Chapter Text

Cecil--

“Listeners, I am so excited to announce a new student. Guess what he’s called, and it is a he, not an it, like last time- but anyway, his name is Carlos.” Cecil purred into the microphone of the schools office; he had long stopped reading off of cue cards and while some may say things like he ‘rambles’ or doesn’t always ‘get to the point’ he feels that he’s a important part of the Night Vale community; well at least the high school one.

“Now Night Vale High students, please make him feel welcomed, and warmed- as per new students regulation, everyone is invited to offer him hugs and whispers as he walks by you in the hall.” He reminded his peers; they needed it, regulatory welcomes were covered in the summer reading program but that isn’t something we talk about. Not at all.

Carlos-- 

The schools halls were ordinary. Everything was utterly ordinary- if all you did was look down at the standard laminate floors, a staple of public education that apparently even Night Vale couldn’t escape. Nothing was normal however if you looked at the people. Some appeared in different forms, ones that he couldn’t even grasp if he tried, if he studied and experimented. Some people, as he had found they still liked to be called despite the fact that they looked like the furthest thing from, did appear to be in a form in which he could see and understand to a degree. Perhaps these people were most scary.

It took him weeks to recover from the shock of what he arrived to. Night Vale had not been what he expected when the flyer from his old school science club promised him a senior year lab internship in the most interesting of places. Strex-Corp, a new and upcoming science powerhouse where he was from had paid for everything when he expressed interest, all he had to do was “be productive”. They said that with a smile.

Big Rico’s Pizza, aka “The only [but best!] pizza in town” was his new home, well at least the small loft centered above it was. It was lonely mostly, but there was plenty of space for a makeshift lab.

“Open your heart to us, open it and we will be one. Trust us, we’ve watched the medical shows” a blonde girl whispered into his ear, a hand encompassing the back of his neck as she pressed her body against him. She let go with a smile in her eye, and mouthed “welcome”.

The shiver that went down his spine was unpleasant but expected; in the weeks after he first arrived, before school started, he had gotten use to this welcome. A conundrum of a riddle wrapped in an enigma; it took him all of six days to stop going outside.

The shiver was discomforting, adding to the strain of the backpack, the cool sweat of anxiety and heated glances of students, all mouthing “welcome”. The urge to run was prevalent, an instinct surpassing all the rest, yet he stayed; remembering the letter of “encouragement” that his most gracious hosts provided him --

School is productive. Productive is happiness. We value your happiness. We value productivity. Smile, we are watching.

Happily,                                                                                                                                            Strex-Corp

The “Encouragement” left alongside a backpack, pinned with a NRA button and a school schedule had sealed the deal- school was a must, unavoidable. Yet, he was everything and anything but excited for what was surely to come.

The blonde girl was long gone by the time he had made it down the hallway, he had arrived at Old Woman Josie’s theology class. It was taught by a woman who didn’t look old at all yet that is what was both on the schedule and written backwards on the whiteboard.

He had gotten very comfortable in both writing and reading backwards in his time in Night Vale. What could he say, he was adaptable; Carlos the Adaptable Scientist...

Cecil--

“Student body of Night Vale High, I regret to inform you that I’ve not met the elusive Carlos yet, but I have heard that he has perfect hair. I am very excited to judge this for myself. But enough about this, I guess, Dana is waving me on from outside my booth, I can tell she is mouthing things like ‘school community calendar, Cecil!” and “get on with it” ... surely Carlos, if you are listening, this behavior is not because Dana doesn’t like you. She is simply concerned with reporting to management.” He loved his fifteen minutes of air time between first and second period on tuesdays; it was in this time slot that he got to announce community calendar for the school. It was a vital part of the week, and the best experience if he one day hoped to work at Night Vale Community Radio. He could only hope.

“Well yes, uh, getting on with it. There is not much this week, however I regretfully inform you that Street Cleaning Day is upon us. Licrosday; that being the day after saturday but before... well... this month its thursday... will be the dreaded date. Principal Pamela Winchell, want us to remember to stay off the streets; it would be unfortunate to lose anymore of the student body- soon we will only be limbs.” The red blinking light flicked off as his mic became dead to the school, officially off air.

“I get to meet Carlos!” he chanted to Dana. “

That you do Cecil, that you do.” Dana stated, amused at how redundant Cecil was being about the meeting of Carlos; it was adorable and inevitable.

Chapter Text

Carlos--

The History and Future of Flying Dinosaurs class was a popular one; a class filled to the brim. And although a class on flying prehistoric creatures perhaps wasn’t his idea of a typical senior education, it was a class that could be called a science derived one; as long as there was evidence. He like both science and evidence.

 The class was taught by Joel Eisenberg, Night Vales only expert on flying dinosaurs. Joel, or rather, Mr. Eisenberg,  had a reputation for being rather eccentric, especially in regards to his students. He had been warned of this; yet with the strange things he had witnessed, not much was surprising, regardless of how disturbing.

 “Vansten, Marcus?” Mr. Eisenberg bellowed out; reducing the chatter about the room to a creeping murmur. Attendance, as announced, was taken in alphabetical order of students favorite color- he couldn’t quite be sure, as this was his first day at Night Vale High, if favorite color was always the criteria for attendance order. He hypothesized however, based on how his first period had went, that attendance was ordered completely spontaneously. Perhaps this could be his first investigation.

“Faceless Old Woman” Mr. Eisenberg called again; staring dead into a girl who sat in the back corner of the room. She was neither old nor really faceless- granted her long hair overtook where her face should be, and her hat slouched miserably low onto her head, and the longer he seemed to look at her the more the cloudy mysterious fog seemed to obscure her head.

“I have a name you know!” The Faceless Old Woman said indifferently. Her tone suggesting that she was highly disturbed by the ignorance circulating the room.

“Anyway... McDaniels, Hiram?” Was called off the attendance sheet. A, well, a dragon cleared its throat, drawing eyes to him, and his five different colored heads.

It is Night Vale, this can happen. Dragons go to school. He felt that he had read a The Adventures of the Bailey School Kids book that went like this... “Dragons Don’t Cook Pizza”. But of course not; dragons don't cook pizza, Big Rico cooks pizza, dragons just go to school.

“Ah, Hiram! so excited to work with you- hoping you’ll like my class. I think it will be very informative to your... heritage.” Mr. Eisenberg wasted no time mooning over the student; smiling as he looked from the student to his poster of a pterodactyl.

“I am a dragon. A five headed dragon. Not a  dinosaur!” Hiram’s blue head spouted.

“Yes but dinosaurs are cool... I’ve always wanted to be a dinosaur” The green head chimed in.

“Mother would be ashamed if she heard you talking like that! We are not a dinosaur.” The yellow head glared.

“мы все динозавры!” The red head added in what sounded vaguely like Russian.

“Wonderful! Well thats enough attendance for today right. I think you're all here. Sure.” Mr. Eisenberg said, grabbing a textbook bound in a scaly material. “Dinosaurs. Yes, they are important; they have left the earth but they will return. They will return with new friends, but we have to be here to be their new friends-- “ Mr. Eisenberg paced as he talked.  

“You forgot about Carlos!” A boy called out. He was the voice that matched the melodic waves of information that ebbed out of the PA system between periods and before school. He had gathered that this boy’s name was Cecil.

“Very well, he is no dinosaur but he is from a place called Phoenix, so I guess that exotic enough...” the teacher replied looking peeved, yet intrigued.

“Carlos-- well there is no last name here. Introduce yourself to the class” He looked expectantly at Carlos. “Come on now, stand up...”

Carlos walked to the front of the class, carefully avoiding the extra limbs sticking into the threshhold of the aisle.

“Hi, Im Carlos. Well yeah-- um, Im here for science mostly so I’ll be writing stuff down and what not.” He said, staring into the abyss of  classroom, eyes and eyes of “people” staring into him.

“...Neat” Cecil cried out from his seat. “I mean interesting.”

Cecil--

“Dana-- I said ‘neat’... how could I say neat?!?” he rushed up to Dana in the hall; grasping her by the shoulders. “Dana! what do I do?”

“What do you mean Cecil?”She laughed. “Theres nothing wrong with neat”

“Ugh! Dana, neat! and he has the perfect hair and he’s just so, he’s Carlos the scientist!” Cecil said in a high pitched tone, melting into Dana space.

"Yes Cecil I know” she said, brushing the top of his head, “speaking of scientists, we have science next.”

"I am really into science these days” he grinned, pulling his lanky form into less of a slumped blob against Dana.

