Chapter Text
Alhaitham first saw him in the House of Daena, golden curls poured over a wooden desk while he scribbled animatedly on page upon page of messy calculations.
He was there often. Many students were, naturally, but something about him simply caught Alhaitham’s attention. Rather than write with the resigned dedication of someone who would rather be doing better things, as most did, everything he etched into those pages seemed to come from a place of pure passion and energised frenzy, directly from his mind’s eye to the paper. They were often sketches, Alhaitham noticed, even from his seat a good few metres away, but words came in just as often, although always sprawled in mind maps and messy curved connections and conflicting lines. Never in the neat, blocked essay-style of Alhaitham’s own notes.
Perhaps the paper, which came alive with designs of unidentifiable mechanisms and half-written notes on advanced topics which didn’t need completing to be understood — as if their writer had come up with an epiphany mid-sentence — mirrored the jewelled mind hidden beneath that glowing blonde head.
Alhaitham could tell, just by glancing sideways in the library, that he, whoever “he” was, was intelligent. A genius, if the Akademiya boasted any. It was evident from the brightened glimmer in his amber eyes when ideas clicked, or when a new one was drawn out from the messy pages mid-study session (if it could even be called that: perhaps inspiration session, or crafting session, would be more appropriate. Watching him at work was akin to watching an artist in his workshop).
This, Alhaitham thought, is a scholar. For two reasons. One, his curiosity was nearly palpable, exuding from his brightened face as he moved his pen fervently, like a paintbrush. Secondly, it was clear that he wasn’t the kind to simply internalise what he read in books and regurgitate them, eliminating any critical thinking from the process: he was creative in the strictest sense of the word, drawn to creating, rethinking, remodelling.
He was a genius.
All of this Alhaitham concluded through careful observation over the course of two weeks, before making a decision: he should approach this student.
Now, Alhaitham wasn’t one for striking up friendships or approaching strangers, or, really, much socialising at all. Contrary to public belief, it wasn’t because he thought he was better than the rest or too intelligent to converse. It also wasn’t due to shyness or a fear of being disliked: if he had that fear, he would have changed his ways long ago. No, Alhaitham didn’t talk to people simply because he didn’t have the desire to. On occasion, an interesting character would appear, and he would feel the desire to approach them. In such cases, he would simply strike up a conversation, because he was interested in what the other had to say.
This was one such case. “Good afternoon,” he greeted.
The student looked up from his fervent sketching, growing a warm smile. “Hi.”
“If you don’t want to be bothered, do let me know.”
“No, no, don’t worry,” the student chuckled, pink lips still curved. “Have a seat.”
Alhaitham did, piling his books in front of him on a desk. The student eyed him curiously.
“I’m Kaveh,” he said, cheerfully.
“Alhaitham.” He stole a glance at the sketch, which looked like a flurry of wires and distorted metallic parts. “What are you designing?”
“A toolbox,” Kaveh replied, red eyes lighting up at the question. He turned the page towards Alhaitham. “This might sound silly, but I’m thinking of, like, a toolbox-robot. Okay, not exactly, but it’s hard to explain! It’s cause, in robotics class, I had this project in which I made a robotic toolbox, but there was a lot of room for improvement, especially considering I only had one week to complete it. One week! Can you believe it? That’s nowhere near enough time to make something actually worth making! So anyway. The idea was stuck in my head. And then I read this article about a new kind of old technology— New kind of old, that’s funny. But you’ll get what I mean in a sec. It was a kind of energy supply core they found in King Deshret ruins, and as I was reading the Wikipedia page about it, I realised it matched really well with the problems I was running into with the toolbox, and maybe—”
He paused, cheeks suddenly turning a light shade of red. “Sorry,” he mumbled, smiling sheepishly. “I shouldn’t be boring you to death. You definitely don’t wanna hear me ramble about this random idea I had at three AM.”
“I do, actually,” Alhaitham stated, expression unfazed. “Continue.”
