully decorated with toffee threads and chopped pistachios.]

It's taller than you!

Kamala: JUST

you said Mahnoor’s only like an inch taller than me

was it tasty?

Bruno: an inch is an inch, she’s still taller

Delicious!

Kamala: TECHNICALLY

We’re going to grand opening day when Mahnoor opens her bakery!!!!

Also, literally all Mahnoor did was mention to Kamran that her life’s dream was to build a very tall croquembouche and he ran home and got you onto croquembouche math and building an armature, right?

Bruno: yup

The math was more interesting than I thought actually

Kamala: OTP MATERIAL!!!!

I can have several OTPs Bruno!!!!!!!

Bruno: yeah, that makes sense, KK

Kamala: [A selfie in which she is sticking her tongue out at Bruno. Her hair is piled into a messy bun on her head; there is a pencil stuck in it that she has most likely forgotten about.]

Bruno: [A selfie in which he is sitting in the driver’s seat of Kamran’s black Porsche, parked in their driveway. He is wearing sunglasses and trying to look cool, possibly unsuccessfully and somewhat exaggeratedly.]

Kamala: KAMRAN LET YOU DRIVE HIS BABY?!?!

Bruno: croquembouche math

Kamala: I gotta find a way to do that guy a solid…

-

He might be starting to understand cricket, Miguel thinks, as he sits on the couch with his best friends, who are all absorbed in the game on the TV.

(It’s the Cricket World Cup, and this is one of the apparently very rare games between Pakistan and India.)

He leans over and grabs another slice of the paneer tikka pizza, just as a wave of complaints begins.

‘Why are you reviewing that, Babar?’

‘That’s clearly plum lbw.’

‘Why are they all terrible at using DRS?’

Then again, Miguel thinks wryly…

…maybe he still doesn’t get cricket.

He mentally shrugs and takes a large bite of paneer tikka pizza.

-

After they’ve scarfed down chapli kebab burgers for dinner – made with leftover chapli kebab that Nani Hazeema had sent them home with two nights ago – Bruno microwaves Mahnoor’s latest ‘leftover homework’, then brings the cinnamon rolls over to the table.

Said cinnamon rolls have the addition of cloves and nutmeg and ginger to them, and the usual cream cheese frosting has been replaced with a khoya frosting. They’re also topped with chopped nuts.

Mahnoor had called them ABCD cinnamon rolls, with a mischievous grin partially hidden by her dupatta.

Bruno takes a photo of his cinnamon roll and texts it to KK, along with Mahnoor’s name for her creation, before digging in.

Next to him, Miguel – who is rather sleep-deprived after a gruelling assignment – chews and swallows his bite, then gestures to his dessert with a fork and addresses Kamran.

‘You should just ask her to marry you, bro.’

Kamran stares at him for a second. He looks mildly panicked, before protesting.

‘I don’t know why you’re suggesting that, man?’

Bruno thinks Kareem is face-palming internally, maybe. Still, Kareem leans back in his chair, holding his cinnamon roll plate in one hand and pointing at his brother with his fork using the other.

‘It is a good idea, brother.’

In response, Kamran lobs a balled-up napkin at Miguel, which hits him. Miguel doesn’t seem to care, because he’s too busy laughing in the hysterical way that people can get when they haven’t had enough sleep.

Kamran also lobs a balled-up napkin at Kareem, who dodges, of course, laughing his head off in a decidedly non-hysterical fashion.

Bruno elects to say nothing and just enjoys his cinnamon roll.

(Kareem and Miguel’s teasing does have a point, since it’s obvious that Mahnoor feels the same way about Kamran...)

(…obviously, because of that, Bruno’s situation is not actually truly comparable…)

(…but, still, people who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones, okay?)

-

‘…how does your little plot go?’

Over their dinner at a Persian restaurant the next town over, Inaya asks that of Kareem, a wry little smile playing on her face.

(It is a rare night of complete leisure for her. They are taking advantage of it to go on a proper dinner date.)

‘Slowly.’

‘As slow as planned, or…’

He sighs, even as he smiles, knowing it is gentle and fond.

‘I have idiots for roommates.’

Kareem knows that is also fond, even if he is so exasperated at this stupidity, he wants to tear his hair out.

(He will not actually, if only because Inaya would never let him hear the end of it.)

Inaya arches a brow at him for a beat, before smiling and putting a comforting hand on his arm. He smiles back at her, and shifts to tangle their fingers together. She smiles a touch wider at that.

She knows.

He knows that she knows.

And he knows that Inaya will keep his secrets.

(She trusts him to do the same.)

(She trusts him to see that tenderness behind her fire that she guards so ferociously.)

‘I do not know what I would do without you, Doc.’

‘Tear your hair out, I am sure.’

Kareem smiles his near-smirk.

‘And that would be a tragedy, would it not?’

Inaya snorts and rolls her eyes at him.

-

(Thank you, my love.)

(Of course, always, my love.)

-

On a Thursday night, the fridge emptier than it probably should be, the four of them dig into their bowls of ramen.

As evidenced by the fact that they haven’t gotten scurvy, they are not living off ramen, as Bruno tells Mrs K every time she calls to check in.

(He also tells KK this at least once a month, because she is firmly of the opinion that living off ramen is no way to live.)

(Kamala is sometimes her mother’s daughter.)

(Like when she scrunches her face up a little in a way that he finds adorable – yeah, Bruno knows he’s a goner – at Hostess Cherry Pies.)

(Mrs K doesn’t count them as food. Kamala has deemed them exclusively apocalypse supplies.)

They don’t eat that much ramen now they have a proper kitchen and aren’t subjected to dining hall fare.

Besides, when they do eat ramen, they trick it out with whatever else they can find.

For example, today, they’ve added some frozen veggies, the chunks of leftover chicken breast in their fridge, a boiled egg each and a bit of the leftover tandoori paste they had for seasoning.

It’s not bad, as far as their culinary endeavours go.

Bruno smiles wryly through his mouthful of ramen.

Mrs Khan probably wouldn’t agree, though.

-

‘…it’s not like this when Abuela makes it.’

Miguel studies the dough for his attempt at making his abuela’s potato empanada recipe. Bruno, who is making a second CookBot at the dining table, looks up and nods in agreement, wryly and a little bit sheepishly. Kamran and Kareem look up from the couch, where Kamran is watching the F1, while Kareem – somewhat reluctantly – works on an assignment on his laptop.

Kamran speaks.

