Summary: Arthur's been sick for a few days. You are more than happy to take care of him. Fluffy and simple. This is softer than soft Arthur. Contains nudity.Word count: 5,706It was winter in Gotham, the average weather on the daily reaching the negatives whenever it snowed outside. And did it ever show with the Fleck family, one that consisted of a thin man and his devoted partner.Arthur was one his sixth episode of the Murray show, having about sixteen tapes total built up on the shelf in front of the television. "There's even more in the closet," he had reassured you when you asked him what he planned to do once he had gotten through all of those. And indeed he did, which you discovered when you opened the closet and found an entire collection of thirty some Live! With Murray Franklin tapes stacked on top of each other behind the old, moth eaten clothes and various products. You had shook your head lovingly, feeling a little impressed at how dedicated this man was to that show. The man in question was currently buried underneath about ten different thick wool blankets. He was so thin that one almost wouldn't be able to tell if there was even anyone buried under there at all; the only thing that gave his presence away was a little hint of curly brown hair and a wrinkled forehead poking itself out from the pillow, with the slightest hint of sea green eyes. The occasional sniff and sneeze accompanied his presence, but other that that, the man was undetectable.Thank god you were working your own job. The first day Arthur had gotten sick- approximately three days ago-he had refused to call in sick, pushing himself out the door determinedly. You had rushed up and pulled his back in, and, after some bargaining and some reasoning, you had convinced Arthur to take care of himself and stay home.Unfortunately, his cold had only gotten worse over the past couple of days, and you came over every night from work exhausted, but you were more worried about Arthur than you ever were tired. You would come home to a knocked out Arthur buried in the sheets, his face blotchy and red, with tissues scattered all around the master bed. Your routine became picking up the tissues, making some soup-chicken and rice was his favorite-and then gently waking him up with the caressing of your hand. Arthur's heavily hooded eyes would gradually open in the most sleepy manner, temporarily dazed and confused. Then he would roll his face over and as recognition flooded his eyes, the most pure and happy love flooding them. Tonight was much of the same."You're home," Arthur mumbled happily, saying it in such a way that he was almost surprised, as if even after all the months of dating he was still convinced that you would up and leave without a word. "Mmhm," you cooed gently and pressed your lips against his red nose. You giggled as Arthur melted even further into the pillows at your touch, his face crinkly and beaming. "How do you feel?" Arthur's thin shoulders shrugged; the tip of them was poking out of the heavy sheets. "Dunno." He sniffed. He looked like a vulnerable little boy in this state; hair unwashed, tired but rested face smoothed out, glassy eyes, and baggy clothes. "Still sick." He hadn't been up in about five hours; his body didn't even feel real right now. "Did you eat today?" you asked softly. You already knew the answer; of course he hadn't. You had already figured out that once his Murray shows were over, he simply fell asleep for the rest of the afternoon until you came home. Arthur shook his head. "Please don't be mad." His voice was so soft and fragile, both from the coughing and the soreness of his voice, and from how much he just wanted to please you, even though you had never gotten angry at him before. You were his first healthy relationship, ever, and he was mortified of screwing it up."Baby, I'm not mad." You continued to stroke his unwashed, greasy curls out of his face. "I made some soup. Do you want me to bring it to you?"Arthur nodded shyly. "Yes, ma'am." You smiled at how he was still so unnecessarily polite around his own girlfriend, but you knew it was mostly just from his anxiety of never wanting to say 'the wrong thing'. You hoped one day he would be comfortable enough to talk to you like you were his-which you were.You went into the kitchen and took out a bowl and a spoon, pouring the soup into it. You then took it out and into the bedroom, getting the tray from the corner of the room and placed it in front of Arthur."Here, baby," you said gently. Arthur had managed to pull himself into a slight sitting position, messy and unwashed curls still in his face. He wrinkled his red nose as he stared at the soup, seeming a bit out of it."What's wrong?" you asked gently. Tears were forming in Arthur's eyes. "You remembered that chicken and rice is my favorite," Arthur mumbled shyly, and one tear fell down his face as he spoke the words. He rolled his eyes at himself, embarrassed.Your heart completely melted, and you were convinced it would also give out at how much you loved him. He was tragically easy to please. "Sweetheart, of course I remembered." You leaned forward and gently wiped away one of his tears, then kissed the damp