soft and only; lost and lonely
welcome to night vale. carlos/cecil.
762 words.
Summary: It had all been going so well, so perfectly well, so beautifully, efficiently well.
Note: Written for this prompt. WHAT AM I EVEN DOING ATTEMPTING NIGHT VALE FIC TBH.
The darkness is not darkness. The dense velvet of the sky is peppered with explosive stars – not fireworks, as Carlos had initially exposited, but stars, as Cecil quickly corrected. Each star shivers and swells and shivers and swells until it bursts like a popped balloon, multi-colored lights flaring out in swirls around the void where once a star had been.
Sparks rain down on the ground beside Carlos' head.
Carlos blinks. "Well," he says.
He knew, of course, that no good could come from being outside in Night Vale for too long – or indoors in Night Vale for too long, or anywhere in Night Vale for too long. But tests had to be run and dates had to be dated, and in an attempt to be more efficient Carlos had wanted to combine the two, especially since Cecil so seemed to enjoy it when Carlos took him along for experiments.
Though a part of him knows Cecil's motives are much less scientific.
It had all been going so well, so perfectly well, so beautifully, efficiently well: the monitoring of the combustive heavens and their effect on – Carlos mentally clears his throat to remind himself that the angels are not real. It had all been going perfectly well until Cecil wrapped his very long, very thin, very bony, very pale fingers around Carlos' sturdy wrist, leaning in close to look at Carlos' clipboard. And Carlos had turned his head without thinking to kiss Cecil, partially because he could not ignore the urge when in such close proximity, and partially because there is something about Cecil's mouth that makes Carlos often want to kiss him, something about the way the corners of his lips seem to pull upwards in a slight, perpetual grin. There is something sinister in Cecil's little grinning mouth, in Cecil's pale eyes, and Carlos finds that something sinister very intriguing indeed.
So he had kissed Cecil, intending it to be brief and quick and romantic, but Cecil's fingers had climbed spider-like up Carlos' arm, danced over the stubble at his throat, and finally fisted in his hair and then – well, then Carlos was just gone.
But not in the way Night Vale citizens are often just gone, i.e. disappearing entirely as if they were never there, sometimes reappearing and sometimes not, their bank accounts going empty and family members answering queries only with smiles and shrugs. No, Carlos is gone in a wonderfully metaphoric way, forgetting his tests and his clipboards and even the skies, for a moment. He is gone in the delicious dangerous taste of Cecil, putting his hands on Cecil's slim waist and letting the kiss have him.
They end up on the soft grassy earth (which it is HIGHLY SUGGESTED by the City Council that one AVOID AT ALL COSTS), which is when the darkness that is not darkness starts going utterly berserk and raining down star particles around them.
"I think perhaps we ought to leave," Carlos says, breathless. Cecil's mouth is at Carlos' throat, teeth gentle on the skin there until they are not so gentle and Carlos has to remind him, not for the first time, "Try not to break the skin –"
But Cecil hushes him, that low slow soothing voice. "My dear," he murmurs, "dear, sweet Carlos."
He leans over Carlos with one had buried in the grass, the other trailing over Carlos' already-slightly-sore neck. He straddles Carlos' hips. The glow of the stars is in his hair and his face is shadowed, ominous, arresting.
The endearments make Carlos flush. Cecil's unwavering attention is so wonderfully horrible and horribly wonderful, it makes Carlos feel stupid and young, it makes Carlos embarrassed by how pleased he is. At first he thought it was only the strange town unaccustomed to outsiders, but after a few weeks everyone grew used to him. Everyone except Cecil.
"What?" Carlos asks, tilting up to capture Cecil's curling lips in another kiss.
Cecil's smile widens and he murmurs against Carlos' mouth, "Do not move, or even blink. We have visitors."
Carlos' brow creases in confusion until, over Cecil's shoulder, he sees a figure hovering slightly off the ground in dark hooded robes with a face that is not a face but merely ever-deepening shadows. Carlos' blood turns to ice and he freezes in place, unintentionally following Cecil's order to the letter.
"Be still, my lovely Carlos," Cecil says softly, but Cecil is not still, those long fingers are sliding each button free all down Carlos' shirt. "Love is not without its risks."
welcome to night vale. carlos/cecil.
