**Hey guys! How y'all doing? I'm finally getting back into the swing of things; after having been dogged with health issues and other personal, messy, RL crap going on these past few months. Hopefully I'll be updating more regularly again now. God, I've missed this ❤️ Anyway, hope you all enjoy this latest instalment.

As always, thank you for your patience and continued support. Any votes/comments/feedback is greatly appreciated**

⚠️ just a heads-up that unlike the previous 2 parts of this story, this chapter contains strong language and descriptions of a sexual nature. I'm trying to make this story sexy as well as sweet!

The pattern of the moth-eaten curtains was so dizzyingly floral it was almost enough to give Arthur motion sickness or set-off his pollen allergies.

He'd always disliked his mother's taste for chintz, but he'd never really noticed just how much he disliked it, until recently. Not since he'd become so well acquainted with the ugly drapes over the past few weeks.

He spent a lot of his time skulking behind the damn things. Watching your window with bated breath; only to duck back and hide whenever you came into view.

He didn't always dart back into hiding though. Whenever it appeared that you were purposefully looking for him, he would make himself seen; his heart lifting cautiously in his chest as your gaze searched him out..

Sometimes you simply gave a little wave, and he'd wave back enthusiastically. But other times, well....there had been a few occasions now when the innocent act of waving had led to more.

Secret rendezvous in the stairwell or on the roof, and even phone calls.

Yes. You'd actually exchanged phone numbers now; such was the nature of your rapidly blossoming friendship.

These subtle developments may have been inconsequential to you, but to a lonely man like Arthur they were immense and meant the world.

It had begun on one of your rare days off....

Arthur had stepped off the elevator, lost in his own little world as usual. A world that was now inhabited with thoughts of you. His head was full of you, and he wiled away endless hours daydreaming about all the things the two of you could do together, not all of his thoughts clean ones either.

He had been feeling down that particular day, his low mood brought on by another bad day at work, and not having seen you only exacerbated the hollowness he felt inside. He was missing your company.

Then the sound of raised voices had met his ears. At first he'd shuffled along the hallway; opting to ignore the argument on the floor above. It was commonplace in this building. In every building that was like this one, and Gotham was full of them.

The agency running the place could no longer afford to be so choosy about the tenants they brought in, and so the community had fallen into a social death spiral.

However, it was only once he'd passed the landing did he recognise the sound of one of the voices. It was your voice. Uncharacteristically shrill, desperate and filled with anguish.

No sooner had he placed a foot on the bottom step; intent on making sure you were alright, when you'd come hurtling down the stairs at break-ankle speed.

"Arthur!" You'd exclaimed, halting abruptly as you noticed him.

"Is everything okay (y/n)?" He gazed up at your stricken face, his own expression etched with deep concern.

Hastily you had wiped your tears away, and nodded unconvincingly. "Yeah...it's...it's nothing. I'm fine. He just..."

His dark brows furrowed as your words dissolved into a sniffle. He wasn't well practised at comforting people when they were upset. Hell. He was so socially inept.

"You can come to mine for a coffee." He offered, awkwardly. "I don't think my mom would mind."

His mom most probably would mind. Penny never had liked the idea of Arthur entertaining guests, especially female ones. It was as though she feared him forming an attachment that she felt might threaten the sacred parental bond he shared with her.

But Arthur hadn't cared in that moment. He'd invited you over anyway, not wanting to leave you on the stairs, alone and upset.

But you didn't like to impose though. You knew his mother wasn't well. The last thing you wanted was to be an extra burden on Arthur, or make a nuisance of yourself.

You had never intended to unload all of your emotional baggage onto him. But damn, he was so surprisingly easy to talk to, it had happened so naturally without you having even realised.

"Thanks but, I might head up to the roof." You had told him, mustering a watery smile. "I could use a breath of air."

"Oh. Right. Okay."

"Wanna join me?"

Arthur hadn't hesitated. Leaping at the chance to spend some time with you. Time that wasn't just spent him walking with you to and from work.

The two of you had gone up to the roof.

The cityscape was a jumble of shapes like kids building blocks. Blocks that had been thrown down so close together they almost touched. You had remarked on how unapologetically urban and grotesque it all was; the lack of trees, nothing but endless tonnes of concrete soaring up out of the sidewalk.

But then you had also mused over how it must look beautiful at night, in it's own way.

