Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Tenna needed something new. Something fresh. Something that sparkled beautifully under the light of the stage. Something that would take the audience's breath away.

He was not going to find that at the bottom of his whiskey.

He threw back another shot, silently wincing at the burn down his throat. He'd never been a fan of straight liquor, he mostly drank fine wine when he was trying to have a good time. But he wasn't. Not tonight, at least. Tonight, he was trying to make himself think. He thought best when he was drunk, or at least a little tipsy.

He glared down at the pristine wooden table of the bar. Sleek, polished, reflecting. He saw himself staring back at him, a tight frown on his face, his screen just a little bit too dim.

What could he do? The ratings were only going further down, and Tenna couldn't keep up. He tried to scramble, to find anything close at hand to help. Rewriting scripts, being more eccentric, more colors, more lights, more sounds! But, nothing helped. The audience was simply getting tired of the same old song and dance.

Song and dance? Tenna could host a music event!

He smiled, then brought out his small, pocket-sized notepad and jotted down a few notes. He wasn't sure of who he would get for that, but he was desperate to make anything work.

He got another refill. Straight whiskey. No ice. A few ounces right into his glass, then directly down his throat. He laid his head in his hands.

What if he hosted a live event? Rented out a space, held a panel, let the audience ask him questions and such. They'd be able to see Mr. Ant Tenna up close! In the robotic flesh! It wasn't like they loved him any less, right? They were still his loyal audience. They were just... bored.

Bored. Tenna frowned again, pursing his lips into a tight, angry line.

He couldn't even remember how long he'd been doing TV Time. Countless talk shows, game shows, weather reports. He had lost track of all of them. But at the same time, he remembered each one vividly. How the audience laughed at his jokes, screaming encouragement at the contestants, having the best time. Tenna missed that. He missed looking into the crowd before him and seeing wide, bright smiles, hearing loud billows of laughter. He wanted it back.

Now, all he could focus on when he looked into the crowd was the steadily growing number of empty seats. It had started with one. A fluke, right? Then it turned into two, then five, then more than ten. Less and less tickets were being bought. Less and less people wanted to see him. He was fading. He wasn't relevant anymore.

Tenna shrank down about a foot as he continued to think. He took shot after shot of whiskey, quickly losing track as he just kept on drinking. He was going to lose his mind. He was going to lose the show. Empty seats. Empty studio. Empty heart. Tenna felt like crying. He felt like curling into a ball on the floor and sobbing.

But, he didn't. Because, from across the bar, he heard it. Loud confidence, hearty laughter, and a smooth charisma unlike anything he'd ever witnessed before.

Tenna's head shot up, and he nearly vomited from how dizzy that motion made him. He looked towards where that voice was coming from.

There, leaning easily on the bar, was a man. His eyes were crinkled with laughter and delight. He was chatting with someone else, but they didn't matter. All Tenna could focus on was this man. The way his arm flourished as he drank his whiskey, nodding along to whatever his conversation partner was saying. How easily he drew the attention to himself. People from all over the bar sent him interested glances, their eyebrows raised, intrigued. Not many approached him, but they clearly wanted to.

His cheeks were rosy, his face curtained by a mop of fluffy black hair. He was dressed somewhat casually, but in a way that made people stop and stare. A deep red v-neck button down, exposing a good amount of his cleavage. Tenna wasn't in his right mind, so he did steal a couple of glances. The sleeves were rolled up past his elbows, revealing an expensive watch and a couple of random bracelets. Tenna imagined his wrist jingled as he walked. He wore long black pants, held up by a smooth black belt. One hand was stuffed casually in his pocket. He stood with a knee popped out, leaning his hip on the bar. He threw his head back and laughed. The sound pierced through the alcohol-induced fog in his mind.

Who was this? Tenna needed to know. Tenna needed to know who this man was.

Then, the man shifted. He caught Tenna's stare. His eyes went wide for just a moment, but then he raised his glass in recognition. He drank a sip, not once breaking eye contact with Tenna.

Tenna felt himself grow antsy. But, looking deeper into this man's eyes, studying his face more directly, he did look familiar.

A billboard, just a few miles away from Tenna's studio. He'd seen that face multiple times. Wide grin, pearly white teeth, a big thumbs up.

Tenna's breath caught in his throat. As the man turned back to his conversation partner, Tenna whipped out his notepad. He aggressively wrote this man's name, underlined it thrice, then stuffed the notepad back into his pocket.

He felt giddy. He felt excited.

This man, Spamton G. Spamton of Big Shot Autos, was a huge deal, especially in Cyber City. Tenna had once or twice driven past his car dealership to see what the commotion was. He wasn't really a car guy, but he could appreciate true craftsmanship once in a while. He didn't like sports cars, he was content with his modest-for-his-income car. But, the cars at Big Shot Autos had a special shine about them, and it almost made Tenna want to indulge and purchase one for himself. They were all extremely well taken care of. They sparkled in the sunlight. Smooth, pristine reds, absolutely beautiful leather interiors, every single detail was mulled over extensively. Spamton G. Spamton did not settle for anything less than perfect.

He was perfect.

He was exactly what Tenna needed. He needed his charm, his brand, he needed that smile on the big screen, and he needed it yesterday.

Before he could register what he was doing, Tenna was making his way over to Spamton. He barely snapped himself out of the trance by the time he reached him. He hoped he wasn't too drunk. Or stumbling. Angel above, please don't let him embarrass himself! Please, please, please, don't let him embarrass himself!

"Hey, mind if I buy you a drink?" Tenna offered, noticing that Spamton's glass was empty.

Spamton turned to face him, looking slightly startled. But, he settled into his calm and confident expression. The person he was talking to shuffled away, muttering something exasperated under their breath like, "That's Mr. Ant Tenna!"

Tenna paid no mind. Normally, he would have felt rude taking somebody else's conversation partner. But, the way that Spamton so easily transitioned to facing him, grinning up at him, talking to him. It made his heart flutter.

Tenna bought Spamton a drink. He watched as he held the glass to his lips, taking a small sip. His cheeks grew just a little more rosy. From the alcohol or proximity, Tenna could never be sure.

"So, what's the Big Shot himself doin' in a place like this?" Spamton said, leaning his elbows on the bar. "And what's his deal with little old me?"

Tenna flushed, clearly having not thought this far ahead. But, steeling his nerves, he started to speak, trying his best to match his suave and easy confidence. "Well, you demand attention. One single word, and the entire room molds to you. I'm wondering, how do you command that presence?"

Spamton laughed a little. "It's a curse, I tell you. I get fellas from all over the place tryna buy me drinks."

Tenna felt a rush of embarrassment. Maybe this wasn't a good idea. Maybe he fucked up. Maybe Spamton was trying to push him away, but being way too nice about it. "Can't imagine why," Tenna said, instead of taking the maybe-possibly hint. He tried to be casual, leaned his own elbows on the bar as he twirled his empty whiskey glass in his hand. He got a refill, a shot for confidence. "I'm Tenna." He stuck his hand out for a shake.

"I know," Spamton nodded as he drank. "I'm Spamton." He grasped onto Tenna's hand, the bracelets on his wrists jingling, just as he suspected. His grip was firm, his palms were warm and sweaty. His fingers lingered on Tenna for just a moment too long.

Tenna's heart fluttered again. He grinned. "I know."

Spamton set his glass down on the bar, now half-empty. His gaze shifted to Tenna, and his eyes softened a little. "Well, Mr. Ant Tenna. Why don't you tell me about yourself?"

Surprised, Tenna shook his head just a tiny bit, mostly to clear the bits of alcohol-induced fog. He couldn't remember the last time someone had asked about him. He actually couldn't remember the last time someone treated him like a normal person. Something about Spamton made his mind ease, his shoulders relax. "What do you want to know?"

"Like I said, what's brought you here? I've never seen you around. I never really suspected that bars would have been your thing." Spamton got himself another glass of whiskey.

He let himself relax. "I frequent bars on very rare occasions. Business parties, outings with clients, and such." He took a look around, seeing the more rustic atmosphere around him. "Normally, they're up in the city. More black, sleek. But, even less frequently, I try to find something small. Somewhere I won't be recognized all too much. Or, if they do, they don't care."

Spamton nodded along. "And does Mr. Ant Tenna like whiskey, or does he prefer something else?"

If Tenna had eyes, he would have blinked slowly at him, confused.

"You wince every time you take a drink," he explained, averting his gaze for just a moment.

Tenna smiled a little. How did he notice something so small? "Wine, actually."

Spamton almost snorted. "Classic, a man after my own heart." He brought the bartender over again, then bought Tenna a glass of wine. Top shelf. Something aromatic and fancy. "It's only fair I buy you one as well."

The glass was placed in front of him. Tenna felt like he was about to cry. Maybe he was too drunk for this. Maybe he should go home. Maybe he should curl in bed and sob until he felt better.

He lifted the glass to his lips, taking in a quick whiff. It was fruity, the smell stung his nose a little. As he drank, he felt all his inhibitions melt away. The spicy taste of the whiskey was replaced by something more flavorful, something he enjoyed. He wasn't drinking to get drunk anymore. He was drinking with company, for fun.

Spamton chuckled a little as Tenna tasted the wine, nodding and humming to himself in approval.

Tenna set the glass down. He felt rejuvenated, at least a little bit. "Why don't you tell me something about yourself, Mr. Spamton? Why cars?"

Spamton perked up. His smile widened a little before he got it under control. He tried to act nonchalant, but Tenna could feel the excitement radiating from him. "I've loved cars since I was a teenager. Working on them, driving them, figuring out how they work. I designed my own car, you see. Down to the last wire."

Tenna's mouth was agape for just a second. He hadn't known that. Spamton G. Spamton was hiding genius behind confidence?

Spamton continued. "I come from a family of business people. They all expected me to go into sales, you see. But, nah. Fuck that!" He laughed. "I poured my entire heart into the Cungadero. Built up my own business, got a spark of good luck, sold so many cars that I can't keep track! Every time I see one on the road, it's like passing by an old friend. And I'm seeing them more often. But I have never once seen them at my repair shop. That's quality. That's quality."

Tenna raised his glass to that. "So, cars mean something special to you?"

"Cars mean everything to me, Mr. Tenna," Spamton said. "I don't think there's a better sound than an engine gently purrin' to life." He chuckled a bit.

"Roar of the crowds," Tenna countered. His voice wavered just a little bit as he spoke. "Hundreds of people laughing with you. Cheering for you."

Spamton huffed a breath out of his nose, amused. "So. That's your everything, huh?"

Tenna felt his heart twist. Words started to bubble in his throat, held back only by his tongue, heavy in his mouth. Before he could reel himself in, he was already spilling his guts all over the place. "Listen, I... I've been struggling. With the show. Recently." Spamton's eyes flickered to him sympathetically. It only made Tenna want to cry even more. He tried to shut himself up, but once he started, he couldn't stop. "I've been looking for the one thing, the one thing to bring the ratings back up." He paused. He took in a deep breath. "And I think I've found it."

Spamton's gaze went from his glass of whiskey up to Tenna's face. "Is that so?"

Tenna gave himself one last chance, one last chance, to shut himself up. He couldn't. He was desperate. "I have a proposition for you."

Spamton reeled back, sucking in a breath. "I'm sorry, Mr. Tenna. I don't do those."

Tenna deflated. His hand found his glass of wine, tightened around it. "Would you do me a solid? Hear me out?"

Spamton ducked his head, stared into his whiskey for just a second. His eyes darted left and right, then he settled and looked back up to Tenna. "Go ahead."

"One night, one talk show," Tenna continued. His confidence wasn't necessarily boosted, he more felt like he needed to speak as quick as possible, get to the point as fast as possible, so Spamton wouldn't walk away. He needed him, he needed Spamton. "You come up on stage, dazzle the audience. I get some of my ratings, you get more reach for your cars."

Spamton thought for a moment. He worried his bottom lip between his teeth, sucking in another quick breath. "What's the catch?"

Tenna paused, confused. "There is no catch."

"There's always a catch," Spamton said. He didn't look Tenna in the face. He seemed anxious, a little nervous. Tenna could vaguely understand why. It wasn't often you get approached by a huge star in showbiz, trying to get you on their show. Tenna would have laughed at the silliness of it all if he wasn't desperate for retention.

"I'm not that kind of businessman," Tenna waved his hand dismissively. "But, maybe. If you wanted there to be a catch," he tried to joke, and it did make Spamton's chest flutter with a small chuckle. Using that to propel himself, Tenna finished. "If you like it, we could partner up. Be co-hosts."

Spamton raised an eyebrow. "Co-hosts?" Tenna nodded. "You just met me, Mr. Tenna."

"I have a feeling," Tenna finished his glass of wine. "A gut feeling. You're perfect for the stage, Spamton. I guarantee that the moment you hear those people cheer for you, you'll turn right around and beg me for a place on the show."

Spamton snorted. Then, he spent a couple of moments thinking. After another second of hesitation, he spoke. "You know what, Mr. Tenna? Sure." He stuck his hand out. "One night. One talk show."

Tenna's entire body lit up. He grew back to his original height, he had only lost a few inches, so not much, but the shift made Spamton blink in surprise. "Deal!" He firmly and enthusiastically shook Spamton's hand for the second time that night, his grin wide, bright, real.

Things were finally looking up, and Tenna could not be happier.

Chapter Text

The studio was lively for the first time in a long time. Tenna was at the helm, directing the Pippins to prepare the set properly, telling the Shadowguys to adjust the light fixtures, asking the Zappers to make sure the green room was cleaned and set up for their guest. He couldn't stop smiling. He was relaxed, at least somewhat. He wanted to impress Spamton, wanted him to walk into his studio and think, "Wow! I can't wait to be a co-host here!" 

Probably not those exact words, but Tenna didn't focus on that. He focused on smoothing down his suit, then he checked in with Mike. "Mike! What's the word? Is he here yet?"

"Not yet, Tenna," Mike responded in his ear. "I'll send him directly to the green room once he is. Don't be far."

"Got it," Tenna replied, then exhaled a deep breath and shook out his hands. He paced a little. Then more. Then his hand came up to his mouth and he bit his knuckles. What if Spamton didn't show? What if he was just pulling Tenna's leg at the bar? What if he was laughing at him behind his back, thinking nobody would ever be so stupid as to partner up with Mr. Ant Tenna, the failing showman?

Tenna shook himself out of it with a smack to his own face. He had faith in Spamton. He didn't seem like the kind of man to ditch without saying a word. He was considerate and kind. Tenna knew that much.

He stopped his pacing, then ran his hands down his face. He needed a drink.

No, he couldn't drink! He was about to go on stage!

But, he really needed a drink.

One wouldn't hurt, right?

He made his way to his office, gently closing the door behind him. He kept a small fridge in the corner. So, he grabbed a glass from a cabinet, then poured himself a small glass of wine. Just to take the edge off. He sat in his chair, leaning back, tilting his head up towards the ceiling. He breathed.

Everything would go great. He was sure of it.

He finished his glass of wine. His hands itched to pour another. He started to absentmindedly, then pushed those thoughts out of his mind. One drink. That was it. He placed the bottle of wine back into the fridge, and left the glass on his desk. He grabbed a copy of the script from his top drawer, and read through the standard list of questions. They all related to his job, of course. His ambitions, his goals, why he started his company.

But, Tenna wanted to know more. He wanted to know not just about Spamton's business and cars, but just about him as well. He felt like they'd hit it off pretty well at the bar. Although, he was drunk, so maybe he was remembering wrong, or hyping himself up too much. 

He couldn't shake the memory of Spamton's eyes. The way they glistened in the dim, rustic light of the bar. The way he smiled, the way he laughed.

Tenna wanted to smack himself again, just to snap himself out of the foggy memories. The words said were muffled, Tenna could barely remember putting one foot in front of the other to get to Spamton, but his eyes were always completely clear.

He read through the questions again. He did have them on notecards in his jacket pocket, but he liked the feeling of paper in his hands. He flipped the pages, letting the noise bring him back to reality. Then, a knock on his office door.

"Come in," he said, looking up from his papers to see a Pippins standing there. They waved him over without a word. "Got it. I'll be there in a minute."

Spamton was there. Tenna needed to pull himself together.

He left the papers on his desk, then walked down the long hallway to the green room. Spamton was sitting on the couch, happily chatting with Elnina and Lanino. They stood in front of him, most likely rambling about their pure, unfiltered love for one another. Spamton was listening and nodding along. Then, his eyes landed on Tenna. They squinted as he smiled, then he stood to greet him.

"Mr. Tenna! Glad to be here." He clasped his hand and shook it, still as firm and warm as Tenna remembered. "Your studio is very nice, very well-kept."

"Thank you! Glad you could make it. We'll be starting the filming shortly, if you wanted any refreshments beforehand." He gestured to the bar, where Ramb held up a hand in greeting. He was polishing some glasses. A pitcher of water and some small snacks were beside him at the table. 

Spamton nodded. "Thank you kindly." He went over and grabbed a glass, filled it with some water, then went back to Tenna and started to drink. "I'm not going to lie to you, Mr. Tenna. I've never been on a talk show before. Only time I've been on TV was for my ads."

"Just Tenna is alright," he responded, fixing his cuffs a little bit nervously. "Don't you worry. The stage has a way of helping you relax. You just need to be yourself! I have no doubt that you'll be great. The most important thing is to have fun."

Spamton chuckled a bit at that. "You've certainly got that down to a 't'. And if you're just Tenna, then just Spamton is alright with me."

"Noted," Tenna said. He glanced over at the door leading to the studio. A Zapper was there, holding a clipboard and speaking into a headset. 

Then, Tenna heard from his own, "Filming starts in five minutes."

"Thank you, Mike," Tenna replied. "We'll be on soon. Do you have any questions at all?"

"Not from me, Mr. Big Shot," Spamton grinned as he finished his glass of water. He took it back to the bar and set it down, then stretched his arms over his head. He wore a very neat suit. White slacks, black button down, with a black jacket over top. It was simple, but rather elegant as well. He fixed his sleeves, then looked to Tenna. "Lead the way."

"Excellent!" Tenna clapped his hands together, then headed towards the door leading to the stage. He held it open for Spamton, who thanked him and stepped inside.

The stage was nice and neatly set. There was a desk, neatly put together with some props. There were some pens, random papers, and whatnot. Then, next to the desk was a couch with an end table. Both surfaces had a water bottle, just in case. 

Tenna picked up a small mic from a table, then adjusted it to his lapel. "Here. Take one of these." He handed one to Spamton, who did the same. "Alright, so when we start filming, you'll be over there in the wings." He pointed to a spot behind the curtain, where a Zapper waved to them. "I'll do my intro. I'll introduce you, then you'll walk out and the crowds will go crazy for you. Just flash that smile of yours, and everything will fall into place."

Spamton looked around. "Where's the audience?"

Tenna pointed to the wall directly ahead of the stage. "They're behind that. Once we're ready to start, that whole thing disappears. Bit of uh, theater magic, one might say."

Spamton chuckled. "Alright, then." He took a good look around, taking in all the sights and sounds. He had to admit, he was a bit nervous. But, more excited than anything. He hadn't particularly wanted to be on television, but now that he got the chance, he found it exhilarating.

They walked up to the stage. Tenna got himself ready, sitting at his desk and adjusting the mic on his lapel. Spamton crossed over to where Tenna had pointed, and he stood next to a Zapper. He had a small idea of what to expect. He had watched a few segments of previous talk shows to get the gist of how Tenna acted, what kind of questions he asked, and such. He loved the idea of spending the next hour or so talking about his cars.

The lights in the studio started to dim. Then, the spotlights came on, bright and intimidating. Spamton shielded his eyes for a moment, then blinked a few times to get used to them. Spamton caught a glimpse of the wall disappearing, and the crowd instantly started cheering and clapping. He noticed a hefty amount of empty seats and frowned. When Tenna had said he was struggling, he didn't think it had been that bad. But now, Spamton realized just how much he needed this, how much he needed a change to the show. He felt a small twinge of sadness in his gut. He did like TV Time. He tuned in to the occasional episode, mostly the game shows. He would hate for it to fade away. 

He shook those thoughts away as Tenna prepared to begin.

Ever the showman, Tenna sat with his back facing the audience. Then, as soon as the lights were fully on him, he dramatically spun around in his chair. He started his introduction.

"Ladies, gentlemen, and all those in between," he smiled broadly at the audience. "Thank you for tuning into TV Time tonight. We have a very special guest that I cannot wait to introduce you to! You know him, you love him, you've seen his cars on the road. It's Spamton G. Spamton!"

Bringing a grin to his face, Spamton strolled onto the stage. He kept his walk casual, one hand in his pocket, the other waving to the audience. They roared for him, a couple of people screaming about how much they loved his cars. He winked and blew a kiss, twiddling his fingers towards them. He pointed to someone and waved directly to them. They fawned instantly, then excitedly shook the person next to them.

It was hard to hear over their cheers and claps. It died down eventually as he stood by Tenna's desk, quickly shaking his hand before sitting. "Thank you for having me, Mr. Tenna. I cannot tell you how much I appreciate this opportunity. Never seen the big screen before!" He laughed, and he felt himself relax. Tenna was right. The stage had a way of making him feel comfortable.

"And thank you for joining us tonight. I wanted to start with just some basic questions. We all know Big Shot Autos, don't we, folks?" Tenna looked between Spamton and the audience, and they yelled in response. "My first question is why? Why cars, Mr. Spamton?"

Spamton's heart fluttered a little. He leaned forward in his seat, letting his hands take on part of the story telling. "It started when I was real young. My family always told me, 'Spamton, get into sales! Kick your ass-' oh! Can I say ass?"

Tenna laughed. He sent a knowing look to the audience, who started to snicker. "Oh yeah. You can say ass."

Spamton shook away the confusion, realizing it must have been some kind of inside joke for the show. "Well, they told me, 'kick your ass into gear, sell some stuff, make some money!' But, you gotta understand. Growing up, being around sales your entire life, you get tired of it! So, I was around fifteen at the time I got my first job. Something simple. I worked at a car wash right next to a mechanic shop. I would poke my head in there before and after work, and just watch the mechanics doing their job. Eventually, one of them took notice. He asked if I liked cars, and I said, 'yes, Sir, I love cars.' He got me workin' on one, an old thing, barely ran. But he showed me how to change out parts, fix things too. Swapped tires, changed batteries, the whole shebang." He took a drink from his water bottle.

"Eventually," he continued. "I got to thinking. I wanted to start my own business as well, like my family did. But, not with selling clothes, or services, none of that. I wanted cars. So, I saved up my money from my job, and I got myself into college. Worked my ass off, too. I moved from the car wash to the mechanic shop. Got more hands-on experience." He gave a happy sigh, his smile shifting from performative to genuine. "I designed and built my own car. Took years of work and tinkering. But, I made it perfect." He grinned towards the audience. "And the rest is history."

They cheered for him, clapped at his story. He heard some thoughtful remarks from the older folks, he heard some scandalous remarks from the young adults. Something about wanting to see him sweaty and in a tank top. Spamton almost laughed at that.

"What an inspiring story," Tenna said. He was looking at Spamton with something akin to reverence, his smile soft. "Well, tell us more about the Cungadero."

"Gladly!" Spamton perked up once again. "State of the art, the quietest car you'll never hear. You see, other sports cars are loud and boisterous, and I don't know about you, but they piss me off. So, she's designed to purr to life, gently rumble under you, take the road like a hot knife through butter." He shuddered with delight as he thought about it, envisioned it. "She's built for luxury. Fine leather seats, sturdy interior. She's got surround sound, speakers in the back. Plenty of space in the trunk. Lots of leg room too, in both the front and backseats. She's pristine. She's perfect. But, I don't want only the wealthiest people out there to have her. She's for everyone. Anyone who could want her."

He looked towards the audience. "Well? How many of you got one? Huh? Let's see a show of hands."

A handful of people whooped and cheered, their hands high in the air. Spamton did finger guns in each of their directions, waving and winking and thanking. They swooned over his easy confidence, his smooth transitions, the way he greeted them personally. "And I bet she makes ya real happy, huh!" 

He received more cheers, not just from the people who owned his cars, though. The audience catered to him, moved with him. He talked, they listened. It was as simple as that. 

He cracked some jokes with Tenna, getting laughs and claps. He lit up the stage, brighter than the spotlights ever could. He chatted more with Tenna, the conversation breezing past, like they'd been close friends for years. Despite Spamton's nerves about being on camera for the first time, it was easy to talk to each other. Spamton always had something witty to say, always had a joke up his sleeve. He caught on quick, shifted with the stage as it ebbed and flowed. He didn't stumble, not even once.

Before they knew it, the night was over. Tenna said his farewells to the audience, Spamton waved and shot finger guns in their direction. Then, the wall appeared once again, and the spotlights shut off.

Spamton collapsed into the couch, sweaty and flushed from the heat of the spotlight. He let out a hefty sigh. "I did not expect it to be so warm on stage. Yeesh." He unbuttoned his jacket, then the top two buttons of his shirt as well. He took the mostly empty water bottle and finished it off, but still wasn't cooled down. "How do you do that like every night?"

Tenna chuckled, then gave a hand motion to a Zapper. "I don't really feel heat all that much. Can't sweat, either." The Zapper returned with another water bottle, and Tenna passed it to Spamton. "They loved you. I've never seen them react to a guest like that before."

Spamton chugged half the bottle in one go, then simply sat there and breathed. He grinned. "Gotta admit, it was fun." He paused, his smile softening. "Thank you, Tenna."

Tenna's hands wrung together. "Thank you, Spamton. It's been a while since I've had that much fun on stage."

Spamton frowned a little, the sadness in his gut returning. But, he shook it away. He would think about this later, after he and Tenna were done doing business. "You're doing amazing work, Tenna. I want you to know that."

Tenna's face flushed a light pink, and he rubbed the back of his head, flustered. "Well- I- uh- thank you, uh, Mr. Spamton- er- Spamton- that- I-" He cut himself off, then hung his head in his hands, clearly rattled with embarrassment. "Thank you. That... means so much."

Spamton patted his arm, since he was a little bit too short to reach his shoulder. "Come on. How about we go to the bar? Unwind a bit. My treat."

Tenna dropped his hands and sucked in a breath. "I-I couldn't. Couldn't possibly."

Spamton nudged him with his elbow, grinning cheekily up at him. "You sure, big guy?"

Tenna's smile went wobbly. Then, he threw caution to the wind. "Well, if you insist."

Chapter Text

Tenna once again found himself at a bar, leaning against the counter, a glass in hand. But, it wasn't whiskey this time. It was wine. Aged, expensive, delicious, just what he needed to wind down after an exciting day. He sat next to Spamton, a wide, bright grin on his face. He looked down at him, watched as he drank down his whiskey with a satisfied hum.

"Gotta hand it to you, Tenna," Spamton said lazily, leaning back in his seat, holding onto the counter to stop himself from falling. "Tonight was great. I don't think I can say it enough."

He had said it a few times by this point, but they were both far too drunk to keep track. Tenna hiccuped a little, trying his best not to burst into tears. He indulged in his wine, thankful that it didn't burn on the way down his throat. He ducked his head a bit sheepishly. "We'll know for sure by tomorrow what the ratings were. But I know for a fact that people are gonna be talking about you, Spamton." He threw his arms out, like he was opening up to embrace the world. "Two big shots on stage at once. That's gotta make headlines."

Spamton chuckled and searched his whiskey. For what, he wasn't sure. But, he did catch a glimpse of something. A look in his own eyes, gleaming, bright, happy. He relaxed. "I'll think about your proposal, Tenna. I'd have to work some things out with my shop, but, I will be thinking."

Tenna's shoulders drew up to his ears. He stifled a sniffle and shoved his wine glass to his face, taking a drink way too fast. He coughed a few times and patted his chest. "That's uh- that's great! Thank you for even considering it in the first place." Tenna hunched forward a little bit. "Such a busy man, and yet you still make time for someone like me."

"Someone like you?" Spamton almost scoffed at that. "The biggest star in showbiz? Who wouldn't make time for you." He sounded genuinely baffled.

Tenna's height shrank, just an inch, barely noticeable. Spamton's gaze flickered to him, then back at his whiskey.

Biggest star in showbiz. Tenna inwardly grimaced. He didn't feel like the biggest star in showbiz. Certainly not after the last few months. Hell, he'd been barely feeling like a showman at all recently until Spamton came on stage. But, for the first time in a long time, he felt alive. He felt the stage welcome him back with open arms, telling him that he did good. The roar of the crowds felt different. Everything that day had felt different. New. Better.

Tenna realized something.

He had never gone out with a guest after a show. Sure, they'd had a bit of small talk afterwards, but that was just formality and pleasantries. He'd never drank with them, never chatted about things other than business, never 'hung out' except for on stage. Tenna brought his wine to his lips, wine that Spamton had purchased for him. He'd strutted right up to the bar and ordered them drinks. The same wine that he had gotten for him last time.

Spamton remembered. How could he have remembered? They were drunk! Well, Tenna certainly was. He wasn't so sure about Spamton, but he did notice him drink a fair amount. Not to mention, he was relatively small. Around five-foot, maybe. He held his liquor pretty well. Color Tenna impressed.

"Well, you're right. Not many," he chuckled. More words bubbled up in the back of his throat. He wanted to ramble, wanted to go on and on about how much this meant to him. But, he didn't want to scare Spamton away with his sentimental yapping, so he kept it to himself. At the same time, he still wanted to talk. He just couldn't figure out what to say. He had already learned pretty much everything about Spamton's cars, so he doubted he wanted to talk about that again. So, where did he start?

Home life? No. Too personal.

Favorite color? No. Too juvenile.

Free time activities? There we go. That was something he could work with.

"So, Spamton," Tenna started, turning his head down to look at him. Spamton caught his gaze, then gave him a nod to continue. "What do you do? Besides cars, I mean."

Spamton, taken aback, huffed a little out of his nose, amused. "You tryin' something here, Mr. Tenna?"

Tenna sputtered. "No! Of course not. I have a sense of boundaries." He brushed his jacket, smoothing out the wrinkles. "Is it wrong to want to get to know you better?"

Spamton nodded a little, but his lips were pressed a bit tightly. Tenna assumed he had people trying to get with him left and right. He wouldn't blame them, of course. Spamton was conventionally attractive. With his perfectly combed hair, charming smile, small bits of muscle peeking out from under his clothes. Spamton had shed his jacket as they entered the bar, and had rolled his sleeves up to above his elbows, so his fancy golden watch was visible again. In Tenna's inebriated state, he found himself stealing glances. But, only lasting a mere millisecond, before he internally bashed himself over the head for even thinking about taking another peek.

"Not many people talk to me like this without wanting something in return. Money. Contracts. Something shiny," Spamton said, still frowning. "I'm trying to figure out your game, Tenna. Nobody wants something for nothing."

Tenna pursed his lips. Spamton was right. He did want something. He wanted Spamton to be part of his show. He wanted him to come aboard and bring those ratings up high. He wanted it. He needed it. But, at the same time, he also just wanted to know him better. He wanted to know what made him tick, what he liked, what he participated in. Even if Spamton decided not to join the show, Tenna found that he would want to keep him as an acquaintance, someone he could share time with, talk easily, unwind from the stress of a failing show.

"I have a game show episode scheduled for Friday night," Tenna blurted. He was somewhat avoiding Spamton's roundabout question.

Spamton hummed. "Is that so?"

"Why don't you join me for it? Just another test run. To see if you like both aspects of what I do," Tenna hid his face behind his wine glass, focusing on that instead of Spamton's reaction. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was jumping the gun, being too pushy, being obnoxious.

Spamton thought for a moment. "That would impact my choice."

Tenna's shoulders relaxed. "It would."

"Alright, Tenna," Spamton grinned. "What goes into a game show?"

Tenna perked up. "It's much more exhilarating, if I do say so myself. Interacting with the contestants is always a blast. Less script, more improv. Mike also loves to surprise us with the boards, so rolling with the punches is incredibly important."

Spamton nodded along as he drank his whiskey, then ordered another one. "And, if I may ask," he started to laugh a little. "What's the deal with the 'ass' thing?"

Tenna's face erupted into an embarrassed red. "Oh. That." He coughed into his hand, avoiding any kind of eye contact. "It's been a joke for as long as I can remember. I hardly know how it started!" He chugged the rest of his wine. "Anyway! Uh! We poke fun at the contestants every so often. Just some normal commentary, all of that. Oh! The physical challenges are my absolute favorite. I pick them out myself! I've actually been thinking of some crazy ideas, I'll have to show you the next time we're at the studio."

Next time. The words washed over Spamton like a wave of warm water. It made him feel something that he couldn't describe. Cozy, maybe. Or perhaps comfortable. The casualness of those two words made a smile creep onto his face. That combined with the whiskey made his head fuzzy, made him a little dizzy. He admired the side of Tenna's face as he continued to ramble on and on about the different kinds of challenges he'd done in the past.

Cooking, racing, mock battles. Spamton had seen a couple of game show clips, and he always loved how happy the contestants looked. Not only to be on TV, but to be so close to Tenna. They always, especially the younger contestants, looked up at Tenna with wonder in their eyes. Then, he would pat their heads, give them encouragement, and they would do their best, just to impress him. Sure, he made a jab every so often, but it was always in good fun. They were always having fun.

Tenna was... fun.

Spamton smiled softly at that. He was certain that his mind was made up already. But, he would make the final choice after the game show.

Friday could not come soon enough.

"Alright," Spamton said. "Tomorrow. I'll give you a call. And you'll tell me what you need from me for the game show on Friday. Sound good?"

Tenna couldn't hide the excited trembling in his hands as he gripped his glass. He nodded vigorously. "I'll make some notes to help you along, as well. Won't just throw you into the deep end. Although, you're a natural."

Spamton ignored the small flare of heat in his cheeks. "Not too bad yourself, big guy."

Tenna laughed at that. "Well, thank you. Thank you kindly."

Spamton thought for a moment, then spoke a little apprehensively, like he was slightly embarrassed by what he was about to say. Or, maybe he was apprehensive for another reason. Tenna wasn't sure. "I like to read."

"Huh? Oh!" Tenna smiled at that. "You're such an active man, envisioning you relaxing and reading is... a sight." Tenna didn't mean it as a jab, but it could have been taken that way. He started to apologize, but Spamton cut him off with a shrug.

"I know, not something you think about, huh? People always assume I'm chest-deep in a car. And well, they're right," he grinned. "But, I read too. My guilty pleasure are these cheap, cheesy romance novels. The kind that makes you cringe, but you're so invested, that you just can't stop."

Angel above, this man was perfect.

"With the most horrific dialogue you could ever imagine? They fall in love within two days of meeting?" Tenna continued, and Spamton shot a glance in his direction.

His eyes squinted, studying him intensely. Tenna looked genuine. Spamton raised an eyebrow. "Does Mr. Ant Tenna indulge in that?"

"Mr. Ant Tenna has the occasional evening with a terrible book," he joked. "We should start a book club."

Spamton snorted so hard he started to cough. Tenna hurriedly patted his back, but he waved his hand away and started to chuckle. "Oh! Oh! We should do a segment on the talk show!"

Tenna tried to overlook the word 'we,' but he couldn't ignore the way heat flushed in his cheeks. He aggressively blamed the alcohol for that. "Mike would lose his mind if I even thought about reading that on live!"

Spamton slapped the table, clearly losing his mind. He choked with laughter, and only continued to spout off random ideas. "Voice act it. You- you voice act it, Tenna."

Tenna grinned. "Now that is a stellar idea." He pulled out his notepad and scribbled some nonsense words. Did he spell anything right? Who knew! Sober him in the morning could figure it out. "I would be such a good voice actor. 'Oh Todd, the Heavens and the Earth couldn't stand between us! Let me jump into your arms, carry me away!'" He swooned and clasped his hands together by his cheek, feigning infatuation. If he had eyelashes, he would have batted them.

Spamton shrieked at that. "Oh my fucking god, Tenna!" He buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking from how hard he was trying not to laugh. He snorted again, his smile so wide that his face hurt. He calmed down for a second, then the giddiness of all the alcohol plus the sheer stupidity of it all crashed into him, and he doubled over laughing again.

Tenna's heart swelled. He blamed the alcohol for that too. He dropped his hands, then took a long drink of wine.

Spamton eventually calmed, but a few bubbles of laughter made their way into the air between them every so often. He finished the last of his whiskey. "You are a riot, Tenna. Never woulda thought."

Tenna grinned. "I suppose I get that a lot. Mr. Big Shot, as you call it. People think I'm all business off the stage."

"You know," Spamton said, finally fully calmed down. "You ask a lot about me. What about you? How did you even start TV Time?"

Tenna traced a finger along the rim of his glass. Spamton bought him a refill. Flattered, Tenna's heart swelled again. Totally the alcohol's fault. "Well, I suppose like you, it was something that I was kind of... expected to get into." He frowned a little. "I wasn't born. Not necessarily. I was built. By who, I forget. But I was given a purpose. I was built to entertain. And so I did! I started small. Comedy shows and what-have-you."

Small crowds. Little chuckles. A few claps. Tenna remembered some of it. He thought it was the greatest thing he'd ever achieved. He relished the occasional comment afterwards, how people enjoyed the show, how they asked when his next one was. He'd had a few repeat audience members. But, that was years and years ago. Tenna used to remember their names. Their faces. Now, it was all static. He frowned a little, but continued nonetheless.

"I also was in theater when I was in college. Quite the thespian, if I do say so myself. That's where I met Mike, actually. He'd always wanted to be a part of something bigger. So, I told him. I told him that I was going to make it big." He smiled at the fond memory. He hadn't thought about this in ages. Nowadays, he liked to think about the future more often. "He didn't believe me at first. But, he had to have seen something in me. Because he stuck with me. Became my stage manager once I got my own studio."

Spamton nodded as he listened. He was a very good listener. He looked at Tenna, not directly in the eyes, probably because he didn't have any, but he paid attention to him. He heard what he was saying. Normally, whoever he was drunkenly rambling to, mostly Ramb, tuned him out and only said the occasional, "Uh huh. Yep." But, Spamton followed his words. His expression shifted with the topic. Tenna felt heard. He felt seen. He couldn't remember the last time someone actually let him rant about anything, let alone ask for him to rant about anything.

"We started small. It was pretty much just Mike and I for the longest time. But, we started to branch out. Started covering news stories and more everyday stuff. That's how Elnina and Lanino joined up. They'd heard about a new network and wanted some experience, since they were newbies as well. We gave them a place. Then, we just expanded from there." Tenna's expression grew fond as he reminisced. "Gained more traction. Tried new things. I started the game show segments to push our brand out there even more. People loved it. They... still. Love it." Tenna paused. He drank some more wine. His throat clenched.

People still loved him. People still loved him. Right?

Tenna felt a hand on his wrist, just two gentle pats. He smiled softly down at Spamton. "Sorry, got lost in thought for a moment there. But! That's me. That's my story."

Spamton let his hand fall back to the counter. "We both worked our asses off for this, huh?"

Tenna chuckled, trying so desperately to hold back tears. Tears that he couldn't blame on the alcohol this time. "We sure did."

He had worked hard. He'd spent years perfecting his show. He had it down strict. He had a system. But, he couldn't control the audience. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't force them to enjoy his show. That's what pissed him off the most sometimes. The lack of control.

The silence stretched for a while. Then, Spamton checked his watch, and with a small sigh, he stood from his chair. "It's getting pretty late. You got a ride home?"

"Yes, yes, don't you worry. Ol' Tenna's got everything lined up for that," he chuckled, trying to ignore the twinge of sadness. The night was coming to an end, but it felt like it had just begun.

Spamton collected his jacket, swung it over his shoulder with a flourish. He slid some cash to the bartender, paying for all of their drinks. He sent a wave to Tenna, flashing him his signature grin. "Then, I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Yeah! Yeah. Tomorrow." Tenna watched as he left, a hand in his pocket, his head nodding towards someone who recognized him. Tenna turned back to the bar. He felt strangely empty. He shrank about a foot. He ordered a whiskey. He hated the taste.

He called Mike. Mike drove him home. Tenna tried not to cry to him in the car.

When he was dropped off at home, he couldn't even find the strength to take the stairs to his bedroom. He slept on the couch, still dressed in his suit, though he'd tossed the jacket to the floor. He dreaded the hangover in the morning.

Friday could not come soon enough.

Chapter Text

"Ladies, gentlemen, all those in between!" Tenna announced, sweeping his arm across the stage, a wide grin on his face. "Prepare yourselves for a night filled with surprises! For we have not only a bundle of new challenges, but a very special guest as well! If you tuned in last week, you'll recognize him. He's here, the man of the hour! Spamton G. Spamton!" As he spoke his name, Spamton entered the stage.

With a pep in his step, Spamton waved to the crowds, blowing kisses and flourishing his jacket. The crowds screamed his name, clapping and cheering. As he scanned the seats, he noticed a significant lack of empty ones. There were still one or two every so often, but not nearly as bad as it had been last week. When Spamton sent a glance to Tenna, he could see him huff in approval. Spamton's heart squeezed just a little at his smile, his true and genuine smile.

"Oh! Oh! I was here last week! He blew a kiss to me! MR. SPAMTON! HI!"

Spamton turned towards that person and pointed them out, waving directly to them.  Then, he crossed over to Tenna, grinned wide, and shook his hand. "Pleasure to be back, Mr. Tenna. Gotta say, the stage has a way of enticing you. Can't help but want to see it again." He flashed a charming smile to the crowd. Somebody fainted. But, the cheers didn't die down for a long while. Even as Tenna started his usual introduction, they were still raging.

A swell of pride arose within Spamton's chest. He clutched his microphone tight in his fist, almost trembling with excitement. He would never admit it to Tenna, but ever since that night at the bar after the talk show, he'd been lying awake at night, thinking. He'd been thinking so much, that he had envisioned every outcome for the game show. He had an idea of what Tenna was planning for the games and such, so he had spent so much time mulling over every little detail. He couldn't help himself! He was simply too excited. He knew exactly what he was going to say. He knew exactly what he was going to do. And he could not wait to begin.

Tenna was right. The roar of the crowds was incredible. He could feel the rumbling as they stomped their feet in a drum-roll. Then, Spamton heard it.

"Buckle up, because it's T! V! TIIIIIIIIIIIIIME!"

God, those words could not be louder. They made Spamton's ears ring, his body vibrate, his heart throb in his chest.

"Let's jump right into meeting our contestants!" The curtain rose, and three people stood behind, smiling, waving, doing little hops in their spots. Tenna took a small step back, and sent a look to Spamton.

Spamton paused, a little confused. He faltered, his voice caught in his throat.

Tenna was... giving him the center stage? He hadn't thought about that at all.

His heart pounded in his ears. The ringing got louder, higher. He heard the crowd stop for a moment. He begged his feet to move. He almost started to panic. But, shoving the surprise aside, he leapt into action.

Smoothing down his jacket, he came up to the first contestant. "Hello hello, welcome to the show. Tell us your name!" he greeted, and the woman immediately fawned over him.

"Mr. Spamton, what a pleasure, an absolute pleasure!" She fanned her face with her hand. "I just love my Cungadero, she's my baby! My name is Mary, and I have two very beautiful kids in the audience! Hello Mark, hello Kayla!" She waved aggressively, and Spamton heard some hoots and hollers from who he suspected were her kids. "They're perfect angels!"

Spamton laughed. "Well, that makes three of you!" Mary flushed, her mouth agape. "Very nice to meet you, Mary. Hope you have a great time tonight." He moved onto the next contestant. "And who might this handsome devil be?" He leaned the mic over to a younger looking man, who laughed and introduced himself.

"Rocky, Sir." He shook Spamton's hand, his grip firm and confident. "Have one of your cars myself as well. What a beauty. And the inner workings? Magnificent!"

"Well, thank you, thank you very much," Spamton grinned. "Glad to have you here tonight." Then, he moved onto the last contestant. "And last but certainly not least! Tell us your name, why don't ya?"

The last contestant enthusiastically shook his hand as well, but when they tucked their hair behind their ear, it was bashful. "I'm Lawrence, and I-I can't believe that I'm on stage with two big shots. It's like a dream come true!" They turned to Tenna. "I've wanted to meet you for so long, Mr. Tenna. May I shake your hand?"

Tenna, slightly surprised but quickly shaking it off, grinned and walked forward. "Of course! Glad to have all of you here tonight!" He shook Lawrence's hand, then all of the others as well. "We will be starting with our Marvelous Mystery Board! You all know the drill. Mike! Bring it up, would ya?"

The board began. Spamton stood next to Tenna. He elbowed his side, and when Tenna looked down, he gave him a wide smile and a big thumbs up. Tenna's nose nearly sprouted a flower right then and there.

While the contestants played the board, they chatted easily with one another. Strategizing, figuring out the puzzles, all the while Tenna gave very subtle hints, but mostly spent the time joking with Spamton. Any time somebody swore, it would be censored, and Tenna would wave his finger 'no' teasingly. But, if anybody happened to say 'ass,' the audience would snicker, and Tenna would shoot them a knowing look.

Spamton really needed to learn what that was all about.

They passed the board after a while, with only a little bit of struggle that Spamton guided them through with vague points in the right direction, and it was onto the physical challenge. Tenna had Spamton introduce it, which he had been ready for. They needed to work together to paint a set of designs on a wall within a few minutes. They varied in intricacy and colors. One person had the paint, one person knew the design, and one person was painting. So, communication was crucial. They managed three out of the five designs before time was up. While they weren't perfect, they still had a grand time, laughing and shouting at each other.

They finished off with a round of quiz questions. Spamton was pleasantly surprised to see that Tenna had prepared questions relating to the Cungadero. He'd clearly done his homework. Spamton was impressed. They answered all of them correctly, which had Spamton beaming with pride. He patted each of them on the shoulder, grinning and joking along with them.

Then, the night came to a close. Tenna signed off with his usual, "And thank you for tuning in tonight for TV Time! We will see you all next week!" Then, the audience disappeared, and the lights shut off.

Spamton went over to the contestants, shaking each of their hands once again. "Pleasure meeting all of you. I hope you had a fantastic night!"

"Thank you, Mr. Spamton!" Mary all but squealed.

"Quite a night, thank you, Mr. Spamton, Mr. Tenna," Rocky said politely.

"It was so much fun," Lawrence twiddled their thumbs, clearly still a little shy even after all the excitement.

"Hope to see you all on here again," Spamton said before grinning one last time and walking backstage with Tenna. The contestants were shown to the exit. Meanwhile, Spamton collapsed onto the couch in the green room with a hefty sigh. He loosened his tie and stretched his arms over his head, taking up most of the couch.

Tenna chuckled and sat across from him on another couch. His hands were in his lap, wringing together anxiously. "I-I don't want to rush you, but-"

"Yes, Tenna," Spamton cut him off. "I... had the time of my life out there. I think I'm starting to understand your everything."

Tenna flushed. "Well tha-that's great! I can draw up a formal agreement, just to make everything official, there are no strings attached whatsoever. I'm-" He buried his face in his hands, inhaling deeply, clearly trying not to cry.

Spamton sat up and looked to him, his face scrunching up in sympathy. He was never that good at comforting others, so he stayed silent. He tried to open his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He shrugged to himself, then started to look at his shoes.

Tenna calmed himself, taking in a few more deep, slightly shuddering, breaths. "I'm so glad. I've never shared a stage before. But, it's so much easier than I thought it would be. I'm having fun again, a-and I'm- I can't wait for the next episode." He smiled down at his hands, then clapped twice and stood. "I'll start writing the agreement. Why don't you join me in my office? I would need your input on some things."

"Seeing the Big Shot's big office, I feel honored," Spamton said as he stood and brushed himself off. "One thing, though, Tenna."

"Yes?" Tenna briefly looked at him before starting to lead the way.

Spamton followed close behind. "If you're going to hand me the reins all of a sudden, could you find a way to give me a heads up? Or talk about it beforehand? That was uh. Almost bad."

Tenna frowned. "Oh- uh. I'm sorry. I was just so excited, clearly you had it handled. But uh." He coughed a little awkwardly. "Yes! I will let you know. We can talk about all of the details before each recording session, but I'm sorry. That wasn't my intention."

"No problem," Spamton smiled. "Thank you, by the way. For letting me contribute at all. I was certain I was just going to be shadowing you pretty much, but interacting with the contestants was fun." He did furrow his eyebrows a little, however. "It... doesn't bother you that they all talked to only me?"

"No! Of course not!" Tenna waved his hand dismissively. Spamton raised an eyebrow, wanting to prod, but ultimately choosing not to. "Like I said, I've never shared a stage before. So, I'm also not entirely sure how it's supposed to go. But, they loved you. The audience and the contestants. You're just... a natural. There's no other way to put it."

Spamton chuckled a little. "When next to an expert, I feel I barely compare."

"You're just saying that to be nice," Tenna said. They reached his office just then, and he pushed the door open. "You can sit there. You thirsty? I have whiskey."

Spamton hummed as he took a seat at one side of Tenna's desk. "Thought you didn't like whiskey."

If Tenna heard him, he didn't respond. He instead walked to the fridge in the corner and grabbed two bottles. One wine, one whiskey. Then, he got two glasses from his cupboard and handed one to Spamton. "Ice?"

"Yes, please. If you don't mind." Spamton smiled sheepishly as Tenna returned to the fridge, dropping a few ice cubes into his glass with some satisfying clinks. Then, he came back to the desk once again. He poured himself a small glass of wine for himself, and a decent glass for Spamton. "Thank you kindly."

"Alright," Tenna sat in his chair and cracked his knuckles. "Let's get down to business, shall we?" He brought out a sheet of paper. "So, main things. What do you want out of this partnership?"

Spamton blinked. He hadn't really thought that far. "Uh." He chuckled nervously. "Gotta be honest, nothing much, Mr. Tenna. I'm not strapped for cash. I think it's just a fun side project. Y'know?"

Tenna nodded. "Well, I don't think I would feel right giving you nothing, so how about we just pick a percentage?"

"Uh, five?" Spamton said. Tenna jotted down some notes. "And, another thing. I will still have my own shop to run."

"Of course," Tenna said, half-listening, mostly writing.

"So, maybe for now, I only appear on the game shows," he finished, and Tenna wrote that down as well. "I can work on finding a proper manager to take my place most days, so I can be around here to help out. But, that'll take some time."

"Completely understand," Tenna said. "So, every Friday night at the least."

"Yes," Spamton nodded. "But, once I get that manager, I'll be more open and available for talk shows, news reports, what-have-you."

Tenna continued to write. He took a sip of his wine. Spamton drank his whiskey. He glanced at it thoughtfully. It had a certain kick to it, like an exotic spice. He hummed. "This is good. Where'd you get it?"

"Oh, just some place downtown. Can't remember the name." Tenna rubbed the back of his neck. "I'll figure it out, though, if you like it that much."

"Mhm, please do," Spamton grinned as he took another drink. "I also noticed something. You uh. Don't have ad breaks, do you?"

Tenna looked up, his mouth in a frown, a bit confused. "Do we need those?"

"It's basic sales. Promote other brands, get more money, all that stuff," Spamton said. "I can hook you up with some businesses looking for more reach. TV Time would be an incredible place for them. You'll get a cut of their revenue. More money in your pocket."

Tenna thought for a moment. "You can actually do that?"

"Well, family being in sales, yeah, I can do that," he chuckled, his smile straining for just a moment. "Then, it can give you a few minutes between set changes to review what's coming up, check in with the crew, all of that."

"Oh. That's really smart, actually," Tenna's frown shifted into a smile once again. "You're... just the person I needed."

Spamton blushed a little. "You're just- eh-" He ducked his head. "Thank you, Tenna."

"Well," Tenna finished writing his last sentences. "Take a look at that. I'll type it up and print it out in a few, but does that look alright to you?"

Spamton took the sheet of paper and read it over. The basic idea was that Spamton was to appear on live on Friday nights for the game shows, set up advertisements with businesses, run any kind of sales necessary since Tenna didn't know the first thing about it, and other such duties that go along. He nodded along, read through it a few times, then looked back up to Tenna. "Looks perfect."

"Incredible!" Tenna beamed, then took the paper back. He brought out his laptop, then quickly typed it into a formal agreement. It took a while, and Spamton was content to sit back and enjoy his whiskey. Tenna printed it out, then signed at the bottom of the page. He passed it over to Spamton, who signed his name on the dotted line, right next to Tenna's. "Well, it's official." He let out a shaky sigh. Then, he stuck his hand out. "Pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Spamton."

Spamton grinned and shook his hand. "Pleasure doing business, Mr. Tenna."

Chapter Text

It had been a few weeks since Spamton signed the agreement. Three weeks and four days, to be exact. Not that Tenna was keeping track. Not that he marked the day on his calendar or anything. He most definitely did not.

He sat in his office, drinking a glass of wine, and thinking.

These last few weeks had been absolutely incredible. Ticket sales were through the roof! They were consistently sold out, and Mike had even brought up the idea of adding another audience section, because the demand was so high. Tenna was flabbergasted to say the least. The ratings had shot up, he was getting more fanmail than ever. While a lot of it was addressed to Spamton, most of it was for Tenna. He took the time to separate them into piles, and he would give them to Spamton on Friday.

Spamton wasn't always in the studio, for obvious reasons. But, he did hang around a lot. He spent his evenings there, either going over the game show for that week, or just hanging out with Tenna in his office. It was never a dull moment. Mike had actually started to complain about the noise, but Tenna was far too busy laughing to care.

He had also stocked up on plenty of whiskey. Had he bought too much? He didn't think so. It wasn't that Spamton drank a lot in one sitting, but with how often he was there, Tenna was afraid of running out.

Aside from the whiskey, Tenna wanted to do something nice for Spamton. He had, quite literally, saved his show from falling apart. He couldn't think of any words to say that could convey exactly how he felt. So, he turned to material things. He had a few ideas. One of them was serious and important, and the other was cheeky and silly.

He wanted to get them matching suits. Something with pizzazz. Something that would pop out! Something nice, shiny, perfect. He had a few ideas in mind. He wanted to keep the theme of red and yellow, but maybe add some more gold into it. He had reached out to a tailor a few days ago, asking if it was possible to come in for a fitting soon. The tailor had an opening for five that evening. Tenna checked the time. It was half-past three. He would have to call Spamton over relatively soon.

But, his more silly idea was giving Spamton a new book that had come out recently. A stupid, cheesy romance with a dumb title, "Lovers Mountain." Tenna had read the blurb on the back and decided it was perfect. He'd already bought it. It was hiding in the bottom drawer of his desk, under lock and key. He grinned down at it, then returned to his paperwork.

He was finalizing the challenges for that week's game show. He wanted to go over the details with Spamton first, but that was mostly just where they would be standing, who would speak for what part, and such. Spamton was a stickler for plans. He liked things to be in order, and he didn't appreciate surprises all that much. Tenna learned from their first game show, and he was working hard to make sure he didn't make that mistake again.

He sighed happily as he circled parts of the script and jotted down notes. He finished his glass of wine. He didn't feel the need for another. He was content getting himself some water instead. He put the wine back in the fridge and returned to his desk. Then, there was a knock on his door.

"Come in," he called, hardly looking up from his papers.

The door swung open, and Spamton himself stepped inside, shooting some finger guns as a greeting. "Hey hey! How's the man of the hour doing?"

"I don't know, how is he doing?" he grinned, and Spamton rolled his eyes. "Just finishing up plans for Friday. I was about to call you, actually. I wanted to talk to you about some things."

Spamton pulled the chair out and sat, grinning. He slapped a wrapped item onto the desk and slid it over. "Sounds good. But, first. I may have gotten you something."

Tenna faltered. "You... got me something?"

Spamton chuckled and patted the present twice. "I wanted to thank you."

Tenna scoffed half-heartedly. "Thank me? For what? You're the one that I-I should be thanking. I- uh." He coughed. "I got you something too." He unlocked the drawer and pulled out the present. He placed it on the desk, then noticed the similar size. He froze. "Hold- hold on."

Spamton blinked. His fingers curled around the edges of the present. "No. No. No, you didn't." His lips broke into a wide grin, and he barely held back a bark of laughter. "No! You didn't!"

"I-I think I did!" He quickly handed the gift over to Spamton, who eagerly snatched it and held it close. Tenna grabbed his own, and they started to unwrap together.

It was the same fucking book.

They stared at each other for a long moment. Then, burst into hearty laughter. Spamton curled into himself, wheezing, his face shading a dark red. Tenna smacked his hand on the table, rattling his glass, almost knocking it over. He barely noticed as he laughed and laughed. Then, he grabbed the book and flipped to the first page.

"Spamton, we just- we have to read it together," he said between chuckles. His face hurt. His face always seemed to hurt when he was with Spamton.

"We do, don't we?" Spamton's eyes scrunched up, and he wiped away tears from the corners of them. He exhaled sharply, then picked up the book and flipped to that same page. "Oh, you said you wanted to talk about something."

Tenna gave a happy sigh, then closed the book and set it down after reading through the first few lines. Terrible, absolutely terrible introduction. But, he couldn't help but be intrigued. "Yes! Alright. So. Big idea here." He grabbed a different sheet of paper and faced it towards Spamton. It was a cutesy drawing of them in matching suits. Red blazers, Tenna with black slacks and yellow dress shoes, while Spamton wore white slacks and black dress shoes. They had the same yellow tie, and a pin on their lapels. Tenna's was TV, while Spamton's was BS.

Spamton chuckled. "Now, what does BS stand for?"

"Well, Big Shot, of course. What else?" Tenna said. "But! What do you think?"

"I think it's awesome. I've been wondering about that as well. Matching suits, and all. I don't think I quite fit the theme you're going for." He had just been wearing his usual suit, white slacks, black button-up, black jacket, and white tie for the broadcasts.

"You're very classic, I love a man with style," Tenna complimented.

"You're too much," Spamton waved his hand dismissively.

"I actually have an appointment with a tailor at five this evening. I wanted to get your opinion for yours first, but I was going to go anyway to get mine renewed." He looked solemnly towards the suit hanging up on a rack nearby. "She's served me well for many years now. Could use an upgrade."

Spamton nodded thoughtfully. "My calendar's clear. Where are we going?"

"It's this place in downtown Cyber City. Uh... Seams by Pink, I believe it's called." Tenna's gaze flickered towards Spamton, whose face suddenly went pale. "You alright?"

Spamton coughed and hid his mouth behind the back of his hand. "Yeah! Yeah. I'm fine. Just." He coughed again, and a strangled noise that Tenna couldn't describe left his mouth. Like a cross between a wheeze and a sniffle. "Not my best today. Maybe I... ate something bad." He grimaced.

"Okay," Tenna said slowly. "I can reschedule if you're not up for it."

"No! I'm up for it. Gotta get it done before Friday." He laughed nervously. "Just." He cleared his throat. "Let's not take too long. Downtown makes me anxious."

Tenna frowned. He slowly stood up and got Spamton a glass of water. He gladly accepted it and chugged half in one gulp. He pinched the bridge of his nose, inhaling deeply, calming himself. Then, he stood and grabbed his book. "Let me put this in my car. Then- then we're leaving?"

"Yeah," Tenna nodded. He kept his gaze on Spamton, looking for any answers hiding behind his eyes. But, all he could see was a faint glimmer of panic, which was quickly hidden by a show of confidence and nonchalance.

Spamton hurried to the exit. He tossed the book inside his car, then met Tenna by the doors to the studio. After a pause, they got into Tenna's car and started the drive.

Tenna wanted to ask. But, Spamton had gone quiet. He sat with his hands in his lap, fiddling aggressively with his fingers. He picked at his skin and nails. Tenna forced his eyes to the road, trying to ignore the dread pooling in his stomach.

Had he done something wrong? Was he moving way too fast? No, he didn't think so. Spamton was perfectly fine until he'd mentioned the tailor they were going to. Did he know Pink? He couldn't be sure. He opened his mouth to ask, but another side-glance at Spamton made him clamp shut. He was staring out the window, breathing purposefully, almost harshly. Tenna saw in the reflection that his eyes were squeezed shut.

"So," Tenna started. Spamton flinched. "I don't understand much about cars. How did you design the Cungadero?"

Spamton perked up. He hesitated for a moment, then a small, soft smile spread across his face. He launched into his spiel, rambling on and on about the beauty of mechanics. He spoke about the techniques he used to make sure the Cungadero was perfectly quiet, smooth, elegant, even on a road filled with potholes. Tenna listened to every word, nodding along, asking questions. Spamton was always happy to answer them. He relaxed into his seat. He stopped picking at his skin. Tenna silently congratulated himself on a job well done.

Then, they reached the tailor. And all of Spamton's excitement melted away. He apprehensively stepped out of the car and smoothed his jacket down. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and hunched forward, almost as if he was trying to hide his face. Tenna frowned again. But, he still didn't say anything. He just led the way into the store, held the door open for him, and walked in behind him.

The store's design was rather simple, but it was filled to the brim with racks and racks of outfits. Shirts on one side, pants and skirts on another, dresses in the back. Mostly formal attire, a few business casuals, never any street clothes. Tenna walked up to the front counter, giving a bright smile to the man behind it.

"Hello, I have an appointment to get our measurements taken. Under Ant Tenna," he said. Spamton went still behind him. He refused to look at the counter, or rather, the person behind. It was a man with pink skin and hair, wearing a simple black v-neck and some green pants. He had a long, pointy nose. Tenna sent a glance at Spamton. He had the same long, pointy nose, although he was still trying to somewhat hide his face.

"Mr. Tenna! I've been expecting you. My name is Pink. Come on back and we'll get started." Pink grinned, then lifted the counter flap and led them to a room in the back.

It was a circular room, with a couple of mirrors and a stool in the middle. There was a table set up with measuring tape, some pins, a notepad, and a pen. Pink shut the door a bit harshly behind them. Spamton flinched.

"Alright, so you said you're looking for two suits, correct?" Pink asked.

"Yes! One for me and one for my co-host," he said, pointing to Spamton with a polite smile on his face. Spamton looked up briefly. He met Pink's eyes. He looked away, down at his shoes. "I have uh- some concepts, if you wanted to take a look." He pulled the drawing out from his pocket and handed it over to Pink's outstretched hand.

Pink studied the drawing, humming and nodding thoughtfully. "Only thing I can't do are the pins. But, everything else looks pretty good. Very nice drawing, by the way. Did you do it yourself?"

Tenna grinned. "Quite the artist, am I right?" He chuckled.

"Well, if all looks good, then why don't we get started? Step up on here for me, Mr. Tenna." Pink pointed to the stool, and Tenna quickly stood on top. He shrunk down quite a few feet, much to Pink's surprise. "Won't that mess with the sizing?" he asked.

"Oh, no." Tenna shook his head. "Once I put on clothes, my magic makes them grow or shrink with me. It just has to fit perfectly first."

Pink nodded, then got started with the measurements. It didn't take too long. He marked down numbers as he went along, and he was finished in no time. Tenna stepped off the stool and fixed his sleeves. He sent a look to Spamton. He was sitting in a chair against the wall, his eyes fixed on one spot across the room. He looked dazed. His eyes were just a bit glassy. Tenna was about to reach out to touch him when Pink spoke up.

"Your turn," Pink said sharply. Spamton's head shot up. Tenna swore there were tears in his eyes. "Come on up here. It won't be long."

Spamton made his way to the stool and stood, holding his arms out. Pink was much less careful with the measurements this time around. Tenna couldn't help but notice the way he handled Spamton like a doll. Yanking his arm one way, pushing his leg a little that way, twisting his head to get the right angle.

Tenna's throat seized. He wanted to call out, tell him to slow down, but he couldn't. There was something in Pink's eyes, something that Tenna couldn't comprehend. Like malice, but in a playful, sadistic kind of way. Then, Pink whispered something in Spamton's ear that made him flinch. He hung his head. His shoulders shook.

Something in Tenna snapped. "Alright, are we about done here?" he said sharply. "We're busy tonight, so could you hurry it up?"

Pink sent a glare at him that quickly shifted into forced politeness. "Yes. Of course. We're just about finished." He ripped the measuring tape off Spamton, not caring that it whipped back and the metal part struck him in the face. Spamton stepped off the stool and marched to the door, pulling it open and leaving without even a glance to Tenna. "Your suits will be ready within a few weeks. I have the kinds of jackets you want in stock, so I'll just need to fit them to your sizes. I'll call you."

Tenna's hands trembled a little, but he brought a smile to his face nonetheless. "Thank you very much."

"Oh, and you'll want to wait. I have to talk to your co-host for a moment," Pink said, not looking up from his chart.

Tenna didn't answer. He turned and left. Spamton wasn't in the shop any longer. When Tenna looked outside, he saw him a few feet from the door smoking. He exited the shop. "Hey-"

"I'm fine, Tenna," Spamton said sharply. "Let's go."

"He said he wanted-"

"I don't give a fuck about what he wants!" He crushed the cigarette on the sidewalk, then found a trash can and threw it in the cigarette-designated spot. "We're leaving."

"Oh, Spamton, don't be like that! Come back inside." Pink's shrill voice made a shiver run down Tenna's spine.

Spamton's breath hitched. His shoulders drew up tightly to his ears. "Go, Tenna. I'll be a while." He turned, and he slowly walked back inside.

Tenna's shoulders slumped forward. He stared after Spamton, but he disappeared from view within a few moments. He looked at the car. He looked back at the shop. He sat in the driver's seat and he waited.

What the hell had he done? They clearly knew each other. Probably related, as well. Were they brothers? Cousins? Tenna was inclined to believe brothers. But, the way Pink looked at him, it made Tenna's skin crawl. There was something that he was missing, but it seemed pretty clear from the way Spamton trembled, the way he instantly heeded to his beck and call.

Why hadn't he spoken up? Why hadn't he requested a different tailor? Why didn't he say anything?

Tenna didn't need an explanation, but if it was something that was causing him harm, he felt that he should have spoken up and told him that it was a bad idea. Tenna would have canceled the appointment right then and there! He never would have brought him there!

Tenna hung his head, pressed his forehead to the steering wheel. He just breathed for a while, hoping for the best, but not knowing if it was his place to go in and check on him. He barely knew him, for crying out loud.

Tenna sat there. He didn't know for how long he sat. But eventually, Spamton emerged from the shop. His face was red. His hands were clenched into tight fists. Tenna's head shot up towards him, and he met Spamton's gaze. He was crying. But, once he saw Tenna, he looked confused.

Tenna quickly unlocked the doors and beckoned for Spamton to come inside. He did, albeit apprehensively. He slid into the passenger side, then clicked his seat-belt. He didn't speak. Tenna didn't prod. He simply drove back to the studio. He parked next to Spamton's Cungadero. He waited, just in case Spamton wanted to speak.

He didn't. But, he didn't leave the car either, which baffled Tenna.

Tenna didn't even know how to begin. Did he apologize? Ask questions? Just leave? Offer him a drink? A smoke? What the hell was he supposed to do?

Tenna's mouth opened. Then, he closed it. He dug into his pocket and pulled out a box of cigarettes and offered one to him. Spamton took it. He stepped outside to light and smoke it. Tenna exited the car as well, but stayed standing a distance away from him. Spamton moved to his own car, but instead of getting inside, he sat on the hood. He patted the spot next to him. Tenna sat down as well. The car didn't even buckle under his weight. He was about to comment on the strength and durability, make a joke or such to lighten the mood, but he stayed silent. He lit a cigarette. They smoked in silence.

"So, matching suits, huh?" Spamton whispered, finally able to break the mental barrier preventing him from speaking.

Tenna hesitated. "Matching suits."

Another pause.

"He's my brother."

"I... assumed. After I saw him."

Spamton breathed out a puff of smoke. "You didn't know."

"No." Tenna shook his head.

"It's okay."

"No, I-I don't think it is." Tenna tried to look at him, but the knots in his stomach made him want to vomit.

"It's okay, Tenna." Spamton leaned back and stared up at the sky. It was nearing sunset, so it was a beautiful array of blues merging into pinks and oranges. The clouds swirled overhead, reflecting a dull yellow. He turned to face him. His expression was blank. His eyes were shining in the dying light. "It's okay."

Tenna inhaled through his nose. "I'm sorry."

Spamton nodded. "I know. You didn't know."

"I'll go by myself to pick them up once they're done," he said quietly. Spamton nodded. "Why didn't you say anything?"

Spamton shrugged.

Tenna went quiet. He breathed in more smoke. It calmed him, only a little bit, though. "Do you..?"

"I'm fine." Spamton finished his cigarette. He got off the hood, stamped it on the ground, then held it tight between his fingers. He didn't jump back up, so Tenna slipped off and stood a few feet away. "I'll see you Friday."

"See you Friday."

Then, Spamton was gone.

Tenna found himself drinking whiskey that night.

Chapter Text

When Tenna stepped outside, Spamton was smoking a cigarette, his hands trembling, his mind racing. He should have spoken up. He should have told Tenna to cancel the appointment. He should have begged him to pick somewhere else. But, he didn't.

Spamton flinched when Tenna spoke.

"Hey-"

"I'm fine, Tenna," he said sharply, a bit harsher than he had intended. Towards Tenna, at least. "Let's go."

"He said he wanted-"

"I don't give a fuck about what he wants!" He crushed the cigarette on the sidewalk, then found a trash can and threw it in the cigarette-designated spot. "We're leaving." He needed to get out of there before-

"Oh, Spamton, don't be like that! Come back inside." Pink's voice called to him, beckoning him, commanding him. He'd heard that tone far too many times before.

Spamton's breath hitched. His shoulders drew up tightly to his ears. The fog in his mind returned, stronger than ever. He was compelled. He had no choice. "Go, Tenna. I'll be a while." He turned, and he slowly walked back inside.

Pink held the door for him, then slammed it shut as soon as Spamton was inside. He snatched him by his upper arm and dragged him back into the fitting room. He slammed that door too, and Spamton flinched violently, trying to gain distance between them. But, no matter where he turned, there was a wall. He pressed himself against it, squeezing his eyes shut, turning his face away. He begged himself not to cry.

Pink stalked towards him, pointing directly at his face. "So. With Tenna now, are we? Thought you were out with your cars, White?"

"Don't call me that," Spamton snapped with a sudden rush of fury. His head shot towards Pink, his cheeks flushing red. He narrowed his eyes. "What I do is none of your business anymore."

"It is when you waltz into my shop and pretend you don't know me. Come on, White. Don't be fucking stupid. I'm your brother. You're always my business." He stalked closer to him, then grabbed the bottom half of his face and pulled him close. "You think you've made it big now, huh? Think all of your problems will melt away because you're hiding behind someone bigger? Wealthier? More powerful? Tenna will see that you're worthless soon enough."

Spamton shoved him back. "Don't think I've forgotten how you and the others ask me for money. Just because I ignore it, doesn't mean I don't see it. Stop fucking with me, stop fucking up my life. Just leave me the hell alone! I never wanted to come here in the first place! Only reason why was because Tenna made the appointment."

"Oh, but he must have told you, huh? Told you where you were going. You didn't argue. You know deep down that you belong with us, White. It's what our parents wanted! It's our legacy. You fuck off, change your name, sell bigger things. But it doesn't change who you are. You're still that scared little boy who could barely hold a mop without breaking down! Look me in the eyes, White. Look me. In. The. Eyes." Pink lurched forward and grabbed his face again, forcing eye contact.

Spamton cried out and ripped himself away, but Pink held on too tight. He held him firm by the face and his left arm, keeping him still. Spamton tried to kick, but he fell backwards. Pink released him at that moment, letting him collapse to the ground. "Why are you suddenly so pathetic, White? You had a good run of confidence. I saw you on that show. How happy you looked. But you know what I see? Nothing but walls. You can't keep us away. Can't hide. Can't run. You return. You'll see."

"You're nothing without me," Spamton spat, wiping his mouth. He forced himself up on to shaky legs. He braced himself on a chair. "You all were failing. Shitty shops. Shitty clothes. Shitty marketing. Our parents only told you so much before they fucked off. Had to figure out the rest by yourselves."

"We were thriving before you showed up," Pink sneered. "You're the reason why they left. They couldn't stand the sight of a disabled child ruining their brand! You know how much time and money they spent trying to make you normal?"

"I am normal!" Spamton yelled, the walls shaking around him. He huffed, turning himself away.

"Then why can't you look at me, White?" Pink's voice turned soft for a moment. "Why were you always so defiant? Why are you still defiant? Ignorant. Stupid." He spat that last word out like poison.

Spamton curled in on himself a little. "I'm better than you. I built everything that I am. I got a deal with Tenna. You're just pissy that you will never be as successful as I am. I'm fucking rich, Pink!" He laughed bitterly and covered his face with his hands, breathing in deep. "You're jealous. You're tired of trying to pitch your shitty business to bigger and better ones. You're path-"

"Hush," Pink said firmly. Spamton clamped his mouth shut, and his hands fell limp at his sides. "You'll be back. As soon as Tenna's finished with you, he'll dump you somewhere. You know that as well as I do."

"No," Spamton tried, but his voice broke. It wasn't true. He knew that it wasn't true.

"You barely know him, White," Pink crossed the room and gingerly took his face into his hands. He pressed their foreheads together. Spamton fell into his arms. "He'll forsake you. He'll turn away from you. Once he figures out what you are, White, he'll be disgusted at the mere thought of you. But, we never will be. I love you, White. No matter how much you run or fight us, our love is stronger than any contract."

"You have a funny way of showing it," Spamton hissed between his teeth, but a quick squeeze to his shoulder made him shut himself up.

"Once your little escapade is done, once Tenna is finished with you, you'll come back. We'll be a family again. Isn't that what you've always wanted? A family? This family?" Pink asked, holding him tight between his arms, embracing him, wrapping around him like a snake, restrictive and deadly.

"I want nothing to do with you." A few tears slipped out of Spamton's eyes.

Pink wiped them away with a sigh. He held the sides of his face again, gently stroking his cheeks. "Oh, White. Don't lie to me. Remember what happens when you lie to me?"

Spamton's eyes shot wide. He shoved Pink away. "Don't you fucking touch me." He stomped towards the door and ripped it open.

Pink let him leave, but spoke one final time. "I'll see you again soon, won't I?"

Spamton froze. He shuddered. He moved on.

When he walked out of the shop, he was on the brink of sobs. But, Tenna's face peeking up at him through the windshield of his car made him stop again. He wanted to ask, but he couldn't speak. He couldn't force any words out of his mouth. He just sat in the car and buckled his seat belt.

Tenna didn't say anything.

For once, Spamton was thankful that he remained silent.

I'll see you again soon, won't I?

The words replayed in Spamton's mind over and over, taunting him. No amount of whiskey could make those words leave him. He drowned himself in liquor. The lights and music from the club behind him became white noise. Normally, it was all he could focus on.

People danced around him. Laughed. Cheered. Drank. Sang.

Spamton stared down at his glass.

He couldn't cry. He always felt like it, like he was on the brink of sobbing. But, he didn't.

Someone bumped into his shoulder. A muttered apology. A laugh. A clink of glasses.

I'll see you again soon, won't I?

Spamton clenched his eyes shut and downed another shot. His throat burned. His stomach ached. He was going to vomit. He was going to sob. He needed to leave. He needed to go.

Someone's hand was on his shoulder. He slowly turned to look, half-expecting it to be Tenna. Maybe then he would crack a smile.

But it wasn't.

"You alright?" It was a woman. Soft, fair skin, dark hair, kind eyes. She turned and said something to the bartender. A glass of water was given to her. She handed it to Spamton. "Drink that."

Spamton offered a half-nod, then he started to drink. It did nothing. The pit in his stomach remained. He needed something else. His gaze shifted to the woman. She leaned down, smiling kindly, gently. He blinked. Then again. A small grin appeared on his face. He rested his chin on his hand. "Must be my lucky night, havin' an angel like you to take care o' me."

The woman sat next to him, laughing a little. "Riley." She held her hand out.

I'll see you again soon, won't I?

"Spamton G. Spamton, at your service, ma'am." He tried his best to wink. It probably worked out in his favor. He shook her hand.

She didn't seem to react to his name. Either she didn't know him, or she didn't care who he was. Spamton didn't pay attention to that. Instead, he focused on the overwhelming sense of need pooling in his stomach.

Spamton didn't know what happened next. The conversation blended together, the words forming into nonsense, the topics meaning nothing to him. But, he found himself pressing Riley against the wall. She was giggling, squirming, holding him close.

He was kissing her.

He was running his hands along her sides. Teasing. Lifting clothing. His fingers dancing across her skin. He was grinning at her.

For a moment, his mind was clear. A hint of regret. A spatter of panic. He squashed it as soon as it appeared. He needed this. He needed this.

He kissed her again.

Her fingers were in his hair, threading, pulling just a little.

Then, those words. Music to his drunken ears.

"Do you want to get outta here?"

"Yes."

They got a taxi. Or one of Riley's friends drove. Spamton wasn't sure. He was too busy kissing her in the backseat, their legs intertwined, tongues running along lips, skin, sweat. Desperate. Frantic.

Riley collapsed to her bed, spread her arms open. Spamton climbed on top of her, kissed her breathless, stripped her bare. He fucked her like he had something to prove.

He did, though, didn't he?

He was alive. He was free.

Pink couldn't control him.

His mind couldn't control him.

