Mid-December Dessert
title: Mid-December Dessert author: Chapscher rating: T relationships: Cecil/Earl, Carlos/Earl, Cecil/Carlos, Cecil/ Earl/Carlos tags: sex to follow, earl harlan dinner party, kitchen moments, drinking summary: After a quiet Earl Harlan dinner party Cecil has a proposition for the chef. for @longhairshortfuse (sorry about the delay) ao3 link: (x)
It was a cold night and a chilling wind swept across the city of Night Vale, scattering sand and dead grass across the streets. Even the government spies watching every citizen hid from the mid-December air, wrapped in blankets in the back of their unmarked vans. From a nearby house, the porch light clicked on and flooded the evening desert darkness with soft golden light. There was a rustling of jackets and gloves from the other side of the Harlan residence’s front door before it slowly opened.
“Thanks again for dinner,” Abby called out behind her as she stepped onto the porch, Rodger by her side with a small suitcase and a sleeping bag.
“Anytime,” Earl said, pulling Rodger back into the house and wrapping a scarf around him a few times. “And take some dessert back to Janice. It’s too bad that the girl scouts scheduled their dinner tonight, but I know what they arrange is literally set in stone.” He balanced a Tupperware container on the sleeping bag. “You have fun, Rodger. Finish up your homework first, then games.”
“It’s already done,” Rodger mumbled into his scarf as he stepped onto the front porch again.
Steve pulled his hat’s earflaps down and slapped Earl heartily on the back. “Don’t worry about a thing, Earl. Rodger and Janice both know that school comes first.”
“He's allergic to strawberries,” Earl said as Rodger followed Abby into the car. “And if he sleepwalks can either you or Abby follow him on his route across town? I know it’s a lot to ask, but I don’t want him to get hurt. Or too cold.”
“It's no problem at all, Chef Harlan,” Steve said with a laugh that made Cecil visibly cringe from across the room. “There's no school tomorrow, so he and Janice will probably be up all night playing video games anyways. But we’ll keep an eye out for Rodger if anything like that happens. And don’t worry – not a single strawberry will get within 20 yards of my house while Rodger’s there.”
Earl thanked Steve and lingered at the door as Abby and her husband helped Rodger gather all of his things into the back seat. The boy glanced back at the house and raised his hand in a half-hearted wave. Earl gave a small wave back, his own grey fingertips turning transparent for a moment before he let his hand rest at his side. A cold breeze pushed against Earl as Steve’s tan Corolla drove off and disappeared at the end of a long street. It wasn’t until Earl heard the kitchen faucet running that he turned around and shut the door behind him. Cecil had collected the dishes into piles and was briskly carrying them all into the kitchen. Earl cleared his throat as Cecil started moving the candlesticks from the table to the nearby mantle.
“You two don’t have to do this.”
“We want to thank you for such a delicious meal, Earl. You've done enough work for today. This is the least we can do. Carlos even thinks that washing dishes is relaxing, so this is fun for him.”
“I suppose I could use a breather,” Earl said as he moved the salt, pepper, and nutmeg shakers off the table and folded the tablecloth. “But really, even with all this, I don’t feel like I have fully repaid you for what you did for Rodger and me this Thanksgiving.”
“You don’t have to-”
“I mean it, Cecil. You opened your home and really brought us into your family that night.”
“Earl? Are you crying?”
Earl paused in his clean-up to rub his eyes. They were wet. “It reminds me of when we were Rodger's age, I guess. When I really only had the scouts and Scoutmaster. Sometimes you and Abby would invite me over like I was family and we would spend long weekends together.”
“Well, it wouldn’t have really been Independence Day or Thanksgiving or Winter Halloween without you.”
“Cecil, I... erm...” Earl's arms were full of fabric and memories of food when Cecil stepped in close to him. The cloth passed between them and their hands brushed against each other. “I'm glad that we got back in touch. It's been a long time, but no matter what passed between us, I have always valued your company.”
