"Borrowed Time" Part 2 - TFC x Reader
Read part 1 here.
A/N: Well hello there. I've come with another update, as I'm turning this into a series. The story will mostly follow the development of Jester x Reader but the reader is in an established relationship with Pierrot and Harlequin. Maybe the other two will join the polycule. Who knows ;)
Warnings: None. This chapter is disgustingly fluffy. I didn't know I had it in me.
~
You awoke to nothing unusual.
Pierrot was in bed with you as always, dressed head-to-toe in his red pajamas. It appeared you had changed clothes too, although you had no recollection of it. Pierrot must've undressed you and put you in something more comfortable of his to wear.
You rolled over and felt a rush of blood to your head, causing it to swell. The pain irritated a nerve you were crushing as you slept. All of your muscles were tense. Carefully, you stretched, popping stiff joints and awakening your limbs all at once.
Pierrot stirred beside you. The tent was dark except for the hints of sunlight peaking through tiny holes in the fabric. Pierrot must not have been wearing his mask, for you felt the brush of his velvety skin against your shoulder.
He inhaled deeply and hummed as he exhaled, evidently satisfied.
Your quiet mornings with him made it easy to forget that beyond the walls of the tent, you were constantly being watched. The persistent eyes that fell upon you made it impossible to relax, be they the Fools spying on you or one of the circus troupe members. Sometimes, an expectant audience member or two would wait for you to perform something for them if you were in proximity to one of the cast. You found it unusual, for you never wore a uniform. It was like the universe was telling you that you belonged in the circus.
Regardless, in this early period of living with them, you preferred to linger beyond the realm of the stage, even though Harlequin had dragged you up there against your will once or twice.
Your thoughts drifted to him.
Did he know that Jester threatened you again? Did Pierrot tell him?
You shuddered, thinking of all the ways Harlequin could respond. Your relationship with him had grown stronger since you learned what they truly are. When you neither beat him nor shunned him for his existence, he became curious. That curiosity led to evenings spent under the canopy of night, hours after the show talking and teasing and pushing each other onto convenient surfaces.
Pierrot didn't like any of it. Whenever he found you smelling like Harlequin, he would fizzle like the fuse of a cannon. You swore if he were a cat, his fur would be raised in a bristling threat.
The early days between you three were the most difficult, trying to teach Pierrot the meaning of the word "restraint".
Until, one day, the two of them went too far in their rivalry, and Jester intervened. Except his attempt to intervene was simply to offer to kill you and be done with it all.
That ended poorly.
Pierrot was in the throes of rage against Harlequin when Jester threatened your life, and it took you and Harlequin both to return him to his senses. Restraining him was a paltry effort, but reminding him of Columbina was no small feat. The mention of her name with the words "She wouldn't want to see you like this" were enough to halt his claws before they dug into Jester's throat.
Everyone was shocked.
You had learned from novels and movies never to play your hand too soon. Knowing of Columbina, knowing their relationship to her... that was dangerous, and the final nail in your coffin.
The rest was history.
Harlequin slammed Jester with a threat of his own, that he'd "break his own playthings" or something capricious like that. You knew he didn't mean it, and said it only to get Jester off his trail. Jester's expression at the time told you he didn't believe it.
Pierrot was worse for wear. He took Jester's threats personally, and the pain of having someone you love threaten you, even indirectly, shattered the corners of trust he had for his kin.
Jester must have sensed the danger of losing that trust, because he quickly recovered and posed an offer.
You would stay with the circus until deemed not a threat. If you made one wrong move or ran away before that time, your life was forfeit.
Oddly, Harlequin was the one who objected to it. Pierrot, however, agreed immediately, having full confidence in your innocence. He promised to protect you, even if you did something wrong. Reassuring as his words were, they did not quell the unease that stirred in your heart.
The sharp nicks of teeth pulled you from your thoughts. Pierrot was gnawing at your skin without actually breaking it.
You giggled and flung your arms around him, hugging him tight.
He practically purred in return, enjoying the sweet sound of your voice.
"Does my darling not enjoy my teeth?" he asked coyly.
You could see a glint of mischief in his eyes despite the darkness. They always glowed subtly, like an animal's. His pupils were wide and shining like harvest moons at dusk.
You leaned in and kissed him on the lips, careful not to move too fast. He could see you perfectly well, but that was a privilege of the supernatural. Ordinary humans would have to feel their way through the darkness, pressing on in hope of reaching the light.
What lightness of heart you found in kissing Pierrot.