Chapter Text

Cecil--

Three Weeks before Carlos' Arrival

This day was particularly hot; standing in the center of his room Cecil stared at the new appearance on his chest. Khoshekh hovered in the bathroom connected to his bedroom, staring at him through the open door; Khoshekh took to the habit of teleporting to wherever he was via closest sink, Cecil couldn’t particularly remember a time when the cat hadn’t been with him, yet remembered the day he had first appeared with great fondness.

He remembered that day just as he remembered when his first tattoo arrived, a stylized eye positioned on his forehead; invading his skin with shades of purple ink. The tattoos only continued from there, creeping across his shoulders, over the skin of his neck and occasionally down his back to spread down his arms. Never on his chest though- until now; a grey outline of an anatomically correct heart laid over where he knew his own to be, yet it looked nothing like his own heart. The stationary element of this marking confused him as well, it was new yet made no restless movement as some of the others had. The eye, his first is what he calls a permanent, it shifts or occasionally shuts itself to the world but never disappears to him. While others, usually the ones that ebbed from his shoulders to his arms faded and changed over time, symbolic of events coming and going in the town. This heart was different; this burned with an emotion he couldn’t lay a finger on.

One Day before Carlos’ Arrival

Cecil walked down the road; it was raining oddly enough, yet despite the weather nobody seemed to be carrying an umbrella or really caring at all. It was a bit after dark and the signs down the main strip of Night Vale were lit with enchanting lights, the brightest coming from farther down the road and higher up in the sky, the Arby’s sign.

Cecil shouldn’t be walking around after dark tonight,  not that time was really something that was considered but he had promised his mother he would watch the kitchen appliances while she visited the post office. Which was considerably important since tonight was going to be the first  night the post office was open since the whole sounds of soul being destroyed by black magic emanating from the building and the appearance of the message “MORE TO COME. AND SOON” in blood on the walls. Yet he couldn’t bare to sit at home staring listlessly into the chasm of kitchen appliances as they shook and stirred under what could only be some conspiracy of the Sheriffs  Secret Police or the Vague yet Menacing Government Agency; he was too restless.

The walking helped his heart though- not his real heart but the one that had appeared outlined in grey over his own. It was filling in, darkening, not in an animated sort of way as other tattoos had morphed and changed before, but in such a way that he felt a drag of a needle across his skin and a seer of heat as the heart was shaded in. Everyday, faster and faster the heart filled in, becoming more detailed. It didn’t move from its place,  never changing but only being added to. He could feel the invisible blood it pumped yet refused to show; thats how he knew it was alive. The later it got the faster the heartbeat, the more excited and restless he became; Cecil couldn’t put finger on what cause this mysterious stirring yet he knew it was soon coming to an end, that whatever the heart was waiting for would soon be here.

Chapter Text

Cecil--

"Professor Old Woman Josie would like to remind all theology students that use of a bloodstone is a mandatory element for tonight assignments. No exceptions will be allowed or considered. They are watching" Cecil droned into the microphone- another assignment that his fellow peers would scoff at and blame him for. But they would do it- we are being watched after all.

"Safe night, Night Vale, safe night" he wishes them a parting; flipping off the microphone.

School was out.

"Cecil!" Marcus Vansten, Night Vale’s resident billionaire popped his head into the school radio room. “I heard Carlos doesn’t have a bloodstone... maybe you could lend him one.” Marcus winked- nobody was oblivious to Cecil’ feelings about Carlos.  

They had all seen the tattoo; they had seen the way Cecil had ran around manically in the weeks before Carlos’ arrival trying to figure out what it meant only to feel his actual heart skip a beat when he saw Carlos for the first time in his “The History and Future of Flying Dinosaurs” class. He stared at Carlos when the boy had walked in the classroom and from the way he walked to the lay of his perfect hair and the quirk of his voice as he stumbled over apologies made to the people he tripped over getting to his seat, Cecil knew that the heart that laid bare across his chest was a carbon copy of Carlos’.

So Marcus took advantage of this knowledge; the billionaire was indifferent to just about everything but was a deviant when it came to poking and prodding at others relationships. They speculated that Marcus was simply bored.

Marcus opened his mouth to speak; a movement that in the moment went unnoticed as Cecil dashed out the school, backpack slithering behind him.

Carlos--

It was raining; the weather in Night Vale played out very much like a song did. There would be sporadic versus of unpredictable weather, clouds clustering, thunder thrashing, lighting illuminating, all to be met with the sweet chorus of redundant drought, dry and bitter. On the symphonies would play-- but today he was tied up in a high pitched storm.

He stood at the corner, a lone patch of dark blue asphalt where a rusty bus stop sign stood.  He assumed this was how he was going to get home, as in the morning an unmarked bus had been waiting for him to get on. He didn’t actually know how to get from Night Vale High to Big Ricos.

“Carlos!” A voice sounded from behind him; Cecil. “Carlos-- wait! Why are you waiting for the bus in the rain? This bus hasn’t come since well... since Danielle Duboise was Mayor.” Cecil had stared at him- or into him, with the same look that you would give a small puppy that had done something wrong but well cute.

Did Cecil think that he was helpless?  

“Carlos?” Cecil questioned when what Carlos assumed looked like he was lost in thought.

“Yes! Oh, sorry! Cecil, yes, what can I help you with?” He responded, flustered; it came mostly from Cecil’s intense gaze and the way that Cecil stood, tall and leaning. The way that Cecil said his name on the radio.

“So I was thinking” Cecil said exaggerating every syllable; “that... like... we could- well you could; maybe come over if... you know.. you needed some bloodstones. Uh... well you know we need them for the class. Well-- yeah... I could maybe lend them to you and sooo yeah; like for class... me and you... homework. For school...” Carlos could feel the bout of confidence that Cecil had fade out as he stumbled through this invitation.

“Oh! I don’t actually know what these bloodstones are though. We don't use them in the--” Carlos cut off abruptly, he wanted to say ‘the real world’ yet that seemed rude. It was just that Night Vale seemed like such a fantasy land. Carlos continued, “We didn't use them at my last school- in Phoenix”

“I could teach you!” Cecil spewed with much gusto. His skin seemed to flicker as he did, glimpses of purple infiltrating his skin. “I mean for like educational purposes!” The boy tacked on, glancing at the rain pooling on the sidewalk.

“Um, thanks Cecil. I appreciate it?" The end of his sentence trailing off into a question. Accepting Cecil’s offer filled him with anticipation. Perhaps this was all sort of some bizarre Night Vale welcoming ritual, it wouldn’t be surprising; but who was he to reject Cecil. It could be fun... guaranteed to be weird, but maybe fun. And anyway he would get to spend more time with Cecil.

“Neat... perfect!” Cecil responded, grasping Carlos’ forearm, “we can take my car... it’s this way” the boy pulled in the direction of the school parking lot.

The car they approached was rusty and old, but old with meaning, like a character in sorts. Cecil slid into the driver’s seat and from inside snaked a long arm across the seats to pop the door open for him. Carlos fit naturally in the car, unlike Cecil who hunched a little, yet seemed comfortable enough. They drove with the loud growl of the engine after much encouragement from Cecils whispering to the engine. Carlos tried to track the way they were going in an effort to understand the layout of Night Vale.

But honestly, Carlos had no idea where they were going.

Night Vale was a complex maze of tight corners pocketed in vast plains of desert. Cecil’s house, from what he gathered was pressed into the negative space of a small gated community within Night Vale. It was normal looking enough, small houses nestled next to each other with glass planted down in plots that desperately attempted not to be smothered in sand and dirt.

It was white, the panelling, two stories high if you looked at it one way, four if you looked at it another way. The yard was cluttered with boxes that were labeled in sharpie “child’s room”, “toys”, “animal traps”, “anatomically correct deer sculptures”. His skin seemed to sizzle with energy as he neared the property and everything about it felt very... Cecil.

“Did you move recently” He asked, breaking his silence. Sitting in the car he had only listened to Cecil’s nonstop chatter about Night Vale life, studying the way Cecil would blush from time to time and the way his voice would catch in his throat whenever they glanced at each other. Carlos wasn’t particularly good at talking but he was great at observing,

“No not at all. That’s just where those live.” Cecil pointed to the boxes in question, waving them off, “They are very temperamental about being in the right place,” he said with a vaguely confused look on his face.

As they entered the house his anxiety became greater; he didn't know the etiquette of visiting homes in Night Vale and didn’t want to offend Cecil. Perhaps he should have studied the customs of the town a little more before engaging in it. But he just went with his gut; taking shoes off at the front door, allowing Cecil to place his backpack in the closet next to the door.

