Chapter Text
“Jake, sweetie, come here, you’ve tied that all wrong.”
The elderly woman pushes the thick rounded glasses up the bridge of her nose before leaning down, her hands reaching out for your dark green bow tie. She grins, a wide toothy smile with the same overbearing teeth that you were yet to grow into.
“But grandma, we’re going to be late and I want to see the elephants and will there be lions and-“
“Now, pray tell me, how can we be late when we are already here?” She raises two dark eyebrows, straightening up again and nodding at the white and red tent in the distance.
There is the faint sound of music and the tent is lit up with bright, colored lights that shine in the dimming evening. Smaller stalls and workers tents littered the field, surrounding the centrepiece tent, which towered high over all the others like a giant peppermint candy. And of course you weren’t going to be late, the show didn’t start until at least another hour, but you were so darn excited it was difficult to contain.
Your name is Jake English and you are 11 years old. And this the first time you’ve ever been to the circus.
“Stay close, Jake.” Your grandma warns, grasping at your hand to guide you through the crowds of people. But it falls on deaf ears, your attention otherwise occupied with everything else going on around you as you turn wide green eyes on the multicolored flags running over your head.
“Gadzooks, gran, look at that!” You point through the crowds at a purple and black stall, bright lights glittering off the gold decorations that shone against the dark colors. A blonde woman sat amongst the sombre set up, leaning over a crystal ball with painted black lips pulled up into a knowing smile.
“Is she a witch?” You whisper in awe and your grandma laughs.
“No, silly. She’s a psychic! She can see the future in her magic crystal ball.”
“No way!” Your eyes flash wide in disbelief, unable to attribute it to anything other than pure magic. No matter what your grandma says, only a witch would be able to see into the future and your mind flashes through a thousand clips from the Wizard of Oz movie. You only hope that the pretty blonde woman had no flying monkeys hidden beneath the purple clothed table.
Those things always did give you the willies.
“Jake, honey. Wait here for me whilst I go buy our tickets, alright? Don’t you go running off.” She gives your hand a squeeze before releasing you from her grip, moving to join the queue for show tickets.
Nodding enthusiastically, you turn your attention back onto your surroundings, gaze falling and sticking on what appeared to be a small puppet show set up, the puppets dancing across the mini stage skilfully in order to delight a gathered group of children. A smile lights up your lips, and with a quick glance back at your gran, you find yourself hurrying over to join the crowd.
She won’t mind if you only watched for five minutes or so, surely. And besides, you were 11 years old and perfectly capable of looking after yourself and whatnot. You were practically a young man now!
The cloth puppets seem to be acting out a fight scene, moving quickly by some invisible hand as the orange and red figures dart around the small stage. It’s transfixing to watch, and you barely even notice the young boy moving to stand beside you until he speaks, jolting you back into reality again.
“Hey, wanna see something funny?”
You look his way, glancing down at a boy with wild black hair and a smile to compete with your own in terms of sheer dorkiness. He’s raising his eyebrows at you in question, drawing attention to two of the bluest eyes you have ever seen. Gosh, those eyes are something special.
Before you can reply to his question, he has grasped at your wrist to pull you after him, and you stumble into compliance, following him around the small crowd of kids towards the back of the puppet show.
You notice he’s not wearing any shoes, bare feet padding along in the tall grass with soles as dirty brown as the shorts he wore, held up by a pair of bright blue suspenders. It takes a second for it to fall into place that he must be part of the circus, and a flash of jealousy washes over you.
You wish you could live the ripsnorting life of a traveller. You bet the little chap gets up to so many adventures living on the road with all these performers.
He turns back to you, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose before placing a finger over his lips to signal you to be quiet. You send him a curious look, but press your lips together regardless, watching as he approaches the long curtain covering the back of the puppet stage.
His hands grip the dark material, a cheeky grin pulling at his lips before he yanks the curtain back, shouting a loud, “BOO!” as he does so.
Behind the curtain, a crouched blonde man wearing a cap startles, the puppets on the ends of his hands jumping wildly upwards before he quickly regains his composure. His head whips around, revealing a pair of dark pointed shades as he kicks his leg out in the young boy’s direction, desperately trying to keep his puppets stable at the same time.
“John, you little shit, get out of here!”
John, as you now know he is named, leaps back away from the swinging leg, his face creased in laughter as he releases the curtain, letting it swing back and hiding the puppeteer once more. He turns his grin in your direction and you snort out a small giggle in return.
