Archive of Our Own ^beta

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.

Chapter Text

When Friday rolled around, Arthur got dressed up in a nice blue sweater with slacks, getting Faroe in a matching blue and brown dress before they left for the gallery. He let John know they were on their way, Arthur finally walking in holding Faroe’s hand and looking around.

John had begrudgingly put on a nicely fitted suit; sleek black with yellow stitching and a yellow gold tie. He was on edge from the moment he received the text that Arthur and Faroe were on their way. He was nervous to have them here; he was proud of his work, don't get him wrong. But he was nervous about what Arthur would think about it. He wanted him to like it, and even better, he wanted Faroe to find some joy in it. He was overthinking it. It didn't matter. Their opinions wouldn't change anything.

But it would make him feel better.

He hovered near the door but got dragged further than he wanted to go by some fuck or another, and saw over a client's shoulder Arthur and his darling daughter walk in. He not so politely made his excuses and made a bee line for them. He walked up, hands grasped behind his back, hair folded nicely over his shoulder (he wasn't vain, but he knew what looked good).

"Good evening, Mr. Lester," he bowed slightly at the little girl and grinned playfully. "Miss Lester."

Arthur looked relieved as he finally spotted John, his mouth going dry at the way the man was dressed up so nicely. God, he just wanted to peel him out of that stupid suit. He nodded back. “Hello, John.” He then smiled as John bent to Faroe, the girl only once again giving a wave but smiling this time. Small improvements. “We’re so glad we could make it,” Arthur smiled, then chuckled as he lowered his voice a bit. “Hopefully no one’s being a pompous prick to you.”

John stood back up to his full height and groaned, running his fingers over his tie as he glanced around them. "I swear, they get worse with every exhibit. They think they are so high and mighty and--" he cut himself off and took a deep breath. "No matter, would you like a tour?" He was feeling bold so he stuck his arm out, bent at the elbow for Arthur to take, praying he would take it.

Arthur chuckled again at the way John spoke about them, glad that he could give the man a small reprieve from them. And then John was offering his arm, and Arthur blushed as he took it with a smile. “We’d love one, thank you, John.”

John's heart sang as Arthur took his arm. Everyone else could fuck off for all he cared, he just wanted the three of them there.

"Of course, Arthur." He pulled them deeper into the gallery, showing them his favorite pieces and explaining his thought process through making them.

He was hoping he wasn't too terribly boring, he wasn't very adept at talking to people, especially about his art, but it seemed like his two guests were enjoying themselves.

One of his pieces was more interactive than the others; it was a piece that showed one being but when the handle to the side was pulled, it would pull the person apart to show two halves inside. He showed Faroe, indicating for her to pull the handle, but she was a little too short to reach. He didn't feel like it was his place to pick her up without at least fucking checking with her father, so he looked up at the man from where he was crouched next to her, a question on his face.

Arthur was having a wonderful time. Even if he didn’t fully understand everything, he was enjoying just being here and supporting John’s artistry.

Arthur smiled thankfully at John’s questioning look, bending down to talk quietly with Faroe for a moment. The little girl nodded and Arthur stood back up, nodding to John. “It’s alright, she says you can pick her up.”

The fact that the little one trusted him enough to let him pick her up made his chest warm. He stood back up and stood behind her, moving slowly and carefully so she could back off if she wanted to. He grabbed her around the waist and hoisted her up against his chest, his arms sturdy around her.

"Okay, just grab that and pull down as hard as you can! There you go!"

He thrilled at the giggle that escaped the little girl as the art piece moved. He let her do it a couple times before she pulled her hand back and started to wriggle. He gently set her down and smoothed her dress down from where his arms had wrinkled it.

Arthur watched them with a warm feeling blooming in his chest. Faroe didn’t trust easily, so this was good. He watched as she pulled the art piece, glad that John was respectful of her boundaries as she began to wiggle to be let down. Once down and her dress smoothed, Arthur chuckled and took her hand again. “Was that fun?” Faroe smiled and nodded, her free hand taking one of John’s so they could continue to be led around. Arthur watched John for his reaction, slightly curious if it would be okay.

John hadn't known what people meant when they would say that children could light up your life.

He was starting to understand what they meant.

When Faroe reached her hand up and slid into his much bigger one, he swore his heart melted. He thought maybe he was dying with how warm his chest was, but that it was fine, if this is how he goes, this is how he goes.

He gripped her hand gently and led them around to the rest of the exhibit, still explaining and answering any questions that Arthur might have had.

He couldn't remember the last time he had this much fun at one of his own showings.

