Carlos solo listening to Cecil
anonymous
July 19 2013, 08:29:51 UTC
I'd love a fic of Carlos listening to Cecil on the radio for the first time, and hearing a loving description of how "beautiful and perfect" Cecil thinks he is. Flattered and turned on by Cecil's voice, Carlos masturbates while listening.
I Want You (To Make The Days Move Easy) (1/6)obsessionalitySeptember 17 2013, 13:54:26 UTC
To OP: I'm sorry if this is not exactly what you wanted. I got a different tone than what I'd been aiming for. This is unbeta'd, and my first fic in this fandom. Be kind, or Cecil will be upset. Cross posted to AO3 and LJ, where the former has nicer formatting and the latter is... well.
When Carlos arrived in Night Vale, he had no idea what the hell was going on. It’s not like he hadn’t known what he was getting into, when he signed up for the research stint in Night Vale. With all the returning scientists either having to be committed to asylums or flying off the Nepal to live out their lives as goats, he’d known that he’d be neck deep in something, even if he hadn’t known what. But despite all of that, he had had no idea what he was getting into.
Occasionally he wondered if he was just permanently high, or something, because what the actual fuckBut apart from the feelings of complete and utter befuddlement, confusion and outright panic, he mostly felt overwhelmingly lonely
( ... )
I Want You (To Make The Days Move Easy) (2/6)obsessionalitySeptember 17 2013, 13:57:04 UTC
And he’d lain in his bed, alone, that first night, and had, embarrassingly enough, cried himself to sleep. They’d told him that Night Vale was insane, sure. He’d taken their stories with a few pinches of salt (entire saltshakers). He should have taken their stories as understatements, but he didn’t blame them. He’d have to understate his own stories when he went back out, because no one would believe him otherwise. If, he went back out.
They hadn’t told him how loneliness could cripple you. How you could sit alone in your lab and feel invisible, and worthless, like you were going to melt into the shadows (metaphorically, not literally). They hadn’t told him how the silence in your apartment could feel like an anvil on your chest, until you struggled to breathe. They hadn’t told him how cold it could get, at night, in the middle of the desert, in Night Vale.
And on his third day, when he’d been looking up tickets for New York, he’d remembered something his mother had once said to him. She’d told him that when she was lonely,
( ... )
I Want You (To Make The Days Move Easy) (3/6)obsessionalitySeptember 17 2013, 14:03:55 UTC
He’d sat down, and listened to every word the radio host had said. Every, single, word. Even though not many of them made sense in the order they were said. Especially not the parts about the municipally mandated slice of Pizza at Big Rico’s. Carlos was a science scientist, not an economics scientist (he didn’t think they were real scientists, but he was too nice to say so - science had perfect rules, and economics seemed to be made up entirely of exceptions - that was not science), and even he knew that there was something the Competition Commission would have had to say about Big Rico’s tactics
( ... )
I Want You (To Make The Days Move Easy) (4/6)obsessionalitySeptember 17 2013, 14:06:58 UTC
“Dear listeners, have you had a chance to meet our new scientist?” Cecil asked, and Carlos stilled even more, running hot and cold because what.
“Is he not absolutely perfect?” he shivered, and his hands moved as if he couldn’t help it, pushing his boxers down and off. Carlos didn’t consider himself an egotistical man, but he was still a man, in the end. Hearing that voice, say those things about him, well.
He was hard, and he touched himself in the darkness. The windows were open and milky moonlight was pouring in, dappling the room in silver. But he was in the shadows, and he touched himself without shame. It had been a very, very long time since he’d been touched, even by his own hands. He just hadn’t felt the need, so he hadn’t.
“With his gorgeous, dark, curly hair, and his strong chin, he’s beautiful.” It was enough to make him whimper, because he was the furthest thing he could think of, from beautiful, but the voice, Cecil, sounded so utterly convinced. He sounded like he was stating irrefutable facts, and the certainty,
( ... )
I Want You (To Make The Days Move Easy) (5/6)obsessionalitySeptember 17 2013, 14:08:38 UTC
In any other circumstance, that would have been really weird. Really, really very weird. But this was Night Vale, and weird was clearly relative, so he disregarded it, and let himself feel the warmth of the words, and Cecil’s voice, washing over him
( ... )
I Want You (To Make The Days Move Easy) (6/6)obsessionalitySeptember 17 2013, 14:10:58 UTC
He wondered hazily, if Cecil would agree to keep pumping him, even when he was trembling and shaking and over-sensitive, over-stimulated. He could never manage it, himself. His arms went limp, and he flinched away from his own touch when the tingling tension prickled against his skin. He wondered how he’d react if Cecil held him down and kept touching him, after he came. He wanted to know what it would feel like, to be so willing, and to still have to be held down.
Cecil was saying something about Steve Carlsburg, and a farmer, and he sounded so fierce, that Carlos had no doubt that he could be forceful in bed. His voice turned tender as he talked about Carlos again, saying something about him being ‘beautiful and perfect’, and then, his voice sounded like a hug. Like a living blanket of warmth
( ... )
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When Carlos arrived in Night Vale, he had no idea what the hell was going on. It’s not like he hadn’t known what he was getting into, when he signed up for the research stint in Night Vale. With all the returning scientists either having to be committed to asylums or flying off the Nepal to live out their lives as goats, he’d known that he’d be neck deep in something, even if he hadn’t known what. But despite all of that, he had had no idea what he was getting into.
Occasionally he wondered if he was just permanently high, or something, because what the actual fuckBut apart from the feelings of complete and utter befuddlement, confusion and outright panic, he mostly felt overwhelmingly lonely ( ... )
Reply
They hadn’t told him how loneliness could cripple you. How you could sit alone in your lab and feel invisible, and worthless, like you were going to melt into the shadows (metaphorically, not literally). They hadn’t told him how the silence in your apartment could feel like an anvil on your chest, until you struggled to breathe. They hadn’t told him how cold it could get, at night, in the middle of the desert, in Night Vale.
And on his third day, when he’d been looking up tickets for New York, he’d remembered something his mother had once said to him. She’d told him that when she was lonely, ( ... )
Reply
Reply
“Is he not absolutely perfect?” he shivered, and his hands moved as if he couldn’t help it, pushing his boxers down and off. Carlos didn’t consider himself an egotistical man, but he was still a man, in the end. Hearing that voice, say those things about him, well.
He was hard, and he touched himself in the darkness. The windows were open and milky moonlight was pouring in, dappling the room in silver. But he was in the shadows, and he touched himself without shame. It had been a very, very long time since he’d been touched, even by his own hands. He just hadn’t felt the need, so he hadn’t.
“With his gorgeous, dark, curly hair, and his strong chin, he’s beautiful.” It was enough to make him whimper, because he was the furthest thing he could think of, from beautiful, but the voice, Cecil, sounded so utterly convinced. He sounded like he was stating irrefutable facts, and the certainty, ( ... )
Reply
Reply
Cecil was saying something about Steve Carlsburg, and a farmer, and he sounded so fierce, that Carlos had no doubt that he could be forceful in bed. His voice turned tender as he talked about Carlos again, saying something about him being ‘beautiful and perfect’, and then, his voice sounded like a hug. Like a living blanket of warmth ( ... )
Reply
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