“It's a pleasure, Earl.”
Their eyes locked and Earl was backed up against the couch. Hands gently taking the chef's wrists, Cecil pulled him close and pressed his lips gently against Earl’s. They were both still, neither moving to deepen or break the kiss. Cecil felt Earl’s pulse begin to race and he pulled away. The kitchen faucet was still running.
“I'm sorry,” Cecil said as he took a quick little step back. “I should have asked first.”
“You’ve never needed to ask me, Cecil.”
The tablecloth fell into a tidy pile at their feet as Cecil guided Earl onto the couch. They clasped each other’s hands and Cecil closed the distance between their mouths again, the kiss fuller this time. Cecil’s eyes drifted closed, but Earl's focused on the bright light from the kitchen.
“We should stop,” Earl whispered, pulling back but not turning away. “Carlos might see this.”
“Carlos and I have been talking,” Cecil said, sitting back against the couch cushions. “Everything’s fine,” he said to Earl's look of concern. “We just would like to know if you want to join us.”
“Join you? As in...”
“For the night. For a few nights. For something more. We could start with one night and see how it goes.”
“Wait, are you asking for a... for a threesome?”
“Yes.”
Earl cleared his throat and nodded thoughtfully. He ran his thumb along the side of Cecil’s hand, tracing warm skim. “I’m not sure. Part of me wants to. Most of me wants to. But... I’m not sure.”
“Is there something specific you’re not sure about or is it a bit of everything? If it’s the logistics of it don't worry, I have already plotted several potential courses of action. And in great detail. I already told Carlos. He was impressed and started drawing up charts.”
Earl swallowed hard. It had been years, maybe even a century since he had last been with Cecil in this way. Cecil was his first. A cold night in the desert. Hands grasping at clothing in the small confines of the tent.
“I want to know if I'm a one-night stand for you two. I mean, does this mean anything?”
“Of course it means something, Earl. I'd love to get involved with you like this. And Carlos thinks you’re very attractive.”
“But is it just sex, Cecil? Because I’ve been there. Having men just there for sex. And that was fine, I suppose. I wasn’t exactly happy, but it was fine. But I'm a father now and that's not the kind of lifestyle – the kind of relationships – that I want to go back to. I can’t have life at that pace anymore.”
“If you want date someone you can date Carlos and me. The three of us could spend some time together. You and Carlos could get to know each other.”
Earl took a deep breath and gave Cecil a sad smile. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too, Earl.” He took Earl’s hand in his and bowed his head to kiss warm scarred skin. “Go tell Carlos. I’ll put your living and dining rooms back together.”
The chef nodded, taking a moment to squeeze Cecil’s hand before he got to his feet and stepped into the bright kitchen. Every scent from dinner and a distinct warmth hung in the air. Around the table and in the living room it had dissipated and only remained on the bottom of serving bowls. But here it was overwhelming and the initial nervousness immediately dissipated as he stood by the oven and watched Carlos clean the wine glasses.
“Thanks for this,” Earl said, not moving from his familiar position just yet. “I know when you volunteered to do this you were probably thinking that the dishwasher worked. You don’t have to do all of it.”
“Oh it’s alright, Earl. We don’t even have one, so I didn’t even think about that. I just wanted to make light work for you.”
“I appreciate it.”
Carlos turned around and leaned back against the counter, wiping his wet hands on his slacks. The two of them stood in silence for a long moment, each waiting for the other to speak. Carlos drummed his fingertips on the rim of the sink, pausing as something caught his eye across the kitchen.
“Are you a mixologist too?”
“Pardon?”
Carlos grabbed something out of the drying rack, crossed the kitchen, stood on his toes, and took a red bottle down from the top shelf. “You have grenadine.”
“Oh, I use that for the hummingbird feeder.”