‘Want me to text Mahnoor to ask how to fix it? She’s really good with pastry…’

The other three of them exchange knowing looks.

-

Fifteen minutes later, Miguel is on video chat with Mama and Abuela, who are coaching him through fixing the dough.

Bruno’s put down his project to help out, grating butter on his left, while Kamran peels the potatoes.

Meanwhile, Kareem smiles very charmingly at Mama and Abuela, saying it is probably his fault, baked goods never go right when he is around.

-

‘…it is beautiful as always, sister! They do say we eat with our eyes first, no?’

Kareem praises the beautiful spiced dark chocolate tart that Mahnoor has made for dessert. It has candied orange peel curls on top, and, he heard her explaining to Kamran earlier, it has orange marmalade spread in the tart shell too.

As Mahnoor smiles, even as she ducks her head at the praise and Nani catches his eye and gives the smallest of approving nods, Inaya picks up the thread.

‘It certainly seems as if it will satisfy any chocolate cravings.’

Mahnoor smiles warmly at Inaya, this smile unhidden by her dupatta, as Kamran takes a bite of the tart slice he is handed, and immediately begins a soliloquy straight out of some baking show.

-

Kamran’s compliments are earnest and ridiculous and somewhat word-vomited.

Honestly.

His brother is usually smoother than this. Cooler and more charming.

But, Kareem notes, it is Kamran’s compliments – as opposed to his or Inaya’s or Nani’s or Miguel’s or Bruno’s or Kamala’s via Bruno – that sit deepest in Mahnoor’s heart, make her smile brilliantly at his brother, not hidden with a duck of her head or in the shadow of her dupatta in the slightest.

And in turn, those brilliant smiles make Kamran look at her like she is in the sun and moon and stars.

Honestly.

-

As Kamran and Mahnoor laugh together over a couple slices of her latest creations, Kareem looks up from his assignment and makes eye contact with Inaya, who is working behind the counter at their neighbourhood café.

He gestures with a subtle nod of his head towards his brother and her best friend, as if to say, this is what I live with every day, Doc. Kamran is currently looking particularly besotted, while Mahnoor is focused on analysing the layers of her torte critically. Kareem’s girlfriend arches a brow slightly at him, but gives a nod in acknowledgement. Her expression then shifts slightly, subtly, a ghost of a smile coming to her face, and he knows that she is most amused by the sheer exasperation she can read on his. Kareem smiles, nearly a smirk. (He is very glad he can serve as entertainment for her.) Inaya snorts and rolls her eyes at him, but in his eyes, it is far, far too fond (loving) to be reproving. He smirks a little wider, and gets a headshake from her too.

-

Hazeema shakes her head as Miguel insists on helping her over to the couch after dinner one Saturday evening, because her back and her knee are aching badly today. Like all the other young people have, he waves off her protests and her insistence that she is not an invalid, and once she is comfortably seated, he hurries back over to the dining table to begin ferrying the dirty dishes into the kitchen, where Kareem and Bruno are washing up the pots and pans already.

Meanwhile, Kamran is polishing off seconds of dessert, while Hazeema’s granddaughter, Inaya and Miguel’s young lady, Nakia, whom he brought along for dinner tonight, pack up the leftovers, chatting as they do so.

Hazeema hopes that Mahnoor and Nakia and Inaya will become friends. Inaya works too hard and is thus rather socially isolated, for she is simply always busy. Mahnoor is a wonderful, strong, kind, compassionate, brave, beautiful young woman, and Hazeema tells her so often, but she is shy, finds it hard to make friends, and Hazeema knows that such messages will be more heard and heeded and internalized from friends.

-

Later that evening, Hazeema eavesdrops, watches, as Kareem and Inaya say goodnight on the porch.

(Miguel is walking Nakia back to her dorm, while Kamran and Bruno have headed home already.)

She is an old woman; let her have the fun she can get!

Besides, she still has some tricks up her sleeves to let her stay ahead of the young ones, though Inaya and Kareem, with their sharp wits, will surely best her soon, and young Miguel and Nakia are not far behind.

Inaya is very concerned right now, Hazeema knows. Something has happened with her family.

(Her eldest brother is…deeply unwell. The help he needs is very draining to her family, who do not have much to begin with.)

(She has two younger sisters whose opportunities to get an education she worries for. Inaya works so hard despite her scholarship to squirrel away every cent she can for college funds for Sadia and Aliyah.)

Hazeema eavesdrops, and she watches.

Inaya and Kareem have whole conversations that are not wholly in words, or, at least, not wholly in the words said out-loud.

Kareem says something to Inaya, smiling, entirely genuinely, young and open, with only the slightest hint of that charm of his. It is something like no, you are particularly stubborn and extraordinarily strong, Doc.

That makes Inaya smile that same smile back at him, and he rests his forehead against hers for a long moment, clasping her hands in his. When they pull away, Kareem tucks a loose lock of hair that has escaped her ponytail back behind her ear. Inaya leans a little into that touch, seemingly unconsciously, and takes a deep breath, before flinging her arms around him. That does not startle Kareem, who just holds her back until she takes another deep breath and lets go. He then whispers something into her ear that Hazeema is sure, even if she cannot hear it or read his lips from this angle, is I am watching your back, Inaya. That makes her smile at him again, soft and unguarded. Loving.

Hazeema smiles to herself as she makes her way slowly back over to the couch.

Mashallah, they found each other.

Now, if only her granddaughter and Kamran could see what they have found…

…or at the very least, young Bruno and his best friend, Kamala, who sounds like a very fun and lively and lovely young woman.

(She has schooled Kareem to be patient, that he should not expect everything to occur quickly simply because he is young and his legs are quick!)

(And yet, she understands how his patience has been tested, for hers has been too.)

(She simply has the wisdom and age of her years that make it easier for her to bear.)

-

Kareem picks up two sections of the large, thick branch that’d fallen in Nani, Mahnoor and Inaya’s yard, which he has just finished chopping up.

It is just him in the yard today; there is not much to be done as spring is not truly here yet.

He smiles at Inaya as she walks up after her shift at the café, to have a short lunch break before heading off for her tutoring sessions.

She smiles back at him, coming over as he tries to blow a stray lock of his hair out of the way.

(His hair tie is wearing out, and he worked up a bit of a sweat, going for a morning run today before coming to cut up the branch.)

