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Arthur was getting late for work. He didn’t even have a reasonable excuse like missing his alarm or having a late night. He was just lazy. Mornings were created for slow, easy movements, not quick, efficient ones.
He was absolutely certain he wasn’t at fault for this. Still, the world didn’t care about his mornings, and so he would be screwed if he was too late. Chagrin and annoyed with everything, he couldn’t be blamed for what happened.
“Hello!” came a cheerful voice. Far too cheerful for Arthur to handle at that moment. The man standing in the hallways with him was tall, with dark hair, and a bright smile. “I’m Merlin. I just moved in,” he gestured vaguely towards the hallway. “Thought I’d come say hi.”
Arthur stared at him, taking in the blue eyes, cute ears, the nervous fidgeting of his hands with the stings of his hoodie. To say the man before him was cute was an understatement. The sudden force of attraction left him breathless. It had been a while since he’d looked at anyone with anything other than mild interest.
“Um,” the man shifted uncomfortably. Merlin was now sporting a light blush. Arthur tracked it’s spread across his cheeks, down his neck—
With great mortification Arthur realised he was being creepy. His brain was screaming at him to abort, abort, abort.
“I’m late!” he blurted out, dashing towards the stairs without another glance.
He’d barely made it a flight of stairs before face palming. What the hell was that? That was probably the worst first impression in the history of first impressions. Arthur could never recover from that. His neighbour, Merlin, was probably going to run in the opposite direction every time they saw each other.
Oh, and he really was going to be late now.
Inevitably, they ran into each other again. Sooner rather than later as Arthur had hoped.
“Hi neighbour,” Merlin greeted with a grin, effectively chasing the image Arthur had of him running away screaming. (No, Arthur was not being dramatic. There were no mountains out of molehills here.)
Merlin’s hair was hidden under a beanie and his neck under a scarf. He had a messenger bag strapped across his chest, pulling Arthur’s eyes. That was one lucky bag, he thought stupidly.
“Hi,” he managed to force out before they had a repeat of the last time. He cringed inwardly at how awkward he sounded. “Sorry about,” he trailed of, waving his hand in a vague gesture. He breathed. One sentence. He had to say at least one full sentence. Come on, Arthur. “I was running late and you caught me off guard.”
Merlin chuckled. “Well, I’m the one running late this time so.” He began walking backward with a wave. “See you around, neighbour!” He turned around just in time to jog down the stairs.
Arthur cocked his head, admiring Merlin’s–ahem–pants. They were nice pants, very long and…form fitted. A great pair of legs. Pant legs, of course.
It became a habit after that. They met in the hallways, at doors, at the mail box, on the stairs, at the parking lot, and once even at the local grocery store.
Each time Merlin greeted him with a cheery, “Hi neighbour!” or good morning or night or some other greeting.
And Each time, despite Arthur’s best efforts, his answer was silence.
It wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t. Merlin left him horribly tongue tied.
“He’s just too cute for words.” He was at Gwen and Morgana’s place, ranting about Merlin to Gwen. His tea lay cold and long forgotten. “You should see him. He has hair, and neck, and his fingers.” Arthur thumped his head on the table. He had a decent supply of Merlin memories which were prone to reducing him to an incomprehensible mess any time of the day.
Gwen blinked in surprise. “That’s…nice. He’s very, well, he’s definitely a person?”
Arthur groaned pitifully. Gwen pat his hair in sympathy. “Why don’t you ask him out?”
“I can’t,” Arthur mumbled.
“Is he not interested in dating?”
“I don’t know!” Arthur lifted his head, dislodging Gwen’s hand. “I don’t know if he’s single, interested, into men at all. I don’t know anything. I don’t even know what he does.”
“Alright, okay,” Gwen nodded. Why anyone would assume Gwen could give decent dating advice was beyond her. She still couldn’t quite believe which series of fortunate accidents led her to Morgana. “Is he receptive when you talk?”
