Chapter Text
"You want one of my old jackets?"
Pierrot stood at the center of your room, nodding enthusiastically, small bells ringing with every shake.
You found a small chuckle escaping you before you could stop it. "You know it won't fit you, right big guy? What do you want it for?" Despite your questions, you still opened your closet digging through for an old hoodie.
"My dear, the nights are long without you, if I could just have a piece of you to take with me back to the circus to ease the cold nights without you."
You give a small huff and half-hearted eye roll. He was always so dramatic.
As you riffle through, you note a few missing pieces from your wardrobe, you absently think that they must be in the hamper, or they somehow found their way under your bed. At the far end, you find what you're looking for: an old hoodie that has seen its fair share of coffee stains.
"Here."
Once you handed it to him, he quickly held your hand. You saw the way his eyes lit up, turning into those little hearts he got when confessing his deep love for you. Red blush spread across his face.
"Thank you! I'll keep it close to my heart always. This small piece of you've given me. I will treasure it always my love."
Pierrot spiraled into a rant of his love for you. You found it adorable but a little off-putting as he went on riling himself up, so you gently brought your hands to the front of his mask or was it makeup? You still weren't sure about where his lips would be.
"Your welcome Pierrot. Seriously, it wasn't that big of a deal, and I'm happy that my old sweater could find a new home."
He melts at your touch nuzzling into your fingers. He seemed to vibrate with excitement at your touch more than normal, but you brush it off. Pierrot is always just a little bit extra when it comes to physical affection.
"Do you mind if I ask you for something?"
"Anything!" He was quick to answer. Looking at you expectantly.
"Do you think, since I gave you my jacket and all I mean, I know, you have already given me your pin but—"You stalled, you had no idea why a simple request was making you feel so nervous? "I could have one of your bells as a memento?"
In truth, you would have loved to have done a jacket exchange. But you weren't sure how much clothing Pierrot actually owned, and you would imagine traveling around meant anything he took with him was too precious to give away.
You watch his expression as he brings a hand to one of the bells on his outfit, and you already know his line of thinking.
"Wait, please don't mess up your outfit! Maybe you have a spare or one from an older outfit you can give me instead? I really don't want you to get in trouble."
He looks like he's pouting, sad that you wouldn't let him give you this one.
"You can give it to me the next time you visit."
At that, he perked up. "Next time?"
Yea, next time you come visit me, you can place it right in my hand. I'll be waiting."
Pierrot's fingers sink deeper into your jacket and his blush spreads farther. You miss it, but there is a glint of something dark behind his smile. He nods enthusiastically.
"I promise I'll bring you the shiniest bell, one that every time it rings, you can only think of me."
"Yea, I'll be waiting, big guy." You couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm. "I'm sorry to do this to you, but I have to head to bed soon. I've got an early day tomorrow."
"I understand my love good night and only the sweetest dreams for you."
He leaves through your second story balcony. A feat that you feel you'll never get used to honestly. You see him there waving goodbye from the sidewalk and you wave back. Off he goes into the darkness back to his circus.
Pierrot's claws sink into the soft material you've given him. The smell is divine your scent sunk deep into the very fibers. He pats himself on the back for holding off as long as he did. The caress of heat making its way down his spine like a lovers kiss. He wanted to ask you for something more, something different. He had wanted to ask if you would be mat-companion. He corrected himself for his rut. After all, it was the least you could do. It was your fault this happened. It was too soon, much too soon he hadn't had time to explain to you properly. But you would say yes he knew in your heart you were kind like that you'd do anything for him as he would for you.
He was panting. The scent of your hoodie was wonderful, truly wonderful. Only you yourself could compare! To be given such a gift freely, well, it made him so hard. Cherry was on top, though, you asked for something of his in return. Did you even know what that meant? A sign of courtship, of course, you had to know! Why else would you beg him for such a gift? The promise of next time he shuddered next time, you would take care of him, wouldn't you? After all, that's what you promised. The picture of you moaning writhing beneath him as you took him into your warmth. Drool escaped a bit from the corner of his mouth. He knew you could take him down to the hilt. Pulling himself from that train of thought, he needed to hold it together till he got back safely. Till he was back, free to make a little nest surrounded by all the other little trinkets he had of yours. He held his hoodie up to the moonlight watching it sway lightly in the wind. Thrill ran through him. This piece, the one you had given him freely, would be the crown jewel.
