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aoyilight · 25 days ago

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Bright Eyes (chapter1) ---The Freak Circus Fanfic

By Destinysquared

Pairing: Pierrot/Gender Neutral MC ~~~~~WITH SKETCHES BY ME THROUGHOUT THE FANFIC ITSELF :D ~~~~SOME IN COLORRRRR~~~~~~~

Summary: You've always been an impulsive person, living life jumping from one adventure (or disaster) onto the next. Thankfully a certain clown seems to happily tolerate your rash behavior. That is, until you do something so unexpected that even the quiet, sweet Pierrot is thrown off his game.

(Author notes at the end with a BONUS sketchhhh, also this fic is on my A03 linked here (leave a comment or kudos if you are able!)

THIS FIC IS BASED OFF OF MY PIERROT COMIC LINKED HERE and @local-shrub's MC!

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Making rash decisions based on feeling alone was both a blessing and a curse.

Your infamous impulsivity ranged from complimenting a stranger’s clothes on the street to purchasing a 2-year lease for an apartment without ever seeing it in person. Thankfully, the latter issue worked out just fine; this time, anyway. Your current place wasn’t perfect, but far from a hovel. Still, this headlong lifestyle attracted trouble like a magnet dropped in a bucket of nails. It affected both your work life and personal life in ways that haunted you to this day.

Second-hand embarrassment, especially from your own memories, was no joke.

Yet nothing, not even the odd encounter you JUST had with a green clown who introduced himself ‘The Harlequin’ this morning, could stop your smile.

All because, as of yesterday, your spontaneity actually helped to make a new friend.

Or at least you hoped it did.

Bullies took up a decent chunk of your childhood, especially since you couldn’t keep your mouth shut. The idea of picking on someone for their looks or speech or whatever else, filled you with an old rage. All the memories of past tormentors resurfaced the day you witnessed a man punching a defenseless circus performer in the street. All over wild accusations of kidnapping and paranoid rambling. Yeesh. What proof did this jerk even have that the circus had anything to do with the missing woman from the local news? You knew from experience that this bully just wanted someone to blame; taking these frustrations out on an unarmed civilian passing out flyers.

So naturally, without a second thought, you stepped in.

People who hesitated made little sense to someone with your reckless mindset. Only those who took action were able to get things done. So, like how you often did things without thinking, you intervened. And strangely enough, that worked out too! A proud feeling swelled inside as you glared at the jerk pathetically dragging himself away from the scene.

Maybe it was okay to make rash decisions every now and again.

This was surely the proof, right?

Only good karma could come from this.

Immediately, you helped the poor (yet extremely tall) circus performer, whom you’d come to know later as The Pierrot, to his feet. After making sure he was ok, you even gave him one of the many bandages resting neatly in your workbag (a sad necessity due to your spontaneous nature). The slightly injured clown didn’t speak to you then, but instead communicated by nodding when asked if he was ok. However, things changed once you got a good look at the towering man up close.

Such an intricate costume was a sight to behold. Gold accents glistering in light that bounced off of the nearby shop windows and stone walls. Black stripes wrapping against the deep crimson of his hat, like tongues in a kiss. And was that….silver hair? Perhaps it was a wig, though the light strands looked so soft to you that they almost bled with the clouds in the sky (with which his great height seemingly reached). Above everything however, you couldn’t help but notice the golden eyes he had. What an unusual color!

Without thinking it through, as usual, you leaned toward him. Entranced while handing over the pink band aid from your bag. So spellbound that in your predictably rash yet innocent manner, you blurted out:

“Wow….you have the most beautiful, brightest eyes I’ve ever seen.”

You almost heard a choked (slightly muffled) gasp from the silent clown’s strained throat. Like dust clearing out of an old attic’s floorboards, he creaked as a response. Though it might’ve been literally anything else too. It was, after all, a busy street despite the earlier commotion. People and cars ran by the two of you in a hazy blur. Yet the clown’s face, while seemingly masked, did look a little taken aback with a now strained smile.

Oh no.

You hoped you hadn’t scared him off with your unprompted comment; a sadly common response in your life. Naturally, you apologized with a soft voice while blushing out of embarrassment. Both of you, red as the deep crimson of the clown’s silken suit, stood awkwardly in the road for a moment too long. So long that a pill bug curled itself by your foot and rolled away before you had the chance to act.

Oh Well, a bleak thought brewed with an internal groan, there I go again. Being my ever-so-charming self. It’s a mystery I’m still single.

Much to your surprise, despite the awkwardness, you actually saw the silent stranger again later that night!

Finally, at your workplace, you ended up learning that the clown’s name, or at least his job title, was The Pierrot. And as a thank you for your kind gesture earlier, he gifted a free ticket to his show.

“I assure you I will make you smile during my performance,” his wide mouth stretched to the corners of his reddening face.

“Can’t wait to see you there, Bright Eyes!”

Your grin grew remembering how deeply The Pierrot blushed at the nickname given to him as you wiped the counters of dust before this morning’s shift began. At first you were mortified that you just called this random guy ‘Bright Eyes’ out of nowhere! It was rude to give someone a name like that without their permission, wasn’t it? Luckily, after apologizing profusely on your part, Pierrot assured you that he was ok with it. Really ok with it.

Yesterday held a pleasant memory that continued to carry you even after this busy and rather bizarre morning with The Harlequin.

It didn’t help that soon after you heard about your own co-worker’s sudden and mysterious exit. Carol, a woman you used to worked with, hadn’t told anyone she was going away. Running out of town without any notice; leaving you and your understaffed boss to pick up the slack at the café.

Admittedly, this brand-new day was starting to feel like, well, a lot already. Even for someone as up-beat as you, it made your bright morning quickly turn overcast. Not completely cloudy, but enough to make you cautious of whatever else was to come. Thankfully, the chill of the door opening behind you helped bring things back into perspective.

With your back to the door, you took a breath for a second, vowing that today would be good.

Today would be productive.

And today, you would keep your loose lips shut!

As the bells of the entryway rang, you turned from behind the counter, ready to greet the first few customers of the day with your best retail smile.

“Good morning! Ah!”

Sun glowed like a halo behind the crimson clown as he strolled inside. A wintery breeze from behind wafted in, caressing your bare arms. The action causing goosebumps to form. Despite this, your shivering from the brisk weather seemed to spur your new friend closer towards you.

“It’s you again! Want something to drink, Pierrot?” you asked with a friendly grin.

Seeing the crimson clown in one piece sent a wave of relief through you. Something about how earlier The Harlequin’s toothy grin as Pierrot gripped the green ticket you almost (impulsively) took from his rival seemed a little too real to be a street show. Still, the blushing face Pierrot sported now was enough to reassure that everything seemed to be ok.

Though his odd choice of drink seemed to indicate otherwise, “Alright, have a seat Bright Eyes and sit tight! I’ll bring it to your table.”

