Work Text:
1.
“Al Haitham." Kaveh tugs on their entwined hands. Al Haitham does not respond, even though his hearing aids are on. Ignoring Kaveh prompts the funniest reactions, after all. "Al Haitham. Al Haitham. Al Haitham."
"Yes, Kaveh?" Al Haitham finally relents, deciding that the way Kaveh puffed out his cheeks is not worth having him complain until his ears fall off. Or until his hearing aids spontaneously combust.
"Look at that stupid condom ad."
Al Haitham does not look. "Normally, it would take seven beers for you to ask, and in all places, the subway, Kaveh."
Kaveh scowls at him. "Bastard, I'm just telling you to look at this horrendously designed ad. It's disgusting."
Al Haitham finally looks. "It looks like a normal advertisement." There was just a strangely excited drawing of an anime character with a box on their hand. In comparison to some other advertisements he's seen, this isn't the worst.
Kaveh lets out an affronted gasp. "How dare you?" He starts gesturing at the ad in question. "Look at how bad it is. First, it drags you in with the unconventional anime art style, because who the hell puts a shoujo looking anime boy on a condom ad? Then it hits you with the realization."
Al Haitham should be used to these outbursts. "The realization?"
"The realization that they slapped a drawing of an anime face onto a photo of a real model!" Kaveh slaps the board with the offending ad on it, causing the frame to shudder and creak. "Look at it. It's so bad. The hand is obviously one of a real person, but nooo, they couldn't commit to the job, they had to slap a drawing of an anime character on it!"
Al Haitham squints at it. "It is quite a questionable design choice."
"And. I'm not done yet. It's in Inazuman. Why would you make an advertisement in Sumeru and only explain what it is and why your product is good in Inazuman? Preposterous."
"It says it's high tech. To make it appear sophisticated, probably."
"That's even worse!" Kaveh buries his face in his one free hand. The other was squeezing Al Haitham's hand so hard he thought it may cut off his blood circulation. "What kind of condom needs to be high tech? What the fuck. Whoever made this should be fired."
Kaveh drags Al Haitham off, finally. "Absolutely horrendous. Even you, with no sense of art whatsoever, can do better, just because you wouldn't do a half assed job."
2.
"Fuck!" Al Haitham hears Kaveh screech from two rooms over, then footsteps. Loud, angry footsteps.
"Al Haitham!" Kaveh flings the door to Al Haitham's room open. "Why did you use up all the fucking printer ink and not tell me???"
He collapses on Al Haitham's bed, with his shoes on. "Kaveh. Get off my bed."
"Maybe I would, if you haven't used up all the printer ink? Professor Naphis just sent me notes at 10 fucking pm for tomorrow and I need to print them now or I'll mess up my nightly routine and I'll actually go insane! "
Kaveh inhales, and lets out an exaggerated sigh. "Al Haitham, go change the printer ink for me."
"No."
"Excuse me? You were the one who used it last, so you should be the one to change it!"
"I have not used the printer for three days. The last time you used the printer was four hours ago."
Kaveh puffs out his cheeks. "You're insufferable."
"But I'm right."
Kaveh scowls and throws a pillow at his face. He dodges it and it smacks against the wall, sliding off with a sad thud. "Wipe that smirk off, bastard! Where is the spare ink cartridge anyway?"
"It's right next to the printer. Maybe you would be able to find it if you did not insist on piling up your paperwork and blueprints everywhere else."
Kaveh grumbles and throws a blanket over his face. "I don't wanna get up," He says from under the blankets.
"Then don't." Al Haitham turns his chair to face Kaveh. "Though I wonder, what happened to my capable, independent senior?"
"You happened." Kaveh lobs another pillow at him that he dodges yet again.
"Yes, yes, you're my capable, independent, wonderful, talented boyfriend now, is that it?"
Kaveh peeks out at him from underneath the blanket. "Why does it feel like you don't really mean it?"
"I assure you, there is no one as sincere as I am."
"Haravatat scum." Kaveh rolls his eyes.
"Kshahrewar brat." Al Haitham continues reading his book.
There are five seconds of blissful silence before Kaveh speaks again.
"Why did that old man Naphis decide to give us our notes at 10 pm? It's not even the first time. He's like a d.c."
"A direct current?"
"Yeah. He doesn't know how to be like everyone else and send documents at a reasonable time. Like how Sumeru still uses d.c. instead of a.c. like the rest of Teyvat."
Al Haitham does not look up from his riveting book: Quantum Mechanics, The Theoretical Minimum.
