**A/N This chapter contains lyrics from the song Good Old-Fashioned Loverboy by Queen, especially for my good friend Clown_star1 . If you're not familiar with the song please give it a listen. We're both in agreement that it fits our beloved Arthur so perfectly!
Also please don't come at me in the comments for what goes down in this chapter. It's only a story xD Hope you all enjoy!**

(1st person POV)

As you raised the glass to your lips, you can't fail to notice the stubborn tremor in your hand.

This was getting ridiculous now.

You'd been out with Arthur for the past three hours, and it was turning out to be a very enjoyable evening. But you'd been shaking ever so slightly due to a wired giddiness you were feeling. You needed to get a hold of yourself. There was no need to feel churned up or nervous, you were having a great time.

Okay so the comedians hadn't been all that funny, but you'd still spent a fair amount of time giggling into your hand. Arthur made you laugh, he was surprisingly funny now you were seeing a more relaxed side to him. His personality was shining through like sunshine on a rainy day.

"Okay here's one...." His mouth quirked with amusement as his sea-green eyes raked over the words scrawled in his journal, "Why does Doctor Pepper come in a bottle?"

You shook your head in answer, before taking a sip of your whiskey cocktail.

"Because his wife is dead."

Without being able to stop it, you snorted loudly as you almost choked on your drink.

"Hey, easy there." His large hand came to rest tentatively on your shoulder; his touch making your bare skin tingle.

"J-Jesus, Arthur!" You spluttered, before dissolving into a coughing fit whilst simultaneously laughing uncontrollably.

His hand moved to your back; patting it gently. "Sorry."

He smiled sympathetically but his eyes were at odds somehow. Their large expressiveness made him look so innocent, but they glittered with mirth, which only added to the hilarity of it.

"No you're not." Playfully, you jabbed him in the ribs, making him laugh too, "You enjoy shock humour, I can tell."

"So that's what they call it." He smirked, "How can you tell I enjoy it?"

"Your eyes." You told him honestly, "They're like the windows to your soul."

Naturally you found yourself looking into them then, and he held your gaze without so much as blushing or flinching. The intense eye contact made you feel alarmingly prickly all over. It was peculiar, but you didn't dislike it.

"If I can see pain in your eyes, then share with me your tears." He said suddenly, catching you off guard, "If I can see joy in your eyes, then share with me your smile"

Your eyes rounded in surprise. "Arthur that's....that's so beautiful." You smiled at him fondly, whilst still managing to look him in the eye. "Is it from a poem?"

Arthur glanced down at the table then, smiling coyly, "Who knows. I think I saw it on a bumper sticker once."

And just like that you were laughing again.

"You're so funny, Arthur."

"It makes me think of you though."

Your laughter died in your throat and you swallowed hard; feeling a hard rush of emotion. It was almost too much. His sweetness was overwhelming, it could so easily move you to tears.

As you nervously met his eyes again, your heart suddenly stuttered in your chest.

Granted, there'd been many shared looks between you tonight, but that didn't signify anything, even though the jangling of your nerves suggested otherwise.

Several times throughout the evening you'd felt the heat of his gaze on you, and it burned your insides.

What had changed? This was still Arthur, although he was looking devastatingly handsome in a striking wine-red suit; his hazel curls gelled and swept back; emphasising the contours of his angular face and sharp nose, even the birth scar above his top lip.

Arthur wasn't your average, poster boy kind of handsome. But he possessed a dark, wolffish beauty that definitely made him stand out from all the rest.

You coughed gently, clearing your throat. "That's so sweet, Arthur."

With a momentary lapse of co-ordination, you accidentally spilled some of your drink as you tried to set it down on the table; the dark liquid soaking into the white tablecloth.

"Oh shit!"

"I'll fetch you a napkin." Hastily, Arthur pushed his chair back and rose.

You watched him weave his way around the tables in the crowded room. With his back towards you you were able to gaze at him freely, and in slight awe.

His posture exuded an understated confidence that you'd never seen before. In fact his overall demeanour and mannerisms had subtly altered, and it was throwing you off balance.