“uhi gnhakk.”
“What was that?”
“We don’t talk.”
Gwen stared at him.
“Every time I see him, I get tongue tied. My brain is barely functional enough to formulate a proper sentence let alone execute the talking bit.” Arthur played with his cup, avoiding Gwen’s eyes. “It’s like I said, he’s too cute for words.”
“You’re really screwed,” Gwen said, sipping her tea.
Arthur chose to ignore her. “He’s always doing something, or wearing something, or something, and it’s all so endearing. This once, he was eating a sandwich and it was so…you had to be there.”
“So utterly, royally screwed,” said Gwen, the last thing she would say in a while. She could only hope this Merlin fellow was faring better than her friend.
“No, Gwaine, you don’t get it. He wears a tie and a suit jacket. He’s so neat in the mornings, and you think, wow, he’s hot, but then.” Merlin waved his hand about, almost knocking over some files. “Then, he come in the evening, hair dishevelled, tie loosened, shirt unbuttoned, and you think, no, that’s hot. And then, you see him in the morning again, and his eyes are sleepy or awake with per-work life still in them, and he looks so—”
“Hot,” Gwaine interrupted. “I get it. Your neighbour is hot. Unrelated, how many hours of sleep did you get?”
“Five, and I’m fine. This has nothing to do with my sleep.” Merlin’s eyelids drooped at the mention of sleep, reprimanding him for the lack of shut eye.
“Five this week or this month?” Gwaine asked in mock earnest.
“No one can survive on five hours a month,” he grumbled. “Don’t you have any work to do?” He crossed his arms sassily.
“Of course. My work is listening to you pine about some hot stud.”
“I’m not pining.”
“What’s his name?” Gwaine continued, ignoring him.
“I don’t know.”
“Pardon? Are you telling me you’ve been pining for a guy for, what, a month now? And you haven’t even asked him his name?” He knew Merlin could be hopeless sometimes, but this was record breaking.
Merlin struggled to find words. “It’s just. I can’t speak to him. All I can ever say is hi.”
“Hi? That’s it? What do you call him in your head, then? Hot bun? Cowboy? No, wait, Professor Sexy.” Gwaine snapped his fingers with a smirk.
Merlin groaned. “Stop laughing at me. You’re the worst friend ever.”
“I have in on good authority that I’m actually your best friend.” He beamed in his annoying, charming way.
“You’ve been demoted,” Merlin deadpanned.
“Your dreamboat is taking my place, I assume?”
“No one is taking your place because I’m going to smother you to death.”
“Snookums, butter butt, lollipop,” Gwaine listed on his fingers.
“He’s neighbour!” Merlin blurted in exasperation.
“Neighbour,” Gwaine repeated.
“Yes.” Merlin scowled.
“The neighbour.”
Merlin glared at Gwaine, waiting for him to get to the point.
“Does that mean you call the rest of your neighbours honey boo?”
“That’s it. Clear your schedule because you’re about to be dead soon.”
It was a few days after his talk with Gwen. Arthur was exhausted from work, too exhausted to cook anything that wasn’t instant noodles. He entered his building, dreading the stairs. He’d climbed half a flight when he realised he’d forgotten to check his mail.
He groaned. He stood for a minute, dredging up willpower from some dark recess of his being. He came to a stop at the foot of the staircase.
Butterflies played in his stomach as he spotted Merlin checking his mail. His heart constricted when he was close enough to make out Merlin’s face.
Gone was his cheery Merlin. Even when he’d looked dead on his feet, Merlin’s being had always radiated life. Now, though, his drooped shoulders, sad eyes, and disheartened movements tugged at Arthur’s chest. He could hardly bear it. He had to do something.
Merlin noticed his presence as he approached. “Oh, hi nei—"
“Everything alright?” Arthur asked, too sombrely for a generic pleasantry.
Merlin stared at him in surprise.