Well here they are; Cecil’s house. A staircase or what looked like a staircase, away from his bedroom, from the bloodstones, from what could possibly be a new scientific experiment. Yet what made him jump was not the unknown but the feeling of Cecil pressing a hand to his forearm.

“This way” Cecil nodded to the stairs with a smile.

Chapter Text

His room was...normal. There was a bed; and he didn’t know why thats what he looked for first in the room but he did. And there was a desk with a chair all covered in multicolored notes, which upon closer inspection all had to do with “radio techniques”. There were tapes as well, strewn about, labeled “Cecil Gershwin Palmer” followed by various ages. Upon noticing all of this, he couldn't help but notice Cecil as well, looming in the corner, grinding a foot into the carpet with what appeared to be nervousness. The boy appeared to be breathing heavier, as if he was thinking about breathing.

“Cecil... are you...okay?”he asked, Cecil glanced up from the floor and his foot stopped moving.

“Okay? Umm! yes of course!” Cecil said with almost a jump. Color rushed to the boys face once again. His tattoos swirling about on his skin in excitement or perhaps just frenzy.

“Science! Yes let’s.” Cecil added on. He watched Cecil as the boy ran throughout the room, darting from corner to corner gathering various instruments for their supposed “science”,  dumping them in the middle of the floor, right on top of a pinkish red reflective rug.

It was rocks. Cecil arranged them in a bizarre shape on the floor and then just sat there; his hands moving in ways that it hurt to look at. He couldn’t see a single thing, he observed Cecil, the rocks, Cecils erratic arm movements and felt a dull ache sinking into to his head.

“Cecil? What are you doing?” He asked tentatively, barely above a whisper. In response Cecil’s lips moved forming soundless words. Cecil was entranced in the rocks, the air got hotter and the smell of copper filled the air.

His vision swirled; the ache in his head growing stronger. Everything felt wrong, the only sense of anchoring or comfort being found in Cecil, who sat crosslegged, only a few feet away on the floor.

“Carlos!” Three heads of Cecil appeared above him hovering in the air. Cecil’s hands pressed into his shoulders, holding him down.

“What happened” he moaned out groggily, the shape of Cecil reformed back into to one shape as his vision cleared.

“I don’t know... I was doing the ritual and next thing I know you were on the floor.” Cecil cried out, removing  his hands from Carlos’ shoulders, moving them to shield his own face.

“Well... uh that was... wow.” Carlos said, slowing getting up from where Cecil had pressed him into the floor moments ago. “Cecil, why...why are you-? What’s wrong?” He asked, noticing water - tears- trickle down the hands pressed to his face.

Cecil took a moment to; sniffling and willing the tears to recede  “Oh Carlos! Just, I am so sorry! I thought you were- no nevermind.” he took a deep breath, and rubbed at a spot on his chest before continuing, “I just thought I had hurt you... and, it was horrible.”

The way Cecil had said that made Carlos’ heart jump a beat before continuing to hammer away in its cavity, But there was a fear ingrained in Cecil’s voice, one of true terror that Carlos’ couldn’t place the belonging to.

“I’m all right, I promise.” He said, trying to ease the tension that Cecil was visibly holding. “I should be going though. Its late?” Carlos tacked on last minute. He needed time to think.

Home, sweet home. His apartment above Big Ricos was just as he had left it when he had gone to school that morning. Something comforting, as it wouldn’t have surprised him if everything had seemed to rearrange itself in the hours he had been absent; yet everything as very much in place.

He didn’t feel in place though. The way that Cecil had looked at him, fear in his eyes threw him off balance. Like everything else in Night Vale, Cecil was weird, but there was something different about him. In the way that he even seemed to look at Carlos, say his name, hang onto words. The acceptance making his weird just seem like a quirk, rather than a wall keeping them miles apart.

There was a nagging feeling though- that for all that Cecil seemed to like him, he didnt. That this is a harsh illusion created by the “appropriate Night Vale welcome” and everything was about of kindness.

The feeling of confusion about Cecil’s feelings for him mixed with the after effects of passing out, sending to bed with what he could only imagine a hangover felt like.

Chapter Text

Cecil--

Marcus Vansten's House Party

Cecil couldn't fathom what was going on. The heat of Carlos pressed into him; the feeling of his hands in Carlos’ hair  sent his tattoos dancing around his reddening skin. His heart-- both of them-- were pounding away in his chest and the only thing that seemed to keep him grounded was the hand that Carlos had firmly planted on the back of his neck, thumbing at a speckle of star tattoos that had appeared in the months prior. The moments that had lead up to this seemed to be colliding in a hectic flourish of confusion; what had lead up to this, he couldn't even comprehend.

Chapter Text

Cecil--

Carlos had left his house with a trail of urgency behind him, the house seemed to wallow in the other boys absents, feeling the sadness of that filled him. Beautiful Carlos, with his perfect hair and perfect mind couldn’t handle the “oddities” of Night Vale, and with Carlos’ fainting spell he began to realize just how odd Night Vale might be to an outsider.

He texted Dana;

Cecil: dana!!!!!!! we have 2 get carlos in <3 with NV... he might be like g2g :’(

Dana, texted back within the minute, momentarily pausing his internal panicking.

Dana: Don’t be ridiculous, Cecil, everything is going to be fine.

Cecil: nooooooooooo. dana! what if he feels excluded from the NV stuff?

Dana: Cecil, you do know that its like 2am.

Cecil: shhhh... no! Carlos > sleep. Danaaaaa tell me what 2 do!

Dana: ...

Cecil: pls!

Dana: Why don’t you invite him to Mark Vanstans party? You know on street cleaning day... the party that everyone goes to...

Cecil: hmmm! Omg dana thats a gr8 idea... srly ily!

Dana: No problem... ask him tomorrow at school. Be calm Cecil.

Cecil: When am I not?!

Dana: Good night Cecil.

Cecil: no, srly...am I not cool?! DANA!

Cecil: :(

Cecil: DANNNNNNNNA?!?!?!?!?!?!

Cecil: ....

Cecil: night.

Be calm. Why would she even then say that... I mean, I’m cool. I'm calm... collected even. I have a good radio voice, that means I have to be calm... and smooth. Oh Dana, what a silly assistant she is.

Carlos--

The hallway was eerily empty the next day; he knew that Street Cleaning Day was tomorrow and many Night Vale residents took it upon themselves to keep their kids home... really making use of the family time. Or something like that. He couldn't think about it to hard.

“Carlos!” he heard a voice cry- well he knew the voice was Cecil, how could he not when it was ingrained in his memory so clearly.

“Cecil” he greeted with a smile as he turned toward the voice.

“I’m so glad you’re here!” Cecil made a move toward him with extended arms like he wanted to hug him, but instead made a sort of flailing motion of something that could be construed as excitement.

“Oh? Because of Street Cleaning Day? I would think that it would be more likely for you not to be here.... Cause that's a Night Vale thing right? ditching on the day before Street Cleaning Day.” he stammered.

“Yeah... kinda” Cecil blushed, “Um, I was going to but I wanted to see you.... to ask you is you wanted to go to a party.”

“A party?” he asked...he didn't think that parties were really a thing here. He had been a few in Phoenix but overall he wouldn't call himself a partier.  

“A party! Marcus Vansten has a party for every Street Cleaning Day... I mean we are suppose to stay inside but they never technically say who’s house we have to be in... So everyone gets together. Its fun. You should come with me- I mean like to the party which I will be at too...and I mean I can take you to the party if you don't know how get there but I mean its not that hard to find his house. Not that I blame you if you can’t.... just whatever you want! It will be-” Cecil was going on a mile a minute.

“I would love to go.” He said, cutting off Cecil's rambling.

Cecil’s smile was wide as he seemed to squeal with delight, “Perfect! I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning, early. Curfew is 10am”

“See you tomorrow Cecil.”

Chapter Text

Carlos—

9:02am

He could see Cecil’s car as it rounded the corner to Big Rico’. The sky blue VW bug was clanking along the road, threatening to collapse at every point. From the last time he had ridden in it, the markings along its sides had grown. Who Cecil let draw on his car in the harsh strokes of paint and smudges of permanent marker, he didn't know.

“Carlos!” Cecil cried, obviously seeing him watching from his apartment window. “Carlos, hurry, I was running late! We need to get out of here before-” Cecil cut out dramatically, and mouthed the words ‘Street Cleaning Day’.

He grabbed his notebook- for observations- and shoved it in a small messenger bag, that was full of other odds and ends, a measuring tape, beakers, goggles, just the basics for any ‘just in case' moments.