area it left on his cheek softly, sucking it with a tender ease, making Arthur let out a little moan at how gentle your touches were. "You're so important to me, baby." You nuzzled against his nose to prove your point, which Arthur returned with a cough and a hum of contentment."Can you help me eat?" Arthur asked. Even with his lips so close to yours, you barely heard his whispered, shy request. You pulled away and gazed at him, loving flooding over you. He blushed at his request when you didn't respond right away, then stuttered out, "Y-you don't have to if you don't want, I just...my wrists hurt," he finished lamely."Of course I will, sweetheart," you said gently. You knew the wrists hurting was just an excuse, so well did you know your Arthur even after only a few months. You had come to learn that Arthur had a weakness for being taken care of; so neglected were certain parts of his character and childhood that anything, absolutely anything that showed him that those parts of him could be redeemed and were worthy of love was enough to drive him over the edge with a lovesick infatuation. He was the softest of essences, softer than even the gentlest touch of a butterfly's melancholic wing, delicate and beautiful, yet wrapped in a horribly damage that needed to be healed.You took the spoon and brought it to his mouth, and he wrapped his mouth around it happily, a smile framing the corners of his mouth as his eyes crinkled up in a lovesick smile. Your own lovesick infatuation smile graced your lips as you gazed at him longingly, feeling the warmth of the tenderness you felt for the incomprehensibly hurt man overtaking your core. Sometimes you felt you could cry simply at the sight of him, by simply just by spending time with him; your soul overflowed with love that much for him. "Alright," you murmured after the spoon graced the last of the soup in the bowl. You looked at his dirty curls sitting on his face, not having been washed for several days. "How about a quick bath?" You stroked his hands in yours. "Are you up for it?"Arthur shrugged in his oversized sweater. "Yeah, I guess can try." He sniffed again, his nose running. "Ok. I'm going to lift you up out of bed. Can you walk?"Arthur nodded, almost seemingly excited now. He probably hadn't left the bed all day, and you knew how much he loved being nurtured and taken care of by you in any way you were willing to give him.You pressed a kiss to his temple, "I'm going to start the bath, try to be ready to walk over when I come back in, okay?"Arthur nodded. "Oki."You smiled, sharing a tender look before you went to begin the bath. You started the water up, feeling the heat, warm water, and fog sweeping into the air of the small and cozy bathroom. Many memories of you two bathing together where in here; more often than not did you bathe together rather than alone. You watched as the warm, soapy water filled the tube, waiting until it was steaming, then swept your hand through it, testing to make sure that it was just the right amount of steamy and soapy. When it was confirmed to be just right for a sickly body, you made your way back to the bedroom. Arthur had managed to get his sick body out from under the covers and was sitting on the edge of the bed, wearing nothing but baggy white underwear and a baggy sweater top, thin legs sticking out.You helped guide him into the bathroom, and then helped him remove his sweater, pulling it over his head; he made a face of exaggerated drama as you did so, making you giggle. You were glad he was feeling well enough to be playful. You threw it to the side and took off his underwear, noticing how hard his cock was; even when the both of you were simply together did he often get turned on by you. You kissed the tip of his penis as you pulled his underwear down, and Arthur giggled and blushed, stroking his hands through your hair and massaging your scalp while you were kneeling in front of him. You then lifted yourself back up, and pecked him on the lips tenderly. Arthur's lips remained unresponsive; however; instead he looked at you with a bit of shock and anger. "Y/N!" he whined. "You can't kiss me when I'm sick! You'll get sick too." You rolled your eyes softly; you had hardly been able to kiss him since he had been sick. He insisted that once you started kissing him, he wouldn't be able to stop returning them, and then you would be sick too. But you hardly cared, and you told him as much; you needed his soft, warm and gentle kisses as much as he did. "Let's just get into the bath," you offered gently, and Arthur, with the slightest smile on his face, not being able to stay mad at you, climbed in. He did, after all, enjoy your kisses immensely. His cold, thin and frail body met the warm and soapy water with a sigh escaping from his lips; despite how boyish he looked before, he now took on an entirety different air as you swept his hair back into slick, straight strands and saw the gruff manliness of his face, the sharp, high cheekbones, his permanently heavy and pained eyes being hooded over with his worn eyelids that were adorned with his long black eyelashes, the strength underneath his jaw as it clenched, the way his wiry muscles