For a moment it seemed as though his golden orbs glowed as his new nickname flew out from your lips. Though it was light outside this winter morning so maybe it was just a sun spot? Who knows, right? You shrugged it off and turned away from your new friend with a short wave; sitting with his usual quiet grin. Before you could start on Pierrot’s order, your boss stopped you. Cautiously, the café owner didn’t want any circus performers to linger in his café without paying nor handing out flyers inside. Quickly, you alleviated his fears with a smile saying that your new friend had in fact ordered a drink and wouldn’t solicit any customers.

With that done, your boss went to check on inventory in the back room as you turned around to abruptly face---

“Whoa!” a gasp fell out. “You scared me!”

Pierrot suddenly appeared leaning towards you over the counter. He was so close you started to wonder what on earth he wanted at this proximity.

“Pierrot?” you took in a sharp breath as he firmly grabbed your bicep; clawed fingers tracing over the muscle beneath your cotton shirt. The feeling of those sharp nails against your arm was enough to make you nervous, though you weren’t sure at first in which way.

“I was just going to get your shake,” a reasonable excuse to leave despite the nervousness in your voice.

Still, Pierrot only leaned more-so over the counter. His strong grip begging your body closer to him. Since when were his hands so big?, You wondered to yourself. Bright yellow eyes once more on yours like lures; such a beautiful color that seemed too perfect to be real. Surely the performers were all using contacts, yet the gold suited The Pierrot; now more than ever before. There was something predatory about the way he was looking at you just now. You felt yourself nearing the silent clown against your will, his demeanor making you a bit disoriented. No one, not even your best relationships had someone look at you with such….

…Hunger?

The cat-like slits of his eyes indicated as such.

A chill you hadn’t felt since your high school sweetheart danced with you at prom, traveled down the arm trapped in Pierrot’s firm grip.

Eyes widening upon realizing why the silent clown was acting this way. After all, there was only one reason a person leaned in so close to another, wasn’t it? Surely just one reason and no other. Your face reddened as his mouth parted, confirming your theory. Strangely enough, it was still hard to tell, even at this proximity, if he was wearing a mask or not. Though, to be fair, you were too mesmerized by his bewitching manner to pay attention to such details. Pierrot’s movements, now so close that his breathe was hot against your cheek, compelled you to act swiftly. To respond to his obvious want.

There was no going back now.

Perhaps The Pierrot began to whisper something before you did what you did, but it hardly mattered.

Nothing else mattered anymore.

His lips were harder than expected, still they did mold against yours like a kiss should. He was warm, very warm. Almost as though Pierrot’s entire body was burning the longer you continued it. In your mind, this was what he wanted so why not give it to him? It’s just the logical thing to do when someone leans in so close, right? The clown was sweet, and it’s certainly not the first time your impromptu nature kissed someone cute out of nowhere. Sure, these types of actions got you into trouble like dating a DJ who cheated on you. Twice.

But how could you resist? He leaned in first after all.

With a secure feeling in your soul of souls that this was the right call, you grinned cheekily while parting from him.

“So….Liked it?”

Then your heart sank.

There, with your arm still in his now slackened grip was The Pierrot with a completely shocked and blank expression. Eyes wide, pupils small as beads, and mouth for once turned downward in an open frown. The shock of seeing such an unusual expression on your always smiling new friend suddenly made you panic.

Did you break him?

“Pierrot? Hello?” you chuckled nervously, using your spare arm to wave in front of his empty face, blushing harder than ever before.

Oh Yeah, you broke him.

Pierrot.exe definitely crashed on your countertop.

Crap. Did you misread his intentions? Did you mess up again? Why did you always do things like this? Fear consumed everything as you bit your lip. Your mind replaying over and over again what the silent clown was doing right before leaning in; how you could’ve messed this all up. Surely, he was going in for a kiss, right? Or did he possibly want something else? You knew he couldn’t speak in public, so what was he doing? Wait……didn’t you hear him say something right before you planted one on him? Ugh, what was it!? Sweat started to gather in the back of your neck. Maybe you ruined this, whatever it was the two of you had, before it even began.

Wouldn’t’ve been the first time.

“Well, uh,” Pierrot’s hands now trembling and open, letting you slip out of the clawed grip. Slowly as not to freak him out any further.

“I’ll just go get your drink.”

Stupid, stupid, stupid, you groaned internally while trying to hold a glass for his milkshake in your now sweaty hands. What does he think of me now?

What indeed.

Was all of this another dream? Oh how cruel it’d be if so. What more proof did Pierrot’s kind need that they weren’t favored by the light, if all of this turned out to be yet another hallucination of his gradually fracturing mind.

In spite of that, the burning on Pierrot’s lips and the shuddering of your shoulders as you wobbled towards the soft serve machine was proof enough. A lithe tongue peaked out just a hint from behind his large teeth, licking his lips slowly; languidly over each contour the mask. How he savored the sweet taste left behind. Delicou---wonderful, like ambrosia mixed with torn flesh. Pierrot’s eyes dilated at the sensation while taking a deep breath, daring to capture even a hint of your scent.

That. DID. Just. Happen.

You…..wanted him?

You loved him?

It was so soon. Far too soon. Though the quickened pace of his heart stopped The Pierrot from second-guessing this blessing any further. What did it matter that it didn’t make any sense? The fact was---you loved him. Didn’t you? Why would you do that otherwise? Or was he assuming things? Misunderstanding again? Never in his wildest fantasies did the crimson clown’s mind dare to think he could have you NOW. Right now. Surely that is what you meant by all this? You were giving him permission to take you, right? By giving him this gift, you opened yourself fully to his love with a warm and waiting embrace.

Oh yes….the gift of your lips.

Softer than the petals of the bloodied paper flower he gave you just one day prior.

Had it really been that long ago? Could he have had you sooner?

How long did you feel this way? Why couldn’t you have given him a sign?

If only he’d known!

The clown’s arm was still trembling, elbow standing up on the counter and clawed hand reaching out towards you. Yearning to hold his true love again. Your figure blurred as Pierrot’s golden pupils struggled to focus amid the storm in his mind. Though it wasn’t until after clutching his claws in and out a few times that the clown realized you weren’t actually near. The warmth you exuded on his mouth and hand still stayed with him like a brand of molten iron on his skin.

No.

Why were you gone? Why weren’t you here still in his hold?

He needed more.

He had to have more.

It wasn’t enough, it wasn’t fair.

He wasn’t prepared for this.

If only he’d known your true feelings sooner, then he would have never let you go that quickly. He would’ve held you tighter, yes, that would have done it. Tighter and forever. Kept you closer, made it all last longer. Even a single second more would’ve sated him for days to come.

Finally, Pierrot stood up from his chair.

For some reason making this milkshake was taking longer than normal. No, actually, you knew exactly why. You needed to stall for time, BADLY. How were you going to fix this awkward situation? Did you just assault a clown? How do you even begin to apologize for that? Would you ever be able to show your face to him again? Why wouldn’t he just say something already?

The latter, obvious, question you would’ve remembered the answer to if your anxiety-ridden brain allowed it. For now, everything just felt like a hodgepodge of bad decisions and assumptions swirling like the ice cream in Pierrot’s half-filled glass.