In the body of the car Cecil pulled away from the sidewalk in a sudden, jerky motion. Cecil was not the best driver to say the least. Cecil was rocking out as he drove down the road, luckily there was a huge lack of cars due to the approaching Street Cleaning Day curfew.

He caught himself staring a little too long at Cecil. His tattoos were spiraling out of control, crawling on his skin moving in and out of visibility from under Cecil’s light purple button down that was dusted with small white polka dots. There was one in particular that ebbed up, it looked like veins that were slowly darkening. He caught his hand as he raised it subconsciously to touch a tattoo of a piece of paper slowly dripping with blood that was on Cecil’ neck.

“You can touch me.” Cecil’s voice cut through the air. The boy didn't turn to look at Carlos but it was so apparent that Cecil was aware of him that it was painful.

“Really?” Carlos asked, he has meant to brush it off but curiosity and a mild obsession with Cecil got the better of him.

“Of course.” Cecil took hand off the wheel and still without looking at Carlos, took his hand and placed it on his own neck. Cecil's skin was warm and he could feel the shallow pulse of the boys heartbeat beneath the skin of his neck. The vein tattoo the had been slowly creeping up Cecil’s neck shot up and wrapped over Cecil's shoulder, disappearing back under the shirt. He was still thumbing over the tattoo half unaware, intent on  having a staring contest with one of the eyes that decorated a spot under Cecil’s ear when the car swerved.

Carlos removed his hand from Cecil to grip the dashboard, and Cecil corrected his driving in the lane.

“I should focus on driving.” Cecil said in a squeaky voice.

10:07am

They pulled up to the house later in one piece; the yard was strewn with various cars and bicycles. There were notes attached to each card that read “This car cannot be seen, therefore it needs no parking space” and were signed by the Night Vale City Council.

“So, Cecil, what kind of party is this?” He asked, tentatively.

“What do you mean?” Cecil’s voice was stained with amusement, his eyes and lips mirroring the tone.

“Just what can I expect to observe?” His nerves were alive, he hated not knowing what kind of situation he was walking into, yet was excited by the prospect of observing something as mundane as a party in Night Vale.

“Just a normal high school party, you know just fun.” Cecil looked thoughtfully to himself, “I think we are going to play never have I ever... someone usually suggests that.”

“That's... so... not Night Vale.” Carlos replied; he swore that he thought Cecil would say a normal high school party here involved blood stones.

“Hey! Night Vale isn't weird-” Cecil said elbowing into Carlos’ side.

“I didn't say weird, I just thought you were going to say there would be tentacles or something.” Carlos said, and Cecil laughed in response.

Then Cecil  turned and looked with all mock seriousness, “Oh, I didn't say there wouldn't be any of those.” Cecil continued laughing and waved his arms in Carlos’ direction.

“Come on, into the house we go” Cecil said after their laughing had died down.

10:45am

They had been in the house just milling around and talking before Cecil found what he seemed to be absent minded seeking out. It was a girl who wore tight jeans and a plain black shirt; she faced a dark corner of the room appearing to talk to someone obscured there.

“Dana!” Cecil dragged him to the girl who he had often seen Cecil with. “This is Carlos- as you know! ...And Oh! Carlos, this is Dana, she is amazing and helps me with the announcements at school.”

“Hello Dana” he extended his hand to her.

“Carlos” She replied with a smile, “This is Little Rico”. A boy stepped out of the shadows, his figure resembled his father’, who Carlos had only met once before on the occasion of getting his keys for his apartment. The boy was hunched in stature and by no means ‘little’.

“Oh, hello… Rico…” He stammered, unsure if he should call a boy, who seemed more man than anyone in the room, ‘Little’.

“Little Rico” was stated in response, Little Rico carried a note of equal exasperation and annoyance at his attempt to be politically correct.

He was about to stutter out an apology when Cecil grabbed him by the elbow, and in a loud whisper said, “Why don’t we go find Marky, it is his party after all.”

“Oh, sure…” He let himself be guided by Cecil.

“Bye Dana!” Cecil called over his shoulder as he steered Carlos out of the room.

“Yes! By Dana! Rico- Little Rico!” He parroted feeling flustered after such a bizarre encounter.

12:13pm

They walked through the house for ages, room after room. Some contained nothing at all, some where shaped with odd angular walls. Some were completely normal, decked out with crown molding and dusty drapes. Most of all there were a lot of fireplaces, each one sporting a mantle from a different era of being. It took them about ten living rooms to finally find the sitting room where Marcus Vansten lounged... naked. Carlos had seen him a few times before in his classes, but not really like this... not naked.

Marcus was surrounded by fellow students of Night Vale High who were not naked but didn’t seem to acknowledge that Marcus was... naked.

“Marky!” Cecil said exaggerating every syllable while, wading through the crowd, pulling Carlos with him.

“Cecil, don’t call me that.” Marcus said with a roll of his eyes.

“Whatev’s.” Cecil said in a mocking valley girl voice. Carlos wasn’t sure if Cecil was mocking Marcus with a valley girl voice or if he was mocking Marcus and the valley girl voice was just a thing that happened.

“Well, anyway, you made it,” While Marcus Vansten’s words seemed like they would have normally conveyed excitement, his tone suggested indifference.

“Of course, and I brought Carlos.” Cecil’s face lit up as Carlos’ blushed furiously.

“Fabulous” Marcus replied dryly although his face held some semblance of a smile. “The bloodstone’ almost ready.”

Bloodstones. Last time he fraternized with a bloodstone nothing ended well. He fainted; Cecil cried and was a wreck when he came to.

“Cecil, can I talk to you?” He said a step below his normal speaking voice, slow to alert any of the others that there may be a problem.

“Of, yes of course!” Cecil jumped in place, practically shoved him into a different room.

12:35pm

They found themselves retreating back to the great room where Marcus had first brought up the bloodstone.

Cecil had explained the semantics of how the bloodstone was going to work this time- he hypothesized that it wouldn't have the same effect as it did last time.

Apparently what was supposed to happen was an intoxicating feeling of weightlessness and inhibition.

When Carlos had questioned under his breath why Night Valians couldn't just drink alcohol like normal teenagers, Cecil's replied “Oh there’s beer in the kitchen… and probably some other random stuff that people found”.

Of course there was.

2:01pm

After the mingling ceased the room buzzed with anticipation. In the center of the room there was the familiar image of a bloodstone, large and looming. Despite Cecil’s previous reassurance he felt the tingle in his forehead . his whole body ached as it felt like his blood started flowing in the opposite direction. Going against his nature to stare with insatiable curiosity he looked away from the unnatural view. he was not meant to see it.

He did see each student walk to the center and with a gasp, contribute to the blood circle. He didn't understand these rituals.

“Are you ready?” Cecil's voice voice pulled him back to reality as the taller boy made his way back from the center of the room, grabbing onto Carlos’ plaid sleeve.

“I don’t know” He stated truthfully. “I mean I want to, I just don’t know if I can  prepare for anything like this. I hypothesize everything will be fine. I hope.”

He didn’t really get time to think after that. The room filled with a hazy smoke. Everyone titled their head up and inhaled. He did the same and found himself coughing out of a knee-jerk reaction rather than necessity. It was safe to say that everyone turned to stare at him in amusement.

“You’re adorable.” Cecil said candidly, reaching up and touching his face.

His head was foggy. Whatever he was on hit hard and fast. Cecil’s form was multiplying. Everything was multiplied. The room spun, the brick pattern of the wall blending into the cream carpet.  

Chapter Text

Carlos--

4:11pm

Cecil was looking at him, the boys irises seemed to grow in the dark room. He couldn’t place where he was in the room but wasn’t particularly surprised as Marcus Vansten has seemed to have an infinite amount of rooms that Carlos would probably never see. His eyes were conflicted between string at the beautiful eyes of Cecil, who for despite all his concern wasn’t saying anything, in place running a hand over Carlos’ hair, and looking at what appeared to be an entire galaxy painted into the ceiling above. Bother were captivating but Cecil won over when he spoke,

“Carlos, you’re awake” Cecil was tentative as he stated this in a voice laced with concern and fear.

“Yes. I believe so. I passed out again didn’t I?” Carlos said back, unsure of what exactly happened, but clearly remembering the presence of a bloodstone being involved.

“Oh Carlos! I am so sorry, I mean... I can’t believe that that happened. I said it wouldn’t but I did and oh my gosh... Im so stupid. And you’ll probably never want to be around me ever again. I just...   Carlos! I am so sorry I never meant for you to get hurt like this.” Cecil ranted, still staring into his face as he held Carlos’ head in his lap where he was sitting on the floor.