Tenna couldn't control him.

Tenna.

Spamton shoved those thoughts out of his mind. He kissed her again. He fucked her harder. She moaned loud in his ear.

Everything melted away.

Spamton woke up naked.

In a bed that wasn't his.

In a room he didn't recognize.

Next to a woman he didn't know the name of.

He blinked. Then, the headache hit him. He rolled over onto his side and groaned, clutching the blankets to ground himself. The woman next to him stirred, then slowly sat him. She groaned too, a hand to her head. She looked over to Spamton.

"Well, good morning," she said, pulling herself out of bed sluggishly. She tugged on some clothes. She tossed Spamton's clothes over to him. "How you feeling? Advil? Water?"

Spamton couldn't speak. He forced a nod as he sat up, hastily getting dressed. His clothes were foul-smelling, like alcohol and sadness wrapped up and tied with a sweaty bow. A bottle of Advil and a glass of water were handed to him as soon as he stepped into the kitchen. He took two pills and washed them down. He chugged way too much water, but he would do anything to make his hangover stop sooner.

"Breakfast?" she asked.

Spamton shook his head. He patted his pockets. Phone, wallet, keys. Where were his keys?

"Oh, some things fell out of your pockets on the way in," she said. "Keys are right there. Your car is probably still at the club. Want a ride?"

Spamton shook his head. He made his way to the door, then waved a silent farewell and left. He saw her shrug out of the corner of his eye. But, he couldn't focus on that. All he could focus on was the disgusting feeling of his skin crawling.

He had just had sex.

With a woman.

From a club.

Spamton was going to be sick all over again. He quickened his pace, leaving the apartment building swiftly. The fresh air helped, but the bright sun in his eyes did not. He pulled out his phone. It was nearly dead, but enough battery life to see where he was on a map. He found the club he had been at the night before, then started to walk.

The city passed him by. Nobody spared him a glance. For once, he was grateful. He had a love-hate relationship with being stopped on the sidewalk. For the most part, people just fawned from a distance. Very rarely was he actually approached.

Maybe they didn't recognize him.

He was extremely disheveled.

His hair was tangled. His face was pale. His clothes were wrinkled and nasty.

He found the club. Thankfully, his car was still there and not broken into. He climbed inside the driver's seat and leaned his head on the steering wheel. He felt like screaming. He felt like sobbing.

What day was it?

He didn't think it was Friday. He prayed that it wasn't Friday.

He checked his phone again. It was dead.

Spamton's face scrunched up. Anger flooded his mind. He threw his phone into the passenger seat, then started the car and drove home.

As soon as his car was parked in the garage, Spamton started to heave.

He shoved the door open and stomped inside, slamming any door in his path. He marched into his bathroom and started the shower. He found some clean clothes in a hamper and tossed them next to his towel. As soon as the water was scalding, he stepped inside.

It hurt.

The boiling water turned his skin an ugly red. It stung. He lifted his face to stare into the water, squeezing his eyes shut. It rinsed away all the sweat and grime, but the feeling still remained.

He'd just had sex with a woman.

Why? Why? Because he was angry? Because he needed a distraction?

I'll see you again soon, won't I?

Spamton's breath hitched. He slowly slid to the floor of the shower, tucking his head between his knees. He sobbed.

He dug his nails into the skin of his wrist.

Pain.

It made Pink's voice go away. It always made Pink's voice go away.

He started to scratch. It burned right alongside the scorching water. His mind cleared. He cried out in anguish, then yanked his wrist closer and scratched harder, deeper, faster. Skin peeled away. Blood seeped. The pain made the fog subside. He focused on it.

He scratched in a new place up his forearm.

Pain. Blood. Clear mind. Hot water. Burn.

It burned. It burned so bad. Something in Spamton's mind begged him to stop.

He couldn't.

He scratched and scratched and scratched until his fingers went numb.

He stood. He washed his hair. He washed his body. He still felt her hands on his skin. He still felt her kiss on his lips.

He had wanted it, though, hadn't he?

Yes. But, not with her.

Not with her.

He'll be disgusted at the mere thought of you.

Spamton turned the water off. He stood there for a moment, frozen, dripping, cold. His arm ached. It burned. It burned so bad.

Regret poured into him. It started in his gut. Spamton doubled over, vomiting at his feet. He started to cry again. He sobbed. He turned the water back on. Hotter than before.

He sat.

He wanted what he couldn't have.

I'll see you again soon, won't I?

"No," Spamton forced out. "No. No. You'll never fucking see me again."

He turned the water off. He stepped out. He dried off. He got dressed. He smoothed his hair back, brushing it to exactly how he wanted it.

He hesitated at the sight of his arm. It was disgusting. Multiple painful red splotches, oozing blood, hot to the touch. He ignored it and yanked his sleeve down. He pulled himself together.

He had work to do.

Chapter Text

Tenna's heart sank as Spamton walked in the doors of the studio. He looked normal, from an outside perspective at least. But, Tenna noticed the lack of shine in his eyes, the unfocused glaze that shrouded them, and the slight hunch of his shoulders as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. He greeted the others with a smile, but the moment he saw Tenna, he shrank back. He averted his gaze.

Tenna felt sick to his stomach. But, he put on a brave face and strolled forward, trying his damned best to be normal, and like he hadn't just caused Spamton an insane amount of grief. "Hey! You up for the show tonight?" he asked, wanting to put a hand on his shoulder for support. He kept his distance, though.

Spamton smiled a little. "Yeah." He looked up at Tenna, but his eyes seemed to glance past him, not quite reaching his face. "What's the plan? I uh... forgot."

"Let's go over it in my office," Tenna offered, and Spamton nodded once.

Wordlessly, they walked the familiar route to Tenna's office. He carefully shut the door, making sure it didn't make a single noise. Spamton didn't flinch. Tenna released a short, relieved breath.

Spamton sat and folded his hands in his lap, staring down at the desk. The faux confidence faded. His shoulders trembled a little.

Tenna sat in his chair and brought out the script. "So, Mike told us beforehand what the board is. It's murder mystery themed!" He grinned, and Spamton nodded along, somewhat listening. "The contestants have to find clues hidden around the board to find out who the murderer was and why. Should be fun!"

"Yeah," Spamton mumbled.

Tenna's gut twisted. "Then, the physical challenge is a shooting range, with moving targets and all of that. The quiz is random trivia about pop culture, so nothing too crazy there," he finished, then pushed the script to the side. He hesitated, then fiddled with his fingers for a moment. Spamton noticed the awkward silence and turned his head away. "Are you okay?"

Spamton grimaced. Tenna noticed the dark circles under his eyes, the redness of his cheeks, the pain and distress in his trembling lips. "I'm fine, Tenna."

"You can talk to me?" he offered, outstretching one hand for a moment before pulling it back, frowning. "I-I messed up. I'm sorry. I really didn't know, I never would have-"

"Just drop it, Tenna!" Spamton shouted, his face shading an angry red, his lips drawn up in a sneer. "I know. You're sorry. It's fine. Okay? I'm fine!" He stood from the desk, shoving the chair back a few feet as he started to pace, his hands covering his face. "I don't need your help."

Tenna stared at the desk, silent. He shrank an inch, just an inch.

But, Spamton noticed. He started to shake. He inhaled a deep breath, just barely able to calm himself. "Whatever you think happened, Tenna, it's none of your business."

Tenna nodded wordlessly.

Spamton blinked. He half-expected Tenna to be... angrier. Angry that he was yelling at him, the Mr. Ant Tenna. But, he just looked defeated. Spamton sighed. "I'm okay. That's all you need to know."

"Do you want to be on screen tonight?" Tenna asked quietly, apprehensively.

Spamton's breath hitched. He shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah. I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

Something in Spamton snapped. "Oh my god, Tenna. It's my fucking job!" he yelled, his hands curling into tight fists, his nails digging into his palms. "Let me do my fucking job, and stop badgering me!"

Tenna shrank another few inches. His screen looked dim, pale. His lips were pressed in a tight line, regretful, worried. "Okay."

Spamton's eyes burned. He stared at Tenna, who avoided looking at him completely. He could barely see his face. "I'll see you on stage, Tenna."

Then, he was gone. The door slammed behind him.

Tenna remained still, unmoving. A thousand emotions swarmed him at once. Guilt was the strongest one. Worry was next.

How could he fix this?

How could he help?

He remembered that glimmer of terror in Spamton's eyes the moment he heard Pink's voice. He shivered at the memory of Spamton slowly turning and walking back inside, his face blank, pale. The fear. The helplessness. Tenna should have snatched him by the arm and ran for the hills. He should have canceled the appointment. He should have done something.

He sank lower in his chair, his height shrinking. He could barely see over the desk.

Maybe there was something he could do. Something to help Spamton feel more comfortable at the studio.

A light bulb went off in Tenna's head, and he grew back to his original height, a grin on his face.

He could give Spamton a space of his own. A dressing room, just for him. He would have to talk to Mike about it, but there was plenty of space and open rooms for renovations. And, if he got everybody to pitch in, it would be finished in no time at all.

Tenna nodded to himself, proud at his brilliant idea. If Spamton wouldn't talk, that was perfectly alright. Tenna would just support him from the sidelines.

He paused for just a moment, a question popping into his mind.

Why did he care so much? They've only known each other for about a month at this point. Why was he going to spend thousands of dollars on a renovation for him? Why did he care so much about how he felt?

Tenna couldn't answer that. He chalked it up to just being kind, but he knew there was something deeper. Something that he wasn't ready to open and explore yet.

Nevertheless, Tenna brought out a piece of paper, and he started to sketch a layout for the dressing room. A vanity, a couch, a wardrobe, a table, a fridge, a counter. Anything that Spamton could ever want or need would be there. Snacks, comfort, silence.

Once he was satisfied with the vague plan, he reached over to the phone on his desk. He called Mike, who picked up after the first two rings.

"What's up, boss man?" Mike asked.

"I... have a problem," Tenna started. Mike hummed, signaling for him to continue. "I'm certain that you've seen Spamton today."

"Yeah," Mike said slowly, remorsefully. "He looks terrible."

"I messed up, Mike," Tenna whispered. "When we went to get our measurements taken for the suits, I-I took him to a person that... I don't even know, Mike. But, it was bad. And now- now he can't even look at me."

"You took him to Seams by Pink, didn't you?" Mike pressed. Tenna made a small noise of affirmation. "You know he's an Addison, right?"

"Well, I know that now," Tenna scoffed. "But I didn't before. He never mentioned anything about his family. I-I had barely even heard of the Addison Sales Company up until a week or so ago, when I started looking for tailors." He grimaced.

Mike sighed. "I don't think this is something you can fix, Tenna. It was a mistake, yes, but there's no point dwelling on it. Whatever happened between Spamton and the Addison family is... well, it's just his business. There isn't much you can do to help."

Tenna groaned a little and hung his head. "I know, Mike. But, I have to do something. So, I was thinking." He paused, then looked at the design plans. "I want to give him a dressing room."

Mike hummed thoughtfully. "He is your co-host. He should have one."

Tenna continued. "I want it to be special for him. I-I want it to show that he can talk to me."

"Tenna," Mike chastised gently. "You're business partners. Not friends."

"I want to be friends with him, Mike. I-I want to go out on the town with him, a-and spend time with him, and joke with him." Tenna smiled fondly. "He's the closest thing I've had to a friend since you. And I can't lose that."

Mike sighed. Tenna envisioned him pinching the bridge of his nose. "I will admit. It's been great seeing you be this happy, Tenna. You're doing better than ever, thanks to him. But, at the same time, this is dragging you down."

"Dragging me down?" Tenna's nose wrinkled. "Caring for somebody is dragging me down?"

Mike outwardly grimaced, a quiet huff of breath and a deep inhale. "I didn't mean it like that. But, you see how you're acting?"

"How did you mean it, Mike? Because I care about him, okay? That's not dragging me down. I want to make things better. Make changes. Not only to the show or the studio, but to me as well." Tenna's hand raked down his face. He let out an exasperated breath. "Please, Mike. I know you're worried, but just help me out here. I need this to work out. I need him to be... comfortable. I need him to be okay."

There was a long beat of awkward, slightly tense, silence. Then, Mike spoke again. "I'll get ready for the renovations. I'll have the Shadowguys work on it whenever we're not on air. It shouldn't take long." He hesitated. "And thanks to Spamton's advertisement additions, we have the budget for it."

Tenna grinned. "Thank you, Mike." He hung up, then leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms over his head. He stood and made his way to the door, pulling it open and stepping out with a satisfied huff. He made his way to the stage, where Spamton was fiddling with a microphone, struggling to clip it to his lapel. His hands were shaking.

Tenna made his way to him, outstretching his hands, offering help. Spamton tensed. But, after a moment, he handed the microphone to Tenna, and he easily attached it to where it needed to go. Spamton muttered a quiet thanks, then made his way to the other side of the stage. He stood in the wings, reviewing the script.

Tenna wanted to be there with him, talk with him, laugh with him. He stared after him, almost longingly, aching for any kind of friendly banter.

Spamton looked up and caught his gaze. He looked panicked for just a moment, but he settled. He offered Tenna a weak, somewhat awkward smile, a pitiful thumbs up.

Then, Tenna did something that made the world stop in its tracks.

He crossed the stage to Spamton and without a word, wrapped his arms around him.

Spamton froze, his body completely rigid. His arms dropped to his sides. His breath caught in his throat. He heaved once, twice, and small tears pricked the corners of his eyes.

Tenna felt every slight change, every minute movement. He felt Spamton's heart racing in his chest, the way he trembled, unsure, frightened, even. Spamton clutched desperately at his own wrist, nails digging into the skin below his sleeve. Tenna held him tighter.

Spamton broke. He shoved his face into Tenna's chest.

And he cried.

"I'll set up a rerun," Tenna whispered.

Spamton couldn't even nod. But, Tenna didn't need an answer. He just held him.

Tenna dreaded the phone call he was expecting. He couldn't even imagine looking at Pink's face after what he did. Tenna thought that the two weeks between the appointment and now would have eased his fury, but it didn't. It only simmered, and the moment he heard that phone ring, it boiled over.

He inhaled deeply, forcing himself to calm down. He carefully picked up the phone and held it to his ear. "Mr. Ant Tenna here."

"Hello, Mr. Tenna," Pink said cheerfully. "I have your suits all ready. If you and Spamton could come over, we can do a fitting and make any last adjustments."

Tenna grimaced. "No. I'll just be picking them up. Thank you."

Pink hummed, displeased. "Alright then. They'll be ready at the front desk for when you stop by."

Tenna placed the phone back on the receiver. He breathed. "Be professional, Ant. Be... professional." He breathed more, sucking in deep gulps of air. The anger and discomfort faded just a little. He stood from his desk and grabbed his keys from the top drawer. He started towards the exit, passing by the room they were renovating for Spamton. He smiled at it.

He was doing a great job at keeping it a secret. Spamton hardly asked anyway, so there was less pressure on him about lying. But, it was almost done. Tenna poked his head in. The Shadowguys were actually putting the finishing touches on it right then. He grinned and shot them all a thumbs up. Then, he headed to his car.

The unsettling feeling returned as Tenna started to drive to downtown Cyber City. As soon as Seams by Pink came into view, he was shaking, gripping the steering wheel like a lifeline.

"In, out, no talking," Tenna reminded himself. Then, steeling his nerves, he entered the shop.

Pink was behind the counter, folding and sorting some things. He barely looked up as Tenna approached. "Mr. Tenna, you're quite punctual."

Tenna forced a small laugh. "I'm eager to see what you've made."

Pink's smile became strained. "And you're sure you don't want to do a fitting first?"

"I'm sure," Tenna gritted his teeth.

Pink shrugged, then brought out two stacks of clothes. He patted them gently. "Thank you for your patronage, Mr. Tenna. I have no doubt you'll be satisfied."

Tenna slid a handful of bills to Pink, paying for the suits in full. He grabbed the stacks, then started to head towards the door.

"Hold on, Mr. Tenna," Pink called out after him. "One thing you should know about my baby brother."

Tenna's gut twisted at the unsettling tone. He froze in place, but did not turn towards him.

"He's a fag." Pink paused, only for dramatic effect, though. "Bad for business." Tenna could hear the cheeky grin in his voice.

Red. All Tenna saw was red. Oh, he wanted to beat this man black and fucking blue.

He inhaled sharply. "Funny. Funny you say bad for business. Real funny."

Then, he left, ignoring the twitching in his fists, the itch, the urge to punch that stupid grin off his fucking face.

Why didn't he? Why didn't he charge back in there and wail on him until he was bleeding and begging for mercy? What the fuck was stopping him?

Tenna yanked his car door open, but he gently placed the suits on the seat. He slammed the door shut. He stopped.

He could go right back in there. Give that motherfucker a piece of his mind. Give him a taste of his own blood.

Tenna took a step towards the shop. Then another. Then he was at the door.

He reached for the handle.

He couldn't.

He couldn't.

He walked to his car and sat in the driver's seat, his forehead leaning on the steering wheel.

He drove back to the studio, feeling emptier than before. But, the sight of the matching suits made his heart swell, even if they were made by someone he was, very quickly, coming to despise.

He walked back into the studio, carrying the suits back to his office. He placed them on the desk with a satisfied huff, then he went to go check on the dressing room. A Shadowguy was standing by the door, and with a grin, he opened the door for Tenna.

He took a quick look around, just to make sure everything was perfect. He nodded happily, his mind temporarily taken off of his problems. Once his quick survey was over, he rushed back to his office to call Spamton.

He picked up after a few rings. "Hello hello, Spamton G. Spamton here."

"Spamton!" Tenna said sharply, a large grin on his face. "Can you come to the studio?"

"Oh, hi Tenna." Spamton's professional tone shifted into something more light and casual, and Tenna could hear a small smile, a relieved sigh. "I'm finishing up here. Just have another interview to oversee. Shouldn't take too long."

"Incredible!" Tenna beamed. "I'll see you soon. Drive safe!"

Spamton hummed, then he hung up.

Tenna settled in his seat, staring up at the ceiling. He drank some wine to pass the time, but not too much, since he wanted to spend time with Spamton once he was done giving him his surprises. Maybe they would finally dig into that book they got a while back. Tenna grinned cheekily at that, then brought the book out from his bottom drawer and placed it neatly on the desk. He stared at it, studied the cover, the title.

He must have lost track of time, because before he knew it, there was a knock on his office door. "Come in!" he called, and Spamton pushed the door open, waving a little. Tenna quickly snatched the suits off his desk and held them behind his back.

Spamton blinked at him. "Is that-"

"In one moment!" Tenna said, then he rushed to the door, past Spamton, down the hall. Spamton followed behind, confused, like a lost puppy. Tenna quickly stood by the door labeled "BS" in fancy, bright yellow letters. "I have some surprises for you."

Spamton blinked again. "You... do?"

"Yes!" Tenna could barely contain his excitement. "Close your eyes, okay?"

Spamton shrugged, then closed his eyes. Tenna gently placed a hand on his shoulder, then carefully guided him to the door. He opened it, then walked both of them inside. He placed Spamton in the middle of the room, then took a step back. "Okay, you can open them."

Spamton slowly peeked, then his eyes were blown wide.

He stood in the middle of a beautiful dressing room.

The vanity on the back wall was covered in any kind of cosmetics that Spamton could ever want or need. The mirror was polished and pristine, the wood was smooth and sleek, shining in the light. Beside the vanity was a large black wardrobe, the doors open to reveal multiple hangers, yet no clothes.

There was a couch against another wall, with a coffee table in front of it. Magazines about cars were displayed neatly, alongside coasters and other knickknacks. The couch was plush and decorated with soft blankets and comfy pillows.

Across from the couch was a counter, covered in appliances. A coffee maker, microwave, even a small sink. There was a mini-fridge next to it, and Spamton could only imagine it was filled with snacks, or maybe whiskey.

The lights inside were dim, easy on Spamton's eyes. The only brightness that made him recoil was from the vanity, but he could easily turn those off in favor of darkness.

He spun in circle after circle, his chest growing lighter, his smile growing larger. His gaze landed on Tenna, whose hands were now outstretched, revealing a stack of clothes.

His suit.

His matching suit.

Spamton wordlessly walked up to Tenna and carefully grabbed each piece, holding them up and examining them.  

A beautiful red blazer, a tailcoat to match Tenna. Gold buttons. White gloves that clipped onto the sleeves so he couldn't lose them.

A smooth white button up, simple, but elegant and comfortable. A simple yellow tie wrapped around the neck, half-tied already.

A pair of sleek white slacks, contrary to Tenna's black ones.

The fabric was soft against his skin, easily touchable, not a nasty texture like what he was assuming it would have been. He was slightly surprised that Pink would have made it comfortable for him.

His heart sank a little. Small hints of dread and fear clouded his mind.

I'll see you ag-

"Tenna," Spamton looked up at him, tears in his eyes, his smile sloppy, but happy. "Thank you." He carefully hung the suit up in the wardrobe, keen on trying it on later. But, for the moment, he returned to Tenna. He hesitated, then slowly pushed himself between Tenna's big, warm arms. Tenna instantly embraced him, held him close to his chest, and Spamton tried to ignore the butterflies fluttering in his belly.

For once, he didn't need pain to drown out Pink's voice.

He just needed Tenna.

Chapter Text

What.

The.

Fuck.

When Tenna wrapped his arms around him, all Spamton could think was what the fuck.

He'd been standing in the wings, looking over the script, barely able to keep himself together.

He'd just yelled at Tenna, for crying out loud. He felt terrible. His gut twisted horribly. He felt like he was going to vomit.

It was going to happen. Tenna was going to break the contract. Tenna was going to dump him on the side of the road.

Pink was right.

Pink was always right.

He caught Tenna's gaze. Spamton gave a weak, awkward smile, a small thumbs up, trying to smooth things over. Trying to say, "I'm sorry, I don't hate you. Can we move on with the show?" He highly doubted that he conveyed it correctly.

Then, Tenna started approaching him.

It was happening. He was being tossed to the side. He would have to go back to Pink. He would have to-

What?

Tenna was warm. Safe. Secure. He wrapped his arms around his shoulders, pulled him close to his chest. Spamton could hear the machinery inside of him, whirring, electricity crackling quietly.

Spamton broke.

He'd cried in his arms for a good, long while.

Then, Tenna spoke softly. So softly.

Like he was afraid Spamton would shatter if he spoke too loudly, if he held too tightly, if he said the wrong thing.

He might have. He very well might have.

They stood there. Tenna was quiet, Spamton was crying into his chest. The crew avoided them, and started setting up for a rerun instead.

Then, Tenna had led Spamton back to his office. They sat there quietly, not sure of what to say to each other. Spamton couldn't even speak, his mind was still a whirlwind of emotion.

Dread. Fear. Warmth. Comfort. Pain. Guilt.

Spamton wanted to apologize. He wanted to beg for forgiveness, beg him to stay, beg him to give him another chance. He didn't. He waited for Tenna to speak, to drop him, to force him out.

But, Tenna never said anything about cutting him out. He just... gave him water, gave him time. Then, once Spamton was certain that Tenna wasn't going to fire him, he left. He went home. Tenna watched him leave, told him to drive safe, that he would see him later.

That hurt the most.

Spamton clutched his wrist. He hadn't ever bandaged himself. His shirt stuck to the wounds. No doubt, he would be picking the scabs later.

But, he didn't.

When he got home that night, he laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling, still feeling the warmth from Tenna's body, the comfort from his embrace.

Why was his heart fluttering? Why was warmth consuming the dread?

Why couldn't he hear Pink's voice?

Spamton blinked. He couldn't hear Pink's voice.

He sat up, then made his way to the bathroom. He grabbed some bandages and ointment. Then, he pulled his sleeve up.

Ugly, bloody, lint-covered splotches greeted him, sticky, hot, painful. He winced as he touched, his face scrunching up. He leaned over the sink and turned the water on, then gently washed each of the wounds. He scrubbed them clean of the lint, then carefully patted them dry with a towel. He spread some ointment on them, then covered each one with a large bandage.

It wasn't perfect. Spamton could still see the edges of a few of them.

But, it was the first time he'd ever taken care of them.

He usually picked the scabs the moment they formed, and the process would start all over again. He couldn't count the number of scars on him.

Spamton stared at himself in the mirror.

He thought of Tenna.

He saw himself smile a little.

Why?

What was so special about Tenna that he could make Spamton take care of himself? Why was he so important?

Why was Spamton so attached?

Then, Spamton shrunk a little.

He'll be disgusted at the mere thought of you.

No. No. Tenna wasn't like that. He wasn't the kind of man who would shun him, berate him, toss him aside like trash.

Tenna was kind, gentle. He was a little intense sometimes, a bit pushy, but he was never cruel or conniving. He was also dedicated. He was a passionate man, with dreams and goals that he desperately aimed to achieve. He was easy to talk to, laugh with, share drinks with.

Tenna was fun. Tenna was... lovable.

Spamton shook those thoughts away as he turned from the mirror. He fixed his sleeve, then crawled back into bed, curling into a ball under the covers, holding his hands close to his chest.

When he slept, he dreamt of Tenna.

His wide, bright smile.

His big personality.

His embrace.

His kindness.

Spamton slept well that night. And the next night, and the next.

On Friday, he gave the performance of a lifetime. Right next to Tenna. He laughed, he joked, he chatted with the contestants. He was hesitant to shake their hands, and used his uninjured arm to do so. But, nobody noticed. For that, he was grateful.

He kept close to Tenna, just a bit closer than usual. He hung out in his office, drinking, talking, planning future game shows.

He could still see the worry in Tenna's face whenever he looked at him. His smile would be strained, just a little too tight around the corners. Spamton struggled to keep himself from deflating at the sight. He wanted to show Tenna that he truly was okay.

But, he wouldn't talk about it. Tenna never brought it up, either. Spamton could tell that he wanted to, with his lips forming words, but never speaking. Spamton couldn't. He just couldn't.

What he went through with Pink, with the rest of his brothers, he didn't think he would ever be ready to talk to anybody about it.

He stared at his hands. They trembled whenever he even thought about Pink. His words. His sinister grin. The malicious glint in his eye.

Spamton was almost sucked right back into his childhood that day. For a moment, he was. He was stuck in that house, rushing to get the chores done, no matter how much his body hurt, no matter how badly he wanted to sob, or scream, or throw things at Pink's face. He remembered the eye contact the most. How Pink snatched him by the face daily, forcing it, trying to make him 'normal.'

When Tenna first embraced him, Spamton, for just a split second, felt Pink's arms around him, his voice gently cooing in his ear, coaxing him back home, sucking him into shadow.

Then, it faded.

Spamton was on the stage. Pink wasn't there. It was just Tenna.

Just Tenna.

He found himself craving his embrace more. But, he refused to give himself what he wanted. It wasn't what Tenna wanted.

Tenna had been keeping his distance, at least physically. He hesitated to touch him, to put his hand on his shoulder before walking on stage, to shake his hand in front of the audience.

Spamton wasn't sure what he wanted. He thought he wanted space. But, he craved the affection. He'd gotten a small taste of it, and he wanted more.

So, he got more.

The moment he walked into that dressing room, Spamton's heart was set.

Everything was catered to him. Tenna listened. He had dim lights in here, because of the one time Spamton mentioned his eyes being sensitive to light. He had car magazines, his favorite whiskey in the fridge, space for him to add his own personal touches.

Then, the suit.

Oh, the suit.

Spamton wanted to try it on then and there. He would wait, though. He could wait a little while longer.

But, it was perfect.

They would match. Everything would be official.

Spamton would be the co-host of Mr. Ant Tenna's TV Time.

Spamton and Tenna's TV Time.

Spamton slotted himself between Tenna's arms, his entire body trembling, unsure, afraid. He half-expected Tenna to shove him away in disgust, scoffing at the unsightly affection, the unwanted touch.

Then, Tenna wrapped his arms around him, held him just as tightly as before, perhaps even tighter.

Safe. Warm. Secure. Silent.

Spamton couldn't hear Pink. He could only hear his heartbeat in his ears, his blood rushing. His cheeks burned hot, his chest tightened, butterflies fluttered in his stomach.

The world was perfect at that moment. Nothing mattered.

Nothing mattered.

"Thank you, Tenna," Spamton said quietly, his voice cracking just a little. He sniffled, hiding his face in Tenna's chest. "Thank you."

Tenna's hand rested atop his head, his fingers gently carding through his hair for just a moment. Then, he froze, unsure if he was allowed to continue. When Spamton didn't pull away, his hand returned to his hair.

They stayed that way for a while, ever so slightly swaying, the emotions bearing down heavily on them. Spamton couldn't speak. His throat clenched any time he tried. He knew that if he forced it, he would break down crying. So, he stayed quiet.

Tenna only held him closer.

Spamton pulled away and wiped his face, then started to look over the dressing room again, laughing a little. "It's incredible, Tenna. This is what you've been keeping secret?"

Tenna nodded. "You're my co-host. It's only fair you have a space of your own here. And I can get anything else you want. Furniture, snacks, literally anything."

Spamton chuckled again, his smile growing wider. Then, he peeked at the wardrobe again. "I want to try on the suit. Go get yours."

Tenna's smile turned wobbly. "I also have the pins made. They're in my office."

Spamton grinned, and Tenna turned and left. He shut the door behind him, and Spamton's entire body released all the tension in his muscles. He sank to the floor, overwhelmed, but happy nonetheless. For a moment, he wanted to sob.

Tenna was... perfect. Why was he so perfect? And attentive? And nice? Genuinely nice with no want for anything in return? What the hell was he playing at? He had to want something from him, there was no way he was this nice for no reason.

But, that was just it. Tenna was that nice for no reason. Spamton saw it the moment he laid eyes on him at the bar, over a month ago at this point. He was a desperate man, trying his best to stay afloat, and while he wanted help, he didn't ask for all that much. He was considerate, understanding, patient. Spamton had been struggling to find a manager for his own business, and had apologized to Tenna about the delay, but he only waved his hand dismissively and said it was no problem. He didn't mind waiting. As long as Spamton was there on Fridays, he didn't care how long it took.

He stood on unsteady legs, smiling sloppily as he made his way to the wardrobe. He shed his current attire, then started to get dressed.

The suit slid on perfectly. It was comfortable, breathable, a soft fabric that Spamton could tolerate, even enjoy. He stood in front of the vanity, adjusting the sleeves, tying his tie, slipping on the gloves.

He slicked his hair back, gave himself finger guns with a confident click of his tongue. "Lookin' good, hot shot." He grinned.

Then, there was a knock on the door. He fixed his lapel and called out, "Come in."

The door was pushed open, and Tenna stepped inside. He was dressed in his own suit. Looking at him now, Spamton could notice the slight differences between the new and old. His old suit had lost some color over the years. The gold on the buttons had faded, tarnished, and some of the hems were frayed. But, the new jacket was sharp and pristine, with flashing gold, eye-catching red, perfect.

Tenna held two golden pins, a grin on his face. He crossed over to the vanity, set the TV one down for now, but held onto the BS. Spamton turned to him, smiling. Tenna leaned down and carefully secured the pin to Spamton's lapel, then smoothed down his jacket with a satisfied huff.

"Well, it's official," Tenna said.

Spamton desperately fought the urge to fall into his embrace again. Instead, he turned toward the vanity. Tenna stood behind him, admiring both of their reflections.

Two confident big shots stared back at them, with bright smiles, an air of security. The contract had just been a formality. But, it truly was official now.

Spamton had his own dressing room, a matching suit, a pin that signified his role in the show.

He was a big shot, and he had been for a long time. But now, it felt true. It felt real.

Nothing could touch him. Nobody could hurt him. They would have to get through Tenna, first. That made Spamton's heart flutter.

He wanted to squash that feeling, to feel ashamed for even thinking about Tenna in that regard. But, it was true.

As Tenna stood behind him, he carefully placed a hand on his shoulder, caring and supportive.

Words bubbled up in Spamton's throat. He shifted his gaze away from the mirror, and Tenna's hand slipped off his shoulder. Spamton let out a quick sigh. "Really, Tenna. Thank you. And... I'm sorry."

Tenna paused and frowned a little. "There's nothing for you to apologize for, Spamton."

"I yelled at you," his voice broke, and a few small tears welled up in his eyes. "And you've been nothing but kind to me, a-and you shouldn't be, because I-I-"

"There's nothing for you to apologize for," Tenna repeated firmly. "I don't need to know. I don't want to force you to talk to me. But, you're my friend, Spamton." Spamton's breath hitched. Tenna continued. "You mean something to me. This past month has been incredible because of you. I want you to understand that. And I know you're going through something that I-I can't even begin to understand. But, I'm here. I'm here."

Spamton trembled. "Friends, huh?"

Tenna shrank a little. "If you... wanted to be?"

He chuckled lightly. "It's been a while since I've had a real friend," he whispered under his breath, silently hoping that Tenna couldn't hear. Tenna reacted a little, his face got a little softer, his hands wanted to reach out, but hesitated. "I'd like that."

Tenna's shoulders relaxed, and he let out a sigh of relief. After a moment, a grin spread across his face. "Wanna read Lovers Mountain?" he asked.

Spamton huffed an amused breath out of his nose, then he started to laugh. "Yeah, Tenna. Let's read Lovers Mountain."

Chapter Text

Matching Tenna on screen was everything that had Spamton wanted. Walking out onto the stage was like a dream come true. He could feel the shift of the crowd as they noticed the same red blazers, the shining golden pins, the synchronized steps. They cheered louder, whistling, hooting, hollering. Their excitement was palpable. Spamton choked up a little as he stared up at Tenna, his grin as bright as the spotlights.

"Good evening, ladies, gentlemen, and all those in between! Welcome to Spamton and Tenna's TV Time!" Tenna announced, sweeping his arm to the side, presenting Spamton. A spotlight shone down on him, illuminating him. His confidence swelled. He walked to the front of the stage, waving, pointing, showing off his brand new suit.

The change. Not only of the title, but the atmosphere as well. It made Spamton's eyes well up with tears.

The stage welcomed him with open arms, embracing him warmly, wiping away all his stress, all his fear.

Spamton wanted it to last forever.

The end of the show was loud, boisterous, rowdy. The audience cheered as Spamton signed the night off with a flourish. Then, he and Tenna waved, and the lights shut off.

Spamton let out a hefty sigh, dropped his arm, then stole a glance at Tenna. He was grinning ear-to-ear, and he caught Spamton's gaze. His face softened.

"How was it?" Tenna asked, gesturing to the suit.

"It was great," Spamton smiled. "Not restrictive, like what I was afraid of." He demonstrated by stretching his arms high over his head, and the jacket moved fluidly with him. "I don't feel as sweaty as I used to." He chuckled at that. Then, he looked deep into Tenna's face. "Bar?"

Tenna grinned. "You know me too well."

Spamton happily unclipped the microphone on his lapel, then walked backstage and placed it on a table. Tenna followed behind, undoing his tie as he made his way to the green room. "I'll drive," Spamton said. Tenna nodded.

They finished up at the studio, sorting a few things, making sure Mike had the rest handled. Then, they climbed into Spamton's car. Tenna had to shrink quite a bit to fit comfortably inside, but he didn't mind.

"I don't think I've been inside a Cungadero before," he remarked.

"Oh, really?" Spamton's eyes twinkled.

"Tell me about it," Tenna said, and Spamton's lips curled into a wobbly smile.

He started the car, and it gently purred to life, the rumbling soothing, quiet, smooth. Spamton flicked on the headlights, bright enough to see well, but not enough to impede other drivers. As he drove, he rambled on and on about the features and how they were designed. He brought up some of his own pet peeves when it came to cars, and how he fixed them with the Cungadero. Mainly, the noise.

Spamton was right. The Cungadero was the quietest car you'll never hear. Tenna barely noticed when he accelerated. It wasn't jarring, it didn't rock him back and forth. They glided through intersections, down city streets, and gracefully parked in the bar parking lot.

Tenna got out and returned to his full height, which made Spamton take notice. He chuckled a little. "Do you always shrink when you drive, Tenna?"

"Cars aren't built for ten-foot tall people, Spamton," he said. "They're much more accommodating for six feet. My legs are far too long."

Spamton hummed. "Interesting."

"And what's so interesting about that?" Tenna asked as they walked into the bar.

"Nothing! Nothing at all, big guy," Spamton waved his hand dismissively, then strolled right up to the bar and ordered them a round of drinks. Top shelf wine for Tenna, top shelf whiskey for himself. They found a table and sat, perfectly content in their own little world. Spamton took off his jacket and folded it neatly beside him, then started to roll up his sleeves past his elbows.

The moment the bandages were visible, he froze. His face went pale. His eyes blew wide. His stomach churned. His head jerked to Tenna, whose gaze flickered along his wrist for just a moment.

Spamton yanked his arm off the table and quickly pulled the sleeves down.

Tenna said nothing.

"You know, I've been thinking," he spoke up after a long moment. Spamton's blood ran cold. "We should make a poster. For our collaboration."

Spamton blinked. "Poster?" The tension in his body eased a little, and he tentatively took a drink of his whiskey.

"Yeah!" Tenna grinned. "I've had the same once since I started. It's super old, and we've upgraded quite a bit. So! We should have an updated poster!" He grabbed his notepad from his pocket, then set it on the table and started to sketch. "I'm thinking we're on opposite sides, pointing to each other." He drew two stick figures in the position he was describing. "Microphones here," he drew a microphone in each of their hands, held up to their mouths. "Show off the pins as well!" He drew a circle on each of their chests, representing the pins.

As he drew, Spamton's shoulders relaxed. He fiddled with the hem of his sleeve, his nails slightly dug into his skin. He sent a few nervous glances to Tenna, but he never once looked at his arm. He was focused on the drawings, blissfully unaware. Or, he was ignoring it for Spamton's sake.

Spamton exhaled slowly, and another drink of whiskey settled the worry pooling in his gut. He brought himself back to reality, and nodded towards Tenna. He studied the drawing closer, and a smile spread across his lips. "I like it. I really like it."

"Really? Because I just thought of that off the top of my head. But, mirror images, you know? We're like opposites, and opposites attract!" Tenna patted the notepad twice, pride written all over his face. "I'll talk to Mike, and we can get it set up for sometime this week!"

Spamton nodded again. "Oh, how have the advertisements been working out?"

"Wonderfully," Tenna said, his gaze softening a little. "It's greatly increased our budget, so we can do bigger and better things! I'm thinking of remodeling some of the studio. The green room could use some work, and we can add some other things for the rest of the crew. More break rooms and such. The stage could use some new things as well. The light fixtures aren't what they used to be."

Spamton hummed. "See? Aren't you glad you got me to take good care of you?"

As soon as the words left his mouth, his face erupted in a furious blush. He coughed, then snatched his whiskey and downed the entire glass. "I'm getting another!" he announced before rushing over to the bar, stumbling over his own feet.

Tenna stared after him, flustered. Flattered? Confused, maybe? But, nonetheless, he smiled. He felt an odd sensation in his heart, one that he'd been feeling a lot more these past two weeks. Ever since that first embrace, Tenna had been wanting to hug him more. He wanted to tell him that everything was okay, that things would work out. He didn't know if his words would mean anything, but he wanted to say them anyway.

To his surprise, Spamton had been doing better since that day. He opened up a little, let himself be sad in front of him, let himself be a bit more vulnerable. It was like something clicked in his brain, and he, metaphorically, clung to Tenna like a lifeline.

Then, the second embrace in the dressing room. Something felt different about that one. Maybe it was the circumstances. Spamton hadn't been on the brink of tears, at least not ones of distress or sadness. The way he perfectly melded into Tenna's arms made him feel warm on the inside, made his heart flutter. It was like they were carved out of the same stone, made to perfectly fit together, no matter how long they were apart.

Tenna blushed at that.

Was he-?

No.

There was no way.

Spamton brought back two more glasses of whiskey, quickly chugging one, hoping to blame the red on his cheeks on the sudden onslaught of alcohol. He sank back into his chair, huffing out a huge breath. "So! Uh! Poster! Yeah." He coughed again into his hand. "Really good idea."

Tenna chuckled, pushing aside his thoughts, silently berating himself for even thinking of Spamton in that regard. "Is there anything you wanted to add? Any special touches?"

Spamton thought for a moment. "One spotlight overhead, not two. One big enough for both of us."

"Ah, subtle imagery, you're so right," Tenna clicked his pen, then wrote down a few notes on a separate piece of paper.

"Uh, oh! We should make limited edition ones as well, that people can buy before or after the show," he grinned. "Signed."

Tenna gasped. "You know how much that would make, Spammy?"

"Thousands!" Spamton agreed cheerfully as he took another drink of whiskey. "Gold marker. My signature in my corner, yours in your corner." He gestured for the notepad, and Tenna happily handed it over. He signed his full name with a flourish. It was neat cursive, easily readable, but still distinguishable and iconic.

He passed it back to Tenna, who wrote his signature with more pizzazz. Large letters, all caps, and the 'A's were shaped like stars. They grinned at each other, then started to laugh a little.

"God, if you told me last month that this is where I would be?" Spamton said, stretching his arms over his head, relaxing and leaning backwards. "I would have called you stupid."

"If you told me that this is where I would be?" Tenna sighed happily. "I wouldn't have believed you." He paused for a moment. "Why don't you do... uh, contracts, and all that?"

Spamton thought for a moment, his face pulling up into a slight frown. He leaned his elbows on the table and shrugged. "I tried a while ago. A long time ago. The man I had it with wanted too much, took too much. It actually almost sunk me." He grimaced. "Then uh." His eyes unfocused. "My brothers." He hesitated and turned his face away.

Tenna drank his wine, slightly regretting saying anything in the first place.

Before the awkward silence stretched for too long, Spamton clapped his hands together. "But! Enough about that. Just bad experiences, and all. But, you intrigued me, Tenna. I don't think I've ever had somebody be that honest with me."

Tenna shrugged haphazardly, but lightheartedly. "Well, you saw how it was."

Spamton nodded once. "I saw how it was."

Tenna held back a sniffle, instead drinking more wine. "I... really can't believe it, sometimes. How much changed just from one person."

"I can," Spamton said. "One person, just one person, can change so many things. For better or for... worse." He wrinkled his nose. "But, I think it's something that we both needed."

Tenna hummed in agreement. "It's hard to imagine you struggling with anything business-wise."

Spamton chuckled. "I have it all put together, don't I?"

"Very much so," Tenna said. "Not a thing out of place. You have structure, routine. You're dedicated and professional."

"Now you're just flattering me," Spamton fanned his face, feigning fluster. "You tryin' something here, Mr. Tenna?" He grinned knowingly, and Tenna could help but smile back.

"Maybe I am, Mr. Spamton," he leaned forward, reaching a hand out to pat the back of Spamton's hand.

The touch felt like fire on his skin, burning in a helplessly pleasant way. Spamton laughed a little awkwardly, and slowly drew his hand back. "So forward."

What the hell was he doing?

Tenna relaxed in his seat, taking to his wine, blaming the lack of inhibitions on his alcohol. He went to apologize, but he noticed the spatter of blush on Spamton's cheeks. He vehemently ignored it, also blaming it on the alcohol.

A beat of silence passed.

"So," Spamton forced his voice not to crack, but it was clearly on the brink. He cleared his throat. "Seriously. I-I still haven't figured it out. What's with the 'ass' thing?"

Tenna sputtered, nearly choking on his wine. "L-like I said!" he squeaked out. "Just an inside joke. Nothing- nothing at all."

Spamton's lips split into a cheeky grin. He pointed directly at Tenna's face. "Are you an ass man, Tenna?"

"I am nothing of the sort!" he shrieked, slamming his fist on the table as his screen flushed a bright red.

"HA!" Spamton shouted triumphantly. "I knew it!"

"No," Tenna mumbled, crossing his arms and huffing haughtily. "I am not an ass man."

"So, what do you like?" Spamton pressed, half joking, half genuinely asking. Then, he paused. "Ah. Is that too personal?"

Tenna released a breath, and the color on his cheeks dwindled to a lighter pink. "No, no. I don't think it's too personal. I'm also relatively open about it. I'm gay."

Spamton blinked. Then again. "You're... what?"

Tenna smiled softly. "I'm gay, Spamton. Could you not tell?"

"No- I- uh- I'm... I'm not very good at reading people," Spamton admitted, tilting his head down to stare at the table.

"You seem to read me perfectly fine," Tenna said, a bit confused. "You picked up on me hating whiskey."

Spamton flushed a little. "I-I did, didn't I?"

"You remembered the wine, too."

Spamton looked away. "Yeah."

"And the books."

Spamton twiddled his thumbs. "I don't like to assume."

Tenna nodded. "Understandable. But, I'm an open book. You can ask me anything if you want to."

Spamton smiled at that. "You're pretty observant too, aren't you? You remember all the little things."

"Only the things that matter," Tenna waved his hand.

Spamton's eyes widened a little at that, then settled back to a comfortable half-lidded position. He sipped his whiskey. "I'm..."

Tenna paused, listening.

"I'm glad you told me, Tenna. That's really cool of you, to be so open about that." Spamton bit his bottom lip, clearly wanting to say more, but he couldn't.

Tenna didn't press. Spamton was a little confused on why, though. Why not ask the same question? Was he not curious? Or was Spamton obvious?

Was Spamton obvious?

That made him anxious. Did people look at him and see a-

"I'm gay, too," Spamton blurted. His eyebrows furrowed.

Had he really just said that? Why?

Why? 

Why did Tenna make all his walls crumble? Why did he make him feel so comfortable? So safe?

Why did he want to bury himself in his arms and never see the light of day again?

"Thanks for telling me, Spamton." Tenna's hand was on his, his thumb gently stroking, offering support, but not daring to cross a line. "That's very brave of you."

Spamton blinked away a tear. He kept his hand on the table, safely underneath Tenna's. "Yeah- well. It's just-" He pursed his lips. "Not something I say a lot."

"You had me fooled," Tenna joked a bit. "From the look of you, you're a total ladies' man."

A wave of relief crashed over him. "Oh, really, now?" He grinned.

Tenna chuckled. "I assumed you would be drowning in ladies, Spamton. You see how people fawn over you? Just breathing in the same air as you has people going crazy."

"People? Not just women?" Spamton rested his chin in his hand, then leaned his elbow on the table. "So, how about you, Tenna? You goin' crazy?"

What the actual fuck was he saying?

Why was Tenna going along with it?

He had to be fucking with him. He had to be joking.

This was a joke. Right?

Tenna, stunned for just a moment, settled back into his relaxed confidence. "Well, I dunno yet."

Spamton snorted. "Yeah. Sure."

"So, how about I get closer to find out?"

Time stopped in that moment. The air between them hung heavy, the question even heavier. It was a tense moment. It felt like it stretched on for eternity. The glint on his screen, teasing, joking. 

Was he joking?

Was he serious?

No. He had to be joking.

He was joking! Laugh, Spamton! He was joking!

Spamton stared at him. He chuckled nervously. "Eh-"

Tenna drew back immediately. "Sorry, sorry, that was too much, wasn't it? Just a joke! Ha! Ha!" he cleared his throat. "Well. Best be off. Nice night. Don't want it to go to waste. Uh. Good air. Outside. Uhm."

He hurriedly stood and chugged the rest of his wine. His body was stiff, his face burning red, embarrassed, flustered. He quickly made his way to the entrance of the bar, leaving without so much as a second glance back at Spamton.

Baffled, Spamton watched him leave.

What the fuck just happened?

Tenna sat in the back of a taxi, his leg bouncing uncontrollably. He wrung his hands, glaring down at them. He was going to bash his head against the fucking window.

What the fuck?

What the fuck?

Oh god, Spamton was going to think he's weird, awkward, can't read the room, stupid, dumb, stupid idiot! He buried his face in his hands, not caring that he was getting an odd look from the taxi driver.

That was it. That was it! Tenna was dead. He was just dead. He was dead from embarrassment. He could never see Spamton again. He could never show his face again. If he did, he didn't know what would happen.

Spamton was going to laugh at him, ridicule him, tell the whole world how stupid and dumb he was.

Oh, but he couldn't shake the memory of the look in his eyes.

Wide, surprised, but deep within, something else. Intrigued? Curious?

Tenna shoved that thought away.

No, he was overthinking things.

He'd crossed multiple boundaries that night. He needed to take a step back.

Spamton was probably uncomfortable now, probably wouldn't get anywhere near him for the foreseeable future.

Tenna sighed and leaned against the car door, screaming internally.

The driver pulled into his driveway, and Tenna promptly paid him before heading into his house. He yanked his shoes off, tossing them wherever, then he collapsed to the couch.

Groaning, Tenna shoved his face into a pillow.

Did he really just say all of that? Did he seriously just try to flirt with his co-host, his friend, Spamton?

Tenna felt like shit.

After everything he put Spamton through, he had to go and fuck up their progress by making a few stupid, dumb comments. Ones that he... he meant. He wasn't joking.

He really wanted to be closer to him. Not just in proximity, although the thought of that made his heart flutter. But, to be more than friends.

Tenna's throat clenched, and he bit back a sob.

He fucked up. He needed to apologize. He needed to assure him that it wouldn't happen ever again, that he was sorry he ever crossed his boundaries, that he would give him all the space he needed.

He was drunk. He probably couldn't recite the alphabet if he tried. He should wait until tomorrow. Maybe Spamton was drunk too, and he would forget!

No. Spamton never forgot. Even the littlest things, he never forgot them. There was no way he would forget Tenna's words.

Dread pooled in his stomach. Tenna cried harder into the pillow and curled himself up into a tight ball, shrinking rapidly.

Half his size, a quarter, an eighth, all the way down to the smallest he could be. So small that he could easily fit into someone's palm.

God, he wanted Spamton to hold him.

There it was again! His stupid brain making him think stupid thoughts!

He needed a drink.

Tenna forced himself to grow, at least a little bit, so he could actually reach things from cabinets. Lucky for him, his liquor cabinet was low to the ground. He grabbed an unopened bottle of whiskey and took it back to the couch. He didn't even bother pacing himself.

Before he knew it, his brain was foggy, his heart was hammering in his chest, and the bottle was half-empty. He felt like every nerve was on fire. He rolled over onto his side. Vomit pooled in the back of his throat. He swallowed it down with a groan, then screwed the lid onto the bottle and tossed it to the floor.

Shivering, he huddled under a blanket on the couch. He blacked out, not quite awake, not quite asleep. He dreamt of Spamton. He wiped away all his stress with a kiss to his forehead, a quiet whisper that Tenna couldn't hear over the ringing in his ears.

He was in love, wasn't he?

Yeah. He was in love.

But, he couldn't have what he wanted.

Barely soothed by the gentle strokes on his face, Tenna cried himself to sleep.

Chapter Text

Spamton was confused to say the least. What had started out as an unfortunate slip of the tongue ended in Tenna trying to flirt, freaking out, and rushing out of the bar, face beet red. Spamton could only stare after him in disbelief, mouth agape, wondering where the joke ended, or if he even was a joke!

Did friends casually joke like that? Pretend to flirt, then get flustered and leave? Spamton had no clue. All of the friends he'd had before really only seemed interested in his money, and never got the chance to be that casual around him.

With Tenna, it was new. Strange, weird, a bit awkward, but Spamton found himself smiling in the direction that Tenna ran off to. He huffed a quiet laugh, then turned back to the table, back to his whiskey. He finished that glass, then went over to the bar to pay for all their drinks. He sat back at the table with some water instead. He wasn't keen on leaving his car at another bar overnight, so he wanted to sober up a bit.

He sat there for a long while, quiet, thinking, trying to rationalize.

He did like Tenna. He really liked Tenna. His heart fluttered whenever he thought of him. He ached for his embrace every time he was near him. He scolded himself for constantly wanting more, but he couldn't help himself. Everything about Tenna was something that Spamton wanted.

God, the pain in Spamton's heart was unbearable.

And Tenna was gay? That only made things worse.

Spamton had always been afraid of his sexuality. When he was a teenager, there was this guy at the mechanic shop he had a crush on. He was a bit older than Spamton, probably seventeen or so. He was tall and muscled, but not bulky or hefty. He was strong and confident, could carry two tires under his arms without breaking a sweat. Spamton had wanted so desperately to talk to him, to get to know him, and maybe, possibly, be crushed between his biceps like a watermelon.

He'd brought it up to Orange one night, when things were quiet, and the rest of his brothers weren't home. They sat in the living room, talking for a long while about miscellaneous things. Then, Spamton brought it up.

The moment that Orange heard that he liked a man, he was furious. His eyes went wide and bloodshot, and he glared daggers at him, yelled, pushed, berated him.

"You can't like men, White. You're fucked up enough already. You don't need anything else to be ashamed about."

Spamton stared blankly up at him, tears in his eyes, his face burning with shame and embarrassment. He'd thought that Orange was fine to talk to. He'd always been somewhat nice, and he tried his best to listen for most things. But, Spamton was wrong.

"Don't tell Pink," Spamton had whispered pitifully.

Orange had scoffed in his face, then snatched him by the arm and shoved him to the stairs. "Go to your room, White. Pink and I have a lot to talk about."

"Please! Don't tell Pink!" Spamton had sobbed, but Orange continued to push him up the stairs, then eventually slammed his door shut and stomped away.

He told Pink, and he was more livid than Spamton could ever imagine, but he hid it well behind soft words and condescension. The conversation was quiet. Spamton was shuddering and sobbing, while Pink held him by the face, nails digging into the skin behind his jaw, forcing eye contact.

"You do not like men, White," he'd said, taking him into his arms and kissing his forehead. He rocked him back and forth, holding him so tightly that he couldn't escape even if he fought like hell. "You don't. Tell me that you don't."

"I-I don't, I really really don't!" Spamton had wailed into his shoulder, clutching his shirt, trying so desperately to appease him. "Please, believe me! I don't!"

"There we go. You're just confused. It's normal for people to be confused. But, White," he'd lowered his voice and tightened his grip. "You will never speak of this again. You hear me? Not to me. Not to Orange. Not to anybody."

And Spamton hadn't. For years, he never said a word. The boy from the mechanic shop never noticed him, never even bothered to look. Then, he'd moved away.

Spamton was left dazed, confused, humiliated. His brothers never looked at him the same. There was more malice behind their eyes, and a twisted satisfaction that made him feel small, dwindling him down until he was nothing. Yellow and Blue took it upon themselves to ridicule him for it, calling him fag and sissy whenever they caught him glancing at another boy. They made sure to be loud enough where someone else could hear, and they laughed at him when he started to cry.

Orange tried to care, or at least pretended to. But, he eventually got angry with Spamton, and demanded why he never opened up to them anymore. He could only stare at him, a look of agony on his face. Did they seriously forget? Or were they just pretending?

Spamton sighed as he finished his glass of water. He pursed his lips, then glanced at the bandages hidden under his sleeve. He thought of Tenna. He smiled a little, but there was dread filling his heart.

Tenna knew, now. He was the only person aside from his brothers that knew how he truly felt. But, he wasn't disgusted or repulsed. He hardly even seemed surprised. Either he'd already suspected, or he just had a really good poker face.

Spamton's blood ran cold.

Or, he already knew.

Pink.

Spamton was going to be sick. Tenna had gone back, because he'd needed to pick up the suits. Pink could have said anything! He could have told Tenna, he could have told him about-

Spamton slapped a hand over his mouth as vomit pooled in the back of his throat. He swallowed hard, then abandoned the table and rushed to the bathroom. He barely made it to one of the toilets before he vomited. He was lightheaded and dizzy, his stomach was churning and twisting into knots.

Pink told him. Pink told him everything.

Spamton sat against the wall, drawing his legs up to his chest and hugging him, tucking his face between his knees. He clenched his teeth so hard that his jaw started to ache. He felt like sobbing, but no tears left his eyes. He was left heaving, spiraling, his mind going fuzzy and his limbs going numb.

No. No. Tenna wouldn't listen to him. He wouldn't do that to me.

Spamton's nails raked against his skin, itching. They dug deeper as he started to scratch his other arm.

Then, he stopped.

He dropped his hands to the floor, then slowly brought himself to his feet. He exited the stall and headed to the sink. He turned on the water, then splashed some on his face, cleaning the corners of his mouth. He rinsed out the taste of vomit, coughing a little as he did so. He stared at himself in the mirror.

He looked tired. Dark circles under his eyes, his cheeks a little gaunt, his skin a little too pale. He thought for a moment he was losing weight. Maybe he was. Ever since that day at Pink's shop, he hadn't felt that hungry, only really eating small bits for breakfast, and maybe a snack or two throughout the day. He should eat more. He should sleep more. He should take care of himself. For Tenna's sake.

What?

Why for Tenna's sake?

But, it seemed so simple. He made Tenna smile, and he found that his smile was all that mattered to him.

What the fuck was his problem? He barely knew this guy! He was just a guy.

But no, he wasn't.

Tenna brought out the best in Spamton. His passion for his cars, his dedication to his projects, his love for the stage. He made his walls crumble, made him feel safe and warm and appreciated. It had been a long time since Spamton felt appreciated. Tenna drew out his thoughts and feelings, and he actually cared about them. He remembered little things, and it made Spamton's heart swell.

And now, Tenna knew one of the secrets he kept closest to his chest. Just because Spamton wanted him to know. Not because he needed to prove anything, but because he wanted to relate to Tenna just a little bit more.

The moment those words left his mouth, he felt Tenna's gaze shift, just a little. Instead of the joking glint from earlier, he looked kind and thoughtful, with a hint of understanding and knowing.

Oh, and then he had to grab his hand and start soothing him. Spamton wanted to break down and cry, maybe throw himself into his arms, maybe ask him to hug him so tight that his eyes popped out from his skull.

He wondered how it would feel to be crushed under-

No! Bad! Bad thoughts! Spamton reprimanded himself with a scowl.

He left the bathroom and headed back to the table. He didn't sit. Instead, he stood still in hesitation. Then, he sighed and grabbed his coat. He fumbled for his keys, then headed out to his car. He tossed his things into the passenger seat, then started the car and drove home.

As he climbed into bed, more dread filled his heart.

What would he say to Tenna tomorrow? Would they even talk about what happened at the bar? Spamton couldn't even begin to fathom what that conversation would be like.

An idea popped into his head.

If Tenna brought it up, trying to apologize for it, Spamton would pretend that he was too drunk to remember. It was genius!

But, what if Tenna brought it up, trying to start it up again? Would Spamton go along? Flirt back? Go back to his house? Drink? Would they-

Oh, fuck.

Just the thought of seeing Tenna's bedroom made Spamton's mind race. He curled into a ball under his blankets, desperately trying to ignore the growing pressure in his cock, pressing up against the fabric of his sleep shorts.

Fuck.

Blinded by desire, Spamton's hand trailed down his body. He winced as his fingertips grazed along his cock. He bit back a whimper and shoved his face into the pillow as he slowly pulled his shorts and boxers down. He gasped lightly as his hand wrapped around his cock.

Fuck.

"So, how about I get closer to find out?"

Tenna's hands on him, lightly holding his shoulders, his face drawing near. His breath smelled of wine, his lips warm to the touch. Spamton pressed up into the kiss, and Tenna moaned into his mouth, his hips rocking forwards, aching, wanting, needing attention. Tenna laid on his back, his shirt unbuttoned and open, his pants unzipped and pulled down. Undressed, but not fully. His chest rose and fell rapidly, his heart racing, his screen flushing a bright red.

Spamton took his time unraveling him. He kissed down his chest, his hands smoothing down over every dip and curve. Tenna was a machine, wasn't he? Spamton wondered if he had panels, if he had wires hiding beneath his skin. He wondered if he could pull them, if it would feel good to yank them, stroke them, kiss them. He turned his attention to Tenna's cock with a grin.

Fuck.

His cock was massive. Spamton wrapped his hand around it and stroked as his other hand prodded at Tenna's asshole, fluttering with want. He pressed a careful finger inside, then started to fuck him in earnest. He worked his way up to four fingers in no time. Tenna took him perfectly, moaning and begging and pleading for more.

Spamton cried out as his hand sped up in tandem with the fantasy. His teeth latched onto the pillow, trying so desperately to quiet himself. He could feel his heart in his throat, could hear blood rushing in his ears. The blankets shuffled around him as he trembled and jerked with every smooth glide of his hand along his cock.

Spamton sank his cock deep into Tenna's asshole, and he groaned as he bottomed out. Tenna's screen flickered and glitched as he heaved. Spamton leaned over and captured his lips in a kiss, stealing his air as he started to buck his hips. Tenna moaned louder, whimpering, "Please, please, please!" Spamton gave him what he wanted. He shifted to a different position, then started to fuck him, deep and raw, fueled with nothing but lust and desire.

Heat pooled in Spamton's gut. For a moment, he felt Tenna's hands on him, his lips kissing him, urging him to cum. And, he did. With a gasp and a shuddering sigh, Spamton came all over the blankets. He heaved a few times as his body settled, his racing mind calmed by the onslaught of pleasure.

Then, it hit him.

What the fuck had he just done?

Spamton was never one to masturbate, and certainly not to other people. He'd never had somebody else on his mind while he indulged. Just baseless want, a random need for friction or release.

Why was Tenna fucking up his entire life? And why was it in the best way possible?

Spamton groaned as he came to his senses, his body sweaty, his hands and blankets sticky with cum. He sat up and tossed the blankets to the side, wiping his hands on them. He made his way to the bathroom and washed his hands, then grabbed a towel and cleaned himself up. He took the blankets and sheets off his bed, tossing them into a laundry basket for later. He grabbed some new boxers and shorts, a different blanket, then settled in once again.

Shame.

Overwhelming shame.

How could he ever look at Tenna again? How the hell would he be able to look him in the eyes and perform next to him?

He sighed as guilt twisted in his gut.

No matter what happened tomorrow, Spamton would pretend he forgot everything the last night. He couldn't do that to Tenna. He couldn't embarrass him like that, or allow himself to be part of his life like that. He just couldn't.

No matter how badly he wanted it.

Tenna was avoiding Spamton. Vehemently avoiding him. Any time he saw Spamton in a room, he would turn right around and march away, right to his office, where he locked the door and huddled in the corner.

He needed to talk to him. He needed to apologize.

What he'd done last night was selfish and stupid. The boundaries he broke would take so much time to mend. He knew that he needed to apologize as soon as possible, but he couldn't bear the sight of his face. He was ashamed, so ashamed. He felt sick every time he thought about it. Nothing he did helped. He tried reading, but he only wanted to read Lovers Mountain, so that was out of the question. He tried sketching, but all he ever wanted to draw was the poster idea, so that was out of the question. He even tried brainstorming new ideas! But that led to him wanting to talk over them with Spamton, so that was out of the question as well!

Tenna was defeated. He shrank down to half his size as he pouted like a sad child in the corner. He picked at the dirt on his shoes, frowning, angry, embarrassed.

There came a ring from the phone on his desk. He groaned and forced himself to stand, then went over to his desk to answer it. "Hello hello, Mr. Ant Tenna."

"Just Mike," Mike said. Tenna sighed, relieved. "You alright today, Tenna?"

"No, Mike. Not really," he admitted. "But! Since you called, I have some ideas to pitch."

Mike hesitated. "You're not gonna... let me know the problem?"

"Psh, noooooo, it's for me to work out on my own," Tenna waved his hand dismissively as he chuckled nervously. "Eh- anyway! So, Spamton and I were thinking about more ways to promote the show, and how things have changed! First thing is, a new poster! We already have an idea set up, I got a sketch that I can send you. Just need a photographer and an editor to make it work."

"Mh-hm, yeah, I can do that," Mike mumbled as he took notes. "How are things with you and Spamton? Noticed you two hanging out last night. Must be better, huh?"

Tenna winced. "Uh. Yeah. Sure. Better. But, another thing I was thinking about-"

"Tenna, I can hear you lying straight to my face," Mike chastised. "Spill."

He hesitated, then with an exasperated groan, he started to ramble. "I fucked up last night, okay?! I was happy that he wanted to hang out with me again, a-and we went to the bar, and I was a little tipsy, and I told him I was gay, and he said he was gay, and I was so relieved, and so I stupidly started to flirt with him, and he kinda flirted back, but I swear he was joking! And I crossed a line, and made him uncomfortable, and how he hates me and can't even look at me! And I'm in love with him, Mike! I-I know I can't be, I shouldn't be, but I am! I really am! And it's a problem! And I can't handle it! And he looks at me with his wide eyes, and he wants me to hug him, a-and I want to hug him, and tell him that it's okay, but- UGH!" He cut himself off with a loud groan, and slumped over on his desk. "What the hell do I do, Mike?"

Mike clicked his tongue, surprised. "That's... a lot, Tenna."

"No fucking shit!"

"How do you know he hates you?"

Tenna paused. "Be-because I crossed a boundary, and he just..."

"Has he told you?"

"...no."

Mike sighed. "Have you even talked to him yet today?"

"...not yet."

Tenna could imagine Mike pinching the bridge of his nose, inhaling a deep breath to calm himself. "Talk to him, Tenna. Please? For my sake?"

"I can't," he said quietly. He dragged his nail along the desk, drawing an invisible picture. "I don't think I want to know if he hates me or not."

"He might like you, Tenna. As middle-school as it sounds, he might like you. You just gotta talk to him. But, if that's too much," he quickly added. "Then, just apologize for now."

Tenna pursed his lips. "Okay."

"You gonna do that?"

"Yeah, Mike. I'll do that." He pressed his face into the desk, groaning a bit more.

"You said there was something else you wanted to pitch to me?" Mike asked, and Tenna perked up a little bit.

"Yeah, actually," he smiled as he sat up and leaned back in his chair. "So, big idea here, Mike. We host a live event. Rent out a venue, do a Q-and-A, with both me and Spamton. Do a live performance, or something. And! And! Autographs, and photo-ops! Great place to launch the new poster as well."

Mike hummed. "That's actually really smart, Tenna. It'll take a while to set up, but in the meantime, we can get the poster ready and perfect. I can handle all of that. You just need to handle your own issues first. I want that poster to be genuine, Tenna. No fake smiles."

Tenna saluted, despite Mike not being able to see him. "Sir, yes, Sir."

Mike chuckled a little. "You'll be okay, Tenna. I promise. Spamton likes you more than you know. If he stuck with you after the Addison incident, he'll stick with you through anything."

Tenna deflated a little at the grim reminder. "I guess you're right, Mike. Thank you."

"Good luck, Tenna."

Then, he hung up.

After a moment, he stood. He headed out of his office and to the green room. He checked it, but Spamton wasn't there. Frowning a little, he went back down the hallway to Spamton's dressing room. He carefully knocked on the door, and heard a muffled, "Come in."

He pushed the door open, and Spamton was sitting at the vanity, fussing with something under his sleeves. He smiled at Tenna through the mirror, then pulled his sleeves down and turned to him. "Hey hey! What's up, big shot?"

Tenna slowly made his way to the couch and sat on the edge, fiddling with his thumbs.

Spamton raised an eyebrow, looking a bit worried. "You okay?"

"I'm sorry, Spamton," Tenna whispered, just barely loud enough for him to hear. "Last night was a mistake, and I crossed boundaries, and I promise, it won't happen again."

Spamton's face scrunched a little. He looked conflicted, and he couldn't look at Tenna directly. His hands folded into each other, and he opened his mouth to speak. "What..." He trailed off, then scoffed at himself. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, messing it up a little, tugging at a few strands. "It's okay, Tenna. I played along. I wasn't thinking about how you felt. I... thought it was a joke."

"It was a joke," Tenna amended. "It was. A joke."

Spamton turned away, back towards the mirror. Tenna was sitting at an angle where he couldn't really see his face. But, for a moment, he swore he heard a sniffle. His stomach lurched. He wanted so badly to take Spamton into his arms. But, that was another crossed boundary. So, he sat quietly, twiddling his thumbs, his gaze avoiding him.

"Let's not joke like that anymore, okay?" Spamton said weakly. "Let's not mean it as a joke."

Tenna looked up at that moment, confused. "What does that mean, Spamton?"

Spamton shrugged. "Nevermind, Tenna." Then, he inhaled a deep breath and fixed his hair. "So. You talk to Mike about the posters yet?"

Tenna deflated a little, but forced himself to stay in the moment, no matter how badly he wanted to run and hide again. "Yeah. I did. And, another thing, too." He tried to smile, and he did, but there wasn't any meaning behind it. "To launch the posters, I was thinking about doing a live event. It would be sometime within the next month or two, but think of the ratings! You know how many people would kill for something like that?"

Spamton chuckled a little. "It would be great, huh?"

Tenna's smile softened, grew a little more genuine. "Is that something you would want to do?"

He nodded. "For the show, I don't know what I wouldn't do."

Tenna clapped his hands twice. "It's official, then. We'll launch the posters at a great and incredible live event! And it'll be awesome!"

"Yeah, Tenna," Spamton averted his gaze. "It'll be awesome."

Chapter Text

It took about a week for a photographer to come into the studio. Tenna didn't mind the delay, since they weren't on a time crunch just yet. Mike had only just started to plan the live event, so there weren't any set dates at the moment. He found a good venue, plenty of space for a stage and table, as well as other amenities and activities. He was working on budgeting for the most part, setting aside money to fund both the event and the rest of the show. Thanks to the advertisements that Spamton implemented, they weren't stretching themselves thin to make ends meet. Tenna was still incredibly grateful for that.

When the photographer did come in, however, the photo was difficult to capture, to say the least.

"No, no, point that toe, Mr. Tenna! Arms up higher, Mr. Spamton!" the Shuttah said, exasperated. Tenna tried, angling himself a bit more towards the camera, straining to get the position just right. Spamton's face was scrunched a bit, his arms clearly getting tired from being in the same spot for way too long. "Gah! No! No, no, no! The dynamic isn't there!" It tried snapping a few more pictures from different angles, but it just was not turning out.

They'd been at it for hours at that point. The Shuttah was laser-focused on making everything exactly perfect. Tenna appreciated it, but it was getting to a point. He could tell that Spamton was getting increasingly agitated by the way his eye twitched with every little correction.

"Maybe we should take five?" Tenna asked, dropping the pose with a frown.

"Fine! Fine. Can someone get me a water, please? Thanks." It groaned dramatically as it scrolled through the pictures. "Ah! This one was fine! Oh, but your smiles are wrong, all wrong!"

Spamton's nose wrinkled at the nagging tone. "How do we fix that?"

"Need to make the smiles genuine, Mr. Spamton," the Shuttah said simply. Spamton frowned. "Somebody needs to make a joke- or- or fall really hard on their face, so you'll laugh or smile! Needs to be true! No synthetics!"

Spamton pinched the bridge of his nose, inhaling deeply. "I'll be back." He stormed away from the stage, huffing a little in frustration.

Tenna wanted to follow, to maybe hype him up, try to get him to let loose. But, he felt he would only make it worse.

Spamton had been... strange these last few days. He'd been weirdly clingy, but never looked at Tenna directly. He just wanted to stand next to him in silence, or sit across from him at his desk and read, every so often standing up only to get himself more whiskey. Tenna had no idea what was going through his mind. He thought that they'd worked out the whole 'fake' flirting thing from the week prior. Tenna had apologized, Spamton had accepted it, and they'd moved on.

Right?

So, why was Tenna's stomach twisting in knots again?

Well, he knew one part of it. His feelings for Spamton hadn't magically disappeared, but more just hidden behind a locked door. Heard, but unseen, unwanted. He still spent nights thinking about him, drowning his pent-up emotions in whiskey sours and plates of walnut brownies.

He couldn't shake the feeling that he was missing something. There was a look in Spamton's eye that Tenna couldn't place, couldn't quite recognize. He seemed down and sad, but in a different way than before. He wasn't anxious and jumpy, but more quiet and hesitant. He barely spoke up, and if he did, he refused to look anybody in the eye, most of all Tenna.

Their performances were still going great. The stage always made Spamton light up like a star, his smile brighter than anything Tenna had ever seen. But, the moment the spotlights were off, he slumped forward, his showmanship and confident bravado washing down the drain.

Tenna sighed, then slowly walked down the hallway to Spamton's dressing room. He knocked softly on the door, but he didn't hear a response. He was about to turn and look elsewhere when the door cracked opened just a hair, and Spamton's face peeked out. He stepped to the side and opened it wider, letting Tenna inside without a word.

Apprehensively, Tenna went in. He stood a bit away from Spamton, giving him space. "Are you okay?"

Spamton's lips pursed. He shut the door and crossed his arms, giving a slow nod. He didn't look at Tenna. He looked anywhere but Tenna.

"Is it because the photographer is annoying?" he tried to joke, but the way Spamton's face scrunched up made his breath hitch. "Did I do something?"

Spamton hesitated, then shook his head.

Tenna frowned slightly. He sat on the couch, then patted the spot next to him. Spamton didn't move for a long moment. But, eventually, he sat a good distance away from Tenna, his body turned from him, his shoulders shaking a little.

"Do you need anything?"

Spamton's hands clutched at his upper arms, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt tightly, and the trembling increased. He opened his mouth to speak, but no noise came out. His face twisted into frustration.

He looked exhausted.

"I can ask it to come back another day. It's not a big deal."

Spamton shook his head.

"Do you want a longer break?"

Spamton shrugged.

Tenna bit his bottom lip, wanting to reach out, wanting to hug him, but he dropped his arms in defeat. "Are you sure you're not mad at me?"

Spamton gave a silent huff.

"Why can't you say anything?"

That made Spamton's eyes blow wide, tears brimming in the corners. He shook more violently, and Tenna's stomach twisted painfully. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to push you. You don't have to talk," he rushed to say.

Spamton shook his head and wiped away his tears. He started to look for something. Tenna wasn't sure what, until Spamton turned to him, looking directly at him for the first time in a long time, and mimed writing on his hand, a questioning look on his face.

"Oh. Pen and paper?" he asked. Spamton nodded. Tenna dug his notepad out of his pocket and passed it to him. Spamton opened up to the first blank page and started to write. Once he was done, he showed it to Tenna.

Overwhelmed.

"Do you want me to leave?" Tenna asked quietly.

Spamton shook his head, then went back to writing. You help me.

Tenna's breath hitched, and he gave a nervous chuckle. "I don't see how I help you. All I seem to do is... cause you grief." He shrank down a little.

Spamton shoved the paper to his face, his finger underlining each of those three words rather aggressively. Tenna chuckled again. "Okay. I get it." He paused. "Can you tell me what you need?"

Spamton thought for a moment, then started to write again. Quiet time is good.

"So, no talking?" he asked. Spamton shook his head.

Quiet time with you is good. Away from people. You're fine.

Tenna nodded. "Water? Snack?"

Water sounds good.

"Alright. I'll get you water." Tenna stood and made his way to the counter. He got a glass, then filled it with water. He grabbed a granola bar for him, just in case, then went back to the couch and sat. He handed the things to Spamton, who smiled a little. He started to drink, then slowly unwrapped the granola bar and took a bite. Tenna leaned back into the couch, staring up at the ceiling and relaxing.

Spamton scribbled something, then showed it to Tenna. Thank you.

"Anytime," Tenna said.

The silence between them stretched on for a long time, but it wasn't awkward. Although, it definitely passed five minutes. Tenna didn't care all that much. The photographer could wait.

Spamton finished the granola bar and the water, then leaned back next to Tenna. Slowly, apprehensively, he scooted closer. Tenna lifted his arm, and Spamton sank into his side. Tenna laid his arm over his shoulder, trying so hard to still his racing heart.

Spamton wrote some more. Are you okay, Tenna?

Tenna huffed a small breath out of his nose. "Yeah. Just worried about you."

Don't be. I'm a grown man, I'm fine.

"I know. But, I feel that I've really messed up when it comes to you." Tenna sighed. "I fucked up with the suits. A-and I fucked up at the bar. And I even... I fucked up apologizing. I know I did something wrong there, I just don't know what."

Spamton shook a little at the mention. It's my brain being stupid. Don't worry about it.

"Stupid about what? The only one stupid here is me," Tenna laughed softly. "My heart is on my sleeve. I say things without thinking. You're my friend, I shouldn't be treating you like this."

Like what, Tenna?

"Like-" He hesitated. "I don't know. Just... like this."

Treating me like I'm actually somebody? Like I'm worth something?

Tenna frowned. "That's not how it feels. Not when... you're like this."

Why I'm like this isn't because of you, Tenna. Spamton's lips pressed into a firm line. It's something else.

"What kind of something else?" he asked.

Spamton pursed his lips even more, his hand trembling as he held the pen. He nearly dropped it, but huffed out a sharp breath and scribbled a few more words. The writing was haphazard and messy, something that Tenna could barely read. But, the most important word was laid bare before him.

I'm autistic, Tenna.

Tenna reeled back a little. He wasn't shocked, not necessarily. But, it was a slight surprise. "Oh." He cleared his throat. "I'm not entirely sure what that means. But, I think I know the general idea?"

Spamton chuckled a little at that. The anxiety seemed to fade, at least a little bit, and he continued to write. It means a few things. But right now, I'm just overwhelmed, so my brain's shut down, and I can't talk.

Tenna nodded along. "You've been like this before. I remember."

Spamton grimaced. Yeah. Happens more when I'm stressed.

"I'm sorry," Tenna muttered. Spamton patted his hand in reassurance.

Not your fault. It's just my brain.