Pogo's was smoky, and dimly lit; which created an almost hazy atmosphere. Arthur had sat beside you all night, smoking heavily and occasionally scribbling down notes in his journal. He'd listened to the comedians in silence, as if abstracted; a sort of cloud of confusion on his thick, dark brows.

All the while you'd been peculiarly conscious of him, of the way his arm rested near yours. At other times you'd felt his gaze on you, and each time you looked up and caught him watching you intently, it's as if you knew intuitively that he was just as aware of you, as you were of him.

"There you go." He said as he handed you a napkin, while using another napkin to dab at the stained tablecloth.

"I can't believe I did that, what a klutz! These cocktails are too expensive to waste." You took the napkin gratefully and dried your hand, "Thank you Arthur. You're a real gentleman."

"Gentleman, isn't that a bit outdated now?"

"Outdated? How so?" You frowned slightly, trying hard not to be distracted by the way he unbuttoned his shirtsleeves and rolled them up slightly; revealing a pair of thin yet sturdy looking forearms.

"It's something I read in a magazine. Some article by Doctor Sally. It said modern women don't find chivalry a turn-on, or something like that."

"You read Doctor Sally's advice column?" You chuckled, "Pay no attention to her. I find it hard to believe that she'd be cool with a guy letting a door slam in her face, or leaving her to struggle carrying her grocery bags."

"So you don't find it off-putting then?"

"Not at all. I mean, it's just good manners mostly."

He nodded, looking thoughtful, "Like offering a lady your jacket when its cold?"

"Exactly! Or.....like waiting around outside her place of work to make sure she gets home safely." You couldn't resist adding.

For the first time tonight, Arthur's cheeks turned a soft shade of pink, and he ducked his head slightly in embarrassment. You were almost kind of relieved to see it, as it reassured you that he hadn't transformed completely.

He was still shy, just less timid around you, and in all honesty you actually rather liked the more confident, relaxed Arthur. Even though he was the one who now had you muddling your words and blushing.

"What about Rick?" He blurted, surprising himself as well as you.

You couldn't fail to notice the tension that suddenly gripped your shoulders at the mere mention of his name.

"What about him?" You managed, hating yourself for acting coy. You knew what he was getting at, but you weren't sure you were ready to have this conversation.

"I mean...he must've treated you nicely once, right?"

"Well, he hasn't always been a complete jerk. Although, he's never been particularly romantic." You pondered, as you idly stirred your drink with your straw, "But we were younger and I suppose romance wasn't so important to me back then."

"So is it more important to you now?" He asked, taking a sip of his own drink whilst looking you dead in the eye.

He'd insisted on drinking water at first, but by your second round you'd convinced him to live a little. Now he was on his third glass of whiskey, and it seemed to have worked wonders bringing him out of his shell.

"Maybe." You shrugged helplessly, feeling frustrated. "The whole bad boy thing doesn't seem so appealing to me anymore. I mean, it's exciting and passionate for a while but in reality it doesn't last, plus you can't maintain a relationship if there's no stability. Bad boys aren't usually reliable, and they only end up hurting you."

"What if you could have both though?" Arthur mused, rubbing his jaw, "A gentleman who's also passionate?"

Heat seared your face. The alcohol had already tinged your cheeks pink, but now they were practically glowing. "Y-you know, we're meant to be talking about you, mister!"

"We are?"

"Yes! I promised to help find you a date."

Arthur scoffed, his smile slow and crooked. "Good luck with that."

"Hey, enough of the defeatist attitude." You reprimanded, prodding him gently in the chest, "Now tell me....what are you looking for in a woman?"

"I don't know. I'm not exactly in a position to be picky."

"Arthur don't say that!" You cast your gaze around the room; your eyes accidentally landing on a pretty brunette sitting nearby."What about her? Do you find her attractive?"

Arthur followed your gaze and frowned, "What kind of question is that? A woman like that would never date me--"

"But would you want to date her?" You persisted, growing exasperated as he shook his head. "You must have a type, right?"

