Chapter Text
Arthur sighed as he looked over the dishwasher, not understanding why it wouldn't just start. It had been working just fine the day before. Arthur and his daughter Faroe had only moved in a month prior after an amicable divorce from Bella, who was now traveling the world with her girlfriend, and he was slowly learning how to do things as a single father. But Faroe was a good kid, and she made it easy.
He passed the kitchen island, gently ruffling Faroe's hair while she colored, picking up his phone to make a call to maintenance. "Alright," he hummed out loud to his daughter as he hung up. "Maintenance is on their way up, so there's going to be someone coming up to look at our dishwasher, okay?" Faroe nodded up at her dad, going back to coloring as she gently swung her feet under her. It wasn't long before there was a knock at the door, Arthur moving over to open it with a smile.
John stood behind the door, double checking he had the right unit. He knocked solidly on the door, shifting his tool box in his hand.
A broken dishwasher should be relatively easy to fix, it shouldn't take him too long. He also had to get to the hallway in the building on the other side of the complex; it had a busted lightbulb and if he remembered correctly a wasps nest that he needed to remove and then-
His thoughts stopped dead as the door swung open.
"Mr. Lester?"
Oh. Hello. "Yes, hi!," Arthur greeted easily, stepping aside to let the taller man in. He was stunning, and as he walked past Arthur he could smell the man's cologne. He closed the door behind them, leading him to the kitchen. "Please, you can call me Arthur. And this is Faroe," he smiled, gesturing to the young girl, who merely gave a meek wave before returning to her coloring.
John nodded silently before turning to Faroe and offering a small smile. "Hello Faroe."
He turned back to the man of the house and got a good look at him and very much liked what he saw. He gave a slight smile to the man. "Can you show me to the dishwasher, Arthur, and I will get to it then?"
Arthur smiled at the soft way he greeted Faroe, then gave a small noise like he had been caught staring. "Oh, yes of course!" He moved farther into the kitchen, waving a hand a bit exasperatedly towards the broken machine. "It makes sounds like it's going to run, but then it doesn't seem like any water is coming out," he explained, hoping that the information could be useful in any way. He watched as the man began to look it over, moving towards the fridge. "Could I offer you a drink, Mr..."
John startled slightly. He hadn't fucking introduced himself. Jesus Christ, he was awful with people. He turned to face the man, quietly admiring the way he bent at the waist to dig in the fridge.
"Apologies, Arthur, you can just call me John. And I'm alright, thank you though."
He set down his tool box and opened the dishwasher, peeking inside. Ah, he could see the problem already. He got on his knees and stuck his arm inside, fishing around for-there it was. He pulled out the trap and brought it to the sink, holding a hand underneath it so it didn't drip on the floor, and rinsed it out and cleaned it off. He got back down on the floor and popped it back into place, making sure it was secure.
He stood up and brushed his hands down his worn out jeans, giving it one last look before turning back to Arthur.
"It should be good to go now. You can start it up and see if it's running, that way you don't have to put in another request."
It felt flimsy on his tongue but, for some reason he couldn't put a name to, he really didn't want to leave yet.
"Ah yes, no worries," he hummed, suddenly feeling a little awkward. He didn't know whether to go back to the table or stay close by, having no idea if he would even be needed. He then watched as the man stood, feeling horrified as he simply rinsed off the trap. God, why hadn't he thought of that? As John put the trap back in, he gave a sheepish nod and closed the dishwasher to try and start it. Sure enough, the spray of water could be heard after a moment, and Arthur paused the cycle to open it back up so he could refill it with the dirty dishes. "Thank you, John, I...I'll admit I feel a bit silly that I didn't think about that," he chuckled sheepishly. "Hopefully I didn't waste your time."
John let out a deep chuckle. "No trouble really, not many people think to check it and it's not something that is necessarily taught," he shrugged lightly. "No harm no foul."
