(WARNING: kinda graphic and mildly sexual [nothing really past making out though] so you have been warned. Also, picture the guy above with red instead of purple.)

"Cecil?"

The scientist does not know where he is. He does not know what entities have brought him here. He only knows that he is not where he should be. Of course, it is pitch black, and science tells him that this is usually not good. Something restricts his hands, holding them behind him as he sits, but nothing is apparent.

"Cecil, are you here?" Carlos calls again. He turns his head, praying he will see his boyfriend. This is a futile effort, of course, as it is still pitch black.

"Carlos," someone calls.

"Cecil? Cecil, is that you?"

"Caaaaaarloooooos," the voice calls again - high, ghostly, faint, not really what Cecil sounds like. But Carlos is willing to believe anything.

"Cec? Honey, where are you?"

"How sweet!" someone gushes. "He has nicknames! Like a little pet! I'm so excited to be with you!"

Carlos knows that voice, and although it sounds eerily like his boyfriends, he knows it's not. It's too happy, too high, too dark and twisted.

"Kevin," Carlos spits, knowing the voice that sends shivers down his spine. This twisted double of his beloved Cecil, lurking just out of his sight, is the subject of many nightmares that leave his radio host screaming in terror.

A bright light is suddenly blaring into Carlos's face, and he can't see anything. A soft something brushes across his cheek, slipping past like a hand or a tentacle or something. He can hear things whipping around him and he is suddenly afraid. He shoves the fear into the bottom of his stomach, because he must be brave. (It's the third thing a scientist is, after self-reliant and smart).

"Hello, my darling Carlos," the voice singsongs. A dark shape looms in front of him, but the light is so bright he can't see anything just yet.

"I'm not your 'darling' anything," he spits. "I love Cecil Gershwin Palmer and not you, you - "

"Ah, ah, ah," it teases, covering the scientist's mouth with something slimy and cold. "You must always be polite when you visit someone, riiiiiight?"

Carlos responds by reaching out and clamping his teeth down - hard - on whatever covers his mouth. The captor screams and yanks it away. Carlos spits violently to remove the taste from his mouth, and as his vision focuses, he stares in horror at the person in front of him.

Cecil's doppelgänger is the same height and build as him, with the same shock of blond hair and sense of style - sweater vest, button-down shirt, tie, radio headphones slung around his neck. He wears mostly red, however, as opposed to Cecil's usual purple. He doesn't wear glasses, revealing red eyes, and his mouth is edged with gaping, haphazard slashes, twisted in a bizarre attempt at a smile. And instead of Cecil's purple tentacle-and-eye swirling tattoos, he has literal red tentacles, one of which is throbbing.

"Owww! Carlos," Kevin whines, his mouth still smiling, clinging to the slightly swollen tentacle. "That's not nice, now is it?"

Carlos looks around, ignoring Kevin for the time being. His wrists are bound together behind him, and it feels like cold, thick metal - chains. They also bind his ankles to the chair legs. The room is a twisted version of Cecil's recording studio, everything mangled in some way, with the "ON AIR" sign looking like it's been painted on in a suspiciously dark red liquid. His lab coat is dirty and torn, and his glasses are smudged.

"Carlos, you have to pay attention to me!" A tentacle whips past the scientist's face, leaving a stinging cut. Blood trickles down Carlos's face as he struggles with the chains restricting his arms.

"You can't leave just yet, " Kevin says. "You'll miss all the fun!"

"What fun?" Carlos asks. He is so terrified that something will happen to Cecil he doesn't realize something is going to happen to him until Kevin is leaning over him, one hand on either side. His tentacles caress Carlos's bare skin, which is when he realizes that under his lab coat he is shirtless.

"Yes, what fun we're going to have!" Kevin trills. "You see, my darling Diego is away on some sort of tedious business." He pouts like a little kid denied candies.

"And it just so happens that as I am Cecil's double, Diego is yours. So while he handles your little radio host, I get to play with you."

Kevin grins, revealing a mouthful of sharp white teeth and a flickering black tongue with little barbs along the side, similar to his tentacles. Then, tentacles brushing along Carlos's skin, he shoves their mouths together.