Arthur panicked. “I didn’t mean to be intrusive, of course. It’s your busi—”
“Ah, don’t worry about it.” Some of his usual sparkle lit his eyes. “I’m alright, really. Just a stressful day at work. I’m a nurse, you know, and sometimes it’s, well,” he shrugged, “not easy.”
A nurse. Merlin was a nurse. Arthur hadn’t known that. And he’d had a bad day. Bad enough for a sad, rueful smile on his face. Arthur was filled by a burning need to hear about it, to listen and provide comfort, to put a genuine, happy smile on his face.
“Listen, I know we don’t really know each other, and if this is inappropriate or weird you can refuse or tell me to piss of, obviously,” he scratched the back of his neck nervously. “Would you like to come to mine? I’m tired too and was planning to order pizza and watch a movie, so if you’d like some company, we can do that? Or not. No pressure, of course. I mean—”
“I would love to,” Merlin interrupted, saving him from further embarrassment. The smile that lit his face was much closer to his usual, cheery self. “If you’re genuinely offering, I would love to spend some time with you.”
“Of course it’s genuine,” Arthur replied, mostly by reflex as he watched Merlin’s shoulder shake off some of their earlier gloom.
“Thank you,” Merlin’s smile softened.
All Arthur could do was stare at him, with a smile of his own. Merlin was simply too adorable for this world.
“What is it?” Merlin nudged their shoulders playfully as he shut his mail box.
“Nothing! Er…just thinking about the movie we should watch.”
“No need to hurt yourself over it. I have a pretty decent collection to choose from. What genre are you in the mood for?”
From there on, they each found their words (for the most part).
Gwen had moved on from being annoyed and was now in the bored, uninterested headspace. It was her day off. Like any sensible person, she had planned to spend her day in her favourite jammies (the one with unicorns) and catch up on sleep, shows, books, and art.
Sure, it also included spending time with her friends and family. She enjoyed that too.
Arthur, her dearest friend, was currently being a pain. He’d been going on about Merlin for at least two hours. Even now, he was going on though she was clearly not listening.
She understood the need to get all those feelings off one’s chest. Lord knows she had been a mess often enough herself.
Still, why did she have to listen to a lovesick Arthur by herself? Some solidarity would be nice.
“—Can’t believe, he’s even more precious. He’s a sarcastic little shit, and calls me prat. I’m so gone. His ears! I have a thing for his ears, Gwen.”
“I find your ability to come here only when Morgana isn’t quite impressive,” said Gwen.
“I checked her schedule before coming. I have time till nine.”
“Ah, that makes sense. Very strategic.”
“Of course! Can you imagine Morgana finding out about Merlin? It would be a disaster, Gwen, a calamity. Which reminds me, we’ve made plans to hang out tomorrow. I’m choosing the place. Is an arcade too cheesy? I don’t want to come off as overbearing but I also don’t want him to think I don’t care. Date vibes but not too obvious because it’s not a date. Yet.”
“I haven’t been to an arcade in a while,” Gwen mused. Maybe next week they could round up the gang and go. It’d been a while since they’d met.
“Maybe a movie would be better. It’s safe, appropriate for first not-dates. We won’t be able to talk though, and I’d have to wait till the end to hear his funny commentary.”
Now was a good time as any for Gwen to resurrect her abandoned knitting project. Then again, it was abandoned for a reason.
“Can I paint your nails?” she asked, more alert than she had been but still a far cry from attentive.
“What?”
“I’ll remove it too, if you want, before you leave.”
There was a brief silence. “Alright, why not? Do you think Merlin likes nail polish? I haven’t seen him with any. His nails are always bare and neat, but that could be because he’s a nurse, right?”
Ten minutes. Gwen was going to give Arthur ten minutes in which she would finish with his nails before taking her weekend back. If she planned a horror show just right, an unsuspecting Morgana would walk right into it, and Gwen could get some cuddles.