His girlfriend arches a brow pointedly at him, before – as his hands are full with tree branch – reaching over to tug his hair tie free. She puts the worn-out hair tie into her pocket, brow arching a little more. Kareem’s expression turns ever-so-slightly sheepish, even as he smirks at her. Inaya snorts and shakes her head, but very tenderly, gently, pulls a spare hair tie from her wrist and ties his hair back up for him.

She also leans over to kiss him.

-

(It is trust and faith of the highest order. It is a glimpse into that tenderness, that softness, that she guards so carefully. It is her love.)

(Kareem will always treat these as the precious treasures that they are.)

-

On the third morning of Ramadan, before sunrise, as he and Kamran eat suhoor, Kareem breaks the contemplative silence. Kamran is staring at his phone, which only minutes ago, had buzzed with an invitation to iftar with Mahnoor, Nani and Inaya.

(It is a standing invitation, Kareem well-knows. Yet Mahnoor will kindly send an invitation to his brother every day if need be, to show him that he is most welcome at their table, that he is valued and loved.)

(They will take them up on the invitation, of course. Bruno, and likely Miguel and Nakia, will come too. Bruno has even gotten recipes from Auntie Muneeba for her iftar classics, as he calls them, a term certainly borrowed from Kamala; they had had excellent fruit chaat as part of last night’s iftar.)

‘They say that love is a gift, brother.’ Kareem waits for his brother to look up at him, for that little sigh that is replaced a moment later with earnest seriousness. ‘Something we are given, whether we believe we deserve it or not.’ He pauses, voice gentling as much as he can. ‘You loved your mother.’ Kamran may still love her, in fact, even after everything. Kareem will not go near that wound, though. ‘Did she deserve that gift?’ Kamran swallows, shakes his head silently. ‘And yet, you gave it to her anyway.’

He waits as Kamran eats and contemplates for a couple minutes, eating and drinking himself.

Mahnoor knows the truth, about Kamran and his family. About his mother. About the shadows that haunt him, still, and where they came from.

Kamran told her. Sat down and actually told her one evening, when the rest of them were busy and Nani was insisting that she is not too old to cook a simple meal.

That had genuinely surprised and shocked Kareem.

And he knows that that, in and of itself, means a lot.

(Kareem knows the full story because he was there. Because he saw it and lived it in some way.)

(Bruno knows the full story because he understands, because he lived it.)

(Miguel has learned most of the story in bits and pieces over their time as roommates and friends.)

(No-one else knows the story.)

Kamran may have told her the story to scare her off, to have her run before he gets in to deep, even if that point has already passed, but…

(Kamran has self-sabotaging, self-destructive tendencies.)

(He is working on them.)

…even then, that means a lot.

Kareem continues.

‘Kamran, if Mahnoor were asked, if you were a good man or your mother’s son, if you deserved her love, if you were worthy of her…’ Kamran’s eyes go wider and wider, for he is not quite ready to admit his feelings, his love, out-loud, but tellingly, his brother does not interrupt him with those foolish protests or denials. ‘…what would she say?’

-

‘…what would she say?’

Mahnoor is as soft and sweet and delicate and beautiful as any of her desserts, but she has a spine of steel, Kamran thinks.

When he’d told her everything…she didn’t look at him like he’s all those shadows inside, like he’s fucked up or damaged goods. She’d looked horrified, but for him, not at him. She didn’t look at him differently. She’d just wiped her eyes and pulled him into a hug, and when he’d headed home after dinner, after Nani had plied him with extra chicken karahi, she’d sent him home with a big box of her homework, sweet rolls spiced with saffron and cardamon and studded with raisins, that smelled like sugar and spices and yeast and heaven.

Kamran swallows and speaks.

‘She’d defend me.’ He’s not that good with expressing emotions – part of his brain that sounds too much like Ammi screams at him that that is weakness, you soft-hearted fool – but he knows that Kimo will hear at least some of the emotion he says that with. The emotions he doesn’t dare to really admit, the emotions that are so much, contain so much, that he couldn’t express them wholly even if he tried. He swallows again, voice a little rough when he continues. ‘Even…even to myself.’

Kamran had had a dream, the other night, one that had been so vivid, it’d somehow felt very, very real.

In that dream, he’d been standing outside Ammi’s jail cell, and Ammi had been sitting there in the orange prison jumpsuit like it was the finest shalwar kameez and like it was a business meeting, except her face had turned hard and cold (weakness, you soft-hearted fool!) but…

…he hadn’t been alone.

By his side, Mahnoor had spoken up, vehemently. Defended him against his ammi, all strength and courage and spine of steel, face not hidden or shadowed by her dupatta, drawn to her full height.

‘Kamran is the strongest man I know! He endured all you did to him, he withstood all you tried to mould him into, and remained good and moral and kind, and then he remade himself and his life when you shattered it all! You betrayed him first, decades ago.’

It’d been so vivid a dream – felt so real – he somehow can still remember the words.

That vehemence, like she’d defend him against anyone, even himself.

Kamran takes a deep breath, realises he’s smiling a little despite himself. He looks up from staring at his phone on the table to see Kareem nodding in agreement. He takes another deep breath and nods too, smiling a little at his brother.

(Kimo has done so much for him, helped him and saved him and helped him heal – loved him and supported him when Kamran decidedly didn’t deserve it, even when he lashed out at him when his fear and anger just got to be too much – and he will never be able to repay his brother for his kindness and generosity…)

(…but he knows that Kareem would never take repayment even if he could.)

Kareem smiles back, as if saying, there is never a debt, brother. He reaches out over the table to clasp Kamran’s forearm, a gesture that he returns, smile widening a little.

-

When they clean up their dishes, before prayers, Kamran reaches out and clasps his brother’s hand to pull him into a hug, rests his forehead against Kareem’s for a beat. Kareem pats him on the back with a smile.

-

(Kamran’s not sure he deserves this. Isn’t sure he deserves a brother – the best he could be hoped to be blessed with, even if he’s sometimes a pain in the ass. Isn’t sure he deserves friends who are like family and all this love.)

(But Kareem is right, love is a gift.)

(All he supposes that he can do is to do good acts, to strive for kindness and compassion and generosity, all the things his mother didn’t teach him, taught him were weakness, and try to be worthy of this love.)

Chapter Text

Eid al-Adha somehow sneaks up on Bruno every year. It always feels like Eid has just been celebrated.

Kamala says it is because Eid ul-Fitr is the big one, and thus should be called Greater Eid (which is what she calls it), and their people know how to celebrate, Bruno!

She’s not wrong.