Carlos righted himself from Cecil’s lap, crossing his legs on the floor with a distinct memory of deja vu flooding his mind.

“Cecil, I’m fine, I promise. I’m sorry-”

Cecil all of a sudden got up, he started backing up towards the door of the room.

“Cecil, what’s going on?” Carlos inquired, confused as to Cecil sudden change in character.

“I should go... I don’t need to be around you...nothing is okay right now.” Carlos heard Cecil mutter, right before the boy disappeared from the room, leaving Carlos all alone under the stars.

5:34pm

Carlos spent time unknown to him writing under the stars in the brown steno notebook that he had fished out of his messenger bag. He was mildly afraid of venturing out of this room- where would that door lead? Would there be more smoke that would engulf his consciousness? His notebook seemed to help. He recorded everything, finding the patterns, noting down observations and everything became much clearer.

Cecil. He had to find Cecil now that everything was clear. He hoped that he could relieve some of the guilt that Cecil so obviously felt, particularly angry at himself for not ensuring Cecil sooner that he was fine- is it really a party until someone ends up passed out?  

To find Cecil he would have to leave the room, face the smoke; and he would.

The door out of the room was black, made out of marble, with no distinct doorknob. It loomed on the wall and upon closer inspection Carlos could see the etchings carved into it, smooth dips into the depths of the material. Without thinking he pressed his hand into it, the door vibrated, his whole body vibrated and then he was... gone.

6:00pm

Carlos was in a sunlit room. The curtain were blown wide open, nothing appeared much out of ordinary on the street as he would imagine since Street Cleaning Day was described in such enormous terrors it was hard to wrap his brain around. The room was so sunny that he could particles of air floating in the air, a spectrum of colors appearing where the shouldn’t. he felt funny from what appeared to be a sort of short distance teleportation, he had no idea why he wasn’t entirely freaked out but the events that had already occurred previously were much more ingrained in his mind.

This room didn’t have a door, but an archway with an obscuring mist that hover slightly outside of it. Through the fog he couldn't see much but he heard the loud bass of the music slowly ebbing across the floor, the chatter of what he presumed were students and over it all, the very loud singing of a high pitched voice.

He prepared himself. Nothing about this could hurt him, there were a dozen plus people out there and they, while some were  bizarre, most seemed to be human. So how could this hurt him or affect him anymore then it affected them.

Through the door he went.

7:15pm

Lights pulsated, the floor vibrated with the bass and the whole room spun in a technicolor fit of passion. It was smoky inside this room of the billionaire’s house- something that because he seemed to be expecting, that he seemed to accept wasn’t infuriating his mind in an overpowering kind of way. He could feel his emotions running rampage. The substance settled into his bloodstream- and then he got it, the bloodstone, it was getting him buzzed. He couldn’t control his laughter as he realized how hilarious this whole situation had been; he was essentially a lightweight in the world of bloodstones.

The party, which mind you had kicked off at nine am, was still in full spin as the sun set. Body morphed together in the strobes of light. He couldn’t make much of anyone out, but he could see the still naked body of Marcus Vasten dancing under a chandelier. It was safe to say that he went the opposite direction than that. 

“Excuse me?” He said, tapping a girl with red hair. She was standing sort of just oscillating her hips in rhythm with another girl.

“Oh hi!” The girl with the red hair relied.

“Have you seen... um... Cecil anyway. I think I lost him.” Carlos said.

“Oh my god! Youre Carlos!” The girl said in reply. “Maureen look! It’s Carlos.”

“Hi Carlos, Im Maureen, this is Stacy. We work with Cecil doing the school radio, you know with Dana. We have heard so much about you!” The other girl yelled over the music and the high pitched voice singing top tens songs above all else.  

“ Oh hi... yes. Nice to meet you. I’m looking for Cecil, have you seen him at all.” Carlos was in a sensory overload. His mind fixated solely on Cecil.

“I dont think we have actually. Umm... yeah, I don't really know. Maybe Fey will know.” Stacy chimed back in, she had been plucking at the label of the bottle in her hand, but now was pointing to the girl who was belting out over the music. The girl, Fey, was participating in a very long and loud round of karaoke, singing a squeaky, high pitched version of Katy Perry’s Roar.

Fey did look quite a bit like Cecil, her skin tone took on a more metallic and shiny quality, but their eyes were both eerily similar. He said goodbye to Maureen and Stacy who smiled and loudly whispered behind him- their conversation sounding rather excited and knowing.

He waded through the crowd in the direction of Fey; as he moved inward the smoke that hung in the air thickened,, lurking and creeping into the lungs of the dancers.

“Excuse me,” Carlos shouted over the roar of music, slowly drawing the attention of Fey.

“CARLOS!” Fey screamed upon seeing him. She knew exactly who he was; he was her brother’s obsession after all.

“Yes... that is me. How did you know?” Carlos asked quizzically; on some level he knew it wasn’t that hard to recognize the new kid in town yet it irked him to no end how much of an apparent sore thumb he was.

“Oh you know... Cecil and all. The tattoo, I mean you're a big-” Fey slapped a hand over her mouth with a look of concern.

She took a deep breath before smiling and saying, “He should be in....” Fey looked around the room before pointing at a giant wooden door that was in the far corner, “in there... he like that room.”

“Okay... thanks Fey.” Carlos was flustered to say the least; confused as to what Fey had insinuated confused as to what that meant about how he felt about Cecil. Everything was strange and confusing; everything was smokey.

8:18pm

He had gone through the door and the room appeared to be empty until a voice sounded.

“Carlos?” He heard cecils voice from behind him. The boy seemed to sway, it was against the beat of the music, so Carlos guessed that his movement was not so much a muted sense of dancing but an acute intoxication or inebriation from the bloodstone smoke.

“Cecil! I have been looking for you. Fey said you liked it here but when I came in it was empty so I was pretty sure I had just lost you.” Carlos said.

“Oh I just went to refill.” Cecil made a gesture to the can in his hand, “Do you want some?” he extended his hand to Carlos.

“Umm.. Sure.” Carlos said taking the beer from Cecil's hand.

“Why were you looking for me? I mean I almost killed you with all the smoke... which bring me to my next question how are you ok-” Cecil rambled frantically, the more he talked the higher his voice got and the more anxious he sounded.

Carlos cut him off, “Cecil, you didn’t almost kill me. I’m looking for you- well looked for you? Whatever, anyways, I found you because I like spending time with you, like a lot and then you were gone.” He sort of rambled himself, his tongue felt looser than normally, he could feel his guard slipping from the effects of the smoke which no longer gave him headaches but settled inside of him like a cloudy haze.

“Oh! and I observed, or am observing that the smoke isn’t harmful to me.... I just was anxious about the weird Night Vale element of it. I was having panic attacks but now I’m sort of... adjusted.” Carlos continued on; at this point he could feel his body rocking much like Cecil’s was.

“Thats good? That your better! I just feel so bad.” Cecil seemed to experience a multitude of emotions at once. “and I like hanging out with you too, a lot. Like really...”

“So it’s not a Night Vale welcoming thing. Cause I don’t want you to feel obligated to hang out with me. I know I’m really strange to you probably and... I don’t know. Words seem to be failing me, but I’m going to blame it on the bloodstone.” Carlos stated in an embarrassed tone of voice.

“Same” Cecil smiled at him. He looked like he wanted to say something but the beeping of his wristwatch stopped him. “Oh, it looks like curfew is over... do you want to go watch the stars with me? I mean we can go outside now.”

Carlos looked down at his own watch, it was just over eight thirty at night, time had seemed to more in a way that the day felt like both one single day that lasted an eternity and a million days played in fast forward. “Of course- yes.”

Cecil opened a door that he had not known had led out to a balcony raised four stories off the ground. It was pitch black outside, the only lights being the thousand glinting stars which could be seen in every direction and the faint glow of the Arby’s sign, miles and miles away.

"Cecil-” Carlos said; the stars were beautiful but he couldn’t focus on them. He wanted to know what everything with them was. Why was everyone connecting him to Cecil, why did he feel so connected to the boy who he hadn’t known for a length of time he would ever normally trust someone in.

“Carlos? Is everything okay?” Cecil seemed confused and slightly amused at his flustered behavior.