He was honestly a little disheartened that the problem was fixed and he couldn't talk more with Arthur. But maybe-
"Is there anything else you needed me to look at while I'm here?"
Arthur's shoulders dropped a bit as he gave a small, relieved chuckle. "Alright, I'm glad for that, then." He was ready to walk John to the door, and then his eyebrows rose a bit in surprise at the question. "Oh! I uh...I mean, my bedroom door has been squeaking terribly, but I was just planning on getting some WD-40 and calling it a day. Unless...unless you wanted to take a look at it..."
John nodded. "Do you mind showing me? I can take care of it right now."
He swung the door back and forth to see if it was all the hinges or just one of them. It was the middle hinge.
"I do apologize for the smell of the grease, it should dissipate shortly though."
He dug around in his tool box until he came across the can of WD-40 and shook it. He stuck it up against the hinges and pulled the trigger, letting just a little bit out, just enough to get in the hinge.
He let it sit for a moment before swinging the door back and forth again, the squeak lessening each time he moved the door. He gave a small smile and opened his arms up at the door as if to say 'ta-da'.
Arthur stood aside, watching as the man worked his magic on the door and stand with his arms open. He let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. "Thank you, John, I really appreciate it. You've saved me from a store run." He tried hard to think of anything else John could look at, but he simply couldn't think of anything. "Well, I uh...I should let you get back to it, I don't think I've got anything else for you to look at."
Arthur's little laugh bloomed in John's chest. He wanted to snag it out of the air and keep it in a bottle. He shook his head slightly. What the fuck was wrong with him? What was going on?
No matter; job done, he needed to leave.
He nodded back at the man before walking back to the front door. His broad shoulder brushed past Arthur and he got an electric feeling move in a wave through his bicep and down to his left hand. He clenched it tighter around the tool box as he walked.
"No trouble, honestly, this is what I'm here for. Let me know if you need anything else."
He didn't know what passed over him but he gave a wolfish grin at the man before opening the door and seeing himself out.
As their shoulders brushed, Arthur blushed as a small shiver went through him. The warmth radiating off the taller man was palpable, and Arthur wanted to drown in it. “I will, thank you so much, John,” he smiled, the grin on the man’s face making him slightly weak in the knees. He then shut the door behind him and blushed, moving back to the kitchen to get Faroe a snack, his mind plagued with thoughts of the beautiful handyman.
As John went to complete other jobs, his mind kept wandering back to the beautiful man. His copper hair looked so soft and he wanted to run his fingers through it. He wanted to sit next to the smaller man and let him rest his head on his shoulder. He wanted to drag him into his lap and make him sing-
He slapped a hand into his thigh. He needed to fucking get it together. He was still at work, this was too much. He hopped up on his ladder and got busy replacing the bulb in the hallway, reciting poetry in his head to chase away thoughts of golden eyes and bright smiles.
Arthur went about his days, taking care of Faroe and enjoying his time off work, always thinking about John. It made him feel a little silly, but wouldn’t anyone want to jump his bones? He wondered if John was single. He hadn’t been wearing a wedding ring, so at the very least he wasn’t married. He needed to find out more.
A month or so after their first meeting, Arthur decided to do something slightly bold and maybe a little crazy. He called maintenance, claiming that his bathroom sink had been leaking and he wanted someone to check it out.
John wasn’t religious but thanked god that he was the only maintenance person on staff this one single time. He got a call to Arthur’s apartment again! He would get to see the man again!
He wiped the smile from his face as he walked to the door, aiming for nonchalant. This was his job. This was nothing. Blah blah blah, business transaction.
By the time he knocked on the door, his bored expression was back on his face, but his heart was racing as he knocked solidly on the door.
“Hello again, Arthur”
Arthur had opened the door, face unknowingly getting brighter when he saw it was John. “Hello, John! Thank you for coming so quickly,” he hummed, letting the man in and closing the door behind them. “I managed to clean up the water,” he lied. “But it seems to be dripping still.” Faroe was sat on the couch, watching Bluey under a blanket, looking about ready for a nap.