What better combination that snuggles with her tough girlfriend who pretended to enjoy horror, while some good old-fashioned blood and screaming played in the background?
“Mate, you still don’t know his name. This is beyond pitiful,” said Gwaine, as he and Merlin ate lunch together in the canteen.
“It’s too awkward to ask now! What am I supposed to say? ‘Hi neighbour, we’ve been hanging out for a bit and oh, would you mind telling me your name? We missed it during introductions’.”
“Yes, obviously.”
“No.” Merlin shook his head for emphasis. “I’m not doing that.”
“Fine. Just steal his mail then,” Gwaine snarked. He loved his friend dearly, he did, but he wished just as dearly to have his lunch without neighbour’s metaphorical presence. He felt like a third wheeler already.
Merlin’s eyes gleamed contemplatively. “Not a bad idea.”
“I was kidding. Joke. Merlin,” Gwaine tried vainly to get Merlin attention. He gave up with a sigh.
More than meeting Merlin’s neighbour, which would most likely end up with the two of them staring into each other’s eyes and composing sonnets, Gwaine wanted to meet neighbour’s friends. If this was going to be as much of a disaster as he thought, he was going to need some new friends. Preferably ones who could understand his pain.
There would be popcorn moments too, no doubt, and those absolutely had to be shared. It was vital. Gwaine would know, he was a nurse.
To Merlin’s delighted surprise, Arthur had taken them to an arcade. It was perfect. Mindless fun was just the remedy he needed. It was especially easy with Arthur. While he was quite competitive, he was relaxed and accepted defeat with cheer and good sportsmanship. It helped that he was free to look his full when Arthur was otherwise distracted.
They played donkey kong, pac man, space invader, fumbling about completely out of practice. They moved on to other games like whac-a-mole, basketball, down the clown, which had more success. The clowns with annoyingly smug grins were particularly fun to knock down. They even attempted the fruitless prize locker games. Merlin swore that one of these days he would get something from those lockers.
After a disastrous dance game, which was more flailing about than actual dancing, Arthur went back for another round of basketball. He regaled Merlin with tales of all the sports he played as a kid.
“I used to secretly stay late in school,” he admitted as the walked around looking for their next game. “I couldn’t concentrate on studies. I had take frequent short breaks to shoot baskets while thinking the material over and giving my body something to do. It was the only way to pass my classes.”
“That sounds like a good way to go about it,” said Merlin. “I sort of assumed you aced all your classes.”
Arthur grinned shyly, scratching the back of his neck. “I did. Almost had to give the valediction speech.”
Merlin stared at him. “Gods, you’re such a prat.” He shoved him lightly. A gorgeous, hot, sweet, hardworking prat.
Merlin himself had been average, only doing enough to get into nursing. It was the furthest thing from easy, and so were the years following it, but Merlin enjoyed his job. He couldn’t imagine doing anything else.
He’d just realised he had no clue what Arthur did for a living and was about to rectify it when Arthur grabbed his hand.
“We have to go bowling! Come on, Merlin, the ally’s free,” he tugged him around, trying to find the bowling counter.
“I’ll find the counter, you get the shoes,” Merlin said. “Size nine!” He threw over his shoulder as he spotted the counter.
Everything was going smoothly. Merlin had entered them for two rounds. Seeing Arthur’s excitement, he was sure he would be alright with it.
“Names?” the clerk asked.
“Merlin and, um.” He panicked. He’d gone with Gwaine’s idea to check Neighbour’s name. He’d only caught a glimpse of his name. something thur. He’d assumed he would eventually get another peak and the mystery would be solved.
“Sir?” the clerk asked impatiently.
Could Merlin get away with prat? No, that was rude. “Luthur,” he blurted out. “Merlin and Luthur.”
Neighbour didn’t look too much like a Luthur, but what did Merlin know? Gwaine had once said he looked more like a Colin before Merlin grew on him.
