LunaTheVo1dCat13

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“Wanna wrestle?” You asked casually, finally facing Harlequin on the couch you both sat on.

The TV in front of you flickered for a moment at your words, almost as though responding when the menace found himself unable to do so. Remote in hand, Harlequin turned off the device only to place his arm down and look at you with a somewhat bewildered expression. However, the clown was used to ad-libbing, due to being in his twisted form of show business—thus, immediately Harlequin signature grin grew back like a phoenix from the ashes born anew.

“Oh?” he taunted while leaning closer, placing the remote on the arm of the couch you shared. “My, so forward? Well dear, if you wanted my dicks in your mouth then all you had to do w—”

A thumb was suddenly shoved in the green menace’s face before he could finish his sentence, your thumb specifically; pointing upward while the rest of your fingers clenched in a fist underneath. Soon a grin appeared on you, one as wide as ever made The Harlequin strangely nervous at the sight.

“A thumb war,” you declared, wiggling your thumb at him. “Don’t tell me you’ve never played?”

Harlequin blinked at that, narrowing his emerald gaze first at the thumb and then to you.

“Sorry dearest, but I’ve had better things to do in my life than play childish games such as these. Perhaps if it involved taking our clothes off, however~”

You stuck your tongue out at him, “C’mon, it’ll be fun and I’m bored--- Pleaseeeee~!”

Harlequin knew by the look on your face that he wasn’t getting out of this, no way no how. For whatever reason you were determined to challenge him to a ‘thumb war’ as you called it. A small, almost Dickensian game involving nothing but your hands fighting to the ‘death’---again, as you called it. Swiftly, you pulled one of his hands towards you, locking your fingers in place leaving thumb against thumb—pressed together like wrestlers in deadlock. One by one you showed him the ‘rules’ of this ‘game’ (words the clown hesitated to use for something as trivial as this) showing that all he needed to do was pin your thumb under his own to win.

Ridiculous…

Still, The Harlequin did have to admit that he was bored too.

There was nothing on TV, Pierrot was out handing flyers, TicketTaker and Jester forbade both of you to be in the kitchen today, and Doctor---well---was busy with something that neither of you felt the urge to help with. So, in the end, all you could do was this….a thumb war….something only a child would find amusing. The Harlequin sighed in defeat, realizing much to his chagrin that this truly was the only thing to do today….shame…..he had gotten his hopes up earlier by the idea of having his way with you via wrestling on the couch…oh well…

“Ready?” you asked with a smirk, wiggling your thumb against his.

“No,” Harlequin replied sighing, “but start whenever you want, darling. I’ll be here.”

The clown had zero interest in this game no matter how excited you were and how adorable you looked right now. So he lazily maneuvered his digit around yours, dodging only once before being pinned. A triumphant glisten shined in your eyes at the victory, even knowing full well it was, literally, handed to you. Still, you did win—and you weren’t going to be humble about it.

“OOOMPH! Guess who pinned the poison of the circus?” You looked around the empty room as though expecting an audience’s cheer. “Thiiiiiiis barista---YEAHHHH!! In your FACE, Harle-Bitch!”

Harlequin rolled his eyes at your over-the-top remarks, sighing as you nearly begged for a round two. A round that lasted even shorter than the first, yet somehow that too hadn’t dissuaded your enthusiasm much to the clown’s boredom.

“Wooo! And the audience is lovingggg it! Hell yeah—but uh--,” you coughed, “—maybe the green menace has outlived his prime---too bad folks, can’t take back those season tickets! Perhaps next week we’ll see if The Pierrot will do better! I’ll bet money that he will~”

Harlequin finally bristled somewhat at your teasing just then. The edges of his grinning mask twitched at the thought of you playing this game….being with….him.

“Oh?” Harlequin squinted his eyes at you. “You really think that Pierrot would be more of a match than me? I could have you begging for release in less than a second if I truly wanted, you know?”

You scoffed at him, still holding his hand and thumb under yours like a champion stepping on the head of his opponent.

“Sure baby, and I’m the Dalai Lama.”

And then….opportunity, as Harlequin often knew it, presented itself like the open legs of a new bride.

You stuck your tongue out again and he quickly leaned forward, and bit it at the near tip.

“—Arle-wqUIN?!” your muffled voice and wide eyes were barely able to convey.

Meanwhile the menace grinned, keeping you still with his teeth on your tongue, knowing full well that if either of you moved then The Doctor would be needed. Sharp, stinging fangs made you unable to shudder against The Harlequin’s power play. You glared at him, despite this, finally finding his menacing, something you normally found cute, to be, frankly, scary as fuck. But also hot? What was wrong with you? You might lose your damn tongue over this fucker!

“HA—wey—Wet—Meh—Ouught-!” You pleaded angrily as best as you could, though this only made the menace’s grin wider.

Soon you felt something….off…in your hand. Harelquin’s thumb managed to slip out, now pinning your own. Finally, the clown let you free and you used your free hand to check whether or not he’d bitten hard enough to make you bleed (thankfully he had not); glaring at him the whole time.

“The fwuck was tyaht, ArleQuin?” you gently massaged your tongue to help it work properly once again.

Yet all the green clown could do was dart his eyes back and forth to you and his now ‘winning hand.’

“Are you fucking serious?” You gawked at him. “You nearly bit my tongue in half---to win a THUMB WAR?!”

Harlequin chuckled, “What? And here I thought you wanted me to have fun?”

Rubbing your sleeve against your mouth to wipe away and left over spit you continued to glare at him with a small pout.

“How about we try that again, but THIS TIME—you play fair?!”

Harlequin turned away at that, no longer facing you nor with your hands interlocked, arms crossed in boredom once more.

“Not interested.”

“C’mon! Just oneeee more?”

Your wide, shining eyes did little to dissuade the clown’s seemingly ultimate decision.

“How about this, Harles,” you smirked. “If you can pin my thumb down fair and square then you can pin me down.”

Harlequin’s everything became alert at that, and suddenly, he was finally and truly invested in the game.

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