Tenna nodded once. "So, anything else I should know?"

Spamton shrugged. I don't get people.

"What does that mean?"

Just people in general. I don't get them. Words are confusing. I need people to be direct with me, otherwise I'm confused.

Oh. Tenna shrank down a little. "So. That night at the bar."

Spamton averted his gaze. He didn't write anything for a long time. I don't want to talk about that anymore.

"Okay," Tenna mumbled. He inhaled a deep breath. "So, you get overwhelmed easily, conversations are hard. What else?"

That's a massive understatement. Spamton chuckled lightly. I meant it when I said cars were my everything. They're the one thing I'm passionate about, one thing I can't get tired of.

Tenna hummed thoughtfully. "You do like to talk about them a lot. Always seems to cheer you up."

Spamton nodded, a smile on his face. I hyper-fixated on them when I was a kid. Never ended. Now, it's my life, and I really love it.

"So, when you're like this, not talking and stuff," Tenna started. Spamton urged him to continue. "Is there anything I can do to help you?"

It comes and goes. Being around somebody that I like helps a lot, though.

Tenna's heart fluttered at that. He prayed that Spamton couldn't hear it. "It just takes time?" Spamton nodded. Tenna hummed again. A few quiet minutes passed. Tenna was content sitting on the couch with Spamton secure under his arm, but he grimaced at the thought of Mike getting impatient or agitated. "Just let me know when you're ready to go back out. I don't think Mike likes us hiding from our responsibilities."

"Mike can suck an egg," Spamton said, then he made a slightly startled noise and cleared his throat. "Oh. That was quick."

Tenna would have blinked a few times if he had eyes. "Welcome back," he joked.

Spamton handed him back the notepad with a soft smile. "Thanks, Tenna. For coming to find me." He averted his gaze for a moment. "It normally takes almost half an hour for me to go back to being fine."

Tenna sat up a little and stretched his arms out. Spamton frowned at the loss of contact, but settled as soon as Tenna's arm was around him once again. "We should get back out there, though."

Spamton groaned. "And listen to that guy screech at me again? No thanks."

Tenna chuckled. "Maybe we just need a new approach. I don't think jokes are going to help, so we need to figure something out that makes us... fluid." He did a weird chest movement, like a body roll, but really terribly.

Spamton snorted. "Oh, like what? Just dance until it looks right?" Then, he blinked. "Oh. We could dance until it looks right."

Tenna gaped at him. "I can not dance, Spamton."

"Well, I can, and I think it would be great," he said haughtily. "Square dance."

"I don't see where you're going with this," Tenna admitted.

"Okay, so," he stood and beckoned Tenna to his feet. He reluctantly followed, and Spamton grabbed his hand, putting it on his shoulder, while he held onto the other one. Meanwhile, his other hand landed on Tenna's waist, and he pulled him close. "Follow my lead, then, once I say go, we push apart into the pose. Make sense?"

"Uh, okay?" Tenna stared down at their feet, following Spamton's movements really closely. He stepped on his toe, and Spamton gritted his teeth. "Sorry! Sorry, Spams."

"Spams? Really?" he teased. "What happened to Spammy?" He stepped back with his right foot, and Tenna stepped forward with his left. They fumbled a moment, but quickly restarted.

"I didn't think you remembered me calling you that!" he huffed, his face shading a light pink. He pouted. "Is that fine?" He grunted a little as he messed up again, but they easily got back into step. Spamton guided them smoothly, like he'd been doing this for years, keeping time by tapping his finger on the back of Tenna's hand.

"Yeah, but only if I can call you Tens," he grinned.

"Ugh," he rolled his eyes. They completed a full box for the first time, and they both grinned at each other before going back to their banter. "Cringy. Almost as bad as the shit in Lovers Mountain."

"Lovers Mountain is a literary masterpiece!" Spamton snapped back. "Ironically."

Without Tenna noticing it, he got into a rhythm. He stepped when Spamton stepped, glided when he glided, letting himself be enveloped in the dance, despite there being no music. He spun Spamton out, outstretched his arm, then brought him into a dip. He leaned down with him, grinning like a madman. Their noses touched, and for a moment, time stopped.

Spamton stared directly into Tenna's face, his foot ever so slightly wrapping around the back of Tenna's leg, keeping him balanced. Tenna's hand held him firm by the small of his back, dipping him effortlessly. His fingers clutched into the back of his shirt, and he slowly brought him upright. They gazed into each other for a long moment, faces a little too close, eyes drifting a little too shut.

"You were supposed to say go," Tenna whispered.

Spamton nodded wordlessly, and his eyes trailed down to Tenna's lips. His face scrunched up like he was about to cry. "I was, wasn't I?"

Tenna inched closer, just barely. Spamton didn't pull away. His eyes fluttered shut, gently, and anticipating.

For a moment, everything fell into place.

Then the door flung open.

Chapter Text

No matter how hard he tried, Spamton couldn't be upset at Tenna. He always managed to go crawling back to him, wanting, needed, craving.

It was selfish. The way he leaned into him, the way he told him his secrets, the way he wished for there to be more between them.

He had gotten far too bold when Tenna apologized. He had tried so hard to pretend that he'd forgotten, but the look of anguish on his screen was too much. He was genuine, he truly felt terrible for leading him on, for joking like that around him.

Spamton accepted it. What else could he have done? Told Tenna to fuck off? No. He didn't want that.

If it was a joke, then why was Tenna gazing at him like this? Why were their hands clasped together, inching over the line of being just friends? Why was Tenna looking at him like he was the most beautiful gem in the whole world? Why was his gaze filled with reverence, adoration, and a gentle edge that cut through his heart deeper than a blade ever could?

He was supposed to say go. They were supposed to be practicing for the picture, so they could make it perfect. Make it genuine. Make it brilliant.

Instead, there he was, so fucking close to leaping forward and smashing their lips together.

He could care less about the poster. He didn't give a damn about the poster.

That wasn't true. He did care. Just, not right then. Not when his world was finally coming together for the first time ever. Not when he finally didn't feel afraid to admit that he was in love with a man. Not when he would happily yank Pink by that stupid fucking ponytail and stomp his stupid fucking face into the dirt.

Then the fucking door opened.

Spamton shoved himself away from Tenna instantly, his face blanching as he pressed a hand over his mouth. Terror filled his mind. They were caught. It was Pink. Pink was there. He would see. Oh god, he would see.

He stumbled backwards, coughing a little. He went to start rambling when he looked up. Relief flooded him, but only for a moment. It was quickly replaced with burning embarrassment and a hint of shame.

In the doorway was a Pippins, eyes wide, mouth agape. They shook it off and wordlessly pointed in the direction of the stage.

Tenna cleared his throat. "Ah. Uhm. Yep. We'll be there soon. We just. Uh."

The Pippins was gone before he could finish his series of incomplete sentences. Tenna turned towards Spamton, a worried look on his face. Spamton exhaled, then his face shaded a little bit pink. He looked at him, a wobbly smile on his face.

"Was that a joke, too?" Tenna asked, a bit too quietly.

No. It wasn't. Nothing about this is a joke to me, Tenna.

"I... don't know," he said. He took a step towards Tenna, wanting, needing his touch. But, he hesitated. "I don't want it to be. I-I tried to tell you- at the- when you... apologized."

Tenna froze, his expression going blank. "You did."

"Yeah. I did." He shrugged with a soft laugh. "Not too directly, though. I'm..." Tears welled up in his eyes. "I'm scared, Tenna." He shrank back, arms wrapped around himself, his eyes darting left and right. "I don't just tell people that I'm gay. A-and I don't just tell people that I'm autistic. I've never told anybody that."

"So, why?" Tenna took a careful, tentative step closer.

"You mean something to me, Tenna," he said, squeezing his eyes shut. He lifted his head, gave him direct eye contact, and spoke, his voice trembling and uncertain. "You mean something to me." He took a step closer to him. Tenna met him in the middle, hands gently finding his arms, holding him loosely, experimentally. "I..." He sucked in a deep breath. "I want to be something to you, Tenna. More than a business partner, o-or a co-host, or a-"

His words were cut off by Tenna's soft voice, that pierced through all the rock-solid walls he'd put up since childhood. With a hand caressing his cheek, fingers carding through the strands of hair plastered to his sweaty skin, Tenna whispered, "Can I kiss you?"

Spamton nearly burst into a fit of sobs. "Yeah, Tenna. Yeah."

Tenna inched closer, still giving Spamton an option to leave. He was careful, oh so careful. Spamton would have been impatient if his heart wasn't threatening to explode from his chest and scream victory. Suddenly, the lights felt too bright. The room was too hot. The open door was the least of Tenna's worries, but Spamton's eyes glanced to it.

For a moment, he saw Pink. Arms crossed, face red with fury, his glare hard and sharp as a knife.

Spamton closed his eyes, then closed the distance between their lips.

Tenna's hands instantly tightened around him, but only a little. He slid his grip down to his waist, pulling him close, while his other hand tilted his head, deepening the kiss. He let Spamton take control, letting him push up if he wanted to, or draw away if he needed to. But, Spamton let himself melt into Tenna's warm hands, let his fears slide away.

He felt lighter. Even as they pulled away, words falling short, breath hot and heavy between them, Spamton felt a weight lift from his shoulders. The anxiety in his belly faded, the stress in his mind ebbed.

All that remained was Tenna.

"So," Tenna muttered, a cheeky grin on his face. "How long were you planning that?"

"Shut up and kiss me," Spamton mumbled breathlessly. He shoved himself closer, one hand reaching up and wrapping around the back of Tenna's neck, yanking him down to his level. Tenna let out a surprised noise, but quickly settled into the second kiss.

It quickly became three, then four, then five. All the while, Spamton got more and more giddy the less air he had in his lungs. He would let Tenna steal all of it if he had the choice.

He did. He did have a choice.

"Tenna," Spamton whined a little. "I want..." He paused and scrunched his face up a little. It was embarrassing to say it out loud, to admit he wanted Tenna to shove his tongue down his throat and crush him under his weight on the couch. He couldn't say it. He just couldn't.

"You want?" Tenna asked.

Spamton huffed, then averted his gaze. "Nevermind."

"More?" Tenna whispered, not quite keen on letting him leave just yet. His lips were drawn up into a pout. He looked like a sad puppy at the idea of Spamton leaving so soon.

Spamton nodded. "More."

"How much more?" Tenna pressed.

Spamton's eyes darted to the still open door. "I-I don't know."

"Ignore that," Tenna said. He dropped his grip on Spamton for just a moment, and he rushed to the door, shutting it and clicking the lock. "It's just us, Spammy."

He smiled sloppily at that. "The photographer-"

"Can wait another moment," Tenna returned to him, his hands finding the same exact spots as before. He held him more confidently, closer to his chest. Spamton could hear his heart going absolutely crazy, his systems struggling to keep him from overheating.

Spamton's stomach lurched at the proximity. He couldn't wait another moment. He reached up and kissed Tenna again, turned his face a little, then parted his lips, silently asking. Tenna made a surprised noise, but was happy to oblige. He slowly took control, walking them over to the couch and sitting Spamton down. He took to his knees, his hands on either side of Spamton's waist, holding them both in place. All the while, their lips never parted, save for the occasional tiny breath. Tenna pressed closer, then his tongue darted out from between his lips and ran along Spamton's bottom lip, asking for permission one last time.

Spamton nodded, his hands on Tenna's shoulders, his body leaning forward. As soon as Tenna's tongue was fully in his mouth, Spamton started to suck on it. Tenna made another noise, like a "Mphm!" in surprise. His screen flushed a deep red, and Spamton grinned into the kiss. He pushed down on Tenna's shoulders a little bit, and he was pliant in his grasp, ready to be molded and shaped by his careful hands.

They parted as soon as they were out of breath. Spamton gasped as cool air rushed into his mouth. A few thin strands of saliva connected their lips. Spamton's chin was covered in it, too. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve and turned away, his face shading redder than a fucking tomato. He'd never blushed this hard in his life. He stole a side glance as Tenna, who was staring up at him like he was a work of art, ready to be worshiped and praised.

"The... photo," Spamton muttered.

Tenna pouted. "The photo."

"At least, now it'll be perfect?" Spamton offered, a slight smile on his face.

Tenna chuckled. "It'll be more than perfect."

"We should-"

"Yeah, we probably should, huh?"

They laughed quietly, clearly not wanting to leave their own little world so soon. Spamton paused, then a small frown overtook his bright smile.

"What are we, Tenna?"

Tenna sucked in a breath. "What do you want to be, Spamton?"

"More," he said instantly. "Just... more."

"Partners, but not in business?" he asked.

Spamton snorted. "Funny that you have to make that distinction."

Tenna grinned, then his face settled into a more neutral expression. Happy, but thoughtful. "We don't have to put a label on it yet. I don't want to rush you into anything that you're not ready for."

Spamton nodded. "Thank you, Tenna. I... think I'm ready for it?"

Tenna's lips pursed, like he wanted to kiss him again. But, he refrained. So, Spamton took the initiative, giving him a peck on the cheek. Tenna chased his lips, and Spamton was eager to give him another. Tenna kissed him over and over. They were short and in quick succession, but they made Spamton laugh, and that was all that mattered.

"How am I gonna keep my hands off you?" Tenna mumbled. "Already can't handle it."

Spamton's eyes went wide for a moment, and he desperately tried to keep from popping a very unfortunate boner. "I uhm."

"Was that too much?" Tenna asked.

"No! No, just-" He cleared his throat. "I don't want to keep the photographer waiting, it-it's making me anxious." It wasn't technically a lie. The longer they stayed in the dressing room, the more pissed Mike was most likely going to be.

"Yeah, you're right." Tenna sighed, then sat back on his heels and stared at the door. Then, he slowly looked back at Spamton. "One more?"

Spamton chuckled, and without a word, kissed him once again. "We can talk more about this tomorrow. When we've both had time to think about it."

Tenna nodded eagerly. "Tomorrow!"

Then, reluctantly, they stood and brushed down their jackets. Spamton rushed over to the mirror to make sure his lips weren't swollen. He put on some chapstick and thoroughly cleaned the saliva from his chin, a little bit to Tenna's dismay. Tenna stood by the door, his arms crossed loosely, just waiting. As soon as Spamton was done freshening up, they went back out to the stage.

They got a few odd looks from the Pippins, mostly. Evidently, the one sent to retrieve them had spilled the beans. The gazes made Spamton even more anxious, but Tenna took the lead through the halls, letting him trail behind and somewhat away from all the attention. They took their places, and the Shuttah groaned.

"Took you long enough! We have work to do! We need these perfect pictures, people! Chop chop!" it snapped.

"We had an idea for it, actually," Tenna spoke up. He sent a glance to Spamton, who nodded at him to continue. "You wanted it natural, right? So, what's more natural than dancing, then sliding into the pose?"

The Shuttah thought for a moment, then with a shrug, it nodded. "Whatever works. Just be quick! Be snappy! I have lots of editing to do!"

Tenna huffed a satisfied breath, then turned to face Spamton, who was already walking towards him. He held out his hand, and Tenna gladly took it, getting into the same stance they had been before. They went to start, but Tenna faltered. "Uh, can we get some music?" he asked towards a group of Shadowguys. They looked towards each other, then pulled out their saxophones and started to play a simple melody.

After a few deep breaths, Spamton took the lead. Tenna easily followed, only slightly fumbling every so often. But, easily recoverable. They danced for a good while, then Spamton gave Tenna a firm look. He took the cue, then got ready to push away.

"Three, two, one, go," Spamton said.

They pushed away from each other, shoes gliding along the smooth wood of the stage, arms outstretched towards each other pointing. On their faces were two large smiles, brighter than the spotlight above. Their eyes were locked, cheeks rosy, chests heaving.

There came a string of clicks from the camera, and the Shuttah gasped triumphantly. "Perfect! Absolutely perfect!" It sighed happily. "I'll just edit in the microphones, that's easier than making you seem genuine and true. Oh, but you are genuine and true!"

Spamton and Tenna relaxed their arms, giving each other a grin. The Shuttah clapped its hands gleefully as it scrolled through the pictures. "These will do very nicely, very nicely indeed! Thank you for your time and effort, Mr. Spamton, Mr. Tenna. Your new poster will be incredible, truly!"

"Thank you for your patience," Tenna said.

The Shuttah gave a curt nod, another giddy smile, then happily left the studio, a pep in its step.

Tenna caught Spamton's gaze, silently asking. Tenna nodded once, and they took their leave, making their way to Tenna's office. Spamton sighed and collapsed onto his chair. Tenna was already on his way to make them both drinks. He set a glass of whiskey in front of Spamton, who drank half of it in one swig.

Tenna chuckled. "Long day, today."

"You don't even know, Tenna," he groaned, putting a hand to his head. "Can we just read, please?"

Tenna smiled softly. "Yeah. Let's read."

Chapter Text

When Spamton got home that night, he screamed into his pillow and pounded his fists against the mattress. He covered his face with his hands and trembled, a giant fucking smile on his face. Sounds that he didn't even think were possible left his mouth as he curled into a tight ball, vibrating with excitement.

He paused for a moment, then a replay of everything flooded his mind. He erupted into giggles, snatching his pillow and hugging it tightly to his chest, screeching unholy noises into it. They were barely muffled, but he lived alone, so he didn't give a damn.

God, he could still feel Tenna's hands on him. His waist, his face, his lips on his skin, begging for more.

"How am I gonna keep my hands off you? Already can't handle it."

Spamton had wanted to scream, "YES YES PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE TOUCH ME TOUCH ME TOUCH ME PLEASE!" He wanted to launch himself into his arms and curl around him and never let go.

A moment of realization struck him.

It had finally happened.

He and Tenna would be, finally would be, what Spamton had been craving his entire life. He would finally have somebody who understood him, who was patient and gentle with him. Tenna had proved over and over again that he was somebody Spamton could trust and rely on. Even though he'd messed up a few times, and was a bit clumsy when it came to words, he was always there when Spamton needed him. He always came to look for him, and he took things at his pace.

Tenna put himself in Spamton's hands, giving him the control that he so desperately wanted in his life. Tenna gave it willingly. Spamton didn't have to ask for it, or beg, or plead, or cry for him to listen, to hear him, to slow down, or stop. Even when he couldn't speak, a single look was enough. A small gesture was enough. Tenna would come running, or he would step back, or he would speak softly, or he would hug him.

Fuck. Fuck! FUCK!

"Fuuuuuuuck," Spamton groaned, heaving into his pillow. His entire body felt like it was on fire. Especially the places where Tenna's hands had been.

God, Spamton wanted those hands elsewhere. He wanted Tenna to rip his clothes off with his teeth and kiss him senseless and-

Spamton shrieked again and doubled over, shoving himself under his blankets to hide from the small bits of shame creeping towards him. He inhaled a deep, shuddering breath. "Fuuuuuuck. Fuck. Fuck! FUCK! Fuck you, Mr. Ant Tenna! Fuck you, a-and your stupid show, and your stupid smile, and your stupid muscles, and you! FUCK YOU!"

Spamton was fucked. Royally. Exponentially. Incredibly. Irreversibly fucked. He was in way too deep. He loved this man. He loved this man. And it was a huge problem. He couldn't get him out of his head. He couldn't get him off his skin or his lips. He was giddy with love, drunk with kisses, and starving for more.

He rolled over onto his back, then glanced at his nightstand. He kept a phone there, just in case he needed it, or someone needed him in the middle of the night.

He knew Tenna's number. He could call.

Spamton huffed an sharp breath, then sat up and reached for the phone.

Tenna sat on the edge of his bed, staring directly at the wall, zoning out.

He, of course, was envisioning Spamton standing before him, beckoning him up so they could dance once again. Tenna watched an image of himself grab onto Spamton's outstretched hand, and a replay of what happened in the dressing room was laid out in front of him. Tenna stepped on Spamton's toes as they talked and laughed, their faces bright with wide smiles that hurt their cheeks.

Tenna spun Spamton out, then reeled him back in, and captured his lips in a tender kiss. He smiled softly at the display, then he blinked, and it was gone. He frowned and pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing.

Kissing Spamton was everything that Tenna wanted it to be. He was soft, but commanding in a way that Tenna felt he could do nothing but obey. He fell into his arms, let Spamton shape him like clay, let him kiss his lips until all of his stress melted away. He'd never felt glitchy like that before. He thought for sure that he was going to short-circuit, and Spamton would have to jumpstart him.

That brought up a thought that Tenna hadn't even considered before. What would happen if he needed maintenance when he was with Spamton?

The idea of Spamton's hands grasping his wires made him anxious. He wanted to keep Spamton far away from the dangers of his body. He'd hurt Mike the first time he tried to do maintenance on him. Not to mention, it was incredibly awkward. Tenna's inner workings were a... different kind of sensitive. The only person who was even allowed to do maintenance on him was Mike, but after the accident, he resorted to shutting Tenna down for it. And sometimes, Mike messed up. Tenna didn't blame him, of course. He wasn't a mechanic or anything like that. But, Tenna routinely felt weird and oddly glooby for the longest times after maintenance.

Spamton being anywhere near Tenna while he was vulnerable like that was out of the question. Tenna wouldn't feel right subjecting him to that. Maybe one day, he would be fine with it. But, he highly doubted it.

Shaking away those thoughts, Tenna laid on his back to look at the ceiling. He turned to his side, and Spamton's face was there, eyes scrunched up, his lips in a wide grin. His hand landed on Tenna's chest and started to draw circles, before grasping him by the back of the neck and guiding him into a gentle kiss. Tenna smiled.

Tenna hadn't really thought about it all that much, but now that he'd held Spamton close to him, he couldn't help but notice how small Spamton was. He was half Tenna's height when he was normal. He did shrink if the moment called for it, such as the dancing, but the distance was kind of surreal.

How would they make it work? Would Tenna just have to be shorter for him? Would he have to pick Spamton up to kiss him? He snorted at the idea of Spamton on a stool or a ladder. He laughed a little and rolled over again, his heart full of giddy happiness, his hands aching to hold him again. He clutched his hands close to his chest and curled in a little, envisioning Spamton between his arms, sleeping soundly and comfortably.

Then, there was another thought. One that made Tenna a little bit worried.

If Spamton ever wanted to, how would they have sex? Tenna didn't particularly like being small. He could change his size at will, but he mostly shrank when he was feeling glooby, and he grew when he was extremely happy or excited. He didn't want to hurt Spamton, whether he was the top or bottom.

That brought up another question. Did Spamton even want to have sex with Tenna? It was a question for further down the line, certainly. He knew that Spamton was gay, but he'd never brought up anything sex related. Obviously, that would have been majorly unprofessional. They definitely had not been unprofessional before. Absolutely, definitely not. Tenna coughed awkwardly at that, but grinned a little nonetheless.

Tenna would be alright having sex with him, and he would be alright not having sex with him. The biggest thing he cared about was making sure Spamton felt loved and safe. Pleasure and other additives came later. He wanted to form that bond of trust before he even thought about taking Spamton's clothes off. Besides, Spamton was also a little odd when it came to clothes. Especially his shirts and sleeves. There was a point where he'd gotten defensive about his jacket, and snapped a little at Tenna when he suggested he take it off, because the heat in the studio was sweltering, and the AC was broken.

Then, there was that moment at the bar. Spamton had been comfortable enough to take his jacket off and roll up his sleeves. Tenna had only caught a tiny peek, but Spamton's arms were covered in bandages. He didn't dare pry, because the look on Spamton's face, full of pure terror and shock, made his heart break. He had assumptions, but he wouldn't ever bring them up. Not until Spamton was ready to talk.

Tenna groaned, then sat up and scooted back to the headboard. He laid down on his pillows and pulled a blanket up to his shoulders, sighing a little bit.

He wanted Spamton there. It was childish, he knew, but he missed his voice. They'd only been apart for a few hours at this point, but Tenna just... wanted him there. He was about to fall asleep when he heard a ringing coming from his bedside table. He shot up, wondering who it could possibly be, when a large grin overtook his face.

He snatched the phone and held it with hands trembling in excitement. "Hello hello, this is Tenna."

There was a moment of hesitation before Spamton spoke. "Hi, Tens."

Tenna could hear the smile in his voice. He relaxed against the headboard, barely managing to refrain from twirling the phone cord around his finger like a lovesick teenage girl. "Couldn't get enough of me earlier, huh?"

Spamton snorted. "So now you have no shame in flirting?"

Tenna grinned. "Not when I know where my mouth's been."

"Ew, Tenna!" Spamton gagged. "Terrible way to put it. Yuck."

"Sorry, sorry," he said, waving his hand dismissively. "You alright, though? Or just calling for fun?"

Spamton hesitated again. "Missed you."

"It's only been a few hours, Spams." But, Tenna had to admit, he did miss Spamton too. He hadn't been able to stop thinking about him, even more so after the day they'd had. He sighed. "I miss you too."

Spamton let out a small giggle. "Really?"

Tenna grinned. "Really really."

Spamton paused. "We're weird."

"Only a little," Tenna agreed. He sighed and pulled his blanket up to his chest, frowning at the fact that Spamton wasn't there beside him.

Was it too forward to ask for him to come over?

Yeah, probably. Tenna wasn't going to risk it.

"Hey, I was thinking," Tenna said instead. "I... would love to take you out."

Spamton made a weird noise, like a muffled screech mixed with a snort. Tenna faltered, but smiled softly once Spamton started to speak. "Like a date, Tenna?"

"Yeah, Spams," he laughed. "Like a date."

"Well, where would you take me?" he asked.

"I dunno, what do you like?" he countered.

"Pasta," Spamton said with a happy sigh. "With bread sticks. And Alfredo sauce."

"I know a great Italian place," Tenna grinned. "Not too far."

"Well, I happen to be free tomorrow night," he said matter-of-factly. "My boss would be so lenient as to let me have one little night off."

Tenna would have rolled his eyes if he had any. "What a thoughtful and kind boss."

"You picking me up or what, Tenna?" Spamton said.

"How's about seven?" he asked.

"Seven's good," he said.

Tenna grinned. He was already planning everything out in his head. He needed this first date to be perfect. Not just perfect by normal standards, but perfect for his standards as well. That meant flowers, nice clothes, incredible whiskey, remarkable wine, and ending the night with a kiss. He snatched his notepad from his nightstand and started to jot down his vague plans. "Then, I'll see you tomorrow."

Spamton made a small, remorseful noise. "Wait, not... not yet."

Tenna perked up and adjusted the phone, then stopped writing. "Yeah?"

"Can... I..." Spamton made a frustrated noise. "Nevermind, Tenna. I'll see you tomorrow."

Then, before Tenna could respond, Spamton hung up. Confused, Tenna stared at it for a short while. He frowned. But, then he started to smile. He kind of liked that Spamton was a little bashful about things. It was a little fun trying to guess what he meant, and he knew it would get better from here, since he could very, very lightly tease him about it. He worried about going too far, though. He had a feeling that Spamton was a bit touchy about being relentlessly teased. So, Tenna would keep himself in check, and make sure it was a teeny tiny healthy amount.

He finished writing down his ideas for the date, then doodled a silly image of them kissing in the bottom corner. He grinned and chuckled a little, then hugged the notepad to his chest with a happy sigh.

Tomorrow night couldn't come soon enough.

Work was hell. Absolute hell.

Spamton spent the entire day at the studio, his mind spinning in all kinds of directions, only ever thinking about the date with Tenna that night. The minutes dragged on for hours, the hours dragged on for years. Spamton was so close to slamming Tenna's office door shut and throwing himself over his desk, begging for any kind of attention whatsoever.

But, he forced himself to stay professional. He only brushed past Tenna a few times, each time giving him a knowing look and a gentle touch to his arm, or his hand, or the side of his thigh. He grinned every time Tenna reacted. He would jump a little, startled at the contact, and his face would shade a little more red each time.

Spamton was loving it. He couldn't keep his hands off him. He needed to be touching him in one way or another. It was so fucking difficult not to kiss him whenever they were behind the curtains or closed doors. Just a quick one, a stolen peck. But for one, Spamton couldn't reach, and for two, he was still apprehensive and a bit afraid of anybody seeing. The incident with the Pippins from the day before still haunted him.

Spamton had also been brainstorming on how to bring Tenna down for a kiss without him having to shrink. He liked a challenge, but the distance was pissing him off. He'd thought of a few ways to fix the problem.

One was the obvious, asking Tenna to bend down. But, that was boring. Spamton wanted something exciting and exhilarating.

Another was climbing Tenna like a ladder, or jumping up to wrap his arms around his neck and kiss him that way. But, that would get exhausting after a while. Spamton could use a stool, but that would mean carrying one around everywhere, because he wanted to kiss Tenna everywhere.

The third, and Spamton's most favorite idea, was his tie. He'd been wanting to yank him around by that thing for ages. He would have to reach up a bit high to grab it, probably stand on his tiptoes as well, but once he got into a rhythm, he knew he wouldn't be able to stop snatching that thing.

Tenna was standing right over there, looking over some notes for the show that coming Friday. Spamton could test out one of his ideas.

No, no, he couldn't. He needed to have some kind of self restraint. Besides, he was new to this whole dating thing. The only kind of relationship he'd ever had was... Spamton didn't want to think about that.

He sighed and gazed at Tenna, not even trying to hide the longing in his eyes or voice. He did catch Tenna's attention. He turned towards him and gave him a big smile and a thumbs up. He blew him a kiss and waved before turning back to his work.

Spamton huffed. That was it. The big dumb oaf was asking for it now.

He crossed over to Tenna, not even stopping to gauge his reaction before jumping a few inches into the air, grabbing his tie by the end, and yanking him down. "Kiss me?" he asked.

If Tenna could explode, he would have done so. He nearly shrieked as Spamton pulled him down, practically bending him in half at the waist. He stared at him for a good long moment, his screen hot to the touch, burning red with shock and fluster. He cleared his throat, then glanced left and right. Once he was certain there was no one around, he pressed his lips to Spamton's.

Spamton's hands flew up from his tie to hold onto the sides of his face, keeping him in place as he pushed forward. Tenna was eager to melt into him, to hold onto his wrists to keep them both steady.

They parted after a few moments, and Spamton grinned at him. Then, he took a step away and smoothed down his jacket. "Thanks, Tens." With a confident swagger and a satisfied smile on his face, he waltzed away.

Tenna stared after him, dumbfounded, and with a finger to his lips. He felt like a schoolgirl with a crush, it was embarrassing! But at the same time, it was everything that he wanted. He grinned after him. "See you at seven, Spams."

Spamton whirled around to shoot him two finger-guns, then continued on his merry way.

Chapter Text

Tenna could feel just how giddy Spamton was for the remainder of the day. And when the clock struck five, he was gone from the studio before anybody could notice he had left. Tenna chuckled as he watched Spamton's car peel out of the parking lot. He knew he needed to get ready too. Their reservations were for seven o'clock sharp, and he needed to find the perfect outfit. He had one in mind already, he would just have to find it.

So, he bid farewell to the crew and headed back to his home. He searched through his closet, eventually finding the suit he was looking for. It was simple, but elegant enough for the restaurant they were going to.

Oh, he should probably warn Spamton that this place was fancy. Not just fancy, but fancy.

He grabbed his phone and dialed Spamton's number. But, Spamton didn't pick up. Tenna sighed, realizing he was probably in the shower or something. He just prayed that Spamton would magically know how to dress for the occasion.

He got dressed in his own suit. He had on smooth black slacks, a white button-up, and a black jacket. He kept a fake rose pinned on the lapel for a pop of color. He fixed a red tie around his neck, then blushed at the reminder. He grinned, hoping from the deepest part of his heart that Spamton would yank it again.

He went into the bathroom to finish getting ready. He polished his screen, wiped away some of the tarnish with a rag and some cleaning solution. Then, he sprayed some cologne on. He saved it for special occasions, like meetings with important people, or in this case, a meeting with the most important person. He grinned in the mirror, then huffed a confident breath and strode out to his car. He took in a few more deep breaths, then he headed towards a nearby flower store.

He took his time in there, since he had plenty of time to spare. He also spoke with the clerk, who was thankfully very knowledgeable about flower language. Tenna didn't know if Spamton knew flower language, but he did know some random things, so he wouldn't be surprised.

He opened up to the store clerk, telling them about some of the hardships they'd gone through together, while not going into too deep of detail. He rambled bashfully about how his heart hurt to be away from Spamton, how much he wanted to hold and care for him. The clerk listened with a thoughtful smile, and pointed Tenna in the right direction to convey his feelings.

With the clerk's help, Tenna built a bouquet of white camellias, calla lilies, and clematis. He thanked them tremendously for their help, and they wrapped the bouquet with a dainty purple bow. Tenna sighed happily as he made his way back to the car. He carefully placed the flowers in the passenger seat, then sat there for a moment, thinking.

He was about to go on a date. His first ever date. He felt giddy and hopelessly in love. He didn't know what to do with himself. He wanted to yell it from the rooftops, scream it from the mountains, and hold Spamton so close, so tight, so nothing could ever hurt him again. He wanted to be gentle with him, to be loving and kind. He wanted it so bad. He knew he had it now. He had the chance to show him what it was like to truly be loved. He was afraid of messing it up, like he'd already messed up so many things for him.

Tenna exhaled sharply, pushing all of the negatives to the back of his mind.

Tonight was going to be good. He was going to make tonight perfect.

He checked the time, then after one last calming breath, drove to Spamton's house.

He lived in a nice neighborhood, filled with very expensive houses that fit his income. Tenna found his quickly, easily identifiable by the bright, shining Cungadero in the driveway. He pulled up on the side of the road, then got out of his car and fixed his jacket. With a huff, he crossed to the passenger side and grabbed the flowers. He didn't want to make Spamton take them inside the restaurant, because that could get annoying. He walked up to Spamton's front door and knocked twice, only to be startled when the door slammed open.

Spamton stood before him, eyes wide and cheeks rosy. His gaze shifted from Tenna's face down to the flowers held in his hands. His entire face erupted into red as he stared at the flowers. "Uh." He cleared his throat, his hands shaking as he stepped to the side. "C-come in, I-I think I have a- uh- a vase."

Tenna entered his house. It was very neat and tidy, with a place for everything, and everything in its place. It was a one-story, open concept, very Spamton. He could see some framed posters of the Cungadero, likely his achievements or first advertisements and what-have-you. Tenna took a good look around, spinning in awe as he glanced and noticed little details. Then, he bumped into Spamton.

"Here, I can take them," he said quietly, holding a vase. Tenna happily handed him the flowers, and Spamton worked on unwrapping them. His face was still red, but Tenna could see the smallest bits of tears in his eyes. He started to panic.

"Do you... not like flowers? Oh no, are you allergic! Agh! I knew it was a bad idea! I'm sorry, Spammy, I won't-"

"Tenna, I love them," he sniffled with a chuckle. He wiped his eyes with the corner of his sleeve, and that's when Tenna noticed just how beautiful he looked.

He was in a well-trimmed suit, perfectly fitted to him. Sleek, black slacks that led down to shiny black dress shoes. His jacket was a deep red, with shining silver buttons on the front and cuffs. He had on a white undershirt and a cute black bow-tie. His hair was slicked back, and Tenna could notice a twinge of makeup on him. His cheeks were extra rosy, his lips a bit shiner, more kissable. As he fiddled with the flowers, no doubt understanding what they meant, Tenna saw he had put some black nail polish on as well.

As soon as he was finished, he turned towards Tenna, a wobbly smile on his face. "Never gotten flowers before. At least, not like this."

Tenna carefully stepped up to him, and Spamton instantly met him in the middle. He grasped onto Tenna's hands and guided them to his face. He turned his head so he could bury his cheek in Tenna's palm, then he gently kissed it. "Thank you, Tenna. I love them so much."

"I'm glad, Spammy," he whispered, flustered at the gentle affection. "You know what they-"

"I know what they mean, yeah," he chuckled. "I wish I'd gotten you something. I feel silly."

"No, don't be," Tenna knelt down a little bit, carefully pressing their foreheads together. "Just you is enough for me."

"Ugh, there you go again, makin' me feel-" He cut himself off with a huff, and he tilted his head down. "Makin' me feel like I'm... worth something."

"You are worth something. It's a bit strange how you can't see that sometimes," he said. "I'm going to make you feel like you're worth everything, Spammy. I promise you that."

Spamton snorted. "You're reading too much Lovers Mountain."

"You read the same thing," he said as he kissed Spamton's forehead.

Spamton trembled a little at the display, but sucked in a deep breath and looked Tenna in the eyes. "Thank you."

"You ready to go?" Tenna asked. "Oh, hold on! I forgot to say." He grinned. "You look beautiful, Spams."

Blushing and averting his gaze, Spamton pushed Tenna's face away. "Not too bad yourself, Tenna. But, yeah. I'm ready." He sent one last lingering look at the flowers. He shook a little bit more, but brought himself out of the trance and took Tenna's outstretched hand.

He led him to the car and opened the door for him, then got into the driver's seat and started to drive. He made his way down to Cyber City, where he could easily find the restaurant. He'd been there once or twice before, but it wasn't that he remembered where it was. It just stood out like a sore thumb among the dull black buildings, since it was adorned in lights and reflective glass walls. The front door was manned by a host standing at a table, letting people with reservations in through one door, while walk-ins through another. The sidewalk was covered in red carpet and velvet walkway dividers, giving it an air of superiority.

Tenna parked nearby, then opened Spamton's door for him and held out his arm. Spamton gladly took it and walked beside him. Tenna did shrink himself greatly, instead only being around seven feet tall rather than his normal ten. He still held his head much higher than everyone else, and guided Spamton through the line with a grin on his face.

Spamton normally would have felt anxious being in a place like this. But, with Tenna, all of that fear melted away. He had been in places like these before, for business meetings and whatnot. He sucked it up back then and dealt with the meltdown afterwards. He had a feeling, though, that he would be having the best night of his life tonight. He felt himself smile easily as they were let in through the reservation door.

Another host brought them to their table and took their drink order. Tenna got a bottle of rosé, while Spamton asked for a glass of whiskey, as per usual. They were served incredibly fast, and clinked their glasses together with a grin.

"So, you like spoiling me, huh?" Spamton asked cheekily.

Tenna huffed. "Why, yes. Yes, I do."

"Is it going to be a normal thing?" he said, raising an eyebrow.

"Only if you want it to be. But, I have to tell you, Spams. Gift giving is my love language," he said.

Spamton flushed a little and turned his head to the side. "I'll have to do something nice for you too, then."

Tenna grinned. "I can't wait to see what you come up with." He reached his hand across the table, but he didn't touch Spamton yet. Spamton smiled a little, then laid his hand on top of Tenna's and laced their fingers together. Their gazes met, and Tenna felt his heart melt. Spamton's face was illuminated perfectly in the dim candle light, the reds on his cheeks popping out against his white skin. His hair shined, and Tenna swore he saw a halo of light around his head. Spamton's eyes glistened at him, and all he could see was love. He cleared his throat and lowered his voice. "You really look beautiful, Spams."

Spamton pouted. "That's embarrassing," he mumbled, but his grip tightened on Tenna's hand. "Thank you." He paused. "You look handsome, Tenna. Shinier than usual."

"Why, thank you for noticing," he said, using his unoccupied hand to straighten his tie. He totally wasn't drawing attention to it, and untucking it from his jacket. There was no reason for it at all. He did notice Spamton's eyes flicker down to his tie, and he smirked.

"You tryin' something here, Mr. Tenna?" he asked, reaching over the table to feel the tie between his thumb and forefinger.

Tenna's breath hitched at the proximity, and his heart thudded aggressively in his chest. "No. Of course not."

"Sure, sure," Spamton nodded, then retracted his hand. "Looks better untucked. Keep it that way."

"Good, because I was planning on it," he said through gritted teeth, trying his damned best to stay professional and wholesome. God, he wanted Spamton to order him around all the damn time.

No! Be normal, goddammit! He scolded himself, but the way Spamton's head tilted a little, the way his eyes bore into Tenna's soul, made him want to keel over right there. He cleared his throat, shoving away all of his desires away.

Just as he was about to speak, a waiter appeared to take their order. Spamton ordered chicken Alfredo with a side of steamed broccoli, and a hefty side of bread sticks. Tenna ordered lobster ravioli with a vodka cream sauce. He totally wouldn't be stealing any of Spamton's bread sticks to go along with his entree.

They chatted some more while they waited for their food, about the upcoming live event, some game show ideas, and whatnot. It didn't take long for their food to arrive. This place was ridiculously quick. Tenna understood why it had five stars.

As they ate, their hands never really split apart. It made eating a little difficult, but every mishap was another laugh to add to the collection. Tenna was sneaky and stole a bread stick while Spamton wasn't looking, which resulted in Spamton throwing a napkin at his face with a scowl.

They ordered some dessert as well, just a slice of chocolate cake. They were going to order two, but had seen a waiter carrying just one slice, and it was the biggest fucking thing Spamton had ever seen in his entire life. So, they opted for one, and they shared. By the end of it, Spamton had a satisfied, relaxed look on his face, and a smear of chocolate on his cheek. Tenna grabbed a napkin and cleaned it for him, which earned him a kiss on the palm as thanks.

Tenna paid the bill, much to Spamton's dismay. He tried to argue and pay for half, but Tenna was having none of that. With a huff, but a smile and a "Thank you, Tenna," nonetheless, they exited the restaurant and made their way back to Tenna's car.

Spamton collapsed into the passenger seat, unbuttoning his jacket and shedding it, tossing it to the backseat with a sigh. "I ate too much," he said, covering his mouth as he burped. "Oops."

Tenna chuckled as he slid into the driver's seat. He was about to start driving when Spamton's hand latched onto his wrist. He looked over, and Spamton was staring at him, his eyes a little wide, his mouth pressed into a fine line. "Are you okay?" he asked.

Spamton's nose wrinkled. "Can- can I-" He broke off with a frustrated noise. Then, rushed, and barely understandable, "Can I come over to your house tonight?"

Tenna blinked. "You... want to come over?"

Spamton's face flushed, and he averted his gaze. He nodded once.

"Of course, Spams. You can come over whenever you want. Surprise me, even. Show up at my door, I'll always let you in," he laughed a little.

Spamton gave a wobbly smile and another, more confident nod. Then, with their hands clutched together in the center console, Tenna started to drive home.

They were quiet for the drive. Spamton was exhausted from all the food. He actually couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten a full meal. He'd been trying his best, but his stomach hadn't been able to stop churning, and his anxiety made him want to vomit constantly. But, he didn't feel sick. He hadn't felt sick since yesterday. He finally felt normal again. He gripped Tenna's hand tighter as they pulled into his driveway. Tenna parked, then led Spamton into his house.

"I hope you don't mind wearing some of my clothes to bed," he said, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. "In hindsight, we should have-"

"I don't mind!" Spamton blurted. "Uhm. I mean. Oh well, I don't have clothes. Guess I'll have to sleep naked." He laughed nervously, then whipped around and buried his face into his hands, groaning. "Sorry. That was weird."

Tenna chuckled a little. "It'll just be really large on you."

"Don't care," he shrugged. He set his jacket on the table, then undid his tie and tossed that on top of it. He took his shoes off and started to walk deeper into Tenna's house. "Nice place."

"Thanks," he grinned. "I have a guest room if you..." He trailed off. "You want to sleep with me tonight?"

Spamton's shoulders jerked a little. "Well, I-I mean- I wouldn't be opposed to sleeping with you, Tenna."

Tenna frowned. "Hold on. Like sleep with me, or sleep in the same bed?"

Spamton made a little noise, one that Tenna couldn't describe. "Uh- well-" He cleared his throat. "Are we there yet?"

Tenna twiddled his thumbs. "I dunno, Spammy. I don't... I don't think so."

"Then, just sleep in the same bed," he said, turning around with a smile. His face was beet red, but his eyes were genuine. "I'm not going to force you into things. I-I know we just started. So, I don't expect that from you." He took Tenna's hands into his own and held them to his lips, gently kissing his knuckles. "You've been so considerate of me, it's only fair that I'm considerate to you, too."

"But, you want to, Spamton?" he whispered.

Spamton blinked. "Why wouldn't I?"

Tenna gestured to his entire body, now returned to his original height. "I would crush you, Spams."

"That's the point," he grinned with a wink. "The thing about me, Tenna. Is I like being crushed. It's a sensory thing."

"Oh." He thought for a moment. "That's." He blushed. "You really don't care?"

"Tenna, honey, come here," he said, snatching Tenna's tie and yanking him down to his level. Tenna grunted at the pull, but bent over nonetheless. Spamton dropped the tie, and grabbed onto both sides of his face, bringing him way too close. "I. Want you." He poked the center of his chest. "To crush me under your body. Okay?"

Tenna sputtered. "You're just so-"

"Tenna. Listen." He patted his cheeks twice. "I want you to crush me under your body. Even if it isn't a sexual thing. It's just a- I can't even describe it. But, it's something that I want. Something that you can do for me."

Tenna nodded absentmindedly, still shocked that Spamton was even considering having sex with a partner literally twice his size. Tenna had been so sure that it would have taken months for them to even talk about it. He hadn't expected Spamton to be so open about it so soon, or already be making requests. He was flattered, honestly. He couldn't even begin to feel anything other than shock and fluster.

"I don't- I don't think-" Tenna pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don't think I'm ready for sex, yet. There's... some things of my own that I feel I should work out before I be intimate with you like that."

"Like I said, Tenna. I'm in no rush. We can take it as slow as you want. I already have everything I need right here," he said, inching a tiny bit closer. "Can I kiss you, Tenna?"

"Please do," he whispered breathlessly. Spamton happily closed the distance between their lips, his hand curling around Tenna's tie once again, keeping him stuck in that spot. The kiss was short and chaste, but Tenna wanted more. He kissed him again and again, relishing the shocked little giggles that escaped Spamton's mouth. His hands grabbed at his waist and held him loosely.

Spamton pulled himself closer, urging Tenna to hold him tighter, and he did. He gave himself a little bit of distance, just so he could fall to his knees instead of being bent at the waist. Then, he fell into Spamton's arms, kissing him one more time. He didn't want it to end. He needed him, he needed to keep him close.

But, Spamton shifted away. "Clothes?" he whispered. "My shirt's all sweaty."

Tenna pouted a little, but chuckled lightly nonetheless. "Long or short sleeve, Spams?"

"Short is fine," he said.

Tenna led him upstairs into his room. He picked out some clothes for him then stepped into another room to get changed himself. They met up again in the hallway, and Tenna couldn't help but notice the bandages still plastered to his arm. Spamton caught him looking, but he didn't shy away from it. "I'm alright. Just an accident," he said.

Tenna nodded. He wouldn't ask. If Spamton was ready to talk to him, he would listen. But, it wasn't that kind of night. They made their way back downstairs and sat on the couch. Tenna lifted his arm for Spamton to fall in, and he did with a grin. He curled into his side as he picked out a movie. A stupid rom-com, something they could point and laugh at, and say, "That's totally not us."

Tenna found himself not invested in the movie. That was to be expected. The terrible dialogue made his stomach churn and his entire body reel back in second-hand embarrassment. So, he focused on Spamton. He rubbed his thumb in circles on his shoulder, held him tighter when he was settled, or loosened his grip while he shifted. Spamton's hands were clasped tightly in his lap, unsure if he was allowed to touch or feel. Tenna lightly grabbed his wrist and guided his hand to his chest, silently telling him that it was okay, he could do anything he wanted. Spamton blushed at that, but kept his hand firmly latched onto the front of Tenna's shirt, right above his heartbeat.

It was about halfway through the movie when Spamton spoke up. "I'm tired."

"You want to go to bed?" Tenna asked. Spamton nodded. But, before he could stand, Tenna was already up, and he scooped Spamton into his arms like a princess.

He shrieked a little in surprise, but it quickly shifted into a laugh as he wrapped his arms around Tenna's neck. "So this is what it's like to be Mr. Ant Tenna. I can see the whole world from up here."

"Can feel the rain first, too," he joked back as he carried him up the stairs. He gently set him down on the edge of the bed.

Spamton's face scrunched up as he felt the bed sheets. He stood and rubbed his hands on his shirt. "Uh. Sorry, Tenna, but do you have any other sheets?"

Tenna looked towards him, confused. "Uh. Maybe. Why? Are these ones stinky, or something?"

"No, no, it's the texture," he said, and he tried to touch it again, but he gagged and ripped his hand away. "Bad."

"Oh. Okay. Let me go look." He went into his closet, then brought out a different set of sheets and a fuzzy blanket. "Feel these."

Spamton reached out to touch, and nodded in approval. "These are good. I'm sorry, Tenna, it's just-"

"No, don't apologize," he said as he started to change the bed. "I always want to make sure you're comfortable." He tossed the sheets to the side, then sat down and patted the spot next to him.

Spamton smiled and climbed in with him, hesitant. Tenna lifted his arm, and Spamton hurried to press himself against him. Tenna rolled onto his side and wrapped his arms around Spamton, pulling the blanket up over them as he did so. They both relaxed, the warmth and proximity only making their hearts beat faster. Spamton hid his face from Tenna, instead shoving it into his chest, his hands clutching the front of his shirt again. "Goodnight, Tenna."

Tenna smiled, then kissed the top of his head. "Goodnight, Spammy."

Chapter Text

It became routine for Spamton to go over to Tenna's house for dinner. It only seemed natural. They spent their nights laughing and talking, or watching stupid movies while curled up on the couch. Spamton would occasionally spend the night there as well, tucked between Tenna's arms, sleeping away all of the stress from the day.

When he looked in the mirror, he swore he saw a completely different person. Most of the weight he'd lost was gained back, thanks to Tenna's hearty home-cooked meals. He didn't look pale, and the eye bags were starting to lighten up. Spamton found that he could easily smile in the mirror again, and give himself finger-guns to start the day off right. He was confident. He felt like himself again.

He barely heard Pink's voice. The wounds on his arms were fully healed, and he felt comfortable taking the bandages off and rolling his sleeves up. The scars were still a little prominent, but Spamton looked at them as a reminder that he didn't have to feel alone any more. He had Tenna there beside him, and that was all he needed.

Spamton adored Tenna's cooking. He found himself branching out and trying new things. Tenna was always attentive to how he reacted to new and different foods and textures, and would have a back-up plan in case Spamton couldn't eat what he made. He never judged him for it. In fact, Spamton had started to laugh at his repulsion to certain foods, instead of feeling like they weighed him down, or made him seem weird. If he tried something and showed even an ounce of distaste, Tenna was happy to make him a grilled cheese instead, or anything simple enough so they could still eat together.

It was domestic in a way that Spamton had never known before. His brothers never took his preferences into consideration. Either he ate, or he went hungry after a round of shouting at his 'disrespect' and 'childishness.' Spamton actually spoke up now, although it still took an insane amount of confidence after a long period of apprehension. He would request things from Tenna, whether it was food, or affection, or a quiet moment when they were at work. Tenna would finish what he was doing, or drop it entirely, and took the time to care for him.

To say the difference was drastic would be a massive understatement.

Even as the days got busier the closer they got to the live event, Tenna never once faltered in his attention to Spamton. He always made time for him after the work was done. Spamton was always there to help, especially within the last few days leading up to it. They were both scrambling to get everything ready, to make sure the stage was in the right spot, the posters were all stacked and ready to go, and that the live performance script was perfect down to a 't.'

It was stressful, but it was also fun. Spamton found that he wasn't worried about whether or not the event would go well, because he knew that he and Tenna would have a good time no matter what. Sure, he wasn't particularly thrilled about being interrogated by a crowd of hundreds of people, or walking through said crowd, but Tenna was steadfast right next to him.

They did a final run through of the venue, checking everything off on a list and fixing things last minute, before retiring to Tenna's house for a long night's rest.

Spamton collapsed onto the couch, groaning and undoing his tie. He tossed his jacket and tie to the floor with a hefty sigh. He closed his eyes, then slowly slid off the couch and laid on the floor in the middle of the living room. Tenna snorted when he saw him, and put his own jacket and tie on the counter before walking over to him.

"You alright, Spams?" he asked with a smile.

"Mphm, peachy," he groaned again, peeking an eye open towards Tenna. "Are we gonna be in the crowd of people at all, Tenna?"

"No, we shouldn't be. And I'll have some people with us while we walk, to make sure we have a clear path, and nobody tries anything weird." He sat on the couch and leaned back.

Spamton grimaced. "Ugh."

"Yeah, no kidding," Tenna sighed. He lifted his arm, silently beckoning Spamton over to him.

He groaned and forced himself upright, then crawled over to Tenna and hoisted himself up onto the couch with a huff. He leaned into Tenna's side and closed his eyes again, holding onto his shirt as he curled up. "Who knew a CRT could be so warm," he mumbled with a satisfied sigh.

Tenna chuckled and held him close. "Are you ready for tomorrow?"

"No," he said. "I don't know why I even agreed to this, I hate events like these." He frowned when Tenna tensed up. "It's for you, though, so I don't mind."

Tenna relaxed a little. "I'm guessing you'll never want to do another one?" he asked, a tiny bit teasingly.

"No, definitely not," he said. He adjusted himself, so he was more in Tenna's lap rather than leaning against him. He tilted his head up, then stared directly into his face.

"You need something?" Tenna grinned.

Spamton's brow furrowed. "Ahem?" He pointed to his lips.

Tenna huffed a breath out of his nose, then leaned forward and captured his lips in a tender kiss. He wrapped his arms around Spamton's waist, keeping him close to his chest.

Spamton was eager to push upwards, deepening the kiss, and swiping his tongue over Tenna's bottom lip. Tenna's mouth fell open, and Spamton took more initiative, shifting so they were more face-to-face rather than at an awkward upward angle. Tenna cradled his head with one hand, helping him to steady himself. Spamton moved again, spreading his legs so his knees were on either side of Tenna's hips, somewhat straddling him. Tenna made a surprised noise and broke away, gasping a little.

"A-am I too close?" Spamton whispered, wiping away some of the saliva from his chin.

The look on Tenna's face was difficult to read. He seemed anxious, and he turned his screen a bit, so Spamton couldn't stare directly at him. His hands tightened in their places, trembling a little.

"I can move, Tenna. I took it too far, I'm sorry," he said softly.

But, Tenna shook his head. He looked directly into Spamton's eyes, his voice unable to go louder than a mumble. "I really want you, Spamton."

Spamton flushed and sputtered, not expecting an answer like that. "You wanna..?"

Tenna broke away again. "I-I don't know."

Spamton started to slide off his lap. "Then, we won't."

Tenna's hands gripped him tighter again, holding him in place, but still loose enough to where he could still slip out. "No, I." His lips pressed into a fine line. He inhaled a deep breath, then pressed a gentle kiss to Spamton's lips. "I want you to feel good, Spams. And I want to... to feel good too. But, I don't think I can go all the way just yet." He blushed a little. "B-but, if you wanted, we could-" His hand slid from Spamton's face down to his waist, then he raised one leg a little bit, hoping to get the message across without actually having to say it.

Spamton's eyes unfocused for a moment, then more blush erupted onto his cheeks. "You want me to-" He broke off with a nervous chuckle. "You- ah-" He braced himself on Tenna's shoulders, then ever so slightly started to grind his hips. "This?"

"Yeah, if you-"

"Please," Spamton's voice went embarrassingly high as he interrupted, and he leaned forward to steal a kiss from Tenna's lips. "Tenna, please."

"You want to?" he brightened up a little, and his hold on Spamton's waist got a little more confident.

Spamton nodded vigorously. Then, Tenna sucked in a deep breath and lurched forward, kissing him breathlessly, frantically. Spamton gasped quietly into his mouth, then he started to grind his hips hard against Tenna's thigh. Tenna bucked his leg upwards just a little, and Spamton pressed deeper into the kiss. Tenna stole the air from his lungs, pressing their faces closer together as his fingers gripped Spamton's waist like a lifeline. His fingernails inadvertently dug into Spamton's skin, and he jolted a little, but he nodded a few times in encouragement.

Tenna, with newfound vigor, bounced his leg faster, relishing the way Spamton trembled between his hands. Spamton rolled his hips in a circular motion, and rocked his body back and forth, their kisses breaking every so often as he shifted. He took in quick breaths in between, but the fuzz in his mind from the lack of oxygen made every single touch on his body feel electrified. He squeezed his eyes shut as he and Tenna both sped up, and heat started to pool in his gut. His forehead found Tenna's shoulder, and he came with a shudder.

The fog overtook his mind, and pleasure rumbled through his body. He mouthed at Tenna's neck, whispering incoherent words as the pleasure took its time subsiding. A shiver ran down Tenna's spine, and he turned a little, kissing the side of Spamton's head as he continued to kiss the sensitive crook of his neck. He let out a low moan, and his hips started to buck upwards.

Spamton's hand found his cock and palmed it, his fingers dexterously tracing circles over the fabric containing it. Tenna wanted so badly to undress, to see just how far Spamton could take him, but the fear of hurting him was overwhelming. He forced himself to be satisfied with just a touch. He ground upwards into his hand, chasing his own relief. The combination of sensations on his neck and cock were enough to send him over the edge, and he soon came as well, moaning and shuddering all the while.

Spamton reeled back and looked deep into Tenna's face, his eyes wide, his grin happy, his cheeks a flushed red. "How was that, Tenna?" he kissed his lips, and Tenna could only manage a nod and another soft moan.

"Was I good?" he found himself asking as his mind slowly cleared of the fog.

Spamton blinked at him. "You were very good, Tenna."

He whimpered at that, then tucked his face under Spamton's chin. "I... like that. I like you calling me good."

Spamton chuckled, then kissed the top of his head. "I liked your nails in my skin."

Tenna made a slightly confused noise. "That didn't hurt?"

"It hurt, but in a good way," he said.

"You were..." Tenna trailed off, hesitating a little bit. "Really quiet, Spams."

Spamton blinked, then averted his gaze. "Oh."

"Not that it's bad," he rushed to say. "Just... really quiet."

"I know that people usually make noise," he mumbled. "I just don't really feel the need. Or, I don't feel the urge to, I mean."

Tenna hummed a little. "Should I take that as a challenge?" he grinned.

Spamton snorted. "Sure, Tenna."

As the adrenaline and pleasure wore off, Spamton wrinkled his nose and slid off Tenna's lap. "We should change."

Tenna grimaced as he became aware of the stickiness in his boxers as well. "Yeah. I don't think my boxers will fit you, Spams."

"I'll work with what we have," he said. "Anything to get out of these."

They both stood a bit awkwardly, then shuffled upstairs to find some new clothes. Glancing at each other only made their cheeks flare up, so Tenna opted to toss him things over his shoulder. Then, Spamton rushed into a different bathroom and cleaned himself up a bit before getting changed into the new clothes.

Before he left the bathroom, Spamton took a good, long look at himself in the mirror. He touched the collar of the very, very oversized shirt to his cheek and nuzzled against it. It smelled like Tenna. Spamton smelled like Tenna. He grinned, then cupped his hands to his face and started to vibrate a little. He shook his hands out, then huffed a breath. But, he couldn't stop replaying the event in his mind.

Seeing it all over again made him pace in a circle, his hands pressed firm to his face, his smile so wide that it was almost painful. He squeezed his eyes shut and struggled to keep from making any weird noises. But he couldn't help it.

Tenna wanted to be intimate with him. Even though he still wanted to take it slow, he was willing to try things with him. And he wasn't as shy about it as Spamton was. He could actually bring it up, as opposed to Spamton freezing and hesitating before deciding not to say anything. He was just so happy about it all. It made him want to shriek in excitement.

He stopped, forcing himself to at least appear normal. Then, with a big breath out, he exited the bathroom. He found Tenna back on the couch, twiddling his thumbs and staring down at them. He perked up when he saw Spamton, and he smiled softly. He patted the spot next to him, and Spamton happily sat down. He was going to lean into Tenna, but instead, his hands were grabbed, and Tenna just looked at him, deep into his eyes. Spamton gazed back and offered a comforting smile.

"Thank you, Spamton, for listening to me," Tenna said quietly. "You really don't mind that- that I can't go that far yet?"

Spamton sighed, then cupped Tenna's cheek. "It's what you want. I have no right to tell you what you can or can't do. It's all up to you, Tenna. I'm happy doing whatever, whether it's just sitting and watching a movie, or being intimate in smaller, less intrusive ways. I just want you. I l-" He broke off, his eyes going wide. He pressed his lips together and looked away. "You mean a lot to me."

"You mean a lot to me, too. I'm just worried. I know you said that you don't mind the idea of being crushed-"

"I love the idea of being crushed," Spamton interjected. Then, he paused. "Sorry. Continue."

Tenna chuckled and kissed him gently. "But, I've hurt people before. I-I've had some moments where I've slipped and fallen on people, and it's... I'm dangerous, Spamton. I really need you to understand that." Spamton nodded wordlessly, urging Tenna to continue. "So, if we do start having sex, I want to make sure that we have some ground rules. I..." He inhaled a deep breath. "Safeword, for the most part. So, if I'm feeling like I can't control myself and my size, I can let you know, and you can get yourself to safety. And, I don't ever want you to open up my chest panel. Ever."

"You have a chest panel?" Spamton's eyebrow raised.

"Yeah," Tenna said softly. "That's hurt people too. My inner workings are dangerous and electric. The only person who's allowed to is Mike. Do you understand?"

"Yeah," Spamton nodded. "I promise, I won't touch it."

That lifted a weight off Tenna's shoulders, and he relaxed a little. He sighed, then brought Spamton close to his chest. "Thank you."

"It's... basic stuff, Tenna," Spamton said. "If I ever make you uncomfortable, you tell me, okay?"

"Same goes for you too, Spams," he said quietly. "Is there anything off-limits for you?"

Spamton's voice went incredibly soft, and Tenna struggled to hear, even at such a close distance. "Don't make fun of me. A-and I don't really like people behind me. I like to hear, so talking is good. Lots of talking." He sighed, then grew a little more confident. "And my arms. They're... sensitive." Tenna nodded. "I would prefer to top. If that's okay?"

"Yeah, that's no problem at all. I like being pampered," Tenna smiled.

Spamton huffed out a breath of relief. "I think that's it. I-I'm sure I'll think of things if they come up, but that's the basics of it."

Tenna relaxed against the couch, and Spamton was eager to follow him. He curled up next to him, yawning a little.

Then, after a moment, Tenna spoke again. "Can I kiss you, Spams?"

Spamton nodded and tilted his head up. Tenna held him lightly by the chin, guiding him into a soft but passionate kiss. All the words they couldn't say yet, all the emotions coursing through their veins, all of the love they were apprehensive to let show, all of it was conveyed through one kiss after another.

They broke apart after a few moments, and they couldn't help but grin at each other.

"Ready for bed?" Tenna asked.

"Yeah, I guess," Spamton sighed dramatically. "Long day tomorrow."

"It'll be worth it," Tenna said. "And afterwards, I'll make you pasta."

"You promise?" Spamton shot him puppy-dog eyes.

Tenna laughed. "I promise."

Chapter Text

The venue was huge. A wide open space that could house hundreds, probably even thousands of people. It seemed almost creepy, to have a table and a stage just sitting there with a few other things strewn about. But, Spamton knew that it wouldn't be empty for too long. Soon, he wouldn't be worried about how empty it was, but how full it was going to be. Mike had told them that the tickets were completely sold out, and had been since the first two days of the sale.

Spamton was terrified to say the least. He'd never done well with crowds of people. They were too loud and too rowdy, often knocking him over or stepping on him because he was so much shorter than everyone else. His voice was always drowned out, he couldn't call for help, or ask anybody to guide him out. He'd spent way too long stuck in one place or another, in the middle of a crowd, whether it was on a train in downtown or elsewhere.

He wanted to stick next to Tenna, to wrap his arms around him and bury his face into his chest. But, he couldn't. He had to be the Big Shot that the crowds knew and loved, someone who was confident and self-assured, who didn't need anybody. Let alone a man.

He sighed as he sat in the backstage area. It was like a school almost, with a few long hallways and other rooms attached, mostly storage and whatnot. He hung his head between his legs, trying his best to hype himself up. He leaned back, then grabbed his script for the live performance and looked it over again. It was a comedy skit, one that Tenna had thought of when he was a bit tipsy. It was stupid and silly, but would get some laughs nonetheless. Spamton smiled softly down at it. He was never a theater kid, hardly did any extracurriculars when he was in high school or college. But, he'd seen the occasional school play or musical. They all seemed to have so much fun. He was happy to experience it with Tenna.

He closed his eyes and let his legs rest flat against the ground, and he held his hands tightly in his lap. He heard footsteps approach, and he smiled wider when he saw it was Tenna. He stood, and Tenna quickly leaned down to kiss his lips gently.

"You ready, Spams?" he asked.

Spamton averted his gaze, more anxiety gnawing at his stomach, making him feel sick and woozy. "I'll be alright."

"We gotta get out there soon. Mike's about to open the doors," Tenna said. Spamton wrinkled his nose. "I know, but it'll be a blast! You're a natural at all of this. You'll go into auto-pilot mode, and it'll be over before you know it."

Spamton shrugged with a small huff. "Yeah, I know." He latched onto Tenna's lapel, then brought him down for another kiss. "For confidence."

"I think I need another for good luck," he grinned, and Spamton was happy to kiss him over and over, letting the air grow hot between them, their breaths getting heavy and strained the more kisses they stole. Tenna chuckled after a few too many, then pulled away and pressed their foreheads together. "Tell me if you need a break at all. I'll get Mike to arrange it."

"Thank you, Tenna," Spamton muttered, holding his face for another moment, not keen on being let go so soon. "Hey, Tenna?"

"Yeah, Spams?" He kissed him chastely once more, and Spamton's face went red.

He opened his mouth to speak, then he heard the roar of the crowds as the front doors were let open. He tensed up and stared in the direction of the main area. He couldn't see it, it was around the corner, but he could hear the stampede, could feel the rumbling, and the excited screams of their fans, already chanting and cheering their names.

"Oh, really, Mike?" Tenna scoffed. He stood back up and smoothed down his jacket, then sent a glance to Spamton. "Well, let's get this show on the road, shall we?"

"Yeah," Spamton mumbled. He took Tenna's hand and squeezed it thrice, then let go and fixed his own jacket. He fumbled with the microphone on his lapel, then took in a deep breath. He let himself fall into a confident mindset, first bringing out his signature smile, then stepping in a smooth rhythm down the hallway. Tenna was right behind him, his hands unfortunately kept to themselves.

They emerged from the hallway into the main area, smiling and waving, and Spamton blowing kisses into the crowd. The moment they came into view, everybody started to scream. High pitch shrills, a cacophony of shrieks, and hundreds of overlapping, 'Look over here!'s.

Hundreds of cameras flashed, and Spamton's eyes scrunched a tiny bit at the bright flashes of light. He kept Tenna in his peripheral, and they made their way to the stage and stepped up.

"Hello, ladies, gentlemen, and all those in between!" Tenna began.

"Thank you for coming out to the first ever TV Time Live Event!" Spamton continued, matching Tenna in not only volume, but presence.

"We hope you enjoy your time here, because it's-"

"T! V! TIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIME!" Both he and Spamton shouted in unison, their arms out in a presenting gesture. The crowd gathered around the stage, meandering and mingling through all of the barricades to get a good spot. They cheered and clapped as their introduction came to an end. Then, Spamton and Tenna started to shift on stage. The lights dimmed, and the spotlight came on.

The crowd hushed, and the skit began.

It was silly, with one character asking about which baseball players were on which bases, and said players having stupid and confusing names. Who's on first, What's on second, and so on.

It drew laughs and claps. The reaction helped some of Spamton's anxiety melt away. He could gaze into the crowd and see smiling faces, people who were enjoying the performance, enjoying him. He calmed and let himself relax, easily rattling off his lines as he bantered with Tenna.

Then, he caught a glimpse of something, someone, in the crowd. A flash of color popping out against the sea of people.

But no, that just had to be a trick of the light, right?

Right?

Spamton's breath hitched. He tore his eyes away from the crowd, begging himself to be fine, to be normal, to stop looking.

The skit came to an end, and the crowd cheered again. The lights were brought back up, and when Spamton scanned the crowd again, the colors were gone. He gave a sigh of relief.

Then, they jumped right into the Q-and-A section. It was moving a bit faster than Spamton had anticipated, but he had a feeling that it was necessary, since the autographs and photo-ops would take the most amount of time.

They sat on the edge of the stage, like they were having a casual conversation with an old friend. There was a microphone a few feet away from the barricade between the crowd and the stage. A Zapper plugged it in, then a dozen or so people jumped into line and started to rattle off questions.

There were normal ones like, "Why did you start TV Time? Why did Mr. Spamton join? How much time does it take to plan an episode?" and so on.

"I started TV Time so I could bring some light to this world. It's filled with too much conflict. So, why not bring people together, give them something that they can enjoy?" That answer got a lot of smiles and claps.

"I brought Mr. Spamton on so the show could have a fresh start. Something new to liven the mood. And he's been such an incredible co-host, I wonder why I've never done it sooner!" That made Spamton blush, and he waved his hand dismissively.

"It depends on the episode. Talk shows are on-the-fly, with only a select few questions and talking points. But, behind the scenes, my stage manager Mike is always working on the game shows. Those Marvelous Mystery Boards don't make themselves, you know!" The crowd gave a loud cheer for Mike.

Then, there were the slightly more personal ones, and Spamton couldn't help but notice the eyes lingering on him for a little too long. "Did you know each other beforehand? What's your relationship with one another? Is it true that you are more than business partners?"

Thankfully, Tenna shut those ones down relatively quickly, before Spamton could freak out and stumble over his words while he tried to give a roundabout answer.

The rest of them were pretty normal and well-thought out. Some of them actually made Tenna stop and think. Such as, "What would you have done if you didn't start TV Time?"

"That's a tough one. I've always been entertaining people. I started small when I was a younger man, so it's hard to think of where I could have gone besides entertainment. I think I would have liked to see the theater stage, with plays and musicals, and such. But, if I had to pick anywhere besides the stage? I would choose to be a chef. I'm a stellar cook, as many of you already know." He grinned, and people clapped at that.

The questions continued, some directed at Spamton about his Cungadero, which he was incredibly excited to talk about. He lit up at the mere mention of his car, and the people with Cungaderos twirled their keys on their fingers. Spamton pointed them out directly and waved, shooting them a grin and a finger-gun.

Then, he saw it again. His eyes blew wide as a small hint of pink made itself known in the crowd. His breath hitched, and he awkwardly shifted the attention back onto Tenna. He stared into the crowd, searching, scanning, desperately trying to prove himself wrong.

Yet again, there was nothing.

Spamton pinched his wrist. He was losing his mind.

Tenna gave him a side-glance, then thanked the crowd for their questions. He spoke into his earpiece, telling Mike to keep everybody occupied while he and Spamton took a break backstage. Then, he smiled and waved, and helped Spamton to his feet. He blinked and brought himself out of the trance, then followed Tenna back into the hallways.

He slumped against the wall, a hand to his head. "I think I'm going crazy, Tenna. I-I'm seeing- they're-"

Tenna knelt beside him, rubbing his back and gently holding his wrist. "You're okay. Have you had any water?" Spamton shook his head. "I'll get you some water. I'll be right back."

Spamton snatched him by the back of his jacket as he turned to leave. "No! Don't go!" Tears brimmed in his eyes. "I-I don't need water, I just want you. Please? Don't go."

Tenna sighed, then nodded and sat on the ground. Spamton curled in his lap and buried his face into his chest, trembling. "You're seeing something?" he asked quietly.

"Pink," he mustered. "I think Pink is here."

Tenna tensed. "I'll get Mike to look out for him. He won't come near you, Spams. I promise."

A single tear slipped from the corner of Spamton's eye, and Tenna carefully wiped it away with his thumb. He shuddered and curled into a tighter ball. Tenna kissed the top of his head over and over, rocking him back and forth, whispering sweet words in his ear. He eventually stopped trembling, and gave a deep sigh. He still remained in Tenna's arms. He really really didn't want to leave. He wanted to stay there forever. Fuck the event, fuck his brothers, he just wanted Tenna.

After a handful of minutes, Tenna sucked in a breath. "Mike said time's up," he whispered.

Spamton made a frustrated noise, but slid off Tenna's lap and stood on slightly wobbly legs, fixing his suit. "Autographs and photos are next, right?" he asked.

"Yeah." Tenna hoisted himself up with the help of the wall, then held his hand out for Spamton. He took it with a tiny smile, and he squeezed it thrice again. "What does that mean, Spams?"

"Just comfort," he said, his cheeks flaring a little red.

"Oh, well in that case." Tenna squeezed Spamton's hand three times, then offered him a smile. "We'll be okay."

"Yeah," Spamton said. He withdrew his hand and wiped his face. "We'll be okay."

With a few more deep breaths, they made their way back to the main area. A group of Zappers was handling the crowds of people, guiding them into lines for autographs and photo-ops. They started to shriek in excitement once the two of them sat down, and the line began to push forward.

"One at a time, one at a time, people!" the Zappers shouted, and it worked a tiny bit. But, no doubt, everybody was impatient.

It was easy to fall into a rhythm. Tenna signed a poster, then passed it to Spamton, then they posed for a selfie, and moved on.

But, Spamton found that he couldn't focus.

His signatures weren't identical.

The pen was unsteady in his grip.

Blood was rushing in his ears, and his heart was hammering out of his chest.

He breathed deep to calm himself, but the constant barrage of, "Mr. Spamton! Mr. Spamton! It's so nice to meet you in person! Sign this! Sign that! Shake my hand! You like this drawing I did? Mr. Spamton! Mr. Spamton!" was pissing him off.

He felt his chest grow tight.

He couldn't speak.

He forced a polite smile onto his pale face.

Sweat dripped from his brow.

His gaze darted left and right, searching, scanning, hoping, praying that his brothers weren't there.

A Zapper came up behind him, only adding more posters to the pile, but it made the hair on the back of his next stand up.

His hand twitched.

His body trembled.

He jerked as somebody touched his hand.

Someone was speaking to him.

He couldn't hear over the roar of the crowd. Or was it still blood in his ears?

What was real? What was in his head?

The lights were too bright.

The voices around him were too loud.

A flash of Pink, of Yellow, of Blue, of Orange.

All four of them. In one spot. Down the line.

They were drawing near. They would be there. They would-

Spamton blinked, and they were gone.

Someone handed him a water bottle. He latched onto it, but it shook almost violently in his grasp. He tried to open it, but his hand slipped. It was opened for him. He drank almost half of it in a few gulps. He turned his head away, clenching his eyes shut. He breathed for what felt like ages. It could have been seconds, it could have been hours, he wasn't sure.

Then, he faced forward and grasped onto his pen again. He greeted the next guest with a strained smile on his face.

He signed a poster. He shook a hand. He smiled for a picture.

He signed a poster. He shook a hand. He smiled for a picture.

He signed a poster. He shook a hand. He smiled for a picture.

How long it continued, he didn't know. All of the people blended together. The voices, the laughs, the greetings. They were all the same.

Then, he heard it. A voice that broke out from the monotony of the crowds.

Shrill, high pitch. A voice he hadn't heard in a long time.

"Fag!"

And another. Same high pitch, same ear-piercing shrill.

"Sissy!"

Spamton froze. His eyes drifted up from the poster he was signing.

Directly ahead of him, barely even trying to blend in with the crowd.

Yellow. Blue.

He shot up from his chair, and it screeched against the ground as he shoved himself back.

They were pointing at him. They were laughing at him.

The people in the crowd shifted their gazes between Spamton and the duo. Their faces twisted up into frustration.

But, it wasn't directed towards Spamton.

He didn't see where their anger went, because he didn't waste a single second bolting from the table, straight into the backstage area.

Someone yelled his name. Spamton couldn't hear over the shuddering sobs that overtook his body. He slammed into the wall, his head smacking against it with a loud and painful thud. He cried out, then fumbled against the wall, a hand to his pounding head. He found a doorknob and turned it. It was unlocked. He shoved it open and slammed it shut behind him. He crawled to the darkest corner. He sobbed into his arms.

Everything hurt.

His head pounded relentlessly, like his brain was trying to explode from his skull.

His entire body ached. His hands, his legs, his chest, his head. He curled up into a ball on the floor, laying pitifully on his side as he tucked his knees to his chest and pressed his forehead against the wall.

All he could do was sob. He shook like a leaf with every breath he tried to take. He heaved. He felt like he was going to vomit. He coughed harshly in between pitiful wails, and he curled up even tighter, his arms wrapped around his stomach, a poor attempt to center himself.

No matter what he did, no matter how hard he tried to breathe, all he could do was heave. His mind went blank. He couldn't breathe. He wasn't breathing. He wasn't breathing. He gasped, but his breath caught in his throat and he doubled over again, coughing.

The door creaked open. Spamton trembled. He couldn't even shift to see who it was.

He felt a familiar hand on his shoulder and he flinched, but it soothed him. A gentle voice cooed to him, coaxed him into serenity. A kiss was planted on his forehead.

"You ready to go home?" the voice asked.

Spamton whimpered sadly. He nodded, and pressed his face into his lap. He brought Spamton up into a tender embrace, and he fell into his arms. His sobs dwindled down to lingering cries, but his tears were wiped away with delicate thumbs.

