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Like Water Through A Sieve

Summary:

(Aka: in which Cecil's favorite words are "Yes, Carlos, I can be good for you.")

Carlos sees Cecil stressing over work, and decides to help him relax, remembering a kink Cecil had mentioned wanting to try last week. Cecil has never been happier that his boyfriend knows exactly how to calm him down.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Intern Rami had that incident with the salamanders in the parking lot yesterday, I’ll have to announce that tomorrow

Vengeful gods where am I going to find a new intern? I’ll announce that too—no, Maureen was right, that would be of very poor taste, I’ll save it until after the weather

The show is tomorrow and the Night Vale People-Who-Don’t-Fit-Into-Socially-Constructed-Categories-Of-Gender-But-Who-Still-Feel-A-Sense-Of-Civic-Responsibility Scouts still haven’t turned in their application for commercial airtime, I still need three of their signatures— Cecil you’re their Scoutmaster, just remind them at your next meeting, I’ll add that to the roster, bump their slot to Tuesday and replace tomorrow’s with existential screaming again

If my phone goes off one more time, I swear to the unsmiling gods—

I swiped my phone from my pocket and set it briskly on the stack of books on the end table. Pointing the camera toward me, I tapped the “receive” button and the phone stopped vibrating the entirety of Beethoven’s Eight-Thousandth Symphony. An image of my brother-in-law appeared on the screen.

“No, Steve, I don’t want to talk right now,” I signed, glaring at him. Sitting there, watching me from his dining room table. Like an asshole. I punched the red button and my phone went blank. I forced air out between my teeth and went back to my paperwork.

From the couch, Carlos waved his hand in my peripherals. “Did you set up your videophone and take his call just so you could yell at him and hang up?”

“Yes,” I admitted, shifting in my chair. My legs were crossed under me, my lap covered in papers and documents and forms and bloodsworn oaths written in not-pen, and just the sight of them made my heart feel like tight strings tugged at it from every direction. I had so much work.

“How are you doing, Cecil?” he asked, and I felt his eyes roving over my cluttered workspace. I picked up a form with “NVCR” stamped in what was probably blood (possibly gelatin) at the top, then threw it back down.

“All right,” I said, my hands tight and controlled. “Just busy, I can handle it.”

“Cecil,” Carlos warned. My name sign – C handshape tapping against the upper left chest – was slower, more deliberate. Without meaning to, I relaxed my shoulders and sighed. Carlos grinned, setting his laptop aside and getting up. “Can I help you, baby?”

It was like my body turned to warm water, run through a sieve. Immediately I started to relax, the anxious thoughts swirling in my head seeming to fade away into nothing. Every responsibility, every ounce of scheduling and necessity and autonomy seeped out of body as Carlos came over to me and wound his hand gently through my hair. I leaned into him, reveling in his warmth and the feeling of safety that came with being physically lower than him. If it wouldn’t have made him take his hand away I would have slunk off the chair and sat as his feet.

“Have you eaten today, baby?”

I hesitated, and Carlos sighed.

“If you have to think, you’ve gone too long. Come on, pet, let’s get you something to eat.”

Shifting my papers to the end table, I rose from my chair and padded after Carlos into the kitchen, where he guided me to sit on the floor next to the chair at the head of the table. The light pressure on my shoulder was all I needed; I sank to my knees and waited patiently, hands in my lap. Carlos dipped two fingers under my chin and tilted my head up. He cocked his head to the side, eyebrows scrunching, and I unconsciously straightened my posture under his scrutinizing look.

“Is something wrong, Carlos?” I asked, my hand wavering by my chin as I looked up at him.

“Wait right here, okay baby?” He leaned down to stroke my cheek. “Don’t worry, you’re all right. I’ll be right back.”

I nodded, feeling the hardwood floor vibrate softly under my knees as he disappeared down the hallway behind me. Keeping my eyes trained in front of me, I waited until the vibrations returned and Carlos came back into view. Relieved, my heart jumped when I saw he was carrying my collar.

