Cecil awoke to a searing pain in his back, burning its way up his shoulders, down his back and arms and spreading across his chest. He was unable to force himself to a sitting position, so he waited it out instead, gritting his teeth. It felt like hours when it finally disappeared as suddenly as it had come, leaving him covered in a layer of sweat. He climbed out of bed, yanking his night shirt up over his head to look at his body in the dim blue light of his digital alarm clock.
All over him were the dark shapes of what he thought must be tentacles, apparently tattooed on him as he slept. He felt his heart beat faster as he raced to the bathroom, flipping on the now blinding light to get a better look at his reflection. Once his eyes adjusted he could see that the markings were a dark purple, going all down his arms and even curling their way up his neck until they almost reached his chin. His mouth opened wide in horror as the panic set in. As if spurred on by his fear, the shapes began to move, writhing about and finally lifting away from his skin to twist around each other in a frenzy.
That's when the piercing pain started in his forehead, so intense that it caused him to collapse. His tentacles withdrew and became tattoos again, almost still against his skin as he lay on the ground.
How much time passed like that he could not say, and as it went on he decided that this was all ridiculous. When the pain finally subsided he could do nothing but lay there in his exhaustion. It was then that he realized that his eyes were closed. Well if they were, then how was he seeing? And why could he see Big Rico's if he was laying on his back in the bathroom. He didn't live under Big Rico's, and his ceiling didn't face the front of the restaurant either. Well, it could be a dream. He reasoned with himself. Yes, of course it was, that was the only explanation.
Well in that case he might as well get up and go to bed, come to think of it he wasn't sure why he was here, he didn't sleepwalk to his knowledge. There's a first time for everything though. He reminded himself, and the tentacles were a dream, he just had a headache. He used the edge of the countertop to pull himself up. Tentacles still all over him, and now a third eye on his forehead. No, it was a dream, he was still sleepwalking. He just needed to go to bed and in the morning it would all be back to normal.
The journey to his room in the blackness was more than a little hazardous, without his sight the constantly changing hallways were hard to maneuver, and this time his eyes weren't adjusted at all. Finally he was there, and immediately collapsed into bed, falling asleep at once. No, he was already asleep and this was all a dream. Yeah.
He saw Carlos, asleep under the covers in his bedroom. He looked so peaceful in his sleep, curled around a pillow, hugging it to his chest. Even the drool in the corner of his mouth was perfect and peaceful. His perfect Carlos...
The sun was up when he awoke, plenty of time to get ready for school. High school here was different than other places, or so Carlos told him. Other places started early in the morning, when it was still dark. They used little clocks like the one Cecil had beside his bed (a gift from Carlos) to wake them up instead of the standard telepathic wake up call sent out to everyone when the sun was able to be called risen. He was probably right, Carlos was always right. Cecil rubbed his eyes blearily, standing up to walk to his closet. He was halfway there when he caught sight of himself in the mirror.
What was that on his arms and chest, climbing up to his neck? What was that on his forehead? He walked toward his reflection, staring it down as though it might change if he willed it to. No, of course not, that never worked. The tentacles from last night were still there, and the third eye watched him coldly. It was purple and just stared straight ahead. He couldn't seem to close it even though he tried.
Oh no, this was the end. He had hit middle third puberty, he would never be normal again. Other people wouldn't care, but what about his precious Carlos? From what he gathered, middle third puberty didn't happen where he came from. What if he didn't understand? What if he didn't like his eye? What if he thought the tentacles were real tattoos? He didn't even know if Carlos liked tattoos. It was August, but he needed to cover them up. What to do, what to do? He ran to the closet, digging around until he found what he was looking for.
Cecil walked to the front door of the school, sweating profusely in his purple turtleneck sweater that covered most of his body. His hair was brushed down over his forehead in an effort to cover the eye, and he thought he had done a very good job of looking normal, just so long as Carlos didn't look too closely.
As he thought about the flawless dark skinned boy, he saw him. Carlos was behind him, he could see his face somehow, he suspected it was his third eye doing something unusual. Cecil walked faster, almost running through the school to slide into his desk for English class. It was his only class today, something else Carlos said was unusual, and he couldn't remember who was in it with him. It was hard to keep up with since they never had the same class members more than eight times in the year. He was the first there, joined by Steve Carlsburg and John Peters. He had never liked Steve, he was always asking stupid questions, like 'How do we know the clock tower moves if its invisible' ugh, what a spoilsport.
He watched Carlos enter the room, and sit in the desk next to him, setting a slip of paper down next to his hand.
He reluctantly unfolded it to read the words "Are you okay?" Written in Carlos's perfect handwriting. He returned the message with one saying "I am always okay, nothing is ever wrong and it is a miracle."
He could tell Carlos didn't like his answer as he spoke up. "Cecil, you know it's ok-"
He was interrupted as a hooded figure entered the room with the usual crackling static. It spat papers over the floor before floating to the corner, where it hovered quietly, facing them. No one made a sound as they each picked up a paper, and returned to their seats to do their work in complete silence. Once each person was finished their paper changed to a different one, and on and on until the bell rang signaling the end of school. It was of course how each day went, staying in the same room until they could leave. Cecil gathered his things and walked out of the room quickly. He was almost out of the school when Carlos caught up with him.
"Cecil, why are you avoiding me like this?"
"I'm not avoiding you, you're avoiding me." It was a long shot but maybe Carlos would just agree and go home.
"That doesn't even make sense. Cecil, whatever is wrong you can tell me. You know I like you, I'm still going to like you whatever it is."
"There's noting wrong." It wasn't really a lie, middle third puberty was a normal occurrence for Night Vale residents. Not everyone got a third eye or tentacles, but everyone was different.
Carlos huffed and looked down at his feet, which must mean he had excepted it and would now move on. Cecil turned away to rush home, but before he could Carlos had pulled him closer and moved his hair back. His beautiful brown eyes grew wider at the horrible sight and Cecil fell to the ground, curling into a ball as his tentacles rose from skin and covered every bit of him from the outside world. He counted what he thought must be three minutes before anything happened.
"Cecil." It was his perfect Carlos, speaking to him from the darkness enveloping him. His third eye watched him through it all. "You can come out now. It's okay."
"It's not okay, it's not normal where you come from and you think it's disgusting, don't even bother pretending." He sobbed.
"No I don't, I actually think its kind of cool. How many people can just pop out tentacles..." He trailed off. "Unless they're always there I guess. How does that work?"
He felt the purple limbs retreating under his clothes as he sat up. "You don't hate it?"
"No, of course not. I do want to see where those went though." A perfect smile crept across perfect Carlos's face. "Do you mind taking that off?"
Cecil pulled the sweater off without hesitation, sighing in relief at the cooler air against his skin. He barely remembered that they were still in the hallway until three hooded figures began gliding toward them, a loud disapproving static emanating from them.
The two teenagers scrambled to the door, making it out before the figures got there, and walking briskly home as Carlos studied the purple tattoos with wide eyes. Somehow he could hear the questions buzzing around his head, and he stopped outside his own house. As Carlos began to open him mouth, Cecil put a hand up. "I don't know, they just showed up."
The other nodded and opened his mouth to ask the next question. But before he could get it out he was stopped as Cecil's lips pressed against his. It didn't last long, but Cecil smiled as he pulled away, watching Carlos's perfect blushing face. "Questions later." Carlos nodded as he wrapped his arms around his neck, fingers tracing the tentacles on it as their lips met in another kiss.