Okay, so maybe that had been a little funny, if not a little cruel to the angry puppeteer.
“He’s always really grumpy when I prank him. He says that one day he’s gonna take me and hang me upside down over the lion’s cage, but I know he won’t really do that because he likes my dad too much for some reason.” John rocks back on his heels, his words coming quick and with slight mispronunciation due to teeth he hadn’t quite grown into yet.
“Gosh, I knew there were lions here! Just like in my movies!”
“Of course there are, dumbnut,” John rolls his eyes up to the sky as though it were obvious, “And elephants, and horses, and we even have a giraffe!”
“Wow, that’s really super neat! I can’t wait to see them in the show…”
“I’ll show you them now, if you want me to.” He fixes his gaze back on you and your mouth drops open, green eyes expanding as you take an eager step in John’s direction. Oh boy, oh wow, a private look at the animals? This was just the type of adventure you could sink your teeth into and you suddenly find all thoughts of returning to your grandma banished beneath a childish impatience to follow the other dark haired boy.
“Lead the way, chap! Let us set off on this expedition immediately in search of the elusive wild beasts!” You announce, placing your hands on your hips and sending him an enthusiastic grin that he returns with a laugh.
“You’re a dork.”
“Nuh-uh, I’m an adventurer!” You say a little defensively and he steps forward to give your bow tie a tug, giggling to himself.
“You’re a stupid dork in a dorky bow tie. And you talk really weird.”
You frown, brow pulling down as you swat away his hand from your bow tie. Your grandma had said you looked really smart and grown up in your bow tie, so you are fairly sure that this John kid knows nothing. Especially considering he wasn’t wearing any shoes.
How awfully silly of him.
“I talk just fine! Are all circus travellers this rude?”
John’s face falls, as though only just realizing that his words may have come across as offensive. He tugs at one of his suspenders, eyes dropping away to the ground as he worries his bottom lip with his teeth.
“Sorry! I like your bow tie really! Please don’t tell the ringmaster…”
His eyes snap back up to yours and you can practically feel yourself soften under his gaze. Gosh, the kid could really pull off adorable when he set his mind to it.
“Uh, I wasn’t going to really….” You scratch the back of your neck before you take a step towards him, extending the hand in his direction with a smile, “I’m Jake English, by the way. I’m 11 years old.”
You seem particularly proud of your age, as though 11 was the oldest you were ever going to be and therefore you had reached the peak of maturity. Hell, you’d already seemed to find yourself on one very grown up adventure to seek out the circus animals.
John seems to perk up a little, as your hand elicits a small giggle from him before he grasps at it with his own, shaking it clumsily.
“John Egbert… I’m only 9. But I’m 9 and 6 months, so I’m not a baby or anything.” He’s sure to send you a determined look in order to prove that he meant it and you make sure to nod in agreement, biting back a smile.
“Jolly nice to meet you, John! Shall we get set on this exploration?” You reach forward as he pulls his hand from yours so that your fingers curl tightly back around his, this time used in a grip to tug him along after you. And he yelps out at the sudden pull, rushing to catch up with your quick pace as he breaks into another laugh.
He has a nice laugh, childish and hiccupy, and it comes so easily that you can’t help but laugh along with him, glancing back at him as he raises his eyebrows above his glasses.
“You even know where you’re heading, adventure boy? Because the animals are in this direction...” John gives a slightly smug smirk, tightening his grip in order to yank you to the side with just as much force so that you huff out proudly.
“You live here, right?”
He nods enthusiastically, dodging between two tents and quickly dipping and diving among the tent lines. A little less used to the obstacle course of wires, you trip on a line, grasping at his arm with your other hand and squeezing against his fingers in an attempt to keep upright. He laughs, almost tipping back at your weight on his arm before he manages to steady you and you give a small, embarrassed frown.
“Yeah, my dad works here helping the ringmaster with all his money and paperwork! But I secretly think that it’s all just an act… I swear that he’s actually a secret clown.” John’s eyes turn wide and his little face is so serious you can’t help but chuckle. What a peculiar little chap he is.
“A clown? By golly, is that what you want to be?”
“Me? No! When I’m all grown up, I’m going to be an acrobat!” His face lights up, his hands dropping away from you so that he can step back into the grassy space between two rows of tents.
He’s led you away from all the crowds, the tents storing equipment seeming scarily empty around you compared to the buzz and madness happening only one row of tents away. And he is hopping into the centre of the grassy pathway, arms raised above his head.
