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Most days, Carlos was quite eager to thoroughly investigate the oddities of Night Vale with unbridled enthusiasm. However, there were a few days when he rather missed the previous calm normality of his hometown. After losing a few of his scientists to an apparently carnivorous type of grass, and nearly getting eaten himself, today was one of those second type of days. He passed through the doorway to his house, quickly averting his eyes from the mirror in the entryway. It was covered of course, but one could never be too careful, especially after a day like today. He switched on the radio, hoping to catch the last few minutes of Cecil's show. If anything could soothe him after a rough day, it was Cecil’s voice. Cecil’s voice could soothe anybody after any type of day. Carlos sat back on the couch and closed his eyes.
“Listeners, it’s that time of year again. Time to break out the Christmas decorations, although some people seem to prefer the term Christmas defense systems. It doesn’t really matter in the end though.”
Carlos sighed. Could it really be Christmas time again? Last year hadn’t been too bad. Well, actually Carlos wasn’t completely sure how well last year had gone. He’d tucked himself away in the back of his closet and listened to calming Christmas music to drown out the sounds of the battle waging outside. He’d only been in Night Vale for six months at the time, and hadn’t yet come to terms with the fact that holidays in Night Vale seemed to usually involve a lot of warfare and death.
“This year the City Council has decided to lift the ban on Christmas wreaths, although I can’t help but wonder if that’s really the best decision, considering the original reason for the ban four years ago. But hey, they usually know what they’re doing, right? So who am I to argue?”
Carlos creased his brow in confusion. He would have to ask Cecil what that original reason was later. Then he thought about it for another minute and decided he didn’t really want to know. Cecil's voice continued talking about Christmas preparations and how to stay safe, and also something about caroling, but Carlos was half-asleep by then and not truly listening. Time ceased to exist as he dozed lightly, drifting here and there through the void of consciousness that was his mind. He thought he heard Cecil mention his name, and dimly wished that Cecil would stop telling the entire city about their love life.
Then Carlos heard his name again and realized it wasn’t the radio. He opened his eyes and nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw Cecil’s face where he thought he was going to see the ceiling.
“Cecil! God, you scared me!”
The immediate look of horror and sorrow on Cecil’s face absolutely melted his heart, and Carlos took Cecil’s hand in his, pulling him down onto the couch beside him while he sat up and tried to calm his pounding heart.
“I’m sorry, Carlos, I didn’t mean to. You gave me a key to your house and you said to come over anytime and I thought the key meant I didn’t need to knock and I’m really sorry, I just–”
“Hush, Cecil. It’s okay. You didn't do anything wrong. Don’t worry about it.” Carlos petted Cecil's hand in attempts to reassure him. He glanced at the clock on the radio. It was never actually right since time didn’t actually work properly in this town, but it was usually close enough. “It’s late. What are you even doing here?”
Cecil blushed so hard Carlos almost became worried for his health. “I know it’s really early but I got you a gift for Christmas and I wanted to give it to you.”
Carlos blinked. So they did give presents as well as kill each other around here. Okay.
When Carlos didn’t immediately respond, Cecil began nervously fidgeting with the bottom of his shirt with one hand and held out a small box he’d had behind his back with the other. “I’m sorry it’s so early, but I think you should have it and be familiar with it before Christmas comes.”
Carlos quirked an eyebrow but took the present. He unwrapped it slowly, not having a single clue as to what this seemingly innocuous box could contain. It could be a live miniature pigeon for all he knew and he would hardly be surprised. He finally got through the layers of tissue paper and stared at the gift in his hands. He was, of all things, surprised.
“You . . . got me . . . a pocket knife?” It was a surprisingly normal gift from Cecil.
“You said once that you’d lost yours. It’s not much of a weapon, well not like bayonets or candy canes are anyway but it seemed to mean something to you and they can still be useful so . . ."
Carlos silenced Cecil with a kiss. He loved Cecil's voice but if Carlos let him ramble too long Cecil was going to work himself into a frenzy. “Thank you, Cecil,” he said as he pulled away. Cecil blushed hard, but then went in for another kiss. Carlos had a feeling that this Christmas was going to be so much better than last year.