Carlos thrusts his body out violently, flinging Kevin away, but the doppelgänger just laughs and uses his thrashing tentacles to hold the scientist down in the chair.

"I like them feisty," he hisses, eyes glowing with an evil light. His mangled mouth is against Carlos's again, suddenly, heavy and sticky. He is nothing at all like the lightness of Cecil's kiss, usually tasting like apples and mint. This just tastes like rotting meat and death and decay.

Carlos gasps sharply in pain as Kevin slides his sharp tongue into his mouth, barbs catching on the skin of Carlos's cheeks and tongue, leaving a nasty metallic blood taste.

Kevin pulls away, mouth slightly bloody, licking the liquid off his lips. Carlos spits a mouthful of blood to the side, still restricted by chains and Kevin's tentacles.

"Get away from me!" Carlos yells, struggling and kicking against the restraints. All he can think of now is his Cecil, his poor boyfriend being molested in the same way he is by a twisted version of the one they love.

Carlos is a virgin, never having gone beyond making out with anyone, and he suspects Cecil is too. He wanted their first time to be together, wanted his first time to be with Night Vale's beloved radio host. Now it will just be with this -

"Monster," Carlos spits. "That's all you are, is a monster, you bastard."

Kevin simply shrugs off the insult, along with his vest, tie, and shirt, leaving him bare-chested and exposing even more writhing red tentacles. He swipes them along Carlos's chest, and they sting like whiplashes.

Kevin flicks his tongue out, locking up the blood and creating more cuts, more blood. Carlos screams loudly, painfully aware of the stinging slices on his chest.

Kevin's tentacles are whipping around, stroking Carlos with long, dragging motions and creating little rivulets for tiny rivers of blood. Kevin tugs at Carlos's pants, reaching for his boxers.

He wakes up bathed in a cold sweat, screaming loudly. The room around him is dark, except for the soft shimmering lights of the neon Arby's sign, as well as the colorful lights from above the Arby's.

"Carlos?"

The panicked scientist turns frantically, seeing the pale shape rising up next to him, and for a split second he's afraid that Kevin has come for him again. But as his eyes adjust, he sees Cecil - his Cecil, with his purple only-tattoos tentacles - rubbing at his violently violet eyes.

"Cecil?" Carlos gasps. He grabs his boyfriend, pulls him close to his chest, hugging him close.

"My beautiful Carlos, my perfect scientist, what's wrong?" Cecil asks, voice slightly muffled by the chest of his boyfriend in his face.

"I had such a horrible nightmare," Carlos gasps. "Kevin had me, and he was - "

"Kevin," Cecil growls, sitting up. His tattoos writhe angrily on his skin, which seems like it is slightly rippling - almost bubbling.

"He had me tied up, and he was dating my double who was after you and he had these horrible tentacles - "

"Tentacles?" Cecil sounds a little bit confused, and maybe hurt.

"Not like your tattoos," Carlos reassures. "Real tentacles, horrid slimy barbed things, and he was cutting me and licking at the blood and it was so gross, and all those tentacles - "

Carlos shudders at the thought; Cecil pulls away suddenly, climbing out of their bed and walking towards the door. Carlos is confused, and reaches for him.

"Where are you going, sweetheart?"

"Bathroom," Cecil responds, and Carlos thinks his voice sounds a little shaky and - broken?

"Ok," Carlos murmurs, laying back down. He settles himself snugly under the blankets when, suddenly, something whooshes around behind his head. Nails scrape softly against the headboard.

"Hello, Carlos," a feminine voice whispers - cold, almost disapproving. "It's me - the faceless old woman who secretly lives in your home."

"What are you - "

"Don't move," she hisses, and now there is disapproval in her voice. "Do you know what you've done?"

"What?" Carlos is very confused, and pretty frightened at this point.

"Your boyfriend thinks you hate him. He thinks you're disgusted by his tentacles. He hates himself right now."

"But Cecil doesn't have tentacles - just some tattoos of them!" Carlos is completely baffled, and normally he would be asking science about this, but he cannot. He resorts to listening to the faceless old woman.

