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it's a dirty job

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Cecil is standing in the kitchen; it's a perfectly ordinary afternoon, and Cecil is off work. He's not doing anything particularly interesting, just putting away the clean dishes. Washing the dishes is a chore that he doesn't hate and doesn't enjoy, but one that has to get done before the plates become sentient, something that tends to happen sooner rather than later with Night Vale cuisine.

He looks over his shoulder as Carlos walks in, his heart giving its usual metaphorical flutter at the sight of his beautiful Carlos. Carlos walks up behind him, putting his hands on the edge of the counter on either side of his hips, kissing the back of Cecil's neck.

Cecil turns in his arms; Carlos is smiling at him, but it's sort of an odd, hungry smile. "I'm afraid I'm busy, my darling Carlos," Cecil says, kissing him on the cheek. He makes to turn around, go back to the dishes, but Carlos doesn't let him go. He pins Cecil to the counter by his hips, pushing him just hard enough that the edge of the counter bites into his ass.

"You always have time for me, don't you?" Carlos says. "Come on, Cecil. I know you want to."

"Not right now," Cecil says, avoiding Carlos's mouth as Carlos moves in to kiss him. Carlos doesn't let him get away with it, putting his fingers on Cecil's jaw and turning it back, forcing him to hold still.

"Right now," Carlos says, his voice deep and dangerous.

"I don't want to, Carlos," Cecil says, as Carlos unbuckles Cecil's belt, pushing his pants and boxers down. Cecil doesn't fight him, not physically. Carlos is only perhaps half an inch taller than him, but he seems so much bigger than that right now. Besides, Cecil isn't any good at fighting, far more used to using his words than his fists.

Carlos pushes at him until he turns around, and Cecil jumps when Carlos runs a hand over his ass. He puts his other hand on Cecil's throat, pulling him towards him and kissing his shoulder, and Cecil swallows. "Relax," Carlos says softly, putting his hand on the back of Cecil's neck and pushing him down, bending him over the counter.

The kitchen counter smells of the vinegar and lemon cleaning spray that Carlos makes. It's usually light and comforting, but now it's filling Cecil's nose with its bitter scent; the clean surface makes it hard to get a grip, makes his fingertips squeak across it. Still, he's not particularly uncomfortable, and Carlos isn't mean about it. He doesn't do it any more harshly than he does when he's not forcing Cecil. Carlos likes it a little rough, and though Cecil is secretly among the minority in the town that feels pain, he generally enjoys that.

Carlos uses plenty of lube and takes the time to open Cecil up for him, even if he is a bit too clinical and precise about it. Cecil hears him unzipping, and then the head of Carlos's cock is pressing inside of him. Cecil groans as he pushes in, slow and inexorable, making Cecil take his entire length at once.

Carlos puts a hand between Cecil's shoulder blades, holding him down as he starts to fuck him. "It's so good," Carlos tells him. "You feel so good, Cecil, just right for me."

Cecil bites his lip as Carlos works his hips, giving it to him hard and deep. His body is betraying him, apparently uncaring whether he had any say in it or not; it feels good, so good, Carlos's cock moving in him like that. "Don't do this," Cecil says anyway, even as his back arches. "Please don't do this."

"You don't have to be ashamed of wanting it, Cecil," Carlos says, kissing his neck. "You just have to admit it."

"I don't," Cecil pants. "Please stop, I don't-"

"This says you do," Carlos says, cupping his hand over Cecil's cock. "This tells me everything I need to know. It's empirically true that you want me to do this."

"I don't want to argue with science, Carlos, but-" Cecil starts.

"Then don't," Carlos says, taking the decorative tea towel off its hanger and pushing it into Cecil's mouth. Cecil bites down on it as Carlos pushes into him harder, driving him forward against the counter, making him want more. "Beautiful Cecil," he says, running a hand through Cecil's hair as the other one curls around his hip. "Lovely Cecil, you never let me tell you how perfect you are. You're so amazing, so good for me." Carlos laughs, his voice dark. "I hope you don't mind my saying that you're at your best when you're taking my cock. I mean that in the nicest possible way."

Nice isn't at all how Cecil would characterize any of this. He's glad for the towel, because even with it gagging him he's loud, making noises that he can't control as Carlos fucks him. He's just so good at it, knowing exactly how Cecil wants it, exactly what to do to drive Cecil completely wild. He might be doing this just because he wants to use Cecil, but Cecil honestly can't tell the difference from when he does it out of love.

"I know you want to come, Cecil," Carlos says, thrusting into him faster. "You want to come all over yourself for me. That's how bad you want this." Cecil shakes his head rapidly, but Carlos doesn't stop. He gets his hand around Cecil's cock again, working it quickly as he moves, deep and hard and just right and Cecil comes, not even caring, in that moment, if he's just proven Carlos right.

"Fuck," Carlos says, his fingers going tight on Cecil's hip. "Fuck, Cecil, you're so good, I can't- take it, Cecil-"

In between one breath and the next he comes, and Cecil can feel it inside of him, the way his cock pulses, the wetness of it. It's disgusting and it makes Cecil's dick twitch, the dirtiness of it, the feeling of being marked somehow so appealing. Carlos bends forward, draping himself over Cecil's back, kissing him right where his neck meets his shoulder, biting just enough that Cecil knows he'll have a mark, proof of what Carlos has done to him.

Carlos carefully pulls out of him, leaving Cecil feeling bereft and a little sticky. Cecil takes the tea towel out of his mouth and offers it to him; Carlos laughs, reaching for the paper towels instead. He cleans up, tossing the paper towels into the trash before he reaches for Cecil again. Cecil straightens up, turning around to face him.

"I didn't think you'd do it," Cecil says, putting his arms around Carlos's neck and pecking him on the lips.

"It was hard," Carlos admits. "I never want to hurt you, Cecil."

"You certainly didn't hurt me," Cecil replies, hugging him tight for a moment. "Definitely the opposite."

"I just didn't know how serious you were about it," Carlos says.

"I am very serious about it," Cecil says, frowning. "The idea is too exciting, my sweet, gorgeous Carlos, that you could want me that much, that being yours whenever you want me is so much more important than anything else. Don't you understand that?"

"Not really," Carlos says. "But I suppose it isn't exactly onerous to have sex with you whenever I want."

"That's the spirit," Cecil says brightly. He pulls up his pants and boxers, zipping up and buckling his belt. "Now, will you help me with the dishes? You are taller than me after all, and I worry about the top shelf."

"Half an inch," Carlos tells him. He looks down. "Also I don't think you want me touching the dishes right now."

Cecil kisses him. "Wash your hands and get the stepladder."

"Can do," Carlos says, reaching for the tap.