Even so, there was a part of you that didn’t hate what happened.

While you weren’t exactly looking to get into another relationship at the moment, it wasn’t an unwelcome prospect. After all, it’s not like getting involved with a circus performer, who’d probably just leave in a month or two at the latest, was the worst decision you ever made?

Even if you both had stayed only friends, it wouldn’t have lasted anyway.

Ah. Right….

That last thought somehow filled you with a little more sadness than expected.

Not that there was any time to linger on such things as a loud slam broke through the silence of the empty café. Your shoulders hiked up in alarm as you found yourself trapped between The Pierrot’s quivering, large arms. Or at least you thought it was Pierrot. In front of you was a man with a feral sort of grin, one you’d only seen on tigers in nature books. A curved, crooked sort of smirk was drawn on his mask. Clawed hands on either side of your head gripped the soft serve machine tight enough that you worried for a fleeting moment if he’d leave imprints on the hard plastic. Except, despite this completely new expression from the silent clown, Pierrot managed to keep a proper distance. Trapping you, yes, but far enough away to allow some breathing room, unlike before.

After looking around the café for a moment to make sure the two of you were still alone, the clown managed to utter out a sentence in a raspy, deep and almost nervous tone.

“M-May…..May I have another?”

A moment passed you both by, stilling time before an answer was found. Involuntarily you backed a little into the machine behind you, unsure of what to make of all this. You hadn’t even heard him approach. Not to mention, how did he get over here so quickly? Did he jump over the counter or something? Well, he was from the circus after all, maybe he was an acrobat too? Or a ninja? A clown ninja?

Your malfunctioning brain managed only to mutter a quiet reply with one corner of your mouth tiling upward nervously:

“Another….shake?”

It was ridiculous to ask. Granted, not the worst answer you’ve ever given (no, that prize belonged in the essay portion of your college exams), but definitely up there. Regardless, The Pierrot’s eyes opened a millimeter wider as you spoke. Pupils growing into larger sharp ovals, as he strained to shake his head at the innocent question.

Oh.

Oh ok.

Words finally failed you.

A trait your companion knew all too well, waiting patiently with the same acute expression as before (though you could’ve sworn there was some drool forming on the side of his lower lip).

“Another, huh?” Now you were blushing even more than he was. “Another what?”

You knew. Or at least…

No. Not this time. You needed to be sure, to not misunderstand, to not assume. All the same, your impulse caused you to reach forward with both hands, fingers brushing against the side of his supposedly masked face. The action caused Pierrot’s eyes to shine even brighter than the florescent lamps above. This time, you were the one leaning forward, whispering.

“Another……?” your thumb brushes against his lip.

A loud gulp could be heard as the silent clown seemed to melt under your touch.

Oh wow, you thought excitedly.

With that, your entire body lit up. Things were starting to click for once in your scrambled gray matter. You realized this wasn’t the first time he silently begged for you like this. Even from the beginning those brightest of eyes spoke a language all on their own. All of The Freak Circus performers were intimidating, scary even, as was their brand, but this one? This tall, toothy, clown with eyes like pools of lava was now putty in your literal hands.

Moving one finger over his cheek caused Pierrot to shudder, leaning closer made him breath harder. The power, the control. It intoxicated you and it was always there. Never before did it feel like you actually had someone’s life in your hands. It was terrifying, wrong even. No one should have this control over someone else, logically speaking, yet you couldn’t help but drink it all in one gulp. What the hell did that say about you?

Perhaps there was no misunderstanding earlier after all.

Maybe he did want this from the beginning, but you had to be completely sure.

“Ok….Tell me, Bright Eyes,” you whispered with a daring, hungry look of your own. “What do you want from me?”

A trick of the light, it must’ve been, as it seemed like his pupils formed golden hearts. Leaning forward, he carefully and hotly whispered his reply before a horrid chime rang through both of your ears like the shot of a pistol.

“Mommy, look! A clown!”

You nearly squeaked, ducking under the tall, now rigid red figure before you to greet the small crowd of customers who began to pour in. With a flushed face and sweaty brow you still managed to use your oh-so-reliable spontaneity to your advantage. Some customers, as you seated them, even asked if the café was in any way associated with the circus after seeing Pierrot behind the counter. Questions that made you hastily correct them before returning to The Pierrot’s unreadable form. Said clown stood still as a statue in the same spot as you left him, clutching the soft serve machine with a quiet anger.

It was kind of funny really. All of this. Funnier though if you hadn’t been so distracted, nearly getting caught fraternizing with a complete, yet alluring, stranger. You almost reached out towards the seemingly disappointed (shell shocked?) performer, until without warning he stood up straight. The gesture was so quick you almost felt a breeze from the graceful movement. Pierrot’s usual cryptic smile returning as he walked back with what seemed to be a slight strain in his step, to the other side of the counter.

Well, that was quick.

You smiled and even laughed at the act. He was so intense one moment and awkward the next that it was endearing. This whole thing….whatever it was…whatever was happening…it was so bizarre that you just had to laugh it out. What a day!

“Thanks, Pierrot,” you wiped a tear from your eye with a genuine smile beaming at him. “I needed that.”

Finally, The Pierrot began to resemble his usual self. Less rigid with a relaxing gaze, reddened face, and softer expression as your joy permeated so freely around him. Only him.

It was a nice moment while it lasted.

Unfortunately, one of the women seated yelled at the two of you from her table, breaking-up the sweet moment. She ended up accusing you of not only being lazy but also of spending more time goofing off with your ‘friend’ instead of working. For a moment a look of fear flashed over your face as you hoped she wouldn’t go telling your boss. You needed this job. Immediately, you apologized and began to hastily get back to work. Never seeing how Pierrot observed your frantic behavior with some worry. Nor how he eventually turned to look at the rude woman with a different sort of hunger. A hunger that the clown wouldn’t dare show you if he could help it.

“Uh here you go…..sir?” the last bit felt strange on your tongue after everything that happened. “Finally….your milkshake.”

Pierrot in his usual sweet way paid for his drink with an additional chocolate bar as a tip. It was such a cute thing to do that you couldn’t help but chuckle again, thanking him for his kindness. Sadly, even after getting the rude woman her coffee, she still didn’t seem satisfied and left in a huff under the clown’s piercing gaze. Relief washed over the whole café as she walked out. Then, the day was over. Pierrot, now close to the entryway, started to wave a goodbye.

Though before he left, something rang in your ears besides the bells of the door. It was the word he whispered before you two were interrupted, the answer to your question.

What did he want from you?

Everything.

“Oh wait! Pierrot,” you yelled while waving back from the counter.

The clown stopped for a moment, halfway outside, and smiled. His eyes once more on you and you alone.

“I’ll uh, see you tonight, yeah?” you gulped, looking away from him with a shyness not befitting what was coming next. “And….if you want…we could continue where we left off….later.”

He nearly went into cardiac arrest.