“Tilt your head up for me baby, that’s a good boy. You missed this, didn’t you?” he chuckled as I obeyed almost before he finished signing the order. “So eager.”

“Yes Carlos,” I said, unable to fathom much more than that as he buckled the supple brown leather, a few shades darker than my own skin, snug around my neck. A wave of calm washed over my entire body, all thoughts besides Carlos vanished, my whole world centered around his big, warm hands fastening the collar around my throat. I sighed, leaning into his touch.

“That’s better, isn’t it?” he asked, straightening up and smiling down at me. “Just wait right there baby, I’ll make you something like I promised.”

I swallowed, savoring the feeling of my collar tightening for a brief moment as Carlos strode around the kitchen, preparing quick and easy sandwiches on gluten-free bread. He set the plate and paper towel napkin on the floor in front of me, along with a tall glass of water.

“The ice cubes turned to coagulated coal dust again, so I’m afraid we’ll have to forgo those until I can replace the freezer,” he apologized.

“Thank you, Carlos,” I said, careful not to bump the plate with my knees as I readjusted myself. I was well accustomed to being on my knees for longer periods of time, but the tiled floor was harder than I was used to. Not uncomfortable; the solidness of the floor was actually proving to be very grounding for me.

Setting his own plate on the table, Carlos sat in the chair I was next to, picking up his notebook and holding it open with an elbow. I leaned my head against his knee as I ate, smiling when every so often he would reach down to run his fingers through my hair. My mouth was dry, and I drained my water glass before I’d even touched my sandwich. Carlos gave me a knowing smile and refilled my glass from the water jug on the table. I smiled and blinked up at him, wordlessly communicating my gratefulness that he monitored my needs. A twinge in my bladder reminded me that I had not only focused on my work for so long I had forgotten to eat, but I had also forgotten to take care of other bodily necessities.

“Carlos, may I use the bathroom?” I asked, tapping on Carlos’ knee. The question still gave me an excited chill; I had only asked him last week if I could ask permission for this. He had been slightly hesitant, which was why I hadn’t asked him in the beginning when we were just starting to negotiate power exchange. Carlos was a brilliant and beautiful scientist, but the scars and mental trauma given to him by Night Vale that marked him as a part of our town didn’t erase the squeamishness and restrictions around urination that just were not a part of Night Valean culture.

But, squeamish or not, he still agreed. Usually I got the same response: a softly signed “Of course, baby,” and one of those sweet, perfect smiles that made me melt a little bit (luckily, my skin had begun to expect this and now only slightly sagged at the edges for a moment). Sometimes he would swat at my ass when I walked by, but most of the time he remained entranced in whatever science experiment he was researching.

“Not yet.”

The crook of his elbow was unmistakable. I had been so expecting permission that my legs were already tense, expecting to get up. I froze. Carlos returned to his notebook, but I saw the smile hinting at the corner of his mouth.

“Not yet?” I echoed. A cold, pleasant rush settled in my stomach and tightened the back of my throat.

He looked down at me over the rims of his glasses and nodded. “In a while baby, okay? Can you hold it, be good for me?”

My hands shot out of my lap as I stumbled over myself in my haste. “Yes Carlos, I can be good for you.”

“I know you can, you’re such a good boy,” he said. He leaned down and hooked his finger in the silver O-ring at the front of my collar, pulling me up to kiss me. Glowing under his praise, I smiled and leaned into the warmth of his kiss. I felt the rumble of Carlos’ laugh as he pulled back. “Is this what you want right now, baby?”

“Yes, you know it is. It’s in my contract.”

“I remember. I told you when we first drew them up that I wanted to discuss it later, that I wasn’t entirely comfortable.”

“We don’t have to play if you don’t want to,” I said, a familiar yet unwelcome feeling of embarrassment starting to burn in my chest. “It could just be permission; if watersports isn’t your thing we really don’t need to, I know it’s weird and kind of gross-”

Warm hands gently laid over mine, stilling my rambling. The feeling of Carlos’ soft lips on mine was a welcome distraction, and I nudged up into the kiss. After a moment, I felt myself relaxing again; Carlos must have felt it too, because he put a steadying hand on my collarbone and drew back.