762 words.
Summary: It had all been going so well, so perfectly well, so beautifully, efficiently well.
Note: Written for this prompt. WHAT AM I EVEN DOING ATTEMPTING NIGHT VALE FIC TBH.
The darkness is not darkness. The dense velvet of the sky is peppered with explosive stars – not fireworks, as Carlos had initially exposited, but stars, as Cecil quickly corrected. Each star shivers and swells and shivers and swells until it bursts like a popped balloon, multi-colored lights flaring out in swirls around the void where once a star had been.
Sparks rain down on the ground beside Carlos' head.
Carlos blinks. "Well," he says.
He knew, of course, that no good could come from being outside in Night Vale for too long – or indoors in Night Vale for too long, or anywhere in Night Vale for too long. But tests had to be run and dates had to be dated, and in an attempt to be more efficient Carlos had wanted to combine the two, especially since Cecil so seemed to enjoy it when Carlos took him along for experiments.
Though a part of him knows Cecil's motives are much less scientific.
It had all been going so well, so perfectly well, so beautifully, efficiently well: the monitoring of the combustive heavens and their effect on – Carlos mentally clears his throat to remind himself that the angels are not real. It had all been going perfectly well until Cecil wrapped his very long, very thin, very bony, very pale fingers around Carlos' sturdy wrist, leaning in close to look at Carlos' clipboard. And Carlos had turned his head without thinking to kiss Cecil, partially because he could not ignore the urge when in such close proximity, and partially because there is something about Cecil's mouth that makes Carlos often want to kiss him, something about the way the corners of his lips seem to pull upwards in a slight, perpetual grin. There is something sinister in Cecil's little grinning mouth, in Cecil's pale eyes, and Carlos finds that something sinister very intriguing indeed.
So he had kissed Cecil, intending it to be brief and quick and romantic, but Cecil's fingers had climbed spider-like up Carlos' arm, danced over the stubble at his throat, and finally fisted in his hair and then – well, then Carlos was just gone.
But not in the way Night Vale citizens are often just gone, i.e. disappearing entirely as if they were never there, sometimes reappearing and sometimes not, their bank accounts going empty and family members answering queries only with smiles and shrugs. No, Carlos is gone in a wonderfully metaphoric way, forgetting his tests and his clipboards and even the skies, for a moment. He is gone in the delicious dangerous taste of Cecil, putting his hands on Cecil's slim waist and letting the kiss have him.
They end up on the soft grassy earth (which it is HIGHLY SUGGESTED by the City Council that one AVOID AT ALL COSTS), which is when the darkness that is not darkness starts going utterly berserk and raining down star particles around them.
"I think perhaps we ought to leave," Carlos says, breathless. Cecil's mouth is at Carlos' throat, teeth gentle on the skin there until they are not so gentle and Carlos has to remind him, not for the first time, "Try not to break the skin –"
But Cecil hushes him, that low slow soothing voice. "My dear," he murmurs, "dear, sweet Carlos."
He leans over Carlos with one had buried in the grass, the other trailing over Carlos' already-slightly-sore neck. He straddles Carlos' hips. The glow of the stars is in his hair and his face is shadowed, ominous, arresting.
The endearments make Carlos flush. Cecil's unwavering attention is so wonderfully horrible and horribly wonderful, it makes Carlos feel stupid and young, it makes Carlos embarrassed by how pleased he is. At first he thought it was only the strange town unaccustomed to outsiders, but after a few weeks everyone grew used to him. Everyone except Cecil.
"What?" Carlos asks, tilting up to capture Cecil's curling lips in another kiss.
Cecil's smile widens and he murmurs against Carlos' mouth, "Do not move, or even blink. We have visitors."
Carlos' brow creases in confusion until, over Cecil's shoulder, he sees a figure hovering slightly off the ground in dark hooded robes with a face that is not a face but merely ever-deepening shadows. Carlos' blood turns to ice and he freezes in place, unintentionally following Cecil's order to the letter.
"Be still, my lovely Carlos," Cecil says softly, but Cecil is not still, those long fingers are sliding each button free all down Carlos' shirt. "Love is not without its risks."