Arthur relaxed as John simply took her hand and continued moving, the rest of the showing going wonderfully. As the night wound down, Arthur ended up holding a sleepy Faroe in his arms as the last people began to slowly mosey out. “John, this has been wonderful,” he smiled up at him, speaking softly as to not wake Faroe. “Your art is so stunning, I’d love to talk about it more when I’m not carrying a six year old,” he chuckled. “I’ll uh…I’ll see you soon?”

John smiled softly at the sleepy girl laying on Arthur's shoulder. "Yes, please." He was going to be bold, fuck it. "Dinner? Next friday?"

Arthur’s eyes widened slightly, but he smiled nonetheless. “Oh, yes! Yes, I’d like that very much! You can text me with details,” he beamed, wanting to kiss him or even kiss his cheek but deciding against it. “I’ll see you then?”

John beamed, his lopsided smile feeling foreign on his face. "Sounds perfect. Let me get you a cab, you need to get that little one home."

He put a hand on the small of Arthur's back and led him outside.

He hailed one easily and opened the door for Arthur. He leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to Arthur's cheek, inhaling his cologne greedily. He let the man go and tapped on the passenger side window to hand the driver a hundred. "Thank you," he said to the driver, who tipped his hat and rolled the window up again.

"I'll see you Friday."

If the touch to his back wasn’t enough, the kiss to his cheek was going to do Arthur Lester in. He couldn’t help but lean into it, wanting to chase it, wanting more, but he simply sat and looked up at him through the window with shiny eyes. “Oh, y-yes! See you Friday!!” The driver took off and Arthur watched as John waved, giving a silly sigh as he headed home.

Noel absolutely adored Faroe. The little girl liked him as well, and loved having the detective as her babysitter. Arthur was currently visiting Daniel to help the man get settled after a surgery, and he had asked Noel to watch Faroe until the afternoon.

While Noel was fixing lunch for Faroe, he noticed that Arthur’s kitchen faucet wasn’t working on the hot side, so he got the number from Arthur and put in a call for a maintenance request.

John was giddy. Downright fucking giddy. He thought it was sweet that Arthur couldn't wait until Friday to see him. He wondered what made up problem he had for him today.

He gave a swift knock to the door, bored smile on his face to keep up the facade when the door opened, revealing a tall man, taller than Arthur, with graying hair and light eyes.

The smile slid off his face as he regarded the other man silently, sizing him up.

"Mr. Lester?" he asked, tone flat.

Noel opened the door with a friendly smile, stepping aside. “Hey there! Arthur’s out right now. You must be here to help me with Mr. Lester’s faucet,” he chuckled, waiting until the man came in to close the door behind them. He could sense a weird feeling off the man, but he wasn’t gonna say anything. “Name’s Noel, I’m babysittin’ lil Faroe.”

John just nodded dismissively. He hadn't realized Arthur was--involved with someone else. It set his teeth on edge for a reason he really didn't want to examine right now.

"Understood. Which faucet is giving you problems?"

Noel quirked a brow, looking over the man and the way his friendly demeanor quickly diminished. “It’s in the kitchen, I’ll show ya.” He led him to the kitchen and twisted the knob, showing how no water was coming out. “The cold side is workin’, so I’m not sure what’s up. Thanks for looking, Mr. …”

He needed to calm the fuck down. He was overreacting. Him and Arthur were barely friends, he had no reason to be this fucking upset over the fact that he and this handsome man were--

He dropped the thought before he did something he would regret.

He got down on his knees, opening the cabinet under the sink with a little more force than was strictly necessary and immediately saw the issue.

This was going to take a minute.

"Doe. John Doe." He answered simply, not looking up at the other man.

As soon as Noel heard the name, he grinned as all the pieces fell together. This was the John that Arthur had been gushing about for almost a damn month. This was the John who was oh so sweet to little Faroe and had the beautiful art gallery. He knew the guy probably liked Arthur just as much. And this man was jealous of Noel being in this apartment. Oh, this would be fun.

He leaned against the kitchen island, deciding to be just a little bit of a shit. “No shot that’s your real name.”

John took a deep breath and let it out silently. Jesus fucking Christ, fuck this guy.

“What, you a cop? You wanna see my drivers license?”

He was only being as cordial as he was simply because Faroe was there. He wasn’t about to be a major dickhead with her in the house. Not fucking happening.

“Detective, actually,” he grinned to himself, voice sickly sweet. “You don’t have to show me nothin’, I was just messin’ with ya, Johnny.” He stood up. “I’ll leave ya to it.” He moved to the living room to sit with Faroe on the couch, watching Bluey and feeling smug.