“It isn’t weird or gross. Don’t say that about yourself, baby,” he said, his hands slow and rhythmic in a way that enchanted me, my eyes blind to everything but that which followed his precise, beautiful pattern. He grinned. “Remember, that’s my pet you’re talking about, and I do love my pet. I do want this, baby. I read over your contract last week, when you requested to ask permission for bathroom uses. Wanted to be sure this is something you liked. I am comfortable, baby.” He paused, prominent eyebrows furrowing slightly. “Unless you don’t want to right now, or at all. We can adjust the contract however you like.”

“No, Carlos, I do like this. I want this, I promise.” I smiled up at him. I hadn’t purposely avoided his questions, it wasn’t that I thought Carlos would be angry or disgusted; watersports hadn’t been on his hard limits list. I just wanted to please him. I was grateful that he’d had the foresight in the beginning of our dabbles into power exchange to have us exchange contracts. And I was especially grateful that I had mentioned how partial I was to bladder control and wetting, even though I had known Carlos wasn’t ready for it at that point.

“It’s okay baby, it’s all right,” he murmured, stroking my hair and cupping the back of my head. “You’re doing good, you’re such a good boy for me, aren’t you? Such a sweet, good boy.”

He picked up my glass and lifted it to my lips, tilting it carefully. As if he was reading my mind, he took the glass away when I started to feel the need to breathe. The water chilled my mouth, just on the edge of being too cold. When I’d had a moment, he nudged my lips open with the cold glass rim again, continuing to feed me until the cup was empty. After refilling it, he took hold of the O-ring on my collar again; I tilted my body back slightly, tightening his hold. His eyes flicked down to my throat and he smirked.

“Do you want your leash, pet?” he asked, gesturing to the hook on the kitchen wall where it hung, easily accessible for when we went out.

I nodded, pouting slightly when he released his hold and my collar loosened again. He brought the strip of soft leather over, one end looped around his wrist. Clipping the silver clasp onto the ring, he shortened the leash until I could sit back down on the kitchen floor without it being too tight.

“Good?” he asked, ensuring the movements of his hand wouldn’t accidentally choke me.

My mind too fogged by dazed warmth and security to articulate much, I nodded and rested my head on his knee, looping my arm around his leg as my other hand took the glass of water. I felt him lean down and press a kiss to the top of my head.

“You were up so late last night, will you take a nap for me? Sleep a little while I do some work?”

I was more than happy to agree, already losing myself to the fog in my head. I fell asleep to the hypnotic stroke of his hand through my hair, blunt fingernails scratching at the roots. Faintly, I was aware that I was still kneeling on the tiled floor, and my knees were not exactly happy about that, but it was such an abstract feeling, as if belonging to some other Cecil in some other Night Vale (which was entirely possible; partial emotion transfers were common in November).

I’m not sure how long I dozed on and off like that, kneeling at Carlos’ feet on the kitchen floor. My head was filled with fog. Not quite sleepy, just passive, happy. Every so often, I would come back into consciousness just long enough to take a few more swallows of water. Carlos was quick to refill it, always attentive to when I’d drained it. Before long, one thought permeated through the haze in my mind and I was unable to go back to sleep: I really, really need to piss.

My cock throbbed with it, my bladder swollen. My midsection twinged every time I moved, unhappy with the jostling. Trying not to alert Carlos to this, I wedged a foot under my legs, trying to stave off the urge that way. He wasn’t fooled.

“Baby? Need something?” he asked, feigning innocence. He hadn’t been coaxing me to drink all that water thoughtlessly.

“I really need to go, Carlos,” I admitted, shifting more of my weight onto the leg that was curled under me and the heel of my foot pressed harder against my dick. I’d never played this particular game with Carlos before, so I didn’t know how desperate he wanted me to be before he let me piss. If it was anything like his orgasm denials, this would be over sooner rather than later; my need was escalating rapidly as I ground my heel into my cock.