John nodded at the man before stepping inside, his eyes tracing over everything again before landing on the little one on the couch.
“Hello again, Faroe,” he said softly.
He turned back to Arthur, who had closed and locked the door. “Do you mind showing me to the problem sink and I can get started on the issue?”
Faroe once again only gave a little wave, going back to her show while Arthur smiled. “Yes, I’ll show you.” He led John to the bathroom, giving a sigh. “Thank you again for looking. I’ll leave you to it.” He blushed as he moved out to the living room, sitting next to Faroe and watching the tv. He didn’t want to hover this time.
John got down on the floor as Arthur disappeared around the corner. He was a little disappointed that the man wouldn't be there while he worked, but he had a young daughter he needed to keep an eye on AND he was sure he was just letting him do his job.
Fuck, chill out, Doe.
He opened the cabinet under the sink and smiled to himself to see it was cleared out. So many people just expected him to work around the shit they kept in the way. It was a small courtesy but it made John's heart warm.
He got on his back and immediately noticed the severe lack of water. He cocked an eyebrow and got up again to turn on the faucet to see where the leak was.
That was-strange.
He didn't see a leak. Anywhere. There was no water dripping.
Maybe something had spilled under the sink that Arthur had thought was the pipes leaking?
He turned off the faucet again and laid back down, running his hand along the pipe to make sure he wasn't losing it,
Nope, completely dry.
Alright, whatever, no harm no foul.
He tightened up the pipes just to be safe before putting everything back in his toolbox.
Arthur kept eyeing the doorway to the bathroom, listening to the sounds of John working under the sink. It was...rather nice to have some other noise in the house. He didn't miss Bella, he knew they were better off this way and that they were both happy. But he missed having another presence in the house. He missed having another person to count on for things. And honestly, he missed having another person in his bed to wake up to. He stayed on the couch, head snapping up when he heard the sound of John's toolbox closing. He stood, moving over. "Oh, done already?," he asked, trying and unknowingly failing to hide the disappointed tone in his voice.
John looked up from where he was kneeling on the floor at the beautiful man that was now standing in the doorway.
Did he sound-disappointed? John didn't understand where that tone came from, but it intrigued him deeply. He decided to test something, just for his own amusement, he told himself. If nothing came of it, nothing came of it.
"Yeah, all taken care of for you, Arthur." He put a little more growl into the name than was necessary, but could be passed off as just him standing up, and watched the mans face closely for any sort of reaction.
Arthur watched as the man stood, and suddenly his name was being growled like that, and it made a visible shiver go up his spine. He couldn't stop the blush on his face, giving a sheepish smile to try and cover up how badly it affected him. "Thank you, John, I appreciate it so much," he hummed, clearing his throat. "Can I get you anything to drink before you head off? I'm sure you're very busy, but even handymen need breaks."
John was intrigued by the reaction and the flush that crossed those high cheekbones-he wanted to see how far down it went, desperately.
And the little smile made John want to devour him.
He wondered what else he could make Arthur thank him for.
He cleared his own throat before responding, trying to get himself fucking under control.
"I would love a drink, thank you, Arthur, I appreciate it greatly."
"Of course, of course, anything for our favorite handyman," he chuckled, moving to the fridge to grab the pitcher of lemonade. Homemade, of course. He was trying to show off a bit after all. He poured a glass for the taller man, scooting it over the counter before leaning back against the kitchen island. "So, how long have you been working here?," he tried for conversational, crossing his arms over his lithe chest.
John sucked in a sharp breath at the term of endearment. He scratched absentmindedly at his arm as he followed Arthur into the kitchen, gladly accepting the glass of what looked like lemonade and sipped on it tentatively.
Holy shit this was good.
