Names Called in the Night

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I am just playing in this sandbox.

Post-48 (Renovations)

It was the middle of the night and, after episode 48, I was struck with the urge to write a reunion between Cecil and Carlos, after Cecil retakes his studio and signs off for the night. Carlos might be on the run, but something tells me he would want to see his boyfriend, once said boyfriend got out of the Strex Corp Company Picnic (of Doom!). This is the result of that. It's fluffy and chock full of Cecilos goodness.

Anyway, with that in mind, please enjoy my attempts at writing Welcome to Night Vale.

"Cecil?"

That voice – that beautiful, perfect, oaky voice – was quiet, concerned, and oh so uncertain. That voice was scared, afraid of the not-so-benevolent overlords who owned, in this town, all but the radio station. The tone bespoke worry and fear and the knowledge that that horrid Smiling God would reign retribution upon them because of his stance against the corporation and his former bosses.

Again, that wonderful voice asked, so small, so fragile, "Cecil?"

And Cecil turned, eyes wide, scanning the irregular shadows cast by the street lights for the voice that he held so dear. His heart pounded and emotions coursed through him, an equal mix relief at the sound of the voice and fear for the owner of that same voice.

But then – he saw him – and he froze.

"Carlos," he breathed, all previous anxiety evaporating into the air. Something quite like a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "Oh, Carlos."

Even hidden in the shadows, it was perfectly clear to the intrepid radio host that the scientist was far worse for the wear, having been on the run from Strex Corp. His hair, usually mussed in that absent-minded way that was so natural for a scientist, was perfectly unruly. His clothes were rumpled past any form of acceptable and his lab coat was in desperate need of cleaning.

The fear was still in his eyes, on his face, in his stance. Cecil saw it so plainly, even as he stood at a distance.

Carlos, sweet Carlos!

It had been a month, only a month! But, curse it all, four weeks was too long to spend away from this unusual and wonderful man who studied their town. Curse that Strex Corp, for keeping him away! For sending Carlos on the run!

Cecil had expected that he would not see Carlos for a far longer period of time. Carlos was, after all, supposed to be on the run from them, his team of scientists under arrest, but here he was!

"I heard the radio show," Carlos said, his voice still too small and afraid. "You're back."

And that smile was full-blown now.

"I am." Cecil took a step towards Carlos and the scientist did not back away from him. Tears filled his eyes as he took in the scientist – his scientist. "You've been on the run."

"I have been. You're back now." He couldn't quite meet Cecil's eyes, even as Cecil moves closer to him, slowly but surely, growing concern filling the radio host's stomach. "I had to see you."

And that's enough for Cecil.

He closed the scant distance remaining between them and they reach for one another, tears flowing freely now. Cecil buried his face into his boyfriend's neck, inhaling his very distinct scent, even as Carlos turned his cheek, carrying many days' worth of stubble, into the side of Cecil's head. Their arms are folded around one another in a tight embrace, so afraid that they'll be ripped away from each other again. Cecil isn't quite sure who breaks the embrace first, but he knows that his hand ends up buried in Carlos' perfect, unruly hair and Carlos has a hand on the back of his neck, as their lips meet in a very long overdue kiss.

It feels so good to kiss Carlos again. The sweetness that always finds its way into their kisses is back and it feels even more right than it ever had before.

But, despite this reunion, they cannot stay – at least not in the street.

They are in the open and Night Vale is more dangerous than usual now.

Carlos' lab is still under surveillance from Strex and, no doubt, their shared apartment is as well. If it were just the Sheriff's Secret Police or the Vague-Yet-Menacing Government Agency monitoring them, neither one would be particularly concerned, but it's not. This is Strex Corp and Cecil was genuinely afraid – not for himself, but for his Carlos.

And so they find themselves back in Cecil's old apartment, the one that he had lived in before they had moved in together. It was one of the apartments in Night Vale that was always rented out to a radio host or an Intern at the Station as part of their compensation. No one had moved in yet. None of their Interns stuck around long enough to take over the lease, so it still – arguably – was Cecil's.

It even still had the few assorted items that Cecil hadn't bothered to take with him to their place, either because they were no longer needed or because Carlos had a better version of them. Blessedly, his old bed, a rickety bed frame with a fairly comfortable twin mattress on it, was one of the things left behind. Carlos had brought a queen-size with memory foam and Cecil was all for using that one and, as such, left his old bed behind. There were other things that they could go through, in the light of day, once they were rested and could figure out their next steps, but, for tonight, that bed was all either one of them needed.

Well, that and food and a shower

The utilities were still functioning – to some degree. More than a few of the lights were burnt out. The gas was running and they managed to scrounge up a few unopened boxes of pasta, several jars of assorted spaghetti sauces, among other things. Hunger took priority and, after fifteen minutes, they were sharing pasta and sauce in a large, old mixing bowl that had seen better days. But it was satisfying and that was all that mattered.

Carlos needed a shower and his clothes could do with a washing. Cecil didn't have the energy to check to state of the laundry in the basement of the building. Besides, he didn't have enough coins on him at the moment to operate the machines. Koshekh rather enjoyed eating them as snacks, when they weren't paying attention.

Cecil helped Carlos out of his dirty clothes, supplying kisses and tender touches as he went. Carlos needed those. They both needed those.

The shower was lukewarm, but Carlos made no complaints, standing under the streaming water as Cecil attended to his clothes in the sink. There was only so much that the radio host could do without a washing machine, but he would be damned if his precious Carlos wouldn't, at least, have something akin to clean. Finally, at long last, Cecil hung Carlos' clothes up to dry, peeled out his own clothes, and joined his boyfriend in the shower.

Neither one spoke but Carlos leaned into Cecil's touch and they cleaned each other off.

Later, much later, as they lay in the too-small bed, limbs intertwined, skin bare between the sheets, Carlos pressed his lips to Cecil's ear and said, "I love you, Cecil."

Cecil smiled.

Strex Corp could spy on them, buy out the town, attempt to change everything, and control everyone. They could try to impose the Smiling God and force everyone to attend a company picnic. They could attempt to cancel the mayoral elections (not that those elections mattered anyway).

But this?

This, what he had with his Carlos, they could not take away. The gentle way that Carlos' fingers rubbed circles into the skin of Cecil's upper back and the fact that Cecil could run his hand through Carlos' hair, the fact that they had studied each other's body and the responses that they produced to intimate embraces (for science, of course), the fact that Carlos liked to do chores during heat waves and that Cecil liked to cook at odd hours, that was all them. Strex Corp could not take that away from them.

"I love you too, Carlos."

And, as glowing lights passed over head, they were good.

I hope you enjoyed this first attempt at writing Cecilos. It was not nearly as smutty as I thought it was going to be, but I hope you liked it regardless.

Please review and let me know what you thought! I love the feedback.