“I’ll bet you do; you haven’t pissed since this morning,” he said, still focusing most of his attention on his lab notebook, flicking his gaze back onto me every so often. After a pause, he glanced down and arched one thick eyebrow at me. “Unless, of course, you went earlier without asking permission?”

My hair flipped into my eyes as I shook my head violently. “No, Carlos, I didn’t. I wouldn’t.”

Right answer. He smiled, reaching down to flick the lock of silky black hair out of my face, stroking my jaw with the hand that had my leash looped around the wrist. “Of course you didn’t. You’re too good for me to do that, aren’t you? Oh, my poor baby, you must have to piss so badly, don’t you?”

As I confirmed his question with a shaking hand, a spasm shot down my spine and my cock jerked with the force of it. Before I could do anything to stop it, a quick spurt of piss escaped me. I was determined not to grab at my cock, wasn’t that desperate yet, so I clenched my fists and held them tight against my knees, rocking back and forth on the heel of my foot. I knew it wouldn’t be too long before I had a wet spot on the front of my jeans.

Carlos had been staring at me the entire time I had been struggling to regain control over my body. He licked his lips and I tracked the motion as if it was the only thing that mattered.

“Not yet baby,” he said, shifting to accommodate the growing tent in his pants. “You aren’t allowed to piss yet, understand?”

“I understand,” I said, grateful that the sign didn’t require my fist to relax that much. My fingernails bit into my palm, and I tried to focus on that instead of the maddening need to piss that was rapidly overtaking my mind.

“Good boy. Just a few more moments, all right?”

I involuntarily slammed my eyes shut as my hand flew to the front of my pants, grabbing my cock and squeezing as hard as I could. Even so I felt more piss, even more than last time, spray out, and the warmth told me that Carlos could definitely see it on my pants now. The idea only served to turn me on more, amp up the heat that pricked at every inch of my skin, a mixture of unbearably horny and unbearably desperate. Mouth open, I forced my eyes open and looked up at Carlos, begging.

“Carlos, please, please let me…” I felt tears of desperation prick at my eyes as I squashed my half-hard dick under my hand but I knew it wouldn’t be enough for long.

“All right baby,” Carlos crooned. He readjusted the chair so the back was against the table and lifted me into his lap, so I was straddling his waist. Unable to clench my thighs together, I felt my cock jerk as I had only my will to stop myself from pissing.

I grabbed my cock through my pants again, my free hand trembling, “Carlos, I can’t hold it!”

“Yes you can, it’s all right baby,” Carlos said. He pulled me closer so my cock ground against his stomach and I moaned so loudly I actually heard it (though I knew Carlos wouldn’t). The urge to piss was heavy and taut in my bladder, and I leaned my forehead on Carlos’ shoulder and gripped my leaking cock tighter.

Another quick burst of piss caught me by surprise, and my racing heart skipped a beat as I thrust my other hand down to try to stop it. My eyes shut as I tried my hardest not to just piss in Carlos’ lap right then. The near overflow barely lowered to desperation again and I tentatively took one hand away. When I opened my eyes, Carlos was staring at the even bigger wet patch in the front of my slacks.

“Careful, baby,” he crooned, smiling that beautiful, maddening smile. He ran a hand through my hair, damp with sweat. “Not until I say.”

“Ah! Carlos, please!” I hurriedly thrust my hips down, grinding my cock down against his thigh. I couldn’t disobey him now if I wanted to, but I could feel my cock throbbing harder than I could ever remember. I didn’t see his response, didn’t need to, just needed to piss but I couldn’t, not until Carlos said. I felt my throat vibrate in a whimper, biting and licking a love mark into Carlos’ neck as I humped his thigh. I was half hard, caught between wanting to cum and wanting to piss. I could feel Carlos’ hard cock under me and that just made it all the more urgent and I thrust harder.

I only stilled momentarily when I felt a quick tap on my shoulder.

“Are you okay, baby?” he asked, and my answering nod was more of a violent shake of my head.