It might also be the same effect that causes the period between Thanksgiving and Christmas to seem inexplicably short.

But for obvious reasons, Bruno is well-aware of Ramadan, and thus, Eid ul-Fitr never has the same effect.

This year, it’s during Spring Break, so he talked to KK, and then Mr and Mrs Khan, to invite Kamran and Kareem to come home with him to Jersey City to celebrate.

(The break isn’t long enough for Kareem to go back to Karachi – he’s got no living family, but Kareem is close to his childhood friends, especially Faizaan. They have virtual jam sessions.)

(Kamran…well, he moved around a lot growing up, he says. Bruno’s not sure he has a place that he calls home.)

Mr and Mrs K had been very enthusiastic about him bringing his friends home with him for break and Eid.

Very, very enthusiastic.

(They’re the Khans.)

-

‘I know you’re good at this sort of thing, man, but…’ Across the dining table the evening before they leave for Jersey City, Bruno stares at Kareem – or more accurately, over his shoulder – for a beat, before looking down at his hands on the table and giving his head a little shake. Kareem does not sigh internally, because he had anticipated this. He has sat Bruno down in order to attempt to get the obvious – what everyone else, save Kamala, can so clearly see – through his clearly very thick skull. Bruno, however, does sigh. ‘…look, we’ve been best friends for years and…she’s Kamala Khan.’

Bruno says his best friend’s name like it explains everything.

Like it is everything.

Kareem is silent for a beat, carefully calculated, before he speaks. Simply. Plainly. Genuinely. And as gently as he can manage.

‘You say her name like that.’ He waits for that to sink in. ‘And how does she say yours?’

Bruno looks away again, but he does not protest this time.

In fact, he falls into contemplative silence.

Kareem can read the growing hope on his face and in his posture, the hope that Bruno has never been able to give up on, never been able to let go of.

He smiles to himself and makes an exit.

He has some packing to do.

-

After sunset, a bit late for iftar, they pull up in Kamran’s car outside a modest green house in Jersey City.

The house is smaller and older than what he’s used to, but it does have a nice, homey sort of feel, Kamran thinks.

Kamala’s standing on the front porch, snacking on a plate of food, but as soon as they come into view, she puts down the plate of food absent-mindedly – it’s on a somewhat haphazard angle on the little table on the porch – and runs down the path, grinning.

Bruno is basically tackled by her as soon as he gets out of the car. He has to take a half-step back and brace, actually.

‘You’re home!’

The way Kamala says it, there’s an obvious finally there.

Kamran exchanges a look with his brother over their heads.

(Kamala’s short. Bruno’s tucked his head over her shoulder.)

Bruno laughs in response, even if Kamala probably talked too loudly too close to his left ear.

‘Missed you too, KK.’

‘Missed you more! Don’t start on how that’s, like, mathematically impossible or something, Bruno, ‘cos it’s not!’

Kamala declares that very imperiously, insistently.

As Kamala finally lets go of Bruno and comes over to say hi to him and Kareem, Kamran catches a look on Bruno’s face that is kinda like the look he has when he’s analysing some chemical reaction or math problem that none of the rest of them get. Like his brain is ticking over.

-

He and Kareem are warmly welcomed by Mr and Mrs Khan – Uncle Yusuf and Auntie Muneeba – to their home, and Bruno is also pulled into tight hugs by Kamala’s parents (it’s apparently a family thing?). They all eat a delicious iftar.

The entire thing – the iftar, the crowd, the house – is far less fancy and fine than what Kamran’s used to (or was, anyway), but…

…it’s warm and nice and comfortable and homey.

He’d…he’d like to get used to this, he thinks.

-

After they say goodnight to the Khans, Kareem, Kamran and Bruno drive further into Jersey City, towards Bruno’s family home.

(Kareem and Kamran are crashing with the Carrellis for Spring Break.)

The Circle-Q downstairs is still open, and Bruno leads them into the store, where an older woman is unpacking a box of Twinkies, putting them on the shelves. Bruno’s nonna looks older than her years, Kareem notes, prematurely aged by a hard life. But she smiles warmly at Bruno, and they have very similar smiles, he notes. Bruno insistently takes the box of Twinkies from his nonna, and she pulls him into a tight hug. Afterwards, just as insistently, he persuades his nonna to sit down on the stool behind the counter, while he finishes unpacking the box of Twinkies and closes up the shop with the ease of long practice. Kamran heads out back towards the dumpster to break down the Twinkie box and take out the trash, while Kareem hands the two bags of food that Auntie Muneeba would not let them leave without to Bruno’s nonna, who insists that they call her Nonna Carrelli, or just Nonna, as everyone does.

Nonna Carrelli, Kareem notes, takes out one of the boxes – packed with a mixture of dishes instead of just one – out of the top of one bag. This one is also wrapped in a tea towel, to keep it warm. He ducks behind the counter and searches for the cutlery box he is sure is there, passing Nonna Carrelli a spork to eat her dinner with before she can get off her stool.

-

A series of text messages sent between Kareem Ali and his girlfriend, Inaya Braroo:

Kareem: Eid Mubarak, Inaya

[A selfie of him and Kamran, dressed for the Jersey City Masjid’s Eid ul-Fitr celebrations. Kamran is wearing dark-wash jeans with a charcoal dress shirt and a smart maroon jacket with shearling-lined collar. Kareem is dressed more traditionally, in dark brown shalwar with a beige kameez and matching sadri.]

[A group photo of the two brothers with Bruno, taken by Kamala. They have their arms around each other’s shoulders. Bruno is wearing a blue shalwar kameez with a teal sadri.]

[A photo of the Khan family – Muneeba and Yusuf Khan, as well as Aamir Khan and his wife Tyesha, and Kamala and Bruno – with Kamran and Kareem. The photo was taken with some help from Zuzu. Muneeba is wearing a lovely deep green shalwar kameez with matching dupatta. Yusuf has a striped pashmina wrapped over his shoulders. Tyesha is colourfully dressed – complete with a bold yellow headscarf – in a loudly-patterned maxi-skirt, purple knit turtleneck shirt and yellow coat. This contrasts with Aamir, who is wearing a smart grey shalwar kameez with navy sadri. Kamala is wearing a yellow-gold kameez with complementary bold blue shalwar and dupatta.]

Inaya: Eid Mubarak!