Kaveh continues to lie on Al Haitham's bed until Al Haitham hears faint snoring coming from underneath his blanket.
3.
"Haitham. Help."
"What is it this time, Kaveh?"
Kaveh does not look up from his phone screen, nibbling on a tip of his pencil. "Why is Google Docs telling me that it can't open my file?"
"I'm a humanities student."
"And you also major in business."
"What does that have to do with computer science, pray tell? You're the one who looks at computer models all day."
"Can't you stop being a bastard and help me? I only know how to deal with Rhino, I can't deal with Google docs!"
Al Haitham sighs and looks over Kaveh's shoulder at…"Is that fanfiction?"
"Yes and what of it, just help me for Archon's sake! I need to write, I just had an idea and I need to write it down before it disappears!" Kaveh finally looks up from his phone, staring resolutely in Al Haitham’s eyes. "And it's not me who likes to read smut in the middle of a Costco with a straight poker face!"
"Sumeru doesn't even have Costco."
"Semantics! You're absolutely insufferable. Why am I stuck with you again?" Kaveh shoves his phone in Al Haitham’s chest. "Help me."
"Because according to you, you love me. Just exit the app and click back in. It's a temporary issue."
"It's not a temporary issue if it keeps on happening."
Al Haitham shrugs, ignoring the way Kaveh keeps on shoving him with his phone. "Google doesn't have an answer for that. It's just an unfortunate feature, I suppose."
"Fuck Google Docs. Fuck this. Now my idea is gone." Kaveh stops hitting Al Haitham with his phone and slumps onto him instead. "I'm tired." He mumbles.
"Get off. You're heavy." Al Haitham tries to pry Kaveh off to no avail.
"Tired. My inspiration is gone and so I'm sad and tired. Won't you carry this poor senior to his bed?" Kaveh looks up at Al Haitham's face with his best puppy eyes.
Somehow, Al Haitham ends up indulging Kaveh, scooping him up and walking to his bedroom. As Kaveh happily snuggles into Al Haitham, head on his shoulder and arms around his head, Al Haitham thinks to himself that there would be no other place he would rather be.
4.
Kaveh slams the door to Al Haitham’s room open one night, barging in and throwing a pillow at his face.
“What did I do?”
“Nothing!” Kaveh screams, flopping onto his bed like a puppet with its strings cut.
“It’s not nothing if you’re acting like this.”
“It’s. Nothing!” Kaveh burrows deeper into the cocoon of blankets and pillows. “Absolutely nothing!”
Kaveh is only silent for a few seconds before he speaks again. “It’s stupid.”
“It probably is.”
“Oh, fuck off. You’re so annoying.”
Al Haitham does not reply or fuck off, just staring at the mound of blankets that is now Kaveh.
“You know the international university debates? The one I won for two years straight?” Kaveh mumbles. “I expected to get nominated for at least a few rounds, but they only nominated me for one this year.”
Everytime Al Haitham thinks he has mastered the language of Kaveh in all its hidden layers of meanings and veiled insecurities, Kaveh proves him wrong yet again. “You said it was utter stupidity. I said it was a mere spectacle.”
“And it is.”
“So why are you mad about it?”
The pile of blankets moves slightly. “I’m not mad.”
Al Haitham knows Kaveh can’t see him, but Al Haitham raises an eyebrow at him all the same.
“Urgh, fine! I’m mad, because you got nominated for all of the rounds when I didn’t! And I was the one who won two medals for the Akademiya! It’s like everyone just agrees that I’m.” Al Haitham hears a choked sob from underneath the blankets. “I’m just a failure. That I’m past my prime and I’m just going to end up broken and broke and-” The pile of blankets edge closer towards the wall. “I hate this!”
“Would you call Senior Minci a failure, and that she’s going to end up broken and broke?”
“...Are you insane?”
“She didn’t get nominated for a single round.”
“Yeah, because she rejected all the offers in the past few years!”
Kaveh mumbles something so imperceptibly small that Al Haitham thinks he may have imagined it— just a wayward whisper of the wind, picked up and amplified with the static in his ears.
“Could you repeat that?” Al Haitham says.
“I said, what do you have that I don’t?”
Al Haitham blinks. “What?”
“I was the medallist! I am an honours student! I have three scholarships! What else do they want? How much better do I have to be? I don’t understand!”
‘Oh, Kaveh.’ Al Haitham thinks. He sits down on the bed, laying a hand on the blanket. He has seen Tighnari comfort Collei this way— Surely it would work with Kaveh? For a student of languages and linguistics, he’s surprisingly bad with words. So they just sit there. Waiting, in silence, for a time where they can sort this out, together.