It was easy enough to slip past the entrance to his own tent. Jester had suggested that it might be best to "use" one of their many dolls to help ease him through it. He didn't want to. He wanted to save himself for you fully completely. It would be fine. All he needed was a small piece of yours for comfort. After all, you had given him so many other gifts. He could be good, he could wait. Moreover, you would be safe away from him if he lost control. Part of him thought it would be better this way, but thoughts of stealing you away and making a nest for the two of you swirled in his head. It was intoxicating. His nest awaited him, a fortress of pillows and sheets with a few things he had "borrowed" from you. He stuffed one of his pillows into your hoodie, turning it into a make-shift plush that held your scent. Something he could hold close and dream it was you.
He could feel it more now, the heat gnawing at his skin, the want, the craving deep in his bones. His mind, luckily, still had some sense he needed to undress before he ruined his outfit. First, his cap, scalp felt overheated enough as it his horns finally free from their fabric cage. Next, his gloves along with his shirt, the night air felt cool on his skin. Finally, his boots and pants, his cock still hard from his thoughts earlier. Tossing his clothes out of the way somewhere the future him could deal with and burying his face in your scent, pulling the pillow close, squeezing it tight. Nuzzling closer, a wave of heat made him tremble. It wouldn't be long now before he lost himself in his rut. He ran, a clawed hand down his chest, the tips slightly catching on his skin teasing his way to his cock. He thought of you of a scene not meant for his eyes but one he had seen nonetheless. The start of this whole mess.
He had only meant to visit that night when he heard your quiet moans through the glass. He could be kind we all had needs. He just wanted to see who was the one making you make those sweet noises. That's all nothing else. Yet he felt a familiar rage boil at the thought that it had been someone else. Instead, what he found was you alone riding that toy, desperate and wanting begging the air for more. A goddess, divine, a minx, so many words he could use to describe you at that moment, each one falling short of what you are. He should have come in, then should have helped you. He's sure you would have liked that. Instead, he watched what he could from the glass. He would be patient waiting for you to invite him in to beg for him in your sweet voice for help. His heart raced, watching as you sunk down deeper, taking the toy's fake knot. Covering your mouth in the hope it would muffle your moans, but he heard it. Your legs trembled as you came slick staining your toy. He hadn't meant to be a voyeur honest but the memory of you riding that silly little toy. Well, it was ingrained into the deepest parts of his memory.
Even now, he felt himself heat up. Would you be embarrassed that he knew? Shy? It was alright. It was ok he wouldn't tease. No, no. Not you, you were just too delicious as you are no need to tease. His hand slowly closed around his cock thumb, teasing the head before giving himself a few long strokes. He whimpered at the relief, slowly picking up speed. He was proud of you taking that knot so well that, with a little help, he's sure you would be able to take his. Right down to the hilt. Would you beg him in that same sweet voice? Would you try to muffle your cries? Now that he wouldn't allow, he was going to make it so you see no one else but him in your fantasy. He bit into his pillow at the thought he'd mark everywhere not an inch left unexplored inside and out. His strokes became more frantic, now loosing what little sense of rhythm he had. He was going to ruin you sweetly at first and then, well, you'd let him do as he wishes, right?
"Please" he whispered, his voice, shaking at the effort. His mind was mush a gummy paste filled with you and a chorus of mine on repeat. Calling out your name, he wished that you were here, your warmth, your softness. He craved everything you had to give. He wanted to sink his teeth into you, but he craved your sweet touch on his face. He was a mess of contradictions. Then one thought sent him over the edge the thought of how you would say his name as you came. Fluids coated his hand as he tried to catch his breath. It was not enough. The fire in his veins only worsened. He made a frustrated noise in the back of his throat. It was going to be a long night.