His eyes were puffy and swollen, it was too painful to crack them open. So, he sat there, dead-weight in his embrace, until his body was stable enough to stand.

That's when it felt wrong.

These hands were too small, too dainty to be Tenna's. The arms around him were too tight. The voice in his ear was wrong, all wrong.

His eyes snapped open, and there he was, smiling gently at him, but with poison hiding behind his kind eyes.

"Come home, White. You were never meant for the stage," Pink whispered. "Look at you. You're a mess. All from two little words. How could you possibly handle any other kind of criticism?"

Spamton weakly pushed at Pink's chest, but the hands on him only held tighter, nails in his skin, piercing, hurting, make it stop!

"Stop!" Spamton cried. "Please, let me be! Let me be..." He laid his face into Pink's shoulder. "Let me be, just let me be." He repeated over and over, his voice barely louder than a soft mumble.

Pink chuckled and shook his head with a deep inhale through his nose. "You were always safer with us."

"No, no, I wasn't," Spamton tried to argue, but the hands carding through his hair made him hush.

"Never should have left us. We always kept you safe." He rocked him back and forth. He kissed his forehead. "We had to make sure that our precious baby brother stayed right where he could always be safe."

"I never needed you," Spamton whispered brokenly.

"You always needed us," Pink said firmly. "We housed you. Clothed you. Fed you. When our parents abandoned you, we stepped up. We could have left you. But, we didn't. We love you. All of us love you, White."

"Shut the fuck up!" Spamton shrieked with a sudden wave of anguish. "I-I don-"

"I said hush," Pink said with a sneer. He snatched Spamton by the bottom of his face and forced eye contact. "We're going."

"No!" He fought, but his body hurt. No matter how much adrenaline coursed through his veins, he always fell pliant in Pink's hands.

The light from the door flickered, then a large, hulking shadow overtook it. The floorboards creaked under an insanely heavy weight, and an overly large hand grasped onto Pink's shoulder and upper arm.

"He said get off."

Spamton's heart fluttered at that voice, at that silhouette. He sobbed in relief as Tenna carefully separated the two. Pink was hopelessly outmatched, with Tenna being several feet taller than usual. His screen was pitch black, his hands trembled as he held onto Pink.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he muttered. Pink went pale. "I said what the FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!" He yanked Pink out of the room and into the hallway. "You keep your fucking hands OFF OF HIM! You and your brothers will leave, and you will NEVER, do you hear me? NEVER. NEVER. Speak to him AGAIN!"

Pink ripped himself out of Tenna's grasp with a hiss of pain. "So. You're a fag like him too, huh? Should have guessed."

"I SAID LEAVE!" Tenna yelled, and the entire hallway shook with the volume of his voice. Windows rattled, the door to the room swung closed a few inches. Spamton couldn't help but be enthralled. The pure fury radiating off Tenna was enough to make a grown man piss his pants in terror. Spamton was startled, sure, but entranced by how easily he stepped up.

Pink gave one more look to Spamton, a firm glare that normally would have made him sob out of fear. But this time, Tenna stood between him. He guarded the door like it held the most precious item in the world. He stared Pink down as he slowly backed up, then left the hallway with a scoff and a mumbled slur.

As soon as he was gone, Tenna shrank to his normal height and bolted to Spamton's side.

"Spams, Spammy, are you with me?" His hands found purchase on his shaking shoulders and carefully brought him into an embrace. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I should have- I... I'm sorry." He bit back a soft cry, and he rocked Spamton back and forth.

Spamton clutched onto him like a lifeline, and a second wave of tears flooded him. He wrapped his arms around his neck and sobbed into his chest. He felt weak. He felt powerless.

If he couldn't stand up to his own brothers, how was he supposed to do anything? If he couldn't face them without fear in his heart, how was he supposed to move on from everything they'd done to him? It was tearing him apart.

He cried. For how long, he didn't know.

But, Tenna stayed right there the entire time, his warm arms surrounding him, his love flowing through him, his touch grounding.

Words didn't feel right. So, neither of them spoke.

Spamton calmed after a while. He still hiccuped and trembled, but he could support himself at least a little. He didn't look Tenna in the eye. Tenna didn't expect him to. He just held onto him for as long as he needed. If Spamton had the choice, he wouldn't ever leave Tenna's arms.

He did. He did have a choice.

"Take me home, Tenna," he whispered. "I want to go home."

"Your home, Spams?" he asked gently, like he was afraid that a voice louder than a mutter would break him. Maybe it would have. It very well could have.

He shook his head.

"My home?"

Spamton nodded.

Tenna kissed his forehead. "Let's get you home, then, love."

Chapter Text

Spamton sat on Tenna's couch, staring blankly down at the floor. He wore some of Tenna's clothes, and it provided some form of comfort and familiarity. But, his brain was completely shut down. He couldn't think. He couldn't move. If Tenna spoke to him, he couldn't hear. He had to be coaxed to his feet and guided over to the table for dinner. But, he couldn't eat. Even though the pasta smelled absolutely incredible, and Spamton knew he needed to eat, he couldn't.

He couldn't stop replaying those moments in his mind. The hands on him, Pink's hands on him, soothing him with warmth and gentle words. Spamton was dropped right back into his childhood, sobbing into Pink as he held on too tight, whispering about how he should think and feel. Pink's hands on his face, his eyes boring into him, forcing him to remain still. Trying to make him normal as he cried and begged for him to stop.

Nails in his skin.

Fingers in his hair.

Kisses to his forehead.

Those three little words that always coaxed him back into his embrace.

I love you. We love you. We all love you.

As he stared off into the abyss, Spamton felt all of his brothers around him. Embracing him, whispering their words of poison into his ears. They pulled and tugged at him, bending him to their will, treating him like a doll or a puppet. Just another tool for them. They treated him like a mascot. Showing off how much they cared, using pity for him as a pull, a lure, a ploy.

Tenna. Tenna would never treat him like that.

Right?

Tenna would never berate him, betray him, use him, hurt him, throw him away.

Right?

Tenna wasn't like them. Tenna wouldn't be like them. Tenna was...

Tenna's hands on him. Holding him, caressing him, keeping him close.

But at the same time, he held Spamton so loosely, like he wanted him to slip out.

Did he want Spamton to slip away from him? Is that why he held him so delicately? Like he could fall apart at any touch harsher than a soft caress?

No. No. Tenna held him close to his heart. He held him loose as a way to say that he was always free to leave.

Spamton was always free to leave.

Tenna made it clear. He was not a tether. He was not an anchor. He didn't keep him captive.

He was a harbor. A safe place to return to. Warm arms, gentle kisses, soft words that made him melt.

Tenna was nothing like them.

He willingly put himself in Spamton's hands. He took things at his pace. He pushed and pulled in whichever direction Spamton was going. He watched him closely, searching for signs of distress. He was attentive and caring and loving and... everything.

Tenna was everything.

Spamton shrank back a little bit in his chair, his eyes glossy and empty.

Tenna's hand never left his. He held it loosely, and with a regretful look on his face. He sat there, slowly eating his own dinner, keeping his gaze trained on Spamton. Every minute movement was carefully watched. If Spamton even tried to dig his nails into his palms, Tenna was there to gently put his hand there instead, so he didn't hurt himself.

It was odd to look into Spamton's eyes and see nothing. There was always a spark of something, whether it was excitement or apprehension. It made Tenna's heart ache and his stomach twist into painful knots.

After a while of sitting at the dining table, Spamton finally blinked a bit of life back into himself. He retracted his hand from Tenna, then he started to eat. His eyes lifted to Tenna's screen, and he could see just how puffy and bloodshot they were. His frown deepened. "Water?" he asked gently. Spamton stared at him and blinked again. He nodded absentmindedly, like he didn't fully understand, and was just saying 'yes' to make it easy.

Tenna carefully stood, making sure he didn't move too fast or scare him. He got him a glass of water, then sat back down. Spamton drank a little, then cleared his throat. He perked up a bit, then started to eat more. Tenna sat there patiently, one hand outstretched, so Spamton could grasp onto it if he wanted to. He did, and Tenna smiled softly.

It took a while for Spamton to eat his fill, but he definitely looked better as soon as he was finished. He pushed the plate away from him, then looked to Tenna. His eyes said it all.

"You're welcome, Spams," he said.

Spamton stood, then made his way to the couch. Tenna followed. He sat down next to Spamton, who leaned into his side with a small sigh. He hesitated, then looked at Tenna and mimed writing on his hand. Tenna kissed his forehead, then stood to find him a pen and paper. He returned after a minute, then Spamton started to write.

I'm sorry, Tenna. His shoulders trembled slightly, and Tenna quickly wrapped him up in a tight and warm embrace.

"Nothing for you to apologize for," he said.

The live event was ruined. My brothers fucked it all up, and now you look bad because of me.

"You didn't see it, Spams," Tenna chuckled lightly. "After you left, the people turned on them. Shoved them out of the venue without a second thought. The Zappers didn't even get a chance to say anything before they were gone."

Spamton's eyes went wide.

"I tried to get to you sooner, but I-I couldn't get through. Everyone was so worried about you, they hounded me with questions, and I..." he trailed off. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I wasn't fast enough. I'm sorry that he..." He grimaced. "I'm sorry that Pink got to you."

Spamton tilted his head down and wiped away his tears. Were Yellow and Blue hurt?

"No, just removed from the building," he said with a sneer. He wished they'd gotten a little roughed up. But, he would keep that to himself. "Why do you care?"

They're still my brothers.

"They treat you like shit, Spams," Tenna said, a little too harshly. His grip tightened ever so slightly as Spamton's body shook again. "I know, I don't understand how you feel. I could never understand how you feel. But, I don't think you should care about what happens to the people who aren't afraid to publicly humiliate you, Spamton."

I still love them. Spamton aggressively scratched that out as soon as he wrote it, an angry look on his face. They're my brothers.

Tenna sighed. "I... don't think you should give them that much respect. They clearly don't see you like that."

They tried their best. He scratched that out too with a huff. They raised me.

"They tormented you, from what I can tell. They cause you so much pain, and yet you still want them this close?"

Spamton's breath hitched, and he held back a sob. They could have abandoned me. They didn't. That has to mean something.

Tenna carefully brought Spamton into his lap and carded his fingers through his hair, but kept his grip loose enough so he could slip away if he needed. "That's the bare minimum, Spams. Did they respect your disability?"

Spamton froze, then slowly shook his head.

"Did they love you unconditionally?"

Spamton nodded once, then heaved, and shook his head violently.

"They don't respect you, Spamton."

They're my family. He underlined it a few times, still trying to get his point across. But, Tenna just held him closer.

"They're in your head."

Spamton trembled. Always.

"What do they say to you, when they're in your head?"

Worthless. He scratched that out. We love you. He scratched it out. Come home. We miss you. We keep you safe. You were safe. He wrote haphazardly, his breathing quickened. He shot up from Tenna's lap and ripped the paper to shreds with a sob. He collapsed to the ground, shoving his face into his hands and crying into them. Tenna leaned forward, wanting to extend his hand, but he hesitated. Spamton shifted and shoved his face into Tenna's shins, his hands grabbing his pant legs as he spoke for the first time in hours.

"You don't want to love somebody like me, Tenna!" he wailed. "You don't want somebody like me!"

Tenna stared down at him, his lips parted, words forming but falling short on his tongue. He bit his tongue to stop from making any kind of noise. He had no clue what to say. So, he let Spamton get everything out of his system.

"I-I'm just gonna drag you down, a-and I'll fuck up the show, I'll fuck up your life, and I can't do that to you, Tenna! I can't let someone like me be with someone like you. You're just too- you're too good, and I'll drag you down, and I'm better off with my own business and my own life, where I can't fuck yours up too." He heaved again, shoving his face deeper into Tenna's shin, his hands squeezing so hard that his nails dug into his skin through the fabric of Tenna's pants. He sobbed harder, his words fumbling together, quickly becoming incomprehensible.

"Spamton, I don't think you realize how happy you make me," Tenna whispered. He slid off the couch and to his knees, shrinking down a few feet. He took him into his arms, and Spamton fell in, crying into his shoulder. "When I met you, I knew that you were exactly who I needed. You were the person who saved me, saved my show. Then, you wormed your way right into my heart. There's nothing you can do that would make me see you any differently. Everything that you're insecure about is something that makes you you." He inhaled a shaky breath. "What happened today was... unfortunate. But, there is no part of me that blames you for it. The event was still a success. We brought people together, because they all enjoy us. Not just me, but you too. That's the whole point. TV Time brings people together. It brought us together."

He rocked Spamton back and forth, keeping his body loose and his voice soft. "The people love you, Spamton. I..." He hesitated, his next words feeling heavy on his tongue.

He never said these words lightly. He never meant them as a joke. He only spoke them when he truly and genuinely meant them. "I love you. I love you so much, and I can't stand being away from you. I want to see you all the time, and spoil you with gifts and attention. I love how considerate you are with me. I love how attentive you are, and how you remember all the little details about me. You understand me in a way that nobody else has before. You make me happy, so happy, Spamton. There is no part of me that would throw away what we've built together because some..." He trailed off, deciding to choose his next words carefully. He wanted to say motherfuckers, bastards, or sick fucks, but it wasn't the time to be vulgar. "People decided they wanted to mess with you. I don't need to know what you've been through. I don't expect you to tell me that. But, I want to help you. I want to take your hands in mine and tell you that you will be okay, that I will be right there next to you, and I will help you feel okay."

He felt Spamton shake in his grasp. He scooted closer to Tenna's chest, hiding his face, muffling his cries.

"Do you want me to say it again?" Tenna whispered. Spamton nodded desperately. "I love you." Spamton's breath hitched, and he nodded again. "I love you. I love you. God, I love you so much."

Spamton started to grip his own wrist, his fingers moving his sleeve, and he went to scratch. Tenna guided them away without a word. Spamton's hands settled on the front of Tenna's shirt, thoroughly soaked with his tears.

They stayed there for a while longer, holding each other in silent understanding. Tenna didn't speak. He had said everything that he'd needed to. Now, he was waiting for Spamton to comprehend it, and accept it as truth.

Spamton shuddered, then in a voice barely louder than a mumble. "Say it again."

Tenna smiled softly. "I love you."

Spamton gasped out another sob, then nodded into Tenna's chest. "I love you, Tenna. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." He shielded his face, ashamed, embarrassed, terrified. "I-I don't want to leave. I don't want to go- to go back to them. Please, don't make me go back to them!"

"Never," Tenna said firmly. "You will never have to go back to them."

"Thank you, Tenna," he sobbed. "Thank you, thank you."

Slipping back into silence, Tenna held him closer, closer than ever before, closer than he thought possible. Spamton wrapped around him, scared and shaking. His arms were around his neck now, his legs on either side of his waist, his face firmly shoved in the center of Tenna's chest, safely tucked under his chin.

But, the floor wasn't comfortable for too much longer.

"Do you want to go to bed, Spams?" he asked softly.

Spamton nodded wordlessly. Tenna carefully stood, gathering him up in his arms, and carried him upstairs to bed. He laid him down gently, then tucked the blankets up over him. He fell asleep rather quickly. The exhaustion from the day caught up to him almost immediately. His hand was left outstretched for Tenna, a silent plea. But, Tenna couldn't. Not yet.

He sat on the edge of the bed for a short while, his leg bouncing as he pressed his hands to his lips.

Tenna was never a praying man.

But, he prayed that night.

He prayed to the Angel above that Spamton's mind would calm, that the raging whirlwind of emotions would blow over soon, and he could find happiness again.

He prayed that Spamton's brothers got justice for everything they've done.

He prayed that things would get easier for him, that the world would take pity on him for once in his life.

He prayed for love, he prayed for light, he prayed for guidance.

All the while, tears streamed down his cheeks.

In the stillness of the night, Tenna silently wept.

He couldn't stop himself from seeing that moment over and over in his mind, seeing Spamton looking so anguished and horrified, struggling, trying his best to escape. Pink's sinister smile, the way he held him tightly, painfully, the malicious glint in his eye, it all haunted Tenna. The panic and fury he felt was unlike anything he'd ever experienced before. He had been so close to losing him, to letting him fall back into that abusive cycle.

He never would have forgiven himself.

He didn't think he would ever forgive himself for letting Spamton come so close to being tormented again.

He didn't know the story. He doubted that Spamton would tell him the story, at least not all of it. But, he wasn't blind. He could see what made Spamton freeze, what made him panic, what made him cry. He had a feeling he could infer what happened during his childhood.

Yelling. Screaming. Berating. Isolation. Fear. Panic. Suffocation.

The way those two acted, Yellow and Blue, told Tenna everything about them. They were the ones who bullied Spamton for everything. Who called him slurs and chased him around, taunting him, embarrassing him, shaming him.

He knew that Spamton had a fourth brother. Orange, he believed his name was. Tenna hadn't seen him at the live event, but that didn't matter. He felt nothing but resentment towards all of them. It didn't matter whether or not they played a part directly. They all played a part. Every single one of them was to blame.

He pulled himself together, sucking in deep breaths to calm down. He sent a glance back at Spamton, who was sleeping peacefully, although his face was scrunched up, and dried tears still caked his cheeks. Tenna wiped some of them away, then adjusted so he could slip under the covers. He wrapped his arms around Spamton, growing back to his original height so he could fully envelop him.

Spamton shifted and pressed closer, softly mumbling something that Tenna couldn't understand. He smiled, then kissed his forehead. He fell asleep, his mind still racing, his dreams uncertain.

But, all the while, he held Spamton's hand, and they braved the storm together.

Chapter Text

Morning came with a throbbing headache. Spamton groaned as he sat up, a hand pressed to his forehead. He felt dizzy and disoriented, and still exhausted despite the amount of sleep he'd gotten. He vaguely recalled going to bed somewhat early, and it was pretty late in the morning. Although, he wasn't surprised. He was used to feeling like shit after a day like yesterday.

He glanced over to the side, realizing that there was something missing. The bed beside him was empty and cold. Tenna hadn't been there for a while. Spamton got to his feet and made his way to the door. He peered over the banister, trying to see if he could spot Tenna. He couldn't see him, so he walked down the stairs. Tenna was sitting on the couch, staring up at the blank TV mounted on the wall. He looked towards Spamton as he came into view. His screen was a bit dim. He looked exhausted.

"Good morning, Spams," he said. "How are you feeling?"

Spamton shrugged and sat next to him on the couch, resting his head on his shoulder. "Headache."

"You want some Tylenol?" he offered, scooting forward and preparing to stand up.

"No, not right now," Spamton mumbled as two fingers latching onto the back of Tenna's shirt. "Can we just sit here for a while?"

"Of course," Tenna said, and he leaned back against the couch. Spamton fell in almost instantly, letting out a sigh as he closed his eyes and curled up. Tenna kissed the top of his head, and stroked his thumb over his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Spamton shrugged. "I think I'm still... overwhelmed by it all. But, thank you, Tenna. For everything. I... really don't know what I'd do without you." He tucked his face away, willing himself not to cry again. He was far too exhausted to cry. After a moment of silence, he whispered. "Did you mean it?"

"Every single word," he said firmly. "I love you, Spams."

Spamton trembled a little. "I've never heard that from anyone aside from- from Pink. And Orange." He squeezed his eyes shut. "I love you, Tenna."

Tenna smiled softly, and kissed the top of his head again. "I'll say it as many times as you want me to."

Spamton nodded. "Did you sleep at all last night?"

Tenna frowned. "I'm alright, Spams. I promise."

"You're exhausted," he pressed. "I'll be okay by myself if you want to go sleep some more."

"I wouldn't be able to," he said quietly. "But, thank you for thinking of me."

"Tenna, please don't let me drag you down," Spamton's voice broke. "You can't stay up all night worrying about me."

Tenna chuckled a little. "Spams," he kissed his forehead. "You need support right now, so you can feel better."

"I-I do-"

"Do you?" Tenna asked.

Spamton froze, and he turned his head away. He elected to ignore the scratch marks on his arms. They weren't deep enough to hurt, but just slightly red and irritated. He huffed, then he hung his head. "No."

"So, today is going to be a day where we help you feel better," Tenna said with a small smile. "We can do whatever you like, and we are only going to worry about you." He carded his fingers through Spamton's hair, then cupped his cheek and kissed his forehead.

Spamton averted his gaze and gave a small nod. He hesitated, then asked, "Can I take a shower?"

Tenna nodded. "I'll get you a towel. Do you want a change of clothes as well?"

Spamton shrugged. "Nothing of yours will fit me if we're going out."

"Do you want to go out?"

Spamton shrugged again. "I-I don't know. I don't really do this... 'self-care' thing, Tenna. I just deal with things."

"Well, first let's think about what helps you feel good. Your cars," he said, and Spamton brightened a little. "We can read. We can sit on the couch and do nothing, or we can talk. What else do you like to do?"

"I like going outside, on hikes sometimes. And take pictures of the landscape." He fiddled with his fingers. "I like being by the river, or a waterfall in a forest."

"I know a good hiking spot," Tenna said.

Spamton perked up. "With a waterfall?"

"Yeah, and it leads into a little lake as well." He grinned. "Is that something you want to do?"

Spamton nodded. "Can we get some clothes from my house first?"

"Of course. Do you want to go right now, or after breakfast?" he asked.

"I'm not that hungry," Spamton muttered, his shoulders trembling a little bit again. "I don't want to throw up either."

Tenna nodded. "I'll bring some snacks and a lunch for us in case we want to stop and eat."

Spamton blushed a little at that. "Thank you, Tenna." He stood up from the couch and stretched, and Tenna went to grab his car keys.

It was a quick trip. Tenna waited in the car while Spamton grabbed a bag packed for a few nights. Tenna was glad he was deciding to stay with him for a short while. He hated the idea of Spamton spiraling into a dark spot while he was alone. When they got back, Spamton headed up to shower while Tenna prepared their snacks and lunch.

The hot water felt incredible against Spamton's aching body. He sat on the floor, his face turned upwards, his eyes scrunched shut. He kept his hands under his legs, forcing down the urge to scratch himself bloody.

Pink's voice called to him. Pink's hands held him tight.

But, the hot water washed some of it away. The quiet was soothing for once. Spamton sighed, then stood so he could wash his hair.

The hair gel had gotten pretty nasty, but he hadn't had the strength to wash it out himself the night before. He rinsed it out with some of the shampoo he'd brought from home. He was right to assume that Tenna didn't have any. It would be silly for a machine to have shampoo. But, he did have body wash, which Spamton stole with a cheeky grin. He liked smelling like Tenna. It made him feel safe and warm, like he actually truly belonged to somebody. He wanted to carry a piece of him wherever he went.

He wondered how it would feel to have Tenna wash his hair. To lean back and relax while someone else took care of him. He smiled softly at the image.

Tenna standing behind him, humming a tune as he poured shampoo onto his hands and gently massaged it into his scalp. His fingers untangling the knots, washing away all the grime, wiping away all the stress. Warm water cascading down as the soap was rinsed away. A kiss to his lips later, he would have a towel in his hair, and Tenna would dry it off, smiling all the while.

Spamton always craved moments of domesticity like those. The simple yet powerful displays of trust. He never let anybody behind him if he could help it. But, his heart trusted Tenna entirely. He found that he wouldn't mind being surprised if it was Tenna, because he knew that he could feel safe and laugh it off.

Spamton finished his shower and turned the water off. He stepped out and dried, then got dressed. He ran a comb through his hair, although it was still a bit messy. He didn't mind all that much. He didn't feel like trying too hard anyway.

He took a moment and just looked at himself in the mirror.

He seemed healthier. Happier.

Despite the circumstances, his smile was genuine. His eyes were still a little irritated, slightly bloodshot, but he had some of his spark back. He didn't feel empty, which was such a drastic change from any of the other times he'd broken down completely.

He was left feeling empty for days, even weeks on end. He would barely get out of bed, and hardly went into work unless he needed to be there for any kind of meeting of whatever.

In the night, he would spiral. Overthinking every little detail of everything he'd done leading up to that moment. Every word he said, every step he took, every glance he'd received from other people.

He would think of his brothers and cry.

He would miss them and the soft, domestic moments that weren't wrapped in barbed wire. They did love him in their own dark, twisted way. Spamton believed them in some aspects. It was why he fell into Pink's embrace over and over again. He was homesick. He missed them. He truly found himself missing them in moments like these.

He still missed them, no matter how much they hurt him or humiliated him. It was all he'd known for the entirety of his childhood. They just showed their love in different ways. They still cared for him. They still wanted him, needed him.

Spamton shook away those thoughts and tore his gaze away from the mirror. He inhaled a deep breath and stepped out of the bathroom.

He felt good. It was almost frightened how good he felt. He was excited to spend the day with Tenna, to be taken care of and pampered. He had to admit, he did love all of the attention. He felt loved. He felt seen.

He made his way downstairs and greeted Tenna with a smile. He walked over to Spamton and leaned down, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Spamton chased his lips, and Tenna was eager to kiss him over and over, as many times as he wanted. Spamton's hands grasped onto Tenna's wrist, holding him in place. He relished the proximity, the feeling of their foreheads together, their breaths hanging in the space between them.

"Feeling better already?" Tenna asked.

"Surprisingly, yeah," he said with a shrug. "Are we ready to go?"

Tenna nodded. "Just finished up the lunches."

Spamton grinned. "Thank you, Tenna."

"Anything you need, Spammy." He kissed him again, then pulled back so he could grab the lunchbox. He found a backpack and put it inside, along with some water bottles and two sweaters, just in case. He only had them in his size, so Spamton would be swimming in it, but that thought made him grin. He liked seeing Spamton in his clothes. He was truly adorable. It made him want to smother him with love until all he could do was laugh and playfully beg for mercy.

They got into Tenna's car, and he started the drive. It took a while to get there, so Spamton decided to read Lovers Mountain aloud from where they'd last left off. He did silly voices to match the characters, which made Tenna chuckle.

Tenna wanted to ask how he was doing. He could still see some pain hidden behind his eyes, and the apprehension when it came to holding his hand in the center console. He was relatively decent at hiding it, but it did worry Tenna a little. But, today was about helping Spamton feel better. So, they could shelve the important conversations for later, once he had time to work through his emotions a bit more.

After about forty minutes, Tenna pulled into the parking lot of a hiking trail he'd gone on a few times. It was rather secluded and very quiet. The weather was incredible as well. Sunny with a hint of cloud, but not too warm. He exited the car, and Spamton came up right beside him.

"I don't think I've been to this one before," Spamton said as he took a look around.

Tenna hoisted the backpack on, then clipped a little buckle in the front and adjusted the straps. "I've been a few times, mostly when I needed ideas for the show. It helps me think, and no one bothers you."

"That's good," Spamton said. He exhaled a deep breath, then they started their hike.

The sunlight shining through the leaves casted a soft emerald glow across the ground. Birds chirped and hopped from branch to branch, their little heads tilting at the sight of people. They sang their songs to each other and flapped their wings, before flying off to another section. Squirrels occasionally sprinted from one side of the path to the other, startling Spamton every time.

There was a soft breeze rustling through the trees, and leaves fell from their places and drifted in front of them. Spamton made it a game to catch as many as he could before they hit the ground. Tenna laughed and played along, often using his height to his advantage and stealing the leaf before Spamton could even try to reach for it. But, he would hand it to him anyways, and Spamton would let it fly in the wind.

The fresh air helped lift the weight from Spamton's shoulders. He smiled easier, and he ran in front of Tenna to scout out the path. He scurried up hills on all-fours with a laugh, and climbed some short trees, not even caring that he was dirtying his pants. Tenna was content to let him run and jump. He hung back, his face aching from smiling so hard.

Spamton would find shiny rocks on the ground and dust them off, showing Tenna before stuffing them into his pockets. He picked berries from bushes and rinsed them with some water from their bottles before wolfing them down, juice on his lips. He did some shoddy bird calls, then laughed whenever a bird answered him.

It was like he was a completely different person. Tenna had only ever seen this side of him once, but even that paled in comparison. Spamton let himself loose, let himself run and be silly. He looked back at Tenna every so often, a wide grin on his face, clearly looking for approval. Tenna would blow him a kiss and continue walking at a moderate pace.

Then, they reached the waterfall.

The trail came to an end by a small lake, more like a glorified pond. It couldn't have been more than five feet deep at the middle. It split into a few different streams that ran down the hill. But, the waterfall was beautiful.

Rainbows danced in the mist. The rushing water was like music to Tenna's ears. Spamton stopped in his tracks and stared. He found a large rock by the edge and sat down on top, his gaze trained on the arching splashes as the water struck the lake. The water was a shimmering turquoise, crystal clear around the edges, but darker and deeper in the center. Frogs and small fish swam at the surface, just barely visible against the rocks underneath.

Tenna approached Spamton and gently laid a hand on his shoulder. He jumped a little in surprise, then kissed Tenna's knuckles and leaned back into him. "It's pretty here," he said.

"It really is," he whispered. He wrapped his arms around Spamton's shoulders, tucking his head underneath his chin.

"What food did you bring?" he asked.

Tenna smiled. He took the backpack off and set it on the ground, then grabbed the lunchbox from it and handed it to Spamton. He took a sandwich and some chips, then held it in his lap as he started to eat. Tenna sat on the ground beside him, his head resting against Spamton's thigh. A hand patted his head, and he smiled.

"Thank you, Tenna." Spamton said softly. "For everything."

"Are you feeling better?" he looked up, and Spamton nodded. "I'm glad. You seem happier already."

Spamton chuckled. "I'm comfortable around you. I feel like I can actually be silly without being judged."

Tenna snorted. "Clearly. I've never seen anybody scamper quite like you."

Spamton rolled his eyes with a grin. "I mean it, Tenna. You make me... you make me really happy. And I like being around you all the time. I can finally be myself."

"You mean the confident businessman that I met at a bar wasn't your true self?" he joked.

"No, it wasn't." He frowned a little. "It's a mask I wear. I don't think I've ever taken it off. Not until now."

Tenna turned and faced the waterfall. "Thank you for putting your trust in me."

"You've earned it so many times," he said. "I really don't ever let people this close."

"I feel special." He reached up and grasped Spamton's hand.

"You are special." He squeezed Tenna's hand thrice, who returned the gesture in kind. His lips formed a wobbly smile. "I love you, Tenna."

"I love you, Spamton." He sat up on his knees, then faced Spamton. His hand lifted to caress his cheek, and he leaned in a little closer. "Can I kiss you?"

"You don't always have to ask, you know," he mumbled.

"I like asking," he whispered a little bashfully.

"Then yes. Yes, you can." Spamton closed the distance between their lips, his hands fluttering with uncertainty, before landing on Tenna's shoulders. He leaned into him, his eyes half-way open, taking in the sight in front of him.

Tenna stared up at him as they pulled apart, just a few inches. His hands grasped at Spamton, desperate for more. He was happy to give, and with a giddy laugh bubbling up in the back of his throat, he slid off the rock and into Tenna's lap. He wrapped arms around his neck and kissed him again and again.

Everything fell into place. The world seemed right. The world always seemed right when he was with Tenna. For once, he actually believed that he would truly be okay.

They parted again, but stayed curled around each other. Foreheads pressed together, hands clutching, breaths hanging in the air between them. Spamton grinned.

"Race you to the lake."

"We don't have a change of clothes, love," Tenna argued.

Spamton stood and gave him a cheeky look. Then, he started to take his socks and shoes off.

"Love, we don't have a change of clothes!" Tenna tried to reach for him, but Spamton took off running into the lake. "Spamton!" He groaned, then yanked his own socks and shoes off with a huff. He chased after him, then he started to splash water at him. He used a little too much strength, however, and created a small wave that struck him directly in the face. "Sorry!" While Spamton was up to the middle of his chest in water, it was barely up the middle of Tenna's thighs.

"You're going down for that one, Tenna," Spamton grinned, a malicious glint in his eye. He spread his arms out, then splashed a good amount of water at him. But, it didn't even reach his face. He leapt towards him, and Tenna scooped him up into his arms, spinning him around. Spamton shrieked and smacked him repeatedly. "Put me down! Put me down!" All the while, he was laughing in glee.

"Put you down? Alright." Tenna tossed him carefully, and Spamton flew a few feet, but managed to keep his balance. Just barely, though.

His entire head got soaked, and he glared at Tenna. "Fuck you! Shrink down, you bitch!" he screeched.

"Grow? Alright, if you insist!" Tenna grew a few feet, and Spamton made an exasperated, frustrated noise. He grinned, then flicked a finger and splashed more water on him.

Spamton raced forward, trying his damned best to tackle Tenna into the water. But, to no avail. Tenna laughed and took him up into his arms again, holding him to his chest as he swayed him back and forth. "You can try all you want. You're not getting a single drop of water on my head."

Spamton huffed and crossed his arms. Tenna gently set him down, then shrank to his normal size. Spamton used that opportunity to snatch him by the arm and yank him down. He jolted a few inches, but ultimately stayed on his feet.

"Aw, come on!" he whined. "That's so unfair!"

Tenna sighed. "I'll allow you one dunk."

"Yes!" He pumped his fist, then Tenna ducked his head. Spamton gathered up as much strength as possible, then threw a huge splash of water on him. Tenna's entire head got soaked, and Spamton clapped his hands in victory.

"My turn," Tenna grinned.

Spamton froze. He backed up, terror in his eyes. "No, no, you'd better n-"

He was cut off by some water in his mouth, and he gagged. "Oh, god, that's nasty." He spat it out and glared at Tenna. "You play dirty, real dirty."

"Love you too, Spams," he grinned.

They continued to play and banter for a while. Spamton eventually tired himself out trying to soak Tenna again, so they retired to the shore and ate some more lunch. They were also biding their time, trying to dry off at least a little bit before getting into the car.

It didn't work out, and Tenna had to take towels to his seats once they got home. He didn't mind. It was all worth it to see Spamton giggle and smile on their way back, counting the rocks in his pocket and rubbing them clean of any more dirt.

Spamton was about to head into the shower again, when he stopped and turned towards Tenna. He hesitated, then spoke quietly, almost inaudibly. "Can you wash my hair, Tenna?"

Tenna perked up, and a light pink blush spread across his face. "Yeah, I-I can do that."

Spamton's face lit up, and they made their way into the bathroom. Spamton turned the water on, but froze when he needed to get undressed. "Are you... fine coming in with me?" He picked at his skin and stared down at the floor.

Tenna smiled softly. "Anything you need, Spammy."

Sheepishly, they turned their backs to each other. Spamton got undressed first and stepped into the shower. Tenna followed behind, keeping his head tilted up, vehemently avoiding looking at him. They stood in silence as Spamton rinsed his hair, then he handed Tenna the shampoo. Tenna lathered it up in his hands, then slowly and carefully started to massage it into his scalp. Spamton leaned back, his eyes closed in bliss, a peaceful smile on his lips.

Tenna hummed as he washed, dexterously untangling all of the knots, and combing his fingers through the gunk. He rinsed his hair, then placed a gentle kiss to the top of his head. "All done."

Spamton turned and reached up, tenderly kissing Tenna's lips. "Thank you, Tenna."

Tenna cupped his cheeks and kissed him again. "Dinner? Movie?"

Spamton nodded.

They got out of the shower and dried off. They got dressed, and Tenna ran a towel through Spamton's hair, aggressively drying it, just to make him laugh. With another kiss, they made their way downstairs. Spamton sat on the couch with a glass of whiskey, and he scrolled through their streaming services, trying to find a good movie to watch. Meanwhile, Tenna made them a simple dinner of chicken and rice.

They ate on the couch and watched another stupid rom-com. Halfway through it, Spamton fell asleep underneath Tenna's arm. So, he turned it off and placed their dishes on the end table for him to deal with later. He picked him up and carried him to bed.

Before he laid down, he thanked the Angel above for a good day. He prayed that tomorrow would be even better.

Then, with a smile on his face, he slept all through the night, dreaming of splashing Spamton in that lake once again.

Chapter Text

They took the next week off from the show. Tenna had Mike put on some reruns and take care of things while they were on leave. He kept in touch, letting Tenna know if there was anything amiss, or if something needed his attention. So far, there haven't been any big changes. A few curious people asked questions every so often, but for the most part, things were good and easy.

Spamton stayed at Tenna's house the entire time. He was apprehensive about being on his own. A pit formed in his stomach at the idea of being left alone, so he stayed glued right next to Tenna.

He was eating more and drinking less, which was surprising. He didn't smoke as often as he used to either. Tenna's presence was enough to squash the urge to revert to his old coping mechanisms. Kisses and affection took the place of the need to scratch or indulge, and he truly felt an insane weight lift from his shoulders.

Tenna helped him get outside and do things to keep his mind occupied. They went on walks through the park, went shopping for some new outfits now that the weather was getting colder, took drives by the river, sometimes stopping to have lunch on the pier. It was good. It was peaceful. Spamton was working through his emotions as they came up. He talked them through with Tenna, although he still didn't speak of his childhood.

He could pinpoint what made him feel bad, and Tenna worked with him to either avoid them or start to come to terms with them. Tenna had even got him a stim toy, a small cylinder with tiny spikes in neat rows, so he could feel some sense of pain without actually hurting himself. He played with it constantly, and kept it in his back pocket for whenever he needed it.

Tenna was elated to be seeing his improvement. All that research was really paying off. He'd done a hefty amount of it within the last week, searching for ways to process childhood trauma, as well as how to be supportive to autistic individuals. He knew it wasn't perfect, he clearly wasn't a professional, but the changes made his heart lift.

Spamton was coming out of his shell more and more. He loved being silly around Tenna, and talking about his cars, and showing him little things that he found cute. He was relaxed. He was happy.

And, Tenna was happy too.

But, there was something still nagging at him as well.

He hated to admit it, but he'd really been wanting to be intimate with Spamton in a more sexual way. That moment where they'd nearly crossed the line was still fresh in his memory, and it haunted him in the early hours of the morning. He felt awful for wanting Spamton like that when he was vulnerable. But at the same time, he couldn't help but notice the small glances he received when they were a bit too close, the kisses that lasted a little too long, the tongues running along teeth as heat and saliva were swapped. Spamton wanted it to.

Right?

Or was Tenna reading too closely into it? Was he only seeing what he wanted to see?

He was hesitant to ask. He was scared to ask, actually. He didn't want to ruin the moment by asking.

He knew that Spamton wanted him like that. They'd talked about it before, but was it the time? When would it be the right time? Tenna wasn't good at things like this. He'd never had a romantic relationship before. It was new, and he was worried.

Tenna gave a small sigh as he finished up cooking dinner. He made a plate for himself and Spamton, then took it to the table and sat. Spamton was already there, sipping some water and eyeing him up.

"You alright, Tenna?" he asked, picking up his fork and taking a small bite, but his eyes never left him. Tenna nodded, then he started to eat without a word. Spamton's eyes narrowed, and he patted Tenna's hand twice comfortingly. "You can tell me. I'll do what I can to help."

He hesitated, then set his fork down and put his head in his hands. "I... have a question, Spammy."

Spamton raised an eyebrow, then urged him to keep going. He pushed his plate ahead of him a few inches, giving him his full attention.

He pursed his lips, then turned his head away. "What should our safeword be?"

Spamton blinked. "Oh. We're... you're ready to start talking about that?"

Tenna made a quiet noise, like a strangled hum. He sounded a little embarrassed, and very apprehensive. "I think so."

"You think so, or you're sure?" Spamton pressed. "Because if you're not, then we can wait longer."

"I want to try with you. I trust you. I just don't trust myself." He exhaled again, then turned to face Spamton. His cheeks were rosy red, and he couldn't look directly at him. "But, I know that I need to find ways to make sure I can trust myself, and I can't do that by sitting and thinking. I want-" He broke off. "I want to be intimate with you."

Spamton flushed. "I want that too. I... really liked the last time we were-" He cleared his throat. "Well, you know."

Tenna chuckled. "I think about it all the time. How much I really like you being in control."

Spamton made a flustered noise, and he tore his gaze away from Tenna, smiling like a lovesick fool. "You're fine with that? I would have thought you, being Mr. Big Shot and all, would love control."

"I do," Tenna nodded. "I like doing things my way. And, if we ever got to that point, I would like to be the top. But, at the same time, I don't mind being the bottom. If it makes you comfortable."

Spamton shrugged. "It makes me feel safer," he mumbled.

Tenna faltered. He frowned and tilted his head down. "So, what would you want to happen? What would you want me to do? I remember you mentioned liking my nails in your skin."

Spamton smiled softly. "I like being reminded that it's love. Not just a... a transactional thing, or- or a one night fling."

"Well, I can certainly do that," he grinned. "Kiss you, hold you, tell you I love you."

Spamton squirmed in his seat, more red making its way onto his face. "I'd like that a lot."

Tenna reached over and grasped lightly onto his hand, gently stroking it with his thumb.

Spamton inhaled deeply, then relaxed. "I think the safeword should be cut."

Tenna nodded. "I like that. Easy to remember."

Spamton grinned, then he started to shift. He stood up and stood next to Tenna, then wormed his way into his lap. Tenna held him tight between his arms, kissing the top of his head. "Do you..?" He trailed his fingers along the bottom of Tenna's screen and pressed dainty kisses to the corners of his mouth.

Tenna hesitated, then threw caution to the wind. "Take good care of me, won't you?"

Spamton squeaked, then with a giddy grin, he wrapped his arms around Tenna's neck. Tenna stood from the table, hoisting Spamton up into his arms, and he carefully carried him upstairs. As soon as they got into the bedroom, he let Spamton down onto his feet. Spamton closed the door, then slowly turned to see Tenna sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning back on his hands, his head tilted up, a clear invitation.

"Do we have the uh- the stuff we need?" Spamton asked, his hands shaking in anticipation. He looked like he was about ready to topple over on unsteady knees.

"I may have been cheeky," Tenna grinned sheepishly. He pointed to the top drawer of the nightstand. "I uhm..." He flushed. "Wanted to know what it felt like. It's my first time with anybody."

Spamton walked over to the nightstand and opened the top drawer. He flushed beet red as he pulled out a bottle of lube, and next to it was a sizable dildo. He stammered. "First time? Ever?"

Tenna nodded bashfully. "I'm happy that it's with you. I trust you, I-I know you won't hurt me, and you'll listen to me. I'm putting everything in your hands, Spammy."

Spamton exhaled, then he set the bottle by the pillows. He walked back around to the foot of the bed, and carefully slotted his knee between Tenna's legs. Tenna shrank down, so he was only two feet taller than Spamton. The change was drastic, to say the least. He shifted a little uncomfortably, but got used to being smaller. Spamton took his face into his hands and gently kissed him. His knee inched closer, then started to press against Tenna's cock. "Is this okay?" he whispered.

"Yes, yes please," Tenna breathed, his voice barely audible.

Spamton grinned and kissed him again. Tenna gasped into the kiss, then it settled into a moan as his hands landed on Spamton's shoulders. He parted his lips, and Spamton took control. He kissed deeper, his tongue running along Tenna's teeth before pushing inside. Tenna moaned around him, sucking on his tongue and leaning forward. Their lips parted for just a moment, before Spamton dove back in hungrily. His hands fumbled with Tenna's clothes, haphazardly unbuttoning his shirt and sliding it down his shoulders. Tenna helped him a little, messing with his belt buckle and shimmying his pants and boxers down his legs.

Spamton took a step back to admire. Tenna was a mess already. He hid his mouth behind the back of his hand, averting his gaze as he felt Spamton's eyes pick him apart. His fingers trailed along the edges of his panels, and his nails dug into soft silicone every so often. He brushed along the tip of Tenna's cock, painfully hard and leaking already. Tenna moaned with every touch, but it wasn't enough. He scrunched his face up, then he started to tug at the hem of Spamton's shirt.

Spamton chuckled, then clumsily undressed himself. He tossed his clothes to the side, then took his place above him once again. He captured his lips in a tender kiss, and his knee rubbed against the underside of his cock. His hand reached down to stroke, and Tenna shuddered in pleasure. Spamton wrapped his entire hand around his cock, then he started to stroke. "How's this, love?" he asked, a wide smile on his face as Tenna writhed beneath him.

While Spamton had never been with a man before, he knew what he liked. So, he took what he liked and did it with Tenna. His hand was gentle at first, then he clutched a bit harder, stroked a little faster. He rubbed his thumb along the sensitive tip, and Tenna moaned low in his throat. He lurched forward to kiss Spamton, and his hips bucked upwards in tandem with his hand. "Good, good, I-I feel-"

His moans hitched as Spamton sped up once again, tugging his cock in a way that made him see stars. He gasped as he leaned out of the kiss, and he fell onto his back, his hands clutching at the blankets. His legs wrapped around Spamton's waist, who adjusted his position so he was looming over him. He mouthed at the base of Tenna's neck, his tongue flicking expertly along his skin, and he bit down a little in the crook of it. Tenna squirmed, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath.

But, Spamton was relentless. His pace quickened again, and he grinned as Tenna's moans breached the octave. Heat pooled in his gut, and with a spasm and a gasp, he came all over Spamton's hand. "Oh, look at you," Spamton cooed. He placed delicate kisses to Tenna's cheeks as his hand slowed to a stop, covered in cum.

Tenna's hips rolled a few more times, his body quaking as he recovered from the rush of bliss. He tucked his head into Spamton's shoulder, his hands clutching at him, his nails digging into his skin. Spamton winced at the pain, but smiled nonetheless. "How do you feel?"

"Good," Tenna mumbled. "Was I..?"

"You were so good, Tens," Spamton whispered as he kissed him over and over. "Do you want more?"

"Please," Tenna whined.

Spamton nodded, then peppered him with kisses as he wiped his hand off on the blanket. He started to fumble with the bottle of lube. He paused his kisses for one moment so he could open it, which made Tenna whine in protest. But, he didn't have to complain for long, because one finger coated in lube slowly trailed down his body, then pressed inside his asshole. He gasped at the sensation, and nodded vigorously in Spamton's direction.

"Words, love," Spamton muttered. "More?"

"M-more," Tenna heaved, and he shoved his head back into the pillows with a loud and unashamed moan.

Spamton continued. His finger inched inside until he was knuckle deep, and he started to thrust it. Tenna's body trembled and quaked beneath him, and his hands fumbling around, scrambling for purchase on something, anything. They landed on Spamton's shoulders and squeezed. Spamton flinched, and Tenna's hands dropped instantly down to the blankets.

Spamton shook it off, then pressed a kiss to Tenna's lips. He bit his bottom lip, and Tenna gasped. Spamton took the opportunity to shove his tongue inside, stealing the air from his lungs. Tenna whined into him, his hips starting to buck up once again, silently trying to beg for more. Spamton pulled away and chuckled lightly. "More?"

"More," Tenna blurted. Spamton was happy to oblige. He lined up another finger, then let it slide inside of Tenna. He picked up the pace ever so slightly, and Tenna relished the pleasurable burn.

Spamton added a third finger soon after, then a fourth. He kept his pace controlled, not letting himself get overexcited and accidentally hurt him. Once he was sure Tenna was ready, he leaned back with a satisfied huff.

"Are you ready, Tenna?" he asked, and Tenna raised his head a little, his face flushed so brightly red, his screen flickering just a little.

"Y-yeah, I'm ready," he mustered, then tossed his head back and spread his legs wider. He lifted his hips, begging for attention.

Spamton chuckled, then adjusted his position after giving Tenna another passionate kiss filled with heat and far too much saliva. He lined his cock up to Tenna's asshole, then bottomed out in one smooth thrust. Tenna slapped his hand over his mouth, barely stifling a shriek of pleasure. Spamton bucked his hips forwards, his breath catching in his throat. "Good, Tenna?"

"G-good," he moaned out, his chest heaving with unsteady breaths.

Spamton's hands braced on Tenna's waist, then he started to move. He was hesitant at first, getting used to the feeling of warmth enveloping his cock. But, god, it felt incredible. Tenna clenched around him, and Spamton grunted a little, his eyes sliding shut in bliss. He leaned down, pressing harsh and quick kisses up Tenna's chest, before capturing his lips and shoving his tongue between them. Tenna moaned into him, his hands latching onto his wrists almost experimentally. Spamton patted his hands, letting him know that he could continue. Then, Tenna's nails pierced his skin, and Spamton winced in pain.

"Good, Tenna," he grinned. "Very good for me."

Tenna whined at that, then let himself become pliant under him. His nails raked along Spamton's skin, making it red and irritated. Spamton shuddered, then started to pick up the pace of his thrusts. He pulled all the way out, then slid back in, the tip of his cock consistently targeting one of Tenna's sensitive spots. He cried out at every sensation, and Spamton grinned.

"Found a good spot, huh, Tenna?" he teased, then grunted again as Tenna clenched even harder around him, his nails breaking skin and drawing tiny droplets of blood. Spamton hissed through his teeth. "Too much," he said softly, and Tenna's hands instantly dropped. He looked ashamed for just a moment, but a kiss to his lips stole that expression away and replaced it with bliss. Spamton guided his hands to his chest and held them close. Tenna latched onto the feeling of his heartbeat, and he leaned up, wanting another kiss. Spamton happily indulged him.

He fucked Tenna lovingly, purposefully. Every thrust had meaning, every buck of his hips drew out another moan. Tenna was riddled with pleasure, and his body started to tremble. Spamton's pace faltered for a moment as swells of heat pooled in his gut. He captured Tenna's lips in a bruising kiss, then at the last moment before he came, he pulled out. He spilled all over Tenna's belly, his breath hitching as he let out a low, mumbling moan.

He collapsed next to Tenna, his arms instinctively wrapping around him and pulling him close to his chest. Tenna latched onto his arm, tucking his face into his shoulder, pressing haphazard kisses to his hot and sweaty skin. His hand reached up to caress Spamton's face, his fingers carding through the hair plastered to his cheek. He gave a wobbly smile, then hummed in bliss. He let out a bubble of laughter, then a satisfied sigh. "That was... amazing, Spammy."

Spamton grinned and tightened his grip around him, his legs entangling with Tenna's. Their mess mingled with the sheets, but they were too enraptured with each other. They gazes never once strayed, and Spamton gave him a slow, deliberate, loving kiss. "How did you feel?"

"So good," he whispered. "I-I didn't feel like I couldn't control myself. It just felt natural."

Spamton hummed happily. "I'm glad, Tenna." He paused. "You felt incredible. Like I could- like I could stay in you for hours."

Tenna's face erupted into blush, and he bashfully shoved his face into the center of Spamton's chest. "And you say you're the flustered one."

Spamton grinned. "I can be sexy in the moment."

Tenna snorted. "Sexy. Sure." He lifted his head again, catching Spamton's gaze. His eyes were wide and brimming with light. He stared down at him lovingly, almost protectively. Tenna inched forward, and Spamton was happy to kiss him again and again. "Do you want to try... uhm." He trailed off. "Being under me?"

Spamton's face lit up. "At your full size?"

Tenna pressed his lips into a thin, worried line. "Maybe not there yet?"

Spamton nodded, only slightly disappointed. But, he was still excited nonetheless. "I'd really like that, Tenna. But, I think we should clean up first."

Tenna sighed longingly, but agreed. With another kiss, they stood and made their way into the bathroom. They cleaned themselves with some damp towels, then got dressed and went back to bed. Spamton had helped himself to some of Tenna's clothes with a cheeky grin. Tenna only chuckled and kissed his forehead before exchanging the sheets and blankets for clean ones.

Spamton laid on his back, arms spread wide. He beckoned to Tenna with a smile. Tenna positioned himself over him, then slowly laid on top of him. As his weight came down on him, Spamton exhaled a deep breath. He wheezed a little as Tenna stopped supporting his weight, and fully laid flat on him.

The pressure felt incredible. Spamton's face was tucked into Tenna's shoulder, his arms wrapped around his neck. Tenna's hands were in a kind of awkward position, pinned between Spamton's sides and the bed. But, they wormed their way under him, and his hands clasped together around his back. The weight sitting on his chest made it slightly difficult to breathe, but in the best way possible. He was pinned, completely and entirely, but that was what made him relax the most.

Even if he wanted to do something, or felt anxious about anything, he was trapped and wrapped in love. Tenna kissed the sides of his face, while Spamton inhaled deep breaths, taking in his scent.

"Good?" Tenna whispered.

"Mh-hm," Spamton managed, although his voice was muffled. He closed his eyes and fully relaxed, letting his limbs fall like stones in water.

"Tell me if you want me to move," Tenna offered.

Spamton nodded, but he had no intention of letting go of this any time soon. "I love you, Tenna," he muttered.

Tenna kissed him chastely. "I love you, Spammy."

Chapter Text

Going back to the studio was a challenge, to say the least. Spamton didn't really want to be on screen, but he knew that he needed to keep himself busy with something. Otherwise, he was going to lose his mind.

So, on that Friday, he appeared as usual on TV Time, laughing and chatting with the contestants during the game show. The stage welcomed him with open arms. The crowds seemed to be even more enthusiastic that he was back. They cheered and screamed for him, and Spamton couldn't help but feel happy. These people liked him, not only as a performer, but as a person as well. They supported him.

He'd actually a hefty amount of fanmail following the live event, with many of them expressing sympathy towards him, and a hint of anger towards his brothers. Tenna sat next to him as he read, holding him close as he whispered love into his ear. Spamton cried a little with every letter. The warmth in his heart was something he'd never experienced until he started working with Tenna.

But, with news of the live event spreading like wildfire, there came another issue. One that Spamton always dreaded.

Reporters were all over the studio, hogging the green room while they stalked and waited for Spamton or Tenna to emerge from the stage or their dressing rooms.

It had started out as one. A young woman shoving microphones in Spamton's face, pretty much shouting question after question at him, demanding answers for why things were cut short, why those people called him slurs, if they were true, if Spamton really was a-

Tenna swooped in to save him before he could break down. He whisked him away to his office, glaring daggers at the reporter. He had a Zapper escort her from the property. But, things only got worse from there.

Spamton still wasn't going on the talk shows, he hadn't been able to with how stressed he was balancing two businesses at once. And he was glad, too, because the talk show guests would bring up the incident to Tenna, clearly trying to dig into the gossip and get those juicy details. Tenna was struggling to shut them down every time, because they were so damn insistent.

Then, they started to mention the Addisons by name. Not just the talk show guests, but the reporters as well. That made Tenna's blood run cold.

As Tenna stepped out off the stage and into the green room, he was immediately hounded by a reporter.

"Is it true that your co-host Spamton G. Spamton was part of the Addison Sales Company?"

Tenna blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Spamton G. Spamton used to go by White Addison, isn't that right?" the reporter droned, her eyes staring directly into Tenna's face, her microphone as far up as it would go, but it barely reached the center of Tenna's chest.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Tenna glared down at her and pushed past, making his way to his office.

She raced around and stopped directly in front of him. "The Addisons claimed that Spamton G. Spamton, or White Addison, is their youngest brother. But, he defected from the family business and started his own."

Tenna froze. "You spoke with them?"

"Is it true or not, Mr. Tenna?" she insisted, her eyes refusing to falter.

"Nothing those Addisons say can be taken as fact. They are the ones harassing me and my co-host," Tenna sneered.

"And why is that, Mr. Tenna? Why would they, all of a sudden, start targeting you and your co-host? Specifically, with slurs directed towards homosexuals." Her eyes sparkled, her grin turned a little sinister. "Are you romantically involved?"

Something in Tenna snapped. His screen dimmed, and he grew a few feet taller, hoping to intimidate. "You will leave this studio, or I will have you removed."

She glared. "No press is bad press, Mr. Tenna," she warned. "The truth will come out whether you like it or not. So, why not spin it to you?"

"I said you will leave." He pushed past her once again. She huffed, then whipped around and stormed away.

But, her words stuck.

What were the Addisons telling people? Were they spilling lies? Slander?

He huffed an angry breath, then he continued to his office. When he pushed the door open, Spamton was already there, sitting at his desk and sipping whiskey. He turned and grinned, but it slid into a frown once he saw Tenna's tense expression. "What's going on?" he asked.

Tenna sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, then sat across from Spamton and poured himself a glass of whiskey. Spamton frown deepened. "I don't want to worry you, Spams. But, your brothers." Spamton flinched. "They're talking to the media about what happened."

Spamton set down his glass before he dropped it, his hands trembling. "What?"

"They're going to the press, and they're giving them information about you," he grimaced. "Your old name. Your involvement."

Spamton's hands clenched into tight fists. His eyes shifted to his glass, his gaze unfocused and distant.

"I'm sorry, Spamton," Tenna ducked his head and whispered. "If I had known-"

Spamton shook his head with a forceful sigh. "It's fine. We'll just deal with it."

Tenna shrank forward a little, his expression becoming worrisome. "Are you okay?"

Spamton scoffed at that. He turned his head to the side, his cheeks slightly pale. "I'll be fine." He smoothed his hair back, then pressed his hands to the sides of his face and squeezed. "What are we even going to say?"

"What do you want them to know?" Tenna asked.

Spamton shrugged. "Nothing. I don't want them to know anything about me being related to the Addisons. I worked too fucking hard to break away from them. I'm not one of them." His hands clutched at his biceps, his fingers curling around his jacket.

Tenna thought for a moment. "Spams, I don't think that's possible anymore," he whispered. Spamton flinched again. "We can try our hardest, but the thing is, they know that you're connected somehow."

Spamton groaned and dropped his hands, then crossed his arms and bounced his leg. "There isn't anything we can do?"

"In regards to that, no. But, we have something they don't. The audience loves you, Spams. The people at the event went to bat for you. They aren't going to judge you for being related to them. It just... it's just an explanation. They don't need the story. They don't deserve the story. But, to squash the rumors, they should get an explanation." Tenna reached his hand across the desk, and Spamton hesitantly took it. He rubbed circles onto his knuckles with his thumb and offered a reassuring smile. "We'll write down what we want to say. Then," he sighed a little. "We'll go over it during the next talk show. Is that okay?"

Spamton thought for a moment. "I have to be there for that. Don't I?"

Tenna frowned slightly. "Yeah. I'm sorry."

He leaned forward, putting his chin in his hand as he rested his elbow on the desk. He squeezed Tenna's hand a few times. "As soon as it's over, things will be fine again." Then, his eyes widened. "We aren't going to tell them about us. Are we?"

At the sudden panic in his voice, Tenna's frown deepened. "Not if you don't want to."

"We can't," his voice broke. "I-I can't- we- I-"

Tenna stood from his seat and crossed over to him. He knelt in front of him and took both of his hands in his, and held them close to his chest. "They don't need to know. I promise."

Spamton's eyes darted to the side, and he nodded once. "I'm sorry, Tenna. I-I just- I can't. It's... everything's bad enough as it is. I-I-"

"You don't need to explain yourself," he said gently. He kissed his knuckles and gazed up at him with a soft smile. "Whatever will make you comfortable, Spams."

Spamton's breath caught in his throat, and his shoulders slumped forward. He slid out of the chair and into Tenna's arms. He exhaled a shaky sigh, then closed his eyes and relished the warmth. "Thank you, Tenna."

Tenna kissed the top of his head in response. "Are you ready to go home?" he asked.

Spamton nodded. "You don't have anything else to do here?"

Tenna shook his head. "The crew can take care of it." He helped Spamton to his feet, but they stayed close together for a few more moments. Spamton reached up and cupped Tenna's cheek, then kissed him. Tenna was happy to reciprocate, kissing him over and over with a grin on his face.

Spamton laughed a little. Some of the stress melted away, and all that remained was Tenna.

But, he couldn't shake that feeling of dread.

His brothers. Pink.

He was ruining everything that Spamton had worked so hard to get.

His freedom, his business, his identity, his love.

He was going to tear it to shreds. He was going to kick him down and yank him back by the scruff of his neck. He wasn't going to stop at anything.

That made Spamton shiver. He tucked himself into Tenna's arms, hiding his face from the world. Tenna wrapped his arms around him. Safe. Secure. Loved.

After a minute of silence, Spamton broke away from the embrace. He kissed Tenna once more, then he started to gather his things. Wordlessly, Tenna did the same. They headed out to Tenna's car, then drove home. They were quiet on the way, but their hands were knitted together in the center console.

Once they got home, Spamton took a quick shower. He dressed himself in some of Tenna's clothes with a grin on his face. Then, he went to relax on the couch, a glass of whiskey nearby, and a stack of paperwork in front of him. He turned on a movie, then got to work.

Meanwhile, Tenna got started on dinner. He hummed as he worked, his feet and fingers tapping to imaginary music. He sent the occasional glance over to Spamton, slightly worried.

Tenna hated dealing with the press. They were pushy and obnoxious, and never took no for an answer. He'd rarely had to interact with them, since he was very rarely involved in any kind of celebrity drama. He kept to himself, and that was that.

But, this was all new. The whole situation made him terribly anxious and agitated. He didn't want those people anywhere near him or Spamton, but they swarmed like flies. If they caught a whiff of anything worth speaking about, nothing stopped them from getting what they wanted.

Then, of course, there were Spamton's brothers, keen on tormenting him no matter what. It was terrifying, to say the least, the lengths that they would go to keep him down on the ground, to keep him hurting and compliant.

Everything about it was infuriating. Tenna was having a hard time keeping himself calm whenever Pink was mentioned. He'd nearly thrown that reporter out the fucking window for even mentioning him and the other Addisons.

And Spamton had been doing well. He'd opened up to Tenna even more. He came to him, asking for help, or affection, or anything else. He was doing good.

Now, his progress was up in the air.

Tenna saw that look in his eyes. Pure terror and panic, mixed with anger and exhaustion. These last few months had been hard, extremely hard. There was no doubt about it. Spamton needed a good moment. He needed a break. Tenna wasn't able to give him that. Not yet, at least. But, as soon as this all blew over, things would go back to normal. They could be carefree again, laughing and joking and pretending the world didn't exist.

It would just take time and patience. Tenna could do that. He was sure of it.

He huffed to himself as he finished up dinner, a simple meal of spaghetti and meatballs, then he wiped his hands on a towel. "Spammy," he called. "Dinner's ready."

Spamton sat up from the couch, placing his paperwork to the side. He paused the movie, then stretched his arms up over his head. He made his way into the kitchen, stopping by Tenna to give him a kiss on the lips as thanks. He got himself a bowl and dished up. He sat at the table, and Tenna took his place next to him. They ate in comfortable silence, leaning into each other, taking in the warmth and proximity.

Tenna looked down at Spamton, who had a somewhat blank expression on his face. He looked tired. Not just physically, but emotionally exhausted as well. There were dark circles under his half-lidded eyes, his brow was furrowed slightly, his shoulders hunched. Tenna's heart ached at the sight.

"Do you want to go for a hike tomorrow?" he asked.

Slightly startled, Spamton blinked a few times. He cleared his throat, then opened his mouth to speak. When no words came out, he made a frustrated sound. But, he nodded in response.

Tenna kissed the top of his head. "Same place?"

Spamton nodded again with a small smile.

"Alright, love. Let me know if you need anything, okay?"

Spamton tilted his head up, then kissed Tenna's lips and cupped his cheek. He shifted to press their foreheads together, his eyes falling shut. Tenna kissed him again, then they continued to eat their dinner.

Once he was finished eating, Spamton leaned into Tenna's side a little more than usual. His hand crept under the table, carefully resting at the top of Tenna's thigh. Tenna made a little noise of surprise, and Spamton hesitated. He started to retract his hand, but Tenna shifted, lifting his leg up ever so slightly, pressing into the warmth of Spamton's palm.

Grinning, Spamton's fingers curled around his thigh, his pinky inching dangerously close to Tenna's cock. He lifted his gaze to Tenna's face, which was now slightly flushed, and his smile turned wobbly and bashful.

Spamton cleared his throat quietly, then spoke. "Upstairs?"

Tenna nodded hurriedly, and shoved his empty plate a few inches forward. He abruptly stood from his seat, and all but dragged Spamton upstairs with a wide grin and a small bit of laughter. Before they even made it to the bedroom, their lips crashed together. Frantic, uncoordinated, a mess of tongues and teeth.

Spamton took the lead, grasping onto the front of Tenna's shirt and yanking him down further. He pressed his tongue to his lips, and with a moan, they parted. Tenna shrank a few feet, putting his body into Spamton's hands, relishing and shuddering with every gentle touch.

Spamton urged for him to sit on the edge of the bed, and Tenna couldn't help but obey. He hid his mouth behind the back of his hand, breathing heavily as Spamton fell to his knees. He fumbled with Tenna's pants and pulled them down and off, tossing them to the side. Tenna lifted his shirt and threw it somewhere. He sat with his body on display, leaning back against one hand, his legs spreading wide.

Spamton licked his lips at the sight of him. He planted butterfly kisses to the insides of his thighs as he held him open. Tenna's chest fluttered as he stared down at him, his face pink. He let out a quiet whine as Spamton drew nearer to his cock. With a cheeky grin on his face, Spamton let his hot breath coat the tip of his cock. He paused, though, which made Tenna whine again, more urgent and demanding.

"What do you want?" Spamton asked with a raised eyebrow, no doubt being a jerk on purpose.

"Wa-want you," Tenna mumbled. "Just you."

"Just me?" Spamton leaned a little closer. "You want this?" He licked an experimental stripe along the entire underside of Tenna's cock, which made him let out a long and low moan.

"Yes!" Tenna blurted, his hips bucking forward a little. "Please, please."

"Anything for you, Tenna." Spamton moved closer, dropping his jaw, opening his mouth wide. While he hadn't sucked a cock before, he knew the general idea. He knew what made him see stars, so no doubt, Tenna would feel the same.

Spamton nearly gagged as the tip of Tenna's cock struck the back of his throat. His jaw stretched at the size of him, still massive even when he had shrank down a few feet. Spamton inhaled deep through his nose, then closed his lips around Tenna's cock. He ran his tongue along the underside of it once again, and Tenna moaned in response. He leaned back further, his head tilting towards the ceiling, his screen flickering. His hands tightened around the blankets, his knuckles shading white as Spamton's head started to bob.

It took some getting used to, the feeling of his throat being full. Every instinct in Spamton screamed at him to stop, to take it out, to breathe. But, with a twinkle in his eye, he sped up. He braced himself on Tenna's knees, spreading his legs further so he could get in closer. As he swallowed around Tenna's cock, he started to hum.

Tenna all but shrieked at the sudden vibrations and pleasure, and his hips started to buck faster. His chest heaved as he struggled to breathe. His hands fluttered from the blankets to Spamton's head, unsure if he was allowed to touch, to guide.

Spamton didn't even think. He latched onto Tenna's wrists and guided them to the side of his head. Tenna whimpered as he held Spamton's head in place and gave a few experimental thrusts. Spamton slid his cock out of his mouth with a pop and sent him a grin. "You can be rough, Tens."

Then, he opened his mouth wide once again, and completely engulfed Tenna's cock. He swallowed around him over and over, his tongue swirling around the tip. Tenna made an apprehensive sound, then his fingers wormed their way into Spamton's hair and clutched tight. Spamton sent him an affirming glance, wincing a little at the pain, but in a good way. Tenna gained a bit more confidence, his hips bucking, then with a deep inhale, he started to fuck Spamton's throat.

He yanked Spamton forward, eliciting a muffled yelp. Spamton's hands were on Tenna's thighs, holding on for support. Tenna moaned, loud and unashamed, as he thrust with newfound vigor. He gasped as Spamton started to hum again, although he gagged and choked every so often. The feel of his throat squeezing tight around him made his vision go blurry, and his hips started to stutter in their rhythm.

With a few more deep thrusts and a low moan, Tenna came directly down Spamton's throat. The tears in his eyes spilled as he choked, cum seeping out from his lips as he pulled off. He swallowed and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes wide and his face completely red. He heaved, trying to catch his breath. He sent a look to Tenna, who wasn't doing much better.

He had fallen to his back, his body twitching with the aftershocks of his orgasm. He mumbled something that Spamton couldn't hear, then rolled over to his side and slowly sat up. He held a hand to his head, feeling dizzy and giddy.

Spamton remained on the floor, but one glance from Tenna made him grin. "How was that, Tenna?"

Tenna snorted as he started to laugh. "Fucking phenomenal, Spammy." He patted the spot next to him, and Spamton scrambled to be next to him. Tenna's hands started to wander, lifting clothing and slowly starting to take them off. Spamton helped him, hurriedly undressing and slotting himself between his arms. "What do you want from me?" he asked quietly.

Spamton flushed, his previous confidence fading into something akin to submission. His eyes went wide and he hid his face, praying that Tenna didn't notice the way he went a little too rigid. He cleared his throat. "I-I don't know," he mumbled. "Uh your- uhm. Hand? Is fine?"

Tenna nodded and shifted their positions. He grew to his usual size, completely overtaking Spamton's body. Spamton made a noise of surprise as he felt Tenna grow. He was wedged between his arms, curled up a little, so his whole body barely took up the entirety of Tenna's chest. The difference always baffled him. But, it was comfortable. Spamton relaxed into his chest, feeling his heart beat against his skin. He could get used to this, to being taken care of like this. Although, he couldn't shake the growing sense of anxiety, screaming at him that all of this was wrong.

He shouldn't be with a man.

He shouldn't be submitting to a man.

He needed to be assertive.

He needed to take control.

But, it felt oddly natural at the same time, to be pliant like this. To let someone else take the control from him. To let Tenna take control of him.

Tenna's hand spread out along Spamton's belly, covering him almost completely. Spamton gasped at the warm feeling of Tenna's palm, his fingers ever so slightly digging into his skin, but turned in a way so his nails didn't hurt him. Spamton shuddered, then leaned his head back. Tenna captured his lips in a kiss, then his hand inched down to Spamton's achingly hard cock.

He wrapped his hand around him and started to stroke, his thumb rubbing circles along the sensitive tip. Spamton moaned quietly, his eyes screwing shut as his hands latched onto Tenna's wrist. Tenna held him by the chin, turning his face to kiss him over and over. He grinned into the kiss as Spamton moaned for him, an unintentional sound that made his face burn with shame and embarrassment.

He hardly ever made noise while he was being intimate with somebody. The occasional grunt, perhaps. A moan, hardly ever. He'd never felt the need, the urge, the want. But, as Tenna's hand moved in a long pull, almost teasing, Spamton let out another moan. His throat clenched as the sound emerged, high-pitch and needy, yet quiet and apprehensive as well.

Tenna kissed him and nodded into him. He stroked faster, and Spamton's body started to tremble. Tenna's face shifted, his lips finding and kissing the crook of Spamton's neck. Instantly, shivers ran down his spine, and Spamton whined. Tenna mouthed at the sensitive skin there, his teeth grazing, but not biting. Spamton's head lolled to the side, exposing more of him. Tenna was happy to kiss there too, all along the side of his neck and to the backs of his ears.

Spamton shuddered from all of the pleasure. He moaned as Tenna nibbled his earlobe, and more shivers ran down his spine. He bucked his hips, frantic for more friction. Tenna was happy to give. His hand stroked faster, held tighter. His lips kissed deeper, his teeth biting down ever so slightly. Spamton cried out, more tears brimming in his eyes. Tenna kissed them away, which made him tremble.

Heat pooled in Spamton's gut, and with a few more strokes from Tenna, his back arched, and he came. He heaved as he covered the blankets and Tenna's hand in cum. He quickly turned his head, finding and capturing Tenna's lips in a passionate kiss. Their breath fell hot and heavy between them, lips connected by a few strands of saliva. Spamton's eyes slid shut, and he surrendered into Tenna's grasp.

Tenna held him close, one arm around his waist, the other around his shoulders. He pulled him to his chest, tight and secure. "How was that, Spams?" he whispered in his ear.

Spamton could only nod as he struggled to steady his breathing. "Good," he mustered. "Good, good for me, Tenna. So good."

Tenna grinned at the praise, then nuzzled his face even closer. "Was the neck stuff good?"

Spamton chuckled lightly. "You have no idea how much I liked that."

"I think I do," Tenna said, peppering his cheeks with kisses. "I got you to moan."

Spamton's face flushed a bright and burning red, and he reached around to smack Tenna's arm. "Don't say it like that!" He crossed his arms and grumbled. "It's embarrassing."

Tenna shrugged, then planted a chaste kiss to the crook of his neck once again. Spamton made an involuntary sound, a soft whimper, as his eyes squeezed shut once again. "Careful," he mumbled through gritted teeth. "You're gonna get me hard again."

"Would that be so bad?" Tenna teased as he open-mouth kissed it, letting his tongue press into his skin, his teeth grazing against him.

Spamton shuddered in pleasure, and his cock started to ache again. "Tenna," he whined. "Tenna, you-"

Tenna didn't waste a single second. He wrapped his hand around Spamton's cock again, his lips never once leaving his neck. Spamton moaned, his head falling back to Tenna's shoulder. Tenna stroked him purposefully, overwhelming him with kisses and soft bites to his neck. "Love you like this," he mumbled. "Love you being in my arms, mine, all mine."

Spamton flushed at the sudden possessiveness, and that sent another bolt of arousal to his cock. "I-I'm-"

"Mine," Tenna repeated, more firm than before. He bit down a little harder, and Spamton whimpered at the tiny bloom of pain. But, he nodded.

"K-keep going," he managed between huffing breaths. He felt his body go slack, his mind fading into fog as he let Tenna take care of him.

He let Tenna take care of him.

Tenna stroked him faster and bit down harder. His teeth sank into his skin, leaving dents that rose back up within a few moments. He made a noise of approval, then kissed and licked the slightly bruised skin. Spamton came not too long after, his body twitching, slightly overstimulated. He heaved and moaned as Tenna brought him down from his high, luring him with kisses and hands roaming along his chest.

Spamton sighed contentedly as he relaxed into Tenna's arms.

It felt right. It felt good.

They laid in silence for a good long moment, then Spamton spoke up. "I love you, Tenna."

Tenna kissed his lips. "I love you, Spams. No matter what, I'm here."

Spamton nodded at that. "Thank you."

"Nothing to thank me for," Tenna mused. "We'll get through this, okay? Then, once it's all over, we can relax. It's just for a little while longer."

Spamton sighed. "I'll think of what I want to say."

"I'll help," Tenna offered.

"Thank you, Tenna," he said again. That earned him another kiss. After a moment, he groaned. "We should clean up."

Tenna's arms only held him tighter, his face nuzzling closer. "That's a tomorrow problem."

"Tenna," he complained. "I'm sticky."

Tenna hummed. "Want me to lick it off?"

Spamton shrieked and smacked his shoulder. "No! Ew! Gross!"

"You didn't have a problem with it earlier," Tenna grinned.

"Ugh, no, I'm-" He brought himself out of Tenna's arms, his face burning so brightly red, that Tenna swore there was steam radiating from him. "I'm cleaning. It's- ugh. Nasty."

Tenna gave a long, dramatic sigh, then he got to work as well. As soon as he was cleaned, he changed the bed sheets and blankets. He put on a pair of boxers, then tossed some to Spamton as well. As soon as they were ready, they collapsed back into bed. Spamton patted his chest, and Tenna shrank down a little bit. Then, he took his place above Spamton, lowering himself to trap him under his weight. Spamton grinned, then closed his eyes, and soon fell asleep.

Tenna let himself relax held him. He could deal with everything tomorrow. All that mattered right then was Spamton.

Chapter Text

As the time drew nearer to the airing of the talk show, the dread in Spamton's stomach only grew. It twisted into knots, making him feel queasy and unsettled. His legs were jelly as he fumbled with his tie, his fingers uncoordinated and clumsy. He looked at himself in the mirror. His eyes were slightly wide, a little bloodshot, and he was pale. He inhaled a deep breath, then steeled his nerves.

He glanced down at the script and read through a few of the talking points, muttering his answers under his breath. He stepped away from the vanity and sat on the couch, his leg bouncing as he continued to read. All of them pertained to him and his relationship to the Addison Sales Company, nothing relating to his and Tenna's relationship. That was no concern of the media, and Spamton's anxiety would eat him alive if the public knew he was queer.

He was hardly okay with the studio knowing that he and Tenna were an item. They never mentioned if, of course. Except for Elnina and Lanino every so often, making comments about how their love could be as pure as their own. It made Spamton cringe, but he knew that he had no room to judge. He'd said some pretty sappy stuff to Tenna plenty of times before. Nevertheless, their open support did make him smile a little.

The crew honestly didn't seem surprised at all, now that Spamton thought about it. There was that incident with the Pippins a few months ago, when they were caught together in Spamton's dressing room, faces a little too close and hands holding a little too tight to be deemed innocent and platonic. They had clearly gossiped about it to the others, but nobody batted an eye. It seemed like they'd been counting down the days, biding their time, and waiting for either Spamton or Tenna to make a move on each other.

Spamton set the paper down beside him, then covered his face with his hands as more dread flooded him. He crossed his arms and hunched forward, his leg bouncing more furiously as he ran the lines over and over in his head. He was so worried about slipping up, spilling everything, or making a fool out of himself as he stammered and fumbled over his words. He wasn't used to the talk show aspect. He'd only done it once, and he was talking about his cars. Not something serious. Not his brothers.

His brothers.

Spamton made a small noise and his face scrunched up. His hands started to tremble as they clutched his sleeves, his nails itching to dig into his skin. He hurried to sit on them, so he wouldn't give in to temptation. He rocked back and forth ever so slightly, his teeth worrying at his bottom lip.

