#poly cecilos readershot

[wtnvwritings]

Forgotten Lunches

AO3 Version

Relationship: Cecil/Siren!Reader/Carlos

Rating: General

Wordcount: 2.4k

Summary:  You, Cecil and Carlos are in a happy, loving relationship together. This is just a view into one day of your lives, a day where both of your boyfriends have forgotten their lunch at home--so you decide to bring it to them.

Note: Totally used the headcanon by @welcometonvheadcanons​ on how Cecil signs his text messages--I think it's adorable!

Click here for more information about the siren race

It comes as no surprise when it’s revealed that both Carlos and Cecil have left their lunch at home. When you stepped into the kitchen, half-dressed and still groggy with sleep, fate seemed more than happy to answer the question of ‘what will I do today?’ with a very simple answer.

Deliver the lunches of your forgetful boyfriends, of course. You can’t call yourself surprised, considering that not one, but both of them got up late for their respective jobs, tossed on clothes and tried to hurry their morning routine to but a fraction of what they’d normally give themselves.

For Cecil, it was a quick dash to the bathroom, a throwing-on of clothes and a very quick peck to yours and Carlos’ cheeks before he dashed like a breeze of cold wind out the door.

For Carlos, he was at least a little more calm, even while hurried--he had looser hours to his job in the research facility, after all, so the two of you were able to enjoy a joke or two at the expense of both of your lover. Still, he got ready and left before you could remind him to grab his lunch, the food you’d made for both of them the night prior.

What were the odds for the alarms for both of them failing to go off?

Not entirely impossible, as the morning itself would have.

You eye up the two neatly-wrapped lunches, only briefly considering if you were lazy enough to simply text both of them to come home on their break. The thought came, settled in your thoughts for a few seconds, and then you gently pushed them away in favor of being a more-or-less good person.

Besides, you haven’t had a chance to walk around town without the need of research on your back--a couple days off work has been sorely needed.

You ready yourself slowly, glamour forgone in choice of feeling the space and universe around you in your truest form. It isn’t much different from being under the shade of human glamour of course, not physically, but there’s the mildest sensation of freedom that comes with not having to wear another layer of being.

And it’s nice to shapeshift at will, if only to reach an extra limb or two out around you to gather up your outfit for the day.

Since most of your clothes fit a human form, you keep such a shape--two arms, two legs and a single head utop your shoulders, a bit of hair atop that single head. It means at least that you get to pick out something to wear with ease. 

You pluck your way through the closet, passing over some of Cecil’s clothes with a soft smile on your face; though he’s quite comfortable in his human form and in human-shaped clothes, he is certainly not afraid of tailoring some outfits to match other forms with other shapes. You’re hoping that Cecil will one day feel more comfortable in his unglamored body, but that’s a personal issue for every siren to deal with on their own time and willingness--a life lived among humans can influence one’s sense of beauty and self-confidence quite a bit.

Just as you’re about ready to leave the apartment, you remember something important, and quickly grab the soft, thin cloak sitting on one of the hooks near the door. You pull it over your shoulders, the hood over your head, grab the forgotten lunches in a bag and make your way out the door.

 The sun is always bright and hot in Night Vale--on the days it decides to lift into the sky, that is. Some days don’t have a sun and that’s alright, not everyone can be so confident in the way they light up the lives of others.

Still, today is one such bright, hot, sun-filled day. Though it’s certainly nice to have a step-up of cape twirling around your body with every hot, desert breeze, it’s not exactly an accessory by choice. For whatever reason it is, trying to bare your unglamored skin to the sun of Night Vale for long periods of time leaves you feeling ill, struck with flu-like symptoms that last a day or so, depending on the level of exposure. 

It’s gotten better over time, and you are almost curious if it’s something specific to Night Vale’s sun, as opposed to the sun of other towns. You have yet the chance to ask Cecil, though you also wonder if he would know anything himself; again, he doesn’t tend to tend to exist outside his glamour very often.

An interesting thought, nevertheless. Maybe Carlos would like to look into such a curiosity, if he has the time between all of his other experiments and questions...and other things that scientists do.

You catch a familiar face every now and again as you walk, cloak billowing behind you in vibrant color that looks so stark against the dark of your skin and form. You greet them always with a smile, even a soft chuckle when you explain why you’re out and about.

“My boyfriends left their lunches at home,” you’d say to each one who asks. “They were in such a hurry this morning!”

“It’s a good thing they have a partner like you, dear,” Old Woman Josie had said, surrounded on either side by her tall, heavenly friends, friends who were certainly not angels, but who definitely waved at you in a warm greeting. “Tell Carlos that I’ll be coming by the center later today--he’s been wanting to look at one of my old family relics.”

It doesn’t take too long to get to Carlos’ research center. Maybe ten, twenty minutes at most of a walk, though most of it is spent at intersections, waiting for the flashing lights of wilting lilies so you can safely cross from one side to another. It lets you get your thoughts in place at least, let them jumble about your mind until they have found a place to settle.

By the time you arrive at the center, the sun is high and hotter than before. You’re eager to get out of the sweltering air and into a slightly-less-sweltering building, if only so you can finally pull back the hood on the cloak and see a little bit better.

You catch the attention instantly of one of Carlos’ scientists on his team. She’s a young girl, a bit newer than the rest but with eyes that glitter like stars and a mind as sharp as a knife.

“Hey Sammy,” you say pleasantly, gently raising the bag in your hands in a gesture. “Carlos forgot his lunch at home. Where’s he at right now?”

Sammy smiles in turn and gently points to one direction of the room--because the entire research facility is really just one big room, built using the foundations of the old Night Vale High School gym, which had been itself built before school officials realized that a gym shouldn’t be located several miles away from the school itself.

There’s some dividers separating the spaces claimed by several members of the team, but it’s still one large room filled with bustling scientists going about their daily experiments and research.

“He’s over by the table,” Sammy finally says. “You know, the one that’s not real?”

You can’t help but chuckle.

“The one that looks real but, by all accounts, is not?”

She echoes the soft noise of humor, the little joke between you staying just that before you step through the makeshift laboratory to find one of your two likely-hungry boyfriends.

Of course you find him by the table, an ordinary-looking table of four legs and mild detailing around the edges. He stands next to it, one hand on his chin and the other propped on his hip. His hair looks a little frazzled, as if he’s recently run his fingers through it, but he otherwise doesn’t look half-starved.

“Hey,” You say, gently pulling his attention away from the non-existent piece of furniture. “You left something at home this morning.”

It takes a moment before Carlos finally turns to look at you, recognition slowly dawning over his features where there was focused annoyance. You see his eyes light up behind the safety goggles over them, and he takes a few steps close to you.

You lift his lunch from the bag, carefully wrapped in decorative cloth, and handed it to him.

“You were in quite a hurry,” you say, gently teasing. “I don’t know how you and Cecil slept past your alarms.”

Carlos chuckles sheepishly, setting the wrapped box onto a nearby desk.

“It might have something to do with how late we were up last night,” You can almost feel a gentle warmth over Carlos’ cheeks as he speaks, not entirely meeting your eyes for a few moments. “I should have gone to bed earlier, but you sound so pretty when you sing like that.”

“Carlos!” 

The reprimand is hardly firm, hardly with any edge--it’s said with a half-hidden smile behind your hand and a little blossom of warmth in your chest. It brings forth a flicker of memory from the night before and, oh yes, the three of you were up far, far later than normal.

Carlos takes a moment to adjust himself, gently pull at the buttons of his un-buttoned lab coat.

“I assume Cecil forgot his too?”

You nod gently.

“I’m planning on delivering it to him,” You feel a mild annoyance at the back of your words, but nothing that you try to hide from Carlos. “I don’t look forward to going back into the sun, it’s really hot out today.”

