Actions

Work Header

A Different Kind of Perfect

Work Text:

It was dark, though that was hardly a surprise since it was just Carlos' turn to have his house shrouded in a piercing shadow. That meant it would be dark for quite a while and no amount of turning on the lights would be able to fix it. It was this sudden darkness that had essentially trapped Cecil in Carlos' house, incapable of finding the door due to the scientific clutter that adorned almost every surface in the place. Attempting to stumble his way through it was a bit too much like navigating a minefield of invisible and very sharp foreign objects, and had forced Cecil to stay the night with Carlos for the very first time.

It was this same darkness that emboldened Carlos to make a move on his favorite public radio host again, telling himself that the piercing shadow would hide all the insecurities and anxiety Cecil had shown about it in the past. It had been almost three months since that first kiss outside Carlos' lab, and they still hadn't gone much farther past that. It was maddening; Carlos was sure that Cecil was interested, but something still held him back whenever the moment turned more passionate.

Fortunately the sudden onset of darkness seemed to give him as much confidence as it had Carlos, and he soon had a very pleased sounding Cecil eagerly returning his kisses on the couch, where they had been stranded in the dark.

It was a good pace, soft and patient, like they had all the time in the world just to enjoy each others lips and tongues, and Carlos supposed they would if a temporal loop decided to accompany the shadow. But he had to admit that, while making out with Cecil for an eternity was tempting, he hoped it wouldn't come to that.

Within seconds Cecil had his hands in Carlos' hair, which also wasn't a surprise, and was a very welcome show of affection. Carlos had never had a thing for people playing with his hair before. He'd never really had a thing for a lot of things he was now okay with after living in a place like Night Vale, but he often found he was fine with how the town was changing him, and especially fine with how Cecil was changing him.

Carlos leaned back against the cushions, guiding Cecil over him with hands pressed firmly against his cheeks, moaning softly as Cecil's weight settled against him and his dick gave an appreciative twitch. Cecil tensed for just a moment as though reconsidering their current position, but Carlos nipping at his lip seemed to change his mind easily enough, and he settled back into kissing the breath out of his favorite scientist.

But despite his eagerness, Cecil remained tense, and Carlos began to feel a little guilty about trying to push him when it still clearly made him so uncomfortable. He was about to ask Cecil if he'd like to stop when a sharp pain in his lip had him breaking the kiss with a curse as he put a hand to his mouth. It came away wet, but in the dark there was no way to tell if it was blood or simply saliva. Cecil was chanting a litany of “oh no”s and “I'm sorry”s as he buried his face against Carlos' chest, gripping at the lapels of his lab coat, and Carlos couldn't help but chuckle softly at how nervous Cecil was.

“It's okay,” he said as he carded a hand through Cecil's hair. “Just don't bite so hard.”

“Oh,” came Cecil's startled voice through the darkness, “Of course. I definitely won't bite. As hard.”

Suddenly Cecil was taking the lead, moving so urgently that it was like they suddenly had no time for taking it slow, and Carlos was incredibly happy that he was able to put his boyfriend at ease as he helped Cecil fumble to remove his lab coat in the dark, insisting his glasses stay on because he didn't know where they would land or if he'd find them again once the shadow had moved on. It made it more difficult to pull his t-shirt over his head, but it was better than accidentally stepping on them when they finally got off the couch.

Cecil's clothes proved to be a bigger challenge. He'd come over straight from the radio station, and while a tie and a sweater vest were easy enough to remove, it turned out being able to see what one was doing really helped with buttons, and Carlos wouldn't be surprised if they found a few on the floor when the shadow finally passed. But Cecil didn't seem to mind as he began biting along Carlos' jaw and down his neck, and though it did still hurt a bit, Carlos could tell Cecil was trying to restrain himself and just went with it. It had taken this long for the radio personality to feel comfortable doing these things with him, and if being rough was how he preferred it, then Carlos would keep an open mind and let it happen.

It was honestly a bit surprising just how okay with the situation Cecil was now, grinding his hips against Carlos' as he licked hot stripes up his neck to nibble at his ear, rubbing his nipples to stiffness, and all the while moaning as though he was the one being lavished on; completely confirming Carlos' suspicions that he had also wanted this all along. It was intoxicating, and soon enough Carlos was whimpering as he bucked his hips against Cecil because everything he was doing was wonderful, but it had been three months already and if his dick didn't start getting some attention soon, he might actually pass out. It took some fumbling at Cecil's stomach and hips (though Cecil hardly seemed to mind having Carlos' hands on his bare skin) before Carlos could feel his way to the fly of his slacks, but the second he popped the button and unzipped them Cecil almost wailed as he suddenly pulled away.

