Chapter Text
Pierrot really didn't know why he'd flipped himself belly-up. He did not trust Harlequin. Safety and trust were far from the same. He stared up at that almost hesitant expression and he wanted to pin him down on the floor and question him until he spilled every secret he'd been keeping since Columbina was so brutally taken away.
He did not do any of that. He supposed Jester would favor a tentative peace.
For that reason, he decided not to kick him out, even as he was mocked. It did stop sooner than usual, at least, as Harlequin switched between staring not-so-subtly at him and glaring up at the ceiling.
"You love him, then?" Surely another trap for him to walk into.
"Of course."
"Why?"
How could he not? He was kind, he was lovely. What more did people want? What more could Harlequin want? If Harlequin did not want Andrey, then why was he so determined to take him?
"He's a good person."
"There are a million good people. Why him?"
Pierrot didn't answer that. It felt insulting.
"Why should you like to know?"
Harlequin shot him that venomous glare. "Because I'm curious, Pierrot. You think I'm trying to get a copy of the guy? Trust me, if there were someone out there you'd actually enjoy the company of, I'd have served them up long ago for your favor."
What the hell did that mean?
"Honestly, how are you so hard to please? You're the goddamned golden boy of the whole troupe. Jester would kill themselves for you, you know that? Bil's the only one who doesn't adore you, and you'd rather leash and collar yourself to a barista none of us fucking know. You're pathetic!" He spat it out that time. What had brought all this on? The insults were a little less personal usually.
"And you'd hate the whole goddamned world if he got a scratch, like you could ever protect a stupid human! He's smart to stay away, you know-" Pierrot just about bit his face off at that. "-cause your sorry ass sure won't help him stay safe!"
"Why should you care?" He sat up, snapping.
"Why should you? He offers you nothing! You want a replacement for Columbina, is that it? 'Cause if you want an owner, Jester's right there, and Doc's just about the best you can get if you're hoping for safety!"
A replacement for Columbina, that was the line that did Harlequin in. Stupid irritating man. Pierrot leaped on him, mask slipping off as he bared his teeth. Harlequin grinned. "Defensive already? C'mon, they trained you better than that!"
A punch connected with Harlequin's face, louder than either of them expected. There was that same stunned silence after, the kind of quiet they'd found themselves falling into more often.
Harlequin's hand was at the back of his neck, he realized, carding through hair while he was distracted. He growled, only for it to be met with a quiet laugh. "There ya go, that's how it's done. None of that gentle bullshit, huh?"
Gentle bullshit, that was what he called relaxing? Pierrot ought to knock the guy out.
Harlequin didn't make any move to get out from under him. "Didn't realize you still had it in you." That hand again, scratching at his scalp. He swatted it away. "Aw, too forward?"
What the fuck was he doing? "What'd you snag from Doctor?"
…
Harlequin burst out laughing. "This is just me, man! Didn't realize it was so out of character," he snickered. "What's different? I think I'm rude to you plenty." It was true, but this was ridiculous. Nonsensical rambling. He never mentioned Columbina.
"What the fuck are you trying to do?" He hissed.
"Get your attention, Pierrot! You're so boring when you're not upset!" He giggled almost wildly as he spoke. Ridiculous, embarrassing. Pierrot watched with rapt attention.
"You won't even give me the time of day! Honestly, do you realize how hard it is to win you over? Are you so spoiled with attention you don't even recognize a goddamned attempt to communicate?" An attempt to communicate, is that what this was? Sounded more like an attempt to start a screaming match (unsuccessful at that, Pierrot had been trained well.)
"Everyone here loves you, you moron, it's annoying. And not a lick of it back!"
He stared at Harlequin. How was one to respond? "You mean to imply I should aim my affections toward the circus rather than Andrey?"
"I mean to imply, Pierrot, that you're miserably oblivious and I fucking hate you for it."
"Oblivious to what?" He could hardly even tell why he was upset now. The conversation was certainly not about Andrey.
"I killed her because I care for you, you goddamn pest. I don't care if you'll never forgive me, but you had better get that through your thick skull."
There were just about a million ways he could respond to that. If he had truly cared, she would be alive. If he cared still, he'd leave the whole troupe. All that was to say that he didn't believe Harlequin, not a lick of what he said. "A bold lie."
"Believe me for once in your life," Harlequin hissed, and then he surged upward and kissed Pierrot hard enough to bruise.
Jester was right about him being poisonous. His goddamned silver tongue was so bitter it made him want to heave, curling around his teeth. He didn't really push him away, more curious than offended. It was an overstep. At least it felt like a natural progression.
He did pull back finally, shoving Harlequin away. He scrambled up from the floor, staring wide-eyed.
…
"Harle-"
"I'm sorry. I'll go."
He stumbled out the door.
What the hell was that supposed to be? He laid back, looking up.
He didn't enjoy it, he decided. Too bitter and too sudden. And it was Harlequin, after scolding him and demeaning him and confessing to an unpleasant number of inner thoughts. At least, he assumed that's what all that was.
He was on for his show soon enough. He didn't want to go.