However, it didn't last. When you parted from him, he put his hand on your waist to keep you pinned to the bed.
He never liked when you grew distant. It was a hex upon his nerves. Why did you have to retreat when you could just tell him everything? He would never judge you.
Although he knew what was troubling you, he waited for you to speak.
It took you a minute of holding back tears before you were able to confess:
"I don't want to do this anymore."
Instantly, he panicked, rising from the bed and hovering over you. He cradled your cheeks in his large palms.
"W-what!?" he stammered. "You can't say that! I can't lose you. You know the dangers out there and..."
"That's precisely it. Do you know how it feels to constantly be watched? For a mistake? Just so they can justify hurting you," you trailed off. A distant scene in a mirror flashed in your mind, and your heart sunk to your stomach. Of course.
Pierrot's expression fell downcast.
"I do know."
The room was silent.
You felt one hand slide down your chin and over your heart. His claws trailed lines across your raised flesh.
"I am sorry, my love."
Pierrot drooped and pressed his ear to your heart, listening to its fast but steady rhythm.
"I'm sorry," he apologized again and was about to do so a third time when you cut him off.
"Why are you apologizing?" you questioned him. You placed your dominant hand in his hair and combed your fingers through the ashen tresses.
He stirred but did not leave your breast.
"I caused this. And I confess, you have every right to blame me. I pursued you and coveted you. I brought you into this mess and forced you to risk your life to be here," he whimpered, hands shaking, "to be with me... even if you don't love me as I love you, I did this to you."
You let him finish before disputing with him.
"Pierrot," you began, "you didn't force me to be here."
It wasn't completely true, but it wasn't a lie, either.
"I also chose to be here. I value my life, as anyone else, but I also value you. I do love you. I wouldn't be here if I didn't," you smiled at him as he lifted his head, brows lifted and jaw agape.
"You love me?" he prodded.
You let out an amused huff.
"Of course, I love you."
You said it as if it were the simplest thing in the world. It never felt that easy to him.
Pierrot's love for you was all-consuming. It bled him like Cupid's arrow, and pierced his heart each time he looked upon your face. Did your love feel the same?
You didn't know how to effectively display your love for Pierrot. Words always felt cheap in comparison to actions. Yet actions alone never felt like enough.
Wait. Actions.
Up until now, you'd been trying to win over the Circus with your actions, rather than with words.
Humans could be swayed with words even when your actions proved otherwise. You noted this particular trait in Pierrot as well.
He treated you well, of course, but you recalled the days before your relationship. He stalked you excessively in those days, and once, when he had the audacity to waltz through your front door as if he hadn't been climbing through your window, you cracked.
Embarrassingly, the pretty words he said to get you to understand his reasons for stalking you did appease you enough to hear him out. That night ended in getting pinned to your bed and licked all over if you recalled correctly.
Pierrot's posture shrunk as you stared at him, accepting your absent stare for consternation.
"My dear?" He ventured. "Are you mad at me?"
You broke from your thoughts and cupped his face, eagerly brushing your thumbs against sharp cheekbones.
"I just told you I love you and you think I'm mad at you," a smile parted your lips and your eyes crinkled with amusement.
"Well, you were just staring at me like that and... Oh, my darling, please don't be mad at me!" He buried his face in your chest and you laughed aloud.
Light poured into the tent opposite the privacy screen and a lilting voice drifted through the room.
"Still in bed? Don't tell me you two started getting frisky without me," Harlequin teased as he turned the corner. He was fully dressed for another day of handing out fliers.
Pierrot lifted his head long enough to hiss at Harlequin and then returned it to your bosom.
You lay there giggling, mirth in your eyes, disheveled hair from your tousling with Pierrot, a slight rasp in your throat from having recently awoken.
Harlequin thought you were the most beautiful creature in the world.
He approached the bed and flopped down on Pierrot, who was more or less on top of you. The effect was crushing, and you protested when they started warring for space. The territory dispute ended when you yelled at them.
"One on each side or else I'm gonna ignore you both for the rest of the day!"
Harlequin moved to your left and Pierrot slunk to your right.
The former bared his teeth in a flashy grin.
"You couldn't ignore me if you tried, gostosa."
Harlequin's term of endearment for you was followed by a bite to your shoulder.
"Ow!" You reached out and grabbed his face, pushing him off as he laughed like a maniac.
"Stop biting me, asshole!"
Pierrot growled but neither of you paid attention. Harlequin was enjoying riling the both of you. He could hear the grin in your voice even as you pushed him away. He licked the spot he bit and quickly his tongue made a tour towards your vulnerable throat.
