Where Every Scroll is a New Adventure
Prompt: “You’ve been drinking tonight, haven’t you?”
Warnings: Cursing, drinking.
Pairing: Arthur Fleck/Reader
A/N: I wrote this for the #arthurfleckjokerwritingchallenge hosted by @arthurfleckjoker2019, I thought it was a cute fluffy one-shot and I hope you all enjoy!
***
You have a history of getting a little out of hand when you drank. Nothing crazy like getting into fights at the bar or parading naked through the streets, but you were a little… enthusiastic about things. Like when your neighbors brought over peach cobbler to welcome you to the neighborhood you cried and called them beautiful and told them you loved them.
And when you met Arthur, you were a little more than tipsy. You were at a comedy club with your friends and sat down at the only table available, which was his. After a few more dirty martinis you were chatting up a storm, asking him every question you could think of.
When the show ended you gave him his number and that started a beautiful friendship, and you tried not to drink around him after that.
You and Arthur had a very interesting friendship. It was quite obvious he had a little crush on you, you could tell because of the way he looked at you. He snuck glances at you when he thought you didn’t notice, with this look in his eyes. Like he was exactly where he was supposed to be.
It would be far from the truth to say you didn’t feel the same way. Maybe not in the way he was so deeply enthralled by you, but you did think of him as more than a friend. How could you not? He was so kind, so sweet, he would do anything for you and you knew it.
Arthur never had a friend. Sure, he had ‘friends’, but none of them were in it selflessly. At work, they’d call him their friend, but only to butter him up for favors. Other people that he saw often in his life were in no way considered his friends. His social worker, the woman at the pharmacy who would give him his prescriptions, the manager of his apartment, they were all just side characters in his own sad novel.
But you. He adored you. You were his only true friend. The only person to help him when he needed help, the only one to check up on him out of the blue and make sure he was okay, the only one that didn’t get uncomfortable when he laughed.
So, you tried not to ruin it with your drinking.
One night though, your neighbors brought over a bottle of vodka, assuming from their first meeting with you that you enjoyed alcohol. You very much loved alcohol, you loved to drink, but hard drinks like vodka were one of the worst things you could consume. You always got lonely and invited people over, and if you were with people you became way too flirty.
It just so happened, you were alone on a Friday night and opened the bottle. The cork popped open and you made yourself a Cape Cod, your favorite mixed drink. Cranberry juice and vodka, with a lime on the edge.
After your first two drinks, you reached the lonely stage and called up Arthur.
It took a few rings, but he picked up.
“Hello?” He answered, sounding as if he didn’t expect a call. You looked at your watch and realized it was nine P.M. You hoped you didn’t wake him or his mother.
“Hi, Arthur. It’s (Y/N).” You smiled into the receiver, laying back against your couch while you took a sip of your drink. It was smooth, sweet, with a little surprising tang.
“Oh, (Y/N).” His tone brightened and you felt your heart warm at the change in his voice. “How are you, how was work?”
“Work was fine, boring, as usual.” You found yourself twirling the phone cord around your finger, grinning like you were a high-school girl talking to her boyfriend late at night. “How was your day?”
“Uh, fine. It was fine.”
“Are you busy? Or anything?”
“Uhm, no. No, I’m not busy. Why, is something wrong?” The sudden concern in his voice was evident, new nervous thoughts running through his head.
“No, not at all. I was wondering if you uh, if you weren’t busy maybe you could come over?” Your mind raced to think of an excuse, normally when you asked him over at night it was for dinner or if you had a funny story about your day. But your day was uneventful and you had eaten dinner in town. You didn’t even have left-overs to offer.
“Sure!” He said before you could lie your way out of awkwardness. “My mother, she just went to bed. So sure, I can come over.”
“Okay!” You breathed out a shaky laugh, taking another sip of your drink in an attempt to calm yourself down. “Okay, well, I’ll see you soon!”
The two of you hung up and you went to freshen up your makeup and pour yourself another drink. He took a while to get to your place since he walked, and you would have offered to pick him up if you hadn’t been drinking.
Arthur rang your doorbell shortly after you prettied yourself up and drank two more cocktails.
“Arthur, hi!” You beamed as you opened the door, welcoming him into your house.
“Hey.” He smiled sheepishly and walked past you, taking his coat off and hanging it by the door. “I saw a cat on the way over.”
“Aw, a kitty?” You swooned over the thought and closed the door behind him.
He raised a brow at your strange dreamy attitude but said nothing about it, only nodding. “Yeah, a brown cat. Looked old.”
You led him to your living room and quickly picked up your empty glass, not wanting him to know you were drunk. In your state of oblivion you had no idea that it was painfully obvious how drunk you were. Not to mention the sweet smell on your breath and the way the cranberry juice had stained your lips. He gave you the benefit of the doubt though, since you weren’t acting nearly as out of control as the night he met you.
“So, how was your day?” You drew out your words, which of course, didn’t go by Arthur unnoticed.