"Just as long as she has a pulse."

You narrowed your eyes and tried to look stern, which was all but impossible thanks to Arthur's boyish, adorable charm.

"You're not making this very easy, Arthur."

He sighed, flashing an apologetic smile. "Sorry. But why does it matter so much to you anyway?"

"I don't know." You answered honestly, "I just.....I can't stand the idea of someone as sweet as you not being able to get a date."

"Thank you. But....I can't relate to 99% of humanity."

"And who's the other 1%?"

He held your gaze with a slow blink, "You, (y/n)."

You swallowed hard, thankful for the sudden interruption of the compare returning to the stage to introduce the last comedian of the evening.

As Arthur turned his attention to the stage you struggled to keep your eyes off him. You felt shaken by the magnetism that seemed to pull you in. It was alarming but delicious. Utterly unnerving, yet invigorating.

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

It was a surprisingly mild night for once in Gotham. As you strolled along the sidewalk next to Arthur you found yourself smiling contentedly. You hadn't succeeded in finding him a date, nor had you made any progress discovering what type of woman he might be interested in or attracted to, but you'd had a good night all the same.

And Arthur seemed to have enjoyed himself. In fact he was enjoying himself still.

He was humming a low tune to himself, lost in his own little world. But the soft smile that graced his thin lips suggested he was happy, and that was all that mattered to you right now.

God, if anyone deserved a bit of happiness in his life it was this man.

In any case, you'd come up with an idea. A possible back-up plan for finding him love.

You'd spoken to a friend of yours earlier in the day, after she called to ask you if you'd received the invite to her sisters' upcoming wedding, and inspiration had struck.
Katie-Lou had been single for some time now, and from what you could recall she'd always had a weakness for older men. Now all you had to do was arrange a meeting between the two of them somehow.

"Hey, Arthur...I have a friend who I'd quite like you to meet." You declared suddenly, deciding it was better to broach the subject sooner rather than later.

Arthur glanced at you curiously, his dark brows beetling together. "What for?"

You rolled your eyes in playful exasperation, "You know what for. I think you'd like her."

"What makes you think that?"

"Well....she's really nice, and you're definitely her type--"

"She goes for mentally ill loners?" He quipped.

"Don't say that. You're not a loner, you have me, remember?"

As your gaze absentmindedly wandered; following the various pedestrians who ambled by, his next words made your eyes snap back to his face...

"How could I forget. You're all I need."

Feeling thrown off-kilter, you stumbled slightly and his large hands immediately reached out to steady you.

"Hey, careful. You okay?"

You tilted your head back to look up at him. His jade green eyes were star-bright in the glow of the street lamp, and you felt your throat clench with nerves.

"Y-yeah. Thanks. It must be the alcohol." You forced a laugh that sounded hollow and fake.

"Don't worry." He assured you, taking your arm and threading it through his, "I've got you."

Your chest tightened inexplicably, as you gently extricated yourself from his tentative grip.

"I'm fine, honestly. I'm not drunk. Just a little unsteady in these heels."

His expression visibly crumpled before your eyes. Your rejection leaving him stricken.

You couldn't bear it, the guilt was overwhelming, but you couldn't exactly explain to him that you couldn't allow him to touch you. It no longer felt innocent. The chemistry between you crackled in the air all around you like static electricity, and it was as terrifying as it was addicting.

"Uh, shall we live dangerously and get a cab home?" You suggested, desperate to change the subject.

Ordinarily you wouldn't splash out on a cab, but you didn't feel like taking the subway this late.

"Isn't taking the subway more dangerous." He responded, and you weren't sure if he was making another joke or had taken you literally.

In truth, Arthur wanted to make the most of this time with you. He also desperately wanted to impress you, which is what was giving him the courage to be bold tonight.

"You know I'll protect you, (y/n). You don't have to be afraid of anything." He assured you, gallantly.

Undeniably touched, you came to a stop on the corner by a basement bar; which brought him to a standstill too.