They would see. No doubt, they would see the broadcast.

Hear how Spamton would talk about them.

Hear how he would portray them.

Hear how he would disgrace their family name.

Spamton was going to vomit. He pressed his hand to his mouth and squeezed his eyes shut, frantically swallowing down the bile bubbling in the back of his throat.

They would see him stumble.

Watch him scramble.

Point.

Laugh.

Say the truth.

The truth.

Spamton's eyes shot wide open, and he made another little noise. Then, he shot up from the couch and rushed to the sink, barely managing to make it in time before he vomited down the drain. He heaved as tears pricked the corners of his eyes.

He couldn't.

He couldn't.

He shook. His knees failed him, and he sank to the ground, holding himself up by one trembling hand clutched on the edge of the counter. He heaved again.

Pink would go back to the media.

He would say the truth.

Spill his secrets.

Tear him apart.

He would do anything.

Spamton shook his head, trying desperately to clear the fog.

He needed to do this. He needed to clear the air before Pink could do anything. He needed to take control. He needed to be assertive. Prove to Pink that he didn't need him, never needed him, and will never need him.

Spamton had it all. He shouldn't be dragged down by ghosts from his past. He couldn't let them tear down everything he'd worked so hard to build.

He was better than them. He would never be like them.

He was stronger, braver, more confident than he had been when he was young. And, he had someone next to him, guiding him, supporting him.

Spamton stood on unsteady legs, then turned the water on so he could rinse his face. He grimaced at the sour taste in his mouth. He found a granola bar and hastily unwrapped it, hoping it would settle the rumbling in his stomach. He drank a glass of water. His head started to clear.

He huffed out a breath, then squared his shoulders.

He could do this.

He knew exactly what to say.

He knew exactly what was going to happen.

Tenna made sure that there would be no surprises, no questions, no outbursts, nothing.

Spamton let out a hefty breath, then faced the mirror.

He fixed his suit and adjusted his tie. Then, he turned towards the door. He closed his eyes for a moment, muttering an "Okay," under his breath, then he started towards it. He opened the door just in time to see Tenna making his way down the hall towards him. He lit up once he saw him, his lips lifting into a small smile. Spamton's shoulders relaxed, and they met in the middle.

Tenna's hand outstretched, and Spamton latched onto it, squeezing a few times before letting go. "You ready, Spams?" he asked, his smile turning into a more serious expression, his lips lightly pressed into a line.

Spamton averted his gaze and gave a half-shrug. "As ready as I'll ever be." He checked the hall, and once he was sure it was empty, he beckoned Tenna down to him. Tenna bent over, and Spamton gently kissed his lips, his hands latching onto his wrists, holding him close. Tenna wrapped his arms around him, and Spamton relished the few moments of warmth before he pulled away. "Thank you, Tenna."

Tenna kissed his forehead firmly, his hand holding onto his shoulder. "You have your notes?" he asked once he pulled away.

Spamton nodded. "I looked over them before I came out."

Tenna straightened his posture, then ran his fingers through Spamton's hair, fixing it just a little. "If you need help at all, just look to me, and I'll take over. Okay?"

Spamton hummed. "I will." He sucked in a breath, then started walking towards the green room. Tenna followed close behind.

They passed by a few of the crew, and they all gave a slightly worried thumbs-up, their smiles strained. Spamton didn't pay them much attention, his anxiety gave him tunnel vision. His path was straight to the stage so he could get this over with as soon as possible.

Once they were in the wings, Tenna secured a microphone to his lapel. He kissed his forehead again, and Spamton held onto his hands for a few moments too long. He sighed, then dropped his hands and turned towards the stage, his face scrunching up a little. He exhaled forcefully, then squared his shoulders. He made his way to the set, then sat down in an armchair for him. Tenna followed behind, and took his spot at his desk.

It was drastically different than every other talk show episode. The camera wasn't rolling yet, there wasn't an audience behind the wall, and there wouldn't be any pizzazz or special effects. It was going to be quiet and respectful, for Spamton's sake. Just a simple explanation, a way to clear the air.

Once they were all set, Tenna sent a thumbs-up to the Shadowguy behind the camera. Then, after one more glance to Spamton, who nodded, the camera started rolling.

Tenna jumped right in.

"Good evening," he gave a warm smile to the camera, a little unnerved at the silence that responded. But, he carried on nonetheless. "Tonight's show is going to be a little different. As I'm sure a lot of you are aware, we had our very first TV Time live event a short while ago. During that event, we had some hecklers who decided to interrupt everybody's good time."

Spamton's hands trembled a little. A bead of sweat dripped from his forehead. He swallowed thickly, hoping it wasn't too noticeable.

"There have been some questions raised about those people, so that's what this is tonight," Tenna continued. "We're going to answer the most relevant questions that have been brought up." He turned his attention to Spamton, whose eyes darted to the side for a brief moment.

He breathed, then he started to speak. "The biggest questions were who are these people, and what connection do we have to them? Well, to put it simply." His nails dug into the skin of his wrist for a moment before he folded his hands together. "They are the faces of the Addison Sales Company, a family business in downtown Cyber City. And, my older brothers." He wrung his hands together anxiously.

"Before I started my own business, Big Shot Autos, I played a small part in the family business. But, I split off and went out to begin a new chapter of my life." He grimaced. "To leave a family business is an ordeal, to say the least. They weren't all-too happy with it, jealous of my success, and all. So, when I partnered with Mr. Tenna," he sent a quick glance to Tenna. His comforting smile gave him confidence, so Spamton sat up a little straighter, spoke a little louder. "They weren't pleased."

He exhaled a breath, then looked directly into the camera. "My brothers are immature, as I'm sure you've guessed. They stormed into an event and harassed Mr. Tenna and I, risking their business to do so. Their actions have baffled me completely, and I..." He trailed off for just a moment. "I'm ashamed to even be related to them in any sense."

A flicker of anger lit up inside of him, and he looked away from the camera, biting back tears. "I worked my ass off to break away from their company."

I worked my ass off to prove who I am.

I worked so fucking hard to give myself my identity.

To give myself a business.

To give myself a life away from you.

You've ruined everything for me from the moment I was born.

Spamton suppressed a shudder. His hands clenched into tight fists. "I've worked far too hard to be torn down by a few words, no matter who they are spoken by."

His lips lifted into a small smile. "I would like to thank each and every person who attended the live event. Your support during the incident is what led me to make this statement. You've given me the courage to speak up against them, and whatever lies they've been spreading about Mr. Tenna and I."

The smile didn't last, however, as he continued to speak. "There has also been talk and rumors spreading thanks to reporters and such, which I would like to put a stop to here. Mine and Mr. Tenna's relationship is strictly professional. Anything stated otherwise is untrue." He tried desperately to hide the waver in his tone.

For a moment, it felt wrong to deny it.

Spamton's stomach twisted into a knot. He didn't even want to see the look on Tenna's face as he spoke. He couldn't face the disappointment. He couldn't.

Spamton cleared his throat. "To pry into our personal lives is a great overstepping of boundaries, which we will not tolerate at any point."

He glanced at Tenna, whose expression hadn't shifted since the last time. But, he sat up a little straighter, as Spamton's portion had come to an end.

"Going forward," Tenna picked up. "We won't be answering any questions in regard to this incident. Everything will be dealt with in a professional manner, and with maturity and respect. Thank you all for being flexible with us as we navigate this unfortunate situation." He gave a warm smile. "Our regular program will begin in just a few moments. Thank you once again for tuning in."

Then, the camera shut off. The Shadowguy behind it gave a thumbs up, and Spamton's entire body slouched. He leaned forward, his head falling between his legs as he exhaled a long, hard breath.

Tenna stood and crossed over to him. He knelt in front of him and put a hand on his head. "You alright?"

Spamton shrugged haphazardly. "I want to go home."

Tenna nodded. "The rerun's already set up," he said quietly. "Do you need anything?"

Spamton shook his head. He lifted his head a little, and caught the look on Tenna's face. Sympathetic, worried, but warm and comforting at the same time. He fell into his arms, and Tenna helped him stand.

"We'll get you home, okay? How does pasta sound for dinner?" he offered.

Spamton couldn't help but smile a little. "Pasta sounds good."

Tenna led Spamton to his office so they could collect their things, and he spoke with Mike for a short while about more reruns. All the while, Spamton trailed behind him, silent and overthinking.

Should he have said any of that?

He knew that Pink was going to see.

What was he going to say? What was he going to do?

Would he retaliate? Humiliate him more?

Or, would he finally back off? Would he finally see that Spamton wouldn't ever go back, wouldn't ever be part of that family again?

Spamton prayed the latter was true. He didn't know what he would do if he ever saw Pink's face again.

Once Tenna was finished, they made their way out to the car.

The drive home was silent. Spamton's leg bounced as he zoned out, staring through the window at the world passing by. He didn't even register that they had reached Tenna's house until he felt a hand on his wrist. He jumped a little in surprise, then got out of the car. Tenna unlocked the door and they stepped inside. He went into the bedroom and got changed before he started on dinner.

Meanwhile, Spamton headed to the bathroom for a shower. He turned the shower on, then stood in front of the mirror, trembling a little as he started to undress.

The words replayed in his mind, everything he'd said during the address.

He'd meant every word. Every single one.

Pink couldn't control him anymore, no matter how hard he tried. Spamton wouldn't take it. He couldn't take it anymore.

If he was so confident about it, then why did he tremble?

Why did he shake at the idea of Pink standing before him, demanding he say everything to his face?

Why did his nails instinctively dig into his skin, aching to scratch, desperate to silence the voice in his head?

Why did Spamton still bend to his will, listening to every beck and call like a fucking dog?

The sound of the shower behind him felt like needles in his ears, high-pitch and nonstop. He held his hands in front of him and stared down at his scarred wrists, his breath hitching in his throat. His face paled.

He heaved once, tears brimming in his eyes. His hands trembled as his vision blurred. He shook and stared, unable to move, unable to breathe, unable to think.

The shower thundered behind him. Spamton's legs felt weak. He slowly sank down to the floor, hugging his knees to his chest, and he started to rock back and forth.

Pink's nails pierced him as he yelled.

He held him tightly, so tightly that he could never break free.

He shouted in his ear and pushed him back, then yanked him forward.

Spamton sobbed and begged for him to stop, to stop yelling, to stop hurting him.

He was sorry. He was so, so sorry.

He wouldn't ever open his mouth again. He wouldn't speak again.

Just please, stop hurting him.

Spamton bit back a cry as he shoved his head between his knees.

Instinctively, his hand reached for his wrist. He held his arm close to his chest, then he started to scratch.

He whimpered as the pain blossomed. He raked over his newer scars, opening them up so blood seeped from his skin. He scratched harder, faster, desperately trying to get rid of the voices in his head.

They laughed at him. They berated him. They screamed at him.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and he shrieked, but there was nobody there.

Then, footsteps, and a careful knock on the door.

"Spamton?" Tenna's voice called to him.

Spamton's eyes went wide. He opened his mouth to respond, but he couldn't speak. He made a noise, frustrated and agonized. The door started to open. Spamton panicked and slammed it shut with his foot, crying out at the pressure on his ankle.

"Spamton, are you okay?" Tenna asked. "Did you slip?"

He kept the door shut with his foot, and thankfully, Tenna didn't try to open it again. Spamton wasn't sure he would be able to face him like this, half-naked, bloodied, and crying.

There was a pause, then something shoved its way under the door. A slip of paper and a pencil. Spamton could have snorted and laughed if he wasn't on the brink of sobbing.

Tenna waited.

Spamton eventually shuffled forward and picked up the pencil with a trembling hand.

Im ok

He slid the paper under the door, and he heard Tenna give a little sigh. But, not a relieved sigh. A tired sigh.

Spamton curled in on himself, expecting for him to start shouting, to demand he come out and face him. But, that didn't happen.

"Do you need anything?" Tenna said instead. There came a creak on the door, like Tenna had leaned against it.

Spamton scribbled a no on the paper and shoved it under, crinkling it, almost ripping it in the process.

Tenna was quiet for a long minute.

"Can I come in?" he asked softly.

Spamton's resolve shattered. He took his foot away from the door and reached up, shaking violently as he turned the knob. As soon as it was open, he scooted back against the wall, tucking himself into a corner as he clutched his wrist, hiding the wound from view. Tenna pushed the door open more, drastically smaller than his usual height. He had a worried frown on his face as his gaze landed on Spamton. His screen paled a little.

"Love, what happened?" he whispered, his hands wanting to reach out, to touch, to comfort, but he fell short. He moved to sit in front of Spamton, his arms open if he wanted it.

Spamton ripped his eyes away from Tenna, shoving his head between his knees again. His nails dug into the injured skin of his wrist, and he made a tiny noise of pain. He dropped his hand, then slowly lifted his arm, silently showing. He couldn't look at Tenna. He couldn't bear the sight of disgust and anger and frustration on his face.

Tenna glanced at it, along with all of the other scars on his arm. Patches of slightly discolored skin, in multiple spots all along his forearm and wrist. He took two fingers and held onto the bottom of Spamton's wrist, helping him steady, even for just a moment.

Spamton bit back a sob. Any minute now, he would snatch his wrist and press his thumb into the wound, hissing at him for being pathetic. When Tenna spoke, Spamton flinched.

"Do you want me to bandage it?"

Spamton blinked. He slowly raised his head to see Tenna's face.

There was no anger, or disgust, or frustration. He looked worried, concerned, his screen dimmer then usual. His posture was hunched, like he was curling in on himself in shame. Why was he ashamed? Spamton was the one being stupid and childish, idiotic and selfish.

Spamton continued to stare in bewilderment. He blinked again, then he hiccuped. He gave a single nod, and the light grasp on his wrist retreated. He let his arm fall slack, resting limply at his side. Tenna reached into the bathroom cabinet and brought out some bandages and ointment. He held his hand out, silently asking for consent once again.

Spamton's arm lifted absentmindedly, and rested in Tenna's careful palm. He winced as Tenna spread ointment along the wound, but the gentle touch grounded him. He was able to calm, to stop sobbing. The violent shaking dwindled to an occasional tremble. His eyes were locked on Tenna's face, searching for any sign of anger.

But, there was none.

The bandage was laid on, smooth and secure against his skin. Tenna leaned down and pressed the lightest kiss imaginable to the center of the bandage. Spamton nearly burst into tears once again. Tenna let his arm fall, and Spamton cradled it close to his chest.

Any moment. Any second.

"Are you okay?" Tenna's arms were still open and inviting, but not forceful or demanding. Spamton paused, then shook his head. He scooted forward and laid in Tenna's arms, his face shoved into his shoulder. He whimpered and sniffled and hiccuped, his face burning with shame. "Do you still want to take a shower?" Spamton shook his head. Then, Tenna shifted, moving towards the shower to turn the water off.

Spamton clutched him like a lifeline, never once letting go as he struggled to keep himself relatively calm. He settled into the warmth of his chest, latching onto the sound and feel of his heartbeat, letting it ground him and comfort him. Tenna's arms wrapped around him, holding him close, but loose.

Spamton's hands relaxed, and he leaned more into Tenna, sniffling. He wiped at his eyes, then he started to shiver. Goosebumps spread along his arms, and he quickly looked around for his shirt. Tenna grabbed it and handed it to him. Spamton dressed himself, then returned to Tenna's arms.

Tenna opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. His lips pressed into a fine line, and he ducked his head. "Do you want to talk about it at all?"

Spamton pulled the sleeves down as far as they would go, but they didn't cover the bandage. He made a muffled noise and shrugged. He didn't look Tenna in the face. He couldn't.

Shame welled up inside him.

He had tried so hard to be confident, to be self-assured, to tell himself that they could never touch him again.

So why was he still stuck in that loop?

Why was his control slipping? Why could he never have what he wanted?

Spamton's breath quickened, and he clutched the front of his shirt, his heart racing. Black dots swarmed his vision, and Tenna's hands tightened around him, just a tiny bit.

Spamton's eyes shot wide open, and he shoved Tenna's chest. He stumbled backwards, his head barely missing the edge of the bathtub.

Tenna said something. His hands started to reach, but one terrified glint in Spamton's eyes made him freeze and retract.

Spamton pressed himself to the wall again and stared blankly at Tenna. Cotton filled his ears. Tears brimmed in his eyes again.

He opened his mouth, his voice weak and broken. "Tenna," he whimpered.

"I'm here," Tenna said softly.

"Tenna," he repeated pitifully.

Tenna scooted closer. Spamton let him near. He inched towards him, then put himself back in Tenna's arms. He held him even more loosely than before, careful, like he was made of glass. He held his head to his shoulder, safely tucking him away in his arms, shielding him from the world. He carded his fingers through his hair and kissed his temple. "I have you. I promise, I have you."

Spamton shuddered, but he didn't shy away. He sniffled again. "I'm sorry, Tenna."

"You have nothing to apologize for," he said firmly. "Absolutely nothing."

Spamton tensed. "I've... brought so much trouble to you," his voice broke. "I've been nothing but a problem, a-and I just- I'm sorry." Tears streamed down his cheeks. "I'm sorry that you have to put up with me and my brothers, a-and I-I-" He heaved a shuddering sob, and screwed his eyes shut. "I never wanted it."

Tenna nodded as he held him. "I know." He grimaced. "Spamton, I could never blame you."

"You should!" he shouted. "You wouldn't be dealing with all of this- this shit if it weren't for me! You'd be- you'd be-" He made a frustrated noise. "Happier. Without me. Less stressed. Without me. You wouldn't have to deal with me and all of my issues. I-I just... I feel awful, Tenna. For denying who we are. Who I am. What we are. You should be with somebody who will flaunt you, show you off, because that's what you deserve. You deserve someone who can take care of you, who you can rely on. Not somebody who will drag you down." He shuddered. "Pink was right," he whispered. "Pink was-"

"I don't give a damn about what Pink thinks," Tenna snapped, a little harsher than he'd meant it. But, he huffed out a breath. "Spamton, I really don't think you realize how much I need you. Without you, I wouldn't have my show right now. Or, it would be..." he averted his gaze. "Failing." He paused, then sighed again. "Falling in love with you just... seemed right. You are charming and endearing. You make things exciting. I understand not wanting to be public, especially considering what you've been through."

Another tear slipped from Spamton's eye, and Tenna wiped it away with his thumb. "Being with you makes me happy. Seeing you smile makes me happy. This whole ordeal is... unfortunate. It's stressful. I won't deny that. But, you're so strong. You aren't giving up. You're fighting. You aren't letting them tear you down. You-" He broke off with a small huff of laughter. "You told all of them that you hate being associated with them. You told them that, Spams. And, they've sullied their reputation. I can't think of any world where their actions wouldn't have consequences."

He held Spamton a little tighter, a little closer. He kissed the top of his head. "You're stuck with me, Spams. Through thick and thin, through family shit and otherwise. I promise. I have you."

Spamton trembled like a leaf in his arms. He hiccuped and sniffled, then wiped his eyes with his hands. He nodded once, but he didn't quite meet his gaze.

"Now, if you wanted to get rid of me, that's another story," Tenna joked, and Spamton snorted a little. Tenna cupped his cheek and pressed their foreheads together. "I love you. No matter what. Okay?"

"Okay." Spamton nodded again. "I love you."

Tenna hummed, a smile spreading across his lips. "Thank you for trusting me," he said softly. "You're so much stronger than you realize. I hope you'll see it one day."

Spamton shrugged. "One day."

"Do you need anything?" Tenna asked.

Spamton thought for a moment, then ducked his head. "I'm hungry," he whispered.

Tenna huffed out an amused breath. "I'll finish dinner. Movie? Whiskey?"

Spamton shrugged. "I think I'm just going to lay down for a bit."

"Alright, love." He kissed his forehead, and Spamton leaned up into it. He carefully stood and helped Spamton to his feet, then they made their way downstairs.

Spamton laid on the couch and curled up under a blanket.

He let his eyes drift closed.

He couldn't hear Pink.

All he heard was Tenna.

He smiled, and he relaxed, the aching in his wrist fading down to nothing.

Chapter Text

Tenna often found himself lying awake at night, staring at the ceiling, lost in thought.

He thought of Spamton, of course. There wasn't a moment where he didn't run through Tenna's mind. It fluctuated between worry and bliss. But lately, it's been more worry than ever.

Their official address was a few days ago at this point, and there hadn't been much uproar about it. Fans still offered their love and support, the crowds cheered like hell on Friday night the moment Spamton walked onto the stage, so that had been nice. Tenna was glad. And, there had been a decline of reporters swamping the studio, clearly having found new stories elsewhere to fawn over.

That wasn't what had Tenna worried, though.

It was the lack of response from the Addisons. No doubt, they'd seen the address. And if they hadn't, then they'd heard about it by now. There had been a few short coverings regarding it in the news, some clips floated around online, the usual things. So, why hadn't there been any kind of retaliation? A retort?

Why was there nothing?

It was driving Tenna insane. It felt like he was constantly looking over his shoulder, searching for something that wasn't there.

But, maybe that was the end. Maybe, they would finally see that Spamton wouldn't take their shit any longer, and they would back off. Tenna prayed for that to be true.

He'd been praying a lot more recently.

It felt strange to reconnect with his faith. He wasn't particularly religious, just about as much as the next guy. He hardly prayed, never went to church. But, he knew that some force was out there. Why else would some of his prayers have been answered? Surely, someone was listening, taking some kind of pity.

He'd prayed for Spamton to have a good day, and it had worked. Their hike had greatly improved his mood. There had been some downs since then, but overall, he was more open to Tenna. That night, when he'd found himself in a dark place, scared and hurting, he'd let Tenna in. He let him help, take away some of the pain and replace it with tender love and care. It was a massive step forward, one that Tenna hadn't expected yet.

He'd prayed for Spamton's brothers to receive judgment, and they had. Well, for now, they had. Fans of the show were openly speaking out against them, and posting the clip of the live event incident online, further ruining their reputation. Tenna wished he knew what was going on with them. With a flicker of anger, he wished their business would fall apart.

Tenna hadn't ever felt vengeful. He was a more happy-go-lucky kind of guy, and he preferred to focus on the brighter parts of life. He was no stranger to hard times, especially before he met Spamton. Yet, he held no malice for any of his misfortunes.

But, for Spamton's brothers, there was nothing but malice.

Every time he looked into Spamton's eyes, he could see flickers of his past. Even when he tried his best to hide it, Tenna could see every subtle movement. He was attuned to it. He needed to be.

He flinched when Tenna spoke too loud, or touched him suddenly, or walked behind him.

He trembled when he was held too tightly, or when he made eye contact for a few seconds too long, or when his throat refused to let him speak.

His nails dug into his skin when he was stressed, or anxious, or scared.

He scratched when he was overwhelmed, or alone in a dark corner, or trapped in a flashback.

Tenna watched all of these helplessly, his hands struggling to be as gentle as he needed them to be. He shook along with Spamton, but not in fear. In fury.

How dare they treat him this way. How dare they look at a child that way and decide to strike him, yell at him, bully him. How dare they continue to abuse him.

Tenna wasn't a vengeful or violent man, but he would never let any of Spamton's brothers get a single word in.

There was no room to be civil or polite. They did not deserve civility and politeness.

He wished he was stronger. He wished that he had taken Pink by the ponytail and slammed him into the wall for even going near Spamton.

He should have known. He should have guessed. He should have never let him inside in the first place.

Why didn't he prepare better? Why didn't he take the right precautions?

Spamton paid the price for his mistakes. Tenna would never forgive himself.

He died a little every time he remembered that moment.

Spamton in the dark, clutched tightly in Pink's arms, his face hidden in his shoulder. He sobbed. He shook. He begged. He pleaded. All the while, Pink simply smiled and held him tighter, an evil glint in his eye.

For the first time in a long time, Tenna had been scared. He'd nearly frozen. He'd nearly lost him.

Tenna grimaced, then held Spamton a little closer to his chest. He shifted and made a small noise, but settled back into a peaceful slumber nonetheless. His arms were wrapped around Tenna's chest, his hands barely able to meet in the back. His legs were drawn up, slotted between Tenna's own. He pressed his face to his chest and let out a sigh. Tenna smiled, then kissed the top of his head, his fingers carding through his hair.

He couldn't imagine a life without Spamton.

It seemed silly, to have only known each other for a handful of months, and to be so attached already. Tenna suspected it was because he'd only ever had one other friend before, Mike. So, maybe his judgment was flawed. But, it didn't matter.

He truly loved Spamton. There wasn't a single part of him that didn't love and adore and cherish him. Every day felt different, special, like a small adventure. Whether they were navigating emotions and hard times, or walking through the woods on a hike.

The studio had changed so much as well. Tenna was making renovations constantly. He'd upgraded the green room to be more comfortable, constructed some new storage closets, break rooms, and the like. So much of their old equipment had been either replaced or refurbished, thanks to the larger revenue from Spamton's advertisements.

Things were looking up. Tenna had everything he wanted. A thriving studio, happy employees, and a loving partner tucked under his arm. Someone he could care for and protect, just as he'd always wanted.

He'd dreamt of someone like this for years. Someone who would look to him for answers, rely on him, depend on him. He loved looking out for people, cooking for them, caring for them, being there for them. Spamton was exactly who he'd wanted.

And, in turn, he loved that he could rely on Spamton. He could always put him in a better mood, whether he suggested that they go out on the town, or to stay at home and read. Tenna didn't care, as long as he was with him. He found himself smiling almost every day, and sometimes so much that his face hurt. He laughed easily, and he found that he could actually relax. He'd never noticed how uptight he was until he learned to truly let loose. Spamton really made his inhibitions disappear. It was a little startling, but rather welcome at the same time.

Spamton also seemed to bring out sides of Tenna that he never knew existed. Especially in a more intimate manner.

Tenna hadn't ever really thought about what he would want in terms of intimacy. He'd honestly never even believed that he would find somebody who would want him in that sense, given his natural size. He feared that he often scared people off, so it wasn't something he thought about often.

But, Spamton loved his size. Adored it, even. Praised it, wanted it, craved it.

Tenna was giddy with excitement when Spamton mentioned liking him at his natural height. But, it was also scary. Tenna couldn't count how many times he'd hurt somebody, whether he'd stepped on their feet or slipped and toppled over. He was so much larger than Spamton. Twice as tall, weighing even more than that. He was terrified. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if he'd hurt Spamton, especially if they were being intimate with each other.

So, Tenna was glad to hear that Spamton had wanted to top.

He was so happy to have his first time be so enjoyable. He was worried he was going to mess things up, or grow to his normal height and hurt him, or do something embarrassing, or say something weird. But, Spamton was a natural. If things went sideways, and they did, Tenna had accidentally squeezed his shoulders, something he shouldn't have done, he still beat himself up for that, but Spamton got things back on track.

And, it hadn't been just a one-time thing. Tenna had dreaded it being a one-time thing, or that Spamton would hate it so much that he'd break it off right then and there. But, that wasn't how he was. Spamton had stuck with him through so much already, there was no way he would be dissuaded by intimacy.

Tenna found himself craving that closeness more. The need to be good and feel good was constant. Every time he glanced at Spamton, he wanted it. To kiss him, hold him, hear him in his ear. They didn't even need to undress. Tenna just wanted him.

His desires were shifting, though. He did love being pampered and taken care of. It let him shut his brain off and focus on the pleasure, rather than the stress. But, ever since that last time, he'd been thinking differently.

The way Spamton surrendered himself, willingly relaxing into Tenna's arms, it drove him absolutely crazy. He struggled to keep his wits about him when he thought about it, the way his hand covered the entirety of his stomach, the way his body enveloped him, like he was molded for him, shaped for him.

Don't even get him started on Spamton's voice.

It rang throughout his brain, the desperation, the pleasure, the need, the want. Spamton's voice was music, pure music. Tenna couldn't get enough. He wanted to know what else Spamton liked, what else could make him whimper and whine. He wanted to learn every inch of his body. He wanted to memorize every sensitive spot, every dip and curve, everything.

He wanted him, and he wanted him bad.

It may or may not have been becoming a small problem.

Especially when Spamton was stressed. Tenna felt horrible for thinking of him in such unprofessional and unwholesome ways. He would beat himself up constantly, berate himself for even considering asking for intimacy.

It wasn't difficult for Tenna to keep his hands to himself. That wasn't the issue. He would watch Spamton like a hawk, always noting what he needed and what he wanted. His subtle body language was becoming second nature to Tenna. Every shift meant something, every blink, every tap. Tenna always attuned to what he needed.

But, the issue was he couldn't turn his brain off. He couldn't stop hearing Spamton's voice in his ears, whispering to him about how good he was. He felt his hands roam along his skin, digging into soft silicone, kissing his lips. Tenna just could not stop wanting the good. He wanted Spamton to feel good too, to forget his problems for a little while.

That wasn't what he needed, though. At least, not at the moment.

They were both far too stressed to even think about intimacy. So, Tenna shelved that for a later date. He would reschedule his gay panic for after his whole ordeal with Spamton's brothers was finished.

Tenna shifted once again, moving his arms around Spamton so he could get comfortable. He hummed once he settled, then Spamton started to stir. Tenna froze, his heart picking up speed for a moment.

Spamton mumbled something, then his hand reached for his face and he rubbed his eye. He yawned. "Tens?"

Tenna exhaled slowly, regretfully. "Hi, Spams." He smiled nonetheless. "I didn't mean to wake you. Go back to sleep."

Spamton tilted his head back, then scooted up so he could kiss Tenna's lips haphazardly. "Why you still up?" he muttered into his cheek, nuzzling against him.

Tenna shrugged. "I couldn't sleep."

Spamton inhaled a deep breath through his nose, waking up just a little more. With his voice still laced with sleep, he spoke, "Coulda woken me up. Done somethin'."

"It's nearly three, love. I wouldn't wake you up so I wouldn't be lonely," Tenna chuckled lightly. He kissed Spamton's lips again. "Go back to sleep, Spammy. I'm okay."

Spamton shook his head, his eyes peeking open to look deep into Tenna. "Talk to me."

Tenna tensed. "It's nothing you need to worry about. I promise."

"You've been nothing but attentive to me, Tenna," Spamton argued. He cupped Tenna's cheek, his thumb rubbing circles on his screen. "It's a two-way street. Talk to me."

Tenna sighed, then averted his gaze. "I'm worried." When he paused, Spamton urged him to continue. Tenna hesitated again, then spoke quieter. "About you, Spams. And your brothers."

Spamton made a small noise of affirmation, and he nodded once. "Me too."

"I've just been thinking. About all of this as a whole, I guess." He held on a little tighter, and Spamton melted into his embrace. Tenna nearly burst into tears at the motion. "I'm going to do anything I can to make sure they never get to you."

"Can't beat insanity," Spamton whispered with a shudder. "Pink's always been possessive."

Tenna pursed his lips. "What... happened, Spams?"

Spamton's whole body locked in place, his breath hitched in his throat. He trembled a little. "I can't."

Tenna let his arms drop, realizing he'd crossed a boundary. "I'm sorry," he muttered.

He expected Spamton to move away, to wrap his arms around himself, but he didn't. He stayed close to Tenna, wedged between his limp arms, clutching the front of his shirt.

Spamton clenched his eyes shut. "It's okay," he forced out. He settled, letting his body relax.

They fell into silence, neither uncomfortable nor uncomfortable, just necessary. Words formed behind their lips, thought but never spoken.

"It wasn't just physical," Spamton said suddenly, making Tenna recoil a little in surprise. "He..." he trailed off, shuddering again. "Spoke to me. Told me I was only safe with them. Told me that the world wouldn't ever accept me. That I-I-" He broke off with a small sob. "That I only belonged to them."

Tenna's hands held him loosely, carefully wrapped around his back. Holding, not keeping. He left the air open, silently telling Spamton that he could continue if he wanted to. He didn't, so Tenna kissed the top of his head. "You won't be with them again, Spams."

Spamton sniffled. "I want to believe you. I really want to, Tenna." A few tears slipped from the corner of his eyes, and he buried his face into Tenna's chest again. "I just- I can't."

Tenna nodded. "I know."

"They're still out there, Tenna." Spamton trembled with uncertainty. He huffed an exasperated breath. "Here I go again, making things about me. I was supposed to be-"

"Hey," Tenna said softly, but firmly. "I'm not the one reliving it. I don't need comfort. I promise. You can talk as much as you need. I'm here. I'm always here."

Spamton let out a low whimper, then he shuddered again. "You're too good for me, Tenna."

Tenna held him close. "It's the bare minimum, Spammy."

Spamton nearly snorted at that. He wiped away his tears. "Feels like above and beyond."

Tenna kissed the top of his head. "No matter what. I'm here."

Spamton nodded once. Then, after a moment, he spoke again. "Do you need anything from me, Tenna?"

Tenna shook his head. "Nothing at all. Just like having you here. I love being able to care for you. It's given me more purpose. You've given me more meaning. I want you to know that, to understand that."

Spamton's lips formed a weak and wobbly smile. "I like being with you, Tenna."

That made his heart flutter. He kissed his head and carded his fingers through his hair. "Thank you for hearing me out."

Spamton huffed in amusement. "Thanks for interrupting my conversation."

"What was it about, anyways? I felt a little bad. You looked like you were having fun," Tenna smiled softly.

"Oh, something about his ego, I think," Spamton rolled his eyes. "Guy was making jokes. Felt impolite to not laugh."

"So, all a front?" Tenna pressed.

"Oh, absolutely." Spamton sighed a little. "I get people from all over the place trying to be friendly with me. Get in good, I suppose. Stroke their own egos trying to make themselves seem like a big deal. I go along, I get free drinks out of it." He laughed. "Then, you show up. Big Shot extraordinaire. Scared the hell outta me."

Tenna grinned. "You scared the shit out of me, too. I was also way too drunk off whiskey, and filled with pent-up emotions. So, only makes sense."

"You have no idea how excited I was," Spamton admitted. "I know I've told you before, but I just... never did well with contracts. But, you come along with your 'no strings attached' deal, and I don't know how, but I just knew I should shake your hand. Life was getting boring anyways. Too much paperwork, not enough workin' on my cars. Now, I'm lying with Mr. Ant Tenna, livin' the dream." He scooted closer to Tenna, then lifted his head again, his face flushed a little pink. "And I don't think I'd have it any other way." He inched closer.

"Can I kiss you, Spams?" Tenna whispered.

"You really don't have to ask," he insisted. But, he had to admit, it made his heart flutter. The consideration, the caution. His knees went weak as their lips met, slotting together perfectly like they were carved from the same stone.

Tenna held the back of his head, tilting and pulling and pressing. Spamton's lips parted, his breath filling Tenna's lungs with tender warmth. His hands wrapped around Tena's neck, and they shifted, sitting upright instead of lying down. Spamton moved into Tenna's lap, his eyes screwed shut, his face blushing a deeper red with every kiss.

One after another, hands clutching, roaming, touching. Tenna hesitantly held onto his waist, and Spamton lurched forward into the contact. Tenna held him more confidently, fingers tightening around his shirt.

Spamton broke a particularly long kiss, his chest heaving for breath. But, he remained close, chasing Tenna's lips, touching, but not quite connected.

He lifted his eyes, meeting Tenna's gaze.

Eye contact with him felt right and natural. Nothing about it was forced or awkward. Tenna's face softened, and they stayed in that position for a while. Holding, touching, but never moving to do more or less. Spamton stared deep into Tenna's screen, memorizing every little glare from the dim light of the moon peeking through the curtains. He was ethereal, with a glint from his antennae looking like a halo around his head. Spamton found himself enamored, completely and entirely.

He pressed forward, kissing him again. Several long moments passed before either of them even thought of pulling away. They cherished the proximity, craved it, needed it. When they did part, it was only slightly. Barely a centimeter.

The silence stretched forever. Comfortable, peaceful, serene.

Then, in a voice barely louder than a whisper, but filled with confidence and assurance. "I love you, Tenna."

The answer came as easy as breathing. Tenna kissed him. "I love you, Spams."

When they laid down to rest, Tenna's mind cleared, and he was able to sleep soundly the rest of the night, with Spamton cradled safely in his arms.

Chapter Text

It was raining pretty heavily by the time Tenna pulled into the studio parking lot. He frowned at the view outside the window, and the sound of the rain hitting the roof of his car. He sighed, then turned around to grab the umbrella from his backseat.

But, it wasn't there.

Tenna made a frustrated noise, then shimmied out of his jacket and started to hold it over his head. He stepped out of his car, instantly enveloped by a rush of cold wind. Water splashed from a puddle beneath his feet, soaking the hems of his pants and through his shoes. He grimaced, then made his way forward.

He entered the studio and headed right for his office. He hung his coat up on a rack, then sat down at his desk. he brought out the script for that evening's talk show. He was bringing on some random celebrity who starred in a recent movie. Tenna didn't care all that much, he hadn't been paying much attention to new media anyway.

He could hear the rain thundering on the roof high above him. He hoped Spamton was driving safely. The roads in Cyber City were always slick, far too smooth to be safe. He should call him, make sure he got into work alright.

Tenna reached for the phone, then he froze.

For just a moment, his wrist locked into place. But, it was gone before he could investigate. His lips pressed into a firm line. Then, he picked up the phone.

Spamton answered within the first two rings. "Hey hey!" It sounded like he had a smile on his face. "How's the big man doing?"

Tenna relaxed in his chair. "Better now that you're here," he said, grinning. "Did you make the drive okay? Rain's pouring down out there."

Spamton hummed in affirmation. "Nothing too terrible. There were some stupid people on the road. I stayed far away from them."

Tenna nodded. "What's on the agenda for you today, Spams?"

"I have a uh- meeting at three. Other than that, I was going to try and tinker around. Haven't had much time for that recently. It'll be good to roll up my sleeves again."

Tenna smiled softly. "Are you going to come by after work tonight? Or are you going straight home?"

"I might stop by," Spamton said. "Depends on how the meeting goes. Might be too tired. But, I'll see you at home anyway."

Tenna chuckled at that. "I'm making steak bites and mashed potatoes for dinner. Sound good?"

Spamton made a giddy noise of excitement, but it was clearly muffled by his hand. "Sounds great." His voice suddenly got quieter. "Yeah? Alright. Be there in a moment." He turned back to the phone. "Sorry, Tens. I gotta go. I'll see you tonight."

Tenna deflated just a little. "See you tonight. I love you."

"I love you, Tenna." Then, Spamton hung up.

Tenna sighed and leaned back in his chair, a small pang of loneliness hitting him. His heart sank a little as he brought out some paperwork and started to chip away at it.

He wanted Spamton there. He felt empty without Spamton there.

It was silly. To be feeling like this. Tenna was normally great at keeping himself busy, but he couldn't focus. He kept glancing up at the chair across from him, hoping for Spamton to magically show up somehow. He'd pass him a glass of whiskey, and they'd laugh, talk, maybe read.

He'd been feeling like this more often than not. He was so used to having Spamton by his side, tucked safely under his arm, always within reach. He spent so many nights at Tenna's house, barely going to his own except for clothes and such. Tenna was elated to be in such close proximity constantly.

But, were they moving too fast?

Tenna wasn't sure. He didn't have any bases to go off of. He didn't know what to expect, or what the timeline was for relationships like these. It was new. It was exciting. It was kind of scary and nerve-wracking though, too.

Tenna huffed out a breath as he tapped his pen on the desk, wanting to write, but unable to think of anything. He pushed the paperwork to the side, then slumped forward, pressing his face into the desk. He groaned.

He needed a coffee.

He stood and made his way to one of the break rooms. He got a mug from the cupboard, then started up the coffee pot. He added way too much sugar, way too much cream, and not enough coffee to his mug. He took a sip. Perfect.

When he turned, he noticed Elnina and Lanino sitting at one of the tables. Their hands were clutching tightly together as they stared into each other's eyes, completely and entirely enamored.

Tenna thought for a moment, then smiled a little. He approached their table, and they both jolted as he loomed over them. "Hey, can I ask you two something?"

Lanino blinked in surprise, then nodded, his mouth slightly agape. "Uh, sure thing, Mr. Tenna."

Tenna brought up a third chair, then sat. He hesitated, his fingers tapping on the sides of his mug. "I... think it's no question that Spamton and I are..." He trailed off, his face flushing a light pink. "Together."

"Oh, absolutely!" Elnina piped up, smiling brightly. "My sunshine and I have talked about it plenty of times before! Oh, how pure and sweet it is, to have co-hosts in love!"

Lanino gazed at her with stars in his eyes. "My dew drop and I think it's been such a great improvement for the studio. And for you, Mr. Tenna." He shifted to look at Tenna, smiling a little. "Despite the dull light of recent events, things have been looking up."

Tenna's smile went wobbly as they spoke. "It's really that obvious, huh? How much I love him."

"Terribly so!" Elnina sighed happily. "Oh, but you wanted to ask my sunshine and I a question. What is it, Mr. Tenna?"

Tenna flushed a brighter pink. "I uhm... I'm new to all of this- this relationship stuff," he admitted, his shoulders hunching forward a little. He hesitantly took a sip of his coffee, then continued. "Spamton and I have been happy. Really happy. But, I want to know that I'm doing things right." He huffed a little. "What was it like when you two first started?"

Lanino blushed a furious red as Elnina started to laugh. "Absolutely perfect, Mr. Tenna," she said. "It's been such a long time since my starlight and I have been together. But, I remember the day like yesterday." She grasped onto his hands, her thumbs stroking circles onto his knuckles. "When we met, something just clicked."

"There was no rhyme or reason to it," Lanino added, bringing her hands to his lips to kiss. "It was like we just knew. I asked her to dinner. She said yes. The rest is history."

"You just knew?" Tenna asked.

"Call it a gut feeling, if you will," Lanino continued.

Tenna nodded. "And, what is it like for you? Being in a relationship, I mean."

"Well," Elnina said. "We trust each other completely. Tell each other everything. There isn't a single secret that I keep from my sunshine."

"There isn't a secret that I keep from my dew drop," Lanino said with a happy sigh. "We talk through things if there's a difference. We never go to bed angry."

"If there's an issue and we fight, we take a step back and circle back around to it after we've had some time to think," she added. "We're always there for each other. Through thick."

"And through thin," Lanino finished, kissing her knuckles again.

Elnina brought his hands to her mouth so she could kiss them too, and their gazes easily found each other.

Tenna stared down at his reflection in the table. He saw his dopey smile, the tint in his cheeks. After a moment, he spoke up again. "Am I doing this right?" he whispered. It was barely audible, but Elnina turned to face him, her eyes kind and voice gentle.

"You're doing great, Mr. Tenna," she assured him. "You both light up each other's worlds. You don't see it, but whenever Mr. Spamton walks through the front doors, he's a completely different person. He's carefree and smiling, confident in a way that he doesn't show on screen."

"When he talks to us, or Ramb, or anyone else, he always speaks of you fondly," Lanino said. "With that dopey smile on his face, like the one you have right now."

Tenna snorted a little. "I'm just worried that we're taking things too fast. Or- or that I'm going to mess up somehow. He means... everything to me. He saved the studio, he's there when I need him the most, and he's..." He trailed off, but they both nodded in understanding.

"It's not very often I see somebody with a love as pure and genuine as that," Elnina said, stealing a glance at Lanino. "Once in a blue moon."

"Once in a blue moon," Lanino repeated, softer. "Mr. Tenna, you're doing great. We can tell you that for certain. Relationships move differently for everybody. Sometimes it's slow, other times it's so quick, that you wonder where all the time went. What's important is consistency. Everything else falls into place. You are exactly where you should be. You are exactly where you need each other to be."

"It sometimes doesn't feel that way," Tenna said, his smile shifting to a small frown. "There are some things that I feel I can't bring up to him. Well, not at the current moment, anyway. He's still... really shaken up. About what happened."

Elnina nodded. "He's in a rough spot. He needs time. But, you need to advocate for yourself too, Mr. Tenna. You can't set aside your entire life for him. I know, I know," she held up a hand before he could even think of interjecting. "You want to. You want to give your entire life to him. My sunshine and I were like that as well. But, it creates a dependency issue if you let it go unchecked."

Tenna shrank down a little, the words hitting a little too close to home.

"I think right now, it's a special circumstance," Lanino added. "You're dealing with the repercussions of his family. That isn't either of your faults. But, putting yourself second will only make things worse. Set boundaries. Take time for yourself. Don't let it spiral out of control."

Tenna nodded. "You're right." He sighed, then leaned back. "I have been putting him ahead of me. He's all I think about. I haven't had time to just... be me."

Elnina patted his hand. "Talk to him, Mr. Tenna. Let him know how you feel. He'll understand. He loves you."

Tenna blushed again. "He does." He took a long drink of his coffee, and a fond smile came over his face. "Thank you. Both of you. I really needed that."

"Come back to us anytime," Lanino said. "My dew drop and I will always lend an ear."

"My sunshine and I are here for you, and for Mr. Spamton," she said. "Is there anything else you needed, Mr. Tenna? Anything at all?"

Tenna shook his head. "No, I think I got what I needed." He stood, then put his empty mug into the dishwasher. He headed towards the door, then sent a look back at them. "Thank you again."

They waved him goodbye, and with a pep in his step, made his way back to his office. He reached for the handle and was about to turn it, when his wrist locked up again. Tenna grunted a little and lifted his hand up. His fingers twitched uselessly at him, but after a few seconds, it was gone. He rolled his wrist, snapping it back into place. He sent a glance to the ceiling, where the rain was only hitting harder. He sighed, then went into his office.

The rest of the day passed as usual. Tenna spent his time doing his paperwork, now that his mind was at least mostly cleared of worry. His heart still ached, wanting to be close to Spamton, but he could ignore it for now.

The talk show came and went. Tenna was more outgoing than usual, his smile bright and carefree, happy and uncontrolled. While he hadn't seen the actor's movie, he still asked questions about it, and was genuinely interested in the behind the scenes work. He'd done a few stage performances before, so he wasn't a stranger to acting. But, movies were completely different. Tenna wondered how it would feel to be a true actor.

He missed the plays from his college days every so often. Maybe he'd have to bring it back somehow, and make theater a bigger part of his studio. It would be something new, something fresh. Something Tenna could enjoy. Something just for him.

They did have a ton of extra storage space now. Tenna could brainstorm some play ideas to do. Maybe something with cowboys. He'd always liked cowboys.

Tenna made his way back to his office, grinning from metaphorical ear to metaphorical ear. He sat at his desk, then brought out some paper so he could jot down some ideas.

Silly things, really. Tenna had been wanting some more nonsense in his life, to take a break from rigidity and focus on the goofy. He wondered if Spamton would join in as well.

He should call him.

Tenna went to reach for the phone, then he paused. He shook his head, and let his hand come back to his side. He needed to not be so dependent on him, his touch, his voice. He could wait until he got home to see and hear him. It wasn't too much longer until he would be ready to go. He just wanted to check out the new storage rooms, first.

It was almost seven by the time Spamton pulled into Tenna's driveway. Thunder roared overhead, lightning occasionally struck a long way away. Spamton shivered in the cold as he hurried to the front door. He tried the handle, but it was locked. Spamton blinked in surprise. He mumbled a, "What?" before he tried to jiggle it again.

He frowned as the door refused to budge. He shrugged, then brought out his keys and unlocked the door. He stepped inside, and the house was empty. The lights were off, and it was oddly silent, except for the relentless downpour of rain. Spamton carefully set his briefcase on the table and loosened his tie. "Tenna?" he called.

When nobody answered him, he shouted louder. "Tenna! I'm home!"

He walked through the kitchen and living room, but there was no sign of him, or any of his things. Spamton felt his throat tighten, and he dug his nails into the skin of his wrist. He looked down at his hands, then forced them into his pockets instead.

"Tenna! You home?" he tried as he walked up the stairs. But, still no response.

Anxiety overtook him, and he ran back down the stairs. He grabbed his phone, then called.

It rang for what felt like ages.

Then, went to voicemail.

Spamton made a small noise, his face burning, his heart pounding.

Tenna would've called him if he was staying late, right? He'd done it before.

Maybe he just forgot. It wasn't that big of an issue. Right?

Spamton took a moment, centering himself, and he breathed in deeply.

Tenna was okay. He was just running late. Maybe there was traffic. Maybe a road closed because of flooding.

Maybe he was in a car accident. Maybe he was dying on the side of the road. Maybe he was-

Spamton smacked the side of his head over and over with the bottom of his hand. His brain jumbled, his thoughts becoming scrambled and foggy. He did it a few more times, forcing the bad thoughts out, replacing them with a bout of confusion and dizziness.

"Tenna's fine," he spoke firmly. "Tenna is okay. Stop worrying. You're being dramatic."

He exhaled as his mind cleared a little. The anxiety still swirled around inside, making him see visions of the worst-case scenarios.

He tore his gaze away from the front door, then headed to the kitchen. He was hungry. Tenna would certainly make dinner when he was back. But, maybe Spamton would try to cook instead, since he was running late. It must have been a stressful day for him to be so late. He could do something nice for him.

Spamton looked through the fridge, then grabbed some ingredients to make spaghetti. He was terrible in the kitchen, truly. But, he could make a few simple things. Grilled cheese, chicken and rice, simple pasta dishes. Tenna was the true chef, every meal was gourmet and perfect, melting in Spamton's mouth with bursts of flavor. He even found himself enjoying things that he'd previously hated. Like mushrooms, for example. But, Tenna made a killer mushroom risotto. Spamton had asked for seconds and thirds. Tenna was happy to provide.

Spamton started cooking, with a movie playing in the background. He hummed as he went along.

But, with every minute that passed, his anxiety only grew. He tried to call Tenna a few times, but it always went to voicemail. He tried not to focus on it, although it was quite frankly impossible.

By the time it reached eight, Spamton had finished cooking. He sat at the table, his leg bouncing quickly beneath him, his fingers rapping against the table. He tried to eat. His stomach churned with every bite lifted to his mouth. He felt like vomiting.

Eight thirty.

Eight forty.

Eight fifty.

Nine.

Dinner was cold. Spamton was restless. His phone was silent. Thunder rumbled. Lightning struck.

He shoved himself out of his chair and snatched his jacket and keys. He fumbled for a moment, then exited the house, barely remembering to lock the door behind him. He hopped into his car, flinching as the rain assaulted the roof of his car, falling like pebbles against metal. He turned his car on, then peeled out of the driveway. He drove the usual route to the studio.

Large puddles formed on the roads, making them slick and uncertain. Spamton's knuckles shaded a pale white as he clutched the steering wheel like a lifeline. He drove too fast. He couldn't think.

The roads were relatively clear. Hardly anybody was out in this weather.

But, a blessing in disguise. No emergency vehicles were crowded around a car on the side of the road, hauling out a limp and lifeless body. Spamton shuddered at the thought.

He drove a little faster.

He took a corner too fast, his car skidded for a moment. Spamton's stomach lurched. He sat up and continued to drive, ignoring all sensibility telling him to slow down to turn around and go home and wait.

A flash of lightning. A roar of thunder.

Spamton reached the studio. The parking lot was empty, except for one lone car. Tenna's. Parked right by the front door. Empty.

Spamton parked haphazardly beside it, then leapt from out and raced to the front door. He fumbled with his keys, and with a shout of frustration, found the right key. He yanked the door open.

"Tenna!" he yelled, cupping his hands around his mouth as he did so. The rain drowned him out. "TENNA!"

The studio was dark and eerie.

Spamton ran past the lobby and into the green room. "Tenna!"

The office.

The stage.

Spamton's own dressing room.

Each door ripped open revealed an empty room. Silent. Dark.

The rain laughed at him. The thunder bellowed. The lightning startled.

Spamton made his way to a hallway of storage closets. All of the doors were shut. He pulled each of them open, shouting Tenna's name every moment he could.

Then, he came to the last door. It was slightly ajar. Spamton's heart lurched. He felt sick.

He yanked the door open.

Inside, there was a very dim light, barely illuminating the floor by the back wall. Spamton walked inside, trembling. He found the light switched and turned it on. It flickered to life, barely able to fill the room. "Tenna?" he tried. Nothing moved. The walls creaked. Spamton jumped at the sound, but continued onward.

The light flickered as Spamton drew near. Then, it blinked out of existence. Spamton's breath hitched in his throat, then his foot knocked into something on the ground. He shrieked, then fell to his knees to see what it was.

An arm. A shoulder. A large, TV head.

"TENNA!" he yelled, grasping him by both shoulders and shaking. "Hey, hey! Wake up! Wake up!"

Tenna's body was stiff. His wrists and fingers twitched. His screen flickered once again.

"S-S-S-S-Sp-Sp-Sp-Spa-" A vicious rip of static tore through Tenna's throat, and his screen flickered to No Signal.

Spamton made an agonized noise, and he tugged Tenna into his lap. "Hey! Talk to me, Tenna. What happened? What's going on?!"

Tenna grunted, a glitched sound that made a shiver run down Spamton's spine. "St-st-st-stor-stor-sto-"

"Storm?" Spamton muttered. "Do storms mess with your body, or something?"

Tenna coughed and hacked, his screen flickering between normal and No Signal.

"What can I do? Is there anything? Why can't you move?" Tears pricked his eyes, and he held Tenna impossibly close, his face pressed to his chest.

"M-M-M-M-Mike-" he forced out with another wave of static. "G-g-g-get M-M-M-Mi-"

"Mike's not here, it's nearly ten, Tenna! You've been... you've been here all night?" The tears flooded down his cheeks. Guilt and regret built up in the back of his throat. He choked back a sob. "I'm sorry, Tenna. I should have gotten here sooner. I-I'm sorry. You're hurting a-and I-" He broke off, then huffed. "Tell me what to do."

Tenna's arm shot up and snatched Spamton's wrist. For once, his screen was smooth, his gaze piercing and firm. "Get. Mike."

Spamton flinched at the sudden shift. He nodded once, his lips trembling. He reached for his phone, then started to dial Mike's number.

The call never went through. Spamton's phone buffered before it terminated the call. He made a small noise, pathetic and worried. "It's not- Tenna, I can't."

Tenna laid back, his body twitching as his screen flickered more. He let out a slow, shaky, glitchy breath. "W-w-w-w-we wa-wa-wa-wait."

"We wait? The storm could last all night, Tenna. You can't be like this for that long," Spamton mustered.

"We-we-we wait," he emphasized, his hands squeezing almost painfully around Spamton's wrists. "Y-y-y-yo-you don't touch."

"Tenna, I can't- I can't see you like this," Spamton whimpered. "Tell me what to do. I've worked on cars. I can handle circuitry and machinery."

Tenna's body flinched violently, and he rolled over onto his side, coughing and hacking away from Spamton. He twitched and shuddered. "No."

"Let me help," Spamton insisted. "We'll go home a-and we'll be okay. But just... please let me help."

"NO." Tenna's voice was clear and loud. "You don't-" He was cut off by a wave of static. He gasped out in pain, then curled in on himself. "LEAVE."

Spamton blinked tears out of his eyes. He laid a gentle hand on Tenna's shoulder. He jerked away in response. "What do I need to do?"

"I s-s-s-said LEAVE!" Tenna snapped, then he doubled over in pain again. "I w-w-w-won't l-l-l-l-let mys-s-s-self hu-hu-hu-hurt y-y-y-you. I-I-I-I-I ca-ca-ca-can't con-con-contr-o-o-ol m-m-m-my bo-bo-body."

Spamton's hands slowly turned Tenna onto his back. He wiped his face, then gave him a firm stare. "I will be okay."

"N-n-n-n-n-no," Tenna argued, his voice growing weaker by the second. "S-S-S-Spam-am-am-am-m-my-"

"Please," he voice broke. "Let me help you."

Tenna made a broken noise, a sob filled with agony and despair, worry and fear. Tenna was scared. It made Spamton's heart lurch up into his throat. His screen flickered again. He tensed. Then, his shoulders relaxed.

"H-h-h-he-he-here," Tenna's hand vaguely gestured to a spot on his chest. "B-b-b-bu-bu-butto-ons."

Spamton nodded, then he started to undo Tenna's shirt. He flicked it open, then he started to look. He found two buttons, one on either side of his chest. He pressed them, and the panel popped open. Tenna hissed as cold air flooded his chest cavity. Wires were everywhere. Spamton could feel the heat radiating from him, an uncomfortable warmth that made his skin crawl.

"B-b-box," Tenna forced out, shifting so Spamton's hand grazed along the top of a box on the side of him. "F-f-f-fli-li-li-lick the sw-sw-swi-swi-itch o-o-off, th-th-then o-o-o-on aga-aga-again. G-g-g-go-good a-a-as n-n-new."

Spamton hesitantly reached inside, his fingers fiddling with the latch. He opened up the box, then grimaced as a bright blue light flooded the room. Tenna shuddered, his screen flickering to No Signal again. Spamton found the switch, then turned it off.

Tenna went still. Tenna went limp. The whirring that had become white noise long ago cut off. His entire body slumped. Spamton nearly shrieked, nearly sobbed, but he steeled his nerves. He clenched his eyes shut, then flicked the switch back on.

The blue light extinguished. There was a crackle of electricity, and Spamton cried out as he was shocked. He ripped his hand back, cradling it as electricity flooded through him. It tingled. It hurt. His hand went numb. He scooted back as more electricity flowed through Tenna.

The blue light returned. The whirring started up again. Tenna's screen flickered to life, and he gasped as he sat up. His arms wrapped around his chest as he forced himself to his knees. He slammed the box shut and secured the latch, then grasped onto the panel and snapped it back into place. He heaved for a moment, then coughed. His antennae twitched. Then, he looked towards Spamton.

Tenna stared at him for a long moment. He saw his cradled hand, his trembling body, eyes full of uncertainty, tears, and fear. Tenna shrank.

"Spams," he whispered pitifully. "I-I... I hurt you."

Spamton's eyes glanced to the side, then back up at him. "I'm okay." He held his hand out, the feeling already returning to it. The pain subsided. "It doesn't hurt. I'm okay. Are yo-"

He was cut off by a sudden force. Large arms wrapped around him. He gave a shout of surprise as his face was shoved into a shaking shoulder. Tenna collapsed around him, and he started to sob.

"Tenna?" Spamton whispered, his hands so small in comparison to him, latching onto his back. "I'm okay. You're okay. We're- we're both okay."

"Never," Tenna mustered between shuddering sobs. "Never." Spamton remained quiet, listening for his next words. "Never again."

Spamton nodded. He didn't know what else to do.

After several minutes, he spoke. "Let's go home," he muttered. "It's okay, Tenna. I promise. I'm okay. We're both okay. I... I won't ever touch it again. I won't."

Tenna held him tighter. Spamton squirmed for a moment, and Tenna's arms instantly laxed. He pulled away, shame filling his expression. He turned his head to face the floor as he scooted away from Spamton. He brought his knees up to his chest, then he wrapped his arms around them instead.

They were quiet. Spamton stared at him with slightly wide eyes, unsure of what to do, or what to say.

Several more minutes passed. The silence was unbearable.

"Are you okay?" Spamton asked softly.

Tenna opened his mouth to speak, then it closed. He sighed, then went to speak again. "No."

"Talk to me," Spamton inched forward.

Tenna scooted back.

Spamton froze, then dropped his gaze to the floor.

"I never wanted you to see that." Tenna's voice was meek, ashamed. "I never wanted you to see any of that." He hesitated. "Don't ever. Don't ever. Touch it again."

Spamton couldn't do anything but nod.

Tenna's expression grew angry for a moment. Spamton winced, expecting him to lash out, to scream, to throw, to hit.

But, Tenna remained still.

"I'm sorry, Spammy," he whispered, impossibly quiet and fearful, contrary to the intense look on his face. It shifted into shame once again. "I worried you. I scared you. I-I... I'm sorry."

"Tenna," Spamton said firmly. "You couldn't help it."

"I should have gone home earlier," he turned his whole body, facing the side instead of towards Spamton. He buried his face between his knees. "I didn't even notice that it happened. I just... fell. Next thing I knew, here you are." He scoffed at himself. "I felt it, though. Earlier. My wrists lock up when it rains hard. I... didn't think it would storm. But." He pursed his lips together. He shrank a little.

Spamton hesitated, then tried to move forward again. Tenna didn't shy away. Spamton rested a hand on his shoulder then slowly turned his body to face him. He cupped his cheeks and kissed his forehead.

Tenna released a small, quiet breath. He relaxed into Spamton's arms. He laid down, his head laying in his lap, his face pressed against the top of his thighs. Spamton stroked his head.

Tenna calmed eventually. He sighed as the tension and stress melted away. He remained there for a long while, taking in his warmth, his comfort. He sniffled, then sat up a little. "I want to go home," he muttered.

Spamton nodded. "Let's go home."

He helped Tenna to his feet, startled to see that they were around the same height. But, he wrapped an arm around his waist and helped to support his weight. Tenna limped a little, his legs unsteady and wobbly, his breath hitching with every step. They hobbled to the front entrance. Spamton took off his jacket and placed it over Tenna's head, sheltering him at least somewhat from the rain.

They walked briskly to the car. Spamton drove home carefully. He wanted to hold Tenna's hand, but he opted not to. When they arrived home, they were quiet. Spamton led Tenna to the couch and insisted he sit and rest. He covered him with a blanket, gave him a kiss on the forehead, then went to reheat their dinner.

Spamton ate a little. Tenna didn't touch it. He couldn't even force himself to take a bite. Spamton said nothing.

They sat together, a few inches apart, now knowing if it was okay to touch and hold. Spamton was waiting for Tenna to initiate. Tenna was stuck frozen, staring at the wall.

Then, a deep inhale. Tenna came to his senses. He leaned into Spamton, still as tall as him. Spamton lifted his arm and held him close.

More silence. Comfortable, or about as comfortable as it could get given the circumstances. Neither of them felt the need to speak.

It was nearly midnight.

Spamton's eyes grew heavy. Tenna's head was shifting downwards.

"Bed?" Spamton offered. Tenna nodded.

They made their way upstairs. Tenna finally returned to his normal height, but he didn't look Spamton in the eyes. When they got under the covers, Tenna was the one burying his face into Spamton's chest. He held him by the waist, clutching, holding, shaking. Spamton wrapped his arms around him, curling into a comfortable position.

Tenna latched onto Spamton's heartbeat like a lifeline. He struggled to keep himself from shuddering and crying again.

But, three little words made the floodgates open.

"I love you."

Tenna sobbed once.

"I love you, Tenna."

Tenna heaved.

"I love you so much."

Tenna nodded shakily. "I love you, Spammy."

A kiss to the top of his head later, Tenna fell asleep, completely and entirely drained.

Spamton held him impossibly close. He muttered a soft prayer, then fell into a restless slumber.

Chapter Text

When Tenna woke up, Spamton wasn't beside him. He turned his head to see the empty space, then he shifted to stare back up at the ceiling.

His body felt heavy and weak. His throat clenched as he heaved a few times. His lungs burned with every stuttering breath he took. He tried to lift his arm, and it barely budged. He made a small sound, then forced himself to roll over onto his side.

It felt like he was hit by a truck. Every movement made pain shoot up through his body, starting from his toes, all the way up to the tips of his antennae. He groaned and pressed his face into his pillow, muffling the sound. His wrists locked for a moment before settling, and he clutched the blankets around him.

He tried to sit up, but the pain flowed through him like tidal waves, crashing into him and knocking him down again. He squeezed the fabric over his heart, nails digging into his skin as he coughed. He curled into a tight ball, shuddering.

It was cold. Too cold.

His body was too hot.

His heart raced too fast.

His lungs ached.

Every time he opened his mouth to speak, no words would come out. His throat clenched painfully, and he let out a strangled gasp. He groaned, low and pitiful.

Where was Spamton? Why had he gone?

Tenna fought through the agony coursing through his body. He stumbled to his feet, barely catching himself on the night stand before he fell. He tripped over his own feet to get to the wall, balancing himself against it. He leaned on it was he made his way to the door, ever so slowly, ever so carefully.

He raised his voice, but it was barely louder than a hoarse whisper. "Spams?" He coughed, a small glitch making itself known. Tenna grimaced.

The storm had done a number on him. He couldn't remember the last time he'd woken up like this, clumsy and helpless. Normally, he tried to wait it out if he was at home, let the unnatural surge of power flow through him naturally. But, he hadn't expected to collapse at the studio.

He shrank a little at the vague memory of Spamton's face above him, his eyes wide, brimming with tears and terror. His shaking hands, his uncertain demeanor. The pain.

The pain.

Tenna shrank even more.

Spamton's hands, cradled close to his chest. Tenna had caused him pain.

He let out something akin to a whimper as he made his way to the top of the stairs. He exhaled a breath, then latched onto the banister like a lifeline. He took it one step at a time. When he reached the landing, he heard some noises coming from the kitchen, and the faint smell of breakfast hit his nose. His stomach rumbled loudly.

The noises paused for a moment, then there were footsteps. Spamton came into view, wiping his hands on a towel. He had a small, apprehensive smile on his face. But, it faded into worry as he took in Tenna's state. He was hunched and heaving, his body trembling as he leaned on the banister.

Spamton started up the stairs, his mouth opening to speak, but Tenna shook his head violently. "I-I'm fine, don't come close," he mustered. "If I fall, you need to move."

Spamton's eyes narrowed a little. "Let me help."

"No," Tenna forced out. Spamton didn't seem rattled in the slightest. He walked up the stairs, and Tenna whimpered again. He tried to keep his distance, to shuffle away from him, from the drop. "Spam, please," he begged. "I can't hurt you again. Please just-"

"Hush," Spamton said, a little more harshly than he'd meant it. He grasped onto Tenna's wrist, and guided his hand to his heart. Tenna nearly burst into tears. "Let me help."

Tenna acquiesced, his head falling, his gaze finding the floor. He trembled for a moment, then with one hand on the banister, and the other finding purchase on Spamton's steady shoulders, they made their way down the stairs. Spamton wrapped an arm secure around his waist, then guided him to the couch. He grunted a little at the weight, but powered through nonetheless.

Tenna fell to the couch, heaving a few times as he held his head in his hands. Spamton remained in front of him, his hands finding the sides of Tenna's face. He leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. "Do you need anything? Does Tyelnol work on robots?" he asked that with a hint of joking in his tone.

Tenna let out a small amused huff, then lifted his head to look into his eyes. Spamton met him there, never faltering. "Tyelnol works, yeah." Spamton nodded, then kissed his forehead again. He turned to leave when Tenna's hand snapped towards him, grabbing his wrist almost frantically, desperately. "Wait."

Spamton turned back instantly, his expression calm, but full of concern. Despite the tight hold, he did not tremble.

He hesitated, then his voice lowered to a pathetic whisper. "I'm sorry."

Spamton stood before him, then wrapped his arms around his head and brought him to his chest. Tenna buried his face above his heart, his hands latching onto his shirt by his waist. He sobbed, shaking and shuddering. "Tenna, don't apologize," Spamton muttered as he rubbed circles onto his shoulders. "You didn't hurt me. I'm just glad you're okay. You worried me."

Tenna forced a nod.

Spamton's wide eyes, his clutched hand, the pain on his face.

Tenna sobbed again.

Spamton simply held him for as long as he needed it. Tenna never wanted to let go of him, never wanted to part from the comforting warmth. He cried until his voice went hoarse, until his tears soaked through Spamton's shirt, until he couldn't cry any more.

Spamton remained steady and quiet, humming a simple tune to help calm. Tenna leaned into the sound, the vibrations from his chest.

Then, Tenna smelled smoke.

His head jerked towards the kitchen, and Spamton gasped.

"The pancakes!" he shrieked before darting into the kitchen, leaving Tenna dumbfounded, a small laugh caught in the back of his throat. He wiped his face as he leaned back, gazing into the kitchen.

Spamton hurriedly threw out the burnt pancakes with a frustrated huff. He opened a window so the burnt smell and bit of smoke would clear. A fresh scent overtook the kitchen, of wet grass and the aftermath of rain. "Sorry, Tenna. I forgot the stove was on."

Tenna found himself laughing under his breath. Pain still wracked his body, which made him wince. But, he smiled anyway. "It's fine." He rested his head on the back of the couch, breathing carefully.

Spamton crossed the room back over to him, then handed him a glass of water and some Tylenol. Tenna thanked him quietly, then took the pills and drank some water. He gave a soft sigh, and Spamton sat down next to him. He grasped onto his hands and held them close to his chest. "Do you want to talk about anything?" he asked.

Tenna hesitated, then shrugged. "Not really." He pursed his lips, wanting to speak, but he couldn't find the right words. "I'm just- it's embarrassing."

Spamton's grip tightened a little. "I'm here to listen."

Tenna averted his gaze with a single nod. "I know. You just... have so much going on, Spams. I can't burden you with my problems on top of that. It's not right."

"Hey," Spamton said firmly. "Like I said before. Two-way street, Tenna. Don't bottle it up for my sake. Talk to me."

Tenna tensed for a moment, then his shoulders slumped. Words formed behind his lips, then they spilled out, wild and uncontrolled. "I miss you when you're not around. So much. Too much. I feel like- like I can't function without you. I'm so used to us being together that I've forgotten how to be on my own. A-and I can't. I can't feel like that anymore."

Spamton nodded, his eyes never once leaving his screen. He studied his face, scanning every glint, every glare, every subtle shift. Tenna's face scrunched up as he continued to speak.

"I love being next to you. You make everything right. But," he trembled a little, apprehension overtaking his expression. He shrank slightly. "I feel awful, Spams. I-I don't want to be apart, but I think I... need to take a step back. For me." He bit his bottom lip. "Don't take it the wrong way, I-I could never, would never want to split. That's not what I mean at all." He choked back a sob. Spamton nodded in understanding, urging him to continue. "I..." He exhaled a hefty breath. "Need some more time on my own. I think."

Spamton thought for a moment, his expression never shifting from worry and concern. Tenna expected him to shrink back, to cry, to ask why. But, he was calm. There wasn't even a storm behind his eyes, just kindness and softness. "Do you want me to go back home?" he asked, his voice never wavering.

Tenna winced, but gave a slow nod. "Yeah. I... I think so."

Spamton kissed his forehead. "Do you need anything else?"

"I still like you coming by after work, to the studio," he said softly. "I don't want to not see you. Just."

"I get it," Spamton said with a smile. "It's what you need, Tenna. I'm not going to fault you for that."

"Will you be okay?" Tenna whispered.

Spamton kissed his forehead. "Let me worry about me."

"I just- I can't do that to you, Spams," Tenna mustered. "Leave you alone. Leave you hurting. I-if you needed me, and I wasn't there, I don't know what I would do."

"Shh." He pressed their foreheads together. "Don't set yourself aside. If I need help, I will let you know. But, you need to take care of yourself, too." He sighed a little. "I feel bad, Tenna. For throwing all of this onto you. I never really thought about how it could affect you. I was... caught up."

"I don't blame you for that, Spams," he said. "I never could."

"And thank you for that," Spamton smiled softly. "You've done so much for me. Now that it's blowing over, I can work it out myself. I've been..." He gave a small exhale. "Using better coping mechanisms. Ever since I met you. I'm doing the things that I've wanted to do because of you. Go on more hikes, work on my cars. You've helped me so much more than you know. It's still." He shuddered a little. "Difficult. But, I can get through it."

Tenna nodded once. "You've been doing so much better," he mumbled. He held his hands tight and close, his thumbs stroking his skin. "I'm really proud of you, Spams." He received a kiss on the forehead for that. He smiled. "It's just for a little while."

Spamton frowned slightly. "Take as much time as you need, Tenna. When you're ready, come talk to me again. I'm not going to be the one to bring it up, okay? It's for you to decide."

Tenna nodded.

"Is there anything else?" Spamton asked.

Tenna shrugged. "That was the biggest thing, I think." He breathed. The pain in his lungs faded to a dull ache, and he was able to move his body easier. He wrapped his arms around Spamton and pulled him close, burying his face into his chest. "I'm sorry."

"What for?" Spamton whispered as he stroked the top of his head.

"Just- I'm sorry," his voice broke. "For- for this. And for last night. And for your brothers. And-"

"Tenna," Spamton said firmly. "I promise. There is not a single part of me that is upset right now. Thank you for opening up to me."

He slouched, a relieved sigh leaving his lips. "You're too good, Spams." He felt like crying again. His stomach turned into anxious knots, and his shoulders trembled ever so slightly.

"It's the bare minimum," he kissed the top of his head. "Do you need anything right now?"

"No, I don't think so." He sat up and wiped his face, grimacing.

He hated crying.

He hated storms.

He hated his body.

His hated his brain.

"Do you want time alone today?" Spamton's voice startled him a little.

He hesitated, then gave a small nod. "Breakfast together sounds nice, though," he said softly.

Spamton smiled. "I'll finish it up, then. Are you going into work today? I can drop you off. We uh. Left your car there."

Tenna pursed his lips. "Yeah. I'll go in for a little bit. Thank you."

Spamton nodded, then stood. He offered his hand to Tenna, who took it and carefully stood as well. He leaned on Spamton, although his legs were already feeling much better than earlier. He sat, and Spamton brought him a mug of coffee, with way too much sugar, and way too much cream. He planted a kiss on his forehead, but Tenna reached out and caught his wrist. "Can I kiss you, Spams?"

He grinned. "Thought you'd never ask." He leaned down and pressed a tender, chaste kiss to his lips. Tenna pushed up into it, his hand cupping Spamton's cheek, his thumb rubbing along his warm skin. It wasted for a few long moments, neither of them wanting to pull away so soon.

Tenna retracted first, but pressed another quick one to his lips with a quaint smile. "I love you, Spammy."

"I love you, Tens," Spamton kissed both his cheeks, then his lips, then his forehead. Tenna lit up at the affection, so easily given. Then, Spamton went and got them both plates of breakfast. Some pancakes with syrup, eggs, and bacon. He sat down next to Tenna, and they ate in comfortable silence.

Tenna leaned against Spamton's shoulder, soaking in the proximity for as long as he could before they left. He still felt guilt wracking his body. He felt the urge to take it all back, to beg Spamton to stay, to never leave his side ever again. But, he knew that wasn't healthy. His attachment had already grown so out of control. He needed to reel it back before it turned into a bigger problem.

"I'm working on a surprise for you," Spamton spoke up suddenly, and Tenna made a small noise of curiosity. "I don't know when it'll be ready. But, I think you'll like it."

"Well, now you've got my interest piqued," Tenna said. "Can I get a hint?"

"You don't like being smaller than usual, right?" Spamton asked, avoiding the question.

"No," Tenna shrugged a little. "I can tolerate it, but being small makes me feel... small." He pursed his lips. "That doesn't make much sense, does it?"

"No, I get it," Spamton nodded.

"Why the sudden question?" he pressed, and Spamton grinned before shrugging.

"No reason. Just... thinking, is all," he mused. He took another bite of breakfast, then a sip of his coffee.

Tenna gave him a hard side glance, then huffed. "Fine. Keep your secrets," he grinned. "I'll just have to make a surprise for you as well. Then, we'll be even."

"Can't wait to see what you come up with." He leaned his head on his shoulder for a moment, then turned to kiss his cheek.

Breakfast continued in more silence. Once Tenna was finished, Spamton took their plates and put them into the dishwasher. He cleaned up the counter of the mess, so Tenna wouldn't have to worry about it. Then, he helped him up the stairs. Tenna could mostly do it by himself, and he forced him to do it mostly by himself, so he wouldn't worry about accidentally hurting Spamton. Spamton then waited downstairs for him to get dressed and ready.

Tenna fumbled to tie his tie, then ultimately gave up on it. He couldn't be bothered to look his best, not today. So, instead of his usual professional get up, he opted for slacks and a simple button-up shirt. He made his way back downstairs, then gathered his things.

Briefcase, wallet, keys, phone. He patted down all his pockets, then looked towards Spamton. "You ready to go?" he asked.

Spamton nodded and stood from the couch. He took out his keys, then they headed out towards his car. It was still raining a little, but it had faded into a light drizzle. Tenna shrank down to sit in the passenger seat.

Spamton started up the car, then started to drive to the studio. He held Tenna's hand in the center console, squeezing it lightly every so often.

They were quiet, unsure of what to say. Tenna's heart still begged for him to take it back, for them to go home and collapse into bed, and forget the world and all their problems. But, he bit the inside of his cheek to remain silent. Spamton left the air between them open, letting Tenna know that he could speak if he wanted to. But, he didn't push him when he didn't.

They reached the studio, and Spamton pulled up to the front. He parked his car for a moment, then got out to help Tenna stand.

Tenna gathered his things, then wrapped his arms around Spamton and kissed the top of his head. "Will you stop by tonight after work?" he asked hesitantly.

"Lovers Mountain?" Spamton offered.

Tenna grinned. "Lovers Mountain."

"I'll see you around six," he said, then reached up to kiss his lips. "I love you."

"I love you, Spams. I'll see you later." He walked up to the studio doors, then sent a look back at him. He blew him a kiss, then headed inside.

He watched Spamton's car drive off, and the ache in his chest returned, full force. He made his way to the break room first, saying a greeting to Lanino and Elnina before grabbing himself another mug of coffee. He walked to his office, then sat down at his chair. He huffed out a breath, then held his head in his hands.

This was what he needed.

This was what he needed.

No matter how much the distance hurt, no matter how much he craved his attention.

He needed space. He needed to work out his attachment.

