(WARNING: attempted rape, but nothing over PG, PG-13 at the most)
"Hey, Cecil!"

The radio intern averts his eyes, hugging his notebooks closer to his purple-sweater-vested chest. He really hates that Steve Carlsberg guy - what an asshole he is, always bullying him.

"I said, Hey, Cecil!" Steve yells, a little more loudly this time. Cecil can see the purple tentacles and other tattoos that he's had since he was seven wriggling, giving away his nervousness. He quickens his pace, Converse gliding along the polished linoleum floor.

Heavy, pounding footsteps sound after Cecil, and now he's running, pushing people aside and reaching into his pocket for his phone to call the one person who will always come and save him.

Steve catches him right as he hits the Call button, but he leaves the phone in his pocket. As he's slammed against the locker, he hears Carlos pick up on the other end.

"Get - get away from me, S-steve," Cecil stutters. "C-Carlos told you to s-stay away from m-me!"

"Well, your precious Carlos isn't here right now, is he?" Steve mocks. Cecil is shaking, but he knows - hopes - Carlos is still on the line.

"No, he isn't by the lockers in the English wing. He's probably in the science labs," Cecil says, trying to make his voice louder than it normally is so that the phone will pick his voice up.

Steve looks confused, but easily brushes it away in favor of the weak, helpless victim in front of him. "And that's far, far away. All the way on the other side of the school. That makes you mine. The real question is what should I do with you . . . "

"Let me go?" Cecil suggests, knowing it won't happen.

"Well, I could shove you into a locker," Steve muses, "or flush your books down the toilet - followed by your head . . . "

"I could go on my merry way and you could see a psychiatrist?" Cecil says.

Steve glares at him, shoving him against the locker again. "No . . . no, I have a better idea." His gaze flickers to the closet before darting back to Cecil, his grin gaping evilly.
"The c-closet?" Cecil stammers, hoping his Carlos can hear the words.

"Yes, the closet. I know exactly what we're going to do in there." Steve drags Cecil by the front of his sweater vest. He drop his books; they lay abandoned by the lockers as he is forced into the janitor's closet.

It's so dark, Cecil is worried that his phone screen will show through his pocket; luckily it doesn't. Steve is a faint silhouette, looming above him.
Cecil's heart is beating faster and faster, he's hyperventilating, and he wants Carlos. Suddenly, the tiny dark room floods with purple light.
Cecil's tattoos - the ones that Mark him as future radio host of Night Vale - glow in the dark, and they illuminate Steve's faces with creepy shadows and odd white patches.

"You make me crazy," Steve murmurs, brushing his knuckles against Cecil's cheek; the smaller, younger boy shudders at the foreign touch. "You drive me wild."

Cecil cringes away, cowering against the wall and nearly knocking over the brooms and mops leaning against the wall. His phone - hopefully - is still in his pocket, still streaming to Carlos. Carlos is hopefully coming to save him.

"I was going to ask you out, you know," Steve says.

"W-what?" Cecil whispers.

"I wanted to ask you out. You're so cute and tiny, with your blond hair and your tattoos and your feminine figure . . . "

Cecil looks down, embarrassed. He doesn't know where Steve is coming from - he has on his standard khaki pants, a white button down untucked with rolled-up sleeves, and a purple sweater vest, with his Converse and glasses of course.

"I don't mean that in a bad way," Steve laughs as Cecil self-consciously tries to make himself smaller. "I mean you're tiny and curvy and delicate, and I fell in love with it."

"So y-you bullied me . . . W-why?"
"Because my family hurts me at home. Every single day, when I go home, I get beat up and insulted and hurt by my mother, my father, my brother . . . They think there's something wrong with me because I like guys. But I will get over this damn crush, I swear."

"How will you - "

Cecil is cut off by Steve, pressing his mouth against his. His lips feel rough and chapped, and Cecil doesn't like them. They aren't the lips of his Carlos. He shoves Steve away, spitting and retching into a bucket on the floor.

"What the hell, Steve!" Cecil shouts. "I have a boyfriend!"

"Yeah, but you can do so much better. You could have ME."