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A/N: An alternate ending where Pierrot DID go into cardiac arrest and Harlequin has to drag him out before paramedics arrive can be found here XD:

So special thanks again to @local-shrub for both beta reading this fic and for letting me use their MC!!

To clarify, this alllll started as an ask @nekoboydreams answered regarding how Pierrot would react if the MC just straight-up kissed him when he visits the cafe for the second time. It was so funny, the reaction i mean, that I drew this comic of it XD. Then, I realized I realllllllly wanted to write this all out as a fic and local-shrub kindly offered some advice on how they envisioned their very impulsive MC!!

It was a fun challenge trying to balance an MC who just DOES things randomly and is somewhat embarrassed by this behavior.

Likely though, there 'could' be a chapter2 to this---but if I do it >_> it will get a tad spicy. Considering that MC/Pierrot would pick up where they left off. Let me know if you all wannnnnttt~~ enjoyyyyy~ Please leave a kudos/comment on the a03 version if you can!

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aoyilight · 29 days ago

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Of Harlequins and Jalapeños ---The Freak Circus Fanfic By Destinysquared

Pairing: Harlequin/Gender Neutral MC ~~~~~WITH SKETCHES BY ME THROUGHOUT THE FANFIC ITSELF :D ~~~~SOME IN COLORRRRR~~~~~~~

Summary: Harlequin was a difficult man to get along with until you both realize something you have in common: a love of all things spicy. Logically, the two of you use this opportunity to truly get to know one another with a 'friendly' competition at the cafe involving lots of hot sauce and iron clad wit.

CW: for mild language and suggestive/mild sexual themes. This is also a comedic fic btwwww with some 'seriousness' sprinkled in. (Author notes at the end, also this fic is on my A03 linked here (leave a comment or kudos if you are able!)

---BTW I'm sorry if Harlequin is OOC here, I did my best ;_;

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“There isn’t a single fair thing about those rules,” a loud groan rumbled through the nigh empty café.

It was a terrible idea, all of it. You’re not even sure how you got into this situation; sitting across from Harlequin (aka: The Clown Menace). Who in rare form had his cloak draped over the back of a wooden chair instead on his person, during this cold night. Bottles of hot sauce and small plastic cups surrounding the two of you. Four chilled bottled waters at the ready. Your boss could kill you for this honestly. Bringing some strange costumed weirdo to your place of work after closing and without permission. All for what? To settle a bet? To finally stand up to the menace’s smug, masked face?

You groaned again, slumping one of the many uncomfortable wooden chairs inside, wondering how your life ended up this way.

“Fair?” Harlequin’s toothy grin widened at your annoyance. “If you wanted a fair, you should’ve come to the circus with me today instead! We could’ve had oh so much fun in my tent.”

“And do what, watch your creepy puppet show for the millionth time again?” You rolled your eyes, ignoring the suggestive nature of the clown’s excuse. “We agreed on either your workplace or mine for this and mine is quieter---but that was before you lied to me!”

“Moi? I would never,” he feigned shock while placing a dramatic clawed hand on his chest. “It isn’t my fault you assumed I would be participating in this little contest with you.”

“Bull,” you leaned forward, glaring hotly into his shimmering green eyes. “Shit.”

It’d been two weeks since you starting living in the Alice in Wonderland fever dream that was now your life. Clowns, clowns everywhere, and not a one left you alone; worst of all was The Harlequin. There was something about this menace that just GOT to you. Every barb, every encounter especially when The Pierrot was around turned into a full-blown fight. For some reason though, this weird green gargoyle seemed to ‘like’ you, especially when you fought back. It didn’t help that after years of working in customer service, your mind was as chiseled as a body builder’s abs. Harlequin often came to the cafe nearly every day, only for you two to duel like fencers on stage in a battle of wits.

Because of these frequent bouts, eventually you both found some common ground (aside from your sharpened tongues).

Pranking people was seen as a fun hobby, albeit the clown’s ideas were more on the ‘intense�� side of the spectrum. Additionally, the pair of you shared some skills, such as the ability to quell even the most argumentative of bullies with guile alone.

More recently, the mutual love of savory foods over sweet managed to inspire some civil conversation amid your daily duels. You two LOVED all things spicy, the hotter the better. So, when Harlequin suggested he’d bring over some of his ‘special’ hot sauce that only the bravest of souls could handle, you relented. It was implied to be a rendezvous in the form of a friendly contest to see who had the strongest taste buds.

After all, it’s not like you wanted to stay on the clown’s bad side or anything. Menace or not. Heck, at times the jerk could be downright charming when it suited him. So, you thought, maybe a friendly tournament would be a good chance to get to know Harlequin in an honest setting. Continue the bond started over a flippant conversation about the merits of green, red, and black hot peppers. Unfortunately, the smarmy fool forgot to mention that he was unable (or unwilling) to eat or drink anything in front of you.

Something about appearances, circus rules, and getting his costume dirty? Likely more BS. Which meant that only YOU were going to be trying his ‘special’, not to mention unlabeled, hot sauces….alone.

Some ‘friendly competition.’

In short, not only was all of this a terrible idea, it was a dumb one too.

“I can’t believe this,” you gritted your teeth while crossing your arms. “How the hell are we supposed to have a contest if I’m trying all these, hopefully not poisonous, bottles by myself?”

While unscrewing the top of one of the few brand-named dressings he had, Harlequin chuckled. His clawed hand popped it open as though it were a bottle of champagne; making sure to be as dramatic as possible while pouring the mixture in one of the many small plastic cups in front of you.

His grin darkened, “Poison? My how paranoid. Here I thought you wanted to get to know me. Start over, clean slate, like chums do.”

You rolled your eyes as he continued, “Look at these bottles. I have tasted each sample you see here, but there are only TWO sauces I’ve never been able to handle no matter how much water I drink. Like fire in my throat, every time!”

This fact made you raise a brow much to Harlequin’s delight. He practically smelled how intrigued you were; oh yeah, he had you pegged.

Harlequin’s unique palette was similar to your own. In fact, the way you two managed to bond over spicy food in the first place was because you snuck a miniscule jar of jalapeños in as a snack (not trusting the circus food), and the rest was history. Few people appreciated your love of spiciness, but for whatever reason this grinning grinch in front of you loved the taste just as much as you did. Problem was? Part of the fun of eating something hot with another person was to see each other’s reactions. Bond over the pain, so-to-speak. But because of these weird ‘circus rules’, or so he claimed, it took all the fun out of tonight for you.

You wanted to see him squirm.

“Okay, I’ll bite,” you smirked while holding up a cup of sauce the clown recently poured for you. “But we gotta make this more, interesting. You owe me that at least.”

“Oh?”

“If I manage to withstand ONE of your two ‘oh-so-hot’ sauces without needing even a single drop of water, then you have to be….nice.”

Harlequin chuckled lowly, crossing his arms in amusement, “My dear, I am always nice, especially for you!”

More and more bullshit.