It was chilly up there; the wind cutting right through Arthur's thin jacket. But he hadn't felt the cold. All he felt was the addicting vibrancy of your presence which seemed to envelop him, and he wanted to absorb your very essence, your warmth.

You talked as he listened and smoked; contemplating as you went on to bemoan your woes at having to cohabit with an overgrown man-child, who seemed to find fault in everything that you did, and never had a kind word to spare for you.

Arthur wasn't able to offer you advice. All he could do was listen sympathetically, which seemed to be enough. He hoped it was enough.

He wasn't to know that for you, it was more than enough.

Being in Arthur's presence always made you feel better somehow. You would ask him about his day, and he'd regale you with tales of performing at kids birthday parties, and entertaining sick children at the hospital.

The more time you spent chatting with him the more apparent it became...that he had such a beautiful soul, and a big heart with a lot of love to give.

It strengthened your conviction. You were determined to help him find the love he was so clearly lacking in his life.

Your friendship had developed from nothing, and your fondness for the eccentric, shy man crept up on you as if from nowhere.

Within the short space of a month you'd gone from being virtual strangers to firm friends, and it was a clandestine friendship; shrouded in secrecy that made it private and intimate, but it was innocent. The fact that it was a secret made it seem pure to you somehow. Untarnished by judgment and the outside world, like you had your own private little club of two.

Now whenever Arthur came skulking into the pharmacy, there was a spring in his step. He would greet you with a boyish smile that you found undeniably charming.

"Hey Arthur." You would beam at him, as you took his prescription; aware of his gaze following you around the counter.

The not-so subtle shift in your acquaintance had not gone unnoticed by your employers. They alone were party to the exchanges you shared with your new friend.

"I didn't realise you were so well acquainted with Mister Fleck." Neville, the pharmacist, had remarked. "Have a care won't you. He's not a well man. Best not to get too familiar."

Your boss' warning had annoyed you a little. Neville Helm was a nice enough man and you understood that his words of caution were kindly meant, but he was also painfully old fashioned. Like too many other people, he seemed to naturally fear what he did not fully understand.

"Mental illness isn't a disease." You had responded defensively, feeling overwhelmingly protective of Arthur. "He isn't going to hurt me."

Actually, when you thought about it that way, your own partner hurt you on a regular basis. Hurt you in ways that people never stopped to consider. Every derogatory comment, every time he made little to no effort to help you around the apartment or with the utilities, or failed to take your feelings into account....he was hurting you. Hurting you far more than any friendship with Arthur could.

"Is there something you need to tell me about you and Arthur Fleck?" Audrey had asked on a separate occasion. "I've seen the way he looks at you (y/n)."

Neville's wife was far more open-minded, wise, optimistic and shrewdly perceptive.

"No." You insisted, heat searing your face as she gave you a wry smile. "We're just friends that's all. He doesn't....he doesn't look at me in any way."

You weren't to know how Arthur secretly yearned for more. How he slumped back down on the couch now in defeat; disappointed that he hadn't seen you in the window.

Of course he knew you had a boyfriend. Knew that you would never be more than friends. Never see him as potential boyfriend material. But that wasn't enough to stop him from longing.

                                                                                  >>------------------------------->>

The sound of your voice on the other end of the phone made Arthur smile. His chest heaved slightly, as if his heart was swelling and bursting to break out of his rib cage.

Other feelings flooded him too as you spoke, your words stirring his senses as though you were right next to him; your breath tickling his ear.

"I never told you before....but I love the sound of you voice, Arthur. It...it does things to me."

What a coincidence, he thought. He adored the sound of your voice. It was like moonlight and music, his favourite kind of music. And right now it sounded breathy and delicious; causing a latent heat to trickle down into his belly.

"What things? What....what does it do to you?" He asked, equally breathless now. He was desperate to know. He had to know.

You responded with a teasing laugh. Shit, he loved your laugh too.

"Mmhm....it does things to my body."

Arthur felt like he might faint. Did you not know what you were doing to his body right now? The sudden rush of blood flowing away from his brain, rendered him incapable of thought, making him feel lightheaded.

"Would you like to do things to my body, Arthur?"

His palms grew so sweaty he almost dropped the phone. His free hand inched up his thigh on instinct. Oh god. The ache. The burning need to touch you made him want to touch himself.

"Y-yeah..." He exhaled, shakily.