Carlos' heart jumped into his throat as he was flooded with the most nauseatingly intense guilt he had felt in his life and groped blindly for the retreating radio host, but grabbed something slick and wriggling instead. He pushed it away with a yelp, and all of his guilt was replaced with sudden and incredibly immediate alarm as he wondered what the hell could have gotten into his house while it was under cover of darkness. But all those thoughts took an immediate backseat as he heard a loud thud and a choked sob and he realized Cecil had fallen off the couch and may have possibly hurt himself or been hurt by whatever was in his house.

“Cecil!” he shouted, reaching in the dark for him again, not knowing what he would even do to protect him when he found him, but knowing that he wanted to at least keep him close because something incredibly strange was going on in his house, though given where his house was located it was possible it was incredibly normal. He could smell smoke now, just a little, and cursed at the piercing shadow over his house because he'd never be able to find and put out a fire while it was still there.

He managed to find Cecil's hand in the dark, but a second later the...thing he had felt earlier was wrapped around his forearm and squeezing it slightly. He tried to pull away, but it held him in place, and when Cecil shouted “no, don't!” a second later, Carlos couldn't help but worry that the thing had gotten him too.

And as luck would have it, if it could be called luck, that was when the shadow passed.

And Carlos found that the thing wrapped around his arm was a long, black tentacle, and that it was attached to his boyfriend, who was cowering under the discarded lab coat.

“Cecil?” he asked, slowly reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder, but Cecil pulled away with another sob, burying his face in his hands as he pulled his knees to his chest.

“Don't look!” he cried, and he sounded so heartbroken, so completely unlike himself that it punched through Carlos' chest and he was scrambling off the couch to comfort him in an instant.

What he found was quite a shock. Carlos had known Cecil had an impressive amount of ink, but the tattoos that covered his arms and torso were moving, warping into masses of large, weeping eyes interspersed with tentacles that weren't entirely unlike the two that seemed to sprout from directly below his arms, as well as what looked like webs of pulsing blood vessels. Not only that, but the smoke that Carlos had smelled was clearly rising from where Cecil's hands were obscuring his face, and there was definitely something...squirming in his pants, and it didn't take a scientist to guess that whatever was down there might not be entirely unlike what was under Cecil's arms. Everything suddenly made complete sense. This was the reason why things hadn't progressed much farther than kissing: there was a lot more to Cecil than there appeared to be, and that something more seemed to only come out when emotions ran high.

“Cecil,” he cooed softly as he wrapped his arms around him and pulled him closer, stubbornly ignoring how weird it felt to have a tentacle writhing against him. “Cecil, what's wrong?”

“Don't look,” he repeated, shaky voice muffled by his hands. “You won't like me.”

Carlos couldn't help but smile as he nipped at Cecil's ear, and Cecil couldn't help but whimper and shiver at the attention. “Of course I'll like you. I always like you.”

“No, I'm not...” He cut off abruptly, shaking his head softly.

“Perfect?” Carlos asked, his grin widening as he gently pushed Cecil over and carefully climbed on top of him.

The motion was enough to dislodge Cecil's hands from his face, and Carlos inwardly congratulated himself for schooling his expression to not show even a suggestion of the shock and, quite frankly, disgust that welled up in him when he was face to face with five eyes, black with deep violet pupils, blinking up at him as smoke drifted up from their corners. More than that, the hands that had been covering Cecil's face so closely each had a lip-less mouth nestled in the palm. They were fully formed with tongues and teeth, and in a moment of temporary irrationality he found himself very glad that the teeth in Cecil's hands weren't as sharp as the ones in Cecil's mouth had become, leaving Carlos to wonder how he managed to not completely shred the somewhat elongated forked tongue he'd suddenly acquired and—as much as Carlos wanted to keep an open mind—he slowly began to feel himself recoiling from the idea of having sex with such a creature.

It wasn't until the violet blush crept across Cecil's cheeks and the look of resigned disappointment fell over his face that Carlos remembered he wasn't looking at some Night Vale horror, but rather his Night Vale horror, and that he was still just as human as anything else that lived in the weird little town, if not more. Much more, in fact.

But, more than that, Carlos was a scientist; a scientist who had come to Night Vale to investigate and research all of the strange happenings there. And this...this was certainly strange, and definitely warranted a lot of scientific research, and possibly very...rigorous scientific testing. Carlos instinctively rolled his hips against Cecil's at the thought and surprised himself by finding it kind of cute the way Cecil's tentacles curled in on themselves as he moaned in response.

Carlos gently grasped one of Cecil's wrists and brought his fingertips to his lips, kissing each one in turn before gently kissing the slightly gaping mouth in his palm, and the gasp that burst from Cecil's lips went straight to Carlos' dick.