“Why do I trust you? I mean logically it makes no sense whatsoever... There is nothing that backs up how I feel. That weird... really weird. I know why I like you... youre like so nice or ‘neat’ as you would say and cute and so kind... and then everyone goes on this preconceived notion that were attached at the hip. Everyone knew who I was! Because of you... and usually I think I would hate that but I didn’t mind it because it was you and I was so focused on finding you because you left and.... I don’t even know what I am saying anymore but wow. Nothing makes sense... but I can’t find it in me to care. What’s going on Cecil? What is going on?” Carlos had started erratically pacing on the balcony. He didn’t even make eye contact with Cecil as he spoke but rather let words flow out of his like a balloon releasing air. If he was looking at Cecil he would have noticed the bright shade of red Cecil had turned, and the smile that stained his previously grim face.

“You like me.” Cecil stated, dumbfounded and giddy.

Cecil stepped into Carlos’ space, and leaned in, smiling at the him. This snapped Carlos back into reality. Cecil was here, in front of him- inched away from his face and so he took a deep breath, and closed the distance. They were stoic at first, neither moving until Cecil reached up and tangled his hands into Carlos’ perfect hair. Carlos responded by pressing his hands to the back of Cecil’s neck, cradling his head and thumbing at the tattoos he had noticed there earlier.  

Carlos’ brain was overflowing, a flood of statistical, logical and observational data fought against the urge to let everything go. Carlos, in that moment gave up thinking, and let Cecil win. The kiss consumed him entirely.

They pulled away; both with identical smiles filled stupid joy and both started laughing. They could barely see each other on the dark balcony but they could hear each other's laughter- Carlos’ throaty laugh mingling with the peals of Cecil's lighter one.

“Cecil?” Carlos said through his laughter.

“Yes Carlos?” Cecil grabbed Carlos’ hand and intertwined their fingers.

“Whats with the tattoos?” Carlos said, extending a hand to touch where he could see the tattoo of a pulmonary trunk was inching up the side of his neck in the dim lighting. “I mean Fey said something about the tattoo and then acted really strange...”

“Can I tell you another day?” Cecil asked.

“Of course.” Carlos replied.

“Thank you.” Cecil said, pulling Carlos back into kiss him.

Chapter Text

Cecil--

He had dropped Carlos off that night, letting the boy out of his car in front of Big Rico's. They didn’t kiss again on account of Fey looking eagerly at them from the back seat..   But Carlos had smiled at him before ducking out of the car disappearing into the night before reappearing under the dim cast of light by the back entrance of the pizzeria. He had drove off only after Carlos had shut the door behind him, they had survived street cleaning day and it probably had been the best one yet.

“Is he your boyfriend?! Cecil!! That would be so cute! Oh my gosh, he should be your boyfriend, you should make him your boyfriend!” Fey squealed, her excitement was still quite high despite the energy she was exerting to climb from the back seat over the middle console and into shotgun.

“I-- I don’t know. He likes me. I think--” Cecil thought back to the kiss, “No. He likes me totally, I like him too.... so. We will see. Okay?” Fey seemed only slightly satisfied by this answer, but seemed complacent to let it go.

“Is the tattoo doing the thing?” She asked after flicking the radio dial to a top 40s station.

“You mean growing?” He asked, rolling his eyes at his sister. “Yeah its doing ‘the thing’...” He mimicked her lackluster description for the tattoo of Carlos’ heart on his chest. “And! Before you ask, no I haven’t told him and I’m not going to tell him yet, and yes I know you mentioned it so don’t.”

“Okay crabby pants.” Fey sensed the uncertainty in Cecil's voice and backed off a bit. “And thanks for driving me home with you.”

Cecil laughed at that, he could never leave Fey behind. “No problem, plus you're going to help me with math in turn.” He said to her. Numbers had always been Fey’s thing.

“Don’t you have a smarty science-y boyfriend for that now?” Fey laughed as Cecil took one hand off the wheel to jokingly hit her in the shoulder. 

Cecil--

“Students of Night Vale High welcome back from Street Cleaning Day-- hopefully we have all survived. Maybe even thrived in the violent environment, I know I did.” Cecil hummed into the microphone, recalling his encounter with Carlos. Dana glared at him from the booth, twirling her finger  in a motion that suggested he should proceed with the ‘scheduled’ announcements.

“...Our faculty would like me to remind everyone that Apache Tracker’s history midterm has been rescheduled to Tuesday; and that despite the blatant racism of everything about him you are all expected to be present.” Dana rolled her eyes from across the booth again and made another wave for Cecil to move it along.

“...And now lets look at this weeks lunch schedule; today in the cafeteria they will be serving mystery meat, and the first student to guess why its a mystery get to eat something else. The rest of the week is also a mystery. Honestly they haven’t told me much about what’s going on in the kitchen. You learn not to ask questions when you're not a very good salesperson.”  Cecils phone buzzed on table next to him, distracting him for a brief second; his mother texted him.

“That about wraps up announcement todays announcements; however as a part of a new education initiative, the student board and PTA have decided that we should partake in fact sharing, so listen up fellow students... the human soul weighs 21 grams, smells like grilled vegetables, looks like a wrinkled tartan quilt and sounds like bridge traffic. Have a good day students, have a good day!” Cecil flipped the record button powering down the mic. He grabbed his phone and kicked his feet up on the radio table.

Mom: Cecil, your sister told me you have a boyfriend. Invite him to dinner. xoxo your mother.

“Dana!” Cecil shouted, violently waving to get her attention.

“Yes Cecil” She said, sounding resigned to Cecil’s shenanigans as she walked through the studio’s door.

“Look!” Cecil threw his phone at her. She caught the haphazardly flung phone and read the text message before bursting out into hysterical laughter.

“What’s the problem Cecil? Just ask him.” She said though her laughter.

“I know... but its not too soon, I mean what if I scare him?” Cecil said.

“I didn't say ask for his hand in marriage. Just ask him to eat. Its food.”  Dana said amused at Cecil's impending meltdown.

“Okay Ill ask him. But if this goes wrong I blame you. I only got to kiss him once!”

“Yeah, yeah... whatever Cecil.” Dana rolled her eyes and tossed the phone back to him. “Now pacify your mother... text her back so you don't get grounded... again.”

Cecil: I will. g2g 2 class. txt u l8r. ily

mom: Ok! Cecil you should really start typing in normal sentences. This just isn’t dignified anymore.

Cecil: U say that always + carlos isn’t my bf

mom: Whatever Cecil.

Cecil: ????

mom: Just ask him please. I want to meet him.

Cecil: fine.

mom: Have a good day sweet heart. Don’t get too flustered.... think of your radio voice!

“Cecil! We are going to be late to class.” Dana tugged on his shirt collar from where she was now standing, waiting.

“Okay, Okay... I’m coming.” Cecil groaned as he shoveled all his announcement notes in his bag.

Chapter Text

Cecil --

“Listeners of Night Vale High, welcome to Tuesday. The notes are light today but listen up, the school board regrets to inform us that this month of public library cards are being revoked as us of the library has been deemed unsafe by the use of minors.  This policy excludes Marcus Vansten’s private library which I’m sure he will let us use .”  Cecil knew that Marcus would never let anyone into his private library, he like to be naked in there. Not that nudity was something Marcus was shy of, its just that it was the principle of the thing- having a library that is. His phone chimed only to reaffirm that his teasings had been spot on.

Marcus: Nobody is allowed in my library Cecil.

“Ahh, sweet peers of mine, Marcus Vansten just texted me to confirm that he is indeed welcoming to anyone to who wants to visit him at his library. Who said that billionaires aren't nice? “ Cecil smiled into his microphone. Even Dana was laughing on the other side of the booth instead of her usual glare to  tell him to get on with it. “Additionally, speaking of Marcus Vasten we want to also remind everyone who is a senior this year that we have to elect a valedictorian for this years graduation. Marcus Vanstern, the Faceless Old Woman and  Hiram McDaniels are all in the running. Voting starts in December. Remember it is your duty to vote for who sets the tone for the rest of our collective lives. Have a good day Night Vale High.” Cecil flipped the mic off and collected his bags.

Cecil: <3

Marcus: Whatever.

Cecil:  :)

“So did you ask Carlos if he’ll come over for dinner?”  Dana asked, walking up to him and handing him a coffee.

“No, I didn’t see him yesterday.” Cecil replied in cavalier  tone.

“You saw him in science!” Dana said, hitting Cecils shoulder.

“Not really though, I saw him but we didn’t have time to talk.”

“Whatever.” Dana said, starting to walk the opposite way to her next class.

“You’ve been spending too much time with Marcus.” Cecil called after her.

“Talk to him in gym!” She called back over her shoulder.

Carlos--

Carlos hated gym; he had to take off his beloved lab coat to wear the regulated gym uniform. The shorts made his knees stick out, and the shirt clung to tight to him. And to top if off there were no pockets- he couldn’t carry anything, no pens, multimeters, batteries. It was horrible.

