Work Text:
Naib didn’t like group projects. He didn’t like depending on people. Never had.
The last time he trusted someone else to carry half the weight, he’d ended up doing everything himself while his partner ghosted him three days before the deadline.
So when Professor Desaulnier called out, “Clark and Subedar—Group 3,” Naib had already started planning how to get it done solo.
That was before he really looked up and saw Eli Clark.
Eli sat near the back of the classroom, spine perfectly straight, short dark hair. A notebook open in front of him—pen moving steadily even while the lecture droned on. He looked like he belonged somewhere quieter. Like he’d wandered into campus from a different time zone.
Naib frowned. That one?
The professor continued talking.
Eli looked up—and met his eyes.
Naib flinched and immediately looked away.
They met up the next day at the campus café.
Naib got there five minutes late. He didn’t expect much. Maybe a name exchange and some awkward small talk. Maybe a guy who didn’t pull his weight.
Instead, Eli was already seated by the window, a small pot of tea beside him, a folder open, his highlighters sorted by shade.
“You’re Naib,” he said simply.
“Yeah,” Naib replied. “You’re Eli.”
Eli gave a faint smile. “I hope you read the rubric.”
Naib opened his mouth. Closed it. “I skimmed it.”
“You didn’t.”
“…I skimmed parts.”
Without missing a beat, Eli slid a paper across the table. “I annotated it.”
Naib stared. The rubric was highlighted in four colors. Notes lined the margins. There was even a question mark next to the line about ‘cohesive presentation visual elements.’
“You do this for fun?”
“I like clarity,” Eli replied, sipping his tea. “Helps avoid disappointment.”
Naib blinked. “That’s… valid, actually.”
Eli smiled again, small and fleeting, before flipping open a notebook. “What part do you want to take?”
It started that simply.
And then it didn’t.
Because Eli wasn’t what Naib expected.
He was reserved, yes—but never unkind. His voice stayed calm even when Naib forgot the meeting time or had to reschedule because of his lab assistant shift. He had this patience about him, like he was used to letting people be who they were without pushing.
He also had this way of asking things Naib didn’t know how to answer.
“Do you always walk like you're late, even when you aren’t?”
“What does your necklace mean?”
“Why do you look at people like you're preparing for impact?”
Naib never knew what to say. He wasn't used to being looked at that closely, let alone seen.
They started texting outside project hours.
It began practical.
Eli (9:22 p.m.):
I’ve uploaded the draft to Drive. You can add your diagrams there.
Naib (9:23 p.m.):
Thanks.
You eat yet?
A beat.
Eli (9:24 p.m.):
…That’s not part of the rubric.
Naib (9:25 p.m.):
Humor me.
Eli (9:26 p.m.):
I had udon. You?
Naib (9:27 p.m.):
Half a protein bar and guilt.
Eli (9:28 p.m.):
You’re an engineer, not a raccoon. Eat something real.
Naib saved the text.
He didn’t know why.
Their meetings turned less about the project, more about proximity. Eli started bringing extra tea. Naib started arriving early.
Once, while waiting for the printer to vomit out slides, they just… sat.
Ten minutes. No words.
But it wasn’t awkward. It was quiet. In the rare, golden way Naib didn’t know he craved.
He caught himself watching Eli more often than was polite. The way his hands moved, always precise. The way his expression softened when he talked about animals—owls, especially. The way he once stopped mid-sentence to watch a pigeon land awkwardly on a table outside and smiled with so much warmth it made Naib forget his own name.
When they finished the presentation, Naib felt… weirdly hollow.
The project was over. They’d nailed it. Done. No reason to keep meeting.
So why did that feel like a loss?
He didn’t text for three days. Forced himself not to.
On day four, Eli texted first.
Eli (2:04 p.m.):
The crows are back. Courtyard. Thought you’d care.
Naib (2:05 p.m.):
I do.
Eli (2:05 p.m.):
Figured.
Naib smiled into his sleeve. Bit his tongue.
Didn’t say more.
But the next day, he walked to the courtyard.
Eli was already there.
They sat together and watched the crows without speaking.
The crush hit quietly.
It wasn’t a thunderbolt.
It was Eli’s voice on the phone late at night when Naib couldn’t sleep. It was the way he remembered Naib’s class schedule. The way he called out his bullshit without sounding cruel.
It was how Naib started drafting texts and never sending them.
[Draft, unsent:]
You looked nice today. I like your hair like that.
[Draft, unsent:]
Do you think something’s happening here or am I imagining it?
[Draft, unsent:]
I think I want to know you more than this. I think.
Then came the weekend they hung out off-campus.
Eli had invited him to a used bookstore with “a surprisingly good animal section.”
Naib went, pretending it wasn’t the highlight of his month.
They browsed in near silence. Eli lingered at the birding guide shelf, flipping through pages like he was touching something sacred. Naib loitered nearby, pretending to read a mechanical engineering book that hadn’t been relevant since 1997.
“Do you ever just… feel too loud?” Naib asked suddenly, out of nowhere.
Eli blinked. Looked up.
“All the time,” he replied.
Naib nodded. “…You never seem like it.”
“I learned how to be quiet before anyone told me to be.”
Naib stared at him. Eli turned back to the shelf.
Naib thought he might be in real, irreversible trouble.
The next few weeks passed like a blur.
More texts. More quiet moments. More almosts.
Naib almost told him when they bumped shoulders walking down the hill. Almost told him when Eli gave him a sketch of a crow, folded into his notebook. Almost told him when Eli called at 12:02 a.m. just to ask if he was awake.
He wasn’t brave enough.
Not yet.
And then… came that night.
Naib couldn’t sleep. Not just because of the heat. Or the noise from the hallway. But because he couldn’t stop thinking.
He wanted to tell him.
He had to.
So he walked.
The campus was dim and sleeping. The courtyard lights buzzed faintly. Crickets chirped like they didn’t care that the world felt like it was about to tilt.
Naib found himself in front of Eli’s dorm.
He stared up at the windows.
Was about to turn away—
When the door opened.
Eli stepped out.
They froze.
“…Naib?” Eli asked, hoodie sleeves pushed up, his voice soft and tired.
Naib shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. “Yeah.”
Eli stepped down the stairs. “Did something happen?”
Naib hesitated. His voice felt like it belonged to someone else.
“I couldn’t sleep.”
Eli tilted his head. “And you came here?”
Naib nodded. “I guess… I just wanted to see you.”
A long pause. Then:
“…Why?”
Naib looked down. Then at him. All of him.
“I think I like you,” he said. “Not just as a project partner. Or someone I talk to sometimes. I like you, Eli. I didn’t mean for it to happen. It just… did.”
He braced for silence. Rejection.
But Eli exhaled and smiled.
“You’re not the only one who’s been losing sleep.”
Naib’s heart stopped.
“…You?”
Eli nodded. “You make it really hard to focus on owl migration patterns. And I love owl migration patterns.”
Naib blinked. Laughed, breathlessly. “This is real?”
“Yes,” Eli said simply. “And you should’ve told me sooner. I would’ve made you tea.”
They stood there, in the quiet of almost midnight, two people with no more secrets between them.
And Naib finally, finally felt calm.