“You know, if you truly wanted my attention in that way, all you need to do was---"

You grinned, stopping him with the click of your tongue, “Oh I don’t want you to be nice to me, but rather to Pierrot. In front of myself and The Jester, I want you to gush to him about how wonderful, how much taller, stronger, and braver he is than you. Then, with a grand finale, you confess…”

“..Oh Pierrot, if only I could be just like you!,” your words grew pitchforks with every crossed ‘T’ and dotted ‘I’.

Then, there it was, the reaction you were hoping for.

Ah, if only you had a camera.

Even though you wouldn’t be able to see Harlequin panting, desperately needing water for dear life during this contest of spice, the expression he had on now was almost worth enduring this night. The grinding of the clown’s sharpened teeth as he struggled to maintain his signature smirk was like music to your devilish ears. Alas, all good things must come to an end however. Harlequin, with slightly narrowed eyes, stood up in his seat, absentmindedly twirling a finger around a lone dark curl near his right eye.

“I see,” A sharp sound echoed in the café from the clicking of a tongue against one’s cheek. “And what, pray tell, do I get out of this if you lose?”

“Anything that twisted little brain of yours comes up with, Curly,” you challenged while bringing the cup to your lips. “Bring it on.”

For some reason it seemed like Harlequin was cold. Odd, considering the heat was still on despite the café being closed. It was winter after all. The clown’s body shuddered slightly, bells on his hat jingling as evidence of his sudden chill. Gaze full of jade shimmered over your person as you took a swig of the ‘easier’ of the bottles that the green menace brought for this contest.

“Anything,” Harlequin languidly leaned back in the chair that was nearly hidden by his black and gold cloak.

He continued with an almost thoughtful tone, “What a dangerously tempting offer. Decisions, decisions. You may come to regret those words, you know?”

“Anything within reason,” you urged while slamming down the now empty plastic cup of sauce on the wooden table. “By the way? That was weak. Basically, watered down baby formula.”

“Ah yes, I forgot I was dealing with a fellow colleague of the School of Spice. Forgive me, my dear, it shan’t happen again.”

You unfortunately let loose a grin and a huff while slowly shaking your head. A gesture that seemed to encourage the menace before you to continue on with his showmanship and Shakespearian mannerisms. Bowing slightly, seemingly out of ‘respect’ for your mutual interest in spicy things, you returned the gesture while wagging an empty cup in his face playfully.

“Come on, less adoration to my obvious greatness and more sauce,” a wicked gleam similar to his twinkled in your eye. “The faster I win, and I will win, the faster Pierrot gets the surprise of his life.”

Harlequin’s eyes narrowed at the mention of the silent clown. Even now, here alone with you in such a vulnerable setting, it felt as though nothing couldn’t escape any mention of The Pierrot. Turning towards the large windows of the café, there was no need to ask the question of who was watching the two of your in the alley across the street. Granted, the green clown couldn’t actually see Pierrot, but there was no doubt about it. After all, if you were here, then your red and gold shadow was sure to follow.

What a literal fool.

Still, this fine. He’s just where he deserves to be. Outside. With the dogs, Harlequin thought with a slight frown to his large grin. Now turning his head downward for a moment, a slight shadow cast over his eyes.

Still, there was time to revel in victory and time to mark territory.

For now, Harlequin had to focus the latter.

“Aren’t you curious what I want from you if I win?” Green tipped claws immediately grasped one of the dreaded unlabeled bottles adjacent, twirling it in hand as though it were a rare jewel. “What if I want something you couldn’t provide, hm?”

You eyed the strangle bottle warily as he went on, “Then pick something else—and hey….look--real talk for a second---is that….. poison?”

“Hm,” Harlequin uncapped the top of the container and suddenly your eyes began to water, “you have a will, right?”

Even from across the table the smell felt strong enough to punch someone in the face. So much so that you wondered if opening a window later would be able to get rid of the smell before your boss found out what you two were doing in here.

The air stung like onions on a chopping board.

What the hell did you get yourself into?

“That cannot be FDA approved,” you choked harder as Harlequin began to shove the bottle near your face with a larger festering grin. “Ok ok, wow, just pour it already! Stop!”

“Such a brave soul!” he practically sang while pulling the rancid container away. “I knew thee well.”

You didn’t laugh.

“So serious,” Harlequin tsked at you like a parent to child, pouring the contents of the rancid bottle in a nearby empty cup.

“Sorry bud, my type of comedy is a little more risqué than that.”

“Ohhoo, so you like spice in both your food and stand-up? I’ll make note of that. Might be a fun idea for a show.”

You raised a brow, “That couldn’t possibly go over well in a circus.”

“Why not? It’s adults only after all.”

He got you there.

“Knock Knock.”

“What--?” you balked.

“Knock. KNOCK,” Harlequin repeated slowly with a less patient tone now finished pouring your share of the sauce.

His change in subject once more gave you whiplash, “Fu—Ok fine, Who’s there?”

“My cock.”

You knew where this was going. You knew the moment he knocked. It was the type of joke only a fourth grader who just learned how to spell ‘penis’ would make. Didn’t matter though. The edge of your wit was sharpened by the whet stone of his doomed set-up.

“Makes sense,” you leaned back, twirling the plastic cup of sauce like a glass of red wine, “cause your dick is a joke.”

Oh….hm …

You might’ve taken that one too far….

..Or not far enough?

It was honestly impossible to tell with him.

Harlequin just stared at you for a second, seemingly bristling at the interruption of his perverted parody. Though it might’ve surprised you to know the true reason he shook and gritted his teeth oh so tightly was out of slight admiration for you.

That was good. Really good.

He almost forgot what it was like to be matched in such a way. Excitement traveled through Harlequin’s hard bones like a cold breeze on human skin.

Having spent much of his life tormenting either a silent red buffoon or the occasional one-night stand on the road, never had something like this happened. Someone who met his silver-tongued words so perfectly with barbs of steel.

Why his silent confrère, someone who was obsessed with all things sweet, would pick such a temptingly tangy tart like yourself (a human so outside Pierrot’s usual ‘tastes’), Harlequin would never know.

Perhaps The Pierrot did have a thing for savory food after all.

Speaking of, the green clown had to hold himself back from salivating at the thought. Oh, how delicious you were right now, it was almost unfair to have to wait. Wait until you became more attached. Until the name Pierrot perished in your mind and all of your wit, fear, and love could be expressed amid a cacophony of pleading moans (and screams)---all for The Harlequin alone.

Then, and only then, would he truly find out how appetizing you were.

“Very good, I concede defeat,” the words seeped out of his toothy mouth like butter on a hot pan.

“Well…..yeah?” you said warily, taken aback at the sudden change in the clown’s demeanor. “Wouldn’t want to take your day job away from you or anything. Although, or I guess it’s a night job…….huh?”

Naturally, the time your wit decided to leave you was once Harlequin began to act humble for the first time in god knows when. You braced yourself for the biting comeback that was surely to follow such a weak response, but it never did. Instead, The Harlequin closed his eyes and bowed his head to you. One hand raised up, gesturing towards your still full cup of mystery sauce. He wanted to continue. He was actually letting you.