“Oh I know,” Carlos agrees quickly. “The sun was really loud this morning too--I had such a hard time focusing on the results from my tests.” 

He sighs, and a moment passes between the two of you. It’s a moment of gentle familiarity, a moment that doesn’t inherently need to be filled with sound or words--it’s just a moment to let the topic of conversation flow and ebb as it needs.

After another couple breaths, Carlos perks up, looking at you in mild curiosity.

“Why don’t you see if Cecil can just come here for his lunch? You won’t have to walk anywhere--I don’t want you getting sick from the exposure.”

The words make you feel warm inside. Carlos knows very little about sirens, he hasn’t had much time to ask the sort of questions and in the level of detail he likes, but it’s obvious he’s made the effort to remember what little details he’s able to pick up from observations and conversational snippets. It means a lot to you and, honestly, he presents a rather nice idea.

“I can text him, I bet he’s probably hungry by now anyway.”

You set down the other wrapped box beside Carlos’ before shuffling up beside him, phone in one hand and a smile on your face, the unspoken gesture to get a picture of the two of you to send to your mutual partner.

Carlos doesn’t respond at first, so you start to wrap your arm around his shoulders-

-but quickly retract it when you feel him flinch against your touch. It surprises you more than worries you, bright eyes blinking against the shadowy backdrop of your face and realization slowly dawning over your thoughts.

“Bad touch day?” Is all you need to say, to ask in careful and loving communication.

Carlos mulls over the question and eventually nods, as if he was reluctant to tell you. It’s not uncommon for him to try and push his boundaries on comfort, especially on the days he can’t even stand to be brushed against, but you’re slowly learning to pick up the queues to help him communicate those little things better with you (Cecil has long-since learned of Carlos’ many nonverbals).

You offer him a comforting smile and situate yourself to stand beside him, far enough not to press against his shoulder, but close enough that you’re able to get both of you in the frame (though it does help that you can extend your reach farther than most non-amorphous beings). You snap the picture and quickly send it off with a couple ot teasing messages.

[11:46 a.m.] You: I think a certain radio host left his lunch at home this morning 🤔

[11:47 a.m.] You: If you want it, you’ll have to come visit your two favorite people before we eat it up ourselves ;P

[11:47 a.m.] You: [Photo attached]

You and Carlos find an empty table (one that actually exists) and a couple chairs to settle yourself down. By the time that you do, you feel the vibration of your phone and glance over the message sent in response.

[11:49 a.m.] Cecil: I’ve been starving since I left the apartment, it appears one cannot live off coffee alone. Sincerely, Cecil.

[11:49 a.m.] Cecil: Also, you’re both looking beautiful and perfect. I like how you shifted your hair today. Sincerely, Cecil. 

[11:49 a.m.] Cecil: Give Carlos a kiss for me, I’ll be there soon! Sincerely, Cecil. 

You smile and relay the messages to Carlos, who’s face lights up with warmth in return. With a great care, you lean across the table and lay a gentle peck of lips over his cheek, then sit back into your chair, chin lightly pressed over your palms.

"Old Woman Josie told me she’ll  be stopping by later today,” Your words relay the message the woman had told you earlier. “Something about old relics you wanted to look over?”

Carlos all but blooms in excitement, the emotion unfiltered and absolutely beautiful over his face. It’s almost contagious to see him like this, surrounded by the things he loves and so ready to start babbling off about them at any given moment. He’s waiting for words though, a verbal confirmation that you want to hear his excitement as much as he’s yearning to talk about it.

“So,” You finally say, a smile on your lips, focus entirely on your partner. “Tell me about them.”

And so the air of that section of the laboratory is filled with the soft, energetic sound of Carlos’ voice as he explains just that, the two of you sitting together as couples do, waiting peacefully for the third member of your relationship so all of you can enjoy lunch together.

You couldn’t ask for better mates than Carlos and Cecil.

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