Kaveh blinked a couple of times, seemingly measuring his honesty, then broke into an enthusiastic grin. “Well, you see, you might be wondering, why a toolbox? It might sound obvious since an architecture student would use it all the time, but also, I realised that…” He kept talking, and Alhaitham kept listening, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as Kaveh pointed excitedly at different components of the core, explaining the mechanics behind it or the problems he was encountering.
It was, admittedly, difficult to follow. Kaveh’s mind seemed to work much like Alhaitham had imagined, jumping from one epiphany to the next, switching focus and detailing irrelevant sidelines before returning to an idea which was previously thought to have been concluded.
It only confirmed Alhaitham’s suspicions. He was a genius.
Alhaitham had dabbled in engineering, on occasion, due to his habit of popping into random lectures despite not being enrolled in the class — so much so that more than one professor had expressed concern over not receiving his assignments, only to be calmly informed that he wasn’t a student in the class.
Regardless, the concepts Kaveh was running through were much too advanced for Alhaitham, and seemed to be a combination of his advanced physics lectures with further study in areas the Akademiya didn’t offer at undergraduate level, leaving the linguistics student struggling to keep up with the conversion of energy Kaveh was trying to explain.
“I’m interested in this, but I’m struggling to understand. My theoretical background is too poor,” Alhaitham admitted, face blank. “Do you have a recommendation of what I should read to familiarise myself with the concepts?”
“Of course!” Kaveh clapped his hands, standing up in an instant. Alhaitham rushed to follow his brisk place as the blonde rummaged through bookshelves, hiking up and down the House of Daena while haphazardly pulling out books.
“And here,” he murmured, topping the growing pile in Alhaitham’s hands with an old, thick textbook. “Have a look.”
He sat back at the table while Alhaitham checked them all out, unbothered by their weight or the sheer amount of titles. Naturally, if one wanted to truly understand, there could be no room for laziness.
“I’ll go home now,” he stated, standing in front of Kaveh. The idea of friendship suddenly seemed enticing to him, at the thought of spending several afternoons much like this one, running his fingers over the deeply intriguing creases of Kaveh’s brilliant mind. He felt like being friends with this student would give him much to learn. “I would like to talk to you more, if you’re also interested. Would you like to have a coffee, or something of the sort, tomorrow?”
Kaveh smiled from ear to ear, amber eyes crinkling at the edges while he twirled his earring over his fingers. “I thought you’d never ask. Tomorrow, Puspa Café, four in the afternoon?”
Alhaitham left feeling accomplished. On his first try, he had managed to secure a friendship quite well.
“Guess who just asked me out?”
Kaveh was grinning, or perhaps it should be described as a mischievous, smug smirk colouring his lips, as he flipped his hair over his shoulder and sat next to his friends. “You’ll never guess,” he sang.
Tighnari raised a brow. “Who?”
“I don’t know if you know him,” Kaveh continued. “Alhaitham.”
Cyno’s jaw dropped in utter shock, and Kaveh laughed at his widened eyes. “Exactly.”
“Again, who?” Tighnari asked, frowning.
“You know who he’s talking about,” Cyno grumbled. “It’s that grey-haired dude from Haravatat. Linguistics. I share a couple classes with him and I thought he was kinda nice, but then he didn’t wanna play TCG with me. Straight-up just said he didn’t want to. It was kinda rude.”
“Ah.” Tighnari didn’t look particularly interested, opening his phone. “Why is this so surprising? People ask people out.”
“You’re only saying that because you’ve never talked to him,” Cyno retorted. “He basically never talks to anyone. Just reads, everywhere, all the time. Wears noise-cancelling earphones all the time, too.”
“I’d never talked to him,” Kaveh added. “But I know about his reputation. As an isolated guy, and stuff. I never thought he’d just come up to me out of nowhere, but I guess I’m flattered.”
“So you melted his ice-cold heart,” Cyno announced, dramatically. “I know about a bunch of people who tried hitting on him. Sounds like you’re the lucky one.”
