#developing realtionship

"Who's gonna kiss the blonde haired boy? Who's gonna wipe away his tears?"

Summary:

Fuck. I can’t keep doing this, Kaveh thought. All he could think of was going back to his dorm to crawl under the covers of his bed and eat some of his snacks. To his surprise, a certain gray haired junior also plagued him at the moment. It wasn’t like that anymore, he had to remind himself. or Kaveh is exhausted from architecture and his ex-friend turned roommate is there to pick up the pieces.

Warnings: None || Rating: T || Pairing: Al-Haitham/Kaveh

Tags:

Alternate Universe - College/University, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Angst, there was not supposed to be that much relationship angst…, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Developing Relationship, Making Up, Oneshot, title is misleading, they don't kiss, yet - Freeform

link to ao3: here

Water ran down his body cleaning off the grime of the day’s activities. Al-Haitham felt a wash of refreshment through himself—his mind as well clear of the heaviness weighing it down the past week. He could always find a moment of reprise in the shower. Al-Haitham sighed, running his hand through his hair one last time to rinse out any leftover conditioner. As he turned the faucet’s knob to cut the water, he heard the slamming of the door—Kaveh was back. 

Al-Haitham had actually been taking a midnight shower meaning Kaveh came back surprisingly early for midterm season. He hoped his roommate had just decided to prioritize his health for once. Quickly, Al-Haitham washed out all the product from his hair and rushed to dry himself.

Perched on his bed, Kaveh watched as Al-Haitham came out of their shared bathroom holding up a towel to his damp hair.

“You’re back early,” Kaveh heard the other comment, a blank expression on his face.

That condescending tone, the blonde thought, he thinks he’s so much better when he’s done studying for his midterms days in advance and I’m over here slaving away in the studio. That much hasn’t changed since high school.

“Shut up,” Kaveh grumbled to his younger roommate as he flopped back onto his bed and ran a frustrated hand down his face. 

Today, or yesterday if he wasn’t going by his unsalvageable sleep schedule, was one of the most frustrating in Kaveh’s academic career. His floor plans for the midreview were practically done, and yet his irritating professor scribbled all over them during the desk crits telling him to change practically everything. It made him want to rip all his hair out before he could even start balding from college. Kaveh didn’t want to listen to this incompetent man who couldn’t even draw and told his class to use AI, but he needed to keep up his GPA for the scholarships funding his tuition. Architecture was not for the weak.

Kaveh heard Al-Haitham’s footsteps approach him, and he hurriedly turned his face to the mattress trying to hide tears of frustration.

When class ended at 6, Professor Phony had clapped Kaveh on the shoulder, told him, “You know what you’re doing” and promptly left.

He wanted to strangle that man. 

But, of course, like the good student he needed to be, Kaveh still stayed behind to revamp his drawings in hopes of catching up to where he had previously been. Hours passed by unknowingly, and by the time Kaveh had finished revising, it was already midnight. He slumped onto the wooden desk.

Fuck. I can’t keep doing this, Kaveh thought. He was back at square one, or where he was before studio started, but he needed to keep going. He needed to—augh. His hunger and exhaustion from weeks of all-nighters finally hit him. 

All Kaveh could think of was going back to his dorm to crawl under the covers of his bed and eat some of his snacks. To his surprise, a certain gray haired junior also plagued him at the moment. I’m probably just really tired. I haven’t wanted to spend time with that idiot since high school.

Begrudgingly, Kaveh packed up his supplies and slipped his drawings into his portfolio. He might as well just go back to the dorms if he couldn’t focus.

The walk back alone went by quickly, though Kaveh always felt uneasy in the dark. Man, he’d have to sneak into his dorm again if Al-Haitham already went to bed. That early sleeper, Kaveh found himself thinking fondly, he always fell asleep first when we’d call in high school. 

It wasn’t like that anymore, he had to remind himself.

Al-Haitham’s presence was at the foot of his bed.

“Are you okay?” the man asked, his voice bland. He was blunt as always.

Kaveh swiveled his head towards his irritating junior, not caring that his red rimmed eyes were in full display.

“Do I look okay to you?” he bit back. He’d evidently been crying, his hair was a mess with a claw clip barely hanging on for dear life, and he was still wearing the clothes he went out in yesterday morning.

That seemed to get Al-Haitham to back off, and Kaveh watched as he walked away. No, he was going to the mini fridge to get something?

“I got you some take out from the cafe before they closed,” the younger fidgeted awkwardly, one arm offering Kaveh a white container, “In case you didn’t eat again.”

They stared at each other, neither knowing what move to make. Al-Haitham hadn’t bought him anything since their fight.

Kaveh’s grumbling stomach shattered the suffocating silence, and he relented, grabbing the take out from Al-Haitham’s outstretched hand.

He sat at his desk gingerly munching on yesterday’s dinner, and their shared room returned to the fragile sense of stillness that had been there since moving in. Kaveh and Al-Haitham had spent the first half of the semester walking on eggshells around each other as they had no contact until being randomly assigned as roommates. 

When he finished his meal, Kaveh went into autopilot, throwing the container away and getting ready for bed. He shed yesterday’s clothes and traded them for a soft pajama set. His face felt more refreshed from the skincare routine he swore would get rid of his eyebags. Kaveh was finally content under the covers of his bed.

Al-Haitham had already gotten ready for bed while he ate. When Kaveh peered over to the other side of that room, Al-Haitham unsurprisingly had his head in a book, a reading lamp pointed at his bed.

Kaveh’s exhaustion ran deep, and he felt his eyes shutting by the second. As he reached to turn off his own lamp, he made a split second decision and called out, “Hey Haitham? Thank you.” Stupid, he hadn't called him by that nickname in years.

Kaveh heard a grunt in response. All that and he can't even say you’re welcome, but the thought had less bite to it than usual. They both knew Kaveh wasn’t talking about the food. 

On the other side of the dorm, Al-Haitham had a soft smile on his face.

Notes: