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It's early evening in Night Vale.
Well, probably. You can never be sure – given that time doesn't work here – but it seems like early evening, at least. The sun is low on the horizon, blue sky gradually blending to orange and purple, heralding the onset of night.
Carlos has been home for a few days now, but everything still feels new. And special.
And weird.
Take this evening, for example. Once Cecil got home from the radio station, they had dinner together, and then they sat and watched a documentary on spontaneous monolith generation (which, let's be honest, really needed to dedicate more time to the associated impact on thermodynamic law) and then…
Well. Then this. Cecil has gone off to find his phone – given that it has a tendency to wander away if he doesn't keep an eye on it – leaving Carlos in the living room.
Leaving him with his thoughts.
This… is difficult. On the one hand, he's home, and he's with Cecil, and that's amazing. More than amazing. The last few nights have been… yes. Definitely more than amazing.
But Carlos can't quite shake the awareness of how long he stayed in the Otherworld Desert… and by choice. He had no option in the beginning, but after a time… he knows he could have found a way back. And, now he knows what that non-old-oak-door-related way is, he knows he would have found it relatively quickly, if… well.
If he'd tried.
Why didn't he? Carlos loves Cecil. Loves him intensely. And he knows it, now more than ever. So why did it take him so long to come home?
Science. It was for science. Wasn't it? There was so much science to be done in the Otherworld Desert, and missing an opportunity like that… he couldn't. He just couldn't.
Only… there's another reason. Isn't there?
…Actually there are two other reasons. And one of them…
There's a flash of memory in Carlos' mind for a moment, and he sees it: the way the night sky in the Otherworld Desert looks when you've been flipped suddenly down onto your back by… by…
…Don't think it. Don't think it. Don't…
"…Carlos?"
The sound of his own name makes him jump, and Carlos looks over to see Cecil walking back into the room.
"Uhm. Hey?" Carlos says, trying to sound nonchalant and failing quite spectacularly.
Cecil gives him an odd look. "I found it," he says, waving his phone before slipping it into his pocket. "It was trying to get into the roof space again. And…" He headtilts. "…What is it? You seem… not OK."
"I'm fine," Carlos replies, quickly. "Honestly, I'm fine."
If he was any less convincing, he could run for public office. Cecil clearly catches onto it and moves in closer, sitting at his side but not quite making contact. Not yet.
Carlos wishes he would, suddenly. He needs it. Needs the other man to wrap him in, hold him tight… and overwhelm him with how much he needs this too.
Needs…
Another flash of memory, and Carlos feels it this time: fingertips on his skin, hands pulling him apart, and the shiver of delight as wonderful, wicked things are whispered into his ear by…
…He curls up a little, instinctively.
"Come here," Cecil says, softly, and does pull him in now. Carlos moves gratefully into the contact, even though he knows the proximity will give too much away. Like how fast his heart is racing. Although maybe he can just…
He kisses Cecil, pressing in closer, needing him. Needing him. Cecil murmurs in obvious happiness, and he keeps his hands on Carlos' face as the kiss breaks.
"What is it?" the other man pushes, gently.
"Nothing," Carlos lies, although he can hear in his own voice how completely unconvincing he is, and Cecil just looks at him, not even needing to say a word to – after a moment – tease out the truth.
Carlos sighs, and drops his head, which makes Cecil move his hands, taking hold of Carlos' instead.
"…I wasn't trapped there," he says, softly. "Well, OK, I mean, I was in the beginning. I really was. The whole thing with the light, and the doors, and… that was true. I promise that was true."
"I know it was," Cecil replies, and it's obvious that he does, even if it's also obvious that the memory is painful.
"But I… eventually it wasn't true anymore, because I wasn't trapped. I… I had just stopped looking. And OK, yes, I still didn't actually know about a way back, but… but I wasn't trying to find one, either."
