Cecil looked over at the chiming laptop from his spot at the counter in the kitchen. He sighed and set the now empty bottle of wine down in the sink to take care of later. Only tripping over his feet once, he made it into the living room where Carlos's Skype icon was displayed on the laptop screen.

Sitting down on the sofa, Cecil pulled the computer off of the coffee table and into his lap and answered the call.

"Hi Cecil!" Carlos greeted from the screen. Cecil smiled at him.

"Hello sweet Carlos," Cecil answered. "And just how are you this fine evening?"

Carlos played along with Cecil's formal greeting. "I am good, thank you. And how are you?"

"I'm just wonderful!" Cecil told him and burst into giggles that went on for a while. Carlos had began to giggle as well, but not nearly as animatedly as Cecil did.

"What's so funny, Ceec?" Carlos asked as Cecil's laughing died down to a chuckle.

"Oh, nothing," Cecil told him flippantly. "Just you, and me, and I'm drunk. Nothing at all." Cecil began to chuckle again.

"Wait—you're drunk?" Carlos asked, his laughter having stopped entirely and his face now donned a very concerned expression.

Cecil nodded gaily at him and Carlos immediately told him to go into the kitchen and drink an entire glass of water right now. When Cecil began to protest, Carlos cut him off and repeated his orders, slower this time.

Once Cecil got into the kitchen, however, he forgot what he was doing there. Going into the fridge, he saw the six pack of beers that he had bought the other day when he picked up the wine. Grabbing one, he opened it and drank it down, throwing the leftover can into the sink with the wine bottle. Cecil walked back into the living room and collapsed onto the couch.

"Do you feel better?" Carlos asked. Cecil nodded again and Carlos seemed to be satisfied. "Okay, Ceec. Why'd you get drunk today? What happened to make you want to do that?"

Cecil shrugged. "It's Wine Time," he said and burst into giggles again. Carlos waited until he calmed down again to ask what 'Wine Time' was.

"It's the time of the day that I drink an alcoholic beverage, usually a couple bottles of wine, but I also have beer in the fridge," he explained. Carlos looked shocked.

"You do this every day?" he asked and Cecil nodded happily. "Why?"

At this, Cecil huffed and seemed to lose his aura of giddiness. "Because, Carlos, you are not here anymore, so what do I have to do every single goddamn night? Nothing! That's what. I don't have anything to look forward to except your calls—which do not even last very long anymore—and my Wine Time. And I'd very much like to keep it that way, thank you very much." At the end of his rant, Cecil crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the couch.

Carlos looked at a loss for words. "Oh, Cecil, I'm so sorry. Do you have any drinks with you in the living room?" Cecil shook his head somberly and Carlos continued. "Good. Okay, what did you do at work today?"

As Cecil recounted his day, he noticed that Carlos seemed less and less interested as he went on, looking down on his side of the video instead of looking at Cecil while he talked. He also didn't add any commentary like he usually did.

Suddenly, Cecil cut himself off and said, "You know, I'm really tired. I'm gonna go to bed."

Carlos looked up quickly and said, "Okay, Cecil. Goodnight and—" But Cecil cut-off what Carlos was about to say with his own quick "Goodnight," and shut the laptop. He rubbed his hands down his face and through his hair a couple times before he worked up the energy to stand up and head off to bed.

The next few days were pretty much the same for Cecil. He woke up in the morning, went to work, and came home. Although, he pushed Wine Time back so that he wasn't drunk on his call with Carlos. However, since Carlos had been calling a little bit later than usual, this meant that Cecil was drinking well into the night and became badly hungover at work.

The funny thing was, though, that Carlos didn't mention Cecil's drinking anymore; not since a couple nights ago. Cecil would have thought it was weird and out of the ordinary, but he couldn't bring himself to care as long as he and Carlos were both happy. . . . Well, not 'happy,' per se, but satisfied.

One night, when Cecil got home from work, he opened his laptop and waited for Carlos's call. But it never came. Looking at the clock, Cecil began to worry. Carlos never called this late. And he never didn't call at all.

Is it because of my drinking? Cecil wondered in alarm as he paced his living room. Oh my god, I drove him away because I couldn't keep it together.

Cecil's eyes widened in fear and surprise. How could I not think of Carlos and how he would feel about this?

Suddenly, Cecil broke out into a run towards the kitchen. He threw open the fridge, grabbed the beers that were there, and opened each one to empty into the sink. Then, he took the wine bottle from under the sink and quickly smashed it against the sink out of anger. The glass shattered and drops of red wine got everywhere, including splattered across Cecil's face and clothes. Shards embedded themselves into Cecil's hand and he quickly pulled it back, cradling the injured hand with his good one.