5.
As soon as Al Haitham sees Kaveh walk in, the other man throws his briefcase down, sits down on it and screams .
"Kaveh?" Al Haitham turns around from the stove where he was cooking butter chicken.
"Did you know. Did you know that today, in Chem 2300 that I took for shits and giggles, the professor oh so conveniently forgot one very, very important step?"
"That is unfortunate." Al Haitham turns back to his butter chicken. It would be quite a hassle if it were to stick and burn, after all.
"And he was so confused when absolutely no one understood it! He had the audacity to not understand why we were so confused!" Kaveh slides down from atop his briefcase onto the floor, lying flat like a starfish in their living room.
Al Haitham hums a sound of agreement in lieu of a response.
"When we finally figured out that he missed the first step, we had already wasted twenty minutes. Twenty minutes!" Kaveh lets out another screech. "What a waste of my time!"
Al Haitham quietly stirs the pot. Perhaps he should check on the baklava too.
"Al Haithaaaaam." A pitiful whine comes from the limp pile of limbs that is Kaveh. "I wish I could just graduate already."
"Alright."
"... Are you making butter chicken?" Kaveh finally, finally gets off the ground and pads over to the kitchen, peering over Al Haitham's shoulder. "That looks pathetic. It looks as spicy as some Mondstadter would make it."
“Kaveh, don’t you dare.”
Kaveh pouts. “Not even a tiny bit more?”
“It’s like you want me to starve, Kaveh.”
“Fine.” Kaveh throws his arms around Al Haitham’s neck, causing him to pause in his stirring. “At least the professor apologised after he found out. That’s more than I can say for you.”
Al Haitham immediately shoves Kaveh off. He falls to the ground with a yowl, much like an affronted cat.
“What happened to my cute little junior, you’re so mean to me now!” Kaveh whines. “That hurt, Haitham, kiss it better!”
Al Haitham can feel the tips of his ears turning just the slightest shade of red, thankfully hidden under his hearing aids and his hair. He turns off the fire, walks over to where Kaveh was sitting on the ground and takes Kaveh’s hand in his’, pressing his lips to the back of his hand.
“Happy?” Judging by the smug, satisfied smirk on Kaveh’s face, Al Haitham’s cheeks must be flushed completely red.
“Haitham. My lips hurt, won’t you kiss them better?” Kaveh latches onto his hand, pulling Al Haitham down next to him.
Al Haitham kisses him better.
+1
The first thing Al Haitham does when he gets home is to sit on the couch and stare at the ceiling.
“Al Haitham? What is up with you today?” Kaveh is cooking today. He has his hair braided into a bun, Al Haitham notices. It’s rapidly unravelling and falling apart.
Al Haitham closes his eyes. “They made me student council president.”
Kaveh is silent for a second. Then he bursts out laughing, putting down the spatula in his hand, before bending over from wheezing with laughter. “Oh, Archons! What happened to ‘I am happy being the secretary’?”
“They forced me.” Al Haitham frowns at Kaveh’s cackling. “It’s only temporary, but I still am not looking forward to the administrative hell that awaits me. It’s like the entire student council collectively forgot the existence of senior cabinet members except for me.”
Kaveh falls on the sofa laughing, landing in Al Haitham’s lap.
“I just wanted to have normal office hours and secure an internship, and they made me the president. I did not sign up for this. Kaveh, they want me to drop my personal research. For the sake of the student body, they said.” Al Haitham really isn’t one to grumble. He’s more particular towards being clear about his requests, and if people don’t listen, to resort to less… Savoury methods. Al Haitham does not grumble.
Kaveh starts crying from laughter, practically causing the whole couch to vibrate with him.
“They- Did they tie you down to a chair and make you work? Tell me they did. Tell me Cyno was in on it as well.”
“Metaphorically they did. I suspect Cyno wanted to do that physically, too. The student council is already horribly inefficient. Combined with the mass exodus of senior members, we are understaffed and overworked. And they expect me to fix all of it.”
“Aw, Haitham, it’s just a few months. And I bet either you will quit or the entire student council will quit before those few months end.”
Al Haitham frowns. “If I could do that, I would have.”
Even as Kaveh continues to laugh at Al Haitham’s unfortunate fate, the smile on Kaveh’s face is not enough to distract Al Haitham from the impending doom that will be the next few months as Acting Student Council President. They end up tangled up on the couch until the next morning, Kaveh’s hair tickling his cheek and with one leg dangling off the edge of the couch. In the morning sunlight, Kaveh’s hair glows.
Perhaps they could stay like that for a while.