Wait. Wasn’t that spelt with an e where Neighbour had a u?
It was too late now. He certainly couldn’t run up to him and ask his name. Serves Merlin right for listening to Gwaine of all people.
Arthur waited eagerly with a pair of shoes, size 9. He’d already donned his own, ready to drag Merlin to their ally.
Contrary his anxieties, the day had been brilliant and fun. Merlin usual cheer mixing with cheek, excitement, and competitiveness was the best thing ever.
Arthur indulged in playful shoves, and nudges, and friendly punches. Despite Gwen’s effort to socialise him, it remained his primary mode of affection. He was more than glad that Merlin seemed okay with it, allowing him to be more playful.
He barely allowed Merlin enough time to wear his shoes, chattering about ball weights and wrist warm ups. He glanced up at the boards to see if the alley was set up and frowned. It announced a game between Merlin and Luthur. Who the bleeding hell was Luthur?
“You alright?” Merlin asked, tentatively.
And though Arthur’s spirits had fallen a little, Merlin’s nervous, worried face had him sporting a small smile. “Sure. Come on now, lets go.”
They bowled. They were a bit clumsy at the beginning but soon warmed up. They were quite decent by the end of the first game. Arthur was glad as that gave him a valid excuse to give Merlin congratulatory side hugs and punches. His favourite moment was when he bowled two consecutive gutter balls halfway through their second game.
Merlin clucked his tongue in mock sympathy, patting Arthur’s back. “Seems like your skills went down the gutter too.”
“Shut up, Merlin. It was clearly a bad rack.”
“Of course. How dare those pins not knock themselves out for your royal pratness! They should quiver at the very sight of you.” Arthur shoved him but Merlin wasn’t done. “I suppose it’s possible the ball was too frightened to perform too.”
“Your face has that effect on people,” Arthur retorted. Which was true, if a bit misleading. The ball would just be horridly distracted and blushing madly.
Merlin hummed thoughtfully. “Nah, it tried to escape from your abysmal bowling technique. And failed, of course.”
“I’ll show you abysmal bowling technique.” Arthur caught him in a firm headlock and ruffled his hair till he was gasping and demanding.
“Let go, you brute!” Merlin tried to shove him off, arms grabbing at his torso for purchase.
“Not until you admit I’m the best bowler there ever was,” Arthur replied smugly, greatly enjoying himself.
“You’re the greatest prat there ever was.”
Arthur released him, but only because they were getting attention from others. “I suppose that’ll have to suffice for now.”
“You’re an ass,” Merlin said, but he too was grinning as widely as Arthur.
“And you’re a little shit,” Arthur retorted as Merlin fetched a ball for his turn.
Arthur spared a glance from staring at Merlin’s pants to check the scores. He frowned at the Luthur flashing tauntingly. It was only when the scores were updated after Merlin’s bowl that Arthur even blinked.
“Luthur?” Merlin asked, brows furrowed in confusion.
Arthur’s frowned deepened. He looked around to find this Luthur, but no one was paying any attention to them.
“Who’s Luthur?” he asked Merlin, confused and a little hurt.
Merlin reddened. “You are?”
“…No?”
“Okay, alright, confession!” Merlin blurted out. “I don’t know your name.”
“I’m—what?” Arthur was bewildered. “How do you not know my name?”
“You never mentioned it,” Merlin replied defensively. “You just said ‘I’m late’ and ran off. Hold on, your name isn’t Late, is it?”
Arthur burst out laughing. “No.”
“Prat,” Merlin said, annoyed, amused, and relieved that Arthur wasn’t taking this a bad way. “Why didn’t you say anything earlier? You just let me believe your name was Luther.”
“How was I supposed to know you though I was Luther?”
“The scoreboard,” he gestured elaborately at it. “Who else would it be?”
“So, instead of asking me, you just assigned a random name to me and hoped you were right?” Arthur’s cheeks were hurting, as were his sides. Merlin was such an adorable idiot.