“Please Carlos, I can’t hold it much longer… Oh god, Carlos, I’m gonna piss I can’t help it, please please please let me piss, Carlos…” I was practically sobbing, shivering with the force of it, aware that I was steadily leaking light yet insistent bursts of piss and precum. Carlos kissed me as he wrapped the leash around his wrist so there was practically no slack left.

“All right baby, you did so good, you can go now, let go for me.”

I felt his hand wrap over mine and pull it away from my cock. A sudden, thick stream of piss shot from my swollen cock, drenching my pants. I clung to Carlos, my face buried in his neck as I cried in relief, still riding the half-aroused jerk of my hips. He pulled my head up and kissed me hard and I could feel his moans vibrating through his mouth as I sucked desperately on his tongue, still pissing. The relief was almost as good as an orgasm, leaving me helpless to do anything but kiss Carlos and wet both of us.

My eyes shot open when I felt him lean me back a bit and I saw that his pants were as wet as mine. He fumbled with my pants and pulled out my cock, piss still streaming from the head. I shivered as I watched myself wet the bulge in the crotch of Carlos’ pants, piss splattering all over the tented material. The slacks were shiny and clung to the outline of his cock and I saw him moan, felt his hand tremble around my cock before I had to close my eyes.

“Oh Carlos, Carlos…” I was distantly aware I was mouthing his name as well as signing it, shaking with what felt like the aftermath of an incredible orgasm. Shivers ran up and down my spine and I could feel my breath hitching. Finally, my piss slowed to a slow trickle before a few last hard spurts shot directly onto Carlos’ dick, and I leaned my forehead against Carlos’, panting, somehow both exhausted and horny beyond belief. He was breathing hard too, cheeks flushed, and I realized that he had orgasmed from me pissing on his cock. In the aftermath of such intense relief, I only knew that I was completely hard now, needed to come as soon as possible, and was probably going to last three seconds.

“Come here baby, let me help you with that,” he crooned, wrapping a warm hand wet with my piss and his own cum around my cock. I squirmed and thrust up against him, the prickling hot arousal that had been building since Carlos had me sit by the chair finally overwhelming me. For the second time that night I felt the low vibration of a moan low in my throat and gasped as pleasure washed through me, my cock pulsing cum all over our chests. Carlos kissed me as he stroked me through it. I felt his breath fan across my cheek as he exhaled hard through his nose. Gentle, he captured my lower lip between his teeth and rubbed his thumb over the sensitive head of my cock. We started to slow down, still panting and shifting with satisfaction.

Beaming, Carlos cupped my face in his warm hands and, smearing a bit of cum on my cheek, kissed me, simultaneously unhooking my leash and letting it fall beside us.

“You did so good baby, so good,” Carlos said, and my chest swelled with pride. He stroked comforting circles with his thumb on my jaw and placed a soft kiss on my cheek. “You’re my good boy, aren’t you baby?”

“I’m yours,” I repeated, my eyes crinkling with how wide I was smiling. A chafing ache brought me slightly from my warm, dreamy subspace; I briefly realized it was my cock rubbing against the zipper of my pants. Streaked in piss and cum, it lay limp against the sopping wet material where Carlos had let it go. Carlos followed my gaze.

“I’m sorry baby, let’s get you cleaned up.”

He leaned forward and kissed me one more time and trailed his fingertips along my collar, hooking one finger around the silver O-ring and helping me to my feet. Still wearing my dazed smile, I let him loosen my pants and the irritation around my cock was gone, allowing me to settle right back to the lovely, calm mental state Carlos gave me to enjoy. He held my hand to help me balance and peeled the pants down, catching sight of my lacy purple panties I hadn’t been able to resist putting on that morning. A surprised, appreciative smile grew on his lips.

“For me, baby?” he asked, kissing the very top of the hem before pulling them off.

I nodded, stepping out of the wad of wet denim and lace. “I wanted to surprise you tonight. I guess that didn’t quite work out like I thought it would,” I added, smirking. He chuckled and stood up fully, unbuttoning my shirt and sliding it off my shoulders.