[A selfie of Inaya with her two younger sisters, Sadia and Aliyah. All three of the Braroo sisters are wearing fine shalwar kameez with matching dupattas draped around their necks. Inaya’s is rich blue, while Sadia’s is deep maroon and Aliyah’s turquoise. They all have their hair in two braids, which makes them look very young.]

[A panoramic photo of their masjid’s Eid celebrations, which while smaller than the Jersey City Masjid’s, are no lesser in the sense of joy and community.]

Kareem: everyone will think I am a cradle robber, Doc

Inaya: I suppose that one day that will sound like flattery

Kareem: you know me too well

Inaya: you mean I am willing to hold you to account?

Kareem: the first is required for the second, no?

[A photo of the traditional ice-cream-pizza served at the Jersey City Masjid’s Eid celebrations.]

Inaya: Ice-cream-pizza?

Kareem: Combining two of the only good American foods only ruins both of them

Inaya: you ate some?

If I did not know better, who are you and what have you done with the real Kareem?

Kareem: I am told it is an essential part of Eid here

Inaya: when in Jersey…

Kareem: precisely Doc

-

Kareem smiles at his phone; he can see Inaya arching a sardonic brow as she types out Ice-cream-pizza?

He looks up, to find Kamala beelining over to him.

She delights in his and Inaya’s relationship, which she hears about second-hand from Bruno, of course. Kareem has heard the adjective interesting to describe his and Inaya’s relationship many times. It has a slightly different intonation from Kamala.

(She reads too many stories.)

Well, this saves him from having to find a moment to speak to her. Kareem smiles a little wider, knowing that his smile twists a little with a touch of a smirk.

‘Mashallah, love is a wonderful thing, sister.’ He gestures meaningfully over to where Bruno is talking to her parents, Aamir and Tyesha. All five of them are laughing. Auntie Muneeba is attempting to feed Bruno more pakoras. Kamala stares at the tableau for a moment, smiling too, soft and sweet and slow. Kareem then looks pointedly at her.  She flushes a little. (It is so obvious. Kamala is so oblivious. Bruno is such a fool, for all his intelligence.) He continues, keeping his voice quiet and gentle. ‘I live with him, sister. Perhaps I can open your eyes?’

Kamala stares at her family and Bruno for a beat longer. Auntie is now scolding Uncle for thieving two pakoras and stuffing them in his mouth in one go. Aamir has taken his mother’s distraction as an opportunity to take two more, one for himself and one for his wife, who smiles and shakes her head at him, even as she takes the one he offers her. Bruno is grinning through his own mouthful.

Then, she speaks.

‘It’s not…I mean, he’s Bruno and I’m…’

Honestly.

They even say each other’s names the same way.

(If he cannot make them see before the end of Spring Break…)

‘…Kamala Khan, to quote him.’

That makes her blink at him, before a little furrow comes to her brow as her expression turns thoughtful.

They are silent for a long moment, before she breaks it.

‘You really are good at, like, spy stuff, aren’t you?’

Kareem nods, a wry smirk coming to his face.

‘I have my talents.’

Kamala is quiet again for a beat, that furrow returning to her brow as she turns her gaze back to her family and Bruno. Uncle Yusuf now has a mollifying arm around his wife. Bruno is now holding the plate of pakoras. Aamir and Tyesha have reached for each other’s hands.

She then turns back to him.

‘You really think-‘

‘Yes.’ His tone turns serious again, as genuine and kind as he can make it. (Love, especially this kind of love, is a thing of wonder and beauty. Kareem can plot and manipulate, he can resort to the ridiculous if he must, all to help his fools of brothers see – to get the chance at this love - but there is no other tone for speaking honestly about something so precious.) ‘He does, just as much as you do.’

Kamala takes a breath, and looks back over at that tableau once more. Uncle Yusuf has now put an arm around Bruno, who is blinking a little at whatever Uncle is saying to him with great glee. Bruno’s confusion does not disguise the fondness, the love, that is, to Kareem, written clear across his face. Tyesha and Auntie Muneeba have their heads close together, smiling. Aamir is now snacking on the pakoras.

She smiles soft and sweet and slow again, this one even wider than the last.

-

Bruno put on his blue shalwar kameez and teal sadri this morning, just like he does every Eid.

(Yeah, look, he’s well-aware that he doesn’t have that much variety in his wardrobe.)

(But he thinks that his jeans and T-shirts and flannels and puffer vests and hoodies look pretty good on him, and they’re comfortable and suitable for his lifestyle.)

(By the same token, his Eid shalwar kameez and the blue suit he wears for formal occasions – weddings, Proms, Homecomings – are appropriate, reasonably comfortable and he thinks he looks good.)

(He’d been worried the teal sadri was a bit too bright, especially when paired with the bold blue of the shalwar kameez, but, as KK says, it’s Eid.)

(Besides, apparently, blue is his colour.)

‘…it is a very nice shalwar kameez, and a lovely sadri, beta, you did a good job choosing them, but we really should take you shopping for a new one, so you can have more variety…’

Bruno has found himself somewhat encircled by Mrs K and Auntie Humaira, who are studying his outfit and debating colour choices. He’s pretty sure that Auntie Nazia – who runs a clothing store and from whom he purchased this shalwar kameez and sadri in the first place – is going to appear from nowhere in a moment.

‘…orange would be a good contrast, if it is the right shade…’

‘…certainly red looks good with your colouring too, beta, even if blue is your best colour…’

‘Hey Ammi, hey Auntie!’ Kamala pops up by his side, tilting her head a little to the left and grinning a little mischievously, teasingly. ‘Red, blue and orange are all Bruno’s colours! But maybe not all at once...’ She smirks, exaggeratedly rubbing her chin. ‘Then again, I mean…’

She trails off pointedly. Bruno looks wryly at her.

‘Not everyone can pull off blue and orange stripes?’

Kamala nods sagely, and ‘rescues’ him from the clutches of the Illuminaunties, dragging him off to go get gulab jamun and knafeh, because it’s Eid.

-

‘…where’s Bruno?’

Kamran asks that of his brother the morning after Eid. Maybe Bruno’s working in the Circle-Q, covering a shift for someone so his nonna doesn’t have to?

Kimo smirks over his mug of chai.

‘He is busy.’ He gestures at the ceiling. ‘He and Kamala are having an important conversation.’

‘Finally?’

Kareem’s tone and expression turn very dry.

‘Yes.’

Kamran takes a sip of his coffee.

‘…we should make ourselves busy today, shouldn’t we, man?’

Kareem arches a brow at him, and continues even more dryly.