“It’s not random. I peaked at your mail. I didn’t get a chance to read it properly. I only caught the end of it.” He shrugged and smiled sheepishly.
“You’re an idiot. You could’ve just asked.”
There was a pause as they stared at each other.
“Well? Aren’t you going to tell me?” Merlin asked, impatiently.
Arthur smirked. “Aren’t you going to ask?”
“No. You’re a prat. I’m just going to call you that. And clotpole and dollophead and ass.” Merlin crossed his arms. “It’s not my fault you don’t know how to introduce yourself properly.”
Arthur raised his hands in surrender. “Hi neighbour,” he said cheekily. “I’m Arthur.”
“Arthur,” Merlin tested out. “Nice to meet you.” They shook hands.
“A bit backwards, isn’t this?”
“Only a bit, Luthur.”
Arthur made to pounce on him for another noogie. Merlin danced away, picking up a ball to resume the game.
They finished up soon after that, exiting the ally and returning the shoes.
“Any other basic question you’d like to ask while we’re doing things backwards?” Arthur teased.
Merlin jumped at the chance. “What do you do? I always see you go to work but I have no idea what that actually is.”
Arthur’s smile turned wry. “I’m a martial arts instructor.”
Merlin blinked in surprise. That was the last thing he’d expected from the suits and ties.
Arthur grimaced self-depreciatively. “My father expected me to do something more dignified. Lawyer, CEO, hell, the future king even. And here I am, apparently throwing away my grades and opportunities to be prestigious.”
“No, no, that’s. Impressive. I mean–” Merlin shook his head, trying to pull his thoughts away from the image of Arthur shirtless and sweating and overpowering opponents with smooth, swift moves. “Your job is being hot.”
“Pardon?” Arthur eyebrows flew up with such force, his earlier grimace disappeared without trace.
“I mean,” Merlin stammered, heart beating fast. “Martial arts is good. You clearly enjoy it so…” he trailed off at Arthur’s pleased smile.
“You think I’m hot?” He’d been afraid that Merlin was disappointed, like his father. Form the looks of the blush he was sporting, the nervous fidgeting, and embarrassed scowl, it was very much the opposite.
“Shut up, you prat. As if you didn’t already know. Why do you wear suits anyway? Isn’t it difficult to move in those?”
“Ah, yes, you’re right. I should be decked out in boxing gloves or a keikogi at all times, so you can fathom me out. Like a cartoon character.”
“You’re the most insufferable man I know,” Merlin huffed.
“I’m also the best bowler and the hottest neighbour you know.” Arthur waggled his eyebrows.
“The worst bowler and everyone thinks you’re hot.”
“I don’t care about everyone.”
Merlin smiled shyly at him. “That’s because you’re a dollophead.”
This was flirting, right? They were flirting. Arthur wanted to whoop in joy.
He laughed loudly instead. “I’m not the one who didn’t know their hot neighbour’s name.” He brushed their hands together.
“I’m not the one who ran off in the middle of introductions.” Merlin’s hand brushed back.
Arthur clasped their hand tentatively, emboldened by Merlin’s firm grip. “It’s not my fault you’re so disarmingly adorable early in the morning.”
“Don’t blame innocent passers-by for your shitty manners.” Merlin squeezed their hands.
“Idiot,” Arthur said fondly, starting a long exchange of insults.
He was a precious, loveable idiot who snarked, and teased, and had his own unique brand of flirting. Arthur didn’t want their date, because it was definitely a date now, to end. Now that he knew Merlin was at least a little interested in him, his entire body was buzzing.
They did eventually have to say goodbye. Arthur hadn’t gotten around to securing another date, but he wasn’t worried. Maybe he could leave a note in the mail for Merlin? Too cheesy?
He’d ask Gwen. He was reasonably sure Morgana was scheduled to take a business trip in a few days. That would also give him a chance to relive the arcade date. It was perfect!