Work Text:
Carlos kissed a sleeping Cecil on the forehead, beside his closed third eye.
“Wake up, sleepy head. You have work.”
Shaking Cecil awake, he got out from under the white sheets, slipped on his glasses, and stretched upward, the muscles underneath his tan skin flexing.
Cecil’s two eyes fluttered open, the black lines of his third eye tattoo became animated, and he smiled up at his beautiful Carlos.
Carlos walked over to the closet pulling off his grey night shirt and took out a white lab coat. “I swear if it wasn’t for you I wouldn’t be in this town.” He studied the lab coat, wondering what shirt to wear underneath it.
“Another weird outbreak came up this week.” Reaching into the dresser, he took out a light purple linen dress shirt. “Not deadly, but it’s odd. It’s almost like laryngitis, but without the actual virus. The afflicted just lose their voices.” He buttons with haste as he ponders. “The time that it lasts varies though. Have you ever seen anything like it?” Slipping on his grey pants he realized the radio broadcaster hadn’t said a word so far.
“Cec?” Turning around, he was met with a wide eyed Cecil, opening and closing his mouth, not making a sound.
"Oh my! Not you too!" Carlos rushed over to his now mute partner. Tapping Cecil's chin prompting him to open his mouth, he slid his lenses down the bridge of his nose and peered inside, studying intently.
“No inflammation. No swelling. No discoloration.” The worry washed away from Carlos’s face as he realized he had nothing to worry about.
“But you feel okay, right?”
Cecil gave a reassuring smile and two thumbs up.
“Great. And you’ll tell me all your symptoms right?”
Looking around the nightstand next to their bed, Cecil found a whiteboard and marker (which didn’t go against the writing implements law because it was for his job) that had yesterday’s show’s notes on it. Erasing the out of date words, he wrote, “Of course. I’m fine, Carlos. Don’t worry your pretty little scientist head about it.”
This time, actually feeling more assured, the scientist smiled back, kissing the other on the cheek.
“There is just one problem.”
“What is it?”
“I can’t do my job without my voice.” He added an extra sad face at the end.
Carlos smacked himself on the forehead for not thinking of that.
“Right! Can’t you take a sick day or something?”
“Do you remember Jane Francis from accounting?”
He thought for a moment, shaking his head.
“No, not at all.”
“There’s a reason for that. She tried to take a sick day.”
“Are you serious!? Cecil, I swear if it’s the last thing I do I wouldn’t let the secret police even look at you funny-”
The mute silenced the scientist by placing a soft finger over his own lips, voicelessly laughing at how protective his lover got over him.
“There is something you can do.”
“Please tell me, anything.”
“You could do the morning broadcast.”
The look of pleading dropped off Carlos’s face and was replaced by some type of half hidden disgust as he shook his head vehemently.
“No, no, no, no, no, I’m sorry but I can’t! I can barely live in this town, let alone talk about it like it’s normal! I’ve only listened to the station maybe three times and that was only to hear your voice. I don’t even-”
He paused to see what the other was writing.
“I can make it worth your while.” He drew a winking face.
Carlos would be convinced by nothing. Or so he thought. But the way the radio host looked at him was hypnotically suggestive to the point where it might have even been a federal crime.
“Oh? Like what?”
Cecil leaned over to Carlos, writing, “You...”
He planted a kiss on his tan cheek “Will...”
A kiss to the other cheek.
“See.” He set a smooth kiss on the other’s lips, got up, and left to the bathroom.
------
“So you’re just going to sit there the whole time?” Carlos asked as he adjusted his head phones.
"Wouldn't you like to know." The written words came with a saucy smile that filled the small studio.
His eyes rolled with poorly hidden eagerness.
"Yes. Yes I would. When do we start anyway?"
He drew an arrow pointing at the countdown clock near the "On Air" sign. 45 seconds.
"Right, right." Any normal person would have seen the large moving purple numbers but Carlos was feeling anything but normal. He was still in this freaky town, now reading out the even freakier news. His degree was in quantum physics, not radio. And he was nervous. Oh yes he was nervous.
Letting out a long breath to calm his slightly shaking fingers, he neatly stacked his show notes and leaned into the microphone.
“The desert seems vast, even endless. And yet scientists tell us that somewhere, even now, there is snow. Welcome to Night Vale.”
The intro music kicking in, Carlos looked at Cecil incredulously.
“What the hell do you people mean by ‘scientists tell us?” he stage whispered. “Of course there is snow. There’s always been snow! It snowed last week for the love of- ugh nevermind!”
The mute simply responded with a shrug accompanied by a smug smile.
Raising an eyebrow, the new host took another deep breath and continued the news, solely running on the hope of knowing just how his boyfriend was going to make it worth his while.
“...The Apache tracker, and I remind you this is that white guy that wears that huge and cartoonishly inaccurate Indian headdress, has announced that he’s found disturbing evidence concerning the recent incident at the Night Vale post office, which had been sealed by the city council since the-”
Carlos’s words caught in his throat as without warning, Cecil sat right down on his lap, straddling his hips, face to face.
“Keep going.” There was that criminally suggestive grin again.
Staring wide eyed at the new human weight on his lap a few moments longer, he cleared his throat and continued.
“Since the great screaming that was heard from it just weeks ago. He said that using ancient Indian magics, he slipped through council security and into the post office, and observed that all the letters and packages had been thrown about as in- ooh!”
Carlos’s cheeks burned red hot as he realized he just moaned out all across Night Vale. Looking down to find the cause of the problem, he discovered a wanton Cecil pecking soft kisses on his neck muscles.
“Cecil, not now.” He seethed through gritted teeth.