relaxed and contracted and responded to the water. Suddenly he looked like a tragically worn man, beaten down by the hardships of life. Such was the complexity of your Arthur. You continued to stroke his hair back, purposely using slow and gentle movements to do so. Arthur's face muscles entirely relaxed, his skin and muscles easing into the caresses of the warm water, and his entire being seemed to let our a breath of relief. "This feels really good, Y/N," Arthur mumbled in a raspy voice, the previous scratchiness having disappeared. "Thank you for doing this for me." You pressed your lips to the top of his slicked back hair, to which Arthur made an adorable noise to signal his contentment. "There's nothing else I'd rather do, darling."A smile tugged on each end of Arthur's lips, for once in his life looking untroubled by the tears in his soul. He sunk further into the steamy bath water until only his shoulders and his head were out of the water, the rest of him submerged.These were one of the purer moments that had taken place in your relationship; they had become increasingly more rare with how much you both had to work. You felt the desire to be as close to him as possible, wanting to feel his soft, gentle skin against yours, as benevolent as the the soul that bore it. "I'm going to join you, is that ok, baby?" you asked gently. Arthur only let a small nod and smiled in response, eyes still closed in a serene smile. "You can always join me, darling, no matter where I am," Arthur mumbled softly, his voice becoming increasingly sleepier, as if he were falling asleep, becoming more lost in his thoughts in regards how heavenly he felt with your touches taking care of him. In his state, he had forgotten his anxiety about calling you pet names, and his natural affections for you leaked out of him like air left his lungs. So naturally did it come to him to love you when his guard was down. You felt a warm glow and celebratory excitement as you took off your clothes as quietly and as gently as possible, not wanting to disturb him out of his trance. You let your clothes fall to the floor, a ghostly whisper falling with them as they did so. You felt yourself shiver with anticipation and you invited your body into the warm water, taking a place behind Arthur. You wrapped your legs around his body, sighing contently as you pressed your lips against the nape of his neck and soft wet baby hairs. You started stroking the back of his muscles, pressing kisses to the back of his head as you did so, and Arthur let out the most content of hums as he leaned his head into the curve of your shoulder. You let your hands explore down his torso and his legs, letting your hands caress gentle circles through the soapy and warm liquid."That feels really good," Arthur moaned helplessly as he leaned his head further into your neck. You smiled as your pressed your lips against his cheek, and he beamed a peaceful smile as you did so. You felt yourself falling into your own trance as you continued to stroke his skin, up and down, up and down. Many of the interactions you had naked often were pure and strictly soft and gentle, full of consideration and care and love; there were many time such as tonight when being naked together had noting to do with sex, but simply having skin upon skin, two tired and worn souls breathing a sigh of relief as they felt the touch of the other, so relieved to finally find someone who understood and saw the other, every little unseen detail, every quirky thought that many others wouldn't connect with. At each other's touches did both flames and a heavenly comfort arise, an indescribable sensation of relief sweeping from one fingertip to the skin of the other.Arthur looked over to you and saw the lost look in your eyes. You were still circling his thigh with your thumbs, the sensation of the warm water only adding to to the therapy of his tired bones.Arthur took his hand and made a puppet with it, using a silly, high pitched voice as he did so. "What's wrong?" He squeaked cartoonishly, the puppet 'biting' your nose after he finished speaking. You smiled, taken out a bit from your haze. You looked into his eyes and smiled gently, starting to find your own sleepiness within the heaven you had created with this man."'I just love you so much," you whispered into the foggy air. You took his hand puppet and kissed the top of his fingers, humming happily as you did so. Arthur looked at you with a softness in his eyes, looking like a combination of a handsome and wise man but also a lost, lovestruck boy. "I thought that was what you were thinking," Arthur muttered thoughtfully in a tranquil voice. This was one of the few times in his life were he was happy; truly happy and content, the feeling almost alien, but in the most welcome fashion; it made it that much richer to know how rare it was. You smiled and pressed your lips to his, ever so softly. You then took your hands and trailed them up his skin and to his neck, pressing your fingertips into the neck and shoulder bones. Arthur moaned and leaned into how you were unraveling him, not just physically, but mentally and emotionally as well, like the complex, layered and never