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Drabble: At the Movies (Joker 2019)

AN: I’m a firm believer that Arthur as Joker, if he existed, would go to the cinema to watch how others would respond to his story. This is one of those possible moments of him attending his own screening. I had planned it to be longer and more smutty, but alas, my arms won’t let me. So here’s a small thing. And as I spotted @ajokeformur-ray posting she’d be at the cinema tonight. This one’s for you: “At the Movies”

You’ve seen Joker before, more than once. But tonight you followed the advice you’d read on Tumblr and decided to go once more.

Only this time you’d be alone.

No friends to sit next to you and distract you. Just you and the screen.

And Joaquin Phoenix in his amazing role.

You’d chuckled when you’d read comments about women going to watch the film late at night, on their own, who had dared to brought a vibrator along with them. You weren’t sure if it had been boasting or truth, but the thought had thrilled you. Yet, you weren’t the type to brave that sort of stuff, even if you had entertained the idea.

The theatre was almost deserted. Apart from a couple of two, a group of giggling girls and an elderly couple, there was just you. But you had arrived early and had chosen a spot in the middle, allowing you a great view. You did not sit at the front row because you wanted some privacy. But you had not sat down in one of the back few rows either. Instead, you’d gone straight for the middle.

The lights dimmed, the film started. A pleasant feeling crawled up deep inside of you; a feeling that made you feel warm on the inside.

The first few scenes had already passed when you noticed an odd scent. A bit like smoke? You shrugged it off and kept watching, your eyes glued to the screen.

No one was going to take your attention off your secret fictional crush. No one. Not even a fire.

--

You’re half-way in when you have the feeling you’re being watched. It’s such a strong feeling that you can’t ignore it. And so you turn to look over your shoulder.

There’s one of the couples, cuddling together but their eyes are stillfirmly glued to the screen. A bit behind them you see another couple.

Ew, you did not want to see that. However it does explain why they went to sit in the last row. Apparently, Joaquin got a lot of people worked up with his performance.

You looked in front of you again. The elderly couple? Nope, they were watching the film. The giggling girls? They’re still front row, chewing popcorn audibly. Then who?

You turned once more, subtly this time.

Your heart skipped a beat.

There, in the dark, a few seats behind you, was the tall figure of a man. The film’s reflection lit his frame, bathing him in the colours of the screen.

Despite the mixture of colours distorting the view you had of him, you could see the white-painted face with the red-coloured smile.

His eyes were on you. Fixed solely on you.

You reached with your hand for your heart and tried to slow your suddenly rapid breathing. Your eyes sought left and right but eventually rested upon him again. He was still staring, smirking. A red flickering shortly showed at the height of the arm of the chair. Was he smoking? Seriously? That wasn’t even allowed. It did however explain the foul smell you had noticed earlier on.

You turned fully to him now, as far as your chair would allow you and scowled. Was he grinning even wider? Did he find any of this funny?

This evening had gotten a little too weird a little too fast. There’s a man sitting here, watching you, smoking, dressed like Arthur Fleck. And the horrible truth of it is, he looks pretty much the same as far as you can tell with only the flickering dim light coming from the screen.

“Could you perhaps not smoke?” You asked, surprised at your own bluntness.

Instead of a proper reply, the man just chuckled and you rolled your eyes.

Great, not only does he appear to be dressed the part, he also knows how to act it.

Slowly, you rose from your chair. Careful not to be hindering the sight of the couples, you strode over to the man in the clown’s suit until you were at his row, then slid in between the chairs until you stood next to him. Looking down upon him, you narrowed your eyes. As far as you could tell, he did look remarkably like-

“Have a seat, kitten.”

As if hypnotised by his smooth voice, you reached for the seat next to him. But he stopped you by raising the hand carrying his cigarette. You could see the lit tip glowing faintly at the movement. He had taken in a deep breath, which he only let out after shortly looking away from you, as if amused. Then, as he looked back at you and blew the smoke towards you, he lowered his hand again.

“On my lap, love.”

On second thought, you should have denied his request. But his voice was so alike. Especially now that you heard Joaquin’s voice on the screen and the purred demand from the clown in front of you.

It was like he was one and the same. You must be dreaming.

Supressing a laugh, you turned a bit so you could sit comfortably on the man’s lap. “I must be dreaming, right.” You repeated your own thought. “I would never sit on a stranger’s lap this way.”

But as the man blew another puff of smoke past your face, making your nose scrunch at the warmth of it, you felt his free hand wander up your thigh. For a short moment it rested there. Hot. Demanding. Solid. Then it tickled up your spine until it rested at the back of your neck before he curled his fingers in your hair and suddenly- all too sudden- he pulled your head back so your eyes found his.

He was grinning. You could see the mirth in his eyes.

“Oh, puppet, if only this were a dream. You’d be so much better off if it was….”

You had no time to ponder what he could have possibly meant by those words, because with a flick of the hand his cigarette had been discarded and his fingers found your leg.

The hand that had been in your hair had now slid down to your neck again, which he grabbed, holding you in place.

If you wanted to struggle it would be in vain. His hand had snuck past your waist, sending hot sparks through your tummy. And then, without a warning, that same hand went lower and lower until it was between your thighs.

“Hush, kitten,” you could hear the clown whisper in your ear. “You’re in for a treat tonight.”

#will get to it eventually

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