He tips forward, one palm flattening against the grass and in less than a second he had whipped his whole body over in a one handed cartwheel. He grins your way, his spine arching backwards so that his palms hit the floor again and he’s crawling in a crab before he kicks his legs up into a handstand.
His moves were flawless, and you clap your hands together in delight, your mouth falling open at the simple gymnastics the boy was making look so easy. You had honestly seen him as a clown, all goofy smiles and silly pranks, until this moment. Now he was nothing short of graceful and agile, his feet padding lightly as they hit the floor again, cheeks flushed from the blood having rushed to his head.
“Holy crackers, that was amazing little chap!”
“You should see me in the air.”
“Huh?”
“The swings! The trapeze! The tightrope! I’m getting so good in the air that the ringmaster said that maybe one day I could be one of the big stars in the show.” His chest swells with pride and he grins at you with such enthusiasm, you can feel something twist and ache in your own chest.
Hm, that reaction was a little strange.
And it’s also a little strange how you’ve suddenly become highly aware of the fact that you were no longer holding his hand. As though you maybe miss the feel of his fingers squeezing against your own to pull you after him.
Your eyes snap back up to him, suddenly conscious that you’d been staring down at your empty hand, and his gaze hits yours, bright and fierce and oh so very blue. It was funny how you had never really had much of a favourite color until you had seen those eyes.
“Are we gonna go see the animals then or are you just going to stand there like a dummy?” John says, his brow furrowing curiously at your sudden silence and you stammer back to life, a light flush tinting your cheeks in embarrassment.
“Certainly! Lead the way! And maybe… maybe I could get to see you? In the air I mean! On the trapeast or whatnot.”
“Trapeze.”
“Yes! That’s- that’s the one!”
He’s giggling at you again and you focus your attention on the floor in front of you. Because you’d been looking at his face for what seemed like an awful long time and grandma always warned you that it was rude to stare.
“Hm, well we have a practice tent set up behind the main one that is usually pretty empty this close to showtime… I suppose I could give the ropes a go if you really wanted to see?” He chews on his lower lip, seeming nervous to show you.
You wish you could reassure him that anything he showed you would seem incredible without coming across as a little weird.
Instead you make do with a nod, falling into step beside him so that you can observe both of your feet moving in time. His, dirty and bare, and your own laced up in shoes you had already managed to scuff. But then again, nothing stayed clean for long with you, what with all the adventuring and occasional brawling that left your clothes messy, your knees bruised and your grandma less than pleased.
“I sure do wish I could join the circus. I bet you get up to all sorts of smashing exploits on the road!”
“Heh, I guess so,” You can see him tip his head to look up at you out of the corner of your eye and he seems to look for an awful long time, “I think I wish you could join too, Jake. I like having you as a friend.”
And then you feel his fingers grasping at yours, making your cheeks darken to a spectacular shade of cherry red as he holds your hand again. Your palm is sweating and you squeeze a little too hard but he doesn’t seem to mind, breaking into a run and leaving you no choice but to break into a run beside him.
Gosh, you don’t think you’ve been this happy in such a long time.
…
The animals are even better than you expected, and John even knew how to get the elephant to lie down so that you could climb onto its back.
Although the best part was when John had climbed on behind you, and for just a few minutes, he had wrapped his arms around your waist. You aren’t sure why it had giving you such a happy tingling feeling when he had done that, the smile unable to move from your lips as he held you close atop the gigantic animal.
And then the two of you had snuck into one of the clowns tents, trying on the clothes and leaving you tripping over baggy spotted pants in your attempts to escape when a startled looking clown had found you. You had barely been able to breathe, you were laughing so much, and John had blown a raspberry at the clown, eliciting a “crazy little motherfuckers” grumble from him before the two of you were scrambling away out of sight.
John had told you that you still had a smudge of clown make up on your cheek. And you had let him roll down his shirt sleeve in order to rub it away, his touch clumsy but gentle on your face so that you swallow hard. He pokes his tongue out slightly in concentration and you have to glance away, because somehow looking at his mouth seemed a little too personal all of a sudden.
By the time you both make it to the practice tent, a smaller, less visually appealing version of the one looming beside it, you are fairly sure that John Egbert is one of your newest most bestest friends ever.
“Oh sweet, everyone’s out!” John says as he pokes his head through the opening before beckoning you to follow him through the flap of material with a wave of his hand.