ending, surprisingly romantic ribbon that he was. Your heart ached as you saw the bruises on his back that were black, blue, and brown; there were far more on him than you ever could have bared to see on the man you loved more than life. He didn't wince, however, when you pressed your fingers against them ever so gently; you had figured out long ago how to apply just the right amount of pressure so that you could stimulate the nerves in his skin without pushing the damaged skin further.You wished you could do anything to keep him from getting beat up so often, but there was really nothing you could do. Your heart ached at how you couldn't protect him from everything. Sometimes, it felt like you couldn't protect him from anything. Your heart bleed as you thought about how fear gripped you every time he set out from the day, wondering if today would be the last day you would ever see him come home. In some ways, you had a guilty pleasure with having him sick and locked up in the apartment all day; it meant he was safe and protected, which is all you ever wanted to do for him, though that was more for yourself than for Arthur.You sighed as you finished your massage down his back. Every muscle in Arthur's body was relaxed now, and he seemed to be fighting sleep. The harsh red blots on his face had faded in something a little less aggressive; now it was just simple little shy spots of light velvet adoring his face. His breathing was less congested ,the water and fog having cleared up his nose and lungs a bit."Baby, it's time to get out, ok?" you said gently, stroking his wet curls as you spoke to him. He didn't open his eyes, but nodded slowly. You had cleared his lungs and his nose, now you needed to get him out before you passed out in the bathe water."That you for this, Y/N," he muttered softly. "I feel so much better." You kissed the side of his cheek gently. "Anything for you, my love." Arthur let the tenderest of smiles grace his wrinkled face. You gently lifted yourself up, which naturally forced Arthur's body to be lifted up as well, you being under him. You stepped out of the warm water and grabbed a towel, and then reached your hand out for Arthur to take. He placed his hand in yours, ever grateful to have you helping him. He even had the energy to playfully kiss your hand as you lifted him out of the tub. "Thank you," he said in his sickly raspy voice. You brought his hand to your lips and kissed it gently in turn. Arthur let out a grunt of laughter as you wrapped the towel around his thin, dripping form, finding humor in the most mundane things. You got another towel and wrapped it around his dripping wet hair, and Arthur made sure it was held firmly around his head before he let you guide him out to the living room.You sat him down by the chair that was in front of the window in the living room. You two had started a routine of sorts of sitting together and quietly muttering about your day after a bath. Since Arthur had been so sick, it had been a minute since you two had had this precious and pure time together. As you grabbed your own chair and sat next to him, you felt a click of utter contentment in your soul as you gazed at Arthur, more fascinated by him than you were of the view. Since you two lived up so high, it did make for a rather pretty sight; not so much the worn buildings that faced you, but more so the lights of the stores and the view of the people rushing by, a stark contrast to your relaxed state as you sat and watched them, deepening your appreciation of the peace made for this quiet time of meditation between you two. Even better, if you leaned your head up far enough, you could see the slightest glimpse of stars in the sky, peeking out even through the pollution of Gotham. They had always reminded you of how you saw Arthur. They were flickering, fading in and out as the clouds of pollution washed over them now and then, but always did they come back to light. Arthur was much the same; even when he regressed into his illness, his darkness that plagued him, the evil of the world gripping at his natural tenderness, he always returned to the gentle and tender man he was meant to be. Always. The man in question was currently leaning his skinny elbow against the window still, watching with a childlike fascination as he watched people go by and the stars reflect in his eyes.The city lights reflecting in his already endless depths made you breathless, mirroring the purity of his soul, and the beauty of his soul in turn making Gotham seem beautiful, something you thought was impossible until you met Arthur. It was these thoughts that prevented you from being able to resist touching him, and you leaned your hand forward and stroked his knees ever so gently. Arthur slowly turned his face towards you and let out one of his gradual, slow smiles as he looked into your soul; he was having conversations with you without even saying a word. You felt your breath hitch in your throat as you thought about how much you loved him, overcoming you like a wave. You never knew until him that there could be such a thing as loving someone so much that it physically hurt, and yet, it was the best kind of hurt, the kind that reminded