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He was a trapeze artist.
The angel had been watching him for a long time.
He would enter the circus tent and watch the boy as he practiced his routines, swinging on the trapeze and elegantly moving, as smooth and clean as silk being wrapped around the swing, letting go and hanging off it looking so serene as if he had no fears.
The angel thought that if he breathed like humans did, he would have difficulty doing so whenever he watched him. Even after he’d seen the boy dance on the trapeze so many times and never once seen him fall or lose his balance, he worried when he saw him let go of the swing completely sometimes, only to see him get back on it just fine moments later, as if nothing had happened.
He’d performed many routines, and the angel had seen all of them. He’d seen him transform into a swan, a phoenix, a butterfly. The costumes he’d worn each time had looked more intricate and colourful, but the angel thought that he didn’t need all those ridiculous accessories to bewitch the audience. The boy was already beautiful on his own, his features soft and elegant and his body angular and agile, yet also strong, with prominent muscles as he danced on the trapeze and supported his entire weight with one arm as he hung from it effortlessly.
The angel watched him wrap his fingers around the swing and grip it tightly and longed to take it into his and hold it like that. His lean fingers bended beautifully as they took hold of the rope or of the seat and tightened around it, the muscles in his arms contracting as he slid down the trapeze and dangled over the ground, and yet his face and the rest of his features were calm and peaceful, undisturbed and still soft as he posed, one leg bending into a retiré position and holding his other arm up, fingers pointing up elegantly and looking into the top of the tent. His eyes shone with such conviction however that he may as well have been looking into an endless sky.
And as soon as the pose had been taken, he’d snapped around and his other hand had gripped the seat as well. He swung back and forth and then spun around on the trapeze until he was upside down, supporting himself on his arms with his legs in the air. Slowly, he spread them apart until his feet were wrapped around the ropes of the trapeze. The angel’s eyes were fixed on the acrobat as he let go of the swing and hung like that, arms and head thrown back.
There were moments when the angel wanted to reveal himself to the boy and hold him. He imagined him in that same position but this time in his arms. He’d tried it once, hugged the acrobat as he’d been still on the trapeze. He hadn’t been able to tell if the boy had registered his presence, but his body had relaxed suddenly and he’d let out a breath as if he was calming down.
Since that day, the angel thought that the acrobat knew he was there sometimes.
He couldn’t explain why, since humans shouldn’t be able to feel him when he was around them unless he wanted them to, but there were times where he thought the boy was looking at him before a difficult stunt, like he was asking the angel to protect him in case it went wrong.
And while the angel had never seen him stumble or falter, he sent him a promise even though the boy couldn’t hear it that he would catch him if he ever did.
That night, the acrobat was performing a new routine. The angel had seen him practice it from the first day, but it was always different when it was in front of the audience who came to watch the circus and under the lights that shone on him.
The angel stood on the ground underneath where he knew that trapeze was going to be lowered soon, carrying the beautiful acrobat so he could perform the routine. The previous act was leaving the stage as the audience applauded for them, but the angel hadn’t been watching them and didn’t know what it had been. He only had eyes for one act when he came to the circus.
“And now for our next act,” the presenter of the show announced, holding his arms up, “Descending from the sky, our circus’s own angel!”
The crowd cheered as the man left the stage. Melodic music rang through the tent and the lights softened until only one remained, fixed on the top of the tent where the angel could see the acrobat sitting on the trapeze. He was wearing pure white, the clothes tight and figure-fitting, accentuating his lithe and ethereal form. Around the top’s collar and around the rest of the clothes, silver gems and beads had been stitched onto it, and as the light caught as he was lowered down on his trapeze they shimmered and made it look like he was clothed in starlight.
Finishing his appearance was a pair of white feathered wings strapped to his back.
The angel watched him mesmerised as he began his routine. He started with small movements at first, his hands occasionally going to his back and running through the wings he was wearing. Then he swung the trapeze and lifted his body off the seat. He took various poses as it moved back and forth over the circus audience.
One could easily be fooled that he was flying.
The angel had never felt a stronger urge to reveal himself that he had at that moment. He couldn’t take his eyes off of the acrobat and his performance until the light that was following the trapeze shone onto the other side of the tent where another identical swing was placed, tied up as it wasn’t being used.
Without thinking of the consequences of what he was about to risk, the angel flapped his wings and flew to the platform. He undid the ties that were holding the trapeze and gripped the seat tightly in his hands. He muttered a short incantation and revealed himself, still hidden from the audience but now completely visible to anyone who would see him.
Decisively, he pushed the trapeze forward as the acrobat swung in his direction. He had never done this before, but his wings would save him if he fell and he had seen the boy do it multiple times.
