I got my head in the clouds

I just met an angel

I don't want to come down

What a beautiful stranger

Head in the Clouds – Fabian Buch

One Step at a Time

Practice Makes Perfect

Gilbert sat and watched Matthew climb up to the tightrope tied taut between two poles. He needed to crane his neck to follow his progress up the ladder because it was higher than most of the tents.

It had been two weeks since he arrived at the circus with his brother. The two of them had a tent to themselves now but he sort of missed bunking with the acrobat.

Alright, so there was no 'sort of' about it; he missed him.

But not the polar bear.

He saw Matthew at breakfast and then sometimes in the rush between performances but it was not enough. He wanted to see more of him. He wanted to see more of him whether or not Ivan gave his consent.

Tension had been building between the two of them since that first meeting and it seemed worse each sunrise. He was supposed to work with him, or at least not strangle him, and it was difficult to do either. Ivan made it obvious that he disliked him and Gilbert returned the favour.

Matthias and Lukas just tried not to stand between them.

Gilbert was not exactly sure what his attachment to the blonde was, yet, but Ivan was adamant that Gilbert leave him alone.

Gilbert snorted.

Fuck that.

Matthew crawled onto the top of one of the poles and it rocked under his weight and the wind. Gilbert gasped.

There was no sane reason to do that. He could not be convinced to do the same, not now, not ever. He was not afraid of heights but tightrope walking was pushing it, even for him.

Matthew drew a breath and stepped out onto the rope without looking down.

And all of a sudden, Gilbert understood how Matthew became a performer despite his bashful, introverted nature.

Oh, wow…

He was not walking on the tightrope; he was dancing on it.

He touched the rope with soft precision and leaned into the wind. He danced with grace, one foot after the other, and corrected his balance with subtle changes to his posture.

Gilbert shielded his eyes against the glaring sun to watch him dance in awe. His head was in the clouds and it suited him.

He was beautiful.

Gilbert was not sure how long he sat there watching but he was surprised to see the sun set behind the tents as Matthew came back down to earth.

Matthew seemed just as surprised. He had not known that Gilbert was here.

"Gilbert?"

Gilbert nodded and massaged his aching neck.

"Matthew."

"What are you doing here?" He was blushing as he reached for a threadbare towel and swept it across his forehead. His tunic was soaked through with sweat.

"I was watching you."

The blush intensified and Gilbert smirked, knowing that he had put it there.

"… Why?"

"Matthias set the tent on fire again. We were dismissed after the ringmaster stopped screeching," he paused and met his stare. "… And I missed you."

"Oh!"

"Did you miss me?"

He knew he was pushing the envelope a bit but he did not care. He had been making friends, he supposed, with Matthias and Lukas, and then with Antonio, Francis, and Arthur, but he missed the blonde. He wanted to know if he felt the same.

Matthew bit his lip and Gilbert wondered where the confidence on the tightrope went when he touched the ground again.

"… Yes. I missed you too…"

Gilbert grinned.

"Do you want to come to dinner with me?"

"… Yes."

Gilbert kissed him on the cheek, innocent and unabashed, and led the blonde towards the fire pit. He laughed and wrapped an arm around his shoulders whilst he stuttered.

Gilbert stretched and opened his eyes. It was morning.

His brother was asleep in the cot across from him and it was much too small for his large frame. He was not surprised to see a tuft of chestnut hair tucked under his chin; Feliciano had been sneaking into their tent and crawling under the covers with Ludwig since they were assigned a tent a week ago. It was blue, which the ringmaster said complimented both of them.

Ludwig had tried to convince Feliciano to return to his own tent several times but each time Feliciano managed to win the argument. Gilbert was sure it was because he was adorable. It was fun to watch the strongman lose an argument against a slight acrobat just because Feliciano knew when to flutter his eyelashes.

Gilbert tumbled out of bed and slipped into new clothes; trousers, a stained undershirt, and suspenders. He did not have to wear practice clothes like some of the other performers; his act was to be himself. It was one of the perks of albinism.

He left and walked down the aisle of tents. The sun was still below the horizon and the morning chorus echoed through the trees surrounding the campgrounds. Most of the performers were asleep but he met Arthur and Lili at the fire pit.