You didn’t really buy it, but what else was there to do?

Harlequin being rude, snarky, flirty--These were things you knew how to deal with but, this?

When did everything suddenly get so tense?

Reluctantly you put the pungent cup close to your mouth and swallowed. The gesture attempting to bring things back to the more jovial, racy atmosphere that tonight started with.

But oh wow, did you choke on it.

At first the mixture tasted kind of sweet, an odd choice knowing where The Harlequin’s taste buds lied; then it hit. The smell alone which previously made your eyes want to tear up now blistered the roof of your mouth. Not even the heat of the ghost pepper sandwich you had for lunch earlier matched anything close to this. Panting with a now reddened tongue sticking out, you waved frantically at it; hoping some of the winter air from outside would get in your mouth.

The Harlequin, who your watery eyes started to focus on after hearing some snide chuckling from across the table, seemed more than satisfied by the display. Gently, he poked one of the water bottles in the middle of the table closer to you with a widening grin that nearly split the edges of his mask.

“Thirsty?”

No matter what you did, the burning sensation of whatever was inside that possibly illegal concoction he fed you wasn’t worth this. Attempting to mimic the breathing you’d seen pregnant women do in movies during labor, you heaved in and out. Harlequin, now with his clawed hands laced under his chin, propping his head up, stared at you as though his eyes alone could record this momentously embarrassing occasion.

Screw it, the burn was just getting hotter with every second; nothing was worth this.

Without hesitation you snatched the water bottle the clown pushed towards you with a grip so hard it almost burst open the cap with your strength alone. Harlequin laughed snidely from his chest, hand on his heart (assuming he had one) with a slightly amused cough. If the green clown had been allowed to eat anything in front of you, it likely would’ve been popcorn. A fitting snack meant to witness the show you were putting on for him properly.

“Well, I did warn you,” he chided with an almost giddy gleam in his emerald eyes. “If you like, we could stick to some….milder…sauces. How about that baby formula you seemed so fond of, heh?”

“I. Hate,” you gasped each word out while guzzling as much water as possible, “You.”

“Now that won’t do. I suppose I’ll have to make it up to you later, won’t I?” The clown gushed dramatically. “Perhaps, after I win our bet, we could go on a little trip together? Somewhere quiet, dark, and cozy. What do you say?”

None of his words got through. As far as you were concerned, the only thing that mattered was getting the fire out of your mouth. Finally, after downing two more of the four water bottles you had on hand for this competition things started to calm down. Harlequin, naturally, continued grinning with glee as you guzzled each drop of water. Though now that you had a second to think about what you just ate…..you had to admit:

That it actually tasted pretty good.

“Huh,” you started, licking your lips thoughtfully. “Was there some Dedo de Moça in there? Tasted familiar.”

For once, the Harlequin leaned back in his chair, back straightened while facing you, intrigued, “Why yes, I’m surprised you got that. It’s not my favorite pepper, but the name alone speaks volumes, doesn’t it?”

He wagged his brow while staring at your hands for emphasis, causing you to clench said fingers with an ironic smile.

“It’s definitely unique, don’t get me wrong, though I’m not sure I agree about the name,” you relented. “But yeah, it’d for sure go great with some meat and wine…if you could stand the agony.”

“Hm, interesting idea. I may try that actually,” he grinned while leaning forward like a cat ready to pounce.

Oh no.

“Ready for the next one, dearest?”

You stiffened, nervously glancing at the last chilled water bottle left on the table. Right….there was one other sauce he was dying for you to try. Crap, you really didn’t think this through. When making this ‘bet’ with The Harlequin you thought for sure there was nothing he could dish out that you couldn’t handle, but now? And with only one bottle of water left? Maybe you should have asked him what he wanted from you before agreeing to any of this.

Either way, the odds weren’t good.

If things were meant to end badly this night, you wouldn’t go down without a fight.

“Hit me with your best shot,” a challenge was issued.

He laughed and for a moment the sound seemed foreign to you.

Weird.

He was laughing the whole day today, why did it suddenly sound….off?

This confusion lasted as long as he took to grab the next bottle of sauce. A container so dark and dusty that its contents were completely unknown from looking on the outside. What the heck? You thought to yourself with worry, Was this from his vintage collection or something?

“It’s been a while, as you can plainly see, since I’ve used this, but I’m sure it’s still just as good,” the clown smiled at the grimace which grew on your face due to that that awful reassurance. “Don’t fret, my dear. I would never feed you something truly harmful.”

“Intentionally anyway,” you replied flatly.

His eyes glistened at that, though more so as the clown poured some contents of the bottle in another small, empty plastic cup. There was surprisingly little to no scent emitting from this one and you weren’t sure if that was a good or bad sign. Though the color was the most shocking thing of all. It was….blue? The sweat exuded from the previous bit of sauce you had started to feel sticky against your skin at the sight this new obstacle. Maybe he really was trying to poison you. Would your poor, trusting boss find a bloated corpse tomorrow, surrounded by bottles of hot sauce? That’d be one for the obituaries.

“Uh, you sure that hasn’t expired or something, chief?” you gulped, trying to hide any agitation by crossing your arms in a seemingly confident manner. “Cause I don’t know any pepper or spice that would turn something into…..that shade ofblue.”

Harlequin hummed while capping the dark bottle, setting it aside while speaking in a cryptically reminiscent tone, “It’s an old herb from some forgotten village far away. A harmless plant really, but unfortunately no longer with us. Human intervention, progress, and all that.”

“And…you’re sharing it, this nigh extinct whatever-you-call-it, I mean, with me? Some random barista.”

He nodded.

“For a spicy sauce drinking contest?”

He nodded again.

Ok great, so he truly was out of his mind, that’s reassuring.

“You know what,” you said, picking up the cup confidently with an expression of ‘who even cares anymore’ tattooed on your face, “Sure. Why not. You could’ve probably sold this, you know? Even helped preserve an endangered species or something? Maybe get a fat check from some weirdo who collects hot sauce in his basement, but yeah…ok….this works. This is fine.”

Harlequin’s chest rose and fell with a closed mouth chuckle. Shaking his head at your ridiculous toast to this ridiculous situation. Attempting, but failing, you began to stare at the clown’s uncloaked figure as he laughed. A figure which looked far too good, too muscular in this light with each movement.

Dammit you needed to concentrate!

Instead, you nodded the cup of blue liquid towards your silver-tongued companion.

“Cheers.”

And in one swig, downing what little there was of the mysterious blue sauce from the miniature plastic cup. Though a small, startled gasp from The Harlequin shook you out of your bravado.

Hold on.

What the heck did you just do?

Like freshly placed tar on a driveway, your tongue felt like it was boiling. You stood up with a start, chair behind you fallen to the ground with a loud clank. It was poison, it had to be. This was worse than being boiled alive. You felt your skin turn red, lungs collapsing, gasping for air. Knuckles now white as you gripped the sides of the wooden table to hold you up, shaking the many bottles on it slightly. Water. You needed water. You lost, this was it, who cares anymore right? Even if he made you go into a dark alley in the dead of night as part of the bet it just didn’t matter. Water. Water please! It’s all you needed!