"Kevin is Cecil's double - an evil copy, yes, but an exact one. Cecil has tentacles too - he just prefers to hide them as tattoos, as opposed to walking around with them waving all over the place. He thought they would scare you off."

She makes a disgusted noise in the back of her throat. "Clearly he was right. He thinks you won't love him anymore. Poor soul. The first taste of love he finds, and now he thinks he's going to lose it."

"Cecil isn't really in the bathroom, is he," Carlos realizes, horrified.

"Not so much," the faceless old woman remarks. Carlos bolts out of bed and scrambles towards the bathroom. A faint scratching noise sounds behind him as the faceless old woman retreats, satisfied with her work.

When Carlos finally makes it to the bathroom, the light is on, seeping under the door. Something is sticky on his bare feet, and looking down he sees a thick, congealing purple liquid that is eerily similar to blood.

Carlos yanks open the door forcefully, violently, and is horrified at what he sees. Cecil is sobbing, holding a purple-stained knife, tentacles peeling from every available surface of skin (which is a lot, considering he sleeps in just his boxers) and writhing around.

Cecil slices a tentacle off his chest, whimpering in pain as it falls to the floor. The entire bathroom is splattered in purple blood, now spraying from the hole in Cecil's abdomen, faintly twitching tentacles littering the entire floor.

"No, no, no!" Cecil sobs, watching as violently purple lines of glowing ink trace a new tentacle along his chest. It peels away, replacing the one he just sliced off.

"Cecil, what the hell is going on?" Carlos yells. Cecil sobs even more loudly, meeting Carlos's eyes only fleetingly before stabbing at his tentacles with a renewed vigor.

"I'm so sorry!" he cries. "I'm such a freak - perfect Carlos - I'll make myself perfect too - you'll see! I can - I will - I must - "

Carlos tackles his boyfriend to the floor before he can respond, smearing the sticky purple blood all over himself. Cecil screams; Carlos concentrates on wresting the knife from his love's hand. When he gets it, he flings it away with such violent force it impales itself in the wall next to the mirror. Cecil balls up on the floor, curling into the fetal position, tentacles falling limply. Carlos scoops him up into his arms and carries him into the kitchen to tend to his wounds.

Carlos sits Cecil on the kitchen counter the way his mother used to when he was small. Pulling the box of medical aid supplies out from the cabinet under the sink, he first takes a washcloth and soaks it in warm water, using it to wipe the blood away and clean the cuts of his boyfriend. Cecil sniffles, still crying softly.

Carlos says nothing, simply switching to a clean washcloth after he has cleaned the radio host's arms and legs. He scrubs gently at his chest and his limp tentacles, bruised and battered. As he wipes at Cecil's hair and face, seeing tear streaks and the way Cecil refuses to meet his eyes, Carlos sets the washcloth down and whispers, "I'll be right back, lovely." Cecil nods dully as Carlos slips away.

"He isn't convinced," the faceless old woman hisses as Carlos enters the bedroom. He grabs his hair, sliding down the door and sinking to the floor.

"What am I going to do?" Carlos moans. "I need to ask science about this!"

"You don't need to ask science anything," she spits. "You need to show him you love him."

"How? We haven't even had sex yet, I doubt that he'd - "

"So that's it, then!" the faceless old woman cooed. "That's all you have to do!"

"But I wanted that to be special. I mean, I'm still - "

"Still an innocent virgin, I know, I know," she snaps. "So is Cecil. That's why this has to be so special for both of you. Show him that you love him - oh, but be very gentle. Cecil's had a troubled past, and he might take some time."

Carlos jumps up, thanking the faceless old woman profusely. Extremely nervous, mind racing, he runs for the kitchen. Cecil is still sitting there, although he has stopped crying. The scientist cleans the cuts with medical disinfectant and wraps them in white gauze bandages, planning his words all the while.

"Cecil, I love you," Carlos says, startling the radio host. "I love you, so so much. When I came to Night Vale I didn't expect to stay more than a few weeks, maybe a month tops. And then I met you, the love of my life, and now I never want to leave. I love you Cecil Gershwin Palmer. So much."