Arthur was massaging his temples and talking to Lili while she ate some porridge and listened with attentive patience.

"… And the fucking prat just kept chasing me around the tent."

She nodded.

"That, um, that sounds difficult."

"Ugh. I hate him."

Gilbert sat down next to them and patted Arthur on the back.

"What's the matter? Is Francis bothering you again?"

"He never stopped bothering me!"

Gilbert reached for a crude bowl and dipped it into the porridge. There were no spoons; most of the performers used pieces of dried bread or their fingers. Lili was using dried bread; he used his fingers.

"So what are you going to do about it?"

"… Kill him?"

Lili squeaked in surprise and shook her head back and forth. Gilbert waggled a finger coated in porridge at her.

"Ah, ah, ah. He won't kill him. He even likes him half of the time."

"Fuck you, I do not."

"Mmhmm. Sure."

"I do not!"

Gilbert nudged him with the toe of his shoe and Arthur growled. He kicked back. Lili giggled at their antics.

Antonio sat with him on the makeshift fence and watched Elizabeta chase horses around the pen. 'Ice' was perched on the opposite fence with a couple of birds and a trained dingo. He ignored Elizabeta.

"I think he misses his brother."

Gilbert glanced at him. Antonio was smiling but it was a little tight around the corners. He was an auguste clown but he wore the same expressions whether or not he was in costume.

"… Who?"

"Lovino."

Gilbert snorted.

"I doubt it. He spends all of his time screaming at him. Or my brother. Or you."

Antonio shrugged.

"He doesn't mean it."

"It sounds like he means it."

Antonio continued to smile but it seemed more than a little tight now.

"He doesn't mean it," he repeated.

Gilbert watched Elizabeta instead of answering but he made a note to mention it to Francis and perhaps even his brother if it was so important to Antonio. The man was so laidback that it must be important if he was so concerned.

Francis disappeared behind the curtain with another pile of costumes and Gilbert leaned back in his chair and studied his fingernails while Francis changed.

"I would listen to Antonio if I were you."

"But it does not seem like he misses Feliciano."

"Of course he does! He is just like my mulish, stubborn magician. Kiku has a special word for it but I never remember it… Tsu… Tsude… Ah, I have forgotten it again."

"… You think so?"

"I do." Francis stepped out from behind the curtains in a dreadful pink number and raised his arms over his head. "What about this one?"

"It's, um, very pink."

Francis placed his hands on his hips.

"… And…?"

"… You look fantastic?"

"Oh, you are too sweet!" He kissed him, right on the lips, and disappeared in a flutter of pink fabric and sequins. Gilbert laughed and swiped his lips with the back of his hand.

"And you are too easy. When are you going to stop throwing yourself at Arthur?"

Francis peeked out from between the curtains.

"When he kisses me, of course!"

"You kiss him all the time."

France waggled his finger.

"Ah, but there is the problem! I kiss him. I want him to kiss me." He ducked back behind the curtain before reappearing in an outfit composed of blue glitter and little else. "What about this one?"

"… Uh, it's sparkly."

"… And…?" He prompted.

"… You look fantastic…?"

"Oh, you!"

Gilbert sat on a crate and watched Matthew dance across the tightrope. He raised his hands over his head and shifted his feet with meticulous care. It seemed as if he were dancing to music that no one else could hear.

He removed his tunic at some point and it fluttered down to earth.

Gilbert picked it up.

He had taken to watching Matthew like this, so close and still so far, before coaxing him to dinner. It was not a lot of time but he had him all to himself from here to the fire pit and that was alright.

That was more than alright.

That was perfect.

Matthew started walking on his hands and Gilbert sucked in a breath of alarm as his muscles strained with the weight. It was a slow process that required a lot of strength and concentration. Matthew said it was impossible to do unless the tightrope was tied tight enough.

His hand slipped a bit and he lowered himself onto his stomach, mindless of his missing tunic, and wrapped himself around the tightrope before finding his balance again and standing up. It was almost dusk. He would need to come back down soon.