John watched the man leave, his brows pinched together.

"Detective, actually." he mumbled mockingly under his breath.

He took a deep breath and started to wrench on the pipes and hoses probably harder than needed, but he knew they could handle it.

Noel could hear John clanking and wrenching around under the sink, feeling only slightly guilty for riling up Arthur’s little boyfriend.

It wasn’t long before Arthur walked in the door, smiling as he gave a sigh. “Hello everyone!,” he called, hanging up his coat and toeing off his shoes before moving to the living room. “Hello little love!,” he beamed, hugging Faroe as she tackled her dad in a hug. “And hello, Noel, thank you again for coming over.” Noel stood and moved over to clap his shoulder. “Hey doll,” he hummed, loud enough for John to hear. “How’s Daniel?” Arthur nodded. “He’s doing well, feeling much better.”

John jolted at hearing Arthur's voice, slamming his head into the underside of the sink, swearing loudly. He quieted down when he remembered Faroe was there; that's the last thing Arthur needed, a kid that swore like a sailor.

His hands stopped moving when he heard the word doll get thrown out by the detective.

John rolled the tension out of his neck and kept working.

Idle hands were the devil's workshop after all.

Arthur heard a sound come from the kitchen, brows furrowing as he looked in the direction. He then saw the toolbox on the island counter, face lighting up. “John, is that you?,” he called, moving towards the noise and peering around.

John peeked around the lip of the counter to see Arthur beaming at him.

God dammit.

"Yeah, it's me, the detective called and let me know that the sink didn't have hot water," he said flatly. He didn't want nor need the pity that he was sure was coming.

“Oh yeah, I gave him the maintenance number so he could give you a call, I’m glad it was you,” he smiled, fighting back the anxiety at the flatness in John’s voice. “How’s it looking?,” he asked, leaning against the counter and looking down at him still.

Why was he still talking to him when his precious detective was in the living room probably waiting for a kiss or some shit.

Fucking prick.

He figured Arthur wanted him out of the apartment so he could spend time with the other man. His hands started to work faster.

"I'm almost done, I'll be out of your hair soon."

The way Arthur leaned onto the counter still looking at him didn't escape his notice, and he tried not to acknowledge the ache in his chest at what he now realized would only be friendship.

That was fine. He could deal with that.

“Oh,” he hummed, hiding his disappointment. “Well, we were thinking of going somewhere for lunch, all of us, and…and I was going to see if you wanted to come with us.” He tried for another smile, still leaning on the counter. He wanted John around, wanting him and Noel to like either other since Noel was a big part of his life.

Why did Arthur sound so disappointed? It almost made John fold.

Almost.

"I have some other duties to get to, I do apologize." He was laying it on thick and he knew it. He kind of wanted Arthur to sweat a little bit at being caught out. "I'm all finished here." He put his tools back in his toolbox and stood up, checking the water.

Sure as shit, hot turned on immediately.

He got one last good look at Arthur and he swore he could feel his heart shattering in his chest at the look on his face. He showed himself to the front door. "Have a good day Mr. Lester. Detective," he spared a half smile to the little girl. "Faroe." He shut the door and swore under his breath, running fingers through his long hair.

Arthur stood up straight as John got up to put his tools away, smile falling as he tried to understand this weird shift between them. “Y-Yeah, no worries, John.” He followed him partially to the door, the ‘Mr. Lester’ sticking through his heart like a knife. What the fuck was going on? The door shut and Arthur could only stand still for a moment, trying to process everything. He then turned and moved into the living room, letting out a deep breath. “Well, I,” he mumbled. “I guess…I guess we should go get lunch.”

Noel looked at Arthur and immediately caught the disappointment hanging off of him. He may have gone a little overboard with teasing John.

“Let’s! Come on, kiddo,” he scooped Faroe up off the couch, making her squeal in delight. “Shall we go get take away and head to the park?” He looked at Arthur, looking for confirmation. He could chat with the man without having a six year old privy to the inner workings.

Arthur seemed out of it as he grabbed his and Faroe’s jackets, helping her get it on before doing up his own. He then looked at Noel with a little ‘hm?’, the man’s words then registering. “Oh! Yes, uh…yes that sounds great, Faroe will love that.” He gave a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, the three of them heading out the door and walking down the block to Faroe’s favorite take away place.

Okay, Noel was starting to feel really bad now. He didn’t mean to fuck things up this bad. He just wanted to make the new kid sweat. What good was it being a detective if you couldn’t make your best friend’s new paramours get a little twitchy.