Until it wasn't. Cecil was here, he didn’t know why, because although he hadn’t had this class more than once before he knew Cecil didn’t have this class.

“Hey what are you doing here” He asked with a smile.

“Oh.. I have a free period first on tuesday and Coach asked me to come and run laps with everyone.” Cecil replied nervously. Cecil always seemed to always be enthused or nervous. It was rather endearing.

“You run?” Caros said, lifting an eyebrow in response. Cecil, while attractive didn’t look particularly athletic he always seemed gangly or spidery.

“Yeah...” Cecil laughed before he could continue. “I was some what of a track star I guess before i got into the morning announcements and got my heart set on radio.”

“Around fourteen right?” Carlos asked.

“hmm? Sorry What?” Cecil tilted his head to the side with confusion.

“That you changed interests. Studies show that fourteen is the average time in which peoples interest dramatically change to reflect their own personalities rather than their parents.” Carlos rattled off, he was about to get into more statistics until he saw Cecils face pull into a smirk.

“What?” Carlos asked.

“Nothing, you are just really cute when you... you know science.” Cecil blushed and gestured to the air.

“Oh.” Is all Carlos could say before coach appeared.

“Everyone. Laps now. Palmer, go get changed.” Coach  Nazr al-Mujaheed shouted, shoving a meaty arm in the direction of the track.

“I’ll be back!” Cecil said, jogging off to the locker rooms.

Carlos--

His feet hit the ground, left foot, right foot, repeat. His beaten up converse, as he still hadn’t had the time to get proper running shoes, threatened to fall apart with every stretch he ran. Running was exhausting.

He felt his shirt catch on something. The collar of the sports shirt tighten slightly around his neck, the chest of it becoming a second skin as the back stretched out. He stopped running only to turn around and see Cecil.

“Carlos” Cecil said.

“Cecil?” Carlos parroted back, raising an eyebrow with skepticism.

“Come on!” Cecil said, gesturing off track.

“Why... wheres... there?” Carlos asked curiously.

“Do you want to keep running?” Cecil laughed. He could probably see the sweat dripping down Carlos’ brow from when he had hit his mile and a half marker on the track.

“Okay” Carlos said breathing heavily from the strain of running.

Cecil outstretched a hand. Carlos could hardly fathom what he was thinking. After the night at Marcus’ house on street cleaning day his head had been spinning. Yet instead of thinking about it he filled his brain with logic, trivia, data, anything really that made concrete sense- he figured that Cecil would have to talk to him sooner or later. He only felt slightly guilty for not initiating conversation first; he had tried though, yesterday in science but was thwarted by nerves. He took Cecil’s hand.

It appeared to be a shed on the outside. Cecil had dragged him to a building a whiles off from the track. It had grey siding and a rusty metal door; it probably dated back to the 40’s when the school was originally made. The whole building seemed to tremble with even the light winds of the warm day.

“Here we are...” Cecil said, opening the door. “I hope you are okay with the dark”

“Yeah, yes thats fine. But what is this?” he asked curiously.

“You’ll see.”

Cecil --

Somewhere around the lights could be found, he knew this from the years he had spent camped out here. He loved this room; studio 7. Studio 7 was the old school radio building from when Night Vale High School was still apart of the community college. They had shut it down mid 80’s when budgets got too tight to support a full student run radio. He and Dana had found this building their freshman year of high school. It was glorious.

“Here we go!” He said to Carlos, who was still, fortunately, gripping his hand in the dark.

“What is this place?”  carlos asked. He looked like he wanted to take notes or measure something.

“It’s the old radio studio from when the high school was part of the college.” He replied. Cecil could feel the awkwardness that floated through the air, both of them wondering where they were in terms of each other and themselves- together. Carlos was looking down, no doubt at the intintercrite patterns that interlapped on the concrete floors.

“So... hey, um.” He started, catching Carlos’ attention. The other boy looked at him with a look that read as both nerves and encouragement. He continued, “I wanted to talk to you-”

“Good or bad?” Carlos said, cutting him of effectively.

Cecil blushed, the heat of which set his tattoos dancing across his skin. “Oh definitely good, well good if you say yes, or agree. Totally good. Well if you don’t want to then I guess it will be bad for me but I think its good.”  Cecil felt himself ramble, he could hear himself spewing words but couldn’t take the energy to correctly organize his thoughts into a linear path of thinking. His brain was buzzing with the thought of correcting the unresolved relationship which was him and Carlos.

“Yes.” Carlos said smiling.

“What?” Cecil said, staring into Carlos’ eyes.

“Yes. To dating you.” Carlos replied confidently.

“How did you know?” Cecil asked, awestruck. Where his brain had been humming before with millions of abstract thoughts and possibilities, now there was only one thing his head couldn’t seem to wrap around, the idea of yes.

“Well, scientifically speaking” Carlos grinned at Cecil, “No, I just, I don’t know... knew?”

“Good.” Cecil said. He looked down to where he realized they were still connected. Hands intertwined. He yanked Carlos forward and asked, “Does this mean I can kiss you?”

“Always, you know as long as we have the proper amounts of time to eat, sleep, you know basic human survival things.” Carlos said, chuckling.

“Sweet baby Glow Cloud yes, now lets do science with our face!” Cecil said.

“Cecil, I’m not sure that how that works, at all.” Carlos said, laughing and still trying to understand what Cecil had even attempted to mean.

“Shhh.” Cecil sounded, brushing off Carlos’ concerns. Carlos rolled his eyes at Cecil and leaned in Their lips brushed together and their other hands that hadn’t been intertwined twisted into each other. Cecil pressed into Carlos’ space, biting lightly into the other boys bottom lip, which subsequently  lead to Carlos slipping hands out of his and pulling him closer by intertwing two strong arms around his waist and lifting slightly before pulling away.

“Wait does  this mean you are my boyfriend?” Carlos asked after breaking the kiss.

“Yes” Cecil laughed. Carlos had lowered him the few inches back to the ground, so he rested a head on the slightly taller boys shoulder. “And speaking of boyfriends, my mom wants you to come over to dinner.”

“How does she know?” Carlos asked.

“Fey.” Cecil replied as that should be both obvious and expected.

“Oh. Well, I would love to. “ Carlos said.

“We should kiss more.” Cecil said, lifting his head off of Carlos’ shoulder where he had been mumbling out answers.

“Don’t you mean ‘science with our faces’?”  Carlos mocked.

“Oh shhh.” Cecil said for the second time that day.

Chapter Text

Chapter 12: In the Lonely Hour

Seven months later

Student 131568445:

Please note the following information;

It is of importance to inform you that Strex Cop is eliminating the Night Vale exceptional student import program as new and more productive programs are being integrated into the greater community. We ask you to vacate the premises of residence among completion of the school year. A cleaning crew will arrive on May 3^rd with the instructions to destroy everything remaining. For the assurance of life without obliteration by smiling home cleaning crew be out of your residency by May 1^st.  No one needs to know about the elimination of this program. We are watching. Smile.

Your Friendly Neighborhood Monopoly,

Strex-Corp

The letter that Carlos received from Strex-Corp had arrived with a bus ticket back home. He didn’t remember taking the bus here but that was hardly surprising. His earlier days in Night Vale had long escaped his memory; his confusion about the cultures and people within was replaced with a firm slip of acceptance. More importantly the letter was irrelevant to him. In the past seven months Night Vale had become his home, Cecil was there. Wherever Cecil was, was always and forever be his home; he had fallen ridiculously far into love. He cared for Cecil in such a way that the inertia of their initial attraction could have carried them for an eternity but the force of a string pulling them together had them accelerating into their infinity together. Every day there were more things to love and he couldn’t imagine that stopping any time soon. How Carlos felt about Cecil was beyond the scope of what he could explain with theories or laws, yet he had all the evidence he needed.

“Ohhhhh Carlos!” was shouted, in the melodic voice belonging to Cecil. It bounded up the stairs and leaped over the threshold. Cecil’s interruption in Carlos’ internal monologue reminded him that school had yet to happen for the day and they were running the increasing risk of being late the longer he stood there in boxers.

            “You aren’t ready.” Cecil said, halting just past the entrance of the apartment resting on top of Big Rico’s Pizza. Carlos could tell that Cecil was drinking in the image of him, naked save boxers, because of the way that Cecil let out the beginning of a high pitched noise that could only come from the back of his throat.

“I will I just have to--” Carlos spun around in a circle, his words getting lost in his search for the rest of his clothes.