He brought himself back to answer the question. What did Arthur ask? Fuck, the man was distracting. John wondered if he could lift the man up and on to the counter, slide in between his legs and-
He coughed into his fist.
"I've been at this complex for about 3 years."
Arthur smiled at him, the enjoyment of the drink clear on the man’s face. “That’s wonderful, you must know just about everything that goes on around here, then.” He then leaned forward against the counter, chin propped up on his palm. “Do you live here too? Or just work?” He was genuinely curious about the man, and he was hoping he was being at least somewhat charming.
Arthur was a flatterer.
John rather enjoyed that about him. Maybe he could try the same if given the opportunity.
He laughed easily. "I like to think I do, but I usually don't pay much attention to the gossip that the front desk people try to tell, so apologies for that."
As Arthur leaned closer, John felt the desire to do the same. Lily had told him that he had a nice chest and shoulders and he should use that to his advantage.
Fuck it.
He leaned back against the counter, his elbows holding him up as he pushed his chest out as much as possible without it feeling weird. He was being weird wasn't he. Fucking- who cares.
"I live here too. It's not too bad and I get a discount for working here so I'll take it. It's relatively easy work and keeps me active. What about you? What do you do for work?"
Arthur tried to school his expression as John leaned back, but god he just looked so fucking good. Younger, more confident Arthur would’ve been on his knees already. He nodded as he listened, then smiled brightly and genuinely because he got to talk about his job. “I’m a music teacher at the elementary school, so I’m on summer break right now.”
John hid his wolfish grin as he watched Arthur's eyes trail down his front before snapping back to his face.
Oh he's got Arthur's type on lock.
Nothing could have prepared him for Arthur's dazzling smile that looked like he had stared straight into the sun as he started talking about his job though.
"That's amazing," he said genuinely. "What instruments do you play then?"
Arthur stood up at that, still smiling brightly. “Piano is my main instrument, I’ve played since I was young. But I also dabble in guitar and harp, actually.” He tilted his head, giving John what he thought was another subtle once over. “What about you? Do you dabble in any arts? Musical or otherwise?”
John smiled at him, giving him his own once over. He was lithe, shorter than John but looked like he could take a few punches. He almost started laughing as the idea of "You have the cold, calculated demeanor of someone not to fuck with." floated through his head at this soft man with a glint in his eye that said he could be otherwise if pushed.
A prey animal came to mind.
He brushed the thought off with a sniff.
"I paint, actually. Nothing of note, per say, but I just love getting my hands dirty." He smirked.
Arthur blushed again at the once over from John, feeling like a rabbit being looked at by a wolf. But it wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Instead of feeling like he'd be hunted, he felt like he'd be eaten. And he wasn't complaining. He hummed in response, trying to ignore the thought of how John could really get his hands dirty. "I see. Maybe you'll have to...show me your works sometime."
John’s smirked widened at the blush that brushed across Arthur’s features.
He wondered what the man was thinking about.
“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”
He was pushing it. He was really pushing it.
And honestly? He couldn’t find it in himself to care. Arthur seemed to be receptive to the blatant remarks, so why not keep going? Why not have some fun?
Arthur took a breath, giving a nod to try and distract himself from the dirty thoughts coursing through his brain. "Sure, follow me." He stood up straight and led John to his bedroom, closing the door behind them and standing for just a moment to look at him in the light of the lamp coming from the corner. He then moved to the wall where a keyboard sat, sitting on the stool. "It might not be my best, seeing as I don't have a proper piano, but I think you'll get the gist," he hummed, warming up with a couple chords before going into the beautiful sweeping melody of an original song.
John felt his heart stutter as he was led to what looked like Arthur’s room. He glanced around, taking in the decor and the furniture. He watched Arthur wander over to the keyboard and begin to play.
It was beautiful.
He could feel goosebumps skitter up his arms as the piece continued and he watched Arthur play. He was good looking, absolutely, but when he was lost in his craft? He was ethereal, it was amazing to watch.