Suddenly, he heard a knock at the door. Who would be here now? Cecil attempted to clean up the counter and himself, but only managed to wipe up the wine that was on smooth surfaces like the countertop, sink, and his face. The red stains stayed in his clothes. Holding the rag tightly in his bleeding hand, Cecil went to answer the door, which had knocked twice more while he was still in the kitchen.

Cecil opened the door just enough to see who it was and tell them to go away. But, right as he opened it, the words caught in his mouth. Right outside his apartment door—their apartment door—was Carlos!

"Oh my god," Cecil whispered under his breath right before throwing open the door so hard that it hit the wall behind it with a bang. Cecil jumped forward and threw his arms around Carlos's neck, holding him tightly.

Carlos didn't say anything as he hugged Cecil just as tightly. Eventually Carlos pulled back and smiled at his boyfriend.

"Hi Cecil," he said and Cecil let out a laugh.

"That's what you said when you first talked to me from the Desert Otherworld."

Carlos let out a small chuckle and nodded his head. "Yeah, I did say that."

They stood there for a few seconds in silence, not knowing what to say to the other, or, more appropriately, not knowing where to start. Carlos looked down at his watch and said, "It's really late. We should go to bed. You have work tomorrow."

Cecil just nodded his head, not trusting his mouth to say anything. Carlos reached for Cecil's hand and unfortunately, it was the one bleeding into the rag. Once he felt the rag in Cecil's hand, Carlos looked down and gasped.

"Cecil! Are you bleeding?" Cecil had to look down to check because he couldn't remember if he was or wasn't anymore.

"Oh. Yeah, I—I think so," he said, stumbling through the cloud of haze in his mind.

"Oh my god. Let's get inside so I can clean this," Carlos told him and pulled him by the arm whilst holding his injured hand. Cecil mindlessly followed and Carlos sat him down on the sofa, telling him to wait there.

Cecil did and eventually Carlos came back with a clean rag, antiseptic, and bandages in his arms. As Carlos got to work, Cecil just stared at his boyfriend, paying no mind to what he was doing with his Cecil's hand. Cecil watched Carlos's face as he worked, the look of determination evident in his eyes as they refrained from straying from his work and meeting Cecil's gaze.

Cecil gasped with pain as Carlos poured the antiseptic over the cuts. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. That was it. That was the bad part," Carlos soothed as the quickly dabbed at his hand with the clean side of the now dirty rag that he had brought and began bandaging it. Cecil now watched Carlos's hands work on his own hand.

After what seemed like forever, Carlos told Cecil that he was finished and that they should really get to bed. Carlos stood and held his hand out to Cecil, who took it with his good hand. They walked down their short hallway to their bedroom and fell unceremoniously into bed, not bothering to change out of their clothes.

Once they settled into the soft blankets, facing each other, Cecil opened his eyes to look at his boyfriend.

"Carlos? Can I ask you something?" Cecil asked quietly.

And Carlos answered back equally quiet, "Of course."

"Why didn't you call me tonight? What happened so you could get back into Night Vale?"

Carlos opened his eyes from their half-lidded stance and sighed. "I'm sorry that it took so long and that I didn't call. But I found a door today. The masked army and I had been searching day and night for the last few days, but hadn't come up with anything. And when we found one, I was overjoyed. They held it open for me in case it was to yet another Desert Otherworld, or maybe a Tundra Otherworld. I wouldn't do well in the cold."

Cecil let out a small laugh and Carlos smiled at him, continuing his story. "But the door wasn't to anywhere cold. In fact, it was still quite warm, like a desert. And once I had gone through, I found out that it was Desert Bluffs. I knew how to get from there back to Night Vale and I figured that it may be my last chance for at least a while. So I said goodbye to the masked army and spent all day finding my way home."

At the end of his story, Cecil smiled wide and Carlos placed his hand on Cecil's cheek. "I would've called, but it looks like your battery actually does run down after over a year in a Desert Otherworld and my phone died."

Cecil hugged Carlos again, curling up against his chest, and mumbled, "That's okay."

Carlos smiled and kissed the top of Cecil's head, pulling him closer as they both drifted off to sleep.

Your OTP is in a long-distance relationship. One night your OTP is having a Skype call and Muse A gets very upset over the fact that they can't physically be there with Muse B. The next few days, Muse B plans a secret trip to wherever Muse A is. The rest is up to you.