In his movement he missed the steps that Cecil took to get closer to him. Cecil wrapped his arms around the other boy and nestled his chin on scientist’s neck.

“What’s this?” Cecil said, curious as ever, plucking the note out of Carlos’ hand. It was the Strex-Corp note, the one that Carlos had no clue what he was going to do about. The weight of the note on his mind was unbearable so he stepped away from it. if only he could step away from the problem completely.

“I don’t even know what to do about that.” Carlos said, slipping on a pair of khakis that was laying mostly unharmed and void of most chemicals on the floor.

“Wait.” Cecil had finished the note and was staring at Carlos with a look of horror. “Just wait.” Cecil said, a hand gripping the t-shirt that Carlos now had in hand. Cecil looked crushed. The veins of the heart tattoo seemed to explode of Cecil’s skin- shooting up and intertwining in each other before bursting into the pattern of slipping blood.

Carlos remembered the day that Cecil had showed him the tattoo. The night after Carlos’ had had the dreaded dinner. Not that Carlos had thought ill of Cecil’s family, but more so that they terrified him more than anything in Night Vale. What if they didn’t like him?  The Palmer family dinner was interesting to say the least- they ate meatloaf and garlic bread and something out of a deep black pot that Carlos stayed away from. Fey had sat across from him smiling and not eating. It was there that Carlos learned that Fey was an adopted AI that had manifested a body and while not biologically Palmer she was accepted as part of the family. Plus she was very good at math. And karaoke. Fey was probably the best part of the dinner save Cecil himself. Cecil’s mother on the other hand- she was a kind lady- but nervous in the way that made everyone around her nervous. Only everyone in this case seemed to be solely Carlos as Cecil and Fey seemed unaffected.

“Don’t touch that!” She had whispered, as if she’d be scared the offending object would hear her cautions. He had been leaning on what took shape as a large rectangle propped between floor and wall draped in a white sheet. “You won’t like what you see” Cecil’s mom had a nervous hunch to her- as if the thoughts in her head weighed her down, burdened her.

Carlos had looked towards Cecil to make sense of what he done. Instead of clarification Cecil merely said, “It’s a mirror.” Because that had totally explained everything. The mirror was forgotten though, and Cecil’s mother – Ms. Palmer – relaxed as much as it seemed she could. She was pleasant then, funny and caring for her children. He couldn’t place the nervousness and wasn’t sure he wished too.

The dinner took an upswing in Carlos’ opinion with the arrival of Cecil’s older sister, Clara. Though he would be hard pressed to say that Cecil would have agreed, because with Clara Palmer came the infamous Steve Carlsberg. He couldn’t even credit his skills of observation to hypothesize how much Cecil detested Steve Carlsberg because the minute he was in the room Cecil was nothing but eye rolls and biting comments. Fey had managed to slip to Carlos that the hatred came mostly from the fact that although Cecil had recently decided that Clara was far superior to Steve Carlsberg and his sister deserved far more. Carlos also became privet to the knowledge of Cecil’s small past infatuation with Steve. With that came a mild flare of jealousy in Carlos until Steve mentioned how his father had taught him how to play poker over the weekend and Cecil rolled his eyes once more and snapped, “Yeah because everyone loves a gambler, Steve.”

Steve seemed relatively oblivious to how genuine Cecil was and laughed off everything Cecil threw at him. Carlos had a hard time not laughing with Cecil’s own mother and sister. The room had taken on a jovial feel and the awkwardness of the mirror had been forgotten momentarily. It was when they were excused from dinner and making their way to Cecil’s room that he had noticed the giant canvas on the wall that held a portrait. On first glance Carlos had wanted to say a family portrait- but it wasn’t at all- it was old and weather, looking like it had been on the wall longer than the house looked like it had existed for. But the portrait wasn’t just of Fey, standing still in only a way that an engineered being could, or Ms. Palmer, and her  slightly hunch only upstaged by the wild look in her eyes. Cecil and Clara were in it as expected and although two years apart they stood in a way that suggested they were or could be twins center frame, but Carlos himself and Steve were there as well. They stood on either side of their significant other, Carlos had his lab coat on and a confused look on his face while Steve stood in a cream button down smiling, mid laugh. The button down was the one that Steve had been wearing and upon thinking back his laugh in the picture had mimicked his laugh at Fey teasing him.

Cecil explained that the painting changed based on who was in the house and a year ago Carlos would have been dumbfounded by the technology- or the magic- science… whatever it could be called but that day it had simply been “neat”.

“I could show you something that would be neat…er?” Cecil had said. He said it in a way that it sounded like he wasn’t quite sure where the sentence came from but was committed to it none the less.

There had been only way to respond, “I might be persuaded”

And that’s how the tattoos came into Carlos’ worldview. His heart copied onto Cecil’s chest, pulsing, ebbing, and living there. It had been freaky at first- as everything in Night Vale once was; but mostly it confirmed his suspicions about the bond between them. He had loved Cecil’s then even if he hadn’t admitted it and the heart- his heart- on Cecil’s chest was evidence of that and gave him comfort in a bond that had grown more quickly than he could explain.

Cecil—

            “Carlos!” he said. He was at a breaking point. He felt himself pull away- his physical actions disconnected from his mind- to look at the man he was clutching to desperately. Carlos was wearing one sock, it was a sock that Cecil had gotten him for his birthday, and they were Socrates Socks because Carlos always enjoyed a good educational pun.  Carlos was wearing khakis, the same pair Carlos wore to what he knew his boyfriend called ‘The Dreaded Dinner’. The same pair of pants that he had slipped on after the first night they spent together and he had remembered in the middle of the night that he left his keys in the ignition of his car even though Carlos had reminded him… twice. Carlos was bear chested and he could follow the small smattering of hair that peaked out of his pants and up his chest- he could follow the tendons from his neck up to his face. Carlos was lost to the world thinking of other things.

            “Carlos” he reiterated. His voice cracked with the emotion lying under the shallow cover of security. This letter was every nightmare that he had, every single one wrapped up and presented as reality when he had so long told himself was no more real than a fantasy or dream was.

            “Yeah” Carlos said.

            “What does ‘yeah’ mean” he replied. His voice had an incontrollable tremble to it. This could ruin everything. He knew that Carlos wouldn’t leave him and as much as he wanted Carlos to stay with him, being unable to be in a science program would just not be right for Carlos. He didn’t want to be the reason that Carlos wasn’t perusing the right things.

            “I- I don’t know what to do Cecil” Carlos said.

One Week Later

Carlos-

They had decided he would stay. He decided he would stay. He was moving into the room above the Palmer family’s garage. It would be perfect and he would find a job and strex-corp hadn’t really said that he needed to move. It could just be hypothesized that it was merely strongly suggested.

Everything is going to be okay. Statistically that is what everyone says right before everything goes wrong but everything is going to be okay.

“Carlos!” Much like the day before, Cecil had started talking to him before he had fully ascended the steps.

“Hmm?” he relied. His boyfriend bounded up to him, kissing him hard. They hadn’t gone far. They’ve slept together in the traditional way. They did what Carlos soon learned was called ‘frontage’ but even in seven moths there had never been a reason to go further they were happy- he was happy and Cecil seemed happy. Especially in this moment; with their lips melded together.

“I want to stay here one last night- please?” Cecil whined, barely moving away from his lips.

“Of course… I mean there is nothing here but we can stay.” He said, more caught up in returning back to the kiss. He deepened it, letting their tongues slide together; his hands drifted up to Cecil’s chest, to rest where he knew just underneath he thin fabric of the shirt there was the tattoo. The tattoo was their hearts beating together.

“I want too-” Cecil’s hands made a b-line from his waist to the front of his zipper. “Can I?”

He didn’t give a verbal yes but he nodded enthusiastically against Cecil’s face; slipping his own hands back down and under the shirt he had merely been feeling a moment ago.

Somewhere in-between buttons and zippers, in-between hands and peeks through hooded gazes they ended up on the bed. The apartment abandoned by all furniture and possessions as he prepared to leave was filled with the escaped vocals of their entanglement.  

“I love you” Cecil said, rolling over. Cecil’s body was beautiful, the tattoos dancing across his skin.

“I know” he said, smiling. “I love you too” he intertwined their hands together; feeling the tattoos from his boyfriend’s skin creeping onto his. Everything was alive, vibrating with the energy of exhilaration.

“I don’t think I’ll ever feel lonely around you.” He watched Cecil’s mouth form these words, and once again the other boy’s sentiments exceeded the level of connection he thought he could have with someone. There was no science behind these feeling.

“You stole the words right out of my mouth” he said with a smile. This was it. this was happiness.