It’s a little dark inside the tent, a few small lamps set up along the floor and casting only a little bit of eerie orange light about the inside of the huge tent. There is a slightly musty smell and it’s warmer inside than it was outside so that you reach up to give your tight collar a tug from your neck.
Various equipment lay scattered on the floor, but it was the trapeze that John was heading for. Two long, thick ropes hung down from a support bar across the top of the tent, holding up a thin metal bar at their ends. It wasn’t very high from the ground, being only a practice swing, but John still turned your way when he reached to it, his hands grasping high above his head as he flashes you a smile.
“Could you give me a lift up onto it?”
“Certainly, mate.” You jolt towards him, grasping around his waist tightly in order to lift him up. He’s so light to carry, small and warm in your arms. And it takes a second or two for you to realize that he has managed to grip the bar and your grip was no longer necessary.
“Haha, you can let go now, Jake.”
“Oh, blimey, sorry.”
You quickly release him, stepping back awkwardly as he pulls himself up skilfully onto the bar, swinging his legs over it so that he sits on top of it, back facing your way and his hands gripping at the ropes.
You wonder how anyone with such skinny arms has the strength to pull himself up like that, your gaze drifting over his small frame; the blue suspenders pulling taught against his shoulders over the dirty white shirt, the pale legs sticking out from his shorts to hang in the air, the point on the back of his neck where the skin ends and the messy black strands of hair begin.
Oh boy wowser, your chest has gone all tight again.
A loud ringing distracts you from your thoughts, making you startle as you glance up towards a bell by the entrance to the tent.
“Ah! The show is beginning… they ring to bell as a warning five minutes before showtime.” John says and your face falls in realization.
“Oh my jiminy cricket, showtime!”
You suddenly remember your grandma and the instruction she had given you not to wander off. Oh holy hell, you were sure to be in a whole world of bother for this.
John hums in agreement and then shifts backwards so that his knees hit the bar of the trapeze. His fingers release their grip on the ropes and he tips back, sending the bar swinging as he hangs in the air upside down, his knees hooked tightly over the bar to keep him from falling.
And he’s facing you now, smiling your way with his hair hanging away from his face and his glasses tipping off his face to fall onto the grass below him before he can catch them. He looks pretty darn adorable and you wish you could stay just to see him do at least one trick in the air. But you had already pushed your luck too far and you could only imagine how worried your gran would be by this point.
“I have to go, John! I’m going to be late for the show…”
“Oh.” John’s smile flickers down into a slightly disappointed frown and it twists your stomach to see it. You much preferred it when he smiled.
“I’m sorry,” You step towards him, crouching down to pick up his glasses from the floor, folding the arms and looking back up at John.
And you mean to say more but you find that you can’t, tongue freezing in its attempts. Because with him hanging, his face comes dead level with your own, exposed blue eyes hitting your own green and setting your heartbeat off quite rapidly.
You can’t help but compare the dark haired boy hanging down in front of you with the figure in your favourite spiderman comics and movies, and before you even realize what you are doing, your hands have reached up to rest against either side if his face.
His eyes widen, confused about why your thumbs are brushing up against his cheeks and his lips part in question.
You know what comes next. And although you are fairly sure that John has never read a spiderman comic in his life, you think that maybe part of him knows what’s coming next too. Which is why you are awfully glad when he doesn’t attempt to pull back as you push up onto your tiptoes, tipping his head down. And then you push your lips up against his in a small peck of a kiss, his lips warm and wet beneath yours for only a second or two before you pull back again.
It was just a little kiss.
And you and John were just kids and you were newly acquired friends and this was what friends did. You’re sure of it.
And all friendly upside down kisses probably made your heart swell and threaten to burst from your chest, tinting your cheeks and making your head feel light. Gee whizz, you sure do wish you could friendly kiss John again.
But there is a shout from a circus worker outside the entrance to the tent and you are snapped back into reality, your hands dropping away from John as you quickly push his glasses into one of his hanging palms.
He looks a little shocked and confused, his mouth open as though the words were trapped but not quite able to fall off the tip of his tongue.
“It was… nice to meet you John.” You say before you are quickly steeping back around him, rushing for the tent opening, your mind spinning with thoughts of your gran and the amount of trouble you were going to be in.
But then as you pull the thick tent tarpaulin back, cool outside air cooling the burn on your cheeks, you hear him call out,
“Goodbye, Jake English.”
And suddenly John Egbert is all you can think of again.