‘Yes, brother, unless you want to be the third and fourth wheel.’ He pauses. ‘More than we would have been before.’

-

Kamran and Kareem spend the day playing tourists in New York City. Kareem grumbles several times about Americans. They get artisan donuts. They try what Bruno calls NY pizza – which is apparently distinct from NJ pizza. Kamran drags Kareem to Times Square, despite Kareem grumbling about American tourist traps. They eat lunch at one of the Halal Guys franchise carts, and agree that Kamala’s insistence that Halal Guys is way superior to Five Guys is – unlike many things that Kamala says – not exaggerated and ridiculous.

They are also treated to dinner – or, Kamran thinks, more accurately, Kareem is treated to dinner; he’s just along for the ride – by a gleeful, delighted Uncle Yusuf.

-

Two days after Eid, Kareem receives a text from an unknown number.

It’s Sadia, the text says.

Inaya’s older younger sister is sixteen, and every bit as sharp-witted as his girlfriend.

Sadia has also texted him another picture of herself, Inaya and Aliyah. In said photo, Inaya is wearing a charcoal leather jacket, his birthday gift to her.

(Kareem has his sources.)

(Said sources told him that Inaya very much wanted this jacket, but could not afford it.)

(Or, rather, she could afford it, but she would not use her hard-earned money for something that she will tell herself is so trivial. Will not use her hard-earned money on herself.)

Sadia continues with two more lines of text:

Aliyah, Saleem, Alishba and I all approve.

Saleem is Inaya’s younger elder brother, Alishba is his wife.

Kareem knows that Sadia will not tell him – and he will not ask – what Mahmood, the eldest Braroo sibling, thinks.

Inaya will hardly acknowledge him as her brother.

(Mahmood has made it clear many times that he does not approve of his sister’s choices. Therapy for his anger, what it has been twisted into…it does not help. Kareem can read between the lines. He is sure that Inaya thinks that Mahmood believes that she should not even have choices.)

Ammi and Abbu will too.

That is all Sadia says.

Well, that is a hurry up if he has ever heard one.

Not that Kareem needs it.

He feels his smile soften.

He will speak to Inaya once they are back at school.

-

(Kareem pulls up some sheet music, for a song that has never been recorded, for it did not exist until recently and is not yet complete, and considers making a couple of tweaks.)

-

In the front passenger and driver’s seats of Kamran’s Porsche respectively, Kareem and Kamran exchange a glance outside the Khan family home.

Bruno and Kamala are on the porch, saying goodbye. They are currently wrapped in a tight hug, and Bruno has tucked his head over her shoulder again. When he lets go – obviously reluctantly – he hesitates for the slightest of moments, before pressing a kiss to the top of her head. When she smiles up at him, soft and sweet and slow, he presses a kiss to her forehead too.

Bruno takes a step back, intending to walk down the path to Kamran’s car, before Kamala stops him by flinging her arms around him for one last hug.

She calls out as he finally gets into the car.

‘I’m gonna miss you!’

‘Hey, it’s just eleven weeks, KK.’

She’s put her hand dramatically over her heart like Bruno’s off to war, but Kamala grins and waves, before blowing him a kiss.

‘Starting the countdown calendar right now!’

She actually asks Zuzu, in the smartwatch on her wrist, the red and blue and gold of said smartwatch contrasting nicely with the various macrame bracelets she wears, to do that.

Bruno grins like a besotted idiot.

-

‘…sometimes, I look at her, and she’s like a queen, strong and determined and righteous; she’s Nakia Bahadir…’ Miguel smiles, unconsciously, when he says that. Kamran has heard Nakia Bahadir’s righteous passion and fury described far more negatively (intense or intimidating or even insane are terms he’s heard far more than the way Miguel talks about it, as if he’s never seen anything so beautiful). ‘…and she’s incredible, and I wonder, why me? She’s out of my league.’ Miguel’s smile turns a little self-deprecating, but there’s still something soft in it. ‘I know why, she’s told me why, and I can see it in myself, but…’

Kamran nods.

‘I look at Mahnoor sometimes and…mashallah.’

His roommate smiles, nodding in agreement at that sentiment.

He’s a bit of a mother hen, so decided that their trip to the halal pizza place to pick up their pizza order was a good time to have a chat with Kamran.

Either that, or Kimo put him up to it.

(Kamran’s brother is very devious. Well-meaning, but devious.)

Still, it strikes a chord with Kamran.

Miguel is the most well-adjusted of all of them. He had a good, normal, happy childhood, and there’s something secure in him, he knows who he is and what matters to him unshakeably.

But if he can look at Nakia sometimes and think that she’s out of his league, that it just seems unbelievable that she’d pick him, because she’s incredible…

…maybe that means that Kamran’s not as messed up as he thinks he is.

 Maybe that voice that sounds too much like his ammi, that whispers he is not good enough, he doesn’t deserve her, and he never will, she could so easily do better…

…maybe it lies.

Well, Kamran knows that at least some of it is a consequence of the shadows that haunt him.

But that voice is getting quieter, he has to admit. Those thoughts come up less and less frequently.

(His best friends have been helping.)

(Dinners at Mahnoor and Inaya and Nani’s, washing dishes with Mahnoor in the kitchen after, or popping over after classes to taste-test her newest creations, or watching her laugh and grin as she drives his Porsche – expertly, and fast, because she loves to drive fast – or heading over to her place to watch GBBO or the latest F1 Grand Prix with her and Nani….)

(…those all help too.)

He’d thought the fact that they hadn’t disappeared meant there was something irreparably wrong with him, still.

But…maybe not.

-

Kamran, lying in his bed, resolutely awake, gives up on trying to sleep.

After dinner that night, he and Mahnoor had had a long conversation. A serious, honest conversation. One that both fills Kamran with hope and joy and light and warmth, but also…it also invites those shadowy thoughts, those doubts and fears that make him feel like he’ll never be free of this darkness, never truly free of his mother.

He gets up and grabs a T-shirt from the haphazard pile on the chair in the corner, puts it on, and heads into the kitchen/dining/living area.

Bruno’s still up, he realises, sitting at the dining table doing something with an old smartphone, half a panini press and an old video game controller, as well as a bunch of what looks like junk to the rest of them. There’s a sketch of a bold graphic design in gold, blue and red on a purple background in front of Bruno, so Kamran assumes this is some kind of gift for Kamala. Maybe a birthday present? Or even an Eid al-Adha gift?