But the man refused to yield, simply pointing at the white board which still read “Keep going.”
“I, um- in other news, here’s something odd. There is a cat hovering in the men’s bathroom at the radio station here. He seems perfectly happy and healthy, but it’s floating about four feet off the ground next to the sink. D-doesn’t seem to be about to move from its current hover spot. If you pet him, he purrs-”
The last word came out as more of a sound as the silent man moved on to letting his tongue wander over the dips and curves of his collar bones. He had to collect himself once more.
“And he’ll rub on your body...like a normal cat if you get close enough. Fortunately, because he is right by the sink, it was pretty easy to leave some food where he could get it. And it’s... nice to have a station pet. I wish it wasn’t trapped in a hovering prison in the men’s bathroom, but listen...No pet is perfect. It becomes perfect when you come to accept it for what it is.”
Already barely making it to the next story, the scientist pursed his lips firmly as Cecil’s tongue flicked his ear lobe with little nibbles here and there. He then began to run long fingers along the other’s sides from hip to shoulder, letting his touch linger at the waist.
Thankful for the prerecorded commercial break, Carlos dared to let out a soft sigh. The mute’s body shook with non-vocal laughter as he proceeded to pull off the lab coat as though making a striptease out of the other. The next part of the provocative act was to unbutton the shirt-one that Carlos had never before cursed himself so hard for wearing- one button at a time. With each one of his fasteners popping open much too slowly, he felt his arousal rising, physically. It was evident that Cecil felt it too as he, with a wicked smile, slid his hips gently into it while tapping the white board, repeating himself.
“T-the Boy Scouts of Night Vale have announced some slight changes to their hierarchy, which will now be the following: Cub Scout, Boy Scout, Eagle Scout, B-bl-”
The host took a pause to bite his own hand, muffling the moan brought on by the current tongue, teeth, and lips assaulting his swelling nipples.
“And um...yeah, Eternal Scout.” He rummaged through his now mangled notes for the next story all while failing to ignore the sound of his leather belt being removed from him.
“Also there’s a glowing cloud with some animals- just- just stay away from that and uh.” Another pause to clear the lust rising in his throat.
“A look at the community calendar. Saturday, the public library will be unknowable. Citizens... citizens with forget the existence of the library from 6 am Saturday morning until 11 pm that night. The library will be under a s- oh my- I- ugh-”
The latter part of the sentence was cut off by sounds of pleasure as Cecil put him in his mouth, teasing the swelling tip with ecstasy-causing flicks of his tongue. His lips sucked softly on each pulsing vein. His teeth grazed its length, giving way to even more sensations as he stared up at his lover with hungry eyes. It wasn’t until Carlos was cheekily smacked with the white board by the fellatio giver’s wander hand that he remembered he was in the middle of the broadcast.
“The library will be under a sort of renovation. It...ooh...it’s not important what kind of renovation... Sunday is dot day. Remember red dots on what you love, blue dots on what you don’t.” His words started to obtain an odd rhythm as they fell in time with him rocking in and out of the other’s silent mouth.
“And remember, mixing those up, can cause, permanent, mmhhh, consequences.”
Cecil reached into his briefcase, pulling out a bottle of lube, and moved his massaging fingers further down to prepare Carlos.
“Wednesday. Wednesday has been canceled due to a scheduling error. Yeah....” He shuffled through more of the papers. His words came out like he no longer was saying them for their content, but rather their chant like feel; a chant that went in sync with his body.
“The glow cloud does not need to converse with us. It does not feel as we tiny humans feel. It has no need for...thoughts or feelings of love. The glow cloud simply is. All hail the mighty glow cloud. All...hail. And now slaves of the cloud, The Weather- Yes please now Cecil! Please!” The ending plea just barely made it out of the music break. Cecil responded to it with obscene passion, making quick work of removing the clothes of his own.
Pulling Carlos up from the chair, he moved it to the other side of the studio and bent him over the desk console. Taunting the scientist even further, he licked around and around before moving forward.
“Please Cecil. Please.”
The devilish smirk on his face could not be hidden as the other begged for him lewdly. He pushed himself in. A passionate groan escaped the others lips. Even though half of the people in that little room were unable to make a sound, Carlos had them both covered. His rhythmic oohs and ahhs bounced off the walls, beads of sweat forming over his skin. His lips grew swollen from biting on them to contain his screams. Not wanting him to hold back any words, Cecil pointed at the sign. The same words, a different meaning.
“Oh yes please, just fuck me,” came out in a pant.
He felt Cecil trace a word on his back while thrusting deeper and running a hand through his perfect hair.
“L-O-U-D-E-R”
“Fuck me Cecil.”
It was like getting high off his own name.
They were both close now. The mute’s pace quickened, but the other knew that was not as hard as he could go. Cecil didn’t even finish tracing the word again before-
“FOR THE LOVE OF FUCK, FUCKING FUCK ME!”
The scream sent him into overdrive, pushing them both over the edge.
“How poetic of you.” Cecil quipped with a smirk through his heavy breath.
“Shut up.” Both their eyes grew wide simultaneously. Carlos shot up and embraced him.
“No don’t shut up! Oh gosh please don’t ever shut up ever again!”
“Wouldn’t dream of it. Unless that dream included the sex we had. Because then I might need more convincing,” he laughed. They both laughed.
The “On Air” counter lighting up again, Carlos pulled the chair back to the microphone and Cecil returned to his place on his lap. The microphone went live but he couldn’t bring himself to focus. Sending all the show notes fluttering to the floor, he took Cecil into a deep kiss, only pulling off after a few moments to say “Goodnight, Night Vale. Goodnight.”