“You're perfect to me,” he said before experimentally running his tongue over the now-quivering mouth, and Cecil's cheeks purpled at the same time as his weeping tattoos transformed into beating black hearts and thorny black roses, and it was such a beautiful sight that Carlos knew he had to plunge his tongue into Cecil's palm just to hear his strangled sobs of equal parts pleasure and relief and, much to his surprise, it kissed back. And even more surprising, it kissed almost as well as Cecil did when one factored in that it didn't have lips. Although, Carlos supposed that shouldn't have been surprising because it was Cecil, after all.

Monstrous looking tentacles wrapping almost adorably gently around Carlos' waist brought his attention back to Cecil's blushing face, and the slight smoke still drifting from his eyes. He wondered briefly how much sensitivity the extra appendages had, but thought better than to ask scientific questions when he was attempting to get his boyfriend into bed, especially since only one of them would enjoy it and he was already enjoying himself more than enough as it was.

It was hard to tell exactly what was or wasn't normal for Cecil, but his eyes seemed to be a bit red around the edges where the smoke was now completely dying away, so that was apparently not a constant thing. And the fact that it was only just now ceasing to happen, now that Cecil was all jagged smiles and affectionate tattoos, suggested that it was something that only happened when he was upset.

“Cecil,” Carlos said as he nuzzled his cheek against the back of Cecil's hand. “Do you cry...smoke?”

Cecil's smile faltered as he nodded his head slowly, all of his black eyes downcast, as though his gorgeous oddities were actually a bad thing and not something intriguing and fascinating and making Carlos' dick strain against his pants at the thought of what they could be used for.

God, you're amazing,” Carlos breathed before locking his lips with Cecil's and kissing the breath out of him, knocking his glasses askew but refusing to remove them because there was still so much to see, and Cecil whimpered in response as he fisted his hands into Carlos' hair, pulled his hips closer with his tentacles.

Either Cecil was a lot better at keeping his teeth in check than Carlos had thought, or Carlos was too busy enjoying the sensation of having a forked tongue wrapped in an almost complete circle around his to notice any pain, but he didn't mind either way. Then Cecil's tentacles were pushing their way inside Carlos' trousers and—fuck—they were incredibly prehensile because his belt was hanging slack in its loops without him even noticing it'd been unbuckled. One of the appendages had a firm grip on his cock, and if Carlos had even a moment of clarity to think about how strange it was to be jerked off by something traditionally found on an octopus, it was gone a moment later when the second one slid against his ass and he fell to shuddering and moaning into Cecil's mouth as the tapered end of it pressed slowly inside him, and Carlos found he was very grateful that the tentacles produced some sort of coating that made them fairly slick to the touch.

The sensation of a tentacle squirming against his insides made his breathing erratic, forcing him to break the kiss he was very much enjoying to come up for air, panting raggedly against Cecil's neck, and it was at about that point that Carlos realized he was sitting in a puddle of something. He glanced downwards and found a gradually spreading patch of black on Cecil's pants, and immediately bolted upright, his chest tightening uncomfortably at the sight, and the rest of him tightening wonderfully around the wriggling tentacle pressing its way inside him.

“Cecil!,” he shouted as he pulled at the waistband of his pants, but Cecil was cupping his cheeks in an instant and the smile he was giving Carlos settled the unease rising within him.

“No, it's okay,” Cecil reassured him. “It's normal. Don't worry.”

Carlos chuckled hollowly at how quickly his definition of “normal” was changing with each passing minute, but normal or not, he still wanted to actually see what was causing the still very alarming mess in Cecil's pants. Lifting his own hips to shimmy the the clothing from Cecil's pressed the tentacle deeper inside him, and he almost collapsed as it brushed against his prostate, knocking the breath out of him and blinding him with burning sparks behind his eyes, and the whimper Cecil made as he watched Carlos' expression blank to one of intense pleasure didn't exactly help settle his violently twitching cock.

“You're distracting me,” Carlos said with a shit-eating grin as soon as he regained the ability to form words, and began working his boyfriend's pants off again.

“But you're beautiful when you're distracted,” Cecil responded and twitched the tentacle again, and Carlos was immediately back to seeing stars.

But, fortunately, not before he had gotten Cecil's slacks pulled down around his thighs and, holy shit, he had a goddamn cuttlefish for a dick.

Or not an actual cuttlefish anyway, but the writhing mass of iridescent black tentacles Carlos was met with certainly resembled the cephalopod more than a little, and the black...liquid of some sort seeping out of it was not only certainly what had been causing the mess he'd been sitting in a moment ago, but, he discovered as he rubbed it between his fingers, was also incredibly lubricious.