“You already asked me that. On the phone.” He was amused by the way you were acting. The way you slurred your speech and stumbled around the room was funny to him, you acted much different than his coworkers when they drank. Randall invited him out once to drink with them. Accepting his invitation was a decision he regretted almost immediately.
You were much nicer, though, much more warm and comfortable.
“Oh, right.” Your laughter, oh how he could melt just listening to it. “Well, do you wanna watch a movie? Halloween is coming on soon.”
Arthur was a bit confused as to why he was there, every time he had come over to your house, it was for a specific reason. No one had ever invited Arthur over to just ‘hang out’. It would be a lie to say he wasn’t happy, though, it meant you enjoyed his company enough to have him over for no other reason than to just be with him.
“Yeah, sure.” He shrugged, not even trying to keep the bashful smile from his face.
You sat close to him on the couch, maybe too close to him, judging by how stiff he sat. Every time your arm would accidentally brush against his, he would tense up for a few seconds. It was adorable. And the fact that you were well past drunk only made him more appealing to you.
“Ease up, Arthur.” You said after a while of him doing this over and over. “It’s just me.”
The way you spoke only made him more nervous. He swallowed hard and opened his mouth to say something, but his throat felt far too dry to speak. He barely managed to croak out an ‘I’ before he choked on his own words.
Did you truly make his that nervous so easily? You could have toyed with him a bit, been cruel and made it worse for him, but you couldn’t bare do something like that, not when you were in the state you were in.
You didn’t see your next action as malicious. Really, you didn’t think much of it at all. You only wanted to be closer to him. But if your goal had been to relax Arthur, you had done the complete opposite. You leaned in closer to him, resting your head in the crook of his neck. He smelt so good, aside from the smell of old cigarettes. You could barely put up with that.
Arthur fucking froze.
“What cologne do you wear?” You asked, turning your head so you could smell him better. Doing so, your nose brushed against his earlobe, sending sinful chills down his spine. He had no fucking idea what cologne he used. It was the same bottle his mother had bought him for Christmas all those years ago.
“It smells so good.” You continued when he didn’t answer, only nuzzling your face further in his neck.
He had no idea what to say. He was a thousand miles beyond nervous, his heart was slamming 200bpm against his chest, and his right leg bounced uncontrollably. He’d never felt his heart beat like that before. He imagined this was what cocaine felt like.
Apparently, leaning your head on his shoulder wasn’t close enough for you, so you looped your arms around his waist and curled into his form.
Okay, it was time for Arthur to start asking questions. “(Y/N),” His voice trembled as he spoke. “What are you doing?”
What were you doing? Wasn’t it obvious? “Do you not like it?” You asked, ready to move if he so wished, but for the moment you remained where you were.
He answered immediately, tripping over his own words. “No! I mean, I like it just fine, I just, don’t know why you’re… being like this with me.”
“Uhm,” You laughed, looking up at him. “Because I like you. And I want to.”
His heart jumped to his throat. “What did you just say?”
“I said… what did I say?” You giggled, trying to play with him a little. You’d always been a playful drunk.
But Arthur was having none of it. “(Y/N), please,”
The tone of his voice was enough to make you understand the seriousness of the situation for him. “Okay, I’m sorry.” Leaning up so you could look him in the eyes, you smiled. “I said I liked you.”
If you could burn one image into your head for the rest of your life, it would have been the look on his face when you said those words. His features went slack, all but his lips, they twitched into a smile of disbelief. Seeing him go through a range of emotions at once was an experience all on its own.
“Wait,” Suddenly, he didn’t look so happy anymore. “You’ve been drinking tonight, haven’t you?” He furrowed his brows, glancing down at your cranberry reddened lips.
“A little.” You admitted, biting your bottom lip. “But, a drunk mind speaks a sober heart.”
His eyes scanned over your face, searching for anything he could use to help him understand what the fuck was going on. You were drunk, he had known that since he walked in your house. So what did that mean? Were you lying? Was it the alcohol talking?
“Arthur, you’re thinking too much.” You sighed and reached up to brush a stray brown curl from his face. “It’s not hard to believe, is it? I mean, I invite you over for dinner all the time, we go out together every weekend-”
Arthur leaned forward, his heart racing, and kissed you.
You hadn’t expected him to be so bold. You kissed back, boy, did you kiss back. You ran your fingers through his soft hair and sighed, thankful he had made the next move.
When you pulled back from his lips he was silent for a moment, only to lick his bottom lip and chuckle. “You taste sweet.” Before he even realized what he was saying he had said it. For a split second he panicked, but when you giggled and leaned in to kiss him again his fear subsided.
“I’m actually really glad I’ve been drinking.” You admitted once the second kiss was broken. Arthur listened intently as you sat back in the couch, resuming your position of cuddling him. “I don’t think I would have told you that if I was sober.”
Arthur smiled to himself as he felt you relax against him. Yeah, well, in that case, he was really glad too.