“You can say lucky again,” Kaveh muttered. “He’s fucking sculpted. Nari, if we pass by him on campus at some point, I’ll point him out. He’s kinda ripped. And fucking gorgeous.”
“I’m okay, thanks,” Tighnari replied.
Cyno tapped his fingers rhythmically on the bench. “No offence, but like.” He cleared his throat. “Are you totally sure that he asked you out?”
Kaveh frowned, crossing his arms defensively. “Obviously. I can read a room.”
Cyno raised an eyebrow.
“He literally came up to me, out of nowhere, for no reason, while I was in the library. Just sat down and asked what I was doing. And seemed genuinely interested, even though I probably talked for forty minutes straight.”
“Yeah, definitely hitting on you,” Tighnari quipped. “He has to really want to get into your pants, if he put up with your rambling.”
Kaveh scowled, replying with a smack rather than words. “As I was saying, after all of that, he asked if I wanted to go on a coffee date. Tomorrow.”
Cyno’s jaw dropped once again, but he amended it with a smile. “Wow, I didn’t know that nerd had it in him. Bagging the Light of Kshahrewar.”
“Stop.”
“Stop what?”
“You know I don’t like that name.”
“Light of Kshahrewar, Light of Kshahrewar,” Tighnari chanted. “Just learn to take a compliment, dude. It’s a good thing.”
“It feels condescending,” Kaveh grunted.
“Best grades in Kshahrewar history while barely studying, and now the most-desired hermit in the university is chasing after you,” Cyno sighed. “I guess some people are just born to win.”
Kaveh couldn’t bite back a smile, thinking of what he’d wear to Puspa Café.
Alhaitham was waiting at a table for almost fifteen minutes when a rushing blonde mess finally showed up, out of breath.
“I’m so sorry!” Kaveh exclaimed, words tumbling over each other. “I didn’t mean to keep you waiting. I’m just not good with punctuality, I swear it’s nothing personal!”
He sat down in a frenzy, just as he had arrived, and offered Alhaitham a bright smile which hopefully hid his crackling nerves.
In truth, the idea of being stood up had not even crossed Alhaitham’s mind. It seemed in line with Kaveh’s character to not be well-adjusted to the rigid continuity of clock hands, and as he was fascinated by most aspects of that mind, it would have been senseless to not be fascinated by this one, too. He had brought a book anyway, so his time was hardly wasted. He closed the pages and looked up at Kaveh.
Kaveh was dressed completely differently from the previous afternoon in the library, having exchanged his sweatpants and oversized hoodie for dress pants and a white, flowy shirt which exhibited his back, adorned with golden details. The red clips holding his bangs back were also nowhere to be seen, and his hair was perfectly curled and fluffy. Alhaitham could smell cologne.
Kaveh was awfully overdressed for a café. Perhaps he was going somewhere after this. Or perhaps overdressing was simply another side of his vibrant personality — it did match well.
“I didn’t think it was,” Alhaitham stated. “Personal, I mean. You seem like the kind of person who is often late.”
Kaveh seemed to sink in on himself at the comment, fidgeting with the earring dangling near his chin.
“I don’t mean it as an insult,” Alhaitham clarified. “Simply an observation.”
“Right.”
Alhaitham internally sighed. It seemed like he did still have a lot to learn about friendships.
“I apologise if I upset you,” he murmured, handing him a menu. “I already know what I’ll be having. Let me know when you’re ready to order.”
Kaveh ran his eyes over the options several times, red irises jumping back from one line to another. Alhaitham noticed that he was evidently having a hard time deciding.
“We can share, if you want,” he suggested.
Kaveh brightened up at the suggestion, ordering more than two people could possibly eat, then leaned forward expectantly.
“So!” he started, removing all of the golden rings adorning his fingers and pooling them in a corner of the table. Why wear them if they would be removed? Fascinating. “Let’s talk about you. I barely let you get a word in yesterday.”
“I’d rather keep talking about you,” Alhaitham stated, earnestly. “Your thought process is very interesting.”