He clenched his fist, gripping the material of his sweatpants.
He couldn't. It seemed wrong, so very wrong. You had a boyfriend. How could he ever face you again knowing that he thought of you this way? That you made him as stiff as a metal post? Made him want to pull his dick out and.....

No, no, no. He wouldn't.

But holy shit he wanted to. Needed to. Needed to feel some pleasurable friction. Needed release from this burning desire that had slowly been building inside of him.

"Tell me. Please. I want to hear you say it. I want you to describe all the things you'd like to do to me." You practically begged.

The neediness in your voice only succeeded in turning him on even more.

"Everything." His voice was now a low rasp; his throat constricting as he pictured you in his minds eye. Beautiful and radiant, stretched naked on his bed...

No, wait. He didn't have a bed. Okay, that was wrong. He couldn't imagine you naked on his mother's bed. Or on the bed you shared with that asshole you lived with. That was a step too far.

"I want to touch you....and kiss you. I-I want to kiss you all over..." He continued, desperate to get his words out now. Time seemed to be of the essence.

A soft gasp from your perfect lips filtered through his ear, making goosebumps rise on his skin. And he couldn't help himself. He had to end his torment. He couldn't have you but this would have to suffice.

Slipping a large hand down the front of his conveniently loose sweatpants, he began to pump furiously, His body shuddered with pleasure.

He suddenly became aware of being lay on his front; fractures of sensual thoughts shattering through his sleep-muddled mind. His blood chugged through his veins. He felt wired, hot, and...yes. Hard.

Apparently you were now starring in his erotic dreams.

Still half asleep, he groaned, slightly grinding his hips into the cushion beneath him.
But then he stopped himself. He wasn't in control of his dreams, but he was semi-conscious now, and shouldn't be thinking dirty thoughts about you.

He woke up, properly this time, feeling confused, alarmed, and painfully aroused He groaned again and sat up, reaching for his cigarettes.

A cold shower was what he needed. That ought to calm down his overzealous libido.
If it didn't....perhaps whilst in the shower he could...take care...of the problem. As long as he didn't think of you. Your hands, your pretty mouth, your--

Fuck. Who was he kidding?

Arthur couldn't fool himself any longer, trying to pretend that what he felt for you was purely platonic.

He wanted you so fucking badly, he would love to push you down and fuck you senseless on the bed you shared with your boyfriend. He didn't care, even though he knew he should.

Although, he wanted you all to himself of course. In reality he wouldn't want to be an affair. A dirty secret. And he couldn't share you.

He glanced up and found his eyes settling on the small painting of Jesus that hung on the wall; thick with dust. It was of course, his mother's.

"Sorry mom." He muttered to himself. "I'm going straight to fucking hell."

Trying to put his thoughts into some semblance of order, he leaned back, smoking; his foot tapping against the floor rapidly. His emotions were running riot, and he was struggling to process them all.

This wasn't just attraction he felt. Not just desire. It was much more than that. The something he was feeling must be love, he was certain of it. Not just primal, maddening lust, which was bad enough, but real love.

And that, he decided, was even worse...

From across the courtyard in the other part of the building, you got up out of bed; unable to sleep.

There was too much on your mind that was true, but it wasn't your thoughts keeping you awake. You weren't sure why but you felt oddly restless, unsettled.

This must be how Arthur felt, you mused. To be awake when the rest of the world slept. To see the clock laughing in your face as time ticked away, mockingly. To feel almost suffocated by the dense stillness of the night that was so all-encompassing it swallowed you whole.

Suddenly you felt very alone in the world.

Is that how Arthur felt too, you wondered. Alone and suffocating slowly in a broken city that didn't care?

You walked over to the window, your eyes automatically searching the confines of Arthur's front room. There was a light on. There was always a light on. But you couldn't see him.

Decisively you walked over to the light switch and flicked it on and off like some sort of signal to gain his attention. You were never sure how or why, but at times you somehow....sensed...he was there.

Arthur was there. He'd noticed your living room light come on, and now he could see it flashing on and off. He stepped out from behind the curtains, smiling like the smitten idiot he was.

He waved at you and mouthed the word, "Hey"

You gestured with your hand, mimicking a phone call, he nodded and stumbled off towards the kitchen as quickly as he could.

His phone rang once, before he had chance to dial your number.

"Hey." He answered in a soft whisper, slightly breathless, and you smiled the moment you heard his gentle voice.