He wished he could curl up on the bed a doze to the sound of his playing forever.
Arthur lost himself a bit in playing, eyes closed as his body moved along with his hands across the keys. He loved this melody, an original that he had written for Faroe before she was born, that had now become a lullaby for the young girl. He finally finished with a small flourish, turning to smile up at the taller man.
Holy shit
“Holy shit,” John said, a wide smile on his face. “That was incredible. You’re fucking incredible”
He slow clapped as he leaned against Arthur’s dresser, foot kicked over his other one.
Arthur was genuinely sheepish at the clapping, giving a small chuckle. “I don’t know about incredible, but thank you, John.” He stood and opened the door again, leading John back out. “And now you’ll have to show me your artwork sometime,” he smiled, glad he could impress the handsome man with his playing.
John smiled down at the man. God he was beautiful. He cleared his throat.
"No, you truly have a gift, it's impressive to watch you work."
He pulled out his phone and tapped open his calendar. "I actually have a little art exhibit coming up next..." he scrolled through his calendar, finding the date. "Next week, Friday. I can send you the details if you want? No pressure though, I can always just show you pictures."
Arthur’s brows rose. An art exhibit? Wow, his stuff must really be good. He nodded and he smiled again, pulling out his own phone to pass to John for his number. “No, I’d love to come! Would I be able to bring Faroe? I think she’d really love it, and I want to expose her to more things like that.”
John took his phone with ginger fingers before opening his own contacts and handing it to Arthur with a blank one on the screen. "Oh yeah, it's an all ages show, and you don't have to stay for the whole night, it's just a whole bunch of pompous pricks running around. Not very interesting, but I'd be happy to walk you around to all my pieces and explain them to you." He grinned down at the man.
His agent would probably be pissed at him for dodging potential buyers all night, but fuck it, he wanted to spend it with Arthur and his daughter.
Arthur took the phone and added his contact, debating for a second if he wanted to be silly and add a little heart emoji for fun, but he decided against it. He handed it back and nodded. “Then we’ll be there,” he chuckled. “Hopefully the pricks aren’t too pompous.” He gave a small sigh before suddenly feeling like he was overstaying. In his own apartment. “Well, I should stop holding you hostage and let you get to work,” he laughed, trying to go for nonchalant.
John smiled as he typed out his name, adding a lil devil emoji, the smiling one, obviously. He handed it back with an innocent smile.
"I can't wait to see you there," he purred. "I anticipate the prick level will go down with you there." He leaned into his personal space a little bit. "You're not holding me hostage, I promise. I like talking with you it's-nice."
Arthur fought the urge to lean back as John leaned towards him, their faces close. Two could play at this game. “I feel the same,” he smiled back. "It’s nice having someone over. Makes it a little more…fun.”
John's grin widened as his gaze flicked down to Arthur's mouth. His mustache was neatly trimmed over his upper lip and fit him nicely. It was a copper color just like his hair and looked lovely against his skin tone.
He was ripped out of the moment of appreciation by his phone ringing loudly in his hands. He cursed quietly as he answered it, getting a new request from some other apartment for a broken garbage disposal.
"Sorry about that, I do have to get going but--feel free to text me and I'll send you the information for the gallery." He leaned in again. "It was nice chatting with you, Arthur."
Arthur was so close to doing it. It was obvious the way John was looking over his face, he had to want this too. He opened his mouth to say something before the phone ringing startled them both. Arthur blushed and turned away to compose himself as John spoke into his phone, then turned back around with a smile. “Yes, of course! I’ll text you for the details.” He led John to the door, leaning against the frame with a smile. “I’ll see you Friday, John.”
John smiled and brushed his fingers along Arthur's arm as he walked past through the door. "See you Friday, Arthur."
Arthur was glad that John was turned away in time to miss the way the touch sent a shiver up his spine. God, this was crazy. But John was into it too, so he couldn’t be too worried.