Bruno looks up at him when Kamran walks into the room, and a question just falls out of his mouth.

‘Hey, man, can I ask you something?’ Bruno gestures as if to say shoot. Kamran takes a deep breath, reminds himself that this is not weakness, but strength. ‘You know how sometimes, she looks at you, and you just forget that you’re damaged goods, because she loves you and…I mean, not that you’re damaged-‘

Bruno has scars, Kamran knows, but he’s not got his problems, even if he doesn’t think that he’s completely fucked up anymore.

Bruno cuts him off.

‘I get it, man.’

Kamran sits down in a chair opposite him at the table and swallows.

‘It’s just…’

He gestures nebulously, but Bruno seems to get it, looking away for a beat, before looking back at Kamran, though he doesn’t seem quite able to make eye contact.

‘When I was a kid…Nonna, the Khans, Kamala, I knew they loved me. They weren’t shy showing me that they did.’ He pauses. ‘Never have been.’ Bruno says that dryily and so loving underneath that. ‘It took me a while to understand what love is. Took me even longer to trust it.’ He pauses again. ‘But one day, I just did.’

Bruno says that almost as if there was a little magic to it, something that even he can’t find a scientific explanation to, but in this case, he’s happy to let it go.

And that gives Kamran hope.

That one day, he’ll believe, he’ll trust in his bones and in his soul, that Mahnoor does truly care for him. That she loves him.

He’s quiet for a long moment, before bitter words come out of his mouth before he can stop them.

‘Every time I think she’s done fucking up my life…’

Bruno nods, because of course, he understands that.

‘Hey, you made it here.’

He gestures nebulously at that, and Kamran smiles a little.

This – the life and family and love he has now – is so much more than he thought he’d have just a couple years ago.

Bruno smiles back at him, and they each grab a couple of the very hard and chewy toffees in the bowl at the centre of the table.

(Faizaan had sent them ten pounds, direct from Karachi.)

(He’d said they were to help Kimo keep his mouth shut so as not to ruin things with the future Dr Mrs Kimo.)

-

As noise from the living/dining area filters into the kitchen – it’s a full house for dinner tonight; Nani, Miguel, Nakia, Kareem, Inaya and Bruno (as well as Kamala on video call) are all laughing about something – Kamran and Mahnoor pull dessert out of the fridge.

Kamran admires the falooda trifles his girlfriend has made. They have beautiful, perfectly-imperfect layers of sponge cake spread with rose jam, fresh fruit and basil seeds soaked in rosewater-flavoured milk. They’re topped with chopped pistachios, and they’re as delicious-looking and incredible as every single one of her creations.

He tells her that, and reaches for her hand, raising it so he can press a kiss to the back of her knuckles. Mahnoor looks very much like she is flushing, but smiles up at him, wide and bright and warm, and not shadowed by her dupatta in the slightest.

He grins back at her.

-

(In a moment like this, those shadows can’t touch him.)

-

One night in fall, after a day that had the last vestiges of summer in it, Kamran is sitting in the living room, trying to buy a birthday present for Mahnoor.

(Currently, he is browsing a purveyor of rare Urdu books for an early edition of one of the romance novels that Mahnoor loves so much. He’s also got tabs open for a women’s clothing store – the dupattas section, specifically – and the ticketing page for next year’s Canadian F1 GP.)

Miguel is sitting in the armchair – he and Nakia are working on a joint article online, before the first semester of their Junior year gets too crazy. He’s currently eating cheese puffs with chopsticks while his partner talks to him through his headphones, grinning goofily.

Bruno has taken over half the dining table, doing something to a toaster that he has airbrushed purple.

The front door opens, and in steps Kimo, smartly dressed in charcoal shalwar, a cream kameez and a matching sadri, with a red scarf around his neck – this one is a bit longer than usual and subtly plaid-patterned. He puts his boots on the shoe rack and his guitar case down, and saunters over to the three of them, looking very much like a cat who got the cream.

Kamran sighs internally. He’s got no idea what his brother’s just done, but Kimo likes playing little pranks and jokes on him.

(Brothers are sometimes a pain in the ass.)

‘Okay, man, spill.’

Kareem smirks even wider, though the expression is somehow softer.

‘Inaya said she will have me, so I am getting married.’

Miguel and Bruno blink, looking as shocked as Kamran feels. They also grin, looking as delighted and happy for their friend as he feels too.

Kareem grins back at them, even as he arches a brow at their shock, their surprise.

‘Just because you three like to drag your feet…’

Chapter Text

‘…what should we do for Halloween?’

One chill evening, as the four of them all variously sit in the living and dining rooms of their house, Bruno asks that to the three of them at large. Kamran shrugs, looking up from his phone.

‘Are we doing something?’

His question makes both Bruno and Kamala (on video chat on Bruno’s laptop) look at him. Kareem grabs another piece of pizza from the box on the table, and just smirks at Kamran, like he’s saying, it is Bruno and Kamala, brother.

Meanwhile, Kamala’s eyes go wide with realisation.

‘Ninja turtles! You have to do the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles!’ Her very loud and extremely insistent declaration makes all four of them look at her. Kamran reckons Bruno can’t be blamed too badly for being really bad at saying no to Kamala; she is kinda like a hurricane. (Also, love does that to a man, he’s learned. Mahnoor asks for very little, but Kamran wants to give her the sun and moon and stars.) Kamala gestures at the pile of pizza boxes on their coffee table. ‘You guys literally are them!’

‘Yeah, KK, we live in a sewer.’

Kamala sticks her tongue out at her boyfriend, crossing her arms imperiously.

‘You know what I mean!’ She gestures nebulously and energetically again. ‘Bros! Pizza!’

Bruno looks at the pizza boxes for a second, before turning back to his girlfriend.

‘You’re not completely wrong…’

-

A series of text messages exchanged by Bruno Carrelli and his girlfriend, Kamala Khan:

Kamala: [A photo of seven-year-old Bruno and Kamala, relatively new best friends, with their arms around each other, on the front porch of the Khan family home, both holding pumpkin-shaped buckets. Kamala is a sloth fairy princess – she has sloth face paint on, paired with a poofy purple dress lovingly made by her mom, wings and a tiara. Bruno is a turtle scientist who loves pizza, as a result of Kamala and Bruno’s best attempts to explain the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle Donatello to Nonna and Muneeba. He has turtle face paint on, and is wearing a purple T-shirt and a lab coat. He has a big calculator dug out of a drawer in the Khan house and a pizza takeout menu in his lab coat pockets as props.]