Just as you reached for the one thing that could save you from this hell, it disappeared.

Watered red eyes, looking as though you were just hit with pepper spray, strained to meet Harlequin’s glowing grin. His mouth slightly open as he dangled the bottle by the cap once you collapsed to your knees.

“Need something, dearest?”

“G--F—k…y---se-f,” you wheezed.

“Perhaps it was too much,” he tutted softly as though you were a lamb straying from the herd while handing over the bottle you so desperately coveted, “Here. You’ve certainly earned your prize.”

Your slick hands urgently reached for the cap but they kept slipping.

Naturally, things only got worse.

With an accidental flick of your wrist, the object of your salvation slipped from your sweaty grasp. Rolling away on the tiled floor. Dread rang through your burning figure as the bottle found itself behind the plant at the entryway on the other side of the room.

“Ah! Hold on!” the green clown twitched with some concern, now hurrying to get you the bottle for your wounded throat.

Despite Harlequin’s attempts to help, there just wasn’t much time. You needed to cool down NOW. Grasping your throat, you used the last bit of adrenaline you had to hoist yourself up and over the counter behind you. Rolling over with dangling, frantic limbs you managed to sprawl your body towards the soft serve ice cream machine. Pulling the lever and guzzling whatever flavor entered your enflamed gullet.

Oh sweet relief, there was a heaven somewhere!

You practically moaned as the ice cream met your tongue, eventually releasing the lever when you had your fill. Later that day, after finally unplugging the machines, you had to pay for that ice cream and it surprisingly wasn’t cheap. For now, it saved you; little thanks to the menace who caused all of this despite the concern he seemingly held at the end.

Harlequin was a man who was no doubt readying some kind of horrible quip and boisterous laugh at your expense at any moment now. After you were able to sit up on the counter, grabbing some napkins to wipe off whatever dribbled down your chin, it was time to face the music. Anxiously turning around on the wooden counter prepared to see the menace in action.

At first, The Harlequin reacted exactly as expected.

He looked at you as though dinosaurs randomly sprouted out of your nose while holding the last water bottle in a loose grip. As though he were unable to process what just happened. Like it all were something out of a dream. At first, the clown simply seemed shell-shocked, until something unexpected happened as you were wiping your chin of left over ice cream.

The Harlequin began to laugh.

Genuinely laugh.

It wasn’t the usual deriding chortle or short yet boisterous hum the green menace exuded whenever you two usually talked. No….he seemed actually….happy? It was a sight to behold. The sound of his cheery breath bounced on the walls, tearing away at the aroma from the cup you now held. Gloved hand covering his toothy smile as though he were trying to keep it together in any way he could (or as a means to part of his face from you). Finally, it made sense! Why his earlier laugh bothered you after asking the clown to ‘hit you with his best shot.’

It was strange because….

…This was real.

For once, you were seeing The Harlequin, not as a menace, nor as a sexy stranger, or silver-tongued sneak, but rather, a person having some genuine fun.

It was as though you’d been looking at him through a window until this very moment. So clear, so close. You somehow made the clown laugh so hard he seemed to forget where he was. That’s gotta check off some kind of bucket list, right?

Once a free hand rested on his rumbling diaphragm, Harlequin finally began to calm down. Though his face was flushed like The Pierrot often was. You found yourself now upright, sliding off the counter, staring at the spectacle warily. You wanted a reaction from him today…and boy did you get it. Finally, the clown stood began to walk towards you wobbling slightly; a laugh still beating against his chest like a drum.

Leaning back against the counter next to you, the clown placed the bottled water firmly in your slippery grip. Finally glancing in your direction with a breathy voice.

“If it makes you feel better, dearest, you lasted longer than the last time I tasted that awful concoction.”

Eyes not meeting his own emerald gaze with a wary smirk, “No kidding?”

“Oh yeah,” he nearly coughed another laugh from the memory, clawed hands raised to gesture the event, “I ran head first into a dunk tank, back when the circus had one. Made such a mess….”

A loud guffaw wheezed out of your poor damaged throat before you could open the water bottle in hand, “You did ---what?!”

Harlequin quickly joined you for a shared laugh, continuing his strangely intimate story regarding the blue mystery sauce. A pleasant aura seemed to share the space as you two held a normal conversation without scathing comebacks and harsh ribbing.

You admittedly hadn’t known the green menace very long but you figured you had him pegged. Part of the reason you sassed Harlequin every chance you got was because he DID get to you. A feat far scarier than any of the shows currently playing in The Freak Circus. Even on the day you both met, how Harlequin cornered you in his tent. Emerald gaze digging so deep, knowing with certainty that you liked how his voice curved against your ear like a tongue. How good he smelled.

It didn’t help that his usual black and gold cape was draped on a nearby chair. Because of this, the entire night you had a much better view of his body and he for sure noticed you staring. How the muscles of his chest and back, rolled underneath the finely made costume would gently peak through whenever he moved. And boy did he move.

As much as you hated to admit it, Harlequin was hot.

Worse so, he knew it.

Even worse so, he knew YOU knew it.

Despite your fighting attraction for him, there was something about Harlequin that hooked you like a fish on a lure. Right now, when he was talking to you as a person rather than a means to an end. It was…

….Something else.

Echoes of laughter neatly obscured the passage of time for you both until a yawn brought you both back into reality.

“Oh…it’s gotten that late, has it? Too bad,” Harlequin wistfully lamented, the truth of his words surprising even himself.

“Guess so,” you yawned once more. “We should do this again some time.”

“Unquestionably! In fact, I have a nice, big ripe jalapeño pepper in my tent that I’m sure you’d enjoy~”

You squinted at him, “That better not be a euphemism.”

“~You’ll have to come over soon and find out~,” he teased with a slight, but real chuckle. “Speaking of which.”

Tired eyes attempted to blink away the temptation to sleep until something bright, small, and shiny suddenly obscured your vision. In front of you was a green ticket held by the grinning clown himself. Teeth still as sharp as his mind as he continued to speak in that playful sing-song tone used whenever he wanted to brag about something.

“Your prize, my dear,” he said while waving the ticket in front of you. “It was a valiant effort, truly, but a deal’s a deal. Now, you have to do anything I want.”

The clown’s old deriding chuckle returned, “ ~Oh how I just can’t wait to see you at the circus~”

You blinked at him.

“But…I didn’t lose our bet.”

“Huh?”

Harlequin tilted his head in confusion, wondering for a moment if you were, shockingly, trying to weasel your way out of this. A surprising trait for you, not for your kind. The clown pegged you as someone who stuck by their words and actions no matter what. So at first, in rare form, he wasn’t sure what to say. Though his green eyes narrowed suspiciously at your hesitation.

“The terms of our bet were as follows,” you smirked while gently shaking the still unopened water bottle in his face. “If I withstood even one of your two ‘special’ hot sauces without needing a single drop of water, then I’d win.”