“I’m gonna make you a shot,” he said as the shot glass met the counter with a sharp clack. “A very scientific shot so I’m more than qualified to do it. I call it ‘The Jellyfish’ but Cecil calls it ‘The Reaching Viscera and Memories of Misplaced Existence.’ He’s so creative. I love it when he does things like that.”
Earl watched as Carlos took crème de cacao and a liqueur out of the cabinet and grabbed the nearly empty bottle of Irish cream that had only made it halfway across the kitchen towards the recycling bin.
“The ice cream you made with this was delicious, by the way.”
“Thank you.”
Carlos poured the liquor into the shot glasses; between bottles glancing up at Earl to make sure he was watching. With a steady hand he tipped the bottle of grenadine and let exactly three drops fall into the shot glass. Straight white teeth showing, he lifted the drink to Earl’s eye-level. Inside he saw what looked like a tiny red jellyfish with its tendrils reaching towards the rim of the glass.
“See? The densities of the liqueur and the cream and the syrup lets the jellyfish tentacles stay like that as long as it’s not disturbed.”
Earl nodded. “That’s clever.”
“That’s science. And you can drink it,” Carlos said. He handed the jellyfish shot to Earl, who hesitated for only a moment before tilting his head back and downing the beverage. “You know Earl,” he continued, watching the other man finish swallowing. “It's very scientific, I think. Our relationship.”
“Oh?”
“I mean, there's a lot of chemistry between us.”
Earl coughed and shook his head, unable to hide the slight smile that radiated from his eyes. “You're quite proud of yourself aren't you?”
“I was practicing it in the car on the way here.”
Carlos took the empty glass from Earl's hand and closed the distance between their lips. Lightly trembling, Earl let him take control and pull him away from the counter. Carlos wrapped his arms around him, hands gently caressing his back and slipping under his shirt. A moan slipped out of each of them in turn.
“Just tell me if I'm going too fast, Earl.”
“This is fine.”
Earl reached up and ran his fingers through Carlos’ thick black hair. He gripped tight and brought him into another kiss, deeper this time. Cold hands rubbed against Earl’s lower back and over warm skin.
“I love it when you two get along.”
Earl startled out of the kiss but Carlos kept holding him close. Cecil was standing in the doorway with his arms crossed, watching them with a masterful smile.
“Earl,” Cecil continued as he stepped into the kitchen. “Could you please get the bedroom ready? Carlos and I will be up in a moment.”
Earl nodded in agreement and slipped out of Carlos’ arms, an unmistakable blush crossing his cheeks as he passed Cecil. The two men stood in the kitchen as they listened to Earl’s footsteps lead up the stairs and down the hall.
Cecil giggled.
Adjusting his glasses, Carlos said, “You’ve been talking about this so often that I’m surprised you never let it slip while on the air.”
“Well, I am a very serious journalist.” Cecil leaned in and pecked Carlos on the cheek. “Besides, you said that you wanted some things to be just between us. Things like this.”
Carlos returned the kiss before turning Cecil around so he could kiss along the back of his neck and nuzzle his shoulder. “Not to mention that Station Management doesn’t like it when you talk about your sex life. Love life: okay. Sex life: no. Maybe you can get some after-hours thing. Maybe a podcast! We can ask Michelle and Maureen to help us out. I can set up a little recording studio with dials and numbers and Erlenmeyer flasks and-”
“Honey?”
“Hmm?”
“Do you like Earl?”
Carlos paused in his nuzzling and thought for a moment. “Yes. I can’t say that I know him very well, but I like what I have seen so far. And I do trust your judgment. Plus, he was here for you last year when we were apart. You sounded like you really needed a friend then and I’m glad that he stepped up.”
Cecil turned in Carlos’ arms and kissed him again. “Good.” Another kiss. “Then we probably shouldn’t keep him waiting any longer.”
Carlos watched as Cecil squirmed out of his embrace and nudged him towards the doorway. He took a deep breath and, after turning off the stove and setting the shot glass into the sink, followed his boyfriend out of the kitchen and across the house to a welcoming bedroom.