Kaveh blushed heavily, letting a genuine toothy grin shine through. “Oh.” He looked away. “You’re so sweet. Fine, then, what do you wanna know?”
You’re so sweet? Now, that was definitely the first time that such a sentence was directed at Alhaitham, of all people. Perhaps he wasn’t failing at friendship, in the end.
“Why did you choose architecture?”
Kaveh hummed, tapping his chin. “My mum is an architect, so that definitely helped. I’ve had a lot of exposure to this sort of thing.” He thanked the waitress with a radiant smile as she put down his coffee. “But I picked it because it’s, like, a perfect mix of different things, you know? I love art, but I also love the rigour of maths and the practical applications of engineering. I wanna make a difference.”
His face was scrunched up in determination now, although the expression was soured by the coffee burning his tongue. “Ouch! Sorry. I was saying that I really want my work to have an impact, you know? I want my career to have real meaning. So, I felt like architecture ticked all of those boxes. And I love it! So I guess I made the right choice.” He smiled cheerfully. “What about you?”
Alhaitham tapped his finger on the mug handle, considering Kaveh’s response with care. It was interesting, that he had picked a course by narrowing it down from a range of enjoyable options, rather than trying to come up with something he’d actually like to spend years studying.
“I suppose nothing particularly stood out to me. But, since I really enjoy reading, I thought the study of language would be a good choice.”
Kaveh nodded, eyes slightly squinting. “Do you regret it?”
Alhaitham cocked his head. “No. What gave you that impression?”
“I mean.” Kaveh shrugged. “You just don’t sound very passionate.”
“I’m not. But I think that’s just my personality.”
Kaveh laughed, although it hadn’t been particularly funny. “Fair enough.”
They sat in silence for a moment, before Kaveh looked at him with curious eyes. “I was wondering. Why did you come up to me?”
“You seemed like you’d be interesting to talk to,” Alhaitham replied, unfazed while Kaveh bloomed into yet another blush. “I’d been seeing you there for a while. I wanted to know what you were working on.”
Kaveh laughed again, delightedly. “Well, if I’d known that you were so curious, I’d have brought my sketchbook. Remind me to do that next time.”
Alhaitham nodded, which only made Kaveh’s smile widen, although he was unsure why, not realising that he had just confirmed that there would be a next time.
Wow. Making friends sure was easier than it seemed. Kaveh looked like he was having the time of his life simply having a coffee in his presence, breaking into dazzling beams every few moments.
“You draw too, I assume?” Alhaitham asked. “Not just designs.”
“Yes!” Kaveh took out his phone, clicking through a few things before handing it over to Alhaitham. “If you wanna have a look.”
It was his art Instagram page, filled with mostly hand-made paintings, several watercolours, and a good many pencil sketches. The themes seemed to vary, but there were a great many people and buildings.
“Where is this?” Alhaitham asked, pointing to an intricate palace front dotted with stunning flowers in the front courtyard. The caption read “Palace of Alcazarzaray.”
“Oh, it doesn’t exist,” Kaveh chuckled. “Although I wish it did. I just made it up.”
“It’s impressive that you drew this with no reference.”
“Thank you.”
Alhaitham took his time scrolling through the page, zooming in on colour blends and occasionally asking a question, cocking his head to analyse the position of a figure sprawled on grass, her face covered by flowers.
He didn’t notice Kaveh tapping his feet increasingly rapidly, resisting the urge to bite his bottom lip. He simply handed the phone back, wordlessly.
“So?” Kaveh tried. “What did you think?”
“I don’t think I know enough about art to be able to form an opinion.”
Kaveh rolled his eyes. “Don’t be silly. Anyone can have an opinion about aesthetics.”
Alhaitham hummed, looking away as he considered that statement. “I’m not sure I’d say so. Sure, taste is subjective and so are aesthetics, to an extent, but there’s still some objective measures to be used.”
Kaveh raised an eyebrow. “I feel like it’s hard to determine where the line between objective and subjective would be, here.”