It was necessary. It was healthy.

Spamton wasn't upset. Not in the slightest. Tenna needed to stop worrying and focus on himself.

He exhaled a long breath, then brought out some paper. He stood for a moment, turning on some music from a record player on a different table. Smooth jazz filled the air as he sat back down, then he started to write some play ideas. He would discuss them with Spamton later that night. It gave him something to look forward to, in addition to reading their cheesy romance book.

He tapped his foot to the beat of the music as he worked. It took over his mind, calming him, grounding him. He wrote easily, the words flowing from his brain onto the paper. He grinned at a few of them, stupid and silly, but entertaining as well. He couldn't wait to show Spamton and Mike.

Far too many of them involved cowboys. Tenna wasn't sure why. He enjoyed them, certainly. But, who cared! He felt carefree.

Right then, he didn't have anything to worry about. He could write and be as silly as he wanted.

Part of him wanted Spamton. Part of him wanted to cry. Part of him wanted to grab that phone and call, just to hear his voice.

But, Tenna shook it out of his mind. He would see him that night. He would see him that night.

He relaxed and drank more of his coffee. The aches in his wrists started again, so he fumbled to grab some Tylenol from his desk. He took some, then stretched his arms above his head.

"Okay," he mumbled. "We're okay. We have work to do."

He breathed, then continued to write.

Today was going to be fine.

He would see Spamton at six.

Chapter Text

Distance.

That was the last thing Spamton wanted. The last thing that he needed.

Distance.

Space.

Time.

Away from Tenna.

He wanted to break down and sob.

But, he couldn't.

He saw the look on Tenna's face, how ashamed and defeated he was, how scared and small he felt. He didn't want it either. He didn't want it, but he needed it.

Who was Spamton to deny that? He had no right to object. It was what Tenna needed.

So, he let him go.

He waved goodbye before he drove off, his heart hammering in his chest, sobbing.

His face fell into a neutral expression as he drove to work. His eyes were trained on the road in front of him, barely reacting to anything. He didn't even realize he'd made it until he parked the car and turned the ignition off. He blinked.

He huffed as he wiped a tear from his eye.

"Stop being dramatic," he muttered angrily. His hands clenched around the steering wheel, and he rested his forehead on it. "You'll see him tonight. You're fine."

Spamton's heart ached.

But, he steeled his nerves and got out of the car.

He'd become far too reliant on Tenna. He should take a step back, think, work through his emotions.

Things had calmed since the broadcast. Spamton had been feeling better, more relaxed, like a weight was lifted from his shoulders. The silence from his brothers was unnerving, but the longer it lasted, the more certain he became that this was all over, that he wouldn't ever see them again, that Pink would finally let him rest.

Spamton gathered his things and headed to the front of his shop. The large garage doors were already open, and people were walking all about. There wasn't a place he could look without beaming with pride at the sight of his cars.

Smooth, pristine reds, flashy yellows, glimmering silvers. Spamton let out a large, happy sigh, then walked inside. He made his way to his office, saying hello to his employees, grinning at each of them. He hung his jacket up on a coat rack, then set his briefcase down on his desk. He got himself a quick cup of coffee, then sat at his desk. He pulled out some blueprints, then started to mull them over.

He was working on yet another redesign. As perfect as the Cungadero was, Spamton realized that it could be better. It could always be better, more accommodating, more comfortable.

Especially for taller people.

The seats could go back really far for those with longer legs. But, that wasn't enough. He'd been thinking about it more often. The longer he stayed with Tenna, the more he realized just how the world is catered to those in the middle. Outliers were never considered. Spamton himself was short, and had plenty of difficulty driving when he was younger. He had to crane his neck to see over the dashboard, and his blind spots were at an awkward angle. So, he took that into consideration when he designed the Cungadero. But, he didn't account for the overly tall people, like Tenna.

So, some modifications needed to be made.

Taller roofs, seats that could go low and far back, but still make it comfortable to drive. That was the basic premise of it.

He bit the end of his pen as he sketched and made notes on the blueprint, highlighting the most important bits, changing what wouldn't work in concept.

As he worked, he found himself thinking about Tenna. That was a given, he never stopped thinking about Tenna. But, instead of their conversation that morning, he thought about just how much pain he had been in.

Spamton had never seen Tenna look so disheveled and exhausted. The way his body creaked and tensed was worrying. Spamton couldn't help but feel guilt, remorse, and an aching in his heart. He wanted to do something. He wanted to help.

He was no stranger to chronic pain. He'd worked his wrists to the bone, and had the occasional flare up if he went too long without a break. But, the way Tenna's entire body trembled, how the gentlest touch made him wince and purse his lips, how he could barely walk by himself, let alone get down the stairs, it made Spamton want to cry.

Had he been struggling with that his entire life?

What did he usually do to help himself? Lie there and wait until it was over? Cry out for help, but nobody would come?

Tenna had begged Spamton to get Mike. So, Mike certainly had to know something, right? Why hadn't Mike bothered to help in a better way? The thought of it made Spamton's blood boil.

He exhaled a breath, then took a moment to calm himself. He was getting so worked up, so angry over something he couldn't control.

But, he could help. Or, at least try to.

When his wrists flared up, Spamton tried to wrap them as much as he could. Or, if he had it with him, a brace. There wasn't much he could do for the pain, but the mobility issue was Spamton's biggest concern. He shuddered at the thought of Tenna slipping down the stairs. He wondered if it had happened before, if he'd just lied there in pain, frozen, unable to move, or get help. Just waiting, waiting, for it to blow over.

He wanted to cry again.

He shook himself out of it.

He pulled his laptop out of his briefcase, then swept the blueprints to the side. He hummed as he searched, trying to find a cane that would accommodate for Tenna's height. It would have to be as tall as Spamton, or around that height. Where would he even find something like that? It would take some digging, sure.

Spamton glanced at the clock. It was around eleven. He had a meeting at one, an interview at three thirty, and was going to the studio at six. He frowned. He looked between his laptop and the blueprints, then folded up the papers and placed them in the top drawer of his desk. They could wait. It would take months to finish the project anyway. Spamton needed to focus on what he could do now.

By the time the meeting drew near, Spamton hadn't found what he needed. It wasn't difficult to find canes, of course. But, none of them would be tall enough for Tenna to use comfortably. He pursed his lips, then closed his laptop. He straightened his tie, then stood and grabbed the reports he needed. He headed towards the meeting room, where a few people were already getting situated. He took his spot at the head of the table, then got started.

The meeting and subsequent interview breezed past. Spamton huffed as he sat back down at his desk. It was nearly five. He held his head in his hands, a sudden wave of anxiety coursing through his body.

He missed Tenna.

He wanted to call.

He wanted to hear him.

He frowned, then pulled the blueprints out from his drawer. He stared at them for several long moments, but he couldn't focus. He was about to pull his laptop back out to continue his search.

But, there was a knock on his door.

Strange. He hadn't been expecting anybody. But, maybe one of the workers needed something. It wouldn't have been a rare occurrence, but Spamton was typically the last person on the list that they went to for help. Nevertheless, he shrugged, then called out, "Come in."

He straightened his desk as the door opened. "How can I-" His eyes drifted up, and his blood ran cold.

"Hi, White," Orange said, with a small smile on his face. "How have you been?"

Spamton's hands clenched into tight fists as the door slid shut behind him.

Orange casually strolled to the desk and took a seat opposite him. "Let's talk."

The world froze as Spamton stared, wide-eyed and terrified at Orange. His eyes darted to the side, and he started to tremble. He sucked in a deep breath, forcing himself to calm, at least a little. "Why?"

"Why talk? Because shit happened, White," Orange sneered. "That's why."

"No," Spamton shook his head. "Why keep trying?" He wanted to curl into a ball and sob. He folded his hands on the table, ignoring the intense urge to dig and scratch and pierce. "Why can't you leave me alone?"

"We love you," Orange reached across, his hand gently resting atop Spamton's. His face was serene, soft, his eyes kind, but searching for any sign of weakness, any break in his demeanor.

"Stop," Spamton tried to pull his hands away, but Orange held on tight. "Stop saying you love me. It's not love."

"Can you blame us for wanting to keep you safe?" he asked. "After you left, you got yourself into so much trouble. Why wouldn't we try everything to make sure you were okay?"

"I got myself a life," Spamton snapped. "Life is supposed to be difficult and troublesome. I wanted to live. You never let me live. You're- you're stuck in a world where I'm still a fucking- a fucking kid! I'm not!" He ripped his hands away from Orange, who blinked in surprise at the sudden volume. "Fuck off, Orange!"

Orange let out a hefty sigh, then ducked his head, his eyes brimming with tears. "You have no idea how difficult it's been. With your room being empty, and Pink constantly worrying about you. We see you on TV, and... you just look so much different."

Spamton's heart twinged. He lowered his gaze to the floor, then sat on his hands. He wanted to rock, to curl up, to scream, to cry. But, he remained quiet. "You kept all my things..?"

"For when you're done with this and come home," Orange said, smiling a little. "Your posters, your collectibles."

Spamton's eyes stung. He opened his mouth to speak, but a sudden rush of anger overtook him. "I said fuck off, Orange."

Orange blinked. "That's no way to talk to me, you ungrateful wretch," he sneered. "You're lucky that I came here today instead of Pink. He's livid with you after the fucking stunt you pulled a few days ago. Hasn't said a word to any of us."

"Good!" Spamton's voice rose. "I don't give a fuck about what any of you have to say about that. I meant it. Every word. I hate being associated with you. I worked too fucking hard to break off. You're ruining everything!" He started to yell. "Why is it that when I have something good going for me, really good going for me, that you all come here and fuck it up?! I finally have what I want, Orange! Be a- be a normal family, and be happy for me!" He slammed his fist on the desk, his face burning hot, his chest heaving.

"We can't be happy for you, because what you are is unnatural," he retorted, his own voice growing. "Everything about you is wrong, White."

Spamton trembled. But not in fear, not in anxiety, but in fury. "No," he forced out. "No. I'm not wrong. Nothing about me is wrong." He lifted his gaze, making direct eye contact with Orange. He blinked in surprise at the intensity of it, then his eyes narrowed. "You always made me think that I was wrong. That I was the problem. I'm not. Because I- I have someone who actually loves me, Orange. H-he..." he trailed off, his face going pale.

"So," Orange leaned forward. "You are with that host. Aren't you? Pink was right. He's a fag too."

Something snapped. Spamton bolted out of his seat, shoving his chair back as he started to yell. "You shut your fucking mouth! Say what you want about me, Orange. But do not say a single word about Tenna. He's more of a man than any of you are. He's kind, he's considerate. He's never once called me fag, or retard, or stupid, or slow." He pointed a finger directly into his face, and Orange leaned back, a look of pure shock overtaking him. "He's everything you're not. He's everything that you could never be."

"Everybody turns their back even-"

"Oh my god!" Spamton let out a violent, exasperated huff. His hands fell to his sides, clenching so tightly that his knuckles shaded white, his nails dug deep into his skin. "Stop trying to talk to me like that. It's not fucking working anymore, okay?! I'M PAST YOU!"

Orange stood abruptly, his hand reaching across the desk to snatch Spamton by the front of his shirt. "You're never past family."

Spamton shoved him back with a grunt. "I'm not. But you aren't my family. You never treated me like family. Tenna- Tenna treats me like I'm somebody. Like I'm important."

"He's using you, Spam," Orange's voice became impossibly quiet. "You think it's a coincidence that he 'falls in love' after you start making him so much money?"

Spamton almost laughed out loud, a sharp, angry sound that cut through the tense air like a knife. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he breathed in deep. "You can't affect me anymore, Orange. Okay? Please. Stop trying. Just- just go."

"We're all so-"

"GO!" he shrieked. He stormed over to him and shoved him hard by the chest. "LEAVE! I don't want to see any of you again! If I do, I'm- I'll-" He broke off with a noise of frustration. "FUCK OFF!"

He continued to push until Orange's back was pressed against the wall, his hand already reaching for the door handle. "Pink won't-"

"Tell Pink he can shove it up his ugly ass," Spamton snapped, ripping the door open for him and shoving him once again. "Go. Get out of my shop. Get out of my life. I never want to see you, or Pink, or Yellow, or Blue, ever again. I've had enough. I've fucking had enough of you."

Orange stared at him for a long moment. He opened his mouth to speak, but Spamton slammed the door in his face. Then, he heard stomps and some muttered swears.

Spamton heaved. Hot tears brimmed in his eyes and streamed down his cheeks. He aggressively wiped them away with the hem of his sleeve. But, more came.

He turned the lock on his door before he stalked back to his desk. He stared down at the blueprints, his vision blurry and red.

He covered his face with his hands, then sank down to the floor. He crumpled into a heap, then his body started to shake with fury, with agony, with fear.

He barely managed to choke back a sob of frustration, of despair. He forced himself to sit up, and pressed the bottoms of his hands over his eyes. He breathed for a few long moments. He wad determined not to cry. He would be fine. 

He wanted Tenna.

What time was it? Certainly almost six. Please, let it be almost six.

Five twenty.

Spamton nearly burst into sobs right then.

He brought himself up onto his unsteady feet, bracing himself on the desk. He collapsed into his chair.

The phone had never been so tempting.

Spamton made a small, pathetic noise, then reached for it.

He needed Tenna.

The phone rang only twice.

"Spams! Hi!" His voice was bright, a smile clearly on his lips. "I have so many things I want to show you when you get here. Been working on some pretty cool stuff!"

Spamton sniffled once, and prayed it was quiet enough for the phone to not pick it up.

But, of course, Tenna heard. "Hey, are you okay?"

Spamton bit back a sob. He inhaled deeply, then spoke quietly. "I'm okay. Just... wanted to hear you."

"You'll see me in less than an hour, Spams," Tenna said softly. "What's going on?"

There he went again, being so caring, so attentive, even when Spamton was being selfish.

He hesitated. "Nothing," he mustered. "Just tired. How are you feeling?"

"A lot better," he said. "The pain never really lasts for that long. It's just... overwhelming right afterwards."

Spamton nodded and hummed a little in recognition. He bit his bottom lip. Then, let out a small sigh. "I uhm..." He couldn't. He couldn't tell him. "I love you, Tenna."

"I love you, Spammy," Tenna's voice turned worried once again. "Hey, just because I... I asked for a bit of space doesn't mean you can't talk to me. I don't want you to feel like I've turned my back on you at all. I... I really missed you too, today."

"No, I know," Spamton sighed. "I'm just... being dramatic, is all. I think I need to work out some things on my own as well. Attachment wise."

Tenna paused for a moment. "You never told me how you felt about it. It's been bothering me."

Spamton pursed his lips. "What I feel about it doesn't matter, Tenna. It's what you need. I have no right to object to it."

"How do you feel, Spams?"

His breath hitched. "I-I can't- It doesn't matter, Tenna. I told you-"

"How do you feel, Spamton?"

He tensed at the firmness of his tone. He shrank down a little. "I don't like it."

"Why?"

Spamton wanted to cry. "Because you're the first... the first person who's actually loved me. And... I don't want to be away from you." He squeezed his eyes shut, begging himself not to cry. "I'm being stupid, and selfish, a-and I can't be doing this to you. It's not what you need. I'm sorry. I-I just-"

"Hey," Tenna whispered gently, his voice smooth and calm. "You have a right to have emotions, Spams. It's okay for you not to like it. I don't like it either. But, it's going to become a dependency issue if we don't figure it out now. Once we're confident again, we can spend all the time we want together."

Spamton nodded, and made a small sound. "Yeah. I know." He curled in on himself a little. "Can we... not talk about important things tonight? Just... be how things were before?"

"Of course," Tenna said softly. "But, if you want to talk, I'm always going to listen. Okay?"

"Okay," he muttered. He sucked in a breath, then exhaled slowly. "I'll see you soon. I love you, Tenna."

"I love you, Spams. Bring Lovers Mountain. We left on a cliffhanger last time."

Spamton snorted. "Bring the whiskey. I need to take the edge off."

"Whatever you need, love."

They should have hung up.

But, they didn't.

They sat in silence for a few moments, not wanting it to end.

Spamton cleared his throat. "I love you."

Tenna answered as easy as breathing. "I love you."

Then, Spamton hung up.

He dropped the phone and held his head in his hands.

But, strange enough, he felt better.

Tenna wasn't upset. He wasn't angry. He was always so considerate, always so kind. It made Spamton want to sob.

What did he do to deserve a man like Tenna? What went so astronomically right in his life for him to deserve a man like Tenna? He'd had to have saved a starving nation in his previous life, certainly. There was no other explanation.

Spamton glanced at the clock. It was a little past five thirty.

He sighed, then pulled his laptop out again.

He busied himself searching for canes again. Then, one caught his eye.

It was from a website specifically catering towards people like Tenna, unordinarily tall, and just big in general. They had all kinds of products, ranging from clothes to larger books for easier reading, and the like. He clicked on a few of their canes, and they were exactly what he was looking for. It could extend between four and six feet, and it was extremely well-crafted and sturdy, with a thick rubber nub on the bottom to prevent slipping. Spamton grinned, giddiness welling up in his chest.

He scrolled through the colors, finding a sleek, shiny red one with a golden handle. It was too perfect to be real. He bought it without a second thought. It would take a short while to get there, since the business was small and stationed a long ways away. But, nonetheless, Tenna would have it soon enough. And, it would match him on stage, in case he needed it.

Spamton sighed happily, then closed his laptop and started to pack his things. He brought his coffee mug to the break room and put it in the dishwasher. He waved farewells to his employees. Some of them gave him a few worried looks, but the smile on his face helped them ease. He couldn't blame them for seeming uncertain. His office wasn't the most soundproof, so they'd most likely heard the shouting and the crying and the like.

Spamton didn't let himself be bothered by it. He was going to be in a good mood when he met up with Tenna.

He could save the mental breakdown until he was safe and secure in his own bedroom.

He got into his car, then he started to drive. He turned the music up way too loud, forcefully drowning out the voices in his head. He tapped his finger on the wheel to the beat of the music.

He reached the studio a little after six, and happily hopped out of his car. He strolled through the building with a pep in his step, his book clutched under his arm, a grin on his face. He nodded to whoever he passed by, then reached Tenna's office and knocked.

"Come in," Tenna answered.

Spamton pushed the door open. "Hey hey!" he said. "How's the big man?"

Tenna looked up at him, a slight look of confusion on his face. But, he shook it off, smiling a little. "Good! Sit, I got you your favorite." He gestured to the glass of whiskey, and Spamton eagerly sat and started to sip. "Alright, so. I've been thinking," he started. Spamton nodded for him to continue. "I've been missing stage plays a lot more recently. Soooooo." He slapped a few sheets of paper in front of Spamton. "I've been thinking of bringing a new segment onto the show! Live theatrical performances!"

Spamton blinked, then nodded thoughtfully. He picked up the papers, then started to read through the ideas. He grinned. "I didn't know you liked cowboys, Tenna."

"A rediscovery of mine," he said. "It'll be a while, months, probably, before it can actually be aired. But, a good project to start working on." He leaned forward a little, his hand inching across the desk.

Spamton caught sight of it, then grasped onto it, and brought it to his lips to kiss. Tenna flushed a little. "I think it's a great idea. We'll both be working on something, then."

"What are you working on, Spams?" Tenna asked, bringing his hand to his lips to kiss as well. He laced their fingers together, stroking his knuckles with his thumb.

"Oh, you know," he said as he finished reading through the papers. "New Cungadero model."

Tenna stared at him skeptically. "And... you're not going to rant about it?"

Spamton grinned, then avoided the question completely. "So, we were on chapter twenty-two, right?"

Tenna leaned back and crossed his arms. "Fine. Keep your secrets. Thought you would go on and on."

"Later," Spamton waved his hand dismissively. "It's a secret. Can't let the public know."

"I'm great at keeping secrets!" Tenna whined, then he huffed. "Fiiiiiiine." He brought his book out, then turned to his bookmarked page. "Page two-fifty-two."

Spamton flipped to that page, then nodded in recognition. He relaxed, then took a sip of whiskey. He was about to start reading, but he felt Tenna's gaze still on him. He turned to look, and Tenna was pouting ever so slightly. Spamton raised an eyebrow.

"Can I kiss you, Spams?" Tenna asked quietly, almost apprehensively.

Spamton smiled softly. He stood and crossed over to Tenna, who turned to face him with a giddy grin. He cupped his cheek, then their lips slotted together.

Spamton would never get over the perfectness of it. Tenna's warmth enveloped him completely, his hands on his waist, his thumbs meeting in the middle of his belly. He held him close, but loose. Spamton laid a hand on his wrist, his fingers curling, trying to tell him he could hold tighter. Tenna hesitated, then experimentally tightened his grip. Spamton nodded into the kiss, never once breaking contact.

Tenna surged forward, kissing him almost feverishly. Their lips broke apart for a moment, letting them catch their breaths. Tenna barely managed a second before he dove back in, his tongue running along Spamton's bottom lip. He made a small noise before he let his lips fall open, and Tenna pressed his tongue inside. He mapped the expanse of his mouth, stealing his breath right from his lungs. Spamton leaned into him, one hand on his shoulder, the other still on his face.

Then, Spamton shifted, spreading his legs a little. He sat on Tenna's knee. He had to tilt his head up to keep their lips connected, but he didn't mind. Tenna never faltered. He held him secure, his leg moving so he could sit comfortably. He blushed furiously, then pulled away. Thin strands of saliva connected their lips.

Spamton's chin was covered in it too. He heaved, struggling to catch his breath.

He wanted more.

But, he hesitated.

Did Tenna want more?

Before he could ask, he received his answer.

Tenna kissed him hungrily, making small noises, like stifled moans, as he kissed him over and over again. His hands squeezed and kneaded the flesh of his waist, his fingers pinching the cloth of his shirt. Spamton openly moaned into Tenna's mouth, and the sound drove him crazy. He forced their lips apart again.

Spamton's eyes went wide as he stared up at Tenna, wanting more, needing more. He scanned his face, and Tenna had the same look of desperation, but it was mixed with apprehension as well.

"I..." He started, then cleared his throat. "Maybe... one more night together won't be so bad?"

Spamton's mind screamed at him. YES YES YES SAY YES PLEASE SAY YES!!!

He should say no. He should say no. They needed to figure out-

Oh, fuck it. What was one more night?

"Maybe," he mustered. He chased Tenna's lips, who eagerly kissed him back, filled with all the passion he could muster, all the words he couldn't say. "I love you," he managed between kisses, breathless and helpless within Tenna's grasp.

"I love you," Tenna moaned out, as his lips slid downwards. He inhaled deeply, then kissed the crook of Spamton's neck. He licked and bit gently, but Spamton writhed beneath him.

"Fuck," he whimpered, craning his neck so Tenna would reach further, kiss harder, bite down more. And, he did. "Yes- fuck- Tenna- Tenna!"

"I need you, I need you so bad," Tenna mumbled into his skin. Spamton's hands dug into him, his body trembling with desire. "Let's go home. Can we go home?"

"Please," Spamton begged. "Take me home."

Chapter Text

Spamton held Tenna by the tie as they pulled each other towards the bedroom. Their lips were flush together, wet, hot, needy. Spamton gasped into Tenna's mouth as his hands yanked at his clothes, haphazardly stripping him. They broke apart for only a few moments, not bothering to make a show for each other as they got undressed. Spamton tripped over his pants, and with a laugh, Tenna caught him.

Both bare now, Tenna sat at the edge of the bed. He shrank down a few feet, which Spamton didn't want, but he knew Tenna was still apprehensive. So, he didn't comment.

Tenna leaned back on one hand, the other beckoning Spamton close. In a split second, Spamton launched himself onto Tenna's lap, wrapping his legs around his waist, holding his shoulders, kissing his face with bruising force. Tenna held him tight by the waist, his nails ever so slightly digging into his skin. Spamton moaned a little, and gave a nod. Tenna pressed up into him, their cocks rubbing against each other. Spamton clenched his eyes shut and moaned at the friction.

Tenna's large hand cradled his face, his fingers gently carding through his hair. His other hand ran down Spamton's body, leaving a trail and goosebumps and shudders of pleasure. Spamton's breath caught in his throat as Tenna's thumb brushed up against his nipple, and he fell forward, his head landing on Tenna's shoulder.

"You like that?" Tenna whispered, his thumb starting to encircle his nipple, flicking it carefully.

"Yes," Spamton breathed. He bit his bottom lip, trying to stifle a loud and embarrassing moan. But, Tenna continued to fiddle with his nipple. His other hand found the opposite one, and in tandem, he started to pinch and gently twist. Spamton's entire body shuddered as his voice broke. He moaned into Tenna's shoulder, which earned him a firm kiss on the neck.

Tenna took his time, kissing the sensitive skin in the crook of his neck, as well as biting it softly and licking the spot. His hands curled around his chest, with his thumbs still paying close attention to his nipples. The sudden slowness of it all made Spamton's head spin. He couldn't help but want more. He wanted everything that Tenna could give him, and more.

"Tenna," he muttered, but his voice was cut off by a particularly harsh bite and a subsequent tug on his nipples. His hips rolled forward, his cock rubbing against Tenna's. The friction made his mind go fuzzy. "Tenna, I-I want-"

"What do you want, baby?" Tenna whispered as his hand slid from his nipple down to their cocks. He wrapped his hand around them, then he started to stroke.

"Fuck," Spamton huffed, his eyes screwing shut. He let out a breathy moan as Tenna's hands relentlessly pleasured him. "I-I want you, please, please."

Tenna sucked in a breath, then mouthed at Spamton's neck, his tongue licking a long stripe from his shoulder to just under his ear. "Tell me how you want me."

Spamton moaned and shook his head. "I can't- it's-"

"It's just me, Spams," Tenna said softly. He trailed kissed up the center of his throat, grinning as it bobbed under his lips. He pressed a kiss to Spamton's lips, who averted his gaze, his face flushing a deep red.

"It's because it's you that it's embarrassing," he muttered. "I thought that I... I needed to be assertive. But, you always go and make me feel like- like I can give up and still be safe."

Tenna paused the pleasure for just a moment, which made Spamton whine in protest. But, a passionate kiss to his lips made him melt completely.

"I want you to- to take care of me," Spamton admitted. "I want- can you- please?"

Tenna kissed him again. "I can do whatever you want, Spams." His hands returned to their spots, one on his nipple, the other stroking their cocks. "This?"

"Yes," Spamton breathed, and he bucked his hips into Tenna's grasp, moaning at the sensation.

Tenna peppered his neck with kisses once again. His hand sped up and tightened ever so slightly, his thumb rubbing along the tips of both of their cocks, making him moan low in his throat. Spamton's neck craned as he tilted his head back, giving Tenna more access. He mouthed at his neck harder, his tongue and teeth grazing the sensitive skin. There came a harsh tug on his nipple, and Spamton cried out. He gasped as his body trembled, overwhelmed with so much pleasure, he didn't know what to do with himself.

Tenna stroked faster, and Spamton moaned as heat started to pool in his gut. He rocked forward into Tenna's hand, his hips bucking as he chased his release. Tenna moaned as his hand started to falter. Spamton came first, spilling all over both of their stomachs with a high-pitch whine. Tenna wasn't too far behind, his face pressing into the crook of Spamton's neck, the vibrations from his voice making a shiver run down his spine.

They remained still for a moment, heaving, the air between them hot and heavy. Spamton wrapped his arms around Tenna's neck and leaned into him, shuddering with the aftermath of his orgasm. "More," he mustered, and Tenna's hands held him tightly.

He shifted their positions, standing up carefully and turning around. He laid Spamton down on his back, then took his spot above him. They stared at each other for a moment, gazes locked, faces flushed.

Spamton's hand raised and gently cupped Tenna's cheek. He smiled softly, then tilted his head to the side, exposing his neck once again. "You can, uhm," he blushed as his eyes drifted away. "Be rougher. If you wanted."

Tenna grinned. "You remember the safe word?"

Spamton nodded. "Cut."

"Good boy," Tenna mumbled, then he leaned down to capture his lips in a kiss. Spamton moaned into his mouth, squirming at the praise. He paused for a moment, walking away from Spamton to grab the lube from the top drawer of his nightstand. He fumbled with the cap, then poured some onto his hand. He took his place above him once again, then trailed a finger down to his asshole. "Is this okay?"

"Y-yeah, just-" He broke off with a huff, wanting, needing, but slightly apprehensive at the same time. "I've never..." He trailed off, embarrassed.

Tenna kissed his lips chastely. "Tell me if you need me to stop, okay?"

Spamton sucked in a breath as the tip of Tenna's finger ever so carefully pressed inside. Spamton gritted his teeth at the stretch, but Tenna took it even slower. He left it in place for a few moments, letting Spamton get used to it. Then, he inched it inside a little more. Once he was knuckle deep, he started to thrust a little at a time. Spamton's nails dug into Tenna's skin, his breath caught in his throat.

Spamton's body was pliant, ready to be shaped and molded to however he needed to be. Tenna's finger glided inside of him, the slide becoming easier with every careful thrust. He gathered more lube onto his hand, then started to ease a second finger inside. Spamton's breath hitched for a moment, but it settled into a moan. The stretch was new, it felt strange. But, it wasn't painful.

Spamton's hands fell to the blankets, and he clutched them tightly. Tenna captured his lips in a kiss as he started to thrust more purposefully, and he ever so slightly spread his fingers apart. Spamton cried out, and Tenna tensed up. He started to retract, but Spamton aggressively shook his head. "No! No, keep going- it's good, it's so good," he mumbled, his eyes cracking open just a little.

Tenna gazed at him, taking in his expression. His face was scrunched up, but he could see any sign of pain in his eyes. Just desire, want, need, and pleasure. He nodded, then split his fingers apart a little more. He picked up the pace, relishing the warmth and pressure as Spamton clenched around him.

He added a third finger, which did make Spamton freeze up once again. But, like it had before, the stretch and slide got easier with every gentle thrust from Tenna. Tenna retracted with a satisfied huff, then leaned down to kiss a line from Spamton's belly up to his lips. He kissed him hard, stealing the air from his lungs. Spamton's lips dropped open, and Tenna's tongue eagerly pressed inside. His fingers lingered around his asshole, pressing inside again and thrusting at a more confident speed.

Spamton moaned into his mouth, then gasped in surprise as Tenna's tongue shoved its way down his throat. He choked a little, then he started to suck on it. Tenna let his weight drop a little, and he pressed Spamton deep into the mattress. Spamton moaned and whined into his mouth, unsure of what to do with his hands. They fluttered from the blankets, up to Tenna's shoulders, then to his face. He wrapped his arms around his neck and pulled him close.

Tenna's fingers reached even deeper, the tip of one striking Spamton's prostate. Spamton whined and writhed, bucking his hips so his finger would press against it more. Tenna's face retracted, his lips covered in saliva, and Spamton wasn't faring that much better. His lips were bitten red and swollen, with saliva dripping down his chin. His chest heaved as he struggled to catch his breath in between the loud moans as Tenna continued to rub against his prostate.

Spamton leaned his head back and screwed his eyes shut, heat pooling in his belly for the second time. His body rocked in tandem with Tenna's thrusts, and just as his moans were about to breach the octave, Tenna retracted.

"Hey!" Spamton yelped at the sudden loss of contact. He was about to complain more when he heard the bottle of lube being popped open again. He sat upright just in time to see Tenna coating his cock with it, a grin on his face.

He placed a hand on Spamton's chest and slowly pushed him down onto his back. Then, he climbed on top of him. "Are you ready, love?" he asked, his cock already pressing against the rim of his asshole, throbbing with need and want. He was so hard, it was almost painful.

Spamton nodded. "Y-yes, I'm ready, I'm-" He broke off as Tenna's cock pressed inside.

The stretch was unreal. Better than Tenna's fingers, better than anything Spamton could have ever imagined. He arched his back as Tenna bottomed out, letting out a series of broken moans with every little thrust. Tenna got himself comfortable, then his gaze drifted downwards.

"Holy shit." He let out a bubbly laugh, then his hand spread out along the expanse of Spamton's belly. "Spam, Spammy," he mumbled in astonishment. "God, look at you. I can see myself in you, right here." He pressed his hand down, and Spamton let out a long, high-pitched whine. He leaned further into the mattress, his mind white and misty, stars swirling in his vision.

Spamton could feel every single inch of Tenna's cock, splitting him open, stretching him in a way that he'd never thought possible. As his hand pressed on his belly, he clenched down hard. Tenna let out a moan, then he started to get restless. He started to rock his hips forward. "Can I move? Are you okay?"

"Mh-hm," Spamton nodded, words becoming completely unreliable. Each time he tried to speak, it only came out as a breathy and desperate moan. He squirmed under Tenna's grasp, hoping he was able to convey what he wanted.

Tenna grinned, then he started to shift. He pulled out halfway, then eased back in. The slow and careful pace made Spamton's world spin, and he moaned, wordlessly begging for more. "If you can't talk, two taps on my left shoulder to stop. Okay?"

"Mh-hm," Spamton could only nod.

Tenna exhaled a deep breath, then he started to thrust more purposefully. He kept one hand on Spamton's belly, shuddering as he felt his cock slide in and out, the tip of it bulging out against his skin. He leaned down, pressing his lips to the center of Spamton's chest, kissing him there, and the crook of his neck. Then, he grinned. He slid his mouth along his chest, then gingerly took his nipple between his lips. He started to lick and suck, making loud, obscene noises as Spamton shrieked and gasped.

"T-Tenna!" he babbled. "Tenna, Tenna, Tenna! Tenna, please!"

Tenna's hand scooted up from the bed, his fingers taking and pinching his other nipple. He moaned into Spamton's skin as his hips picked up the pace again, fucking him in earnest. Spamton shuddered and gasped and moaned, writhing under Tenna, his cock weeping and begging for release.

But, Tenna didn't pay any attention to it. He continued bombarding his nipples with pinches and licks, every so often letting his teeth graze along the puffy, sensitive skin. Spamton wailed with every motion, heaving, trembling. His hands latched onto Tenna's back, his nails raking along his skin, digging into soft silicone. Tenna's lips released his nipple with an embarrassing pop, and he sent a grin up at Spamton. His eyes were clenched shut, his face so red and sweaty.

Tenna looked closer, and there were tears in the corners of his eyes. His froze, his breath hitching. "Hey, hey, are you okay? Am I hurting you?" He dropped his hand, and his thrusts stopped suddenly.

Spamton whined at the loss. "Tenna," he moaned pathetically. "Don't stop, why'd you stop?"

"You're crying," Tenna whispered. "Did I-?"

"Tenna," Spamton's hand grasped onto his wrist, and he guided it to his chest. Tenna felt his heart beating like crazy beneath his skin, rapid and frantic, like he'd been running a marathon. Tenna looked back up at his face. He was smiling. "I'm okay. It's good, it's so good. Please, don't stop. Don't stop."

Tenna nodded, then let his hands return to their spots. As soon as he did, a tear slipped from Spamton's eye. He leaned forward and gently kissed it away, which made Spamton moan and nod.

With newfound vigor, Tenna's thrust sped up once again. He abandoned Spamton's nipples, instead bracing himself on the bed and shifting his angle. He shuddered as Spamton clenched around him again, tighter than before. He was close. Tenna was, too.

"So good, so good for me, baby," Tenna whispered, his face coming close to Spamton's neck. He breathed on his skin, then bit down into the crook of his neck. Spamton shrieked and shuddered. His hips bucked upwards desperately, and his moans became higher-pitched and broken. Tenna's hand wrapped around his weeping cock, and Spamton shook beneath him. He stroked him in tandem with his thrusts, which started to stutter as heat pooled in his gut.

In a sudden rush of lustful confidence, Spamton spoke, rapid and somewhat nonsensical. "Cum inside me, I-I want all of it, I need all of you!"

Tenna made a surprised noise, and a rush of arousal shot through his body, right from his brain down to his cock. He grunted, then a few moments later, he came again. Tenna stayed buried deep inside Spamton, who trembled and squirmed, his chest heaving as he came all over Tenna's hand. Warmth spread within him, and Spamton's breath hitched as all he could feel was love and pleasure.

Tenna collapsed to the bed next to him, his arms wrapping around him, safe and secure. His lips pressed against the back of Spamton's ear. "Mine," he mumbled, holding him tightly, possessively. "Mine, all mine."

Spamton shuddered at the words. "Yours," he whispered. He curled up a little, his hands latching onto Tenna, his face burying into his shoulder. "Tenna, I'm yours."

"Yes," Tenna breathed. He kissed the back of his neck, relishing the shiver that ran down his spine. "I love you. I love you so much. You're mine, Spams. You're... you're just for me. You're mine."

Spamton nodded helplessly. His eyes drifted shut as he lay there, filled with nothing but warmth and love.

Then, he grew uncomfortable at the stickiness coating his body.

"Tenna," he muttered. "Can we clean up?"

Tenna chuckled, then kissed his cheek and nodded. "Stay here, love. I'll be back."

Spamton hummed in response, then Tenna left the bed and headed into the bathroom. He returned with some damp towels, and he started to wipe them both clean. Spamton trembled as Tenna cleaned his oversensitive body. Everything about this was new. The warm feeling in his heart, the aches in his body, but in the best way possible. When Tenna brushed against his nipples, Spamton moaned lightly, his eyes squeezing shut. Tenna chuckled and kissed him again.

"Do you need anything? Water? Snack?" he asked, but Spamton shook his head.

"Just you. Please?" His eyes blinked up at him, wide and pleading. Tenna couldn't help but obey. He laid back down on the bed, capturing Spamton's lips in a tender kiss.

"I'll make dinner soon," Tenna said, and Spamton pouted a little. "Love, don't be like that," he teased. "When was the last time you ate? We're having dinner."

Spamton rolled his eyes. "Fine." He sighed happily, then curled into Tenna's chest again. "Let me nap first. It's been a long day."

Tenna hummed, and he gladly wrapped his arms around him. "I love you, Spams."

Spamton yawned. "I love you, Tenna."

They would worry about everything later. Right then, they just needed each other.

Chapter Text

It took a long while for either of them to want to get up. Spamton was content laying there, wrapped in warmth and love. Tenna had tried to get him up, but he had refused. Soon, though, his stomach betrayed him with a loud grumble, followed by a craving for pasta. He groaned and pressed his face into Tenna's shoulder.

"Hungry?" Tenna chuckled. He kissed the top of Spamton's head. "You can stay up here while I cook."

Spamton pouted. "I want to hang out with you."

Tenna sat up, and Spamton followed him, latched onto his arm, stuck to him like glue. He let out a sigh and shook his head, a grin on his face, then started to stand from the bed. "Well, then you're going to have to get up."

Spamton groaned, but stood as well. His legs wobbled, and he grasped onto the nightstand for balance. His head pounded. His limbs ached. His mind was still fuzzy with bliss. He stumbled towards the bathroom and shut the door behind him.

Meanwhile, Tenna got dressed. He winced as the pain in his body returned, and he pursed his lips. He'd been fine during the day, but of course, of course, it had to flare up right then. His knees locked as his wrists twitched a little, and he had to sit back down. He put his head in his hands and breathed in deeply.

He sat there for a long while, until Spamton was done in the bathroom. When the door opened, he heard a little noise, remorseful and sympathetic. "Hey, you okay?" Spamton asked, making his way towards him and sitting. He put a hand on his back, stroking circles with his thumb.

Tenna shrugged. "Just the pain from this morning is back. I think I," he cut himself off with a chuckle. "Overexerted myself."

Spamton flushed, then turned to look at the floor, a little embarrassed. "Do you want me to get you more Tylenol? I can make dinner too, if you're hurting too badly."

Tenna shook his head. "Thank you, Spams. But I can do it. You can barely stand on your own as-is."

He rolled his eyes. But, he had to admit, his legs did feel like jelly. "I'm fine. Come on, I'll help you downstairs."

"Spams, don't worry about it," Tenna tried to argue, but Spamton was already on his feet, beckoning for him to take his hand. Tenna sighed, then with unsteady legs and Spamton's help, they made their way downstairs. It was much easier than that morning, since Tenna was delirious with exhaustion and pain. Still a struggle, but manageable.

Spamton guided him to the couch, where he kissed his forehead and went to grab him a glass of water and some more Tylenol. He returned after a moment, then went back to the kitchen. He started to mess with things, opening cupboards and taking things out. Tenna turned around, frowning slightly.

"Spams, I can make dinner," he protested, but Spamton only shook his head.

"Rest, Tenna." He sent him a warm smile, nothing but kindness and adoration in his eyes. "Besides, I've been meaning to get better at cooking. You saw how those pancakes were."

Tenna snorted. "You're a fine cook, Spams. You just get distracted."

Spamton rolled his eyes. "How's chicken parm for dinner?"

"Sounds delicious," Tenna said as he leaned back on the couch. He grabbed a blanket, then laid down and brought it up to his shoulders.

He had to admit, he was kind of glad that Spamton was cooking. While the pain had been fine throughout the day, this flare up was already starting to kick his ass. Not to mention the fact that he was still pretty exhausted from the day before. He always felt glooby and weak for a few days after a storm.

He frowned at the memory, and curled up tighter under the blanket.

While it was never a fun experience, Tenna had never collapsed like that before. Normally, his body was just so overloaded and overwhelmed with electricity that he glitched out like crazy. He would hide in his office or try to leave early when it happened. It would leave naturally as the storm passed, but Tenna wasn't ever able to control his body. He would jerk and flail, or grab things and not be able to let go. It wasn't safe. He wasn't safe.

He tried his best to call Mike before things got too terrible. Mike would come in and turn his power off, then back on, and the electricity would run its course faster, leaving his body within a few moments. But, that always made him achy and in pain. It was better than hurting anyone else. Tenna had to remind himself of that constantly.

He made a small noise at the sight of Spamton before him, trembling, holding his hurt wrist. Tenna wrapped his arms around his chest, crossing them over his panel. He turned to lay on his side, then let out a shuddering sigh. He pursed his lips, then stood, the blanket still over his shoulders. He hobbled over to the kitchen, then pulled up a chair and sat by the counter. Spamton greeted him with a kiss and a smile, then continued to work.

Comfortable silence overtook the kitchen as Spamton worked, humming a little as he did so. But, then he started to talk. "Wanna hear about the Cungadero's engine?" he blurted, his face a little pink as a dopey smile overtook his expression.

Tenna, slightly surprised by the sudden words, started to smile. "Are you going to tell me about the latest things you're working on?"

"Psh, I told you already, the public can't know yet!" He grinned. "So. Yeah? Nah?"

"I'm listening to every word," Tenna said as he leaned his elbows on the counter. "Thrill me, Spams."

So, Spamton started to talk. His shoulders relaxed as he continued to cook, rambling on and on about whatever he could think of. He would remember something, then go off on a five-minute tangent, and forget what he was originally talking about. Tenna would remind him with a chuckle, and Spamton would pause to kiss him, then continue.

He talked on and on while dinner cooked in the oven, leaning on the counter in front of Tenna, who was hanging on to every word. He nodded along, made comments, and asked questions. Spamton was more than happy to answer them, a wide smile on his face.

Once dinner was done, the Tylenol had kicked in fully, and Tenna was able to get himself a plate. But, Spamton refused. He ushered Tenna back to the couch, where he got him a glass of water and a hefty pile of food. He joined in after grabbing his own, and they ate together, leaning into each other, happy and content.

The rest of the night passed quietly. They went back up to bed after dinner, exhausted and spent, and full of good, warm food. Tenna laid on his back, spreading his arms and legs wide, taking up most of the space. Spamton rolled his eyes and situated himself beside him, using one of his arms as a pillow.

Tenna held him close and planted a kiss to the top of his head. "I love you, Spams."

Spamton smiled softly and kissed his lips. "I love you, Tenna. Sleep well."

Then, after a while, Tenna drifted into a peaceful slumber.

Spamton stayed awake. He stared up at the ceiling, lost in his own mind. The seconds blended into minutes, into hours, and there was only one thought circling his brain.

Everything about you is wrong, White.

Spamton had pushed aside his anger and frustration, leaving it to simmer and grow. He didn't want to tell Tenna. He couldn't tell Tenna. Not when he was dealing with all of this, the pain and shame, the sadness and anxiety. He couldn't add to that. It was a stupid, selfish thing to do.

So, despite wanting to spill and scream and yell and cry, he didn't. He stayed silent. Or, he distracted himself.

But, he couldn't anymore.

In the stillness and silence of the night, Spamton trembled.

Everything about you is wrong, White.

Nothing about him was wrong. Spamton kept trying to tell himself that, kept trying to convince himself that he was normal, natural, valid.

He couldn't shake it.

He wouldn't ever be able to shake it.

The shame, fear, stress. The terror that someone would find out and spill his secrets, screaming to the world that he was...

Spamton clenched his jaw and curled up against Tenna. He moved to wrap his arms around him, but it was too much. He could feel his clothes on his body, could hear every creak of the bed, the whispers of the wind, the sheets on his skin, smooth, silk, the fluffy blanket, the-

Spamton jolted out of bed, barely managing to catch himself before he hit the floor. He bit back a sob as he sat up, staring at Tenna, still peacefully sleeping. Guilt welled up in his gut.

He was pathetic. He was sad. He was miserable.

Why would Tenna ever want somebody like him?

Broken. Used. Broken. Used.

Spamton forced himself to his feet and hurried towards the bathroom. He shut the door and headed towards the furthest corner, collapsing to his knees, barely able to contain his tears.

Tenna wouldn't want him.

Tenna shouldn't want him.

Spamton was wrong.

Why did Tenna stay? What did he gain from this? A partner who constantly needs attention and reassurance? A liability who cried like a baby anytime he was left for too long?

Everything about you is wrong, White.

"Stop," he whimpered, shoving his face between his knees. "Fucking stop. You can't- you can't keep me like this."

His hand reached for his wrist.

"You can't keep me like this!"

Nails dug into his skin.

"You can't keep fucking up my life, and fucking up my one chance to have something good."

He started to scratch.

"Get out of my head, get out of my life! I never wanted you, I never needed you, I-I hate you!"

His fingernails were dotted with blood. It smeared along his skin. Hot, shameful, burning.

"I'm not wrong!"

He scratched faster.

"Nothing about me is wrong!"

He curled up tighter.

He shoved himself further into the wall.

He froze.

He lifted his head.

He made eye contact with Tenna.

Tenna stared at him, his screen dim. His gaze shifted. Spamton shoved his wrist behind his back, but winced as it brushed against his shirt.

Tenna walked up to him slowly, carefully. Spamton trembled as he knelt down. "What happened today?" he asked softly.

Spamton wanted to sob. He was being so fucking selfish. Why didn't Tenna just turn and walk away? Get the distance that he needed? Get the space he wanted? Why did he always have to be so caring? So attentive? He ripped his gaze away, deciding to stare down at the floor. "Nothing."

"Spams." He said his name gently, but firmly. He didn't reach, didn't touch, but Spamton felt a burning hot hand on his forearm.

He hesitated, then his body slumped forward. "Orange came to see me."

Tenna didn't react, except with a nod, telling him to continue.

"H-he tried to..." He shuddered. "Tell me things." He turned away from Tenna. "Should have seen me, Tenna," he gave a small, bitter laugh. "Shouted at him for the first time in my life."

"Yeah? That's good," Tenna hummed. "I'm proud of you, Spams. That's a huge step forward."

"I don't know what I would have done if it was Pink," his voice broke. He started to tremble. "Pink always... I can't stop myself from listening. He grabs me a-and holds me, and makes me listen, and I can't-" He shuddered, curling into a tight ball as he wrapped his arms around himself. "His voice was always so calm when he spoke to me. His hands... they held me like I was made of cloth."

"I'm sorry, Spams," Tenna whispered. "I don't know if it means much, but I'm so sorry for how they treated you. You're a person. They never should have even thought about mistreating you."

Spamton's eyes found the floor, zoning out for a moment. He shrugged. "Can't reason with insanity."

They fell into silence.

Tenna's gaze shifted to his wrist. He pursed his lips a little, wanting to speak, but he couldn't find the strength. He scooted forward, and Spamton instinctively flinched, but settled with a muttered apology.

"Don't apologize, Spams. I'm sorry for moving so suddenly," Tenna said softly as he reached into the cabinet under the sink. He brought out the first aid kit, then set it between them. "Do you want me to bandage it, or you?"

Spamton averted his gaze, then slowly showed his arm to Tenna, a silent answer. Tenna carefully grasped onto his hand, then sat closer to him, the kit in his lap. He cleaned the wound first with an alcohol wipe, and Spamton winced. Tenna leaned forward and kissed his forehead as an apology. Then, he continued to work. He spread some ointment over it, then placed a bandage over it and smoothed it down. He placed a feather-light kiss to the top, and Spamton wanted to burst into tears.

He sighed as soon as it was covered, then slowly let his legs lie flat along the ground. Tenna shifted to give him space if he wanted it, but Spamton scooted towards him. He wedged himself between his arms, leaning the side of his face into his chest. He listened for his heartbeat. He relaxed once he found it. "Thank you, Tenna."

"Of course, Spams," Tenna kissed the top of his head, his hands stroking circles onto his shoulders. "How are you feeling?"

Spamton snorted at the question. "Like shit, Tenna. Like shit." He gave an empty chuckle, then sniffled. "You wanted space. I fucked that up."

"Hey, I offered for you to come over. That isn't your fault," Tenna muttered. "Besides, I'm not good at staying away from the things I love. And, you need me right now. It's bad timing."

Spamton nodded a little. "Really bad timing." He laughed softly. "I'll go home tomorrow. I'll be okay. And, we'll just see each other after work?"

Tenna nodded. "I have to drive you, though. You left your car at the studio."

Spamton blinked. "Oh yeah. I did, didn't I?" He grinned. "Oh no. What a tragedy."

Tenna would have rolled his eyes if he had any. "I'll make breakfast in the morning."

"What? Can't handle any more burnt pancakes?" he clipped back, but with no malice behind it.

"It still smells terrible in the kitchen, I don't know how you did it," Tenna said with a laugh. He held him close to his chest, safe and secure within his big, warm arms. He held him like he was scared to let go, and frankly, he was.

Every time he thought Spamton was doing better, something else would come along to tear him down.

Tenna felt horrible. His gut twisted in all sorts of guilt and agony. He didn't want to leave him alone. He would feel like shit if he left him alone and something happened. He already did feel like shit, for sleeping so soundly while Spamton was in the midst of another episode. He'd awoken when he'd heard a loud voice, and for a moment, he'd been afraid that someone had broken in. But, when Spamton wasn't beside him, Tenna realized.

The look on his face as their eyes locked would be ingrained in his memory for a long time.

Spamton needed the distance just as much as Tenna did. If they became too reliant on each other, which they already were to a point, things would only get worse.

"I told you, Tenna, I'm a shit cook," Spamton grinned cheekily.

Tenna huffed out an amused breath. "We'll make a chef out of you yet. I'll sit you down, you'll watch all my cooking segments."

Spamton rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say, big guy." Then, he leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to Tenna's lips.

Tenna kissed him back, his hands holding him by the back of his head, tilting it up into him. They stayed that way for a short while, lips close but not connected, simply relishing the soft moment between them.

Tenna's body started to ache again. Sitting on the floor was not good for his knees. He sighed, then he started to stand. He scooped Spamton up into his arms, with a small noise of protest from him. But, he settled within a moment. Tenna kissed his forehead, then carried him back to bed. Spamton laid down with a content exhale, then held the covers up for Tenna, who wasn't too far behind.

They curled around each other, careful, but protective. Tenna cradled Spamton like he was precious and delicate. Spamton clutched onto the front of Tenna's shirt, tight and desperate. The silence between them stretched for a long while, neither of them certain if they should speak up, or just go to sleep.

Spamton opened his mouth, and spoke quietly, apprehensively. "I'm sorry, Tenna."

Tenna just shook his head. "Nothing to apologize for," he mumbled. "Go to sleep, love. We'll deal with it in the morning." Then, he kissed the top of his head. "I love you."

Spamton bit back a sob. "I love you, Tenna."

Chapter Text

"Ladies and gentlemen, and all those in between!" Spamton announced to the crowd, waving his hand through the air with a wide grin on his face. "Tonight, we have a very special surprise for you! Something new, something that's never been done!"

The crowd cheered and screamed as Spamton walked the stage, blowing kisses and flashing devilish grins. They watched as Spamton made his way to the side of the stage, where he grasped onto a rope and tugged.

A curtain rose, and behind it stood a very confused Pink, who glared around at each and everybody around him. He stood with his shoulders hunched, somehow magically dressed in a pair of loose shorts, boxing gloves hanging around his neck. "What the fuck, White!" he hissed from between his teeth. "You said this was a talk show segment!"

"Oh, you'll be talking," Spamton grinned at him. "But, not with words." He waved to the crowd. "Everybody, say hello to my brother! Remember that live event a while ago? The one that was ruined?"

The crowd started to boo and throw things on stage towards Pink. Rotten tomatoes, dead roses, and whatever garbage they had in their pockets.

"Well, he's the one who ruined it!" Spamton picked up a tomato and hurled it into Pink's face, who shrieked and tried to block. It splattered across his arms, juicing running down, dripping into a shameful puddle at his feet. "Why don't we tell him how we feel about that?"

The crowd booed even more, and even went as far as to shout expletives at him. Which Spamton encouraged by waving his arm as if he was conducting the rage.

"What is going on, White?! Why am I dressed like- like a boxer? What the hell are you playing at?" Pink demanded, and he started to stalk towards Spamton. But, a Zapper stepped in front of him, blocking his path.

"Well, Pink," Spamton said coolly. "My man doesn't take too kindly to people insulting me or him. So." He shrugged. "He's fighting you about it."

"Your ma-" Pink broke off, and his entire face shaded pale. "What."

"Mike! Raise the curtain, would you?" Spamton shouted up to the light booth. A moment later, the curtain behind them rose.

The crowd went insane as Tenna stepped forward, hands in the air, boxing gloves already affixed. His shorts hung low on his hips, exposing a skin-tight pair of spandex, a shirt nowhere in sight. Spamton grinned wildly as he took in the sight. His metal panels were freshly polished, the light reflecting off his muscles, ever so slightly blinding him. What a sight to behold, truly.

Behind Tenna was a boxing arena, with velvet ropes as the barricades, sturdy metal pillars as the corners. The crowd cheered as the Zapper in front of Pink started to usher him backwards.

"White- White- hey! We can work this out!" Pink shouted as he was forced backwards, then picked up by the scruff of his neck and tossed into the arena. He landed with a loud thud and a yell. "You know I just- I was trying to keep you-"

"Save it," Spamton sneered. "No one here cares, Pink. Now, put on your gloves, and fight. Or are you too chicken?"

"Chicken! Chicken!" The crowd chanted as they screeched chicken clucks at him, laughing and pointing and belittling all the while.

Pink huffed angrily, his face still pale. He trembled as he fixed the gloves to his hands. He stood in one corner of the ring, where there was a Pippins standing there, a rag and water bottle in hand. But, no sense of remorse or sympathy. Just a neutral expression, bordering on annoyance. Pink grasped the towel and wiped his already damp forehead, then made a pitiful sound as Tenna entered the ring.

Spamton took his place in Tenna's corner, a rag and water bottle nearby as well. He kept the microphone nearby, just in case he needed it. But, he wasn't the referee. A Shadowguy dressed in a black and white striped shirt took the center of the ring. It Gestured for both fighters to step forward. Tenna quickly faced Spamton, catching him by the waist and pulling him in close. He captured his lips in a firm, passionate kiss, and the entire audience swooned. Spamton's face shaded a bright red as he made a noise of surprise, but melted into it anyway.

Pink averted his gaze, instead clutching his water bottle with shaking hands. He chugged some, then started to walk towards the center of the ring.

"Wish me luck out there," Tenna whispered against Spamton's lips.

Spamton snorted. "Against him, Tenna? You'd win even if you were blind and half-asleep." But, he kissed him again nonetheless. "Good luck, love."

Tenna grinned, then made his way to the center of the ring. The ref stood between him and Pink, then started to play his saxophone, probably explaining the rules. But, no one understood. It didn't matter, though. The only rule that mattered was hit hard and hit fast.

On the other side of the ring, Elnina and Lanino took their places, microphones in hand. "Alright, folks, looks like we're about to begin!" Lanino said. "Good, clean match, fellas. Or, not."

"Ready? Fight!"

A whistle blew, and Pink was caught off guard. He barely managed to duck as Tenna's fist swung towards his head. He shrieked and darted around him, skirting the edges of the ring as he did so.

"Looks like Pink is in way over his head already!" Elnina chortled from her perch next to Lanino.

"You're so right, my dew drop," Lanino agreed. "Well, what are you able to do against someone like Mr. Tenna? Just look at that size difference! Mr. Tenna's not even at his full height! I would run too, if I were him."

Tenna whipped around, then he drew his fist back. He hopped on the tips of his toes, then he aimed. His fist connected with the side of Pink's face.

"Yowch!" Elnina gasped out. "That was a solid hit there, my sunshine! I wonder how Pink's gonna recover from that!"

Despite there being a glove between them, Tenna could still feel, and hear, something crack. Pink let out a shout of pain, and with tears in his eyes, he ducked. He tried to use his size to his advantage, darting between Tenna's legs and around him. But, his attempt at confusing and confounding was lackluster, to say the least. He tired himself out relatively soon, his cheek already dark and swelling. Tenna grinned, then took another swing. This one collided with the side of his head, right above his ear.

Pink crumpled to the floor in a heap, crying out as pain blossomed in his head and face. Tenna scowled, then grabbed him by the arm. "Up."

Pink tried to shake him off, but Tenna yanked him up to his feet.

"We just got started," he sneered. "Don't tell me you're giving up already."

Pink glared daggers at him, then landed a firm punch square in the center of Tenna's face. Something akin to oil seeped from his nose, and Tenna touched at it with the back of his hand. He grinned. "Nice."

Pink took another swing, a look of confidence passing across his face.

"Uh oh, Pink's getting a bit fired up! Wonder if he's able to keep up!" Lanino commented.

"Mr. Tenna's big, but he's agile too! I highly doubt Pink will do that much damage, even if he does manage a hit!" Elnina said.

Tenna dodged, but Pink was slowly chasing him to the edges of the ring. He struck the side of Tenna's face with a triumphant huff.

"Whoa! Another hit is made! How will Mr. Tenna react?" Elnina screeched.

"FUCK HIM UP, TENNA!" Spamton cheered from the sidelines, a wide grin on his face. "BEAT HIS ASS!"

Pink's confidence was short-lived, however, when Tenna pulled his arm back and landed a firm punch square in the center of his stomach. Pink let out a strangled gasp as he collapsed to the ground, shaking again.

"And he's down!" Lanino shouted.

The Shadowguy ref knelt beside Pink, tooting once, twice, and about to play one final note to signify the end, when Pink started to stand again.

"He's back up? Who could withstand a blow like that from Mr. Tenna?" Elnina gasped.

"He must be insane!" Lanino agreed.

Pink dragged himself to his feet, and Tenna hung back, allowing him to do so. He wiped the blood dripping from his nose, then faced Tenna with a scowl. "You're a bastard, you know that? Taking my brother from our family, telling him lies."

"What lies?" Tenna took a menacing step forward, and Pink barely managed to stumble back. His balance wobbled, but he planted one foot forward, firm on the ground. "Only thing I'm telling him is how he deserves love. How he deserves kindness. How you never gave that to him."

"You could never understand," Pink sneered. "The world despised him. Our own parents despised him. He never would have been safe if it weren't for us. We loved him. We still love him."

"Bullshit," Tenna spat on the ground, saliva mixed with oil. He readied his fists. "He was nothing but a vessel for you to let out your frustrations. Well, not anymore. He's mine now, you hear?" He took a careful step towards him, almost as if he were circling him. "Spamton. Is. Mine."

He swung hard, and he swung fast. Pink barely had time to dodge, but Tenna's fist clipped along his cheek. A thin line of pain blossomed, and he stumbled back. He regained his footing, and was about to take a swing of his own, when Tenna's foot locked with his ankle. He was sent careening to the ground, smacking the back of his head against the floor with a harsh thud.

Tenna loomed over him, pressing his foot into the center of his chest, putting some of his weight onto it. Pink wheezed and coughed, his hands weakly smacking against Tenna's ankle, trying to push him off. But, Tenna only pushed down harder. "You're never to go near him again," Tenna said firmly. "You and your brothers are to never even think about going near Spamton."

Pink hacked up some more blood, spitting it out onto the mat with a heave. He forced a nod, then gasped as Tenna's foot left his chest. He rolled over onto his stomach, trembling as he struggled to catch his breath. He coughed some more, then brought himself to his knees. He sent a glare to Tenna. "This isn't over."

"It's over," Tenna snatched him by the bottom half of his face, forcing eye contact. "It's over."

He shoved Pink back down, then he started to walk away. He threw his hands up into the air, and the crowd went ballistic. Screaming, cheering, chanting his name.

"We have a winner!" Elnina announced with a cheerful grin.

Pink glared at Tenna, then shook off a Pippins who tried to give him a water bottle. Instead of handing it to them, the Pippins threw it, and it struck the side of his head. He let out a frustrated grunt, then he stormed out of the ring.

Meanwhile, Spamton ducked under the ropes and leapt into Tenna's arms. He laughed as Tenna picked him up and swung him around. He peppered his face with kisses, relishing the subsequent giggles and blush.

"Tenna, you did so well," Spamton said, his hands finding and caressing Tenna's cheeks. "Is your nose okay? I've never seen you bleed before."

"I'm fine, Spams. Although," he grinned. "Wouldn't mind if you took a closer look. Help bandage me up, too?"

Spamton's eyes twinkled. "Keep the outfit on, Tenna."

Tenna chuckled, then carried him off stage, capturing his lips in multiple passionate kisses.

"Uh, well, looks like our hosts will be doing some clean up right now!" Lanino said nervously, with a strained smile on his face. He turned his attention to his headset. "Uh... Mike, Mike, set up a rerun, they're not coming back. Mike? You there?"

The curtain dropped.

And Spamton woke up.

Sunlight poured in through the cracks between the curtains, casting a soft golden glow across the bedroom. Spamton groaned and put a hand to his head. He already had a headache. He went to stand from the bed when a hand grasped onto his wrist. He turned, and Tenna, still asleep, was reaching for him, his face scrunched up.

Spamton gave a small sigh, then laid back down and kissed Tenna's forehead. He fit himself between his arms and relaxed. He could wait a little longer before getting up. He didn't have anything going on that day.

So, maybe he would skip work.

He shivered at the idea of another one of his brothers harassing him at his office.

He also didn't want to be cooped up all day, anxious and waiting for the clock to strike six.

It was settled. He would go out on his own. Maybe to that same hiking trail Tenna had brought him to a few times. He could use some fresh air and quiet time.

But, in the meantime, he stayed right where he was, right where he always wanted to be. Fitted snug between Tenna's arms, wrapping in nothing but warmth and comfort and love.

The memory of the dream made him grin a little.

Although, if Tenna really did start beating the shit out of Pink, Spamton wouldn't be able to watch. A part of him ached at the idea, as well as a twinge of sadness and a hint of fear.

Besides, he never wanted Tenna to go near Pink anymore. He didn't know what would happen if they met face-to-face. Tenna grimaced every single time Spamton mentioned anything about him, his hands curling into fists, his gaze hardening, and his body stiffening. He knew it wouldn't end well, and Spamton would have to reap the consequences.

He let out a small sigh and leaned more into Tenna, trying not to think about the bad. But, it was all he could think of. His stomach twisted into a knot at the thought of leaving. He still wanted to burst into tears.

He had to be strong. Be confident. Be assertive. Take control of his emotions. He couldn't let himself be dependent. He couldn't let his love for Tenna bring him down.

Spamton breathed deeply, steeling the fluttering nerves that made him want to squirm uncomfortably. He closed his eyes gently, and focused on the way Tenna's heart beat slowly, carefully, evenly against his skin, the way his hands tightened and loosened with every calculated breath. Tenna made a small noise, then he sucked in a breath and started to shift. Spamton turned to face him as he woke up, giving him a chaste kiss on the lips as his screen brightened.

"Morning, Tenna," he mumbled.

Tenna hummed, then kissed him again, his hands holding him by the waist, keeping him close. "Morning, love." He pressed his face into Spamton's hair and inhaled, a small smile creeping onto his face. "You smell nice."

Spamton snorted. "Thanks?"

Tenna chuckled and carded his fingers through his hair. "How'd you sleep?"

"Fine. Had a weird dream though," he said.

"Mhm? Tell me about it," he muttered, his hands untangling all of the knots in Spamton's hair. It was soothing, and Spamton leaned into the touch.

"It was a game show night, I think. Or, maybe a talk show night that turned into a game night? Either way, the physical challenge was a boxing match." He started to grin a little. "Between you and... and Pink."

Tenna's hands halted. He started to laugh. "I beat his ass real good, didn't I?"

"Hell yeah you did," Spamton tilted his head to capture Tenna's lips in a kiss. "He didn't stand a chance."

Tenna smiled and returned to brushing his hair with his fingers. "Anything else?"

Spamton shook his head. "Nah. Just you beating the pulp outta him. Sent him crying."

Tenna snorted. "And I'd do it again," he said. A flicker of anger passed across his face, but it was gone before Spamton even noticed. He let out a sigh, then buried his face into Spamton's hair. "Are you hungry?"

Spamton shrugged. "A little." He pouted. "I don't want to get up yet."

Tenna kissed the top of his head. "We can spend a little time together before we leave. Want to get you fed, though."

Spamton groaned with an exasperated, "Fiiiiiiine." He started to get up, and winced at the pain in his wrist. He checked the bandage, and he could see little spots of blood seeping through. He grimaced, then started to walk towards the bathroom. He slowly, painfully peeled the bandage off with a small exhale, then he turned on the water.

Tenna came up behind him, then cast a glance down. "How are you feeling?" he whispered.

Spamton averted his gaze, then started to rinse the wound. "Still like shit," he mumbled. "I feel bad, Tenna. I just... I ruined-"

"Quit that," Tenna said, with a sudden degree of sharpness that he didn't intend. Spamton glanced up at him, eyes wide, but not in fear, just surprise. "You didn't ruin anything at all, love. You're not to blame."

"I just-" Spamton started.

"You're working through things," he said as he crouched and took his hands gently. "You're not going to be magically better at the flick of a switch, love. You can't force it. It just happens."

Spamton's eyes welled up with tears, and he sniffled a little. He opened his mouth to speak, but words failed him. He bit back a cry as he buried his face into Tenna's chest again. Tenna held him close, secure, lovingly. He kissed the top of his head as he carded his fingers through his hair. "Do you want me to bandage it again?" he asked after a few long, comfortable moments. Spamton nodded wordlessly.

Tenna grabbed the first aid kit from the cabinet, then started to work on Spamton's wound. As soon as he was finished, he placed a feather-light kiss to the bandage, which always made Spamton smile, at least a little. Then, he kissed his forehead. "You will be okay, love. May not be today, may not be tomorrow. But you will be okay."

Spamton nodded, then wiped away the tears from the corners of his eyes. "I'm hungry," he muttered.

Tenna chuckled. "I'll make breakfast."

The rest of the morning passed too quickly. Tenna made them a heart breakfast of bacon, eggs, toast, and sliced fruits. They ate side-by-side, their hands intertwined, unwilling to let each other go just yet.

While Spamton washed the dishes, Tenna packed him a lunch. A sandwich, some chips, more fruits, and a cute little note that he told Spamton to read once he was hungry. That made him smile, and the subsequent kiss made him smile even more.

They got dressed, Tenna in his suit, and Spamton in a pair of comfortable shorts and a t-shirt. He stole one of Tenna's sweaters, which earned him a soft smile and a gentle kiss. It was way too large for him, practically a dress, reaching down to just below the hems of his shorts, a little way above his knees. But, he didn't care. He rolled the sleeves a bit so he could actually use his hands, then melted into the warmth and scent of him.

It was calming, grounding, and felt like a warm hug. He sighed happily, and was less reluctant to hop into the car now that he had it.

They drove to the studio, their hands clasped together in the center console. Spamton fidgeted more the closer they got to the studio, but Tenna squeezed his hand a few times, just to let him know that everything was okay. Spamton relaxed, but only a little.

When they reached the studio, Spamton's face fell. He inhaled a deep breath, then exited the car. Tenna wasn't too far behind. He grabbed his briefcase, then crossed over to Spamton and opened his arms wide. Spamton fell in instantly, taking in the last bits of affection with a tight frown on his face. When they pulled away, Tenna held his chin with his thumb and forefinger. He guided their lips close, then whispered, "Can I kiss you, Spams?"

"Stop asking and just do it," he answered. But, he had to admit, hearing Tenna ask for permission always made butterflies flutter in his stomach.

Their lips pressed together gently, and Tenna's hand cupped the side of Spamton's face, stroking his cheek. Spamton held onto his wrist, pushing upwards, not wanting to part just yet.

It lasted for a few, long, perfect moments. Spamton retracted before he let himself get carried away. Tenna held onto his face for a little longer, relishing the eye contact that was so easily given. He kissed his forehead. "I'll see you around six, love," he said softly. "Reading?"

Spamton nodded. "I'll take some good pictures to show you, too."

After another second of silence, Tenna spoke up, his tone confident and assured, not caring who could possibly hear them. "I love you, Spammy."

Spamton blushed, but he never once broke eye contact. His voice was a little quieter, but not any less assured. "I love you, Tenna."

Then, they parted ways. Their hands lingered for a little too long, lips drawn up into tight frowns. Spamton pulled his hand away and whipped around, forcing himself into his own car before he launched himself into Tenna's arms and never left.

He drove out of the parking lot and onto the highway.

The car was silent as he drove. He didn't have the energy to sift through the music options on the radio. He hummed to himself, though, one of the songs that Tenna liked. It was a jazz song, low and smooth, lovely. He would have to invest in jazz CDs, it was a very catchy genre.

He arrived at the hiking trail after about half an hour. He parked his car and got out, holding a hand up to shield his eyes from the bright rays of sun peeking from behind the mountains. He grabbed his backpack, filled with a water bottle, the lunchbox, and some extra clothes in case he decided to take a dip in the glorified pond. He fixed his camera around his neck and adjusted the strap. Once he was sure it was secure, he started up the trail with a pep in his step.

The fresh air eased through him like gentle waves, each breath helped him relax. The wind rustled through his hair, undoing all of the work Tenna had done in the morning.

"Oh no," Spamton muttered to himself. "Tenna will have to brush my hair again." He grinned, then continued to walk.

Birds chirped and fluttered around him, hopping from branch to branch. Their little heads tilted at the sight of him, almost studying him, before they flew away again.

He stopped by some bushes to pick a few flowers. They were small and purple, their stems snapping from the subtlest movement. Spamton picked a larger one, then tucked it behind his ear. He smiled softly, then continued to walk.

He caught sight of the mountains through a break in the treeline. He picked up his camera, then raised it to his eye. He aimed it towards the mountains, and when the moment was just right, as the sun sent glittering shimmers along the side of it, bouncing off the distant snow, he clicked the button a few times. He shifted his camera down, then started to look through the photos. He nodded in approval, then he continued to walk.

He took various other pictures as well. Whenever something caught his eye, he would snap a few.

A bird digging for a worm. Bees buzzing around a flower. The sun casting emerald green light through the leaves. He continued to walk.

Then, he reached the waterfall. He found the same rock he'd sat on before, then crossed his legs and watched.

The waterfall was loud as it splashed into the lake below, foamy at the base, ripples being sent in all directions. The sun glinted off the surface of the lake, shining into his eyes, but he didn't mind. He was enthralled by the beauty of it, of the aqua blues mixing with the forest greens. Tiny fish darted through the shallow bits, swimming between gaps in the rocks and pebbles. Spamton set his things on the floor at the base of the rock, then took his socks and shoes off. He walked a few steps into the water, so it was just above his ankles.

Then, he stood.

The water lapped at his skin, cold and refreshing, a relief from the warm sun above. Spamton closed his eyes, relishing the peaceful atmosphere.

For once, his mind was silent, no doubt enjoying the nature around him as well. It was almost jarring how quiet his brain was. Normally, his thoughts were constant, never ending, exhausting.

But, all that mattered right then was the water, the birds, the fish, the rocks, the sun.

Spamton stood until his knees started to ache.

At which point, he picked up his camera, and started to take pictures of the water. He knelt down and caught a surface shot, where he could see under the water, as well as the reflection of the waterfall. He walked around the edge of the lake, taking close-up pictures of the waterfall from a few different angles. He retreated to the rock and sat, then scrolled through the photos with a smile.

He checked the time. It had been a few hours, and he was starting to get hungry. So, he grabbed the lunchbox, then set his camera on top of the backpack, making sure it wouldn't fall. He opened up the lunchbox and eagerly snatched the note inside.

In Tenna's neat scrawl, it read,

Spammy,

You are stronger than you know, braver than you think, and worthy of all the love I give. Nothing about you is wrong. Nothing about you is bad. You are everything I want, everything I need, and there isn't a single part of me that doesn't feel anything but love and respect for you. I love you. I'll say it, write it, scream it, sing it, spell it, draw it, show it as many times as you want. As many times as you need. I love you.

Yours,

Tenna

Spamton blinked. A tear fell onto the page as he started to sniffle. He set the lunchbox aside, then hugged the paper tightly to his chest.

He let himself cry.

Out of love, out of frustration, out of pain, out of fear.

He cried for a while. He didn't know how long. Minutes, hours. He cried until his face grew sore, until his eyes were rubbed raw, until the overwhelming urge to sob passed.

He hiccuped as he folded the note and stuffed it into the pocket. He held a hand to his chest, clutching the fabric resting above his racing heart. He heaved, and used his other hand to wipe his face from the tears. It got soaked, but the warm sunlight started to dry it off rather quickly.

Spamton picked up the lunchbox and started to eat what was packed. He wanted to cry again. Tenna had made his favorite kind of sandwich, one that he'd off-handedly mentioned weeks, maybe even months ago. As well as the chips he liked, and sliced strawberries, dappled with sugar.

Spamton wanted to sob all over again.

He ate with tears in his eyes.

Once he was finished, he wiped his hands on his pants. Then, he read through the note again, with a wide, happy smile on his face. He read through it over and over, tracing his fingers along the letters, whispering it out loud, responding to the words with a soft, "I love you, Tenna."

He glanced up at the sky. The sun was on the opposite end of the clearing, although not close to setting yet. Spamton checked the time. It was a little past five. He wanted to go home and shower before meeting with Tenna, he was sweaty and stinky. He would be there a bit later than six, but he would call and tell him so he didn't worry.

Spamton packed up his things and headed back down the trail. He didn't stop to take any pictures, since he was already falling behind on his schedule. He was getting a little anxious, and he hurried to the car. He drove home, getting there at around five forty. He pursed his lips, the anxiety creeping up even more.

He tossed his things onto the table and raced to take the quickest shower known to man. He washed his hair with a speed never before seen, then rinsed himself down. He scrambled to scrub his body clean of sweat and grime, then rinsed again. He leapt out of the shower, toweled off, and threw on some comfy clothes before leaving the bathroom. He grinned as he bounded into the foyer, grabbing onto his keys and such with a hum of satisfaction. It was a little past five fifty, and it didn't take long to drive to the studio. Spamton would be on time!

He opened the front door and was about to step outside when he stopped.

He stared.

He started to tremble.

"Hi, White," Pink said smoothly. "Going somewhere?"

Chapter Text

Spamton's breath caught in his throat. He stumbled backwards, dropping his keys to the floor with a sound that pierced his ears. He moved to slam the door, but Pink's hand shot inside and blocked it. He pushed it open, then stepped inside the house and calmly closed it behind him.

"Let's talk." He started walking to the dining table, and he took a seat. 

Spamton was frozen. 

He felt like he couldn't breathe. 

He couldn't breathe.

"White. Come here."

His legs moved before his mind could catch up. He sat next to Pink and tilted his head down, staring at the table.

"Why did you shout at Orange?" he asked quietly, his hand coming up to wrap around Spamton's shoulders. He pulled him close to his chest, tucking his head under his chin. He kissed the top of his head and carded his fingers through his hair, humming.

When Spamton didn't answer, Pink's fingers dug into his scalp. 

Spamton flinched. His mouth dropped open, but he couldn't speak. He tried so hard, forcing himself, straining his throat, but he couldn't speak. He shoved his face into Pink's chest, his entire body trembling as he held onto him like a lifeline.

"He came to me afterwards, so upset, that you snapped at him. He was so close to crying. I want to know why. You can tell me." He dropped the harsh grip and kissed his forehead. He cradled him as he shook.

Spamton's eyes were wide, brimming with hot tears. He sank into his arms. He raised his hand to start miming for a pen and paper, but then he froze. Terror filled his mind. He tried to speak again, but the words caught in his throat. He tried to drop his hands, pretend like he wasn't doing anything meaningful. 

But, it was too late.

"What's that?" Pink muttered. "You want something to write with? Why can't you speak? Speak to me, White."

Spamton couldn't even break into a sob.

In a sudden display of anger, Pink shoved him forward, whipped him around, and snatched the bottom half of his face. "SPEAK."