But Gilbert could wait.

Ivan leaned over the fence and into his line of sight and Gilbert groaned. He tugged his cap down over his eyes and tried to block him out. He just wanted to take a nap in the pen with the circus animals and wait for the noon sun to dip below the tents. It was too hot to deal with the other man.

"What now, asshole?"

"Someone is telling me that you are still watching the acrobat."

"… There are a lot of acrobats here. You need to be a little more specific."

"There is only one acrobat I care about. Leave him alone or we will have a problem."

He turned and disappeared again. Gilbert kicked an overturned barrel once Ivan was gone and it was the pain of his throbbing foot that kept him from running after him and punching him.

It kept his mind on what was important.

"Perhaps Feli should sleep in his own tent for awhile."

Ludwig glanced up from his sewing with an exasperated expression. He was patching his outfit from where his muscles had grown and torn the fabric but that was a common problem for strongmen.

"I tell him to go back to his tent in the evening but when I wake up, he is here. I do not know what else to do."

Gilbert looked him over.

"Do you like it?"

Ludwig stabbed himself in the finger with the needle in surprise and hissed. His face flushed.

"… Like what?"

"Do you like it when he sleeps here?"

"… Sometimes…"

"Hmmm…"

Gilbert sat in the tent and listened to Gupta coax a poisonous snake from a terracotta pot. He was not a freak, per se, but his act worked well with both Matthias and Lukas'. Gilbert had missed meeting him that first morning but he had not missed much.

The man was slight and dark and he never said a word.

The keening noise from his flute was sort of comforting. Gilbert knew from a former snake charmer that the snake was not as interested in the noise as it was the wavering end of the instrument but he could not imagine the act without music.

He closed his eyes and let the sound wash over him.

There was a stick of incense somewhere that made the performers and the snake a little lethargic. Even Ivan was not glaring quite as much as usual.

Gilbert took the moment of reprieve with a grain of salt: it would not last.

But he would take what he could get.

"Gilbert?"

"Matthew."

"Are you here to pick me up again?"

"… Maybe. Do you mind?"

Matthew plucked the towel from his outstretched hand and tried to cover his blush with it. Gilbert saw it nevertheless.

"Um, no, I do not mind. Thank you."

Gilbert grinned at him. He was not sure what it was about the other man but his presence was soothing and calming. It made it easier to deal with a new circus and the fact that his brother was drifting further from him in favour of the brunette.

Gilbert held out his arm and Matthew threaded his hand through the opening. He patted his hand.

"You're welcome."

Gilbert watched as Alfred sealed himself in a suspended lead case without air. Francis wrapped it in chains and backed up with a flourish once the locks were in place.

"… I hope he suffocates."

Gilbert glanced at Arthur. He was also watching Alfred practice but the rest of the performers were distracted with the standard chaos.

"That's a bit harsh."

"Mmm."

Gilbert returned his attention to the case. It was shaking a bit and wobbling back and forth. Alfred had been wearing chains when he went in but he must have been out of them about now. No one seemed worried.

"… What if he does suffocate?"

Arthur snorted.

"It will never happen."

"Why?"

"There have been three accidents," he raised three fingers to punctuate his point, "since he joined the circus and, each time something went wrong, his brother came running from the other side of the compound to save him. The other set of twins does that too, sometimes."

"Matthew knew something was wrong?"

"Ah, but then again, Matthew usually knows when something is wrong. Say what you want about the boy but he listens better than most of us and he sees more than anyone else."

"It sounds like you like him."

"I do not like anyone. You know that." Arthur shrugged his shoulders but Gilbert did not miss the way his eyes softened in relief when Alfred finally burst from the case with a gasping breath and collapsed into Francis' waiting arms. It seemed, instead, that Arthur liked almost everyone.

But he would rather bite his tongue off than admit it.

Gilbert walked through the maze of tents with Matthew and admired his silhouette against the setting sun. He had picked him up for dinner again but it seemed to him that Matthew expected him by now.

"How was practice?"

"Ah, a bit too much wind. You?"

"Matthias set the tent on fire again. Lukas wanted to throw the hot coals at him, I think, but it's hard to tell with him. Ivan was furious. It's not hard to tell with him."