He felt his body get carried through the air and heard the audience gasp as he appeared. He paid them no mind. His attention was elsewhere.
The acrobat saw him too, and for a moment the angel worried that he would panic and fall.
But he didn’t.
He looked calm as he approached him, reaching his hand out to touch him, and the angel did the same. Their hands met as they met, fingers briefly brushing against each other before their swings separated them, sending them to the other side of the circus tent.
Turning around and flapping his wings, the angel pushed it in the direction he’d come from to meet the acrobat again.
Although they’d never consciously been in the same space before, when they met again they were so familiar with each other that it didn’t matter.
The angel had seen him practice this routine so many times that he knew what moves the boy was going to make and he knew how to blend in with it so he wouldn’t ruin the routine and cause the audience to speak badly of the acrobat.
They danced together that night in the air, one real angel and one in the costume of one, as if they were high in heaven. They met when their swings came close, connected when the acrobat leapt off his trapeze and into the angels waiting arms and pulled apart again when he returned to his original one, all without any fear of falling. They became one under the spotlight and the audience cheered for them, but they ignored it all.
In those few moments they weren’t but two entities, not humans, not angels, not anything, just two beings existing, flying, dancing, coming together as if they had been fated to become one.
The angel allowed himself to really feel the acrobat’s body this time whenever he held him. He lifted him and touched him and supported him and felt the closest to how he imagined humans did when their hearts beat quickly. His essence, his grace, was glowing inside him, spreading a light that was probably blending with the spotlight and not visible to the humans.
He saw the acrobat’s face up close again and memorised every detail of it, from the shapes of his eyes to the curve of his lips and the edges of his face.
When the music ended they were on the same trapeze, the acrobat in the angel’s arms, looking at him fascinated. They posed for the audience and heard them applaud and cheer loudly, not understanding what had been a planned part of the show and what hadn’t been.
The trapeze was lifted once more until they were out of view and the acrobat guided him down the stairs of the platform so they could leave before the circus manager could find them and question what had happened.
The angel was led to a caravan. There were others around the tent, but he already knew that this one belonged to the acrobat, having seen him enter it multiple times.
There weren’t many belongings inside, a few plants, clothes, a device for listening to music and an old bed. The acrobat was still in his stage outfit as he pulled him inside and closed the door behind them.
As they stood in the caravan, the angel expected him to ask him questions, who he was, how he’d suddenly appeared, why he’d interrupted his routine.
But he didn’t.
He simply pressed his soft lips to his.
The angel returned the kiss. He had seen humans do this before and never understood it, but this time was different. He caressed the acrobat’s pillowy lips with his own, took them in his own gently and tugged at them with a passion he could only explain as love.
When he pulled away, the acrobat reached up and touched his face, stroking it with care and tracing his features.
His gaze fixed on his as he guided the angel to his bed and sat down on it, pulling him down with him afterwards.
Wordlessly, he traced the angel’s neck, arms and torso. The angel reached out for him and did the same, moving to his back and running his hands up the clothed body until they met the fake wings and stopped.
The acrobat leaned back, and his hands went to the straps around his shoulders, tugging at them and pulling the wings off, letting them fall onto the bed.
“I’m Jimin,” he said softly, his voice clear like water and like soft velvet to the angel’s ears.
“Jungkook,” the angel replied.
Jimin stretched his arm out so he could touch his shoulder, searching for something.
He looked confused when he didn’t find it and his hand trailed down his back.
He stopped when he found the spot where his back ended and his wings began.
Jungkook saw the moment when realisation dawned on the acrobat and his eyes widened.
His hand moved past his back and onto the white feathers of the wings. Jungkook wouldn’t allow anyone this type on contact under different circumstances. An angel’s wings were sacred and touching them was intimate and only reserved for other beings as holy as them. But he allowed Jimin to do so, to run his fingers through the feathers and caress them.
Neither of them spoke.
Finally, Jungkook stood up and, tilting the acrobat’s head up, gave him one last kiss and muttered a blessing against his lips before pulling away.
Jimin sat with his eyes closed as he walked to the door of the caravan and opened it. He spared the human one last glance before concealing himself once more and, with a flap of his wings, he was gone.
He didn’t know if he would ever see him again.
Revealing himself to a human was strictly forbidden unless the human was in desperate need, and Jungkook didn’t know what consequences he would face upon his return to heaven.
His brothers and sisters feared overstepping the rules, afraid of what would happen to them if they did. There were stories among them of pain, of fire, of suffering, of expulsion from heaven for such behaviour.
As he flew through the misty sky, however, Jungkook didn’t care about any of them.
He only cared about making it back to the circus grounds the next day so he could watch his acrobat dance on the trapeze again.