"Hey neighbour. How's your night going?"

"Dragging, as usual." He chuckled into the receiver, and you could just picture his slightly lopsided smile. "The new sleeping pills don't work."

"So I gather. I'm sorry, Arthur. That really sucks."

"It isn't your fault, and I'm used to it now anyway. How come you're awake?"

You shrugged out of habit, even though you weren't speaking face to face. "I don't know. Stuff on my mind I guess."

"Is...everything...okay?"

He sensed your sadness in your reluctance to answer, and instinctively knew something was wrong.

You couldn't help but love that about him. The way he looked into your eyes and knew you weren't alright even when you claimed you were. Just like he recognised it in your tone of voice too.

There was no need for pretence with Arthur. Nowhere to hide the truth.

"You okay (y/n)?" He persisted. "Did you and Rick have another fight?"

You stifled a laugh. God, your life had become so predictable.

"What else is new." Your shoulders slumped forwards. "I won't bore you with the details. It's just the same old shit, different day."

You heard him sigh, as he dragged a large hand over his face. You wasn't aware of how much it affected Arthur, knowing that you were unhappy.

"Is he home?"

"Yeah, he's pretty much passed out drunk. If he lives through the night and survives his hangover, he'll drink himself sober tomorrow."

Arthur's brows dipped into a perplexed frown. "How d'you know he'll be drinking again tomorrow?"

"He's going out to watch the game with some friends."

"Oh yeah." Arthur recalled you having mentioned it on your way to work that morning. "But I thought they were coming over to your place to watch it."

Now it was your turn to sigh. "That was before I pissed him off. He's been home all day but hasn't done a damn thing. Just sits around, drinking or smoking pot. Uggghh." You growled slightly in frustration, then attempted to shake off your anger. "Anyway enough of Rick the dick..."

Arthur laughed in amusement; the sound of it warmed you to your very bones, and suddenly all you wanted was to see his kind face more than anything in the world.

"Let me see you." You blurted out unintentionally.

There was a moments pause, followed by the sound of shuffling, as Arthur passed his phone through the kitchen serving hatch then hurried into the living room.

"Is that better?" He enquired innocently, as he came into view.

The sight of him made your smile widen, as he appeared at his window; the phone receiver clutched to his ear.

"Much better. The view just improved."

Your heart stuttered when you realised just how flirty your playful remark sounded when said aloud.

For a few seconds you stood silently gazing at each other. You felt a strange pang of longing stir in your chest. It confused and unnerved you. Throwing you off balance.

In such a short space of time Arthur had become so familiar to you. He was like one of your closest friends. Your only friend if truth be told. You hardly ever saw any of your friends these days.

And the loneliness was instantly quelled. You could feel the knotted hollow feeling lifting from you as you stood smiling moronically at your new best friend.

Isn't that what loneliness was? An emptiness begging to be filled?

You hadn't forgotten your promise to Arthur. The one you'd made to him in the laundry room. But between work and Arthur taking care of his mom, you hadn't actually got around to arranging anything yet.

But you were more determined in this moment than ever to find love for Arthur.

"Wanna go out tomorrow night?"

Your question caught him off guard. From where you stood you watched his hand rub the back of his neck; a nervous tick of his you'd grown accustomed to him doing whenever he felt on edge.

"Come on Arthur, we made a deal remember? You can't back out on me now."

"I know, but--"

"You could show me this comedy club of yours that you go to." You ploughed on.

His hesitancy wavered, and after a very long, drawn-out pause he relented.

"Okay."

"Great! Shall I come by around....seven?"

He shook his head. "No, I'll come to you."

Arthur was a bit of a stickler for tradition. He considered himself a gentleman.
Okay so he had woken up to find himself trying to fuck his couch, but that was the effect you had on him. He couldn't help being a hot blooded male. Despite the fragility of his stature, he was all man.

But he was also a hopeless romantic at heart, and it was only right that he meet you at your place like the guy was supposed to. Even if it wasn't technically a date.

"Cool, it's a date." You grinned.

Oops. You hadn't meant to say that, you really hadn't. But it was out there now, so all you could do was stumble over your words.

"I mean...uh, what I meant was..." You gave up trying to correct yourself, making a big deal of it would only make things worse.

Arthur would know that it was most definitely not a date.

Unfortunately however, the kaleidoscope of butterflies that were now swirling and fluttering around your stomach, seemed to think that it was.