Matthew laughed.

"No, it's not."

Gilbert thought about asking Matthew what Ivan wanted with him but decided against it. Whatever his issue was, it was between the two of them, and it was a matter of privilege to keep it between them.

Besides, he adored the sound of Matthew laughing and he would hate to interrupt it over someone as bothersome as Ivan.

"Get out of my way, idiot."

"I was here first."

"No, I was."

Gilbert and Elizabeta glared at each other over the crates and baskets clutched in their arms. Gilbert wanted to go west and she wanted to go east but the narrow lane between the tents was not wide enough for both of them.

"Look, this weighs a ton, so if you would just back up…"

"You know what else weighs a ton? An elephant, and your ego! You back up."

"I was here first!"

"Haven't you ever heard of 'ladies first'?"

"If I see a lady, I'll be sure to let her through."

Elizabeta gasped but it was more sardonic than serious. Gilbert thought she must enjoy these arguments as much as he did. They were not friends, not quite, but it seemed that they were no longer enemies.

"Roderich was right. You are boorish!"

"… What does that even mean?"

"… You know, I'm not sure…"

Alfred sat down next to him with an intense stare. Gilbert put up with it for all of two minutes before setting aside his porridge and turning to face him.

"Yes?"

"Ivan said that you're bothering my brother."

"… You talk to Ivan?" He had not seen that one coming but Alfred brushed it off as if it was meaningless.

"Never mind that. What're your intentions towards my brother?"

Gilbert furrowed his eyebrows in disbelief. What a stereotypical question to ask.

"Are you serious?"

"Deadly."

Gilbert sat and watched Matthew dance across the tightrope and frowned when he started jumping with another bit of swinging twine. He started bouncing from one pole to the other, skipping rope on one foot, and Gilbert had half a mind to climb up after him.

The other half of his mind said that was a bad idea.

"Are you still here?"

Gilbert glanced behind him to see a couple of acrobats step out from their practice tent. Bella was looking down at him from the summit of her stilts and leaning her hands on her hips. She was wearing oversized overalls that must have belonged to her brother. The ribbon in her hair was crooked and there was smudge of dirt on the tip of her nose.

"… Uh, yes."

"You better watch out for Ivan. He was just here."

Gilbert nodded his head. He was always a little nervous around Bella but he could not be sure if it was her nonchalant attitude or the fact that she was often towering over him.

Im Yong Soo jumped through the gap of her stilts and she kicked out one of her legs in an attempt to catch him. She missed.

"You really like him, huh?"

"Who?"

"Matthew."

"I suppose."

"Oh, please," he slipped some juggling bags from his long sleeves and started juggling four or five of them, "everyone is talking about it."

Bella kicked at him again.

"Who is 'everyone'?"

"Let's see… Alfred told Kiku who told Feliciano who told Lovino who told Antonio who told Bella who told me and I told everyone else!" He grinned and added another bag to the circle. Gilbert was not even sure how he managed to catch the bags when his sleeves were so long.

"… Did you tell Ivan?"

"Yes, just now!"

Gilbert swallowed and looked back up to where Matthew was still practicing.

"Fuck."

"You'll take care of him, right?"

"Who?"

"Matthew. Alfred said that you better."

Im Yong Soo was fifteen but he seemed even younger as he juggled and chattered in circles. Gilbert wanted to strangle him but he doubted that he even understood what he had done when he tattled to Ivan.

"… I will have to survive that long…"

"I am not sure what to do about Ivan. Punching him seems so… Gauche."

The polar bear smoothed his snout with one of his massive paws and Gilbert crossed his arms over his chest. He was standing just inside the tent with a clear exit in mind in case the animal came too close but the polar bear was sitting on the cot and ignoring him.

"I know, I know, but I tried ignoring him."

The polar bear licked his paw.

"I tried that too."

Kumajiro batted at the flies hovering over him.

"I just do not know what to do."

The polar bear settled down into a nest of blankets and turned his back on Gilbert.

"… And why am I asking you?"