A cat-like grin spread even further along your face while witnessing the rusted gears slowly turning in Harlequin’s head. Oh yes, for that last, horrible, sauce you drank you hadn’t used any water to cool down, but instead….ice cream. His vermillion irises seemingly shake in his dark eyes as he realized this. Suddenly, your hesitation this whole time to open the bottle he so desperately salvaged for you made sense. What a shrewd strategy. The clown now eyed you with what seemed to be a new found respect; he had underestimated you, a rare mistake. How interesting.

Though this revelation only momentarily distracted The Harlequin from the real reason you were grinning so widely.

“Merda,” he rasped with slightly wider eyes.

“Can’t wait to see you AND Pierrot tomorrow, should be fun~,” your voice mimicking his own sing-song cadence from earlier. The sound felt like nails on a chalkboard to him; and people called his kind ‘the devil.’

Though before the clown could answer, you gently plucked the green ticket still held in his hand with a shrug. Head tiling once more as he looked at you, baffled for the second time that day.

While examining the small piece of paper in hand, you then met his eyes with a gentle, sheepish smile.

“I’ll still need admission to get in; already used my last few tickets up,” you reasoned while admiring the way his gift shined under the florescent lights. “Plus, todayactually was fun. You’re a pretty cool guy once you get past all the barbed wire.”

He stared blankly, almost reverently, as you continued.

“It was nice, you know, seeing you act human for once.”

Ah.

“Well of course,” he replied, teeth catching the light of the café while turning away from you for the first time that night. “How else would I act?

Strangely enough, the feeling of victory didn’t swell within The Harlequin in the way expected. He should be reveling in the fact that you finally accepted his ticket, even planned to use it at the circus tomorrow. Really, he should be fantasizing about the devastation Pierrot would fall into after seeing you with green instead of red, but that’s not what was happening. At least not at this very moment, not for him.

For some reason, the atmosphere felt odd again.

You stared at The Harlequin who now stood near with a slightly shadowed gaze. Toothy smile now wider even when sauntering over to his draped cloak. Without a word he folded the fine piece of cloth neatly in his arms before speaking again.

“But you’re right,” his voice grew wide while bending down to pick up a small bag he previously brought, placing a few of his sauces inside, “it was fun.”

Suddenly it felt like you’d taken two steps forward and one step back with this guy.

“Here, let me help you with that—,” you began.

The clown’s head suddenly tilted towards you, “Oh, so eager to assist someone like me, huh? Why is that? Careful, now, what would that Pierrot think~”

For some reason the winter air from the outside almost felt like it crept up on you, causing goosebumps to pimple.

“What are you talking about? Who cares about that?”

He didn’t answer right away, choosing to pack each bottle as carefully as possible. The clinking of the glass containers against one another being the only sound for a while. Despite wanting to help, you felt as though a barrier had been set-up between you two again. A distance only breached when laughing about sauces and dunk tanks.

“You know,” you began carefully as he finished packing, “I really did enjoy hanging out today.”

He smiled, one that was no less wide than usual but not as long.

“Of course.”

Frustration and confusion forced you into silence as you watched him walk towards the door. The bells of his hat making a sound far too festive for the current mood of the room.

“I hope to see you tomorrow night, dearest, and do try to wear my pin. It would be quite….fitting….if you would,” he then stood by the exit with a slight bow and left.

The differences between the two of you could have started in medical books and continued in folklore. It was the way of things for as long The Harlequin could remember. A night where you shared one laugh. And one bit of fun with a human hardly mattered in the grand scheme of things. Your kind were weak, cowardly, children who could barely live past the ripe young age of eighty. It was ridiculous to entertain any ideas of closeness when it’d all just get ripped away within a decade or four. Such was this cruel mistress called life.

Yet still, as Harlequin walked along the street looking back towards the dark alley where the silent clown likely waited, a slight worry began to form inside.

The Harlequin wondered, with a frown, if he’d end up seeing you at the circus far sooner than expected. Before you’d ever get the chance to use his ticket. If so, it’s not like the green clown hadn’t expected this. If anything, that was one of his goals this night, to get The Pierrot so desperate that he’d have to act sooner rather than later. Have to take you before his vermillion clad rival could. An act that would ironically push you right into Harlequin’s waiting embrace.

An embrace he was now hesitant to provide. Tonight had been…unexpected. Harlequin couldn’t remember the last time he let loose like that, laughed truly and openly as though he hadn’t a care in the world. A feeling not known since the halcyon days of his youth. It was weak, it was sickening. He never felt so disgusted with himself.

A ping of a reminder that this was all a game blared like an alarm in his head in that a moment: you were an unfortunate pawn caught in this twisted game. The thought helped bring him back to reality, yet the weight of this knowledge was almost crushing.

Despite the foreign ache, now deep in his chest at the idea of it, Harlequin knew:

His victory was assured.

-----------------------------------------

A/N: OOOOOKAYYY!!

So before anything, there are two jokes I 'referenced' here for this fic (Though one i had permission to use). The bit about the hot sauce being 'baby formula' is from the TV show Parks and Rec and the amazing knock knock joke about dicks is from the incredibly talented writer (both on tumblr and a03) known as @rocksinmuffin who graciously allowed me to use it here!

Special thanks to @local-shrub for beta readingggg!

(also i'm sorry if i wrote harlequin so weird here guys, i'm not good w/ him i think idkkkk)

Whooo! Harlequin is a PAIN to write though. You can tell by the fact that this entire fic is based on the teeeensy bit of info we got from @nekoboydreams (the creator of the game) saying that Harlequin likes spicy/savory food. The thing is??? I do too. Like a LOT. Like I actually do snack on Jalapeños like the MC here. Truthfully, this MC is based a loooooot on my own humor and how i act around people. I'm a SASSING MACHINE XD so i'm not sure if Harlequin would either fall in love with me, wanna be best bros, or straight up hate me but whatev.

This whole fic was based on the idea, when playing the game The Freak Circus for the first time, where I said to myself (regarding Harlequin):

"MAAAAAAN do I wanna SASS this guy so bad."

Like so bad.

Like in many yandere games I do pick the snarky options which almost never work out but i guess i'd like to think harley would have 'some' fun w/ it.

So yeah, idk if Harlequin and I are soul mates or whatever, but yeah……yeeeeeeaaaah…..Funnily enough there was a cut scene from this fic where the MC would call him 'Harley':

He chortled with a less than amused grin, "Don't call me Harley."

"Don't take my water, bitch."

In this scenario Harlequin actually tossed the MC's water bottle to the side of the cafe in that last scene but I thought it was honestly a little 'too' mean of him. esp. since he's trying to win the MC over. so yeah lol

APOLOGIES IF HARLEQUIN IS SUPER OOC IN THIS STORY I'M SO SORRRRYYYYY!! I REALLY HAVE TROUBLE UNDERSTANDING HIM BUT I ALSO MADE THE MC HAVE TROUBLE WITH IT TOO SO I HOPE THAT WORKS OUT.

REad taGs

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