"I know," Cecil tells him; though Carlos is sure of this already, of course, even if neither of them has ever actually said it out loud. There were some difficult phone conversations regardless, especially… especially just after Christmas. Especially when…
A third flash of memory: words, this time. Delicious compliments, whispered in his ear; wicked promises, breathed across his skin. And all… all in that voice; the voice that was the most unfamiliar part of the other man. The other other man…
Carlos tries to pull away, as if these sudden thoughts had been out loud. Cecil doesn't let him, keeping a firm but gentle hold on his hands.
"You were scared," Cecil says, softly. "I suspected as much at the time and I'm certain of it now. You were scared. Scared of me. Scared of what this meant. Most likely scared of Night Vale itself, too. It… has that effect on people."
He's right, of course. Carlos was scared. Scared of what he wanted. Scared of actually having it. Scared of settling down, when he'd spent so much of his life wandering…
But he loves Cecil. Loves him completely. Wants him. Needs him. Truly, madly, deeply.
"I was," Carlos answers, not quite able to meet Cecil's eyes now. "Being out there… it gave me more time to think. About this. About us."
"Did it help?"
"It did. It's why I finally realised I needed to come back. Come… come home. I'd been clinging to my science but, when it all fell down… I realised what the most important thing was. What… what I really wanted."
"And what did you really want?" Cecil asks. It's a leading question, and they both know it, but that's all right. Especially because Carlos really rather likes the idea of where it might be leading.
"You," he answers.
Cecil smiles, and kisses him, and it's all so lovely that – for a moment – Carlos thinks of nothing else. Just this. Just here. Just him. He curls in closer, giving in to the kiss, to the embrace, pushing deeper into Cecil's arms and resting his head on his boyfriend's shoulder when the kiss finally breaks.
"I love you," he says, voice little more than a whisper. "I mean it. I do."
"I know you do," Cecil replies. "I love you too."
Carlos closes his eyes. If he could just stay here in this moment forever, everything would be fine.
Everything would be just fine.
One more flash of memory: only words, this time. Only words because everything else is too painful to engage with. "This can't happen again. It can't. I'm sorry."
…But it still happened, didn't it?
"Tell me," Cecil starts out, carefully. "Tell me what's wrong. I know something is. And… whatever it is… it's OK. I promise it's OK. Let me help."
He really is a lot more astute than he thinks he is. Maybe – right now – too astute.
Carlos sits back. He has to do this. He has to do this now, before it gets any worse. Before it's too late. "…There's something I haven't told you," he says, speaking quickly so he can't lose his nerve.
"There's plenty you haven't told me," Cecil replies, with a wry little smile. "But that's OK."
"This… this is different. This is something I should have told you."
There's a flicker of concern in Cecil's eyes, though nothing more, and he grips Carlos' hands again, holding on tight. "Then tell me," he says. Asks, almost.
Deep breath. "It's something that happened in the Otherworld Desert. It… it's about Kevin."
Cecil's expression hardens a little at that, though Carlos knows the reaction isn't directed at him. "I see," the other man replies, carefully now. "What about him?"
"He and I… we were friends when we both lived there," Carlos says. "I first met him months back – a little before Christmas, actually – but I never told you because… because I know how you feel about him, and I thought it would worry you."
"You're right," Cecil answers. "It would definitely have worried me. I know what the man is, Carlos. I heard, I saw, what he and his colleagues from Strexcorp did to Night Vale when they were here."
"I know that," Carlos goes on, scared that he's already losing it. "I do. But… but that was Strex. It wasn't him. And over there… over in the Otherworld Desert… he was… he was different. Better. Still… you know, still a little odd, but… better."
"I'll take your word for it," Cecil says.
Carlos looks down. "It's why I kept the two of you apart when you came to stay. As much as possible, at least. He wanted to talk to you – properly talk to you – but I told him he shouldn't. But he and I… when you weren't there… we were friends. And…"
Just say it. Just say it. Just say it, before the weight of the unspoken words becomes unbearable.
"…There was a night. One night, just… just a little after Christmas. I was… and he… and… we…"
The words weigh more than all the planets. All of them. Even the ones no longer classified as such.