A slight whine snapped him back to attention, and the purple that bloomed in Cecil's cheeks as he watched Carlos study his...well, whatever he referred to his own genitals as, was completely debauched, and Carlos realized that he'd just taken off his boyfriend's pants and not only hadn't even touched him yet, but had gone into scientist mode over him, and there would be plenty of time later to find out if it was always sitting just underneath one thin piece of fabric, or if it only came out when needed, and if so where was it when he wasn't aroused, and did he even have testicles, and what was the chemical composition of the oil-like substance he seemed to have instead of pre-cum, and was this also what his regular cum was like, or would he even cum at all through these things, and if he did then what part of the tentacles exactly did it come out of, and...

Carlos' cheeks burned with guilt as he immediately rectified the situation by threading his fingers through the squirming mass of (five, by his count) tentacles, and Cecil's back arched so harshly as he keened from the touch that Carlos wasn't entirely sure he wasn't going to break the man in half if he kept twining the slender things around his fingers. He wasn't worried though, because one tentacle now thrashing against his insides felt amazing enough as it was, and though he couldn't even begin to imagine what five of them would feel like, he knew he needed to get his own pants off immediately or he was going to come to a very unfortunate and early finish if his current mixture of fantasy and reality kept up.

It proved to not be an issue because not a moment after Carlos was done thinking it, Cecil pushed himself upright to unfasten his pants and shove them and his underwear as far as he could down the scientist's legs. It wasn't terribly far, of course, but Carlos managed to pull one leg out just as the tentacle around his dick pulled away and a mouthed palm closed around his leaking cock, and all higher mental functions shut down almost immediately as he was struck with a full-body shudder that had him leaning heavily against Cecil as he bit out a strangled moan.

“No,” he managed to say, pushing weakly against Cecil's chest. “Stop!”

Cecil hesitantly pulled his hand away, but before he had a moment to look hurt and confused, Carlos grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him into a passionate kiss before mumbling “please, just fuck me” against his lips, and, thank however many higher powers malevolently watched over Night Vale, Cecil understood that his boyfriend was much too close to orgasm to appreciate more of his ministrations.

The sensation of no longer being full of a hot, wriggling tentacle was almost agonizing for Carlos, until it was immediately replaced by many more, stretching him a bit farther than the larger appendage had as each of the five smaller digits probed against his walls independently of the others. It was overwhelming to have so much of him massaged at once, and Carlos worried he might actually just go numb from over-stimulation and not come at all, and would have felt incredibly upset about it if the somewhat...unnatural sounds coming from Cecil hadn't snapped him back to reality.

Carlos thought he'd seen all there was of his boyfriend, but another set of eyes had opened directly over his usual pair, his ears and teeth had become slightly elongated, and the hand that was still resting on Cecil's neck was now settled between some rather prominent spinal protrusions. He was completely losing his grip on the innocuous form he usually kept, and Carlos couldn't help but feel incredibly satisfied that being buried so deeply inside him was causing his boyfriend to literally come apart at the seams. He rolled his hips down against Cecil's, forcing the wriggling mass of tentacles deeper inside himself, and Cecil made a sound that was halfway between a howl and a screech, and the shiver of terror that shot up Carlos' spine just made everything all the more pleasurable.

Cecil's tattoos were morphing into what looked like a boiling sea as he wrapped his hand around Carlos' dick again before sinking the mouth embedded in his palm around it and—fucking shit—it didn't have lips but it did a damn fine job with its tongue and Carlos was practically sobbing against Cecil's shoulder as he thrust raggedly into his palm, orgasm tearing through his body so violently that he collapsed against the radio host's body, unable to support his own weight.

Three more tentacles had sprouted from Cecil's torso, wrapping gently around Carlos to hold him upright as the seven within him continued to send searing bursts of pleasure through his over-sensitive body, and with his last coherent thought he grabbed the nearest tentacle and ran his tongue along it, and that was it for Cecil. He screeched again, tentacles wrapping tighter around Carlos, as something incredibly hot and weirdly tingly flooded his insides and ran down his thighs. It was terrifying and beautiful and done so quickly that Carlos barely noticed Cecil was returning to “normal” until he was down to just two rapidly disappearing tentacles and three eyes.

Cecil pulled Carlos into his arms, gently cradling his poor, exhausted scientist as he beamed the most radiant smile at him.

Carlos smiled back. “You know I can never go back to being with normal people after that, right?”

Cecil furrowed his brow. “Why would you ever need to?”

Carlos laughed softly as he absentmindedly stroked Cecil's cheek, tired though he was, before the horrifying oil slick of a stain on the carpet and their discarded clothes caught his attention and brought him immediately to full consciousness.

“Holy shit!” he exclaimed. “Does that wash out?”

“Oh, uh,” Cecil said as his cheeks purpled. “Not generally.”

Carlos shook his head as he settled back into Cecil's arms, resting his head against Cecil's shoulder, his exhaustion washing over him again.

“Remind me to buy a tarp,” he said before falling asleep.