Chapter Text
Carlos isn't really the type to apply the word cute to much of anything or anyone, except say a child or a puppy or some such. And even then, he tends to lean more towards words like endearing. But to his surprise, cute is a word that springs to mind often and easily around Cecil. He's bouncy, playful, spacey, absent-minded, enthusiastic, and cute as hell . His smile is crooked and dimpled, his hair is almost always a mess, his fashion sense is outdated and charming. He sings loudly in the shower, he plays in the rain, he cuddles pillows when Carlos isn't next to him. He cries over movies for hours, he tries to cook dinner and burns it horribly, he makes bubble baths that are more bubble then bath. He is charming, and quirky, and cute. And Carlos can't resist the urge, sometimes, to pull him into his arms and kiss his forehead, soft and gentle, sometimes. There is nothing sexual in it; it is just a brush of lips against skin, loving, tender, and Cecil blushes and ducks his head, smiles that beautiful smile, and peeks up from under long lashes shyly. “You,” Carlos tells him “are very, very cute.” And Cecil will laugh, and press his face into Carlos's chest, and it takes his breath away how much he loves this man.
Cecil is a toucher. Light, affectionate contact, constantly; he has no real sense of personal space. Even with people not Carlos, he tends to be very physical. He hugs, claps shoulders, loops his arm around people casually, will grab you and pull you behind him without thinking about how it might upset you not to be insensitive but simply because he doesn't think about it.
Carlos loves it- has learned to love it. At first he spooked away from it slightly, not used to it, not sure how to react. That hurts, and it's obvious; Cecil actually asks him if he'd like him to stop touching him so much in a shy, tiny voice, and Carlos feels about an inch tall. But they are, luckily, able to talk to each other like grownups, and he explains that no, he's just- not used to that, Cecil, that's all. I like it, though.
Cecil touches the back of his hand lightly, or his shoulder; will play with his hair absently, or drape over him like a sloth.
But Carlos's favorite thing by far is Cecil's little, loving kisses. He'll bend slightly (because Carlos is actually several inches shorter) and peck him, lightly, on the cheek. Always on the cheek. Always quick. Before bed, before work, sometimes just to say hello, sometimes for no reason at all.
Those are the best ones.
The first time they kissed, Carlos was almost too afraid to go for it. But Cecil looked so shy, and unsure, so dejected and nervous and what could he do but lean over and kiss him. Just softly, as Cecil said. It had been dry and close-mouthed, and it hadn't lasted long, but Cecil had melted under it. The second time Cecil had moved first, and it had been considerably more sexual; open mouthed and hot. Cecil tasted of mint and chocolate, and his lips had been remarkably soft, and the sounds he made were beautiful. Cecil kissed the way he did everything else; enthusiastically and whole heartedly. He still does; no matter how many times they kiss, Cecil acts like it's the first.
Carlos is ticklish. Cecil knows this because when they are sitting together on the sofa, watching a movie, he turns his attention away from the screen and turns it to pressing kisses all over every inch of Carlos he can. When he gets to Carlos's ear, the man jumps, swatting at the sensation and accidentally belting Cecil in the face, who falls over laughing as Carlos apologizes madly. It becomes one of his favorite things to do; kiss Carlos's ear just to make him squirm or jump, laugh at him as he makes faces and snaps at Cecil to stop, you brat- with barely restrained laughter. Carlos laughing is The Best Thing in Cecil's world.
When Cecil cries, Carlos will gently kiss his tears away and then press kisses to his eyelids. It's light and gentle, and they stay resting with foreheads together until Cecil calms. It's the first time anyone's ever done that, and Cecil is touched by the sheer tenderness of the act.
And when Cecil wakes one night in the middle of the night to find Carlos leaning on the sink, tears falling and shoulders shaking, he doesn’t ask what's wrong or what happened. He simply takes Carlos's strong, perfect, beautiful jaw in a pale hand and kisses away the tears, and presses gentle butterfly kisses to each eyelid. It always calms Cecil down. Carlos only cries harder, but he smiles, and Cecil is endlessly confused.