Caution warning \\ Mild sensual themes
First meetings are tough, especially when he made the poor mistake of approaching you, “Care for a flyer?”
“I already have a ticket.”
“Oh was it a Pink one per chance?”
“Hm I think so? I wasn’t too sure, the red fellow gave it to me, hah.” He pauses, you now realize your mistake, with a sigh you begin to walk faster while he follows. This green bean of a harlequin was what Pierrot spoke of, except it was like a jalapeño who never stops being spicy!
“Listen here cardboard chest, I said what it is and ya ain’t convincing me otherwise. Don’t make me upset now, and that’s Mz Dear one to you!” Harlequin’s eyes widen, but he smiles even more due to how cute you sound to him, probably: the sight of a black person with a voice like yours, he can’t help but gush, he’s met many people of the diverse plains, metaphorically speaking, but to meet someone of your keen intellect and curiosity. How could he not indulge?
Time and time again, he has had moments of intimacy between other humans to forget his worries and darkest thoughts, upon meeting you, intimacy slowly ceased with strangers, you were a bit firm and colder than most.
Coldness stems from caution, he understands that, yet when the walls break down it was like watching vanilla ice cream melt. He was enamored by such beauty, the way your eyes blink in a way of garnered attention to his words, your hair being set in such a beautiful style.
You explained to him how a high puff was common but not unliked, rather loved amongst your community, but you also enjoy Bantu knots, Micro twists after a good big chop, or maybe just with the afro you had.
Moving on from the details of you both, there was the now, his birthday, he didn’t celebrate it that day but you did, he snuck over again during Pierrot’s nightshift, curiously sneaking around until you turn on the kitchen nightlight, two bowls of spicy buldok noodles appear before him, perfectly set with an egg, some cheese and a side of iced tea.
Harlequin sits, you join him, both of you ate in silence: the small sound of sniffling begins and slowly ends after your hand caresses his cheek, “….You may not forgive yourself or believe anyone would miss you, but that is scientifically impossible. There will always be someone who misses you, now, where is my mischievous Harlequin?”
Harlequin lets out a little chuckle, nuzzling the palm of your hand, small lingering kisses slowly press against your wrist, arm, shoulder, Harlequin would then stop when your lips almost meet, and for once you both desire intimacy beyond just desire.
As you begin cleaning the now finished up food, he was quick with touching your waist, nipping at your neck anxiously, his eyes were sharper, the sudden sensation of emotional affection left him craving more.
You as his dear one became the treasure of fascination, his body pinning yours, hands touching your skin as you both share long passionate kiss.
You could feel his skin burning, claws twitching under your neck, his tongue slipping within your mouth as he moves closer to feel that warmth you emit, and once he pulls back, he understood why he likes you so much. “Dear one…I want, to keep you.”
“I can’t be kept Harlequin…don’t be naive and mischievous.” Harlequin lays along your chest, asks for another kiss, it was cute, how he’s asking for more when you both knew the answer, but he still seeks consent. Once more you kiss, it felt like a wave of pleasure reaching for more, his body now below yours, your hands slide from his face to his shoulders. You’re kissing him, he’s kissing you, it felt so bizarre, even when he deepens the kiss to explore you.
Harelquin pulls away, now hugging you to his chest to take a breath, he didn’t even realize how much of your scent meant to him, he could smell the rosemary, a hint of chamomile tea, he touches you again, “Soft.” He mutters lightly.
You’re quiet, he knows you’re listening to his heartbeat, how fast it moves, how careful yet antsy he is when touching you. Sometimes you’re mind wanders and that feeling of the circus watching you always fades, but when it returns that desire to cling to Harlequin returns, and you feel overwhelmed.
“Harlequin, please know I would never intentionally hurt you…”
Harlequin nods but you need his words, “I need your affirmation, if I ever unintentionally hurt you. Intent doesn’t matter to me, the impact does. So please: tell me…you and I aren’t of the same species but we understand each other’s oppression and trauma.”
He nods again, covering his face to hide the now shedding tears again, he doesn’t make a sound but he does seek your comfort while uttering a tired, “I will.”
“My mischievous Harlequin, please don’t cry…” How can he not? He’s having such a wonderful late birthday and it feels unreal…