"You, Arthur Fleck, are a very lovely man. Any woman would be very lucky to have you."

As he looked down at you, your stomach began to flutter again. A tense silence ensued; the two of you being held in a perfect capsule of time together, as you became lost in each other's eyes. For that brief moment, you were the only two people in the entire world, and the gritty streets of Gotham fell out of focus.

Even the sounds of the city around you faded into white noise. All except for the familiar song which drifted up from the bar; filtering into the street....

I can dim the lights and sing you songs full of sad things. We can do the tango just for two. I can serenade and gently play on your heart strings. Be your Valentino just for you...

Without meaning to you found yourself giggling. The timing of the song couldn't have been more perfect. More comedic even.

It was Queen. The song, Good Old-fashioned Loverboy.

Arthur's eyebrows quirked questioningly, so you gestured towards the bar with your hand.

"It's the song. It-it just reminded me of you." You admitted, unintentionally.

He looked utterly delighted then, and to your surprise he began to mime along to the lyrics, and broke into a theatrical little dance.

....Ooh, love, ooh, loverboy. What'cha doin' tonight, hey boy? Set my alarm, turn on my charm. That's because I'm a good old-fashioned loverboy.

"Arthur, stop!" You practically begged between giggles.

His little performance was attracting the attention of passers-by, but that didn't bother you. What bothered you was how animated and adorable he was; whilst somehow managing to possess an understated sexiness that seeped through into his fluid, graceful movements.

......I'd like for you and I to go romancing. Say the word and your wish is my command....

He mimed, as he grasped hold and swung around the lamppost, before sidling up to you and bowing flamboyantly at the waist.

You gave him a round of applause, the two of you dissolving into laughter.

The moment was ruined by the sudden harsh sound of tyres screeching to a halt. You both turned your head, following the intrusive sound, and it took a few seconds for you to register what was happening.

"Well well well, look what we have here." Rick's head appeared at the open window of the passenger seat. He looked thoroughly pissed, as he took-in the sight of your companion. "You never said you were going out with cardigan-boy."

You flinched at the cruelness of his jibe. Rick had always had a very unpleasant, mean streak, but you weren't prepared to tolerate him mocking Arthur.

"Don't start, Rick. I told you I was going out with a friend--"

"Yeah but since-fucking-when have you been friends with him?!" He demanded, "Is there something I need to know?"

Scowling, you took a step closer to the curb. It hadn't escaped your notice that there were two girls sitting in the back of the vehicle.

"Arthur and I have been friends for a while. But before you start throwing accusations around, perhaps I should remind you that you told me you were going out with the BOYS tonight!"

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his expression darkening. "Get in the car. I'm taking you home."

"Uh, no. I don't think so."

"No?" Rick looked blisteringly furious now. "If you don't get in this car right now, we're fucking done."

"Fine. Whatever." You huffed. As much as you had no desire to argue again with Rick, you weren't willing to be ordered around like a child that had done something wrong.

You hadn't done anything wrong. Not technically. Was keeping a harmless secret wrong? Perhaps you'd known all along how Rick would react, so that's why you'd kept your friendship with Arthur from him.

Meanwhile Arthur's eyes had widened slightly as he watched you turn your back on your boyfriend. Could it be possible you'd chosen him over Rick the dick? He almost felt the need to pinch himself, just to ensure that this wasn't one of his delusional fantasies.

As the car revved it's engine noisily and skidded away, Arthur clutched at his throat; fighting to suppress the anxious laughter that he felt bubbling-up inside his chest.

Then all at once he felt your arm slide around him comfortingly, and his body caved against yours as you pulled him close.

"Ssshh, it's okay Arthur. Take no notice of that jackass. He's drunk."

A few errant chuckles escaped him, and it hurt to hold it in but by some miracle he succeeded. Though he knew that if he did have a full-blown anxiety attack here in public, you wouldn't have be ashamed or embarrassed. The way you were currently holding him, proved as much, which had undoubtedly helped stave-off the laughter.

"Come on," You said decisively, sticking your hand out to hail a taxi. "Let's go home."