Gilbert sat in the shadow of a large tent and watched Matthew balance up on the tightrope. The sunlight glinted off of his golden curls and highlighted the crispness of his uniform. Gilbert felt a slow, content smile spread across his face even as he reflected on his first three weeks.

There was no place that he would rather be.

He felt comfortable here, waiting for Matthew, and Ivan was just going to have to deal with it. He was tired of checking over his shoulder or under his cot for the murderous man. He wanted to make him understand without throwing punches but he doubted that he could.

He just wanted the other man to disappear.

Gilbert tried to distract himself with other thoughts but each one was as complicated as the last. His brother and Feliciano, Feliciano and Lovino, Lovino and Antonio. Francis and Arthur. Alfred.

Ugh.

He wished his brother happiness, sure, but he did not like the increasing distance between them. And he liked Feliciano, sure, but now Lovino missed him and he could understand how that felt. And then poor Antonio was worried.

Gilbert focused on Matthew and let the thoughts drift through his mind. It was a welcome distraction.

He thought about the other two instead but Francis and Arthur were more of a passing irritation. Francis would never stop until he found what he wanted and Arthur was too stubborn to give it to him.

He moved on to the next issue.

Alfred.

How was Gilbert supposed to explain to Matthew's twin brother that he wanted into his white, cotton trousers? Alfred would punch him. He had avoided him for now but he would have to answer him soon enough. Also, what reason could he have for talking to Ivan in the first place? That bothered him… The two of them were such opposites.

Ugh.

It had come full circle back to his most pressing problem…

Ivan.

And his incessant need to stand between him and Matthew.

Gilbert scratched his head with rough nails. It was so frustrating. He did not understand. Performers were known for sleeping around and loose morals but this circus was different.

Or, perhaps, Matthew was different.

Gilbert watched as the blonde pranced across the tightrope and felt his heart twinge. He saw Gilbert down below and bent forward with a wave and a laugh that made his stomach drop. None of his organs knew what was happening when the acrobat was around.

Yes, perhaps that was it.

Matthew was different.

Matthew started walking toward one of the poles and Gilbert pushed up off of the dirt. He buried the other thoughts in his mind, the ones about his brother or his friends or the threats, and focused on the blonde.

Matthew touched down and he passed him a towel.

"Were you waiting long?" He asked as he accepted the towel. His voice was a little rough from practice but the sound of it washed Gilbert clean of doubt and reservations.

Matthew was different. He was sure of it.

"I would have waited a lot longer than that."

He blushed. Gilbert reached out on a whim and tucked one of his curls behind his ear in tender gesture. He paused with his hand still there, tangled in the sweat and sweet perfume, and watched Matthew for a reaction.

Matthew blinked before such a smile bloomed across his face that it stole his breath. He leaned against his cupping hand and Gilbert leaned forward.

He stopped when Matthew gasped and pushed back.

"Gilbert, watch…"

Someone clutched his shoulder and spun him on the spot. Gilbert came face to face with a furious man. His expression was so contorted that it took Gilbert a moment to recognize Ivan.

"Now? We have a problem."

Ivan punched him in the chin with all of his strength.

Author's Notes:

Siblings… It's complicated business!

This chapter jumps around a bit, still within a stream of thought, to cover some time and the relationships that Gilbert has managed to cultivate since arriving. His brother would have cultivated relationships of his own. This is one of those stories that, if I wanted, after it was done I could write one shots from other points of view and explore what other characters were up to. That is one of the nice bits of creating a whole universe.

These problems and relationships will continue to progress in future chapters. I have this piece mapped out at about twenty chapters so there is still a way to go.

As before, there are many characters to touch on here but the most important relationship will remain at the centre of it all.

Just a note: I picture the clowns in the more classic French and Italian styles. Sweden would be a 'whiteface clown'(the straight man), Finland would be the 'contra auguste' (the mediator between the straight man and the fool and who looks up to the straight man), and Spain and The Netherlands would be an 'auguste' (the troublemaker and fool).

Please leave a review and feel free to offer opinions, advice, or criticism. All are welcome. You are free to leave an anonymous review, I do not mind, just please let me know what you think of this piece.