Chapter Text
When Arthur moved out of his exes apartment to live on his own for the first time, he didn’t really expect much. Of course, he knew there would be small adjustments; the increase of rent, the sudden free space, buying a significant amount of his own cookware. He would have to remember that he no longer lived on the second floor, and he would have to change his mailing address, and of course he would miss Vivian and her dog (actually, he probably would not miss the dog, and having to constantly replace his shoes after being chewed).
He had prepared himself for the changes, for the loneliness, and for the many, many fires that were to ensue in his kitchen. He, however, did not prepare for his neighbor.
Camelot Pointe Complex was a six story building almost directly in the middle of Bristol. There was a bit of a drive to get to the riverside, but the nearest corner shop was barely five minutes down the road. The building itself was old and the lift worked maybe two or three days out of the week. Arthur found that he didn’t mind stairs, but he would’ve liked to know the unreliability of the elevators before he put a deposit down for the fourth floor.
His flat had one bedroom, one bathroom, and a little bit of space between the entryway and the living room. The kitchen had a microwave and an oven, and the fridge had one handle and the bottom was freezer storage. He considered taking out the batteries of the smoke detector as he unpacked pots and pans, some of them with stickers all over the bottoms, but he decided he wouldn’t, just in case. He knew his father would probably check every outlet and maintenance device the first time he came around, and Arthur knew he probably wouldn’t come around more than once.
His father was disappointed in him, which wasn’t quite unusual, but it was the first time Arthur felt as if he didn’t fully deserve it. He had worked at his company for nearly a decade, being the prime example of a pristine successor, and allowing the pretentious grooming that it took for him to stay awake during board meetings. He had taken all of the classes he’d been told to in university, and he had played on the employee rugby team seasonally for a few years.
He had followed orders, closed deals, and had forged a good relationship with most of the branches under his division. He was the perfect son. He had been the perfect son, he’d thought, until he hadn’t proposed to his ex.
She wanted to get married and start a family. He wasn’t sure he was even in love with her anymore. His father didn’t like that his son was making his own choices in life; leaving the girl he had personally introduced, moving to a city that he hadn’t already bought half of, and the real kicker, getting caught kissing another man. That was the real reason, somewhere deep down, but it wouldn’t exactly be a good image for his company to be so openly conservative, so his father had blamed all of it on his breakup.
So, yeah, he didn’t think his father would visit more than once, not after he’d left a mark on his face with how hard he’d hit him the last time they’d spoken. Arthur was a little glad, though he tried not to admit it.
He’d been settled for a few weeks at this point, using his new apartment more as a place to crash than something to be lived in. He’d seen a few of the other people who lived on his floor, and he’d spoken briefly to other residents when he’d visited the mail room, but otherwise he had spent his days blissfully unaware of anyone else who lived there.
That was until he held the lift for a stranger, looking a little out of breath as he slipped through the doors beginning to close, huffing a ‘thanks’ before returning to his phone. It was the beginning of the week, so there were options other than the stairs.
Arthur had just returned from work, walking into the elevator and realizing just in time that there was someone else following him in. The man was bundled up with a jacket and a scarf, one end thrown over his shoulder and the other hanging off his arm. It was bright red. He looked up quickly to check the wall of buttons, but relaxed just as fast when it was clear the four had been hit.
Arthur had never seen him before, with bright eyes and dark hair that stuck up in the back. He felt himself get a little flustered, realizing that he would be living on the same floor as him, with his scruff and leather jacket. He was handsome, in a way that Arthur couldn’t quite place, but thought was rather attached to the air in which he held himself. He seemed cool, to put it simply, like Arthur would have crushed on him in highschool, or if he saw him in a coffee shop.
The fact that he lived in the same building took away from the mystery, though, which placed him just shy of pining, but he couldn’t seem to pull his eyes away, either.
The man yanked on his scarf a little, finally looking up from his phone and blinking sheepishly around the lift. They were two floors away, now, and the elevator whirred a bit at the effort of raising them. His blue gaze wandered, slowly, towards Arthur, glancing at his dress shoes and then the briefcase by his feet, then towards his face. There, he seemed to pause, his entire posture going rigid. They stared at each other for another few moments, the only sound coming from the slow creaking of walls around them.
“Er,” Arthur absentmindedly brought a hand to his jaw, hoping he didn’t have any food on his face. “Can I help you?”
There was another stretch, where they reached the third floor, and the doors shuddered. The man opened his mouth, as if to say something, his fingers twitching towards him, but then there was a ding. They had arrived on their floor.
The stranger inhaled. “I…”
“Um…” The man continued to look at him, and they awkwardly maneuvered around each other, slipping out into the hallway. Arthur cleared his throat. “I’m—”
“Arthur,” He said, his voice rough. “And you don’t remember.”
He blinked at him. “Excuse me?”
He lifted his hand, making a wide, jerky motion, and then scoffed, turning on his heel and rushing towards the stairs. “Of course he doesn’t bloody remember!”
Arthur watched him go, holding his briefcase awkwardly and wondering how the guy had known his name. Or his first one, at least. He periodically glanced backwards as he made his way to the door, almost running directly into another tennant as he waited for the stranger to reappear.
“Oh, dear, better watch where you’re headed,” An old woman spoke, walking out from a door two over from his own.
“Oh god,” He had reached out to steady her, and took his hands back, stepping away politely. “I’m so sorry,” He couldn’t help but glance over her head, once again looking for the man, feeling his face flush when he realized she was still staring at him.
“Distracted, are we?” She said, amused, her mouth pulled to the side in a funny little line.
“Sorry,” He repeated, exhaling softly and trying to pay attention to the interaction. “I just had the strangest conversation. With someone else who lives on this floor. I was wondering if he was going to come back around…?” He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, and the woman glanced behind her as well, following his gaze.
“Who’d you run into?” She asked, politely.
“I didn’t catch his name,” He began, and she turned to him, her eyebrows raised. He elaborated, “He’s around my age, probably, dark hair and a bit of a beard.” He gestured to his own chin, indicating where the hair was.
She smiled, a little, as if recalling a fond memory. “Oh, you’ve run into Merlin!” She exclaimed, her tone shifting entirely. “He’s quite a nice young man. Helps me with my groceries and the internet. Whatever did he do to make you so spooked?”
“Nothing,” Arthur assured her, recalling the conversation from only moments ago. “He just…it was nothing.”
“He’s a bit odd,” She said, something telling in her voice. “Knows things before you do, sometimes. I can’t quite put my finger on it. Don’t know if he’s too smart for his own good or if he’s a psychic,” She laughed, loudly and with her shoulders shaking up and down. Arthur cracked a smile, too, finding it infectious.
“I am sorry for running into you, truly,” He felt himself saying, and she waved him off, having softened a little at the edges.
“No harm done. Just take your time, my dear, when rushing about. I’m Alice,” She gestured to her door. “If you ever need anything.”
He felt something warm bubble in his stomach, stark against the uncertainty that had lingered there. He may still need time to adjust, but maybe it wouldn’t be as lonely as he’d thought. “Thank you,” She nodded her head, then turned to shut her door all the way, locking it with a ring of keys. He headed down, turning once to make sure she’d made it to the lift alright, then stepping into his flat.
Merlin, it ran across his mind as he maneuvered through unpacked boxes to sit on the couch, the cushions sinking in a little more than he expected, what a funny name.