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

"How did he know you?"

Arthur turned away slightly, cigarette smoke pouring from his nostrils.

"He recognised you from somewhere, Arthur." You pressed him, your gaze firmly fixed on the bright lights of the cityscape beneath you.

When you'd said let's go home, you'd actually ended up on the roof, as it seemed to be your place now. The place where you went to vent, to clear your head, to think.
To be with Arthur. It was yours and Arthur's place. The place you knew no one else would ever be.

From this vantage point, Gotham did indeed look spectacularly beautiful at night. The city spread below you, lights glittering everywhere just like stars dropping to earth. Huge and small buildings collided in a mixture of shadows and shapes, and the tangled twisting streets all intertwined together in a magnificent mess.

"I-I passed him in the hallway once or twice." Arthur's reply came at long last; his tone leaden.

"In the hallway? You mean on your floor?"

He nodded, a couple of windswept curls now grazing the side of his forehead. He looked troubled. Deeply troubled.

"Arthur....do you know why he was down there?"

Arthur sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping forwards. When he spoke his words were a barely audible mumble, as his chin sank into his chest.

"He-he was talking to Sophie."

"Sophie?" Your brows raised, "Who's Sophie?"

"She lives down the hall from me. I don't really know her."

"But Rick obviously does." You remarked bitterly, "Was he with her both times you saw him?"

Reluctantly he nodded.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't know who he was." He said, apologetically.

From where he was standing he could see tears spiking your eyelashes, and he immediately flicked his cigarette over the side and moved towards you.

"(y/n), I'm sorry. Maybe they're just friends. Like us."

That made you chuckle, even though it was humourless.

Could your friendship with Arthur still be described as platonic, even though he'd stirred-up all kinds of strange emotions and desires in you? Was he even aware that he had?

A single desolate tear slid down your cheek. You refused to accept that any friendship Rick had with a female could be innocent, you knew him too well. But could you really confront him over keeping secrets when you'd been keeping one yourself?

But at least you knew in all certainty that you hadn't cheated on Rick. And as unreasonable as it sounded, there was no way you could tolerate even comparing whatever "friendship" Rick may have with this Sophie, to yours and Arthur's. Your friendship with Arthur was so beyond compare.

"You know, the worst part is I don't even care any more." You scoffed, "That's so messed up. He's my boyfriend and it hurts to think he could be cheating, but..... I should care more than I do."

Arthur tried to keep his thoughts inside his head but they seeped out, like water through his fingers.

"H-he doesn't treat you right, (y/n). You'd probably care more if he did."

He closed the distance between you so he could gently brush your tears away, as you silently began to cry.

"Sorry. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have said that, (y/n). Ignore me."

You gave him a watery smile; inadvertently leaning in to his touch. "Ignore you? I'd never do that."

"Maybe.....maybe you should." His voice was rough, even to his own ears. "Rick's going to be mad at you because of me."

"Maybe I should. But I don't want to, Arthur....I-I like being with you too much."

Oh dear. It appeared he wasn't the only one struggling to keep his thoughts to himself.

Every atom of his being told him he should drop his hand, but he gently stroked your face, following your jawline with his thumb. Your skin was so soft. Your perfume so potent it made him feel almost dizzy with desire.

You moved slightly to look up at him, "Please don't feel bad. I don't want you to blame yourself for any of this. We've done nothing wrong. Tomorrow he'll wake up and act like nothing ever happened, he'll forget all about it."

Arthur's face was so close now you could practically taste the sweet alcohol on the warm heat of his breath. When had he gotten so close? You knew intuitively that you should move, but your fight was gone because his presence was so incredibly comforting. Not to mention the fact that you'd caught all kinds of feelings for him.

"I don't feel bad about that..." He stated, flatly. "I feel bad because.....I wanted to kiss you back there on the street.........and I want to kiss you even more right now."

"A-Arthur--!"

"(y/n) you're the loveliest person I've ever known, and you deserve better than Rick. I mean, I-I'm not saying I'm a better option, but you're too good for him. You're kind, and beautiful, and smart, and you've been so nice to me."