Our first Halloween!!!!!!

We were so cute

And so small

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3

Also reprising your costume

SO CUTE!!!!!! <3

Bruno: oh wow, nostalgic

Someone is still small

:P

And very cute [kissy face emoji]

Kamala: naww [three kissy face emojis]

WAIT I SEE WHAT YOU DID THERE BRUNO

[A selfie of her sticking her tongue out at him. Kamala has a record three pencils stuck in her messy bun that she has forgotten about.]

-

Bruno comes home from a late lab class to find Kamran, Kareem and Miguel all sitting around the dining table and looking at their phones.

Miguel is smiling; it’s a little mischievous, which might indicate that he’s spending too much time with Nakia, who, despite being Nakia Bahadir, has a mischievous streak a mile wide. Kamran’s grinning like he thinks something is cute. Kareem looks up at Bruno, meanwhile, and arches a brow.

‘We must talk about the fact that your girlfriend has a video compilation of every Halloween costume you have ever worn, and yet…’

Bruno groans internally. Kareem is really never going to let him forget his insistence that Kamala couldn’t possibly feel the same way about him.

‘Kamala loves Halloween.’ He pauses, expression turning a little bit wry and sheepish. ‘We love Halloween.’

Kareem just crosses his arms and smirks.

‘And you two wore matching costumes-‘

‘-couples costumes-‘

Yeah, Miguel is spending too much time with Nakia.

Kareem nods, points at Miguel as if to say thank you.

‘-you wore couples costumes for years.’

-

On Halloween, Kamran leaves his room, wearing brown chinos and a cheap green T-shirt, with red fabric wound around his wrists and tying on the red eye-mask made of the same material.

Bruno leaves his room at the same time – in beige chinos, an identical cheap green T-shirt, and with purple eye-mask and wrist-wraps. He’s grinning like a besotted idiot at his phone, and types out a reply, before he smiles wryly and holds out his phone to Kamran.

‘Kamala describes her costume as very haram this year.’

Kamran briefly wonders whether he should even look, then. Then he remembers that it’s Bruno, who is aggressively wholesome.

Bruno’s phone is currently displaying a short video of Kamala, who is gleefully delighted to be dressed as…

…a slice of Hawaiian pizza?

Oh, Kamran realises, oh. Ham – and pineapple – on pizza.

It’s Bruno and Kamala.

Bruno does seem to have realised that it’s slightly awkward phrasing, because he’s rubbing the back of his neck.

‘Shall we?’

Kareem says that as he and Miguel emerge from their rooms. Kareem is wearing brown chinos, green T-shirt and orange eye-mask and wrist-wraps. Miguel’s chinos are beige like Bruno’s, and his eye-mask and wrist-wraps are blue.

Miguel grins.

‘Happy Halloween!’

-

Outside their house, Kamran looks up as Mahnoor and Inaya call out from down the street as they walk down the sidewalk from their home.

He looks away from Nakia and Miguel, who are looking at something on the former’s phone, heads close together.

Nakia is dressed as April O’Neil, in jeans, a black T-shirt and a bright yellow jacket with matching headscarf. She’s currently got a mischievous little smirk on her face. Miguel is grinning, and that grin turns goofy and on top of the world when Nakia raises their joined hands to press a kiss to the back of his.

Inaya goes to greet Kareem, and Kamran walks over to Mahnoor, holding out his hands in case she wants help carrying the very large box of cookies she is carrying.

Mahnoor made coconut and white chocolate chip cookies with cinnamon and vanilla to take to the party.

She’s wearing a beautiful cream lehenga kurti, matching dupatta draped elegantly over her head and shoulders, and she smiles brilliantly at Kamran in greeting.

Kamran grins back at her.

He’d think she’s her namesake – moonlight – for Halloween, if not for the giant Rafaello logo she’s got on a string around her neck.

Kamran is Raphael the Ninja Turtle. (He doesn’t know much about Ninja Turtles; he didn’t watch the show as a kid. Bruno had to explain.) Raphael the Ninja Turtle is named after the painter, whose name was actually Rafaello. He’s not particularly familiar with the brand of chocolates either, but he thinks it’s pretty cute that he and Mahnoor are matching.

He manages to persuade Mahnoor to let him take the box instead – he can carry it one-handed – and she slips one of her now-free hands in his instead.

They turn around, and Kamran blinks at Inaya’s costume. Inaya is dressed fairly normally. She has her hair in a French braid instead of the usual ponytail or bun, and a red hairband around her head. But she’s in her usual combat boots and jeans and charcoal leather jacket and oversized T-shirt…though this oversized T-shirt has, for some reason, Go Sistine Chapel Ceiling! written on it in marker. Inaya is also holding pom-poms.

Kamran tilts his head in confusion.

‘I am a fan of the Sistine Chapel ceiling.’

His brother’s fiancée says that blandly, but Kamran’s pretty sure there’s an extremely amused light in her eyes and a ghost of a smirk on her face. That’s probably helped by the fact that Kimo is blatantly smirking.

Kareem gestures at himself.

‘And who am I, brother?’

‘Michelangelo?’

Kamran blinks and thinks a little more. Michelangelo is named after the painter, who painted…oh. Fan of the Sistine Chapel ceiling. Ceiling fan. He gets it.

It’s kinda weird, but it’s also clever, he thinks. Kinda like Kimo and Inaya.

As they walk to the party, Kareem wordlessly takes one of the pom-poms Inaya is holding, freeing one of her hands. They both hold one pom-pom and each other’s hand all the way to the party.

It’s sweet, Kamran thinks.

The red hairband in Inaya’s hair looks familiar…is that one of Kimo’s red scarves?

That really is very sweet, Kamran thinks.

He glances down at Mahnoor, who smiles up at him, and squeezes his hand. They both grin – her more sheepishly than him – when Bruno and Kamala (on Bruno’s phone) start attempting to tell a story about a previous Halloween to Miguel and Nakia.

‘-come on, Bruno, I did not-‘

‘-you insisted on taking the potato, KK.’

‘-and you were the one who suggested we split it!’ Kamala pauses. ‘Guess you can’t be blamed; Ammi makes really good aloo chaat.’

Mahnoor bursts into giggles, looking more sheepish. Kamran finds himself grinning wider, and not because Bruno and Kamala are genuinely funny, even when they’re not attempting to be. More so when they’re not attempting to be, probably.

His beloved is adorable.