Words bubbled up in the back of his throat, and they spilled out in garbled nonsense. "H-he j-just ca-came a-and- and I-"

"Speak clearly, White. You're pissing me off," he sneered, holding his face even tighter, his nails digging painfully into his skin.

Spamton's hands raised, and he tried to push him away, but Pink smacked him firm across the cheek. Spamton slumped forward.

The pain was covered with a gentle kiss. "Did he make you angry, White? Did he say something that made you mad?" His voice was dripping with condescension. "Something about your... how would you call him? That TV host of yours."

Spamton whimpered.

"You really think he cares for you?"

Spamton's head tilted downwards.

"Oh, White. My sweet boy," Pink cooed in his ear. "He's using you."

"No, he's not," Spamton's voice cracked terribly as a tear slipped from his eye.

Pink kissed the top of his head. "Yes, he is. Stop arguing."

Spamton tensed, more words wanting to make themselves known.

He wanted to yell, scream, to break free and run to the safety of Tenna's arms.

Pink held him too tightly. He patted his cheek. "Listen to me."

Spamton listened.

"I'm doing what's best for you. Orange is doing what's best for you. Why don't you come home for a few days? We'll take some time to reconnect as a family." He smiled down at him and held him close to his chest. Spamton felt his heartbeat pressed up against his ear. Slow and even, contrary to Spamton's racing beats, unsteady and rapid, almost debilitating.

"We'll leave now, go home, and we'll be a real family again. We'll let you in on the business, White! We can combine your shoddy attempt at a car dealership with our company, and we'll help you soar above everyone else. Isn't that what you always wanted? The best?" Pink sighed happily at the idea. "You'll be so happy. You won't even have to lift a finger. Just leave it to me, I'll take all the pain and stress away from you, White."

Spamton trembled. He didn't respond.

Pink started to stand. "Come home, White."

Spamton's mouth opened, then clamped shut. He shuddered and turned his head away, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Come home. I'm not asking you," Pink's voice turned sour, and he snatched him by the arm. He yanked him from his seat, his grip tighter than it ever had been before. Spamton cried out in pain and tried to pry his fingers off, but Pink's other hand came around and smacked him across the face again. "Stop fighting. You're always making things so difficult! Why couldn't you be normal, White?"

Spamton yelped as Pink swung his arm around and sent him crumbling to the floor in a messy heap, tears streaming down his face. He shook as he turned to sit, and he started to scramble backwards, nonsensical words and pleas spilling from his trembling lips.

Pink stalked after him, a firm glare in his eyes. "You had to go and ruin everything. Our parents' marriage, our lives, our jobs. You left us broken. Everything you've done since the moment you were born broke us. And yet, we love you." He crouched to his knees and reached forward, both hands cupping his cheeks. "So stop. Fighting." He dug his nails into the soft parts of his cheeks, and Spamton started to scream. His nails broke skin, and blood seeped from the small pinpricks.

Spamton's arm instinctively flew out and hit against Pink's shoulder. But, it was weak, and his arm flopped uselessly back to his side. Pink almost laughed.

"Sweet, sweet boy," he murmured. "You're only making this more painful for yourself." He squeezed his face tighter, and Spamton struggled harder against him. His leg lifted and pushed Pink's chest. He faltered a little, but his ankle was grabbed and yanked.

Spamton let out a shriek as his head collided with the ground. His vision went blank for a few seconds, dark fog and stars were all he could see. He felt hands on his face again, gently wiping away the blood staining his cheeks.

"Is it that you want us to do things differently? Will that make you come home?" Pink asked. He pulled Spamton up by the front of his sweater. He was still wearing Tenna's. Pink suddenly took notice of it, evident by a thoughtful hum. "Oh. So, you're more involved now, are you?"

His hand went to retract when he noticed an odd lump in Spamton's pocket. He reached his hand inside, and Spamton's blood ran cold. He found strength for the first time, and he shoved himself away from Pink, but it was too late.

The note was in his hand.

Pink read it. Every single word.

He laughed.

Threw his head back and laughed.

Spamton's throat clenched as more sobs wracked his body. He scooted back further, but Pink stood and walked after him, snatching him by the hair on the top of his head. Spamton cried out, his hand reached for the note, muttering something that vaguely sounded like, "Please, don't touch it. Don't touch it!"

Pink's hands tightened in his hair. "He writes you love letters, does he? Just how far does the joke go, 'Spammy'?"

The name sounded like acid coming from his mouth. Spamton latched onto his wrists, trying to pull the hands out of his hair, trying to push himself away, trying so desperately so escape.

Then, Pink dropped him.

Spamton lurched forward, frantic to snatch the letter out of his hand. Pink lifted a foot and kicked him square in the chest, knocking him onto his back, and the wind out of his lungs. He rolled onto his side, gasping and heaving. He felt vomit build up in the back of his throat. He tried to swallow it down, but he gagged, and he vomited onto the floor beneath him.

Pink sighed and shook his head. "White, you're too old for these playground games."

Then, he placed both hands on the note, right at the top. Spamton's eyes blew wide, and he started to rush towards him.

"No, no no no, don't!"

It was too late.

The paper ripped right in half. Pink tore it to shreds, the pieces scattering across the room, blown in every which way by unseen winds.

Spamton dove towards as many pieces as he could reach, collecting them in his sweaty, trembling hands. He tried to fit them back together.

It was pointless.

Pink stood behind him, kneeling, and rubbing his back. Spamton shuddered violently and tried to flinch away, but Pink held him firm by the shoulders.

"You're done with this. You're coming home."

"N-no," Spamton forced out. He started to rock, but that earned him a smack across the face.

Pink snatched his ear and leaned into it, yelling. "Stop being a freak!"

Spamton tried to cover his ear, but his hands were pinned together and trapped on the floor.

"Stop! Being! Difficult!" Pink shouted. He pulled his ear harshly, and Spamton cried out and struggled. "You're coming home! You're coming. Home."

"I don't want to!" he forced out.

Pink's hand shifted to the bottom half of his face again. He forced eye contact. Spamton squeezed his eyes shut, but Pink pried them open with both hands. He stared daggers into him, inching closer and closer until there was barely any space between.

"Say that again."

Spamton shook his head frantically. "I-I didn't mean it! I didn't mean it!"

"Say. It. Again." Pink's hands shifted to hold the sides of his face, and his nails dug into his cheeks once again, in the same spots as before. But, with more force this time. Spamton cried out, but Pink started to yell. "SAY IT AGAIN."

Spamton sobbed.

Pink dropped his face, then stood and shoved Spamton onto his back. He towered over him with a sneer. He lifted a foot, then pressed it to the middle of his chest. He slowly pushed down, and all the air was forced out of Spamton's lungs. "Say it again, and I'll stop."

Spamton tried to speak, but it only came out as breathless nonsense. So, Pink lifted his foot just a little. Spamton scrambled. "I-I don't wa-want to," he wailed. "I don't wanna go home!"

Pink fully retracted. "What do you want?"

Spamton rolled onto his side, squeezing his eyes shut as he whimpered. "I want Tenna." He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. He jolted upright. "No! I-I don't. I don't!"

Pink cooed softly, condescendingly. "No, you don't. So please, White. Just come home. I'm tired of asking."

Spamton sobbed. He buried his face in his hands as he started to rock back and forth, at almost an aggressive speed. He trembled and wailed, his cries muffled.

Pink sat next to him. "Sweet boy, I'll carry you to the car. You're exhausted." He gently grabbed his hands and brought them to his heart. Spamton fell into his arms, sobbing violently into his chest. "Doesn't this remind you of when you were little? So emotional all the time. Could barely take you anywhere. You just had meltdown after meltdown. But, do you remember what helped you feel better?"

Spamton couldn't answer.

"Car rides," Pink finished with a soft smile. "And you would point out all the other cars on the road. The colors, the models, the makes, the years. Do you want to do that again? We'll go for a nice drive to help you calm before we go home."

No. I want Tenna.

"Not with that again," Pink sighed.

Spamton's eyes went wide. But, there was no punishment for those words. 

Pink held him tighter to his chest. Spamton let out a shaky breath. He slowly brought him away, then started to wipe the thick streams of tears from his eyes. He kissed his forehead. "Come on. Hold on to me. I'll carry you."

Spamton's body slumped. Pink hoisted him up, wrapping his arms around his neck, and his legs around his waist. Spamton was like dead weight in his arms, heavy and unmoving. He hummed in his ear as he started to carry him to the front door, leaving everything behind. His keys, his wallet, his phone, his life.

He opened the door.

Then, he froze.

He backed up with a curse under his breath.

Spamton cracked an eye open, but he was too exhausted to look. He buried his face into Pink's shoulder, defeated, worn out, torn apart. 

His blood smeared onto Pink's face.

Then, Spamton was being moved. It wasn't Pink moving, it was his own body being physically moved. He was lifted into the air, then cradled in a set of very large arms.

Those arms stiffened, and Spamton scrunched his face up, another sob ripping from his throat.

"Please," he begged pathetically as he wrapped his shaking arms around the person's neck. He buried his face into their shoulder as he trembled weakly. "Stop hurting me."

He was clutched tighter. But, it didn't hurt. He wasn't restricted, he wasn't caged, he wasn't shackled.

This grip was familiar. Even as his mind was filled with thick fog and terror, he recognized these hands, these arms, these shoulders.

That face.

Spamton's eyes slowly cracked open.

Tenna's face was pitch black. Spamton could see his reflection. Pale, tear-stained, blood smeared across both cheeks.

Tenna's head slowly looked down at him. He pressed his screen to his forehead. Spamton couldn't feel any lips, but the kiss was all the same. It was gentle and soft, such a stark contrast to not even two minutes ago. Spamton bit back another sob.

Tenna spoke, his voice loud and rumbling. It shook the house, rattled Spamton's body, and waves that made Pink stumble in his stance.

"I don't even have the words to describe what I'm going to do to you," he hissed from between his teeth. "I warned you, I warned you, and yet you still-" He broke off with a shuddering inhale.

He couldn't keep his composure.

He started to yell. "HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO FUCKING SAY IT, PINK? DO I NEED TO BEAT IT INTO YOU?! DO I NEED TO BREAK YOUR FUCKING ARM SO YOU'LL LISTEN?! DO I NEED TO PUT OUT OF YOUR FUCKING MISERY?!"

Spamton trembled in his grasp, terrified by the sudden loud voice, and Tenna held him a little tighter, a little more secure. "I want to beat you black and fucking blue, you son of a bitch. There is only one thing stopping me right now."

Pink took a careful step back, his eyes trained on Tenna's face, searching for any possible plan for escape. He knew he couldn't do anything to him. There wasn't a single word or action that could shake a man who wouldn't ever fit under his thumb. It was pointless to even try.

But, Tenna was blocking the door. He couldn't even see it, Tenna's body was too huge. He grimaced. "You wouldn't," he sneered.

Tenna took a step closer. "You don't know a single thing of what I would or wouldn't do. But, I know what's going to happen. You are going to leave. You are never going to come here again, or send any of the others here again. If you do, I will beat you so bloody that they'll be cleaning you OUT OF THESE FLOORS FOR WEEKS!"

Pink's posture was shaken by the screams. His hands clenched into fists. He opened his mouth to speak, but Tenna cut him off.

"If the next word out of your mouth isn't 'okay,' and if you don't walk out that door right after, I will not be responsible for what happens next," he snapped. He took another step forward.

Pink tore his gaze away. "Okay," he said, gritting his teeth so hard that he could taste blood. "Okay."

Tenna stepped to the side.

Pink tried to take a glance at Spamton, but Tenna turned his whole body away, showing his back to him. Pink huffed, then slammed the door behind him. Tenna locked it.

Spamton quaked in his arms, sobs still making his body shudder. Every breath was painful, every shift was agony. His face hurt. His head hurt.

He slumped in Tenna's arms, weak, defeated, sluggish.

Tenna brought him to the couch, then sat down, still holding him in his lap.

Spamton's eyes drifted shut. But, he couldn't relax. He trembled. He tried to breathe, but it felt like burning fire every time he inhaled. His face drew up tightly, and he started to sob again.

Tenna held him through it all.

He didn't say a word.

What could he say? What could he possibly say to him?

It was impossible. This was something far beyond Tenna, something he would never be able to even begin to understand, let alone help. 

He cradled him. He rocked him back and forth.

He hummed to him, he sang to him. Soft melodies that he'd heard in his jazz songs. 

Songs of love, of devotion, of warmth, of light.

He sang until his voice went hoarse, until the words died off with a painful twang.

Until Spamton's sobs died down to soft hiccups, until his body stopped shaking, until his expression shifted into something neutral, if not almost peaceful.

Until he was soothed to sleep.

Chapter Text

It was around five forty when Tenna started to get worried.

Normally, Spamton was punctual, if not early in most cases. He was supposed to be barging through that door at any moment, showing off his pictures with a wide smile on his face. Tenna kept glancing from his paperwork to the door, expecting it to fling open.

But, it didn't.

Spamton wasn't working that day, he was hiking. So, maybe he got caught up in the scenery, or was taking his time driving over. He would be there any minute.

Then, five fifty rolled around.

No sign of Spamton, not even a call. He always tried to call if he was going to be late, but not all the time. Tenna knew that things slipped his mind, so he tried not to worry. It was impossible, though, when the anxiety in his gut screamed at him that something was horribly wrong.

Six o'clock, and still no Spamton. Tenna tried to call. It rang for what felt like ages. Nobody came to pick up.

Tenna's hands curled into fists as his leg started to fidget and bounce.

Six oh-one.

Six oh-two.

Six oh-three.

Something was wrong.

Tenna slammed his fist on the desk and shoved himself out of his seat. He snagged his coat, wallet, and keys, leaving everything else behind. He raced out of the studio, ignoring the people calling his name.

Static filled his mind as dread pooled in his stomach.

He drove to Spamton's house, flooring the gas pedal, going far too fast on the highway. It didn't matter. None of it mattered.

When he reached Spamton's house, he saw two cars in the driveway. His hands tightened around the wheel as he threw the car into park. He ripped the door open and rushed to the front of the house. He reached for the handle, but the door swung open before he could even take a single step forward.

Tenna's screen flickered before it faded to black.

Standing before him was Pink, with wide eyes and an outstretched hand, letting go of the door handle. He took a step back, fumbling a little, unbalanced, due to the body he carried in his arms. Spamton clung to him, hiding his face in his shoulder.

"Shit," Pink muttered under his breath. He turned, and Tenna saw a smear of blood on his cheek.

Without a word, Tenna stepped inside. He towered over Pink, raising to a height he'd never been before. Spamton's ceiling was barely able to contain all of him.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to let loose a fist that would knock Pink out cold. He wanted to strangle him until he turned blue. He wanted to rip him apart limb from limb.

His hands trembled. His entire body trembled. He took a firm step forward, and Pink tried to go backwards, but Tenna didn't let him. He reached his overly large hands out, and gently plucked Spamton from his arms. He held him tight and secure, cradling him like he was precious and fragile.

He got a better look at Pink's face. His eyes were wide, full of a terror that Tenna had only seen on Spamton. His face was pale, but stained with blood that wasn't his. His posture was unsteady, unsure, fearful. He curled and hunched like a defensive animal, his eyes narrowed up at him.

In his arms, Spamton started to sob and quiver. "Please," he begged, his face hiding itself in Tenna's shoulder. "Stop hurting me."

The static in Tenna's mind grew to become overwhelming. He felt dizzy and sick, like his knees could give out at any moment, like his lungs would explode.

He held him tighter.

Spamton's face slowly turned upwards, his eyes cracking open weakly. Tenna's heart shattered at the sight of him.

There were cuts on both of his cheeks, blood smeared along the red and bruised skin. His eyes were wide and bloodshot, his lips quivered as sobs ripped from his lungs. He was trembling, tears staining his face, the front of his sweater. Vomit clung to the corners of his lips.

He was in pain. So much pain.

Tenna leaned forward, pressing his screen gently to his forehead. A silent promise.

I will take care of this. You don't have to hurt anymore. I will make sure that you don't hurt anymore.

Spamton bit back a sob as he buried his face into his chest once again.

Tenna turned his attention to Pink, who was watching him like a hawk, his eyes darting to the side, clearly searching for a chance to escape.

Tenna wouldn't let him.

Tenna wouldn't let him.

He didn't get to walk free after what he'd done. After the pain he caused. After the torment, the trauma, the torture.

Rage bubbled up in Tenna's chest and spilled over as he planted one foot forward. Then, he started to speak. "I don't even have the words to describe what I'm going to do to you. I warned you, I warned you, and yet you still-" He broke off and took in a deep breath, trying so hard to compose himself before he lashed out and did something he would regret.

He couldn't.

He couldn't hold it any longer.

He raised his voice to a volume he'd never had to use before. He grew another foot taller as he started to yell. "HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO FUCKING SAY IT, PINK? DO I NEED TO BEAT IT INTO YOU?! DO I NEED TO BREAK YOUR FUCKING ARM SO YOU'LL LISTEN?! DO I NEED TO PUT OUT OF YOUR FUCKING MISERY?!"

Pink jumped back, startled, his eyes going even wider as he stumbled. He nearly fell to the floor at the terrifying presence, the rumbling shouts, the figure looming over him like a hurricane. He opened his mouth to speak, but he squeaked pathetically as Tenna took another thunderous step forward.

In his arms, Spamton shuddered and cried. Tenna cursed at himself. He'd scared him, he'd terrified him.

He lowered his voice, but only for Spamton's sake. "I want to beat you black and fucking blue, you son of a bitch. There is only one thing stopping me right now." He held Spamton tighter, shielding him a bit more. His hand cupped the back of his head, turning him so his ears were facing away from Tenna's mouth, hoping to protect him from at least some of the volume from his booming voice.

He watched as Pink contemplated for a moment, before his mouth opened and he hissed out, "You wouldn't."

Tenna almost laughed in his face. "You don't know a single thing of what I would or wouldn't do. But, I know what's going to happen. You are going to leave. You are never going to come here again, or send any of the others here again. If you do, I will beat you so bloody that they'll be cleaning you OUT OF THESE FLOORS FOR WEEKS!"

Spamton clung to him tighter, and Tenna mentally apologized profusely. But, he couldn't worry about that right now. Pink was still there, still trying to weasel his way out of this. He shook as his hands clenched into fists, and he opened his mouth to speak.

Tenna put a stop to it immediately, not wanting to hear anything else that this fucker had to say. "If the next word out of your mouth isn't 'okay,' and if you don't walk out that door right after, I will not be responsible for what happens next." He stepped closer. One arm held tighter on Spamton, the other dropped to his side, curling into a tight fist, ready to throw a punch if he needed to.

But, Pink exhaled. He turned his head away, his eyes full of apprehension, of defeat, of fear.

Good. Tenna's mind broke free of the incessant static for just a moment. Be afraid. Be fucking afraid.

"Okay," Pink's voice cracked a little as he spoke. He raised his hands in defeat. "Okay."

Tenna stepped to the side. Pink rushed past him, but tried to catch a glimpse of Spamton one last time. Tenna turned his body away, shielding him from view. Pink scoffed, then left, shutting the door behind him.

Tenna locked it.

Spamton's entire body shuddered as he slumped in his arms. Tenna's heart shattered. His breath caught in his throat as he held him tighter, his face close to his, their foreheads connected for just a moment.

"Spams," he whispered. "Can you hear me?"

Spamton's eyes screwed shut. He didn't respond.

Tenna kissed his forehead, then brought him to the couch.

He walked past the mess left behind in the center of the room.

Torn bits of paper, spatters of blood, vomit, scuff marks.

Tenna would clean it soon. After he stopped shaking. After Spamton stopped sobbing. After the world calmed, and he could think clearly, without the overwhelming static flooding his mind.

He sat on the couch, holding Spamton in his lap, safely tucked within his arms. Spamton was still wracked with sobs, his entire body shaking in terror, in pain.

Tenna didn't say a single word.

There wasn't a single word he could say to fix this, to help this. He was helpless. He was scared. He was so worried, that his mind was racing, his heart was pounding, his hands were shaking.

He was furious. He was horrified. He was so fucking mad at himself for not coming sooner, for leaving him alone, for leaving him vulnerable. After what happened with Orange, he should have known, he should have known.

He started to rock Spamton, in the same way he had seen him do before. He hoped that it was familiar, grounding, soothing. He hoped it helped him calm.

Spamton continued to sob, continued to tremble, continued to clutch Tenna like a lifeline.

With no other ideas, Tenna started to hum. It was a melody that he'd heard over and over again, from one of his favorite songs.

"Hold me close and hold me fast, the magic spell you cast, this is la vie en rose."

Spamton's breath hitched as the words rumbled from Tenna's chest, low and smooth.

"When you kiss me, Heaven sighs. And though I close my eyes, I see la vie en rose."

Tenna continued to rock in time with the music as he sang.

"When you press me to your heart, I'm in a world apart. A world where roses bloom."

Spamton's body stopped trembling so violently. He relaxed a little as his sobs dwindled to soft cries. Then, down to nothing at all.

"And when you speak, Angels sing from above. Everyday words seem to turn into love songs."

The tension in Spamton's face faded into a somewhat peaceful expression. His chest rose and fell with steady, even breaths.

"Give your heart and soul to me, and life will always be la vie en rose."

Tenna hummed the melody as his rocking slowed a little. He kissed Spamton's forehead and glanced at his face.

He was asleep.

Tenna relaxed.

They stayed like that for a long while. Tenna didn't want to move or risk waking him. But, eventually, once he was sure that Spamton was fast asleep, he slowly shifted to lay on him the couch. Spamton's face scrunched up at the change, but quickly settled as Tenna pulled a blanket up over his shoulders.

He ran a hand along his face, his thumb swiping at the dried tears and blood. He would clean his face a little later, once he was awake and calm, so he didn't startle him.

He focused on the mess in the space behind the living room. He grabbed a roll of paper towels and cleaning spray, then cleaned up the puddle of vomit. He went over it a few times, just to make sure everything was gone. He felt a surge of anger as he wiped up the dots of blood. He saw the trial of disaster in their wake. The struggle, the fear, the scramble. Tenna inhaled a deep breath to calm himself.

He swept up the torn bits of paper. As he gathered them in his palms, he noticed what it was.

He saw bits and pieces of words, his own scrawl looked up at him. He clenched them tight in his fists, fighting back the urge to cry in frustration.

He put them in a pile on the counter, then he started to rearrange it, back to its former glory.

The pen was smudged in some places. The words were a jumbled mess. The paper was crinkled.

But, Tenna grabbed some tape.

He pieced it back together, taping it as he went.

It was a shoddy job. It might make Spamton cry all over again. He hesitated, then glanced at the trash can.

He kept the paper on the counter, leaving it for tomorrow.

He looked at the clock. It was nearly nine. He hadn't realized just how much time had passed. He'd been in a trance, humming, singing, rocking. He frowned.

Spamton must be hungry.

Tenna didn't have much strength left, but he would make him something.

He quietly brought out a pan, then the bread, butter, and cheese.

He turned the stove on, and started to make him a grilled cheese. It was one of his favorites. Tenna hoped that it would entice him to eat. He hoped. He prayed. He fought back tears.

When the sandwich was finished, the cut it into triangles and brought the plate over to the living room. Spamton was still sleeping, so Tenna placed the sandwich on the side table, hoping that the smell would wake him up.

Spamton shifted as Tenna sat back down. His eyes scrunched up, then peeked open.

He jolted upwards and threw himself off the couch, barely managing to catch himself before his legs gave out. He whipped around, his eyes wide, filled with terror. He opened his mouth to speak, to shout, to scream, but no sound came out.

Tenna stared at him, unmoving, not wanting to startle. "Spamton," he said calmly, quietly. "It's okay. He's gone."

Spamton's lip quivered, and he slowly sank to the floor. He held up his shaking hands, staring down at them like they were disconnected from his body. He wrapped his arms around himself, and he started to rock. Tenna sat on the floor, slowly inching towards him, giving him space and time to scoot away if he needed to.

He didn't touch him. He didn't speak. He just sat there, close, in arms reach.

A long, tense moment passed.

Spamton's head slowly lifted, the rocking never ceasing. His eyes found Tenna, brimming with tears once again.

He mouthed his name.

Tenna nodded. "I'm here. He's gone."

Spamton mouthed his name again, then lifted a hand to his throat, clutching at it, clawing at it, desperate to force himself to speak.

Tenna shook his head. "Spamton, don't hurt yourself."

Spamton's nails raked against his skin. Tenna wanted to lurch forward to stop him, but he didn't want to frighten him. He shrank down a few feet, hoping to be less intimidating. The change made Spamton blink, his hands freezing, the rocking halting. He stared at him, slightly confused.

Tenna carefully reached a hand close. Spamton didn't flinch. He laid a hand on his wrist. Spamton didn't flinch. He slowly lowered his hands, holding him loosely, gently, only using two fingers to ease him away. Spamton didn't flinch.

His throat was covered in red marks now, and Tenna grimaced at the sight. But, he didn't let it show. "I'm here," he said. "I'm here."

Spamton nodded once, his eyes never leaving Tenna's screen. He let his hands fall and rest on the ground. Tenna retracted.

They stayed there in silence for a long moment. Then, Tenna slowly backed up. "Are you hungry?" He grabbed the plate of grilled cheese and placed it in front of Spamton.

Spamton glanced at it like it was poisoned. He shook his head.

"Okay," Tenna said softy. He grabbed the plate and put it back on the table. "Water?"

Spamton shook his head.

"Sleep?"

Spamton faltered. He shrugged, his head turning down to the ground.

"Do you want me here?"

Spamton nodded once.

"Closer?"

Spamton froze. He shrugged again. Then, he bit his bottom lip, holding back tears. He nodded vigorously.

Tenna scooted closer and opened his arms wide. Spamton launched himself into him, shoving his face into his chest, letting out a long, shuddering breath as he trembled.

Tenna started to rock him again, his hands rubbing circles on his back, stroking his spine. He didn't speak. Spamton didn't move.

Tenna let himself relax a little. He leaned back against the couch as he continued to hold him. Spamton followed, his eyes drifting closed, exhaustion overtaking him once again.

"Bed?" Tenna asked softly.

Spamton nodded once.

"I'm going to stand up, okay? Do you want me to carry you?"

Spamton trembled at that. Tenna's grip loosened, letting him know that he could leave at any point. Spamton thought for a moment, his breath hitching. But, he stayed in place. After a long moment, he nodded.

"Alright. I'm going to stand up now. Hold on tight."

Spamton nodded again, and Tenna started to stand. He used the couch to support himself, and Spamton's arms tightened around his neck. He held him close and secure, then he started to walk. He found the bedroom and flicked on the light to get his bearings.

It was a quaint space, with some car posters and framed awards on the walls. The bed was in a corner, furthest from the window. Tenna carefully laid Spamton down and pulled the covers up over him. He turned to leave when Spamton's hand shot out and snatched his wrist. His eyes were wide and pleading.

Please. Don't leave me.

Tenna's heart broke. "I won't leave. I'm turning the light off. I'll be back in two seconds."

Spamton's eyes flickered to the side, then his hand dropped. Tenna turned the light off, then crawled into bed with him. He tried to give him space, but Spamton was stuck to his chest like glue. So, he wrapped his arms around him, growing to his full height, encompassing him entirely. Spamton relaxed into the warmth, his body dwarfed in comparison, but the difference was the comfort he needed.

"I won't ever let them hurt you again," he murmured. "I won't ever leave you again. You won't ever have to be scared or alone ever again." His voice cracked a little. "No matter what, I will be by your side. I love you." Tenna curled around him, shielding him from the world. He didn't let himself fall asleep until he was certain that Spamton was.

Then, the exhaustion became too much to fight back, and Tenna drifted into an uneasy slumber.

Chapter Text

Morning came with a throbbing headache. Tenna groaned as he sat up, a hand to his forehead. He glanced down at Spamton beside him, who was still fast asleep. He was hugging a pillow close to his chest, hiding his face in his.

He was trembling ever so slightly. Tenna frowned, and he went to touch his shoulder, but he stopped. He didn't want to frighten him. Spamton shifted, and Tenna caught a glimpse of the side of his face. His eyes were scrunched up, with tears in the corners. His cheeks were pale. Tenna noticed that his chest was heaving. He clutched the pillow tighter, and a few muffled sounds came from his mouth, terrified and pleading.

Tenna's hand landed on his shoulder. Spamton flinched at the touch, his eyes flying open. He jolted upright and whipped around, his arms shooting up to cover his face. Tenna pulled his hand back slowly. "Hey, hey," he whispered, scooting away from him a little. "It's me, it's Tenna."

Spamton's arms slowly lowered as he stared into Tenna's face. The terror and distress faded and turned into shame and apprehension. He wrapped his arms around himself, burying his face into the crook of his elbow.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," Tenna said softly. "Are you okay?"

Spamton shook his head. He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound emerged. He made a frustrated noise, his cheeks flaring red with anger. He sniffled, then aggressively wiped his eyes.

Tenna sat there, his hands in his lap, unsure of what to do. He wanted to hold him, to comfort him, to do anything. He stayed still, though, letting Spamton call the shots, letting Spamton know that he had total control of this.

Soon enough, Spamton moved across the bed, wedging himself between Tenna's arms. He relaxed a little, although his still trembled. Tenna held him loosely, but close. He kissed the top of his head, and his fingers reached up, starting to thread through the tangled knots of his hair. Spamton let out a shuddering breath, so Tenna paused.

"Is this okay?" he whispered.

Spamton hesitated, then nodded. Tenna continued.

He carefully untangled all of the knots, brushing through his hair with so much care and precision. He remained attuned to all of Spamton's movements, pausing or slowing down whenever he tensed up. He continued whenever he was calm.

He started to hum to him again, and Spamton latched onto the sound like a lifeline. He recognized the song, and started to rock in time. Tenna sang to him softly. Spamton clearly wanted to join, to give himself some kind of comfort, but he couldn't speak.

So, he hummed.

It was broken and jaunty, and he took shuddering breaths between notes. But, he was calm. At least, mostly. His eyes weren't as cloudy, his hands weren't as shaky. He leaned into Tenna, and he could feel that his heartbeat wasn't as unsteady.

Tenna smiled, and kissed the top of his head. "You're okay," he muttered into his hair. "You're okay. I have you."

Spamton nodded, and he let his eyes drift closed.

Some time passed, then Tenna spoke up again. "Are you hungry?"

Spamton shook his head.

"When was the last time you ate, love? Lunch yesterday?" he continued.

Spamton pursed his lips, then shrugged.

"Can we at least get you some water?"

Spamton turned his head away, then gave a single nod, knowing that he wouldn't be winning this battle. He started to stand, but his legs were so shaky. He held onto the side of the bed to steady himself. Tenna stood up next to him, then held his arm out. Spamton latched onto it, and they made their way into the kitchen.

"Couch?" he asked, gesturing to the living room. 

Spamton shook his head. 

"Sit by me while I cook?" 

Spamton nodded at that. Tenna kissed the top of his head, then pulled a chair up to the kitchen counter. Spamton sat, and Tenna was about to turn and start making breakfast when he heard his breath hitch.

Tenna turned and saw what Spamton was holding. The taped-up note, held tightly between his fingers, crinkling and barely kept together. Spamton's eyes lifted from the note to Tenna's face, tears welling up in the corners. Tenna was about to apologize, to grab it, to throw it away, but Spamton held it close to his chest and mouthed a silent, "Thank you."

Tenna held his hand out, low down, close to the table. He moved it slowly to Spamton, who took it in his own and squeezed it tight. Tenna walked over to him, and kissed the top of his head. "I'm sorry, Spams," he whispered.

Spamton shrugged, his head tilting down to stare blankly at the counter. He started to shake, and he held on tighter to Tenna's hand. His mouth dropped open, and he tried so desperately to speak. It came out as a strained whine. Spamton slammed his hand on the table, then dropped Tenna's hand. He clutched at the sides of his head, one hand hitting himself in the forehead over and over. Tenna grasped onto his wrist and held it firm. "Spamton, don't hurt yourself," he mustered. 

Spamton couldn't hear him. He tried to yank his hand from his grasp, but when he couldn't, he started to panic. Tenna dropped his hand in an instant, but Spamton started to pull at his hair. Startled, Tenna held onto both of his wrists again. "Spamton, hey," he said, calmly but firmly. "Hear me, focus on me. Do you want your spike stim?"

Spamton struggled for another moment, making strained vocalizations, like strangled whimpers. Tenna's instincts screamed at him to let go, to stop the panic, but he didn't. Spamton would only hurt himself more, and Tenna wouldn't let it happen. He held on tightly until Spamton's body stopped flinching. It took a few, agonizingly long minutes, but he did stop eventually. He wasn't calm, he was just completely defeated, the little bit of energy he had drained. He slumped, then turned his head up to face Tenna.

He stared at him, his eyes wide, bloodshot. His hair was a mess. There was a red mark on the side of his forehead. Tenna wanted to crumble and cry, but he stayed strong, and continued to prevent him from hurting himself. "I can go get your spike stim, so you don't hurt yourself. Okay? Will you be okay for a moment?"

Spamton shifted and stared back at the counter. His eyes turned blank, almost lifeless. His arms drooped, and Tenna slowly let go. They fell onto the counter with a thud that made Tenna wince. Spamton wrapped his arms around himself, curling up into a little ball.

"I'm going to go find your spike stim," he said again. "I won't be far."

Spamton didn't respond. Tenna wanted to lay a hand on his back, wanted to comfort him, wanted to ground him, but he couldn't. Spamton flinched when he backed up, and it made his heart ache. He turned and started to walk, but glanced back every few moments. Spamton remained frozen in place, not even rocking, barely even breathing.

Tenna was quick. He made his way back to Spamton's room, then started to rifle through his things. He started at his desk, pulling open drawers and sifting through the junk. Thankfully, he found it fast, and he returned to Spamton within a minute. He placed it in front of him, and Spamton hesitantly grabbed it. He started to roll it between his hands, the tension somewhat releasing from his body.

Tenna let out a sigh of relief. He got Spamton a glass of water, but he didn't touch it. Tenna didn't comment. He started to make breakfast. Eggs, bacon, and toast. He dished Spamton up first, then made himself a plate. Spamton continued to roll the spike stim between his hands, staring at it with a mesmerized look on his face. He didn't even look up when Tenna placed the food in front of him.

Tenna started to eat, but he kept his eyes on Spamton. Once he was finished, the washed the dishes and put them away. Spamton never once moved. Tenna pursed his lips. "Spamton, you have to eat something," he said quietly.

Spamton's eyes finally turned to him. Blank, dull, lifeless.

Tenna frowned. He thought for a moment. He got a straw from a drawer and placed it in Spamton's water glass. That made his eyes perk up with a hint of interest. So, Tenna pushed the glass towards him. He leaned forward a bit, then started to drink the water, his hands still preoccupied with the spike stim. Tenna nodded with a silent, satisfied huff.

He stood next to Spamton, close enough to be within reach, but not touching. Spamton was content to fiddle with the spike stim as soon as he was done drinking. He drank about half the glass, which made Tenna smile a little. 

He just needed to figure out how to make him eat. 

Maybe, he could try his favorites?

Tenna frowned a little. He didn't want to guess. But, it seemed like he was going to have to do some trial and error to find out what Spamton would eat.

"Spamton," he said. Spamton flinched the tiniest bit, but settled and turned to face him. His eyes seemed a little less blank, but he clearly wasn't entirely there. He was mostly zoned out. Tenna lowered his voice so he didn't frighten him again. "Can you tell me what you want to eat?"

Spamton's lips pressed into a thin line. He shrugged, then shook his head. 

Tenna hummed as he thought. "Cereal?" No. "Pancakes?" No. "Fruit?" No.

Spamton huffed, getting annoyed and frustrated. He shook his head at Tenna, trying to tell him to stop. He turned his attention back to his spike stim, rolling it even more aggressively between his hands. 

"Smoothie?"

Spamton paused. He shrugged.

But, Tenna nodded. "Alright. I'll make you a smoothie."

He started to gather what random fruits they had, strawberries, blueberries, oranges, the like. Most of it came from the freezer. Tenna found the blender, then started to toss things in at random. He went heavy on the strawberries, then added some water to help it blend. He went to turn it on, but he hesitated. He looked up at Spamton, who was zoned out yet again. "This is going to be loud," he said. "Will you be okay?"

Spamton glanced up at him, then at the blender. He nodded.

Tenna started up the blender, but kept his gaze on Spamton. He didn't flinch, didn't even react. So, Tenna finished blending it, and he poured it into a cup. He added a straw, then placed it in front of Spamton.

He leaned forward and started to drink.

Tenna gave himself a pat on the back. He took his place next to Spamton again, and they fell into comfortable silence. Then, barely even a few minutes later, Tenna heard the straw suck nothing but air from the bottom of the glass. He sent a look to Spamton, who turned to stare at him. His eyes were wide, but not in fear, in... asking? He scooted the glass to Tenna, who faltered for a moment. 

"More?" he asked.

With a smile, the first smile that Tenna had seen in long time, Spamton nodded.

Tenna chuckled, then grabbed the glass and walked over to the blender. There was still some leftover, so he poured the rest into it and passed it back to Spamton. Spamton eagerly leaned forward and drank, clearly realizing that he really was hungry.

Tenna thought for a moment, then picked up the fork on Spamton's plate. He filled it up with a bite of eggs, then brought it to Spamton's mouth as soon as he was away from the smoothie.

Spamton hesitated, then took the bite from the fork. Tenna scooped some more eggs, and Spamton ate them. Tenna smiled softly and continued to offer him more, with Spamton getting more energetic with every bite. He still rolled the spike stim between his hands, but it wasn't as harsh, or as quickly as before. He bobbed his head to a silent melody as he ate, his eyes trained on one spot on the counter. Tenna finished with the eggs, so he moved onto the toast. Spamton took small bites of it, then his gaze shifted to the bacon. So, Tenna fed him the bacon.

Spamton relaxed as they finished breakfast. He placed the spike stim on the counter, then reached and grabbed the water. He drank the rest of it, then passed the glass to Tenna, who refilled it and handed it back. Spamton drank until he was satisfied.

He hopped off the chair and crossed over to Tenna, wedging himself between his arms, heaving a long sigh. Tenna was happy to wrap him up in a warm embrace. He kissed the top of his head as he swayed them back and forth. "I have you, Spams," he whispered. "I promise, I have you. You can come to me for anything, okay? I won't ever turn you away, I won't ever leave you."

Spamton shook a little, but gave a nod. He sighed again, comfortable in the moment, relishing the closeness.

Tenna didn't let go until Spamton pulled away. But, even then, Spamton didn't stray far from him. He stuck to his side like glue. Tenna was about to lead them to the couch when he noticed the dried blood still cakes to his cheeks. It was flaking off a little, but most of it was sticking. It must have been uncomfortable. The scratches had to be painful.

Rage bubbled up within Tenna, but he took in a deep breath to calm himself. He carded his fingers through Spamton's hair, gently getting his attention. Spamton turned and looked up at him, a questioning look on his face.

Tenna wanted to cup his face, stroke his cheeks, kiss his nose. But, he refrained. Instead, he asked softly, "Do you want me to clean and bandage you?"

Spamton's hand flew up to his cheek, touching the scratched spot, feeling the blood, seeing the blood. He shook for a moment. Tenna reached over to the counter to grab his spike stim, and Spamton quickly grabbed it and rolled it between his palms. After a moment, he nodded.

"You sure?" Tenna pressed. 

Spamton took in a deep breath. He looked into Tenna's face, giving him eye contact, and nodded. Tenna stepped to the side, letting him lead the way. But, Spamton paused. He trembled a little, and shook his head. He took a step behind Tenna.

Tenna faltered, but didn't press. He took the lead, going into Spamton's bedroom to find the connected bathroom. Spamton followed close behind, his hand holding loosely on Tenna's wrist. He sat on the closed toilet lid, then Tenna started to look for the first aid kit. There wasn't one, just a wad of bandages stuffed inside a plastic bag. There was a small tube of ointment, with barely anything left. But, it would work.

Tenna got a washcloth and wet it with warm water from the sink, then he reached to Spamton's face. "I'm going to clean it, okay? Tap my shoulder twice if you need me to stop." 

Spamton nodded in understanding. He leaned forward a little bit, clenching his eyes shut.

Tenna washed his face gently, his gaze trained on Spamton's posture, watching for any sudden shift or flinch. Spamton remained calm for the most part. He squirmed uncomfortably every so often, but he never backed up or pushed Tenna away. So, Tenna continued. Once all the mess was cleaned, he picked up the ointment and two bandages. He spread a dot on each of the scratches, then covered them up. He went to kiss out of instinct, but he paused.

"Can I kiss them, Spams?" he asked.

Spamton's shoulders hunched upwards, his gaze darting to the side. He shook his head. So, Tenna retracted. He kissed his hands instead, which made Spamton smile a little. He helped him out of the bathroom, but was unsure of where he wanted to go. He didn't hang behind him, however. He left the room first, and Spamton trailed along. He sat on the couch, and Spamton sat next to him. He curled up under his arm, then he closed his eyes, and his breathing evened.

Tenna found a blanket and covered the both of them up. "Do you want to put on a movie?"

Spamton shrugged.

Tenna grinned a little. "How about I read Lovers Mountain?"

Spamton made a motion of a snort, but no noise came out except for an amused puff from his nose. He nodded. 

Tenna stood up, then headed to the front door. He looked back at Spamton, who's eyes suddenly went wide at the idea of him leaving. He scrambled to stand and follow, but Tenna held up his hands. "I'm not leaving. It's in my car. I'll be back in one moment."

Spamton relaxed, then nodded. He sat back on the couch, huddling under the blanket. Tenna grabbed the book and returned not a moment later, and he took his spot next to Spamton. They both got comfortable, then Tenna flipped to their bookmarked page and started to read.

Chapter Text

Tenna groaned softly as he woke up, his vision blurry at the edges. He held a hand to his head, wincing at the slight ache. He sat up and was about to stand when he smelled something coming from the kitchen. He frowned in confusion, then took in a whiff.

Bacon. Bacon?

He tugged the blankets off, then glanced to the side. Spamton wasn't beside him. He quickly stood and made his way into the kitchen, where he saw Spamton by the stove, happily cooking away with some headphones on. Tenna approached from the side, not wanting to startle him too badly.

"Good morning," he said loudly, and Spamton's head turned towards him, slightly surprised, but not afraid. He gave a wide smile, then pointed to a plate on the counter.

There were two eggs, sunny-side up, dappled with salt and pepper. Next to it were a few slices of crispy bacon, and two pieces of toast. Beside the plate was a mug of coffee, so pale that it was almost white, just the way he liked it. Tenna's shoulders slumped forward, and he sniffled at the display, a hand up to his mouth. He wanted to cry. His heart swelled with pride at the happy look on Spamton's face.

He stepped forward and opened his arms a little. Spamton didn't waste a single second before throwing himself into Tenna's embrace, holding him tight in a death grip, no doubt feeling the pride radiating off of him. Tenna kissed the top of his head, chuckling as he knocked the headphones around a little. Spamton reached up to take them off, pausing his music as he did so.

"You've been doing so much better these last few days," Tenna said softly. "I'm so proud of you, Spammy."

Spamton trembled a little at that, and he hid his face in Tenna's chest. He gave a soft hum, his words still eluding him. Tenna kissed the top of his head over and over. Spamton embraced him fiercely, trying to convey all of the words in his mind, trying to show just how much he cared, how much this all mattered to him. Tenna understood. Even without this display, he understood.

Spamton let out a small sigh, then retracted. He pointed to the plate, then to the table, a firm look on his face.

"Alright, alright, I'll go and eat," Tenna chuckled, ruffling his hair before kissing him again. "Thank you, Spams. You're the best."

Spamton blushed, then turned back to the stove and continued to make his own breakfast. Tenna sat and watched him as he ate, looking for any sign of distress at all.

He had to admit, it was a very drastic switch from the last few days. Spamton had mostly been shut down, barely moving, eating, drinking, doing anything at all, really. He was almost always in a trance-like state, staring down at his hands while rolling his spike stim between his palms. He would do that for hours, not making a single other movement, or any kind of noise. It would have been easy to forget he was even there, but Tenna was so laser-focused on him that he knew exactly where he was at all times.

But, seeing him open like this, smiling, cooking, it made Tenna want to sob. He wanted to wrap him up in his arms and tell him just how incredible he was, how strong he was, how brave, how determined.

He gave a small, shuddering breath, then he continued to eat. Spamton joined him not too long after, with his own plate of breakfast and coffee. He leaned his head on Tenna's shoulder as he started to eat. Tenna sent a glance at him. "No smoothie today?"

Spamton shook his head with a shrug. Tenna nodded, then he continued to eat. He laid his hand on the table, letting Spamton know he could hold it if he wanted to. He did, and Tenna smiled softly before kissing the top of his head. "How are you feeling today? Must be better."

Spamton smiled and nodded. He pointed to his head, then made a gesture with his hand, like sweeping something away.

"Your head is clearer?" Tenna asked.

Spamton lit up and nodded.

"That's good, Spams. I'm really glad," he said, kissing his head. "What do you want to do today?"

Spamton thought for a moment, then shrugged. He made a small, "oh!" sound, then made a walking motion with his fingers. Tenna nodded. "Yeah, we can go for a walk. Do you want to go to our hiking trail?"

Spamton's shoulders trembled for a moment before he shook his head. He eyed the front door with a strange glance, one that Tenna couldn't describe. But, he didn't push. "Alright. How about the park? It's a couple of minutes away from here. We can take some things to make a picnic, too. Some fresh air will do you good."

Spamton nodded at that, the trembles fading away as he relaxed again. He sighed and leaned into Tenna's shoulder. They finished up breakfast in comfortable silence, then Spamton took the dishes to the sink and started to wash them before Tenna could even make a peep. He smiled at him softly, then just took a moment to observe.

The light from the window cast a warm glow behind him, illuminating the sleekness of his black hair. Tenna looked a bit closer, and noticed small white streaks in the roots. He frowned in confusion, but at the same time, it was beautiful. He would have to ask him about the color, though. Maybe he could help him dye it if he wanted to keep it black.

Spamton's posture was more assured, more sturdy. He wasn't hunched forward and trying to hide himself any longer. His shoulders were back, but relaxed. He had a pleasant look on his face, not smiling, but not scrunched up either. He looked peaceful, at ease, with less turmoil. The scratches on his cheeks had started to heal, but they would leave small scars, no doubt. Tenna's heart ached at the thought.

He wanted to wipe them away with his thumbs, or kiss them away in a moment of softness. He wanted to take all of the pain from Spamton away and toss it into the wind. He wanted all of this anger inside of him to fade, so he could focus on loving Spamton instead of hating his brothers.

Lately, all he could feel was spite. It was difficult to control himself, to make sure he didn't show his anger around Spamton, to make sure he didn't scare him with sudden movements or harsh words. But, he couldn't stop himself. He wanted to find that motherfucker and slam his face into the concrete until his teeth were chipped, until his nose was broken, until his face was a mangled mess of blood and pain.

He frowned, then took in a small breath to calm himself before he lost his mind. He gazed back at Spamton, who was swaying a silent tune, his head bobbing as he hummed lyrics. If Tenna listened closely, he could make out the melody. It was the song he had sang that first night to calm him, to ground him. He smiled at it, then he stood and made his way over to him. He held out his hand, then waited.

Spamton looked at him with a questioning expression. He hesitantly took his hand, and Tenna moved them over to a more open space, then pulled him in close, but not for an embrace. He placed a hand on his shoulder, then intertwined their fingers. Spamton glanced at him with wide eyes, then placed his hand on Tenna's hip. They started to sway. Tenna tried to take the lead, but he had only ever danced once, and that was months ago at this point.

Months.

They'd been together for just a handful of months.

It had been the greatest time of Tenna's life. He'd never felt this much love, this much adoration, given as freely as Spamton gave it. It was unconditional. It was pure. It was true.

He loved every second of it. Every up, every down, every random step sideways.

Things were new. Things were exciting. He was figuring things out about himself that he'd never even thought of before. How he wanted to be strong, be confident, be assured, not even just on stage, but in all aspects of his life. He wanted to be a pillar, a harbor, a safe place to return to.

He was loved in a way that he never could have imagined. He was cared for and adored in such a manner that he didn't know how he survived this long without it. He was happy even when the world was trying to tear him down. He struggled, yes, but nothing compared to the sight of Spamton's face when they locked eyes. The way his face lit up, the way he smiled freely, the way he held onto his hand and never wanted to let go.

Tenna was attached. Who wouldn't be attached?

Spamton was... everything.

Spamton was Tenna's everything.

He was perfect in every way. Kind, understanding, open. He was so strong, so incredibly strong. Tenna knew that it didn't feel like it, to be constantly torn down by circumstances, but the fact that Spamton stood there before him was proof of how strong he was, how brave, how determined.

Tenna's hands held him a little tighter, pulled him a little closer. He started to step, and Spamton stepped in time, his eyes trained on Tenna's screen.

As they got into a rhythm, Tenna started to sing. Spamton smiled softly and joined in, humming instead of saying the words. They swayed and stepped together, dancing in a small circle in the middle of the room. Spamton's eyes welled up with small tears, and Tenna brushed them away with his thumb.

Their steps would falter every so often, but Spamton took the lead, guiding Tenna with a familiar precision. Tenna spun him out, then reeled him back in. He leaned him into a small dip, holding onto his waist and hand tightly, making sure he didn't fall. Spamton smiled all the while, relishing the moment, never wanting it to end.

As the song drew to a close, Tenna stopped in his steps, and he cupped Spamton's cheek. "You're beautiful, Spammy," he whispered.

Spamton tried to look away, his face alight with embarrassment, but Tenna lured him back with a gentle kiss to his lips. Their gazes met again, but Spamton didn't feel forced, or afraid, or stuck. He gave eye contact willingly, relaxed into his arms, knowing that there wouldn't ever be a moment that Tenna hurt him, or tormented him, or scared him.

"I mean it," Tenna said, his voice quiet. "Everything about you is something I love, something I cherish."

Spamton's lips pursed, and he pointed to his throat with a frustrated look on his face.

"That's part of you, Spams. It's difficult, I know. I can't even begin to understand how it feels to..." he trailed off for a moment at the sight of Spamton's eyes brimming with tears again. But, he wiped them away and continued. "I can't understand how you feel. None of it. But, it's part of you. It would be silly of me to ignore it or shun it. I want to help you with it. I want to help you feel safe enough so you can be vulnerable with me, or open up to me."

Spamton nodded once, his expression softening a little. He wiped his eyes, then leaned his head into Tenna's chest. They continued to sway.

"You mean everything to me," Tenna muttered. "You wormed your way right into my heart, and I couldn't help but fall in love with you. And even when I messed up, even when everything seemed like it was turned against you, you still let me in."

Spamton made a small, remorseful noise, almost like he was trying to apologize for something. Tenna wasn't sure what he would ever be apologizing for. He kissed the top of his head, just to silently reassure him.

"I'm sorry for telling you that I needed space," he said, his face scrunching up a little. "I think that everything was so new to me, I didn't know how to handle it. I... really don't like being away from you, Spams. You make me so happy, so incredibly happy."

Spamton made another noise, like he was trying to say it's okay. 

Tenna carded his fingers through his hair. "I-I know that it isn't perfect, that we both have some things that we need to work through. But, I don't want to be apart. Even when this all blows over us, and you're feeling better, I don't want us to be apart. I love being next to you, laughing and drinking and talking with you. I love reading our stupid little book, or talking about our show. I just... I love you. I love you, Spamton. I love you so much."

Spamton quaked at the words, his shoulders starting to tremble as he bit back a soft cry. He nodded vigorously into Tenna's chest. Me too.

Tenna held onto his hand, then brought it to his lips to kiss. Spamton squeezed it thrice, then after a moment, squeezed it again. I love you. I love you so much.

Tenna smiled. "You'll be okay," he said. "We're going to make it through, okay?"

He looked apprehensive for a moment, but he relaxed a little. He exhaled a deep breath, then looked at Tenna with a soft smile. Thank you, he mouthed.

Tenna leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his forehead, his grip tightening ever so slightly. He held him close to his chest and asked, "Do you still want to go out to the park?"

Spamton nodded, and he pointed in the direction of the bedroom.

"Nap first?" Tenna guessed. Spamton shook his head. "Uh, change your clothes? Oh, do you want to shower?" Spamton nodded at that.

"Alright. I'll make the lunches while you shower." He started to pull away, but Spamton held tight to his hand and made a small noise of dismay. Tenna looked at him with slight confusion. Spamton pointed to the bedroom, then at Tenna, then at himself. Tenna thought for a moment. "Do you want me to shower with you? Wash your hair?"

Spamton lit up and nodded, a smile coming back onto his face. Tenna led the way into the bedroom. Spamton went into the bathroom to start the shower as Tenna picked out clothes for them to wear. He followed after Spamton once he was done, then laid out the clothes on the counter in two separate piles. They both undressed, then stepped inside the shower once it was hot enough.

Spamton let out a long, content sigh as the hot water cascaded down his body, washing away all the tension in his muscles. He stood there for several long moments, face tilted towards the water, enjoying the warmth. Tenna stood behind him, his hands on Spamton's shoulders, letting him know he was there. Spamton leaned back into his chest with a happy sigh.

Tenna smiled and kissed the top of his head, then he noticed the white strands again. "Spams, you had white hair?"

Spamton tensed, then shrugged. He touched at his hair, grasping a few strands and plucking them to see. He pursed his lips, then let the water sweep the hair down the drain. He pointed to the white parts of his hair with an annoyed huff.

"You want us to pick up some hair dye so we can fix it?" he asked. Spamton smiled and nodded. "Alright, we can do that. Today?"

Spamton thought for a moment, then he shrugged. He twiddled his thumbs and started to pick a little at the skin, before he dropped his hands. He handed Tenna the shampoo, then turned to face away from the water so he could rinse his hair. Tenna poured some shampoo onto his hands, then once Spamton was ready, he started to massage it into his scalp.

Spamton melted at the motion. He let out another happy sigh, then leaned into Tenna's chest. Tenna thoroughly washed his hair, carding his fingers through it, untangling all of the knots. He rinsed all of the soap out, then pressed a kiss to his forehead. Spamton caught his wrist before he could fully move away, and he slowly guided it to his shoulder. Tenna paused for a moment, then he started to dug his fingers into his skin a little, rubbing in slow, calculated circles.

Spamton's eyes fluttered shut, and a blissful look overtook his face. Tenna continued to rub his shoulders until Spamton grasped onto his wrists again. There was a brief moment of apprehension, then he slid Tenna's hands down until his thumbs were pressing against his nipples.

Tenna held back a chuckle. "You want something, Spammy?"

Spamton pouted with a noise of faux-frustration, then tugged on Tenna's wrists, asking for more.

"Just want me to take care of you? Make you feel good?" he asked.

Spamton flushed, then nodded. Tenna let himself take a little bit of control, his fingers shifting to latch onto Spamton's nipples. He pinched them lightly, then twisted a little. Spamton let out a soft moan, his eyes screwing shut. Tenna took to his knees and wrapped his lips around one of his nipples. Spamton's breath hitched and he leaned back against the wall, his hands scrambling for purchase on a shelf behind him.

Tenna's tongue darted from between his lips, and he moaned around Spamton's nipple, his cock growing hard and pressing up against his leg. He could feel Spamton's cock lurch forward, and he wrapped one of his hands around it. Spamton moaned louder, his hips already starting to buck.

Tenna released his nipple with a quiet pop, then grinned up at him. "Barely touched you, love. You're already so needy."

Spamton glared at him, but it didn't last for long. Tenna's hand started to pump his cock slowly, teasingly. He licked a stripe along his chest, then took his nipple back into his mouth and sucked harder. He moaned into his warm skin, water seeping through the cracks of his lips, down his face, down to his cock. His other hand wrapped around Spamton's waist, holding him in place as he trailed kisses down his chest and belly. He grinned up at him, but paused for just a moment.

"Is this okay?" he asked.

Spamton nodded purposefully, not a single shred of doubt in his expression. Just love, just desperation, just need and want. Tenna pressed a firm kiss to the center of his belly, then lowered his head. He pressed a few feather-light kisses to the tip of Spamton's cock, which made him whine and buck his hips forward, silently begging him to hurry it up and stop teasing.

Tenna chuckled, then dropped his mouth open and licked a stripe on the underside of his cock. Spamton moaned, his knees starting to go weak as Tenna took the whole length between his lips. He moaned around him and bobbed his head, trying to emulate what Spamton had done to him before. He encircled the tip with his tongue, and Spamton cried out, his hands flying to Tenna's shoulders, gripping onto him for support.

Tenna took the cue that he was doing good, and started to bob his head with a bit more enthusiasm. He swallowed around him, and Spamton's body shuddered. He slid down a few inches, barely able to hold himself upright. Tenna's hand wrapped around his hips, one hand on his ass, nails ever so slightly digging into his skin. He helped hold him up that way, while Spamton's hands floundered between the shelf and his shoulders. He moaned and rocked his hips forward, the top of his cock hitting the back of Tenna's throat, making him gag just a little.

He made a small noise, trying to apologize, but it was cut off by a moan as Tenna hollowed his cheeks and sucked, his tongue stroking the underside of his cock even more. He squeezed Tenna's shoulder with a loud whimper. His legs trembled, his mind filled with nothing but fuzz and need. He braced himself, then started to fuck Tenna's throat. He gasped and whimpered, his body shuddering as he sped up, chasing the heat pooling in his belly. Tenna's head bobbed faster, his tongue stroking harder. He swallowed over and over, relishing as Spamton's moans breached the octave.

He came with a shuddering gasp, and he slid down the wall of the shower, landing on his ass with a soft thud. Tenna sat back on his heels and licked his lips, a grin on his face. "Good?" he asked cheekily.

Spamton didn't even have the energy to retort. He lurched forward into Tenna's arms, burying his face into his shoulder, his body quivering in the aftermath of his orgasm. Tenna held him close, his fingernails running up and down his spine, gently grazing his skin. He backed up, then cupped Spamton's face in his hands, holding up his weight. "Can I kiss you?" he whispered.

Spamton nodded, and Tenna kissed him gently. But, Spamton wanted more. He moaned into him, dropping his mouth open. Tenna ran his tongue along Spamton's bottom lip, then pressed it inside, mapping the expanse of his mouth. Spamton moaned around his tongue, the saliva from their mouths mixing with water and cum.

They parted for only a moment, but Tenna couldn't resist. He dove back in, kissing him fervently. He sat back and pulled him into his lap, their cocks brushing against each other. They moaned in broken unison, and Tenna wrapped a hand around both of them. Spamton's breath hitched and he nodded, his lips forming a silent string of please please please.

Tenna stroked their cocks in tandem as he kissed Spamton over and over again. They melted into each other, molding and shaping to be exactly what the other needed. Tenna took more control, holding Spamton in his hands like he was delicate. Spamton relaxed in Tenna's embrace, filled with pleasure and love and trust.

Tenna kissed a line down his chin and jaw before pressing his lips to the sensitive crook of Spamton's neck. That earned a sharp inhale and a subsequent moan, with Spamton's hands clutching his biceps, his hips bucking upwards into his hand. Tenna's kisses grew more firm, and his teeth grazed along his skin. Spamton nodded into him, begging for more. Tenna gave it. He mouthed at his neck, his tongue licking across his hot and wet skin. He stroked faster and moaned into his neck as he felt their cocks throb in his hand.

It didn't take too much longer for Spamton to cum again. His body quivered as he moaned, but Tenna didn't stop there. He continued to stroke, continued to kiss, continued to bite, until Spamton cried out, his body taken by overstimulation. He squirmed in his grasp, words forming on his lips, but dying before he could speak. He moaned and gasped as Tenna came, and his hand slowed to a stop.

They stayed that way for a few moments, chests heaving, faces flushed, moans on their lips. Tenna kissed him. Spamton latched onto his neck and pulled him down closer, moaning into him. Tenna held him closer, tighter, his mind fuzzy, his body trembling.

Over time, their cum was slowly washed away by the shower overhead. But, Tenna grabbed a washcloth and started to properly clean them. Spamton leaned back, allowing him to reach his belly to wipe away the mess. He peppered his face with kisses all the while, which made Spamton laugh quietly.

After they were cleaned, Tenna pressed another kiss to Spamton's lips. Then, he reached around and turned the water off. They got out, and Tenna dried them both off. He handed Spamton his clothes, and they both got dressed. Before they left the bathroom, Spamton grasped onto Tenna's wrist and offered him a soft smile.

He opened his mouth to speak, then his eyes widened, and they filled with tears. He gave a soft huff, then looked at Tenna directly in the eyes, a soft sob making itself known. He swallowed it down, then he spoke.

"Thank you, Tenna."

Chapter Text

Tenna stopped. Had he heard that right? Did Spamton just... speak?

He stared. He tried to say something in response, but he couldn't form the words. His mind was exploding with emotion, things that he couldn't even begin to describe. Relief, mostly, but also a sudden rush of joy.

His mouth dropped open, then he clamped it shut. He tried to force words out of his mouth, but it only came out as blubbering nonsense. Spamton's eyes scrunched up in worry, in confusion.

He inhaled a deep breath, then he started to sniffle. He tried to swallow back his tears, to wipe them before they fell, but he couldn't. He covered his face with his hands, shielding it from Spamton's view as his shoulders hunched forward.

Spamton reeled backwards, his eyes going wide. "Hey- hey! Are you okay?"

Tenna nodded. He let out a sob, then lurched forward and wrapped his arms around Spamton's shoulders, hiding his face in his neck. Spamton squeaked at the sudden and fierce embrace, then he wrapped his arms around Tenna, huffing softly. Tenna cried into his shoulder, trying to be quiet, but the shudders from his body were far too obvious.

"Yeah," Spamton muttered, his face scrunching up a little. He exhaled a slow, calculated breath, then held Tenna tighter. His voice broke. "Yeah."

They sank to the floor in a heap, Tenna barely able to contain himself as he started to shrink a little. His voice, barely louder than a whisper, was shaky and broken, barely audible. "I missed your voice, Spammy."

Spamton's breath hitched, and he nodded. "I know," he mustered between shuddering sighs. He felt tears prick the corners of his eyes, and he wiped them away with his thumb. Then, he chuckled lightly. "Have to make up for lost time, huh, Tenna?"

Tenna leaned back a little, glancing at Spamton's face, searching for something. He wasn't sure what. Distress, maybe? Fear, unease, anything at all. But, there was nothing but a soft glint in his eye, a small smile on his face, his cheeks rosy.

Why? Why now? Tenna couldn't help but wonder. But, did it matter? Spamton sat before him, looking better than ever, more radiant than ever, more happy and relieved than ever.

He let out a burbling laugh, then scooped him into his lap and peppered his face with feather-light kisses. Spamton wrapped his arms around his neck, pushing his face closer, relishing the affection. "I'm so glad," Tenna mustered between kisses. "You were worrying me, Spams."

Spamton shrugged, averting his gaze for a moment. "I-I know. I'm sorry, Tenna. I tried. I tried so hard."

"You never needed to force yourself," Tenna said softly, cupping his face in his hand. "If you don't want to talk, you don't have to talk. I'm just- I'm just so happy. I-I don't even know what to do with myself." He let out a shaky breath, then kissed his forehead again. "How are you feeling?"

Spamton relaxed, a smile overtaking his face. "Better. I'm feeling a lot better. Thank you for everything. For not... not leaving me behind."

Tenna frowned as he carded his fingers through his hair. "I never would. Never. I'm always going to be here when you need me, okay?" He chuckled. "You're stuck with me, Spams."

Spamton snorted a little. "More like you're stuck with me. Like glue."

Tenna held onto his hand and intertwined their fingers, squeezing thrice. "Like glue." He brought his hand to his lips to kiss, then shifted to press firm kisses to his wrist. Spamton quaked a little bit, his face shading pink. Tenna kissed each and every one of his scars, covering every square inch of the blemished skin. He raised his head to catch Spamton's gaze, who flushed and gave a small nod.

Tenna continued, kissing up his arm to his shoulder, to his neck, to his jaw, to his lips. Spamton tilted his head backwards, and Tenna peppered his throat with gentle kisses. "You have such a beautiful voice, Spammy," he muttered. "I missed it. So much."

Spamton placed his hands on Tenna's shoulders, a small whine leaving his lips. "I missed telling you how much I love you," he whispered.

Tenna pressed his lips harder into his skin, feeling the vibrations from his vocal cords, shuddering. "Say it, won't you?" he asked softly.

"I love you, Tenna," Spamton said instantly, his voice cracking. "I love you so much."

Tenna surged forward, kissing the places where he had scratched out of frustration. There were tiny lines left behind, no welts or blemishes, but faint marks. But, he kissed them anyway. He kissed his neck fervently, like he had something to prove. He mouthed the crook of it, holding Spamton's hands tightly to his chest, right above his heart. "Again."

"I love you," Spamton moaned, his eyes squeezing shut. He craned his neck, and Tenna kissed harder, sucking in deep breaths of air through his nose as he did so, trying but failing to keep himself calm. He felt emotion well up in his chest again, and he bit back a sob. "You alright, Tenna?" Spamton asked, his hands tightening around his.

Tenna nodded and kissed his throat more, worshiping it silently. Everything he couldn't say, he tried to convey. Each kiss had purpose, every breath had meaning.

I love you.

You're so strong.

You amaze me.

You enthrall me.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

He pulled back and studied Spamton's face. His cheeks were red with fluster, his eyes half-lidded, his lips in a sloppy smile. He lifted his chin with two fingers, then slotted their lips together in a tender kiss.

The world melted away. All that remained was them.

He reached up to touch Tenna's face, his thumbs wiping away tears that he hadn't even noticed. "It really affected you this much?" Spamton whispered hesitantly.

"I'm worried sick about you, Spams," Tenna admitted. "I can't even begin to tell you. I just- I'm so relieved. And so proud. And you're just so strong, Spammy." He cupped his face and pressed their foreheads together. "You're so strong."

Spamton nodded once, then kissed him again. They didn't part for a long while, and even when they did, they stayed close. They sat together for a few more minutes, relishing the proximity, relaxing in the quiet.

Spamton spoke up first. "Can we go to the park, Tenna?"

Tenna nodded. "Of course, love. Anything you want." He stood up and helped Spamton to his feet as well, then walked out of the bathroom hand in hand. They made their way into the kitchen, Tenna leading the way, Spamton trailing along behind him. He sat by the counter, leaning his head on his hands as Tenna began to prepare some lunches. He made some sandwiches and chips, then sliced some fruits and put them in a tupperware.

His mind was a whirlwind. He pursed his lips as he worked, lost in thought. He was still worried about Spamton, of course. The suddenness of his voice returning was shocking to say the least. That entire day had already been such a drastic switch. Waking up to breakfast and smiles was a welcome surprise, of course, but it was slightly worrying. The bright happiness was a stark contrast to the last few days of apprehensive silence and fear.

Tenna couldn't help but worry that there was something happening beneath the surface, something that he couldn't put his finger on. He wanted to ask, he wanted to know what was going on in his head, but he was too afraid to pry. He didn't want to upset him by asking or pushing too far. Spamton never really spoke about his feelings, and he especially never opened up about his childhood. He was afraid that he would set him back, fuck up his progress, fuck up his good mood.

So, despite the words bubbling up in his throat, he swallowed them down and continued to make the lunches. Once he was done, he packed everything into a backpack, and added a few water bottles as well.

All the while, Spamton just sat and watched quietly. He watched Tenna closely, noticing every subtle shift in his expression. He frowned, then reached across the counter and grasped onto his hand. "Hey, talk to me," he said softly. "I haven't been able to be there for you."

Tenna brought his hand to his lips to kiss, then shook his head. "Spammy, I don't-"

"Tenna," his voice turned more firm. "Talk to me. Ask me what you want to ask. I can tell you're holding back."

Tenna huffed, then turned his head to the side, his shoulders hunching forward a little bit. "How are you feeling, Spamton?"

Spamton tensed a little bit, his gaze averted for a moment. His eyes unfocused, then he blinked and steeled his expression. "It's complicated." He exhaled a breath, then he continued. "I think my brain is still in fight or flight. I'm anxious a-and jumpy, but then I can talk again. I don't really understand it." He squeezed Tenna's hand. "But, you make me feel safe. I think I just needed a few days to... to really understand that."

Tenna nodded, but kept quiet so Spamton could continue to speak. And, he did.

"I've never had someone care for me like this before," he muttered with a soft smile. "It's new and, I have to admit, really weird and kind of scary. I feel like I need to look over my shoulder every second, because I feel like- like he's there." He cast a glance over his shoulder, but of course, nobody was there. "It's just you. A-and you take such good care of me, but I feel like I'm waiting for the punchline."

Tenna frowned a little. "What do you mean?"

"I'm waiting for you to turn around and... and treat me like they did, Tenna." His face scrunched up, and he wrapped his arms around himself, trembling a little. "I'm waiting for that moment where you'll turn around and yell at me, or smack me, or-" His voice broke, and a few tears slipped from his eyes. He covered his mouth with his hand and shook.

Tenna's face paled a little, but he didn't reach, he didn't pry. He just waited, offering his silent support.

Spamton inhaled a deep breath, then, in a shaky voice, he continued. "I know you wouldn't," he whispered. "You're not like them, Tenna. You're the exact opposite a-and that scares me sometimes." He pursed his lips. "I wouldn't say scare, that's not the right word. But, you know? It's... strange and new, and it freaks me out."

Tenna nodded.

"You're the first person that I've ever told about me, about how I'm gay, about how I'm autistic. The only other people who know are my- my brothers." He shuddered. His head drooped, and he reached out to grasp onto Tenna's hand. "I love you, Tenna. You make me feel safe. You make me feel loved, and seen, and understood. You're trying your hardest to make me happy and comfortable. It's... the most that anybody's ever done for me. Ever."

Tenna squeezed his hand, and Spamton smiled softly at him. "The way you waltzed into my life, I don't think I'll ever forget it," he said. "I want to make things better for you. Even though it's something I've never done before. You make me want to change, you make me want to be better."

"For something you've never done before, you're doing a hell of a good job," Spamton laughed a little. "You always seem to know what to do and what to say. It's a bit startling, to say the least. To go to somebody and be accepted and helped in a way that makes me comfortable."

Tenna sniffled, then wiped at his eyes with a small nod. "I'm really doing things right?" he asked, his voice cracking.

"Tenna," Spamton opened his arms, and Tenna fell in instantly. "You're doing everything right for me."

Tenna heaved a little, a big sigh of relief. "That makes me happy to know," he mumbled into his neck, his arms wrapping around him. "That I'm not fucking up and making things worse."

"I don't think there's anything you could do to make me feel like shit, Tenna," he tried to joke, but the grimace on Tenna's face made him pause and frown. "I mean it. I know that your heart is good, that you're doing your best." He spread his hand out over his chest, right above his heart. He felt it beating unevenly beneath his panels. He clutched the fabric of his shirt, then released it and patted it twice. "Even if you do mess up, I don't think there will ever be a moment where I'm afraid you're going to hurt me."

Tenna nodded, resting his hand atop Spamton's. "I love you," he whispered.

Spamton pressed a kiss to his lips. "I love you, Tenna."

They smiled softly at each other, the final words hanging delicately in the air between them. The moment wasn't perfect, but it was warm, it was comforting. They could stay there forever.

Tenna exhaled, then cupped Spamton's cheek. "Thank you for talking to me," he whispered. "It helps me relax when I know what you're thinking and how you're feeling. I really can't describe how worried I've been. I-I've tried to hide it, for your sake but..." He trailed off with a small frown. "It's been getting harder."

Spamton nodded. "I know. I've seen, I just haven't been able to, you know. Do anything to help you." He gave a shrug and averted his gaze, slightly ashamed. "I'm sorry, Tenna. I'm stressing you out."

"I'd be more stressed if I didn't know how you were," he said. "I wouldn't want for you to go through this alone."

"Yeah," Spamton muttered. "I know."

Another moment of silence passed, then Spamton looked up, giving Tenna eye contact. "Do you want to talk more?"

Tenna gave a haphazard shrug. "I think I'm okay for now. I just want you to be okay, too."

Spamton kissed his knuckles. "I'm okay." He looked towards the backpack. "Do we want to go, now?"

Tenna nodded, a smile coming back onto his face. "Yeah, let's go. Do we want to walk or drive?"

Spamton's eyes went wide. "Walk," he said quickly.

"Alright," Tenna said, kissing his forehead one last time. "I'll get my shoes on."

Spamton blinked, expecting for him to ask. But, when he didn't, he relaxed a little. He grabbed his shoes and fit them on, then grabbed a sweater from his room just in case he got chilly. Tenna put his backpack on, then grabbed a large towel for them to sit on.

They headed towards the front door. Spamton stepped behind Tenna, partially hiding behind his arm, peeking out with ever so slightly wide eyes. Tenna cracked the door open slowly, and Spamton relaxed when there was nobody behind it.

They started to walk down the sidewalk hand in hand. Tenna vaguely knew where the park was, he'd seen it a few times on his drives to and from Spamton's house. So, he led the way, with Spamton trailing along behind him. The air between them was quiet, but comfortable. Their hands swung in time with their steps, and Tenna hummed a tune.

They reached the park after about ten minutes of walking. It was a beautiful area, with wide open grassy fields, a paved path trailing from the entrance to the playground. There was a foresty area off to the side, with plenty of rocks to step or sit on. There weren't too many people around, which helped Spamton relax a little more.

They found a spot in the shade of a large evergreen tree. Tenna laid the blanket out, and they sat close together, hands still clasped. Tenna rummaged through the backpack and pulled out a deck of cards, which made Spamton blink in surprise. "Go fish?" he asked.

Spamton snorted, then held out his hand to accept the cards. "Sure, I'll bite."

Tenna dealt out a hand, then they started to play. He won the first round, which made Spamton accuse him of cheating with a grin on his face. So, they played again. Spamton shuffled this time, but he wasn't too terribly good at it. Instead of the traditional way, he just spread the cards out in a chaotic pile on the blanket, then mixed them around and reformed the deck. He dealt, and they played another round. Tenna won again, earning a sneer and a huff.

They played a few rounds until Spamton finally won, at which point they were getting tired of it. Spamton laid on his back while Tenna put the cards away, and their hands found their ways to each other once again. They gazed up at the soft blue sky, dappled with wispy white clouds, casting small shadows. Spamton smiled a little.

"You know, I've always wanted this one particular fountain pen," he said suddenly.

Tenna hummed and turned his head to him, watching the side of his face as his expression grew fond.

"I can't quite remember the name, but I know what it looks like." He held up a hand and twiddled his fingers, almost as if he was spinning the pen in his grasp. "I told myself that I would buy it once I've earned it, once I've proved that I've earned it."

"You haven't earned it, yet?" Tenna asked.

Spamton shook his head. "No, I don't think so. I don't know what I have to do to earn it, but it's one of those things where, when you know, you know?"

Tenna nodded. "Yeah."

"It has these different sized nibs," he continued, perking up a bit as he spoke of it. "So I can write with different styles. I've practiced calligraphy before, but not much. I want to perfect it, so I can make my handwriting all fancy and shit."

"Your handwriting is great enough as-is," Tenna said.

"Mhm," Spamton shrugged. "I mean, it's normal handwriting. But, what I'm talking about Tenna, is beautiful. I mean, you've had to have seen some calligraphy, right?"

"I've seen it in passing, never been something I paid much attention to," he admitted. "It does look nice."

"It's better than nice, Tenna," Spamton chuckled. "It's an art form. Each letter is a piece of art. Pleasant to look at. Appealing."

Tenna laughed a little. "It's handwriting."

"Oh, you don't get it," Spamton rolled his eyes, but they had a playful glint in them. "You don't see it how I do. But, we can fix that. We'll make a man out of you, yet."

Tenna snorted. "Sure, whatever you say, Spammy. And handwriting is just handwriting."

Spamton squeezed his hand thrice with a puff of air from his nose, amused. He turned back to face the sky. Then, he thought for a moment, and a small pool of dread collected in his stomach. "What's been happening at the studio, Tenna?" he whispered.

Tenna frowned a little. "Mike's been taking the reins. He doesn't know what's going on with you, not exactly. He knows that something happened and that we're both indisposed for the time being. It's... not the best situation, but it'll work. Besides, it's just numbers," he added quietly.

"It isn't just numbers, Tenna," Spamton sat up and looked at him, his eyes full of concern. "That's your life, your everything. You really shouldn't... you can't throw it out for me."

"It's not throwing it out," he protested. "It's just on hold for the moment." He looked away, his screen a little bit more dim. "The stage can wait."

Spamton hesitated, then spoke. "You should go back."

Tenna turned to face him, and he aggressively shook his head. "No, Spams. I'm not-"

"Tenna," he said firmly. "You should go back."

He deflated and shrank down a little, his face scrunching up. "You want me gone?"

"Not gone," Spamton patted his cheeks. "But you need to take care of you. I... I'll be okay. Okay?"

"Come to the studio with me," he said. "You don't have to be on stage, b-but I don't-"

"I don't want to," he shook his head. "You need to let your mind focus on something other than me for a bit. And, I don't want to... to go in a car. Not right now."