“I agree. But there should still be some level of objectivity. For example, the artist’s skill should be taken into account. You seem to be extremely skilled to me, but I don’t really know how to evaluate such things.”
Kaveh smiled, amused. “Thank you. But I don’t think you need credentials to hold an opinion about my paintings.”
Alhaitham stayed silent.
“What are you thinking about?”
“Philosophy,” Alhaitham replied. “I haven’t read much on aesthetics. I’m thinking that I should.”
Kaveh hummed. “You should read Adorno. I mean.” He fidgeted with his bracelets. “I’ve only read a little philosophy for fun, so it’s not like I know so much.”
Alhaitham took out his phone, writing “Adorno (aesthetics)” in a new note.
The food arrived, and they continued to switch from topic to topic, guided by Kaveh’s enthusiastic remarks and Alhaitham’s nods and careful opinions. Almost three hours later, when they finally called for the bill, Alhaitham let his shoulders relax completely. The meal had gone well.
Or not: one more obstacle. How was the payment going to work? He never went out to eat with anyone. He had assumed they would split the bill, but Kaveh looked utterly still, smiling brightly at him while the waitress waited for the card, making absolutely no move to reach for a wallet.
Okay. Did this mean Alhaitham would pay? Maybe it would be his responsibility for being the one to invite Kaveh out in the first place, which made some level of sense. Alhaitham should really do some research on social rules and whatnot.
He paid, holding back a sigh of relief when Kaveh didn’t protest. Money wasn’t an issue, but the fear of a faux pas ruining this chance at friendship lingered in the back of his mind for probably the first time in his life. For now, however, everything seemed to be going smoothly.
Evidently, Kaveh wanted to be his friend.
“How did it go?” Tighnari asked.
“So good!” Kaveh exclaimed, grinning as he plopped himself back on his bed.
He shared a room with Tighnari, but Cyno, his boyfriend, was around almost all the time. Kaveh was of the opinion that he should start paying rent.
“He complimented me, like, a billion times,” Kaveh continued, still smiling like an idiot. “And not stuff like ‘you’re pretty’ or whatever. He said my ‘thought process’ is interesting.”
“Sounds like he was telling you to shut the fuck up,” Tighnari murmured.
“No, I’d say that’s actually a great compliment coming from that guy,” Cyno chipped in.
“Thank you, Cyno. Why is Tighnari always trying to bring me down?”
Tighnari crossed his arms. “Am not. It’s just that you guys gave me a pretty bad impression of this Alhaitham, so I’m sorry if I’m not thrilled about you going out with some jerk.”
“He’s not a jerk,” Kaveh protested. “He complimented my art, too. And said he wanted to hear me keep talking about myself. Unlike you, who always cuts me off! Because you’re mean!”
Tighnari didn’t dignify that with a response, raising an eyebrow instead.
“And in the end?” Cyno asked, wiggling his eyebrows.
“Did you fuck?” Tighnari added, unceremoniously.
“How crude!” Kaveh gasped, in mock offence. “Really, Tighnari, no need to be so vulgar. But no, we didn’t.”
“Not even a kiss?” Tighnari continued. Cyno made wet kiss sounds at the air.
“Stop,” Kaveh ordered, crossing his arms. “Gross. Also, no, we didn’t. We just exchanged numbers at the end. We didn’t touch at all, actually. I was gonna hug him before we left, but I don’t know, he was so closed off, I felt like it might be too soon.”
“Hm,” Tighnari mumbled, sceptical. “Weird.”
“I don’t think it’s weird,” Kaveh protested. “He looks like a pretty reserved person. Probably just wants to take things slow.”
“That sounds like him,” Cyno agreed.
“See?” Kaveh opened a jittery smile once again, pacing around the room excitedly while fiddling with his bracelets. “I’m not worried. We got along really well. And he genuinely sounds really interested in me.”
“I’m happy for you, then.” Tighnari shrugged. “Although I don’t totally trust this guy.”
After a couple more outings, Alhaitham and Kaveh started seeing each other everyday. They had each other’s schedules saved on their phones, and Kaveh would often leave a lecture hall to find his junior waiting for him in the corridor, holding a warm cup of coffee.