Cecil simply states at him, stating, "I love you too, Carlos, I always have. Since the moment you first arrived."

"Exactly," Carlos says, gripping Cecil's hands gently in his own. "Cec, your tentacles are beautiful. I'm so sorry it came to this. They're another scientific anomaly I'd love to study, but right now I need to show you how much I love you."

"At 2:37 in the morning?" Cecil asks, turning to glance at the clock above the stove.

"After what just happened in the bathroom? Yes," Carlos replies. With a single sweep, Cecil is in his arms bridal style as he heads for the bedroom. When they get there, he sets Cecil down before noticing a condom sitting on the nightstand. He smiles, making a mental note to thank the faceless old woman as he turns back to his boyfriend.

"Carlos, what - " Cecil is stopped with a kiss, gentle, slow, chaste, from his scientist. At first, Carlos is frightened and hesitant. After all, they've never gone farther than this before. And while Carlos had made out with a few people in his day, he isn't totally sure of Cecil's response. But remembering what the faceless old wan who secretly lives in their home said - and the bathroom debacle - he is reassured in his conviction.

Carlos hesitantly pokes Cecil's lower lip with his tongue. Cecil stiffens slightly, startled, but does nothing. Carlos swipes the entirety of his radio host's lower lip, hearing a soft squeak as Cecil opens his mouth in surprise. Seizing his chance, Carlos slides his tongue into Cecil's mouth.

Their tongues tangle together, and Carlos is reminded of stories of making out, where you have to "ask for entrance" and "battle for dominance". This isn't like that, he thinks. It just kind of spontaneously happens.

Carlos pulls Cecil onto his lap, and the radio host wraps his legs around his scientist's waist. The kiss is deepening, and Carlos can feel Cecil's tentacles moving. He pulls away for a moment, leaving their foreheads touching.

"Is this okay?" he asks.

"Yes," Cecil breathes. Carlos hesitantly runs his hand along Cecil's chest, tracing the purple tentacle tattoos that have reappeared. His hands trail Cecil's sides, moving back up to his back.

"Want to keep going?"

"Absolutely."

Carlos pulls them together again, and this time he bites down on Cecil's lower lip. He opens his mouth, letting Carlos shove his tongue in. They're kissing passionately now, and sudden Cecil's tentacles are wrapping around Carlos, pushing them closer, closer. Cecil has his fingers tangled in his scientist's hair, tugging slightly.

Carlos moves his mouth to Cecil's bare chest, attaching to his collarbone and sucking at the tender skin there. Cecil tastes so good, he thinks, like all his favorite things - fresh strawberries and cinnamon ice cream and peppermint hot chocolate. Cecil moans as Carlos pulls away leaving a bruise on the otherwise flawless white skin.

"My turn," Cecil smirks, as Carlos fingers the love bite lightly. He starts kissing at Carlos's neck, his collarbone, and the scientist groans slightly as he stiffens. Then they're kissing furiously again, and Cecil is grinding his hips against Carlos, and as they topple over, he grabs the present the faceless old woman left them.

Some time later, they're cuddling, naked under the blankets, with Cecil's tentacles tracing unknowable shapes on Carlos's tanned skin.

"I'm glad your tentacles are smooth and not barbed," Carlos remarks.

"I'm glad you're mine," Cecil drawls slowly. "I'm glad you were my first time, beautiful Carlos. Perfect Carlos. Wonderful Carlos."

"I love you, Cecil," Carlos says. "Im sorry if I hurt you earlier. I honestly didn't mean to, I - "

Cecil cuts him off with a sweet, gentle kiss. "It's okay, my Carlos. If I was upset, would we have done what we just did?"

"No," Carlos smiles, wrapping his arms around his radio host. As they drift off, he hears Cecil murmur his famous last words - with a slight twist.

"Good night, my Carlos. Good night."

(A/N 2: LONGEST SINGLE THING EVER WOOT WOOT. MESSAGE ME WITH IDEAS IF YOU WANT TO. OR JUST SAY HI. I'LL SAY HI.)