you that you were real and alive, that there was more to life than just the superficial selfish, self serving nothings of the day, that there were things in this life that, despite how hard it was sometimes, were really, truly and deeply worth living for. That there were things bigger in this life than your needs. It was the sweetest of epiphanies. The lights that danced in his eyes made you believe that there was magic in the city of Gotham after all: such was the magical effect of being around your Arthur. The world had truly missed out on shunning him out; he really was meant to bring joy to those around him as he believed about himself. If only people let him in, if only they weren't so condemning about their judgements, they would be blessed tenfold with that this man had to give. His heart would burst and overflow with love, if given the opportunity. The night air developed a sense of utter peace and harmony, just the right amount of fresh air and chill gracing and lining the both of your bodes like a gentle caress. It brought a smell of paradise to the room, smelling of fresh air and the galaxies of the universe, a hint of it sweeping into the apartment that had become a symbol of the love you shared. You two began to talk quietly to each other, you about your day and him about his shows, creativity, and thoughts, his worries about going back to work. Every simple utterance breathed life into your body; simply being around him sent shoots of warmth and infatuation through your core, so in love with him you were. Simply being around him recharged your tired body in a way nothing and no one else could, making your time together all the more precious.After your conversation did down a bit, and was instead leading into soft kisses-on the skin, since Arthur still being stubborn about the whole lip thing-in between intervals of peaceful and natural quiet, did you start thinking about taking him to bed. It was around eleven, and you had to be up by eight tomorrow. As addicted as you were to your time with Arthur-you were convinced that time with him would give you more energy than sleep-reason came over you and told you to go to bed. Arthur needed rest anyway, real rest, the kind of rest where nightfall would grace his gentle dreams in a therapedic combination of darkness and rest. Day rest, especially with the Murray show blaring on and off, wasn't the same."Time for bed," you muttered simply after about five minutes of one of those quiet intervals. You lips had been in the middle of kissing his ribs as his towel had fallen off of him. Arthur grunted in agreement, his eyes still looking outward in a twinkling way. You were truly convinced that those mysterious green poems, more art were they than eyes, reflected and held the entirely of the world in them, that they would burst and overcome the world with their good if given the chance. Arthur nodded his ok, but then grabbed your hand as you stood up. "Can I have a cigarette?" he asked, eyes glinting guilty but begging nonetheless, shameless in their intensity on their borderline natural dependency on them. You smiled, and nodded. "Just make it quick." You had cut him off from cigarettes since he had been sick; Arthur would have fought and protested you back then, had he not been too sick to even leave the bed."Can you grab it for me?" he requested softly. He was never bossy, never made you feel used. He just adored you caring for him, and he liked to think that you adored doing so. He was, of course, correct; taking care of him fulfilled you with a purpose greater than yourself, and your love for him made it a natural tendency for you to do so anyway.You nodded and went to grab the pack by the bed side table. You went back over and brought it to to him, your hands graceful against his sickly, trembling form as you brought it to his lips. He closed his eyes blissfully as he took a drag of it into his mouth, placing his hand over yours and taking the grip of the cigarette as a smile graced the tip of his smile. "Thank you, love," he muttered softly as he fell into a foggy, relaxed haze. "You take such good care of me."Your heart soared; this was the second time tonight Arthur felt confident enough to call you by a pet name, despite you always reassuring him that you wanted him to, that it reminded you that he loved you just as you loved him. You were his, whether you believed it or not.As he smoked his cigarette and continued to gaze out the window, lost in his eccentric and enigmatic thoughts, you made the bed for you both. You were so happy Arthur could now lie in the master bed for his tired limbs now that you shared an apartment together; the couch was decent enough, but only for sitting for an hour or two before your bones became sore. You couldn't imagine how Arthur had managed to sleep there for so long. As you fluffed his pillow, so soft and fluffy was it, you smiled inwardly at how well Arthur was being taken cared of these days. In turn, he was taking care of you as well; he made sense of who you are. Although you had a job, a purpose, you had always felt very unfulfilled and empty. Ever since Arthur had come into your life, that had all gone away. Loving