You exhaled a sharp gust of breath; your heart palpitating wildly beneath your breastbone.

You'd never felt so conflicted in all your life. Torn between the urge to run away before this got too out of hand, or pull him closer still.

"Oh, Arthur. You- you're so special. I don't want to hurt you, and I know it's wrong of me but....I don't think I would've stopped you......if you had kissed me."

"Don't say that. I might be a gentleman, but when you say things like that, when you look at me like that, only a fucking saint wouldn't kiss you..." He leaned you back against the wall with the weight of his body, ".......and I'm definitely no fucking saint."

He dipped his head, holding your face as if you were precious. Then he was kissing you; his fingers sliding into your hair, cupping your head in his hands.

He stole your breath away. His lips were trembling, then certain and hot, and you couldn't resist any longer. You kissed him back needingly; opening your mouth to let his exploratory tongue slide over yours as he made a low, animalistic noise in his throat.

You could feel the relief of him in every nerve-ending of your body, and the very blood in your veins. And it was so perfect. So achingly good and sexy, you had to cling to the lapels on his jacket; feeling yourself sway slightly.

All at once the world seemed so wide and free you felt as if you might topple right over the edge of the roof and you'd free fall gladly.

But then your senses returned.

This was wrong and you knew it might well be the only kiss you could ever share with him, so you found yourself cracking open your eyes slightly; wanting to remember the moment forever.

His eyes were closed, focused solely on the way his lips danced against yours. The dark sweep of his eyelashes grazed his high cheekbones; so utterly sexy and exquisitely beautiful. Your breathing was as shallow as his, and his body trembled perceptibly against yours.

For him, the kiss was even more than Arthur had ever imagined. And where you were concerned, he'd let his imagination run wild. Choirs sang in his head. Fireworks exploded in his mind, and he was so consumed with heat and longing it felt as if his blood had turned to molten lava.

Finally you broke apart at the same time, both of you gasping for air. It was over far too soon. You wanted more of him, so much more, but the timing was all wrong. Arthur also deserved better, and you couldn't drag him into your mess. He was already so fragile and vulnerable.

"W-we both know that shouldn't have happened..." You breathed, still hanging on to him as though your life depended on it. "I don't regret it, but we can't do this, Arthur. I'm no better than Rick if I do, and you're worth more than that too."

"Please....please (y/n) don't say this didn't mean anything." He pleaded, resting his forehead gently against yours.

And suddenly you were crying again. You were wracked with guilt, longing, and self loathing. Not to mention distress; knowing that nobody will ever kiss you like that again.

"I'm not saying that, love."

Arthur's heart lurched up into his throat, your term of endearment filling him with renewed hope.

You'd called him love. That had to mean something, it just had to.

"What I'm saying is....I've got to sort my life out. If Rick and I break up, it's going to be so complicated. So messy. His name is on the lease. I need time and I don't expect you to wait around for me."

Arthur said nothing, just nodded understandingly. His support ever unwavering. He wanted to tell you that he'd wait for you forever, even if it took an eternity you were worth the wait. But he remained silent, not wanting to appear too needy. Too pushy or desperate.

He could be patient when required. He was more than willing to wait until you were ready, that is if you'd ever be willing to give him a chance.
In the meantime he just didn't want you to push him away. That would utterly break his heart if he lost you.

"This doesn't have to change anything." He stated, matter-of-factly. "I still want to be there for you, (y/n). You're.......my best friend."

You screwed your eyes tightly shut in a bid to stop the tears, but they pushed their way passed your damp lashes; continuing to seep from you like sap from the cut on a tree.

"You're mine too, Arthur. And I'll always be here for you, no matter what else happens."

I want you, I want you. You wanted to yell, quite literally from the rooftops. Not just as a friend but more. Much more!

But you didn't. You had to give yourself time to heal, as well as come to terms with these new feelings you'd developed for Arthur.

If there was one thing your new life and responsibilities had taught you, it was to be sensible.