“Thanks, Haitham! You’re the sweetest.”
It was somewhat embarrassing to admit it, but he was growing to like the casual praise Kaveh threw around like it was nothing.
He also observed that Kaveh didn’t seem to make that kind of comment anywhere near as often with his other friends, which swelled his chest with something close to pride at the conclusion that that must mean it was all perfectly genuine. For the first time in his life, Alhaitham was “adorable” and “sweet” to someone other than his grandmother, and, contrary to what he might have thought previously, it felt utterly delicious.
It had now been three weeks since they had first talked at the library, and his life had taken a radical turn since then. For one, Kaveh was now inviting him to an absurd number of social events, most of which he actually attended (late night parties excluded— he had a sleep schedule to upkeep). He felt a little like a puppy following Kaveh everywhere, but it was surprisingly enjoyable. Unlike with others, spending time with Kaveh seemed to be almost always pleasant, and even when he was willingly dragged away to a Green Club river clean-up, being able to talk to Kaveh and hear his addictive laughter always seemed to make up for any discomfort.
Gossip had also made its way around the university.
“I heard you went out with the Light of Kshahrewar this weekend. Is it true?” a completely unknown Spantamad student asked, approaching him with an overly-intimate smile.
Alhaitham studied the individual, wondering if they had ever interacted. “Yes. We went out for coffee.”
Or, at another point, “I heard Kaveh is all over you,” a fellow Haravatat classmate whispered. This one, at least, was a familiar face. “Good job, dude.”
He accepted the “good job,” since he, too, was proud to have seemingly acquired such a pleasant best friend in so short a while. Although this behaviour was a little odd. Did people usually congratulate others on newly-formed friendships? Perhaps Alhaitham had underestimated how nice people usually were when you were actually inserted in the social fabric. This wasn’t so bad.
Alhaitham definitely felt “inserted in the social fabric.” He had been introduced to a large myriad of individuals, who Kaveh was somehow friends with, from a dancer called Nilou to fellow Akademiya students. Kaveh had convinced him to accept Cyno’s invitation to a TCG game, and it had admittedly been quite amusing to watch the “TCG master” frown as he lost, grumbling about possible cheating, before opening a genuine smile and congratulating Alhaitham on his victory.
Although Tighnari didn’t seem to like him much.
Another relevant point was Alhaitham’s surprise at finding how… utterly casual some of their hangouts were. He had never had a friend as close as Kaveh, so he found himself wide-eyed at the first few demonstrations of physical intimacy.
Really, it wasn’t much. But he’d pull Alhaitham by the hand in crowded spaces, then in not-so-crowded spaces, and the warmth of his touch made Alhaitham silently gasp the first couple of times. He’d reach forward to rub the sleep off Alhaitham’s eyes before morning classes, and poke his chest jokingly.
Alhaitham had never been one to let others into his personal space, but it made sense that Kaveh would be an exception. After all, there was no doubt that he was his best friend. Still, sometimes, the personal space felt a little too… personal.
“No!” Cyno groaned, definitely under the effects of alcohol. “There’s not enough space for everyone around the table.”
It was game night, which Cyno seemed to always get a little too excited over.
“It’s fine,” Kaveh snickered, crawling unceremoniously onto Alhaitham’s lap. “Haitham and I can play as a team.”
He took a swig of beer, grinning as he wrapped one arm around Alhaitham’s neck. “I’d offer it to you,” he hiccuped, “but I know you don’t drink, so. So. So, so, so.”
Alhaitham inhaled deeply, willing his heart rate to return to normal levels. It wasn’t that he was uncomfortable, but rather that his feeble student body wasn’t used to this intimacy. Kaveh’s face, grinning brightly so close to his own, tugged a rare smile out of his own lips.
Having a best friend was not quite what he expected. But, watching blonde curls sprawled on his shoulders while hearing that loud, unmistakable laughter, Alhaitham found that he had no complaints.