“It was a lovely surprise; thank you baby,” he said, kissing the corner of my lips. “Thank you so much, you were so, so good.”

I sighed, my eyelids feeling heavy all of a sudden, and yawned. “Could we take a nap, Carlos?” I asked, watching him with eyes I could feel were wider than usual and filled with clouds. That’s how I felt – surrounded by weightless, safe, cottony clouds.

“Wouldn’t want you to sleep like this, all dirty. You’ll wake up so uncomfortable. Let me run us a shower first?”

Nodding, I let Carlos lead me into the bathroom. I tried to help him undo his own wet clothes, but he gently pushed my hands away, saying it was all right, he could manage. The warm water cascading down my body felt so good, easing muscles that had been tense with desperation for what had felt like hours. But Carlos’ hands felt even better, rubbing a soapy cloth over my thighs and stomach, careful not to chafe. He stood close behind me, and though he was kissing my neck it wasn’t arousing, just nice. I closed my eyes and let him clean me up, every so often indulging in sweet kisses and soft caresses in between rinses.

Finally, he stopped the faucet and knelt, drying me off with a large, fluffy towel. He dried my hair in fast rubs, laughing and kissing me when it inevitably stuck out in every which direction. When we were mostly dry, he surprised me by lifting me off my feet with ease, grinning that haughty smile he wore when he knew I hadn’t been expecting whatever he’d just done. He carried me into our bedroom, taking care not to bump my head or feet into the doorway. After a quick rifle through messy drawers, he pulled one of his soft grey sleep shirts over my head. It was too big for me, they always were, but I knew Carlos loved seeing me in his clothes. He kissed my forehead and tucked me into our bed, fluffing our comforter around me.

“Are you okay if I leave for a moment, baby?” he asked, flicking a damp lock of hair out of my face. “I just need to clean up a bit, and I’ll come right back.”

“It’s okay Carlos, I’m fine,” I said, hazily wondering if I’d even still be awake by the time he got back.

As if reading my mind, he said “I’ll be quick, be right back before you have a chance to go to sleep. I promise.” Another quick kiss, and he slipped out of the room.

I sighed, pulling the covers higher up until only my nose stuck out, the warmth inside and out lulling me quickly into a daze. After a moment, I felt the familiar vibration of the washing machine, and then the thumps of footfalls I knew by heart as Carlos came back, holding a glass of water.

“Take a drink for me, will you baby?” he asked, sitting on the edge of the bed and offering me the glass. I blinked, a little wary and confused; he laughed and shook his head. “No more of that, baby, I promise. I just don’t want you to dehydrate yourself, you had quite an eventful afternoon.”

Agreeing, I sat up and took a few sips, the cool water refreshing against my tongue. I handed it back to him and he set it on the bedside table, scooting me over so he could lie next to me, a small space between our chests so we could talk but still be close.

“You’re such a good boy, Cecil,” he murmured. “I hope you know that. You did so well today, I’m very proud of you.”

I smiled, blinking sleepily. “Thank you so much, Carlos. I liked that.”

“I know you did, baby. Get some sleep now, okay?”

“Good night, Carlos,” I mumbled, my eyes half shut already. I turned around so he could press up against my back, arms curled around me and holding me tight.

Words signed mostly to himself, I felt bump across my back for a split second before I fell asleep.

“Good night, Cecil.”

Notes:

I haven't written fanfiction in years (since my Hetalia and Black Butler phase of four years ago), so I'm a tad rusty. But I had to give it a shot; D/s Cecil and Carlos with watersports kinks? Also, there's so far three watersports WTNV fics on this site? Unacceptable. Now there's four.

Also, the People-Who-Don’t-Fit-Into-Socially-Constructed-Categories-Of-Gender-But-Who-Still-Feel-A-Sense-Of-Civic-Responsibility Scouts are totally my headcanon for nonbinary Night Valeans. Of course, Cecil would be their Scout Master (and Janice is totally a Blood Scout).