Steve shoves Cecil against the wall and slams their mouths together. He swipes his tongue across the younger boy's lower lip, but Cecil will only let his Carlos into his mouth. His efforts foiled, Steve bites down hard on Cecil's lip. When the future radio host squeaks in alarm, Steve takes his opportunity to shove his tongue into his mouth.

Cecil's scream is muffled by Steve's mouth. Steve is aggressive and rough, nothing like his Carlos. Carlos is strong and smart, yes, but he always takes it gentle and slow with Cecil, because he knows the anxiety he might cause otherwise.

Steve is reaching for Cecil's pants, sliding his hands over a very off-limits area. Cecil's tattoos are glowing a violent red, and flashing, and he is trying his damnedest to shove the bigger boy away, but he's too weak to be effective.

Steve is unhooking Cecil's pants, tugging them down, running his hands in places they should not be, all the while kissing him harder and harder and harder, and Cecil's tattoos are flashing urgently. His mind is a constant mantra of carloscarloscarloshelpsomeonepleasegetawaystevedonttouchmetherecarloscarloscarlossavemeplease

And then, whatever entity watches the world looks favorably at Cecil, and has pity on him. (A/N: also, the entity wishes to keep a rating below R😝) The door is flung open, revealing Carlos. He is panting, phone pressed to his ear, glasses slipping. Safety goggles sit atop his perfect and beautiful hair, and a lab coat hangs over a plaid flannel shirt with jeans and sturdy sneakers.

Steve shoves Cecil away, and he curls into a ball. "Your whore of a boyfriend totally just came onto me!! He's such a fu - "

The words never leave his mouth.
Carlos punches Steve Carlsberg in the face, and he collapses backwards in a heap.

"I heard everything you said - Cecil called me. You are a disgusting creature. It's no wonder everybody hates you, Steve Carlsberg." Venom drips from his voice as he says the dreaded name.

Carlos scoops up his shaking, still-flashing-red boyfriend in his arms, as well as his clothing and books, slams the door shut, and sprints away. He runs until he can't run any longer, winding up somewhere in one of the empty labs in the science wing. He carefully deposits his precious cargo on the floor and catches his breath.

Cecil is still curled into a loose ball, but the minute Carlos touches his shoulder he jolts into the fetal position.

"G-go away Steve!" he shouts. "You aren't my Carlos! You cannot touch me, you cannot kiss me, you cannot have me, I am not yours!!"

"It's me, Cecil," Carlos says sadly. But he is not sad that his boyfriend is scared of him, because he knows it is neither of their faults. He is sad that his poor boyfriend has had so many unpleasant circumstances that have led him to this moment.

Cecil opens his deep violet gold-specked eyes, peering from behind purple glasses. His tattoos, still blood red, thrash frantically. When he sees who it is, he launches himself at his boyfriend.

Carlos suddenly finds himself with arms full of a shaking, sobbing Cecil. He sinks to the ground, pulling Cecil onto his lap, soothingly running his hands up and down his loved one's back.

"I'm not a whore," Cecil sobs. "He forced me into it. Because of some stupid crush, now I'm dirty and tainted and you won't want me - "

"That's bullshit," Carlos interjects. Hearing Cecil pause, he goes on.
"I know he came onto you. I heard the whole thing via phone. Plus, you're shaking like a leaf and your tattoos are panicking.

"I've got you, Cecil. You're safe now. I love you, so much. Steve is an i
asshole."

Cecil's head shoots up, his bloodshot purple eyes meeting Carlos's beautiful chocolate ones.

"Say that again?" he whispers.

"Steve is an asshole?"

"No no, before that."

"I love you so much?"

"That," Cecil says. His tattoos still show panic, and Carlos is frightened that he's hurt or scared his boyfriend away. But then the tattoos are a writhing mass of purple and gold ink, and Cecil is saying, "I love you, too, Carlos. So much. My beautiful and perfect scientist," and he is kissing him. Carlos realizes, as they are kissing, that this is the first time they have told each other "I love you."

He smiles into the kiss.

When they finally pull apart, Cecil snuggles against his boyfriend's strong chest.

"You are my new hero, Carlos."
"I'm not a hero, Cecil," Carlos laughs. "I'm a scientist!"

"Well then," Cecil murmurs, "scientist just have to be my word for hero from now on."
(A/N: the multimedia is teen Cecil denying the existence of "mountains")