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Hurray! Carlos had done it once again! Carlos the Scientist had saved Night Vale from its latest horror! It had been rats. Rats in the walls. Rats in the sand. Rats everywhere. Even the Glow Cloud had been shocked and horrified at the amount of rats that covered the town. They had been purple with green polka dots and had emitted a noxious fume that had disoriented a number of townspeople and had killed several others. It had taken most of the day, but by the end of it, Carlos was hearing his name lauded on the radio “Sweet, smart, perfect Carlos” had once again saved them.
But not without incurring some danger onto himself. Carlos stumbled in the streets, waving to a few people as he unsteadily made his way to Cecil’s apartment. The gas had made its way into Carlos’s system. He had taken the antidote, but it would still be twelve hours before he would be completely healed. The world spun. He was dizzy, disoriented, and his body felt strange. He wanted bread, hugs and sleep, and didn’t entirely care in what order he got them.
He was leaning against the threshold of the door when Cecil opened his apartment door. “I’m coming over for personal reasons--” he began and then his body gave an involuntary shudder. The next thing he knew, Cecil was shuffling him inside, closing the door behind them.
“I..I…” Carlos began and then broke down into sobs. He hated the rats, had seen the effects of how people broke down, sobbing. He felt like a fool and a child, his emotions exposed raw. His lab coat was being taken off, his hand taken up and he was led to the bedroom.
“It’s alright,” Cecil said, his voice soft but still in his radio tone. As if he were announcing to the town, and not Carlos, that everything would be fine.
He was laying down on Cecil’s sheets, curling into himself. He felt Cecil slide in next to him, his own body wrapping around him, spooning him. Safe.
There were fingers in his hair - Cecil’s fingers in his hair. Cecil’s palm cupping his head before fingers combed outwards towards the end of the strands. “You’re safe.” Cecil whispered, his fingers continue to run through Carlos’s hair, his hands stroking and petting the top of his head, his hair. It was working. Carlos felt his pulse begin to slow and beat regularly again.
Carlos relaxed as Cecil had one hand in his hair, the other wrapped around his waist, holding him tight.
“I would kiss you,” Cecil began, his voice low and deep, whisper soft against his ear. That was the voice of seduction, of danger.
“Cecil--”
“I would kiss you. Trail my mouth down your neck, along your collar bone. I would make sure that every inch of your skin was covered in my lips before I continued down.”
Carlos opened his mouth, ready to argue, but Cecil’s hands and body weren’t taking action. He seemed to understand just how exhausted and dazed Carlos was.
“I would unbutton your shirt, slide it off you and let my hands trail down your arms. I would let my tongue caress your nipples, listen to the beat of your heart warm my ears. My hands would trail down to your hips and I would slide off your pants, your boxers. I’d let my tongue explore you.”
Carlos who had been so perfectly relaxed found himself feeling every exhale of breath, his pulse quickening again. They still laid there, completely clothed, Cecil’s hand in his hair - not moving now, just tangled in his tresses - while the other hand was still wrapped around his waist. He was holding him close and tight. He could feel the beginnings of Cecil’s cock grow hard against him. Carlos had to bite his lip, finding himself aroused in response as he continued to listen.
“My mouth would slip over you, I’d take all of you into me and I would suck,” Cecil extended the word ‘suck’, “letting my tongue slip and slide underneath you. Rolling over you. I would hum and take you deep. My hand sliding up your thigh, to cup your balls. I’m playing with those two. Massaging them as I’m drinking you. I’d pull off for a moment so I could go to them, and I would suck them too. Suck and lick before I came back up and sucked at your beautiful, perfect cock.”
Carlos had closed his eyes, letting his mind imagine Cecil’s narrative. His cock was hard now and he whimpered at the thought of it all happening.
“My lips and mouth working at you, my tongue swiping over the head of you. I’d work until you came my wonderful Carlos. My sexy, indulgent Carlos. I would swallow you up and ask for nothing in return.”
“Cecil…” Carlos whispered. He would return the favor. He always did. He was rewarded with a squeeze around his middle and a kiss along his jaw.
“Sleep my Carlos. See what morning brings you.”
Carlos was sure he wouldn’t sleep, not with his erect cock and Cecil against him. But the exhaustion of the day overwhelmed him and he soon found himself fast asleep.
~*~
It was the smell of coffee that woke Carlos up the next morning. It had been at least six months since his last cup. Night Vale was always waffling between banning it and not banning it. It must be unbanned this week as the aroma assaulted his nose and helped force his eyes open.
He was in Cecil’s bedroom, still clothed, and listened as his stomach gurgled. The radio was on in the kitchen and it sounded like Koshekh had been given his own radio show. Carlos slowly made his way through the small living room until he reached the kitchen. Cecil stood over the stove, dressed in plaid slacks and a neon hounds tooth shirt with a yellow apron over the ensemble.
“Morning sleepy head!” Cecil said cheerfully as he flipped what appeared to be
“Pancakes?” Carlos asked.
“Brown rice pancakes. There’s also Government approved Grade B maple syrup on the table. How do you like your eggs?”
“Sunny side up,” Carlos replied as he poured himself a cup of coffee. He glanced at the counter and found two leather bound City Council approved Dream journals sitting near the far end.
“How did--” Carlos began and then stopped himself.
“Oh, Sheriff’s Secret Police brought it over last night. I thought you’d be too exhausted to fill yours out, but you’re really getting quite the handle on it. You woke up at six in the morning, babbling about something and put in your entry.” Cecil plated the pancakes - they were in the shape of an eye - as well as the eggs and they sat down to breakfast.
Carlos picked up his dream journal and read the entry for last night, blushing as he took another sip of his coffee.
“Oh, that must be good. Tell me, what did you dream about? You wrote for quite awhile this morning. I’ll help you uncover the deeper meanings.” Cecil began to cut up his pancakes.
Carlos shook his head and began to read, “I take Cecil into my arms, covering him in kisses until he begs me to stop. It does no good. I put his hands in my hair and begin to fuck him until he comes, screaming my name.”
Cecil had stopped fussing with his breakfast to stare at Carlos. The blush that had been on Carlos’s face now appeared on Cecil’s. Cecil coughed.
“I dreamt I ate the moon and then I peeled off my right toe nail and uncovered the stars. But I tossed my toenail away and ...Steve Carlsberg ate it.”
They were quiet for a moment before Cecil looked up.
“Tell me your dream again? In detail?” Cecil asked.
Carlos smiled and did better than that. He showed him.