Chapter Text
Merlin leans his head tiredly against the window and closes his eyes, but that only works for a few seconds, then the bus has to slow down in the slow- moving rush- hour traffic and his head bumps uncomfortable against the hard surface. So, he opens his eyes again and leans back into his seat. He watches the blond law student trying to balance his hot coffee in his hand, the liquid is threatening to spill over the paper cup any second now. He thinks he’s a law student, cause he has one of these little bags where they put their large books or paper collections in. He just looks as tired as Merlin feels. He has bags under his pale blue eyes and his angular face seems more sharp around the edges than usual.
They always take the same bus, at the same time, at least Monday, Wednesday and Thursday 9 am, that is. Merlin made watching him a habit. He gets on the bus, five stations after Merlin, at the hall of residence. He always sticks out in the crowd of students, and Merlin wonders, if that’s the case because he’s so good looking – tall, athletic, blond with blue eyes and a sensual mouth, or because he seems so lost. His eyes often have a dreamy expression, as if he was somewhere else, not in a packed bus, with all the other students. Sometimes he looks sad and exhausted, like today.
Merlin guesses that law is a demanding subject, at least that’s what he’s been told. He himself studies art, not art history, he’s a student at the art school, just next to the main campus. Besides that, he works as a carer for handicap people and the reason why he’s so damn tired today is, that he’s been awake half of the night, spying out the carriage siding at the west end of the city. Trainwriting is his passion, more than bombing the city with his tags. For graffiti on walls he likes to work in a collective, they can do more, large, artful pics, when his little team of five are working together. But Trainwriting he likes to do alone or with Gwen, because, she’s just as fast and unobtrusive as he is. He plans on tagging one of the carriages tonight. For that he has to be prepared, he has to know how many guards are there and where he could get in, without being noticed.
The bus has finally reached the campus, full 15 minutes too late, Merlin grabs his large folder, were his samples for the portrait assignment are in and yawns into his trademark neckerchief. Just as he passes the blond law student, the boy attempts to get up too, with his mind somewhere else he overlooks Merlin and bumps into him, causing the blond to grip Merlin’s shoulder to keep his balance, unfortunately that doesn’t apply for the rest of his coffee. His hand jerks forward and he spills the content of his cup over Merlin’s folder.
As Merlin starts to curse, the blond stares at him in shock. As he begins to stutter pathetic apologies, Merlin grabs him by his wrist and drags him out of the bus.
Outside he releases his wrist, and kneels to inspect the damage the coffee has done to his drawings. Luckily only a few drops are splattered on the first paper, the pencil drawing of Gwen’s face, but nevertheless it is ruined.
The other boy stands beside him, looking crestfallen and has not stopped to try to apologize, but Merlin does not listen to him, he only sends him an angry glare.
“Next time, watch where you are going!” he tells him, before he wipes away the coffee and closes the folder, then he quickly walks away, while the other still hasn’t moved and stares after him.
Arthur’s so tired, but he can’t sleep. Today was horrible. The last few days he had trouble sleeping and when he sleeps, he wakes up even more tired than before. Days like this, he wants to spend in bed, just shutting out the world outside, but he can’t. It’s his first semester at University and he’s determined to proof that he can do it. And then, this morning this terrible thing happened, where he spilled his coffee on the other guys’ artwork. It was so embarrassing. He feels so bad, for being such a clumsy klutz, ruining something so beautiful. The angry face of the guy has haunted him all day, Arthur hates it, when people are angry with him, even if he doesn’t know them. He has seen this guy around, he takes the same bus, three times a week. Not only has he seen him around, that would be an understatement; he has watched him. These gorgeous, deep blue eyes and these prominent cheekbones… he would lie, if he would say he hadn’t noticed. Sometimes he imagines, how he would invite him on a date, sometimes, he even imagines how it would feel to kiss these full lips. But who is he kidding, he would never have the courage to ask him out, especially not now, he’s sure that the lanky boy he dreams about, now hates him. Whatever chance he might had had, it’s gone now.
Arthur decides to go for a walk, to clear his head, maybe he will be able to sleep afterwards, he can’t afford to fall asleep in his lecture again.
The night air is cold and the part of the city where he lives is not the most beautiful one, but he doesn’t care. He runs his fingers along the concrete walls, there’s a new graffiti, next to the kiosk. A familiar name; Merlin, he reads and smiles. His father had told him the stories about Merlin the sorcerer, King Arthur and the knights of the round table, because his mother loved these stories so much, she wanted to name him after them.
He never knew his mother, she died giving birth to him. He has seen many of these tags in this part of the city, maybe the sprayer lives somewhere around here.
On the bridge, where the railways are running, he stops and looks down. As always when he ends up here, almost automatically, he thinks of jumping. How would it be, to just do it? To fall into the darkness? Here, he wouldn’t have to think about a poor engine driver, running him over, because this is just a siding. But he’s not sure, if the bridge is high enough to really kill him, if he would jump. He wouldn’t of course, he couldn’t do that to his sister or his father. Just sometimes he finds solace in the thought.
He looks around him, but the streets are deserted, so he swings his legs over the barrier and sits down on the other side, letting his feet dangle into the empty space underneath him. This actually makes him feel alive.
He looks down at the carriages, only big schemes in the darkness.
Minutes he just sits there, lost in his thoughts, when a movement between the carriages catches his attention. A shadow, tall as a man. Arthur squints his eyes, to see better, but the man is dressed in black and he can only see him when he moves. He hears a faint hissing sound and wonders what the hell he does down there, when he sees white contours appear on the first carriage. A tagger, he suddenly understands. Fascinated he watches, as the name Merlin takes form. After only thirty minutes, everything is done.
Pleased with himself, Merlin stuffs his cans back into his backpack and slips out through the hole he has cut into the fence earlier. Putting his headphones on and adjusting his neckerchief, he uses to cover half his face, around his neck again, he slowly walks away from the scene of crime, only to stop short, when he sees someone sitting on the bridge, on the wrong side of the bridge, casually dangling his feet on the edge. But that’s not the part that shocks him most. He’s pretty sure this guy has just seen him, tagging the carriage. The guy hasn’t noticed him yet and Merlin frenetically thinks about his options. Then the guy shifts and Merlin recognizes the law student, who ruined his drawing that morning. On a gut level, he makes a decision.
“Hey you,” he says, leaning casually against the barrier next to the blond, “thinking of jumping?”
The other boy startles and for a second Merlin thinks he will lose his balance and fall, but he quickly regains his composure and turns to him with a cocky smile.
“So, you are Merlin.” He says, “Nice to meet you. I’m Arthur.”