A shiver of pleasure coursed through your veins. His tongue found the fragile skin around your ear. By now, he was just asking for trouble.
Pierrot's competitiveness urged him to dip beneath the covers.
You came to your senses and stopped them.
"Wait. Not right now. I'm sorry, it's just— I'm not—," you felt your reasons deflate with their stares. How could you tell them that you were afraid of disappointing them? Jester's words yesterday were harsh. Their lasting power made it difficult for you to relax enough to enjoy the pleasure you'd no doubt receive.
The tongue at your throat pulled away. Harlequin spoke first.
"It's alright. You don't have to explain it to us. Although I will make you come to my show tonight to make it up to me," he teased.
You paused.
How much did he know?
Assuming you were going to ask, Harlequin interjected.
"Pierrot told me what happened. I can't say I'm much better, always cornering you to mess with you, but what Jester did was shitty," he explained, sneering at the end of his sentence. Yet within his words, you could hear a hint of self-deprecation that was utterly unlike him. Did he always secretly compare himself to others? Did he truly believe himself to be so cruel?
"Hey, you wouldn't have said things like that. You're too nice for that," you turned your head to look at him. Your nose brushed his face due to your close proximity. He jerked away, not because of your accidental touch, but due to your unexpected words of comfort.
He guffawed, "Me? Nice? Maybe you hit your head a little too hard."
You remembered the bump on your hairline suddenly, reaching up to touch the tender bruise. Pierrot pulled your hand away before you could.
"Doctor said to leave it alone," he murmured. You yielded to his fussing and intertwined your fingers with his to keep you from touching it anymore.
Harlequin watched your face contort in worry. Jester truly affected you. A jealous part of him disliked how someone other than himself was cause for your expressiveness. Those expressions should have been reserved for him alone. If he believed Jester had romantic or sexual intentions toward you, he might understand wanting to get under your skin. After all, it was where he enjoyed being the most.
In a sense, Harlequin believed you belonged to him. You consumed his mind, eating away the hours with thoughts of you. Within the Circus, Harlequin had the most free time, often due to rushing through his duties. Thus, he spent the remaining hours of the day watching you from afar. In the past, he might have wasted time with a Fool, or a would-be Fool. But the intimacy was never there. It was always a transaction. He got off, and the other got to keep their life for a little while longer.
Intimacy meant nothing to him until you arrived. He was reminded of his youth, his suffocating, irksome timidness. Intimacy was uncharted territory. You were too patient with him. And now you were stuck with him for good. He could bite you for interrupting his "cool guy" act.
Furthermore, he worried about you, but refused to show it so openly. Thankfully his mask of brusque indifference didn't fool you or Pierrot anymore. It was obvious that with Harlequin, actions spoke louder than words.
"You're gonna be fine. Don't overdo it today. Otherwise I'm pretty sure Doc and dipshit here will chain you to the bed if you get too rowdy, not that I'd complain~," he teased with a sing-song air.
You gripped Pierrot's hand tighter to keep him from hitting Harlequin for the insult. A full-time job, those two.
You stretched your legs and wriggled. They gave you room to move and you nudged Pierrot to get up. He did so and pulled you with him. Harlequin protested to Pierrot when you were removed from his side.
"Hey! I was using that," he nagged. You rolled your eyes and moved around the bed to where he sat. You leaned down and squinted at him.
"Gimme a kiss and I'll forgive you for implying I'm some sort of thing," you chided.
He smirked.
"But you are," he captured your lips before you could retreat. His tongue wove its way into your mouth and you moaned. Your head began to swim when suddenly, he was gone, or rather you were. Pierrot wrapped a large hand around your waist and pulled you back. His broad chest pressed against your back and he growled.
Harlequin, sighing in defeat, kicked his legs into the air before landing in a theatrical stance.
"Aaand, that's my cue to leave. But don't think I won't see you later, sweetheart. You owe me one, remember? See you at my show tonight," he winked and exited with a bow.
~
After both you and Pierrot were dressed and prepared for the day, he lingered with you and found ways to accomplish his tasks without leaving your side.
You started in the costume tent, arranging, rearranging, and checking the well worn costumes for damage, of which there was always plenty. You'd have to speak to the Ticket Taker about reducing the amount of gruesome acts the Fools fell victim to doing. You didn't want to see any more unnecessary deaths. Perhaps framing it as a financial burden to replace costumes would suffice as reason enough.