"…We slept together. Just once. Just one night. And in the morning, I… I told him it couldn't happen again. I'd been upset, and I knew how he felt, and though I didn't initiate it, I certainly didn't object, and…"
Carlos tries to pull back. Cecil doesn't let him, though the other man's eyes are wide with shock.
"Did he hurt you?"
"No!" Carlos insists. "No. He never hurt me."
"Then… then… why?"
"…Because I wanted him. I wanted him, and I was… I was upset… so when he made a move… I allowed it. I… welcomed it."
Cecil still hasn't let go of him, and Carlos is confident this is the only reason he himself hasn't tried to make a run for it. "…Do you still..?" Cecil starts out, but doesn't quite seem able to finish the question.
His point is clear enough, though. "…On some level, yes," Carlos answers. "But I promise you it only happened that one time. And in the end… I came back to you because I want to be with you. You. Though if you want me to go, I'd–"
"No," Cecil gasps, pulling him in and holding on. "Don't go. Don't leave me again."
"I don't want to," Carlos says, and he means it. "I missed you more than I can put into words. I want to be here with you."
It doesn't mean he can turn the other feelings off, though. Because they are still there. He knew it in the Otherworld Desert and he still knows it now. He wants Cecil very, very much… but, on some level, he wants Kevin too.
But… not instead. No. So what, then? As well..?!
"I'm sorry," he whispers, burying his face in Cecil's neck for as long as the other man still wants to hold onto him. "I'm sorry."
"It's all right," Cecil says. And Carlos knows that it isn't all right, but it's still good to hear. And maybe, eventually, it will be all right again.
Maybe it can be.
"What happens now?" Carlos manages, a little terrified by what the answer to this might be.
"Now?" Cecil repeats. "Now… I take you to bed. And remind you why you came home."
And who you belong to. That. Please, that. Though Carlos isn't quite brave enough to ask.
Cecil rises to his feet, pulling Carlos with him, keeping him in close and kissing him again once they're both standing. And it feels amazing. Completely amazing. And though Carlos knows all of this isn't over, it's good to have such clear proof of how much Cecil still wants him.
He pushes into the contact all the more, suddenly needy. Wanting the other man so very much. Wanting him to–
They're interrupted by the sound of a knock at the front door.
Both men pause, pulling back just enough to look at each other.
"Who could that be?" Carlos wonders aloud. "Are you expecting anyone?"
"No," Cecil replies. "Although if it's Steve again, with another one of his grainy surveillance photos, I swear I'm going to call the Secret Police."
"Cecil, he's your brother-in-law."
"That's no excuse!"
The knocking comes again, slightly more insistent this time.
"I'll go see who it is," Carlos says. "If it is Steve, I'll tell him you're busy. And if it's someone else, I'll tell them you're still busy. And… then I'll come back. And keep you busy."
Despite everything, Cecil manages a surprisingly wicked smile. "You have the best ideas."
Carlos extricates himself from his boyfriend's arms and heads out of the living room and into the hallway, up to the front door. He's so caught up in thinking about the conversation he's just had, and what he hopes will soon follow, that he doesn't really pay much mind to who might be on the other side of the door.
Which is why, when he does open it – and sees who is on the other side – he gives a sudden, short shriek of surprise, and promptly slams the door shut again.
And there's no way Cecil is going to miss a reaction like that. The other man steps through into the hallway, to find Carlos standing with his back to the door as if scared it's about to burst open. Because he is.
"…Carlos?" Cecil says, quizzically. "Who was it?"
"No one!" Carlos insists. "Wrong number! Uh… door! I mean…"
The knocking comes again. Carlos jumps back from the door, closer to Cecil, who looks at him in alarm. "Carlos, what's going on?"
"Nothing. Nothing! Everything is fine!"
But Cecil is – unsurprisingly – not convinced, and he moves around Carlos, stepping up to the door and opening it.
Well. The truth of the matter is that this moment was inevitable, one way or another.
"…You," Cecil breathes, when he sees.
"Hello, Cecil," says Kevin. "We need to talk."