♠️ Préparez-vous À Être Émerveillés!

Pierre stood near the stage, watching his friend and fellow performer, Marcel, finishing up his contact juggling act. He tugged nervously at the white ruffles around his neck as the crowd cheered loudly for the sight of the glass balls rolling seemingly magically across Marcel's sleek, naked body, clad only in a glistening silver loincloth.

"Marcel is setting the bar high tonight," another fellow performer, Julien, whispered behind him. "You better be ready to put up quite a show."

Julien was another sizzling circus boy, dressed as a Harlequin and, like most nights, his costume left little to the imagination; a tiny satin red thong with nearly invisible straps, black and red checkered stockings and a black top hat adorned with vibrant red feathers. His flawless teenage face was painted with daring streaks of red and black, his eyes gleaming with mischief and lust.

"Don't worry, Julien. I have some tricks up my sleeve," Pierre replied confidently, running his fingers along the silky surface of his bare hip, exposed by his high cut, Pierrot-themed leotard. His face was milky white, almost ethereal under the bright stage lights, with two black tear marks streaming down from each eye. A thin smile played upon his lips, his dark eyes brimming with determination and excitement.

"I bet you do," Julien grinned, his gaze lingering on the curves of Pierre's slender, feminine legs, exposed all the way down to the tips of his toes. Pierre's legs could make any girl jealous, from fashion models to rhythmic gymnasts. Julien had seen them in action countless times during rehearsals but he never got tired of admiring the sheer elegance of their form, the smoothness of the skin, the delicate curve of the calf muscles, and the incredible elasticity of the tendons hidden beneath the flawless exterior.

Pierre was a natural contortionist, having been born into an old lineage of circus artists. He had learned to sit in splits before he even learned to walk, and then his childhood and teenage years were spent perfecting his legs in every way possible. Very early on, it was clear that no pants or shorts would ever sustain the kind of leg stretches that Pierre loved to indulge in, so his only option was to wear a leotard, cutting it higher and higher to get the fabric out of the way of his limber legs.

At the age of eighteen, he possessed an astonishing array of moves that could keep the audience on the edge of their seats for ten minutes, glued to the mesmerizing movements of his slender legs; everything from 360° oversplits and Ruppel backbends to the Kandasana and DiMario knot – each one executed with grace and precision, like a poet reciting his best verses to an entranced crowd.

The Pierrot's costume was tailor-made to suit his unique needs; it was first devised several years ago, when Pierre was just eleven years old. He had been summoned by the ringmaster, Monsieur d'Orchaun, together with Julien, the ringmaster's own son, to decide on their debut performance outfits.

As luck would have it, the two boys complemented each other perfectly; while Pierre bore an ethereal beauty with his thin, delicate face that made him the obvious choice for a Pierrot, Julien's playful demeanour and mischievous spark in his eyes were reminiscent of a classic Harlequin. Their roles seemed almost predestined, and didn't take the ringmaster a second look to see it.

"I believe this will be perfect," Monsieur d'Orchaun announced once the outfits had been tailored to fit the young performers. He held up two costumes; one was a white leotard, adorned with black pompoms and a frill around the neckline, its sleeves billowing like sails; the other, a wildly colorful and intricate Harlequin getup, complete with striking checkered stockings and a flamboyant top hat adorned with feathers, the only other item being a tiny red thong held up by near transparent straps – looking like one of those little leaves covering the modesty in old paintings.

"You shall wear these, mes enfants! Now, let us rehearse your act!"

Their debut performance turned out to be a resounding success, the audience captivated by the charm and pure talent exhibited by both boys, as well as their undeniable chemistry on stage. As they took their bows, Pierre couldn't help but feel grateful for having his childhood friend by his side, the one who helped him every day since they were young boys, always there to support him, push him to grow, and fill his heart with joy just when he needed it most.

Since then, Julien had become more than just a trusted friend or even a brother figure; he had grown into a person whose very presence could set Pierre's heart racing, whose laughter made his day brighter, whose touch sent shivers down his bendy spine.

Now, years later, as they stood backstage waiting for their cue, that bond remained as strong as ever, stronger even, perhaps, than the elastic fabric of their outfits.

"Approchez, approchez! Petits et grands, Mesdames et Messieurs! Le Grand Cirque d'Orchan vous présente en exclusivité mondiale... La légende de Pierrot et Harlequin! Un numéro de contorsion extraordinaire qui vous laissera bouche bée! Venez vite, préparez-vous à être émerveillés!"

The ringmaster's voice boomed through the speakers. "Approchez, approchez ! Voici... Pierre, le Pierrot, et Julien, le Harlequin! Ensemble, ils vont vous éblouir avec des prouesses de flexibilité incroyables, des mouvements spectaculaires que vous n'avez jamais vus auparavant! Ne manquez pas ce spectacle unique et sensationnel! C'est un moment magique que vous n'oublierez jamais!"

They exchanged a glance, filled with mutual understanding and trust, and then moved towards the curtains, ready to grace the stage once again, together, as always.