Pierrot caught your attention and mournfully announced that he needed to leave to get something. He'd come back immediately, he said, and you were not to do any heavy lifting or difficult labor while he was gone.
You smiled at him reassuringly, although a pit formed in your stomach due to your concern over being left alone and vulnerable. Nonsense, you told yourself, you were an adult. You had no reason to fear the monsters in the dark, even if they were real.
Pierrot left, not before glancing back twice, and the room became silent. Outside, you could hear birdsong. That alone comforted your nerves as you continued to work.
By five in the evening, you peaked your head out of the tent to search for your lover. He sent a text announcing his arrival. To your delight, he was returning with an array of flowers, fresh and vibrant red carnations.
Raising them to your eye-line, he smiled sweetly.
"Will these cheer you up, my darling?"
You took the bouquet into your arms. There was no fragrance but that of his cologne, not unlike the scent of roses. Your brow furrowed in confusion.
"Carnations are a surprise. Not roses, for once. Wait, aren't these funeral flowers in some countries?" You teased Pierrot.
Instantly, he flustered, his cheeks turning pink. How adorable!
Given his embarrassed state, his words came out in a stutter.
"My dear! I-it's not what you think! I swear, they were out of roses, otherwise I would've bought some for you, as you are most deserving of the most exquisite of flowers. Your radiance is beyond the—"
"Pierrot," you interrupted.
He visibly tensed, awaiting the final verdict. He was certain his sentence would be death! How could he be so foolish as to get you such an offensive flower.
"Pierrot, they're lovely."
The clouds parted, and Pierrot's smile beamed like a thousand stars. You embraced him with a giggle and kissed his jaw. He picked you up and twirled you around. The two of you spoke sweet nothings to each other under the remaining golden rays of the sun.
Beyond your line of sight, unbeknownst to either of you, a figure stood watching the saccharine moment unfold.
Another figure joined him, and glanced between Jester and the object of his judgement.
His impassive features revealed little, but his lingering gaze betrayed him to his closest companion.
The gentleman in the top hat smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling in curious amusement. Behind the mask, none of it was visible. Thankfully.
"They're afraid of you," the Ticket Taker remarked.
Jester straightened his posture.
"Good. They should be afraid of the unknown."
The man in blue crossed his fingers as he held his hands behind his back, an old habit begotten by years of half answers and elusive responses. Perhaps this time Jester would speak his mind, or rather his heart. It was plain to see the obsession on his face. The line between hatred and love was very thin, and crossing it meant tarrying the tides of emotion.
He did not think Jester could process that level of conflicting emotions alone, especially not when he decided long ago to vehemently despise humankind.
The Ticket Taker could understand, as he'd gone through the same ordeal as Jester and the rest of the troupe. But a century of working with the public allowed him a broader perspective. Humans were just as capable of good as they were of evil. He encountered patrons both kind and cruel, and despite the fatigue they wrought, his work satisfied him. It satisfied him to learn something of the creatures they devoured, and of those they didn't.
"There are many unknowns. Humans have a unique proclivity towards revealing the unknown, even at their own peril. In that sense... well, I suppose we're not much different. It was our own hunger, and not simply the hunger to satisfy our basest need, that proved to be our Achilles heel. Perhaps I can speak only for myself, but I hungered for knowledge in those days."
Jester looked at his companion from the corners of his eyes, assessing his meaning. His words were too well-placed to be mild chatter.
"It is rare to hear you speak of the past."
The Ticket Taker turned to face Jester, posture relaxed.
"Is it? I happen to have an old tent full of past memories."
"You know what I meant," Jester pointed out.
To that, he was met with a shrug.
Jester did not like what his friend was implying. He and the creature were not alike in any regard. Humans were food, but more than that, they were pests. He did not revel in eating the rats that infiltrated his domain, not unless they truly deserved to be eaten, preferably alive so they could squirm...
The Ticket Taker turned, saying, "Personally, I am pleased with the peace and quiet. Pierrot and Harlequin have been exceptionally well-behaved in the past weeks. I'd be remiss to look that gift-horse in the mouth."
Jester's face contorted into a unique expression. His friend huffed behind his mask, bemused at his leader's reaction. He promptly left without another word, walking in the direction of the front gates. The Circus of Horrors would open any minute, just as soon as the sun set beyond the horizon.
Jester stood alone again, astonished. And now, Bil was speaking in your defense?
He glanced back at the costume tent, but you and Pierrot had long disappeared into its glowing interior.
Tonight, he would do something about you. You would not take any more from him. Not his family, not his home, nothing at all. Of that, he was resolved.