He chatted mostly at Arthur as they walked, since the man really wasn’t responding much until they got their food and wandered over to the park.

Arthur was as responsive as possible, still smiling and trying to chat as they got their food and moved to the park. They sat on a park bench to eat, then let Faroe nearby to play. Arthur sighed as he watched her, shaking his head. “I’m sorry for being so…weird. I don’t understand what’s going on with John.”

Noel tried to act innocent. "What happened with John? It sounded like he only said like, three fucking words to you, doll."

He would come clean. He would. He just wanted to dig a little bit. Detective instincts and all that.

“That’s just it,” he sighed, nervously twiddling his fingers. “He’s never been so short with me. It just seems like something got under his skin or upset him, I don’t-“ he paused, slowly turning to Noel and squinting slightly. “Charles Noel Dowd. What did you do.”

He looked at Arthur with the most innocent look on his face that he could muster. "Why you blaming me? I didn't fucking do nothin'."

That might be a stretch, but he technically didn't say anything wrong.

"I invited the kid in, told him where the issue was, maybe teased him for his name, and he got to work, nothing weird."

Arthur only stared harder, shaking his head. Noel was very smart, and he knew that the man must have said or done something. “No. No, I’ve known you far too long, Noel. There’s quite literally NO other explanation. What. Did you do.”

Noel huffed out a laugh and ran a hand through his hair. "Really, I didn't say nothing, but I think he got the impression you and I were--involved." He sucked on his teeth for a second before coming to a decision. In for a penny, in for a pound. "I may have also made sure he heard me call you doll." His face had a shit eating grin on it as he leaned across the table to get in Arthur's space as much as he could. "Cause you're a doll, what can I say?"

“Yes, in your dreams,” Arthur gave a sigh, blushing softly but playfully pushing Noel’s face away from his own. “Noel,” he drawled, trying to look irritated. “You’re actually insufferable, you know that? You knew what was going on and you antagonized the poor man.”

Noel laughed harder as he was pushed away, throwing his hands in the air. "Hey, not my fault he's not used to the east coast charm." He smirked wide. "I don't see how me calling you a darling little pet name would be enough to shatter the poor kid. I'll go apologize right now, let him know that you only have eyes for him!" He stood up, preparing to do just that.

“Noel sit down right now!,” he gasped out, blushing brightly. “He’s probably just hurt, I’ll talk to him on our dinner on Friday,” he sighed. He then chuckled, shaking his head again. “I can’t believe you’re such an ass.”

Noel sat back down reluctantly. He really would have gone.

“Oh, dinner on Friday huh? You need a babysitter for the night?” He waggled his eyebrows. “Like the whole night? I don’t mind hanging out with Faroe as long as you give me every nasty detail.” He gave him a wolfish grin. “Like I said, not my fault he launched himself into conclusions. Seems like a him problem.”

Arthur rolled his eyes, though it held no real annoyance. “It’s not a him problem, you’re far too good at pressing people’s buttons once you’ve detective’d them out,” he laughed. He then blushed and shook his head. “I…don’t think for the whole night. It’s not even a date, it’s just dinner,” he blushed. “And hopefully I’ll be able to sort out your mess.”

He put his hands up. "Hey, I'm just saying, kid, he seems real sensitive." He laughed again. "Ah, come on, give yourself some credit. This is most certainly a date, treat it as such."

He leaned on the table, his arms crossed over his chest. "I didn't cause any sort of mess and I stand by that. Maybe it'll give him a kick in the pants to actually make a move on you, doll." He winked, a wry smile on his face.

Arthur relaxed a bit at that, giving yet another soft sigh. “I just…I like him, Noel. And I don’t know if I’ll necessarily treat it as a date, but I’m clearly not going to dismiss the idea.” He chuckled at the wink, then pointed a playfully accusing finger at him. “Promise me you won’t rile him up again!”

He smiled softly as he pulled his pack of smokes out of his coat pocket and stuck one between his teeth. “I know you do, kid, it’s written all over you.” He lit it and inhaled, blowing it up and away from Arthur. “Just keep it in mind, that’s all I’m saying.”

He pulled the cigarette out of his mouth and scratched at his brow, chuckling. “Eh, he makes it too fun. I won’t piss him off, how about that?”

“Alright alright, I’ll take that at least,” he laughed, the three of them enjoying the rest of their night.

Friday morning, Arthur bit his lip as he sent a text to John. He hadn’t bothered him since Noel was over, but he wanted to make sure.

Good morning, John! Are we still on for dinner tonight?