him, knowing him, and taking care of him brought a newfound purpose to your being that you could have never even imagined. You always felt like you were floating on a cloud, like you had entered a different realm of reality. You went back into the living room and saw Arthur still gazing out the window, thin elbow rested on the panel, skinny frame twisted like a beautiful composition of eccentric poetry. His journal was rested in his lap now; he seemed to be in mid thought as he held his pen in one hand. More jokes, probably. "Time for bed, comedy man," you whispered as you came up behind him. Arthur looked over at you and smiled at you softly. You walked over and wrapped your arms around his shoulders , looking over at his journal with curiosity; he didn't mind; he knew he could trust you with his thoughts. The words were written in big, scrawled and shaky letters:I feel like a bordenBut she mkes me fel liek I am almst wrocth worth it. You hummed in sympathy, rubbing his shoulders comfortingly. You knew he felt this way already, but seeing it written down gave you a new onslaught of bittersweet feelings. You leaned down and nippled his ear gently, then whispered, "you're the most easy thing to love in my life, Arthur."Arthur looked up at you, naive pools wanting desperately to believe you. "Really?"You hummed in response, leaning down to press your lips against his-only for him to dodge you. "Sick," Arthur reminded you. You sighed in defeat. You were craving proper touches with him it drove you mad. In a lot of ways your relationship was pain, but the love you had for him brightened up the weight under the heavy burdens of of the world. With the right person, the hardships only seem like worthwhile struggles, with a payoff greater than could be imagined. "Loving you is easy. Natural, no nerves," you said softly as you brushed against his cheek. Arthur said nothing, simply taking it in.You guided him to bed and tucked him in, wiping his hair out of his face. You caress his hair gently while you lied on top of him, much like a mother tucking her son to bed."You promise you'll take at least one extra day off tomorrow?" you asked gently. Arthur nodded boyishly. "I promise."You smiled, then leaned forward and kissed his nose gently. "That's my baby."Arthur beamed into the kiss, and then- "Can I have my bear?" Your eyebrows furrowed in surprise. "The one I got you for Christmas?"Arthur nodded eagerly."You haven't asked for that thing in months," you said warmly. You weren't judging, just surprised; he had slept with it every night for about a month, and then had left it on the bookshelf for display. You had a feeling that he had needed that childlike comfort for awhile after buying it, and then had "outgrown" it in a sense, as if the healing process in that part of his mind was over. Tonight must be an exception."I miss him," Arthur mumbled sleepily, growing drowsy as his body adjusted to the warmth of the blankets. You went over and took it off the shelf, then came back and placed it in his arms. Arthur nuzzled into it, seemingly as happy and as cozy as could be. Taking in how adorable he was, you couldn't resist him any longer; you leaned forward and dared to press your lips against his, one last attempt before you both went to bed. Arthur flew the bear in front of his face in defense, making your lips touch only artificial fur instead of Arthur's addictively wonderful lips. You groaned.You needed a new tactic, so you settled for tickling his sides. He instantly melted into a puddle of thrashing helplessness, and you bounced on top of him and peppered his temporarily vulnerable face in kisses, finally scoring a few against his lips as he was melted into a hot and giggling mess."Cheater!" Arthur accused you through helpless giggles, face redder than lava, but this time rather than sickness, it was with happiness. You laughed loudly and tried one last time for a deep kiss, the one you had been craving all day. To your joy, Arthur finally gave in and allowed your lips to sink into his in the most deep and romantic fashion, allowing lips to sink into lips until there was nothing but love and hot breath. Finally, after what felt like minutes, you pulled away with a relieved gasp, the warmth of the most tenderest of touches flooding the both of you. "You're gonna get sick, baby," Arthur grumbled as he readjusted his formerly cozy state with the bear before you had mercilessly attacked him. You felt your heart lurch excitedly. Baby.You settled in the space beside him, stroking his face as soon as you were lying down next to him. "You're worth everything and more, darling." Despite Arthur's words, you could tell the kiss had done as much for him as it did for you; there was a new energized warmth about his eyes as he gazed into yours. You took his fingers and delicately kissed every tip, each one a reminder how delicate you both were-but so strong under each others' touches and company.Arthur smiled adoringly as he looked across at you, knowing that you and you alone could make even sick days a certain kind of irreplaceable magic.
YOU ARE READING
Arthur Fleck Archive, 2019
FanfictionA series of romantic one-shots concerning Arthur Fleck.