Tenna paused for a moment, his frown shifting from upset to confusion. "What happened with the car, Spams?" he asked softly.

Spamton gave a small shrug, his hands trembling ever so slightly. "It's... not a safe spot for me right now."

But, you love cars remained unspoken.

Spamton tensed at the look on Tenna's face, sensing the silent words. "I know, it's just- it's reminding me of a worse time. I'd rather avoid them for now."

Tenna nodded with a quiet, "Okay." He exhaled a deep breath, then nodded again. "Okay. Tomorrow, I'll go to the studio. But, you'll call me if you need anything? Anything at all. I'll come back for lunch a-and I'll come back for breaks-"

"Tenna," Spamton cupped his cheeks, squishing his face a little. "Come back once the day is over. Not during lunch, not during anything. After. You need to take a break." He held him until their eyes locked, and he gave him a soft smile. "I'm okay."

Tenna grasped onto his wrist, then kissed his palms. He surrendered, his shoulders slumping forward. "Okay. But-"

"No buts," Spamton tutted and poked the tip of his nose. "It'll be good for you and for me. I have some things that I need to work through on my own." He averted his gaze. "Things that I don't think I'm ready to share yet."

Tenna nodded, then he dropped his hands. "Okay." He sucked in a breath. "Okay. We'll be okay."

"That's the spirit," Spamton smiled up at him, then cupped his face again and kissed his lips gently. "And tomorrow, once you come home, you can tell me all about it."

Tenna pressed their foreheads together with a small sigh. They fell into comfortable silence, all of their words hanging between them, being absorbed, being understood. Spamton pulled away first, laying down on his back with his arms acting as a pillow for his head. Tenna followed his lead, but he laid his head on his chest, relishing the feel of his heartbeat and the rising and falling of his steady breathing.

Spamton rested a hand on the side of Tenna's head, stroking soothing circles. Tenna relaxed, letting his expression fall neutral. His mind still raced, his anxiety still clawing at his heart. But, he tried to let it fade away, so he could focus on the calm moment.

Spamton's heart. His breathing. His hands. His love. His trust. His voice.

Tenna latched onto all of it, clutching them like lifelines, holding him steady in place, like an anchor on a ship. He breathed. He relaxed. He let the anxiety and stress melt away. He smiled softly, then whispered, "I love you, Spammy."

Spamton answered as easy as breathing. "I love you, Tenna."

Chapter Text

Tenna woke up the next morning filled with dread. When he rolled over onto his side, trying to wrap an arm around Spamton, his eyes shot open. The bed was empty. He sat upright and scanned the room, but, like the day before, he could smell breakfast. He relaxed a little, then got up with a soft grunt and headed into the kitchen. Spamton was cooking the same way as before, swaying to some music playing in his headphones. Tenna smiled softly and stood by the counter, his chin in his hand, just watching.

Spamton caught sight of him out of the corner of his eye and sent him a grin. He pulled off his headphones and pointed to the stove. "Making pancakes and bacon. Haven't had a chance to get to coffee yet, though."

"It's wonderful, Spams, thank you." Tenna crossed over to him and kissed his forehead. "How did you sleep?"

Spamton turned back to the pancakes so they wouldn't burn. "Slept well! I've been sleeping through the night more often, not having as many- uh." He cleared his throat and frowned. "Nightmares."

Tenna deflated. "You could have told me, Spams. I would have helped."

Spamton shrugged and sighed. "It's something that I don't think you could have helped with." He pursed his lips, then scooped the pancakes onto a plate. "Not right then, anyway. Not when I couldn't speak."

"Do you want to talk about it? At all?" he asked.

Spamton made a small noise and shook his head. "Ehh. No."

Tenna nodded, deciding not to push it further. He kissed his forehead again, then he made his way to the coffee machine and started it up. "Do you want any?" he asked, pointing to it.

"Oh, sure," Spamton said.

He continued to make the pancakes as Tenna set up two mugs of coffee. Once he was finished, he placed them on the table beside each other, then he came up behind Spamton, wrapping his arms around his waist. He rested his head on his shoulder and gave a small sigh. "Thank you for breakfast, love."

Spamton turned his head to kiss his cheek. "Of course. It's the least I can do." He nuzzled into him for a moment, then spoke again, albeit a little quieter. "What time are you leaving?"

Tenna frowned, then checked the clock. It was around nine. "I should probably head out soon if I want to be there at a decent time." He sighed, then leaned his forehead on Spamton's shoulder. "You sure you don't want to come?"

Spamton nodded once. "I'll see you tonight, okay? Go eat and get ready. I'll pack you a lunch."

Tenna mumbled something incoherent, then his arms tightened around Spamton ever so slightly. "Can I kiss you, Spam?" he whispered.

"Of course," Spamton answered. He turned his head, expecting a peck on the lips, but was pleasantly surprised when Tenna started to mouth at the crook of his neck. He tilted his head to the side, exposing more of his sensitive skin. Tenna's hands roamed his chest and belly, squeezing bits of his skin between his fingers. He moaned into his neck, and a shiver ran down Spamton's spine. "Tenna," he moaned softly. "Gonna burn the- the pancakes."

Tenna reached around him and turned the burner off. Spamton's face erupted into blush, and he leaned back into Tenna's chest. Tenna scooted them to stand in front of the counter, rather than the stove, then pressed Spamton into the edge of it, bending him over slightly. He kissed his neck a bit sloppier, his tongue pressing into his skin as his teeth grazed against him. His hand trailed up Spamton's chest before grasping his chin with two fingers, tilting his head up and to the side. He dove back in, kissing and sucking more small bruises into his skin.

"I love you," Tenna mumbled into his skin. He pulled away, leaving Spamton's chest heaving, his face burning, his mind fuzzy.

"Hey," Spamton whined, his eyes scrunching up. "Don't be a dick and leave me high and dry," he grumbled, turning his head to glare at Tenna.

Tenna smiled softly. "Giving you something to look forward to tonight."

Spamton's eyes narrowed and he gave a huff of faux-frustration. "Maybe I'll leave you wanting tonight. How's that, hm?"

Tenna chuckled, then ran a hand along his spine, feeling the shudders as he touched. "Sure, love." He pressed another firm kiss to the crook of his neck. "Thank you for breakfast, and for the food."

Spamton whirled around and smacked his arm, then turned the stove back on and continued to cook the pancakes. He glared daggers at him, then gave a huff and turned his back to him. He finished making them as Tenna started to eat, and he sat down to join him. He leaned on his arm. Tenna kissed his cheek. They ate in comfortable silence.

After Tenna was done, he kissed Spamton's lips with another "Thank you," before he headed to the bedroom to get ready. He had to wear some of Spamton's clothes, but he just shrank down and let his magic fix them to his size. He would stop by his own house on the way home, picking up whatever he needed for the time being. He wanted to bring Spamton home with him, but with him being apprehensive about the car, it would be a bit difficult. So, he would wait to bring it up until later. For the time being, he was content to stay wherever Spamton felt safest.

He finished getting ready and headed back into the kitchen area, where Spamton was finishing up packing a lunch for him. He kissed his cheek before grabbing the bag. "Thank you, love."

"Don't worry about me today, okay? If anything happens, I promise that I'll call you." He cupped Tenna's face in his hands, then pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. "Take your mind off me for a while. It'll do you good."

Tenna shrugged. "I don't think I'll be able to."

Spamton nodded. "I know, love. Just try, okay?"

Tenna sucked in a deep breath. "Okay. I'll try."

Spamton smiled at him, then patted his cheek and kissed him again. "I love you, Tenna. I'll see you tonight."

"I love you, Spams," he said softly. He turned towards the front door, grabbing his keys and wallet before he tugged on his shoes. He sent one last glance to Spamton, offered him a small smile and a wave, then he was off.

He got into his car, then he started to drive. He glanced at the lunch that had been packed. He felt an ache in his heart, but it wasn't necessarily a painful one. Just a sad yearning and desperate want.

He wanted to turn the car around and drive right back home, dive right back into Spamton's arms. He wanted to kiss him senseless and worship him for hours on end until he finally realized just how perfect he was. He wanted to hold him tight, whisper his love, smother him with adoration until that was all he knew.

His hands gripped the steering wheel tighter as he drove onto the highway. He exhaled a deep breath, then took the exit that led him to the studio. He parked in the front, then leaned his head forward, breathing for a moment. He was so tempted to pull right back out of the parking lot. His hand instinctively reached for the gear shift. But, he stopped. He gathered his things and got out of the car, putting on a smile.

He walked into the studio, waving to whoever he passed, saying hello's and good morning's all the while. He got a few worried glances, but he shook it off. He made his way to his office, then set his things down. He put the lunch bag into the fridge, then sat at his desk. There was a large stack of paperwork with a sticky-note on top.

Tenna,

Do these when you can

Thx

-Mike

Tenna snorted, then took the sticky-note off and reviewed the top few sheets of paper. Just forms about some more renovations and equipment replacement. Below were a few offers for new celebrity guests to bring on for talk shows, as well as some contestant applications for the game shows.

He looked through the names for the celebrities. Most of them he didn't really recognize, except for some he'd seen in passing, like the ones who had billboards and whatnot. But, one name did stick out. Tenna's heart lurched forward as he snatched the sheet of paper and read it over again and again, just to be sure he was seeing it right.

Oh god, he had to be dreaming.

This had to be a dream!

Tenna slapped himself in the face.

He smacked his hand on the table with a triumphant shout. "Holy shit!" he yelled. He jolted out of his chair with another shout. "Holy shit!" A laugh burbled from his throat, and he snatched the phone from his desk. He called Mike, he didn't know what else to do. Mike picked up, and before he could even say, "Hello, welcome back," Tenna was shouting in his ear. "MIKE! Did you read these?!"

"Uh- read what?" he sputtered. "When did you get back, Tenna? I thought you would-"

"Mike, did you read these," he said again, slower. "The- the- the-" He smacked himself out of the excitement-induced glitch. "Talk show!" he blurted.

"The celebrity options? No, not really. I got a handful yesterday, but just put them on your desk. I thought you would want to be the one to pick and choose," he explained. "Why?"

"MIKE!" he howled into the phone. "METTATON!"

There was a beat of silence, then Mike spoke again, his voice almost hoarse. "What..?"

Tenna made an aggressive hum noise, words were clearly beyond him. He slapped the paper on the desk and smacked it a few times for emphasis.

"Tenna, what the hell are you waiting for?!" Mike demanded. "Respond to that man, get him on the goddamn show!"

"What do you think I'm doing!" Tenna yelled back before he slammed the phone back into the receiver. He sat back down and smoothed his jacket. But, it didn't last for long. He leapt back up onto his feet and started to pace, his face in his hands, the smile so wide that it hurt on his lips. He paced for a few minutes, then shook his hands out and huffed. He snatched the sheet of paper, finding the callback number on the bottom.

He inhaled a deep breath, then sat calmly. He slowly picked up the phone and carefully dialed the number. It rang for a few seconds, which made Tenna's leg bounce in anticipation. He half-expected it to go to voicemail, but then someone answered.

"Mettaton Studios, my name is Alphys, how can I help you?" a voice said from the other line.

"Hello, Alphys! I'm Ant Tenna, calling from TV Time Studios-"

"Oh. My. G-GOSH!" Alphys shrieked. "Mr. Ant Tenna! Wh-what a pleasant surprise! U-uh, Mettaton has been awaiting your call f-for a few days now. He-he would love to talk to you personally!"

Tenna would have blinked if he had any eyes. "Personally?"

"Yes! I-if you could just wait a moment, I-I can transfer you over to him," she said, and Tenna heard the sound of a few buttons being pressed.

"That would be incredible. Thank you, Alphys," Tenna said calmly.

Inside, he was exploding.

He'd been a huge fan of Mettaton for ages. He tuned in for every cooking show when he was younger. He was such a huge inspiration for him to create his own show and, in addition, add a cooking segment every so often. He'd wanted so desperately to be in the live audience, to see him in person, but money never allowed it. Then, he got started with his own studio, and time wouldn't allow it. He felt like he had missed his chance, and should have just taken it, given himself a break, treated himself.

"Alright, you'll be transferred i-in just a moment!" Alphys said cheerfully.

There came a few beeps, then about thirty seconds of hold music. Tenna vibrated in his seat, barely able to contain himself. The moment he heard a voice speak, god, he wanted to implode.

"Hello, Mr. Ant Tenna! A pleasure to receive your call," Mettaton said smoothly.

"Hello! Yes, I'm sorry for not getting back to you sooner, Mr. Mettaton," Tenna said, huffing out a breath. "I've been out of the office for a few days. I just got back today, but your request immediately caught my eye."

Mettaton chuckled. "I know that you've been dealing with some concerning individuals recently, which was one of the reasons why I even wanted to be on in the first place. As a fellow showman, I understand how the media can spin things against you. I've had my fair share of false scandals, and wanted to extend my support to you if you wanted it."

Tenna, again, would have blinked if he had any eyes. "You... pay attention to my studio?"

Mettaton laughed a little. "Who wouldn't, darling? You catch everyone's attention. You're unique and enthralling, I must say. You add a certain charm to the world of entertainment. There's something about you that's so approachable and... comforting, from an outside perspective."

Tenna blushed and haphazardly wiped away the tears forming on his face. "We-well, thank you, Mr. Mettaton. You have no idea how much that means to me."

"Of course, darling. Now, in regards to our proposed partnership," he said.

Tenna cleared his throat. "Yes, of course! I would love to have you on, it would be such an honor. I'd have to get some planning done, but uhm- yes. I would love for you to be on my show."

"Wonderful news!" Mettaton said. Tenna heard a wide smile in his voice, and he couldn't help but smile as well. "I can have my assistant Alphys send you my availability, and we can plan for whenever your schedule allows."

"That sounds great! Thank you so much, you truly have no idea how much this means to me and my studio," Tenna said, a bit softer than he'd meant it. "You're right, it's been... a struggle for a little bit."

"Oh, we've all been there, darling," Mettaton said gently. "The important thing is that you're sticking through it, aren't you?"

Tenna nodded. "Yeah. I am."

"Whenever you're ready, give me another call. We'll fit our schedules together and work it out from there. And, if you ever need any help, you can talk to me, darling. I am always happy to help a fellow showman."

Tenna choked back tears. "Thank you. Thank you so much." He sucked in a breath, then cleared his throat. "Alright. I'll give you a call back soon. Thank you again, Mr. Mettaton."

"Talk soon, darling. Ta-ta."

Then, the call disconnected.

Tenna buried his face in his hands, barely stifling a shriek. He jolted up from his chair and started to pace again, his hand up to his mouth, biting his finger. He wanted to call Spamton, wanted to scream and rant and ramble about the good news. But, he took in a deep breath.

"You'll see him tonight," he muttered. "You'll tell him about it tonight." He calmed a little the more he breathed, inhaling for four, exhaling for four. His mind cleared of the jittery fog, and his hands stopped shaking. He sat back at his desk for a moment, then pursed his lips and stood back up. He crossed over to the door, then headed down the hallway to the breakroom. He got himself another mug of coffee, as well as a donut from a box on the counter. He raised an eyebrow at it, and realized that there was a note written on it in sharpie.

Welcome back, Tenna and Spamton!

He wanted to sob. He set his mug down before he dropped it, then just stared at the box for a long while. It looked fresh, like they purchased not even an hour ago. He sat down in front of it.

And he started to cry.

It was quiet. His sniffles barely made it past the door into the hall. But, then people started showing up.

It was Elnina and Lanino first. They poked their heads in when they heard the sound, then they walked over to him and put their hands on his shoulders.

Ramb and a few Zappers were next. Ramb was about to grumble about the commotion, but the moment he laid eyes on Tenna, he stilled. He sat beside him and gently grabbed his hands, while the Zappers stood to the side.

A gaggle of Pippins bustled in, dragging Battat along behind them, who was carrying a large gift basket filled with goodies and cards with hearts. He placed it in front of Tenna with a small smile, and the rest of the Pippins had wide grins on their faces.

Mike himself sauntered in, a look of concern and sympathy on his face at the sight of Tenna being surrounded. "Give him room, for goodness sake," he said, rolling his eyes.

The group scooted back a little, except for Elnina and Lanino. She wrapped her arms around Tenna as he started to shrink, his cries growing louder, his hands trembling. He leaned into her embrace, shuddering as he tried to calm himself.

Mike stood beside him and put a hand on his shoulder as well. "We missed you, Tenna."

"We know you've been stressed ever since the live event," Lanino said softly. "We wanted to show you how much we care about you, how much you mean to all of us."

Elnina nodded. "You've been dealing with so much. We're always more than happy to take some of it from your hands if you need us to."

"All you gotta do is say the word, boss. We'll come a-runnin," Ramb piped up.

Tenna nodded. He opened his mouth, trying to speak, but all that emerged was a small sound, quiet and pitiful. He shrank a little more. "T-thank you," he whispered between soft cries. He bit back a sob and embraced Elnina tighter. "Thank you so much."

He tried to breathe, but it was just too much. He broke down in her arms, rambling endlessly in words that he himself didn't even understand. He begged himself not to sob in front of his employees. But, once that dam was broken, there was no fixing it.

He cried for a good long while.

He thought of Spamton. He cried for him, for his pain, his fear, his silence. He trembled at the idea of losing him to the dark, to finding him broken and bruised again.

He thought of the studio, of all of the trials and hardships he'd gone through to get to this point. The love, the loss, the fear of losing everything he'd worked for.

He thought of that moment at the bar. It felt so long ago, but at the same time, it was like it was yesterday. It was ingrained in his memory. The excitement, the prospect of something new.

He thought of their first kiss. How that one moment changed the entirety of his life for the better. How it was such a small, perfect moment, yet had such an impact on their future.

He thought of Pink. Malice swelled in his heart, and he cried out of frustration, of fury, of pain and anguish.

His hands clenched around Elnina's sleeves, and his breath hitched in his throat. Her hand rested on the top of his head, stroking soothing circles in a way that reminded him of Spamton. He relaxed into her arms, his cries dwindling down to soft sniffles after a couple of minutes. He inhaled a deep breath, then leaned out of her embrace.

He sighed, then wiped at his face and smiled a little. "Thank you, all of you," he mumbled. He carefully stood, then grabbed his mug of coffee, the donut, and the gift basket, then exhaled. "Well. We'd better get to work, huh? Get this studio back up and running the way it should."

Ramb clapped him on the back twice. "Real good to have you back, Tenna."

"Good to be back!" he said, bringing a smile to his face. He started out of the breakroom, then turned to face the group. He grew back to his original size, his screen brightened up a little. "What are you waiting for? We have work to do!" He snapped his fingers twice, and they all leapt into action.

He made his way back to his office with a pep in his step. He set the gift basket down, planning on opening it up when he got back home, so he could share it with Spamton. Looking at it made his heart grow fond, and he smiled softly at it. He sighed, then put his head in his hands. He shuddered a little, then sucked in a breath and pulled out some more of the paperwork from the stack.

He stood from his desk, then turned on some jazz. He smiled as he recognized the song, then he went to go sit back down. He started on the paperwork, losing himself in the monotony of the task rather quickly.

Before he knew it, his stomach started to rumble. He checked the clock, and it was almost two. He made a small sound, then pushed the paperwork to the side. He made his way to the fridge and pulled out the lunch bag. He brought it back to his desk, then sat and opened it.

Inside was a container of leftovers they'd had the night before, along with some fruits and vegetables. But, what caught Tenna's attention the most was a note. It was folded a few times, so Tenna held it delicately and unfolded it. He teared up as he read it.

Tenna,

I love you. Everything about you is something I love. You're kind and hardworking. You're always there for me whenever I need you, and for that, I'm so grateful. You deserve to take a break. You deserve to take time for you. I know I said that I never wanted to be away from you. I still don't. Asking you to go was hell for me. I wanted to take it back the moment I said it. I want to be in your arms all the time. But, I can't have you losing your mind trying to care for me while I'm stuck in the house all day.

I need to work through some things on my own, but I still don't want you far. I want to be there for you the same way you're here for me. It's just not the right time for that. But once I'm fully better and not so scared of the world, I'll come back and join you at the studio and on screen. I miss it. I really miss being on stage with you. It was so much fun to laugh and joke with you, to talk to the contestants. Hell, even the live show was somewhat fun before my brothers fucked it up.

I love you. I love being around you. You make my days brighter. You make me safe, you make me comfortable. But, you need to take care of you before you can come back and take care of me. Put on a hell of a show, okay?

I love you. I'm yours.

-Spams

It was signed with a heart.

Tenna held the letter close to his chest, inhaling a deep breath so he didn't burst into tears again. He picked up his fork, then he started to eat. He glanced at the phone, wanting to call, wanting to hear his beloved's voice.

But, he didn't.

He would wait. He would focus on himself today. He would see him that night, and he would hold him so close. He could be patient.

He breathed deeply, then continued to eat with a small smile on his face.

He couldn't wait for the clock to strike six.

Chapter Text

Spamton locked the door behind Tenna with a small sigh. He turned to look at the kitchen, his face scrunching up a little. He grabbed his headphones from the counter and turned on some music. It was the same kind of jazz that Tenna listened to. It wasn't his usual choice, but it had grown on him more these last few days. Tenna had been singing and humming them almost constantly, so it was good for calming him down. It made him think of Tenna, which brought a smile to his face.

He headed to the dining table and picked up all of the remaining dishes, then brought them to the sink and washed them. He put them on the drying rack, then wiped his hands on a towel. He tidied up the rest of the kitchen, putting away all the pancake ingredients before wiping down the counters.

Once he was finished cleaning, he headed into the living room. It was a little bit of a mess, blankets were strewn around, some plates were left on the coffee table, and there were random knick-knacks all over the place. He put the plates in the sink to wash them later, then folded the blankets and stacked them on one cushion of the couch. He grabbed the knick-knacks and brought them to his room, except for his spike stim, which he put into his pocket.

He went back into the kitchen to wash the remaining dishes and added them to the drying rack. Then, he stood still for a moment. He scanned the room, looking for any more mess. When there wasn't anything, he frowned.

Well, now what was he supposed to do?

He crossed his arms and leaned on the counter, trying to think. He walked into his bedroom, then nodded to himself. He grabbed a laundry hamper and started to pick up all the clothes from the floor. It didn't matter if they were dirty or not, he was going to wash them anyway. He set it next to the door once it was full, then went into the closet and brought out the vacuum. He paused his music so he could vacuum. He turned it back on once he was finished.

Then, he brought the clothes to the laundry room and started the washer. He checked the time, then made a mental note of when it would be finished so he could swap it. He went back into his room and to his desk. He swept the garbage into a trash bag, then put everything into drawers and reorganized them.

He paused for a moment. Then, he looked up to the wall above his desk. There, proudly displayed on the wall, was a photo of him in front of his newly opened shop. Keys in hand, a wide smile on his face, a Cungadero beside him, shining proudly in the sunlight. The photo was years old. Spamton couldn't even remember how old. But, his signature was on the bottom of the photo, along with the year.

It was five years old.

Had it really been five years?

He reached up to touch.

His fingers came back covered in dust. He rubbed his fingers together and stared at them. He frowned, then wiped his fingers on his shirt. He was about to turn away, when he stopped. He faced the picture again and studied it closer.

He looked at himself. How young he was, how proud, how happy.

He had opened his shop not too long after he'd moved out of his family's house. He was so full of newfound freedom and adventure. He had gone out and bought himself the fanciest whiskey he could get his hands on, the finest cigars, the most expensive suits. All to spite his family, to show them that he was better on his own, so much more successful on his own. He didn't need them. He never needed them. They were the ones who needed him.

They'd caught wind of his success, and they had been furious. They'd demanded to be part of it, because it was his duty as an Addison to be within the family business. It was expectation. It was law.

Spamton had ignored them. He was untouchable! He was fucking rich! They couldn't do anything to him!

And for years, they hadn't. It seemed like they'd truly given up on him, that they'd finally let him go.

He wasn't sure why. Pink had always been obsessed with keeping him under his thumb. Spamton shivered at the thought, of the feeling of Pink's hands on his face, nails in his skin, holding him painful and firm. He thought he would never escape. But, he had. At least, until he waltzed right back into his life, with malice and fury hiding behind fake smiles and forced politeness.

Spamton tore his eyes away from the picture and backed up a few feet. His hands trembled, his nails digging into the skin of his palms. He exhaled a long, shuddering breath, then closed his eyes. He turned his music up louder, but he could still hear Pink's voice in his ears, could still feel his hands on his shoulders, holding him too tight, too painfully.

Vicious words he had said years ago rang out in his mind. His cheeks stung from dozens of slaps whenever he misspoke or misbehaved. His eyes watered with the same tears from when he was young, of terror and desperation. His voice was hoarse from all the screaming, all the crying, all the begging and pleading for him to stop hurting him.

"You're a burden to all of us."

"Our parents left because of you!"

"You've ruined everything!"

"You don't like men, White."

"Come home."

"We miss you."

"We love you."

"We always needed you."

"You're fucking worthless!"

"If you killed yourself, White, I don't think we would even notice you were gone."

"Why didn't you kill yourself? Would have saved us so much trouble."

"Let's take a drive, White. You want to go look at cars? That always calms you down."

Spamton blinked.

He looked to the bedroom door, then he walked into the hallway. He stared at the front door for a long moment. He took off his headphones, then he grabbed his car keys. The jingle made him flinch for a moment, and he clasped his hands around them to keep them silent. He went outside, then he unlocked the car. The beep sent a shiver down his spine.

But, he opened the door anyway. He trembled as he sat inside. He closed the door and inhaled a sharp breath.

Then, he sat.

He tucked his hands under his legs, then he closed his eyes.

He could hear his heart pounding in his chest, could feel it in his throat like it was trying to leap from his body.

He touched the steering wheel. He wrapped his hand around it. He breathed, then slowly opened his eyes.

He heard himself in the backseat, sniffling, crying, struggling against the seat belt.

He looked up in the rear-view mirror to see an image of his younger self. He blinked, and it was gone. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, then looked again.

There he was. He must have been eight or nine at the time. He was squirming in his car seat, one that was a little too small for him. He was always such a small, feeble child. He could still fit in a young child's car seat even up until he was ten. He couldn't undo the buckles either, which he had tried plenty of times before. Pink had caught him once, just once.

And Spamton had never done it again after that.

Spamton closed his eyes, then he flinched when he heard Pink's voice.

"Stop fucking struggling," he snapped. "You're constantly embarrassing me in public, White. You need to stop."

Spamton wailed in protest. He tried to form words, but it only came out as incoherent babbling. He smacked his hands against the armrests of his car seat, his face red, soaked with tears. He pounded his fist against the door and kicked his feet, sobbing.

"I SAID STOP!" Pink whipped around and snatched his wrist, yanking him forward. "If you don't stop fucking crying right now, I swear, I'll take you back home and give you something to fucking cry about."

Spamton tried to rip his hand away, but Pink only yanked it further. He cried out in pain. "St-stop it!" he screamed. "St-stop! It-it hurts, Pink!"

"You know what hurts more, White? Having to leave the goddamn store every single fucking time you don't get what you want. You meltdown and cry, and you make a fool out of me! You know how fucking difficult it is to raise you?!" he hissed between his teeth. "So stop making a scene, stop crying, stop screaming! Be normal, White! Be fucking normal!"

"I-I-I-" Spamton stammered between sobs. "I-I wanna be!"

"You're not acting like it," Pink sneered.

Spamton tried to breathe, but he choked on his tears and cried even harder.

"Do I need to come back there, White? Do I need to shut you up myself? I said stop. Fucking. Crying." He dug his nails into the skin of his small, soft wrist.

Spamton fought harder against him, crying at the pain. "N-no!" he pulled his hand back, and Pink finally let him go. "I-I-I'm trying t-to! B-but you keep hur-hurting m-me a-and I-I ca-an't stop!"

Pink exhaled a deep breath. After a moment, his voice turned calm and his eyes softened. "Do you want to go look at cars, White?"

Spamton's cries hitched, and he squinted at Pink through his tears. He sniffled and wiped his face haphazardly. "C-cars?"

"Yeah," Pink said with a smile. "You like them, don't you? Why don't we drive around and look at cars? Will that help you calm down?"

Spamton stared blankly at him for a moment, then gave a small nod. He wiped his face more, rubbing his snot and tears on his sleeve. He hiccuped.

Pink reached back to pat his knee, and Spamton flinched, whimpering quietly. Pink sighed. "Oh, White. You know I love you. I'm just trying to understand why you're so... different."

Spamton turned his head down, his bottom lip wobbling. "W-why am I different, Pink?"

Pink sucked in a breath. "You're not, White. You're just... learning how to be normal. And what do normal people do?"

"M-make eye contact," Spamton mumbled. "Do-don't cry in the store. W-we don't be r-rude a-and we always listen. We-we never lie."

"That's right! Oh, you're so smart," Pink smiled brightly. "We're still working on it. But, you'll be normal in no time if you keep listening to what I say, okay?" He patted Spamton's knee again. Spamton looked up, and Pink pointed to his eyes. "I love you, White."

Spamton apprehensively gave him eye contact, but it made him want to sob again. He tried to look away, but Pink snatched his wrist, and with a flinch, he continued to look at him. "I love you too, Pink," he forced out, his breath hitching. "Ca-cars?"

Pink nodded. "We'll go look at cars, my sweet boy."

Spamton reopened his eyes, tears forming in the corners. He wiped them away with a huff. "You were just a kid," he whispered, his voice cracking. He drew his knees up to his chest and tucked his face between them. "You were just a kid. You were just a kid."

He sniffled. He whimpered. He dug his nails into his skin.

For a moment, he wanted to scream. He wanted to take a hammer to the windshield, rip out the tires, tear apart the doors. He wanted this car gone. He wanted it ripped to shreds. He wanted everything gone.

He wiped his eyes and breathed. He slowly let his legs down. He reached for the seat belt, but the moment he touched it, he yanked his hand away like it had burned him. "No. No." He shook his head, then he shuddered. He tried again, but he couldn't even touch it this time. "Stop being fucking stupid!" he shouted.

He smacked the side of his head with a frustrated grunt, then reached for the seat belt. He snatched it and started to pull. He couldn't even get it halfway across his body before he let out a yell and dropped it. He clutched at his hair and started to tug, clenching his eyes shut. "It's a fucking car, White! Stop being scared of a fucking car!"

He smacked his head again. "Stupid! Fucking! Idiot! DRIVE THE FUCKING CAR!" His hand shot to his wrist, and he started to scratch at it. "DRIVE THE FUCKING CAR, WHITE!" he shouted as he raked his nails across his skin. "BE FUCKING NORMAL!"

He stopped scratching, then with trembling, unsteady hands, he snatched the seat belt. Before he could even think of what he was doing, he buckled it.

The click made him flinch. He smacked his head again with another sound of frustration. He grabbed the keys and fumbled with them, then he started the car. It purred to life. Spamton's mouth went dry, his throat seized. The car rumbled beneath him. He felt vomit pool in the back of his throat. He yanked the keys out of the ignition and tugged at the seat belt.

It didn't come loose.

Spamton's eyes went wide, and he continued to tug at it. His breath hitched. His heart pounded. "No, no no no!" He started to cry. "Get out! Get out! Let me out let me out let me out! Please, Pink! Let me out!" He screamed. Hot tears poured down his cheeks as he pulled and yanked and tugged. His mind went fuzzy as he jerked and flinched.

His thumb slipped.

The seat belt unbuckled.

Spamton shoved the door open with a cry and slammed it shut. He heaved, then doubled over and vomited onto the driveway. He choked on his tears, then covered his mouth with his hand, barely holding back another bout of bile and vomit. He raced inside the house, shoving the door open and slamming it shut.

He shook like a leaf as he stumbled into the house. He threw the keys to the ground with a sob. They skidded across the floor, smacking into the wall. Spamton flinched at the harsh sound.

"Be fucking normal," he mustered, his hands clutching at his shoulders. He sank to the floor in a heap, sobs tearing through his body. "Be normal, White, b-be normal." His hands shifted to his head, and he covered his face. He sobbed into his palms.

"Please," he mumbled. "Please, be normal. Just... be normal. You love cars. You love cars. Go back to loving cars." His voice cracked as he broke. "You love cars!" he shouted. "Go back to loving cars! You fucking freak!"

He sat up and hit the side of his head. "You're not afraid of them! Go for a fucking drive! Go for a drive. It calms you down."

He forced himself to his feet. He turned towards the keys on the opposite side of the room.

But, he stopped before he could even take a single step. He clenched his eyes shut.

"Stop. Being. Scared." He exhaled a breath. "Stop. Being. Scared."

He took a step. His knees felt like jelly. He stumbled over to the counter, latching onto it for support. His hand passed over something crinkled. He paused and looked.

The note. The ripped up and taped together note.

Spamton hiccuped as he grabbed onto it.

He could barely read the words through his tears. But, he remembered. How could he forget?

He held it close to his heart.

He breathed for a few long moments.

"One day at a time, Spamton," he whispered. "One day at a time." He scrunched his face up. "Don't force yourself. You're fine. You're okay. You're fine. You're okay."

He looked at the note. He read what was still legible. He wiped his eyes with his thumbs and sniffled. He smiled a little.

"I wonder if Tenna has read his yet," he said, a small laugh burbling in his throat. "Cheesy. Stupid. But, he'll love it. He loves cheesy and stupid."

He put the note down and looked over to the keys. He walked to them, bent down, and picked them up. He made his way to the front door, then hung them up on the key holder on the wall. He exhaled.

"One day at a time, Spamton," he repeated, softer than before. He held a hand up to his racing heart. "God, you're a mess," he chuckled bitterly.

He gently placed the note down, then he went into his bedroom. He gathered a fresh set of clothes, then entered the bathroom and started the shower. He undressed, then he caught sight of himself in the mirror.

His eyes were red and puffy. His cheeks were pale and streaked with tears. He looked like a disaster.

But, as his eyes trailed lower, he saw a dark purple mark on his neck. He raised a hand to touch it. It hurt, but just a little. It was a small, dull ache. He couldn't help but smile. "Tenna can barely keep his hands to himself," he mumbled. He trailed his hand down his neck, to his chest, to his belly.

He imaged Tenna standing there behind him, arms around his waist, lips kissing him softly, gently. He muttered words of adoration into his ear as he took him in his hands, holding him like clay, molding him, shaping him, yet being so careful with him at the same time. Spamton watched the mirror, and the image of Tenna faded away. His heart ached. His whole body ached.

He sighed, then stepped into the shower.

He should ask Tenna to bring back some hair dye. The white streaks were upsetting, to say the least. They made him want to scream.

He glanced down at his wrist. It was red and irritated, but not angry or bloody. He gently touched it, and it didn't burn like it usually would have. He pursed his lips together. He was supposed to be feeling better, dammit. Why wasn't he feeling better?

He tilted his head up to the water. It ran down his face and body, hot but comfortable. He rinsed his hair, then he grabbed some shampoo and started to wash it. He wished Tenna was there. He was always so gentle and careful when he washed his hair. It was like his scalp was getting a warm hug. He chuckled at the thought, then rinsed his hair again, washing the soap down the drain. He carded his fingers through his hair, getting out all the loose strands that he could. He dropped them to the floor, and the water stole them away down the drain.

He grabbed the body wash and poured some onto his hand. He scrubbed away all the soreness in his muscles, all the sweat and grime from his skin. He shuddered as he touched his own shoulders, his forearms, his wrists. He washed his face.

He stood beneath the shower head for a few minutes. He stood there until he didn't feel like sobbing. Surprisingly, it didn't take as long as he thought. He blinked.

He felt... fine?

Why did he feel fine?

He turned the shower off and stepped out, grabbing a towel to dry himself off. He looked in the mirror. His eyes were a little less red, but still a bit puffy. He hung the towel up, then he got dressed. He took a brush to his hair, then dried it again to get all the extra water out. He brushed his teeth, then put some lotion on his hands and face. He gave himself a grin, then some finger-guns. He exhaled a deep breath, then stepped out of the bathroom.

He found his headphones, then turned on the same music as before. He found the song that Tenna sang and put it on repeat. He grabbed a pillow and a blanket from the couch, then laid on the living room floor. He closed his eyes.

As the song played, all he could hear was Tenna's voice. All he could feel were his hands. All he thought of was them dancing together in the middle of the room, smiling softly, hands clasped together as they swayed.

Maybe he would ask Tenna to dance with him once he got home from work.

Maybe he would ask him to make chicken Alfredo for dinner that night.

Maybe he would make it himself, do something nice for Tenna. It would get his mind off things.

But, for now, he was tired.

So, he slept.

Spamton was vaguely aware of the front door opening. Light streamed in through it, and his eyes scrunched up before they opened. He sat up with a groan, then he paused his music and squinted. He saw Tenna coming inside, carrying a bag, a basket, and a really long box. Spamton raised an eyebrow, then he stood and went to greet him.

"Hi, Spammy," Tenna said with a grin. "You have a package. It's as tall as you!" He chuckled.

Spamton paused and blinked at it. His face lit up, and he grabbed it from his hands. "It's for you, actually."

Tenna tilted his head in confusion. "What could you have possibly gotten that's as tall as you?"

Spamton grinned. "Well, open it." He handed it back to Tenna as soon as his other things were placed on the table.

Tenna pursed his lips, then laid it on the table and tore off the tape. Inside the box was another box, but it was more sleek, white, and had a logo on the front. Spamton latched onto his arm and peeked around it, vibrating in excitement. Tenna pulled the box out, then opened the top.

He froze as soon as he saw it. He dropped the box and turned, holding the item in his hand.

It was a long, slender yet sturdy cane. It was a smooth, pristine red, with a golden handle and a black rubber tip on the bottom. Tenna's breath hitched as he placed it on the ground. It was roughly the height he needed, just a little short. He lifted it up, then found the adjustment section, and fixed it to his height. He placed it on the ground again.

He choked back tears. "Sp-Spammy, you-"

Spamton grasped onto his hand and guided it to his heart. "I... really didn't like seeing you struggle that much," he said softly. "I know that if it happened again, I wouldn't always be there to help. So, I wanted to do something that would help." He looked up, a warm smile on his face. He saw the tears in Tenna's eyes, and he beckoned him down.

Tenna crouched, his lips trembling. He wrapped his arms around Spamton, shoving his face into his shoulder. He shook as he cried quietly. "N-no one's ever tried to help me before," he whispered. "They all just- just... don't bother."

Spamton nodded and held him close, his thumbs stroking circles on his back. "I have you, Tenna. I promise. I know you don't want me to touch your wires or heart. So, I'm doing what I can. I-I hope it's enough."

"Spammy, it's plenty," Tenna sniffled with a small laugh. "More than anything anyone else has ever done."

Spamton let out a small breath, then kissed Tenna's cheek and cupped his face. "I love you, Tenna."

Tenna surged forward, kissing his lips with a sudden vigor that he wasn't really expecting. "I love you, Spams," he muttered.

Spamton leaned into him, his hands pulling his face closer. "I missed you today," he said softly. "How was work?"

Tenna smiled sloppily. "Really good." He kissed him again, his hands landing on his waist. "Missed you too."

"Mhm, tell me what happened, I'm curious to know," Spamton grinned, a teasing glint in his eye. He slowly lifted Tenna's hands off his waist, much to his dismay.

Tenna pouted a little, then sighed. But, it didn't last long, because his giddiness returned. "We're preparing for a really big celebrity to come on for the talk show. He reached out, and we're planning for it to be next week."

"Well, who is it?" Spamton asked.

"Mettaton."

If Spamton had been drinking, it would have gone all over Tenna. "W-what?!" he sputtered. "T-the- the Mettaton?!"

"Yes!" Tenna clapped his hands together gleefully. "The Mettaton, Spams!"

"That- that's fucking incredible, Tenna," he ran a hand through his hair, eyes wide. "That's so fucking cool."

Tenna shook his hands out and hopped in place for a moment. "So nerve-wracking though. He's my idol, the whole reason why I even started TV Time! I wanted, and I still do want, to be like him."

Spamton's smile turned soft, and he cupped Tenna's cheek. "That's so great. I'm really happy for you, Tenna. So, today must have been incredible, huh?"

Tenna nodded. "Oh!" He grabbed the gift basket from the table and presented it to Spamton. "The uh- the crew made this for us. As a welcome back gift."

Spamton's lips wobbled at the sight of his name on an envelope. "Oh." He wiped his eyes and huffed. "That's really sweet."

"They can't wait for you to come back, too," Tenna said. "They miss you."

Spamton chuckled a little. "I miss them too. And the stage. I... want to go back," he added quietly. "I-I just- I can't."

"You take all the time you need, okay?" Tenna placed the gift basket back down, then kissed his forehead. "The stage will be ready for you when you are."

Spamton nodded. "Thank you, Tenna." He sighed, then turned towards the kitchen. "Oh, I'd meant to make dinner." He crossed his arms and tapped his fingers against his bicep anxiously. "Let's order pizza."

Tenna snorted. "Alright, love. We'll get pizza."

Spamton made his way to the couch while Tenna made a quick order. It would be there soon. So, they sat together until it got there, holding each other close under a blanket. Spamton curled up into a small ball and laid on Tenna's chest, his face squished against him.

When there was a knock on the door, Spamton flinched. But, Tenna carded his fingers through his hair and kissed his forehead, whispering softly to him. He relaxed as Tenna stood to get the pizza.

He wanted to smack himself upside the head, wanted to curse himself out for being stupid. But, he stayed quiet, stayed still.

Tenna brought the pizza back to the couch and they laid back as they ate, putting on a movie in the background. They didn't pay attention. Spamton was too distracted to pay attention.

He found himself craving Tenna's touch a bit more than usual. He blamed it on the teasing from earlier that morning, because if it was anything deeper than that, Spamton didn't want to think about it.

So, once they finished the pizza, a grin overtook Spamton's face. His hand rested on Tenna's chest, then it started to scoot up. He noticed Tenna was still wearing his tie. He grinned even wider.

Spamton latched onto the tie. Tenna made a small noise and turned his attention to him, face scrunched up in confusion. He was about to speak, to ask if he needed anything, when he saw that gleam in his eye. He fumbled for the remote and turned off the television.

Spamton slowly leaned onto his back, dragging Tenna along with him. He stumbled forward at the shift, his hands finding purchase on the couch on either side of Spamton's head. Their eyes never once left each other. Spamton kept a firm grip on his tie, then yanked him down another inch. Tenna's hand cupped the side of his face, his thumb stroking his cheek.

Spamton tilted his head up and to the side, exposing some of the dark purple bruises that Tenna had left behind. He sucked in a breath, then swallowed thickly. His cheeks flared red, and he leaned down, pressing his lips to the crook of Spamton's neck.

The response was immediate. Spamton pulled his tie, forcing him closer, as his other hand wrapped around the back of his neck. His legs came up onto the couch, slotting themselves around Tenna's waist. Tenna adjusted so he was sitting up on his knees. He kissed his neck, relishing the vibrations from his throat as he moaned softly.

"Tenna," Spamton mumbled. "Please. Fuck me. Please."

Tenna shuddered at the words. He mouthed at his neck with frantic desperation, his tongue licking thick, wet stripes from his collarbone to his jaw. "Fuck," he moaned out. "You want me, baby?"

"Yes," Spamton breathed, his heart fluttering in his chest. "Want you so bad. Wanted you all day."

"Mh-hm?" Tenna hummed, his hands roaming Spamton's chest. He started to lift his shirt, then paused. "This okay?"

"Tenna," Spamton cupped his cheek. "I need you to fuck the life out of me tonight. Okay? Don't be gentle."

Tenna tensed a little. "I-I don't want to hurt you."

Spamton's eyes softened. "You won't. I know you won't." He guided Tenna's hands to his throat, letting them rest there. "You could never hurt me, Tenna."

Tenna swallowed again, his screen a bright pink. He nodded, then trailed his hands back down to the hem of his shirt. He lifted it up over his head, the angle a little awkward, but they made it work. He shrank down, then ducked his head and peppered kisses all along Spamton's belly. He kissed up his chest, then found his nipple and wrapped his lips around it.

Spamton's breath hitched, and he arched his back into the touch. He let out a sharp moan as he felt Tenna take his nipple between his teeth, gently biting it. A small flicker of pain shot up his body, and he squirmed as his cock grew painfully hard in his pants. "T-Tenna," he mustered. "Please, please."

Tenna moaned around his nipple, then retracted for a moment so he could yank off his pants and boxers. Spamton gave a shuddering sigh as he was laid bare on the couch, face already a mess of fluster and pleasure. Tenna haphazardly stripped himself, then dove back in to him, kissing and licking and sucking his delicate white skin. "Spams," he muttered. "Love you. Love you so much."

He captured his lips in a bruising kiss. He licked his bottom lip, then pressed his tongue into his mouth. Spamton eagerly sucked on it with an embarrassing pop, but none of it mattered. He tilted his head back and moaned into Tenna's mouth, then gagged a little as his tongue was shoved down his throat. Tenna ground his hips against Spamton's, their cocks rubbing together, the friction too much to handle, yet too little at the same time.

Tenna broke away with a gasp, shuddering at the strands of saliva connecting their lips. He grinned, then brought a hand to Spamton's mouth. He pushed his thumb into his tongue, and Spamton instantly wrapped his lips around the digits, his hand latching onto his wrist. He bobbed his head around them, moaning and soaking them in saliva. "Fuck, you look so good like that," Tenna breathed.

Spamton moaned at the praise and sucked on them harder, his tongue swirling around them. Tenna pushed them deeper into his throat, making him choke just a little. Spamton's eyes watered at the intrusion, but he continued to lick and suck. When Tenna pulled his fingers out, they were dripping in saliva. He gathered some from his chin onto his thumb, then brought his fingers down to his asshole.

"Safeword, love?" Tenna whispered.

"C-cut," Spamton muttered.

"Good boy," he kissed his neck, then his jaw, then his lips. He pressed a finger inside his asshole and swallowed the subsequent moans. Spamton's hands flew up to his shoulders as he began to thrust. His eyes squeezed shut as he moaned, his back arching into the pleasure. Tenna sped up, eliciting lewd, wet sounds as his hand slapped against his skin. "You're so good like this," he said softly. "Being fucked open by me, making so many pretty noises."

Spamton whined, his mouth dropping open. He peeked his eyes open, and he melted at the look of pure love and adoration on Tenna's face. He was watching him intently, searching for any pain or discomfort, even as he added a second finger and carefully split them apart. Spamton moaned brokenly, his fingers squeezing his shoulders, nails digging into soft silicone.

Tenna leaned forward, mouthing at his neck as he added a third finger. Spamton's breath hitched and he made a strangled sound, so Tenna slowed just a little. His thrusts didn't stop, but became softer, more purposeful. The tension in Spamton's body released, and he gave a low moan and a nod. "Good," Tenna said with a smile. "So good for me." His fingers sped up again, and he lifted Spamton's lips, getting a better angle. He grazed against his prostate, and Spamton let out a cry, his hips bucking upwards, his cock leaking, and so painfully hard. "Oh, love," Tenna sighed. "Always so needy."

He captured Spamton's lips in a kiss as he pulled his fingers away. Spamton writhed and whined, his hips trying to chase the pleasure. He ground against Tenna's cock, trying to fuck himself on it, which made him chuckle. "You want for so much," he mumbled. He brought his fingers back to Spamton's mouth. "Spit."

Spamton dropped his mouth open and let his saliva droop onto Tenna's fingers. He was rewarded with a kiss, then Tenna coated his cock in the makeshift lube. "Tell me if it's too much, love. I'll move when you use your words."

Spamton whined, and gave a nod. "O-okay," he moaned. He received another kiss, then Tenna shifted. He moved both of them so he was standing in front of the couch instead of sitting, and Spamton's legs were wrapped around his waist. He braced himself on the back of the couch with one hand, and with the other, he guided his cock to his asshole. He captured Spamton's lips in a kiss, then pressed the tip of his cock inside.

The stretched made Spamton's breath hitch but in the best way possible. He squirmed as Tenna bucked his hips a few times, getting himself adjusted. "G-good," Spamton mumbled, barely coherent. He wondered if he had even spoke at all, or just made a strangled noise of pleasure.

But, when Tenna eased in a little more, all thoughts left his mind. He let out a loud moan and arched his back. His hands floundered between Tenna's shoulders and the couch beside him. He scrunched his face up, whining. "M-more."

Tenna bottomed out in a few deep thrusts, then grunted as he was fully inside. He lifted a hand to Spamton's face and cupped his cheek, then guided their lips into a kiss as he started to move. He pulled out halfway, then eased back inside at a slow, steady pace. But, Spamton was getting impatient.

"Tenna," he moaned out, his hands latching onto his shoulders. "Fuck me like you mean it. Make me cry, make me forget my fucking name."

Tenna hesitated for a moment, then he kissed him. "Anything you need, love."

The softness made Spamton want to cry.

But, it was replaced with a sudden shove into his asshole. Tenna's cock struck his prostate with brutal force, and his pace quickened. Spamton pressed himself deeper into the couch, his voice stolen from his throat. Moans spilled out, desperate, needy, high-pitch, and broken. He gritted his teeth as Tenna snatched him by the waist, pulling him closer. He wrapped his legs around him tighter and bucked his hips.

Tenna's hand wrapped around his cock, and Spamton saw stars. He let out a long whine, then shrieked as Tenna's hand jerked him in tandem with his quick, powerful thrusts. He grunted as he loomed over him. He captured his lips in a bruising kiss, biting down and shoving his tongue down his throat. Spamton sobbed into him as tears pricked his eyes. Tenna kissed them away before diving into his neck, overwhelming him with bites and firm kisses.

He latched onto the crook of his neck, using it as leverage as he ground into him, his cock splitting him wide open. He fucked him like he had something to prove. Spamton moaned like he had nothing to lose. Tenna let out a low groan as heat rapidly pooled in his belly. Spamton clenched tightly around him, his hands clutching the couch like a lifeline as his asshole was mercilessly fucked. He tried to speak, tried to say anything, but all he could do was moan and take what he was given.

It was so much. It was almost too much.

Then, Tenna wrapped his lips around his nipple again and gave a hard suck. It nearly sent Spamton over the edge. He arched his back and pleaded, his words jumbled together and formed something completely incoherent. He moaned and whined and writhed on his back. His legs tightened around Tenna's waist, pulling him impossibly close. Tenna kissed his chest, sucking more purple bruises that would take days to fade. He moaned into his skin, then attacked his neck with brutal kisses that made Spamton's vision go white.

His hand furiously jerked Spamton's cock, his thumb swiping along the tip, spreading the oozing beads of precum, using it to ease the frantic slide. Spamton sobbed as his body felt nothing but pleasure. It was so overwhelming, he felt like he was going to explode at any minute. He sputtered something that vaguely sounded like, "Yes yes yes!"

Overwhelming heat pooled in his gut. His hips bucked desperately into Tenna's hand. He wailed as he was taken. His moans breached the octave, and he shrieked as he came. But, Tenna continued to thrust into him, his screen flickering. His pace faltered for a moment, then with a few more deep, powerful thrusts, he came. He shuddered and moaned as he leaned forward, his lips landing delicately on Spamton's neck.

The contrast was excruciating. Spamton's body twitched and shuddered as it tried to recover. His mind was filled with so much fuzz, he couldn't even tell if he was alive anymore. Tenna sank down to his knees, his chest heaving as his legs gave out. He leaned his cheek on Spamton's thigh, pressing soft butterfly kisses to his skin.

Spamton gasped softly as he struggled to breathe. He lifted a hand to his neck, feeling a small, wet spot. He brought it into the light. His fingers were dotted with blood. He chuckled, then clutched his fist and held it to his heart. He tried to speak, tried to ask for Tenna to get his ass back up on the couch and hold him. But, his voice was gone. He patted his head instead, then pointed to the spot next to him.

Tenna took a moment, still catching his breath, before he scooted up and opened his arms. Spamton fell in instantly.

"Oh, fuck," Tenna mustered. "What a workout."

Spamton snorted. Then, Tenna made a strangled sound of surprise.

"Spammy, you're bleeding! Oh, oh shit, did I do that?" He started to scramble upwards, going to get the bandages, but Spamton caught his wrist and yanked him back down.

"I'm fine," he mustered, his voice hoarse. He winced a little, but he smiled nonetheless. "You could never hurt me, Tenna."

"B-but I-I-" he stammered. Then, he saw the look on Spamton's face. His eyes were half-lidded, his smile was sloppy, loving, adorable. He relaxed back onto the couch. "Come here." He patted his chest. Spamton happily wrapped his arms around him, moving onto his lap. Tenna kissed the bloodied spots, and Spamton moaned a little. "You liked that?"

"Mh-hm," Spamton nodded. "It hurt. But, it didn't at the same time." Tenna made a small noise, but Spamton kissed his lips. "I liked it, Tenna."

"Okay," he whispered. He smiled a bit. "I... think I liked it too. Being a bit more rough."

Spamton grinned. "Good, because that felt incredible, and I'm gonna need you to do it more often."

Tenna made a surprised sound, then he blushed. "I'd like that. I..." He mumbled something that Spamton couldn't quite understand.

"What's that, love?" he asked, leaning in closer to hear better.

"I-I really like being... intimate. With you," he said, his voice dripping with embarrassment. He averted his gaze bashfully. "You just always make me feel so... good. Not even in a pleasure sense, just... good in general."

"Don't be bashful, Tenna. You had your cock in my ass not two minutes ago," Spamton rolled his eyes and laughed. Then, he exhaled a happy sigh. "You make me feel good, too. The praise and your consideration. Makes me feel loved. Really makes me feel loved."

Tenna sighed into his neck. "That makes me happy, Spams."

There was a moment of comfortable silence, then Tenna spoke up again. "Do you need anything? I can bandage that up if you need me to."

Spamton thought for a moment, then nodded. "And water?"

Tenna nodded. "Of course, love."

He stood up and after a quick kiss, got what Spamton needed. After he drank some water, Tenna bandaged up the surprisingly numerous amounts of broken skin. He kissed them all as a sheepish apology, then he got him a small snack. He was about to sit back down when he noticed the absolute mess that they'd made of the couch. Blood, saliva, cum. He blushed. "U-uh. Uhm. I'll clean the couch tomorrow. Why don't we go to bed, love?"

Spamton snorted. "Alright. Warm up some washcloths to clean us up, I'll be there in a moment."

"Right away, boss," Tenna saluted, which made Spamton laugh again.

He took his time standing up. His legs felt like absolute jelly, so he used the coffee table for balance. He made his way into the bathroom, where Tenna was putting some washcloths under warm water. They got cleaned up and dressed in some boxers, then they collapsed to Spamton's bed. He curled up between Tenna's arms with a happy sigh, then he closed his eyes.

After a moment, Tenna spoke up. "I realized, Spams. I never asked how your day was."

Spamton pursed his lips, then he shrugged. "I'm getting better, Tenna," he smiled softly. "I really think I'm getting better."

Chapter Text

It was easy to settle into the new routine, which came as a surprise for Spamton. Normally, changes made him upset and anxious. And while that was partially true, it also felt nice to have the house to himself while Tenna was away at work. But, he still cherished the time they spent together, perhaps even more so within the past week since Tenna started to go back.

He got up early to make breakfast in the morning, listening to his music while he swayed along to the beat. He'd really taken a liking to Tenna's jazz, which was something he'd never really expected. He hadn't ever been adverse to this music, but it had grown on him more lately. Tenna's tastes were rubbing off on him. He didn't mind. He liked sharing interests with him. It gave them something more to connect over.

While Tenna was at work, Spamton spent his time cleaning. It kept his mind busy, and he found himself not lost in thought so much. The more he cleaned, the more easily his brain shut off, and he went on auto-pilot. It was soothing, and the work always paid off in the end. He was feeling better, his chest was lighter. He didn't overthink every single detail, because cleaning was so simple. It was either clean or it wasn't, no ifs, ands, or buts about it.

When Spamton was done cleaning, he would relax on the couch for a little while. Or, he would take a nap on the living room floor, depending on how he was feeling. If he was restless, he would take a walk through the park, maybe sit on a bench and eat lunch there if the weather was nice. It was peaceful. He felt like he didn't have to put on a brave face. He could just sit with the birds, the wind, the sun.

At around five, he would start making dinner. He was getting better at cooking the longer he stayed with Tenna. He still couldn't follow really complex recipes, but he was branching out and trying new things. He didn't only eat buttered noodles and grilled cheese. He was trying things that extended past his comfort zone, but always had a back-up plan in case he hated it. Which wasn't too terribly often, but it did happen.

But, his favorite part of the day was when Tenna came home. They would eat dinner together, while they laughed and talked. Tenna would ramble about his day, how the talk show or game show had went, and what plans they had for the next ones. Spamton opened up to him more. Not much, but it was still a huge step forward. He asked for help. He asked for Tenna to be there when he tried to drive again. And of course, Tenna had said yes.

About a week passed before Spamton finally had the courage to pick up his keys again. He would sit in the driver's seat, clutching the steering wheel tight. He heard Pink's voice shouting at him to be normal. But, Tenna would gently touch his hand, and the voice would fade away.

It took another week for him to buckle his seat belt. Each time he tried, he trembled. Touching it felt like fire. Pulling it was like trying to drag a freight train with a frayed rope. But, Tenna's hands guided him gently. If he pulled away, Tenna would retract as well. If he didn't, he helped him buckle. If he wanted out, Tenna would unbuckle him. But, when he was buckled, they sat there for a long while until Spamton wanted to take a break. Sometimes they talked, sometimes it was silent. Slowly but surely, Spamton was able to buckle himself.

It took one more day before he was able to drive again. With Tenna in the passenger's seat, Spamton drove to the store. It was only a five-minute drive, but his heart was pounding out of his chest the entire time. Tenna spoke to him softly, told him how well he was doing, how proud he was of him. He drove back home to drop off the groceries. Then, he asked if Tenna would be with him to take a slightly longer drive, down to to the park. They ended up driving for thirty minutes. Tenna talked him through it, hand on his shoulder. Spamton felt good by the end of it. It was almost frightening how good he felt about it.

So, he went to work the next day. He surrounded himself with his cars, and he had never felt more at home. He buried himself chest-deep and worked on one for hours. When he got home that night, he was sweaty, covered in grease, and had the biggest grin on his face.

On game show nights, he was at the studio, laughing and chatting with whoever stopped to say hi. He brought light back to the stage, and it welcomed him with open arms. Contestants shook his hands with vigor and bright smiles, expressing just how much they were glad to see him back. It almost made him tear up on stage.

He started appearing on talk shows as well. He had a chair next to Tenna's desk, and actively took part in whatever conversation was being had. He cracked jokes, he laughed, he smiled.

Things were going perfectly. Everything was finally, finally settling into place.

Spamton never thought his life would have turned out like this. Part of him was still stuck in the mind of his fifteen-year-old self, gazing longingly at the prospect of freedom, hoping and praying for a sense of safety and security.

Spamton sent a glance up to Tenna, who was humming while filling out some paperwork. They were sitting in his office, whiskey and wine in hand, reviewing the script for the upcoming Mettaton special. Tenna was focused on making everything perfect, so that gave Spamton plenty of time to work on his blueprints. Since Tenna didn't know the first thing about cars, Spamton could work on his surprise right in front of him and he would be none the wiser. He grinned as he added some more notes to the margins.

It was coming along perfectly. Spamton had already started experimenting with some of the older models, replacing some of their seat mechanics and such. It was a lot of trial and error, but it was just the thing he needed to keep himself busy, even more busy than he already was. He knew it would take months to finish, but it would be so worth it to see that look on Tenna's face. He smiled softly to himself. Maybe it could be his anniversary gift to him.

Despite being so busy with the show and their projects, Spamton and Tenna always made time for each other. This was one of those moments, where they would sit in each other's company, with the occasional bit of conversation. But, it was the proximity that Spamton relished the most. The ability to just sit and be comfortable in silence with Tenna was one of the things he loved about him the most. There weren't any expectations. There wasn't any pressure. Just understanding. Spamton took a sip of his whiskey, then patted Tenna's hand. Tenna looked up and offered him a warm smile. He squeezed his hand thrice, then they both went back to work.

After work, they took turns making dinner. If they were too tired, they went out. They found a new favorite place, and constantly went there for lunch, if they had the time. Their sandwiches were to die for. Spamton quickly found a favorite and ordered that every single time they went: a ciabatta cheesesteak with potato chips and an iced tea. Tenna bounced around for a bit, he liked to switch it up every so often. He'd tried pretty much everything on the menu before settling on a chicken pesto ciabatta dipper with a large caramel latte as his go-to.

No matter where they went, or what they ate, they always laughed and chatted and joked together. They would end the night with some time on the couch, drinks nearby, relaxing and unwinding. They finished Lovers Mountain and moved onto something even more stupid. A book by the same author, Lovers Ranch. Tenna had picked it out with a grin and a cheeky comment about cowboys.

When they grew tired, they curled up next to each other in bed. Tenna's arms would always be around him, his lips on his forehead, lightly kissing. Spamton was plastered to his chest, hands latching onto his shirt, his ear resting above his heartbeat. It was always the perfect way to end a long day.

Spamton let out a small sigh, then took another drink of his whiskey. He smiled. At what, he wasn't sure. Just things in general, perhaps.

His mind wasn't such a whirlwind any longer. He hadn't seen or heard from his brothers in weeks. It was a little nerve-wracking, but at the same time, Spamton was relieved. He felt free again for the first time in a long time. Free from the shackles of his family, free from the fear, free from the pain. He glanced back up at Tenna, who was already looking at him with a fond smile. Spamton huffed an amused breath from his nose. "What are you looking at?"

Tenna chuckled, then cupped his face and stroked his thumb along his cheek. "You're cute when you're concentrating."

Spamton snorted and blushed, then pushed Tenna's hand away with a mumble of embarrassment. "Yeah yeah, whatever. Not too bad yourself, big guy."

Tenna carded his fingers through his hair, his smile still soft and fond. "I'm almost done here. What do you want for dinner?"

Spamton grinned. "I'm in a Panera Bread mood tonight."

Tenna rolled his metaphorical eyes. "Of course you are. You've been obsessing over that place."

"I can't help it!" Spamton whined. "It's so good!"

"Eating me out of house and home, I swear," Tenna huffed with a grin.

"Just eating you out," Spamton winked.

Tenna's mouth dropped open, and his screen flushed a bright red. "The- the door's open, Spams!"

Spamton hummed, a cheeky grin on his face. "Okay. And?" He stood from his seat, then sauntered over to the door and pushed it closed with one finger. He locked it, then sent a glance back at Tenna, who was furiously blushing at this point. He wandered back over to the desk, then leaned on his hand, using the other to grasp Tenna by the tie. He guided their lips into a gentle kiss, and Tenna melted beneath his hands.

He dropped his pen, then grasped onto Spamton's waist and pulled him onto his lap. Spamton made a small noise of surprise, then wrapped his legs around Tenna's waist, getting himself settled in. Tenna peppered his face with kisses, his hands raising to carefully unbutton his jacket. But, Spamton grasped onto his wrists and slowly pulled them away. He grinned, his eyes sparkling. He hummed. "No, I think I'll make you wait."

Tenna sputtered, a look of defeat crossing over his face. He pouted and gave a quiet huff. "Fine," he said dramatically. Spamton went to kiss him again, but he put a finger to his lips. "I'll make you wait as well."

Spamton scoffed. "Fine!"

"Fine!"

But, neither of them moved.

After a tense moment of staring each other down, they broke into laughs. Tenna kissed Spamton's lips, his hands returning to his waist. "It seems we're at an impasse."

"Hurry up and finish your work, Tenna," Spamton said, a hint of impatience in his tone. "I'm hungry."

"Hmm, do I want to, though? Maybe, I'll bring it home with me. Work on it there too," he teased.

Spamton rolled his eyes. "Makes no difference to me. I'll just keep the bedroom door open while you work. But, I won't let you in. Won't let you touch." He sat up on his knees so he was more eye-level with Tenna. He placed his hands on his shoulders and stared him down. "I wouldn't keep myself waiting for you."

Tenna's grip tightened on him. "You cheeky little bastard."

Spamton kissed his lips. "Only for you, love. Now, you hurrying it up or what?"

Tenna pouted, then kissed him again. "Work can wait."

"That's a good boy," Spamton patted his cheeks, then slipped off his lap and started to gather up his blueprints.

"What are you working on, anyway?" Tenna asked as he did some last minute sorting and filing for his own paperwork. "You giggle and mutter to yourself all the time with that thing. Car parts can't be that funny, Spams."

"You don't get it," Spamton sighed dramatically. "You'll never understand the allure of distributors and spark plugs."

Tenna chuckled and shook his head. "No love, I will not."

They finished packing up their things, and with one last kiss, headed out to the parking lot. They went into their respective cars and drove home. Spamton missed riding in the passenger seat, but it was too much of a hassle to leave one car wherever and take the other home. So, with a sigh, he dealt with the silence. Besides, the drive home was short. He parked in the garage next to Tenna's car, then he headed inside.

Tenna was in the bedroom getting changed into some more comfortable clothes. Spamton gave him a kiss before he started to do the same. He could feel Tenna's gaze on him, and he sent him a cheeky side-glance. He turned towards him to lift his shirt above his head, but the moment Tenna tried to touch, he clicked his tongue. "No, sir. Buy me dinner first."

Tenna stared at him for a long moment. "You're so mean to me."

"You're just impatient." He blew him a kiss, then finished getting changed. "I'll be downstairs." He left, and Tenna wasn't far behind him. They climbed into Tenna's car, where their hands immediately found each other in the center console. Spamton squeezed thrice, and Tenna did the same. Spamton smiled, then he blushed a little. "You ever think about what would have happened if you never talked to me that night?"

"All the time," Tenna said softly. "I think about how... I almost lost everything." He squeezed Spamton's hand again, then sent him a warm smile. "But, I got everything that I could have ever wanted out of it."

Spamton's cheeks flared even more red, and he slouched in his seat. "Everything you wanted?"

"Everything," Tenna said. "I got my show back. I got my spark back. Things made me excited again, and I got to hear the roar of the crowds like it was brand new. And, most importantly, I got you."

Spamton squirmed a little in his seat, his smile sloppy, and his eyes half-lidded. Then, his expression went still for a moment. "Even with everything that happened," he whispered a bit apprehensively. "You don't regret it?"

Tenna exhaled a slow breath, then shifted to face Spamton. He cupped his cheek and turned his head so their eyes met. It was natural for Spamton to give him eye contact. It made him feel safe, loved, heard. It wasn't ever forced. It was a gentle question with no wrong answer. He leaned across the car to plant a firm kiss to his forehead. Spamton melted at the gesture. "I will never regret anything when it comes to you, Spam."

Spamton scrunched up his face, then gave a small nod. "I-I don't either," he whispered. "I just wish- I wish it didn't happen in the first place. I never..." he trailed off, his lips pressing into a thin line. "I just- you know."

"I know," Tenna nodded as he kissed his forehead again. "You'll never have to see them again, Spams. Never."

Spamton gave a shuddering sigh, then he nodded. "You're right." He leaned back in his seat, then a smile returned to his face. "Thank you, Tenna. For everything."

"Thank you for hearing me out," Tenna started the car, then pulled out of the garage. He turned onto the road, then started to drive. "For taking pity on a sad, broken man."

"Who?" Spamton asked, and he brought Tenna's hand to his lips for a kiss. "All I saw was a man doing his absolute best."

Tenna's cheeks tinted pink. "And I saw my future ahead of me." Spamton's hand tightened around his with a sharp inhale. When Tenna glanced over at him, he saw small tears in his eyes. He stroked his thumb across his skin in soothing circles. "Hey," he said softly. "I mean it."

"I know," Spamton wiped his eyes. "You always mean it. All that sappy stuff that makes me feel like jelly."

Tenna chuckled. "You love it."

Spamton snorted. "Who says?"

"Your face."

"My face says nothing! You're reading too many stupid romance books. You're getting too lovey-dovey."

"You're the one who brought it up first, okay?" Tenna grinned. "So technically, it's your fault for making me this way."

Spamton rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say, big guy."

"You know I'm right."

"Yeah yeah, sure."

They pulled up to Panera Bread. Tenna parked the car and was about to get out, when Spamton held on tighter to his hand. He looked Tenna in the eyes and gave him a smile. "Really, Tenna. Thank you."

Tenna reached over and cupped his cheek, then brought their lips together for a soft kiss. "Thank you for taking a chance on me."

Spamton smiled. "Your gut feeling was right."

"It was," Tenna kissed him again. "I love you, Spamton."

Spamton gave a small, happy sigh. "I love you, Tenna."

Whatever happened from there on out, Spamton knew he just had to take it one day at a time. And no matter what, Tenna was always going to be right beside him.

Always.

"Where do you think we'll be in five years?" Spamton asked suddenly.

Tenna thought for a moment, then snorted. "Right here, Spams. With your cock in my mouth."

Chapter Text

It had been a year. One incredible year, filled with nothing but love and comfort. So much had changed, and Spamton couldn't be a happier man. His business was prosperous, the studio was overflowing with support and views, and his and Tenna's relationship had only deepened. It had been a struggle in the beginning, but the constant love and support was everything Spamton had needed to make it through.

Being around Tenna was always so comforting. He always made sure Spamton felt safe and happy. It was such a drastic switch, but Spamton got used to the constant attention. He finally felt that his needs were met, and met with enthusiasm, not begrudgingly. He could ask for what he needed, and even when he went non-verbal, Tenna was still able to understand. And, Spamton was getting better at communicating with his hands. They had a few distinct signs between them, such as asking for pen and paper, for food, for space, or for affection.

Tenna was always receptive and understanding. If Spamton needed space, he gave it. If he needed water or a snack, he got it. If they just wanted to sit in silence on the couch for hours on end, they could do that.

And, Spamton was there for Tenna in kind. If there was a storm, Spamton dropped what he was doing to tend to Tenna. It didn't matter where he was or what he was doing. The moment he heard thunder, he was there by his side in an instant. He never touched his wires again, but as long as he was near Tenna, they both felt safe. They would find a nearby room and sit against the wall, waiting for it to pass.

Tenna would lay his head in Spamton's lap, but keep his hands clutched firmly in his own clothes so he didn't hurt him. Then, once the initial surges were over, Spamton would help him to the car and drive him home. They would take it easy for the next few days, but Tenna happily used his cane to get around the house and studio by himself. He showed it off, too, with a proud smile on his face. He used it as an excuse to gush about Spamton and how perfect he was, which always made him blush.

When Tenna was having doubts about the show, Spamton was there to lift him back up. The ratings were the best Tenna had seen in years, but there were still moments in the dead of night where he felt inadequate. Spamton would guide him back to reality with soft words. The back and forth was easy, supporting each other just felt natural. Loving each other was natural, as natural as breathing.

But, Spamton's favorite part of the entire year was when he finally moved into Tenna's house. They hardly ever spent time apart anyway, he spent more nights at Tenna's house than his own. So, after a few long conversations, a lot of arrangements, and a few days of packing, Spamton moved in. He felt instantly at home there. Probably because not much had changed except for a few of his car posters on the walls.

It was the mentality, though, that made Spamton's head spin. This wasn't just Tenna's house anymore, it was his. He had his own drawer in the bathroom, his own laundry basket, his own dresser. Tenna's bed was theirs. The kitchen was theirs. He parked in the garage right next to Tenna's car. He hung his keys up right beside Tenna's. He could finally say, "Oh honey, I'm home!" and have it mean something true.

It was perfect. It was everything he wanted.

And he was so happy, so fucking happy, to finally see that day on the calendar, their first anniversary.

He had no clue if Tenna was planning anything. But, given how extravagant Tenna was, of course he was planning something. But, what was it? Dinner at an expensive restaurant? A quiet night in with a book? Mind-blowing, incredible sex?

Maybe all three in that order.

Spamton was vibrating with excitement and anticipation. But, not only because of the idea of being spoiled rotten, but also because of the gift he had planned for Tenna. He'd done his absolute best keeping it a secret, only working on it when he knew Tenna wouldn't drop by his shop to surprise him for lunch or something. But, after months of planning, designing, and building, it was complete.

Custom made, completely unique, a one-of-a-kind Cungadero. Each and every detail was fussed over extensively, Spamton didn't settle for anything less than perfect. He'd taken such great care to make sure Tenna wouldn't have to shrink a single inch to fit into this car, driver or passenger seat. It had been such a challenge, but a welcome one at that. Spamton was proud of his work, and it was actually hiding in the garage under a tarp, right under Tenna's comically large nose. Tenna knew better not to mess with Spamton's cars, so he was none the wiser.

Spamton couldn't wait to unveil it.

He grinned as he thought about it, then was snapped out of his thoughts as he heard the front door open. He lifted his head to see Tenna walk inside, taking his shoes off and placing them in the closet. He faced Spamton and smiled softly. "Hi, Spams."

Spamton stood from his seat and crossed over to him. "Welcome home. How was your day?" He fell into Tenna's arms, safely tucked in his embrace. He received a kiss to the top of his head and nuzzled in closer, eyes closing gently in contentment.

"So long and boring, all I wanted to do was come back home to you," he sighed, then scooped Spamton up into his arms and spun him around a few times. "I have something planned."

Spamton latched onto him for dear life as he was lifted into the air, letting out a little yelp of surprise. "You do?" he asked almost breathlessly. "Like what?"

"You'll find out," Tenna grinned as he peppered Spamton's face in kisses. He sighed happily as he held him close to his chest, his head tucked safely under his chin, while his hand held him from underneath so he wasn't just dangling in midair.

Spamton relaxed into his grip, then tilted his head up to kiss Tenna's lips. Tenna melted into him, clearly getting more giddy with every kiss they shared. His grip tightened a little, and their gazes met. Spamton chuckled and reached up to cup Tenna's cheek. "You gonna tell me how to dress, at least?"

Tenna grinned and nodded. "Be comfy, and maybe bring an extra pair."

Spamton blinked. "Extra- where are you taking me?"

Tenna chuckled and set him down on the ground carefully. "I told you! You'll find out! Just go get dressed and sit in the car. Oh! And cover your eyes until I say it's okay to look!"

"The entire time?" Spamton asked, his mouth agape. "You got me curious. Maybe a little nervous."

"Aw, don't be nervous! You'll love it, I promise. Now go, go go go!" He shooed Spamton towards the stairs after one more kiss.

Spamton rolled his eyes and started up the stairs, turning back around to blow him a kiss before he made his way to their bedroom. He changed into some comfortable shorts and a shirt, throwing a hoodie on over it as well. He paused, then grabbed a small bag and packed an extra change of clothes. But, before he went back downstairs, he paused again. A grin spread across his face, and he made his way to the closet.

It was a big walk-in closet, holding all of their shirts on racks as well as some storage. In a few drawers were their sex toys, they didn't have very many. But, Spamton walked past them and towards a hidden spot in the corner. He'd covered it with a towel, making it look like dirty laundry, and he was so thankful that Tenna hadn't tried to clean it. Because, beneath that towel was another one of Spamton's surprises. A few spools of simple velvet rope.

Tenna didn't like to admit it, but he was a freak in bed. He was bashful about it outside of the bedroom, and Spamton was so ashamed to speak about it even in the bedroom. But, Tenna had some fantasies. He knew of some of them, from small hints he'd dropped during their other love-making sessions. He loved to hold Spamton's wrists above his head, or pin his body down with his weight. He loved watching Spamton squirm on his back and beg.

And, Spamton had to admit, he loved it too. He loved everything Tenna did to him. He loved letting himself fall into Tenna's control. He knew he was going to be taken care of and fussed over, and Tenna never skipped on aftercare. He always made sure to give Spamton space if he needed it, or affection, or water and a snack, or a bath. Even when Spamton couldn't speak, Tenna always understood.

So, Spamton wanted to give something to Tenna that he had been considering for a few weeks at this point. Complete control. It was a scary thought at first, to let somebody take full control over him, to restrict his movement down to nothing. Spamton from a year ago would have been trembling at the mere mention of it, but he had grown, and Tenna had proven time and time again that there wasn't ever going to be a moment where he didn't listen to Spamton. He had earned this right, this control. He had earned Spamton's trust completely and entirely.

Spamton lifted the towel to check if it was there, and when it was, he grinned. He lifted it to check on his other other surprise, and it was untouched as well. He placed the towel back and exited the closet. He gathered his bag and headed down the stairs.

Tenna was standing in the kitchen, hurriedly hiding whatever he was working on behind his back as he whipped around. "Ah! Spams!" he shuffled to the side, sliding the item with him to block it from view even more. "Go to the car, I'll be out in a few minutes. Don't forget, close your eyes!"

Spamton chuckled. "Whatever you say, big guy." He blew him a kiss, a little disappointed that he couldn't leap into his arms, but he made his way to the car nonetheless. He hopped into the passenger's seat and waited, his fingers tapping against his knees. He closed his eyes and hummed, nodding his head along to the rhythm.

He didn't have to wait long. Tenna was out within a few minutes. He opened up the back door and placed some things on the floor, making sure they were secure before he crossed over to the driver's side. He climbed in with a sigh, then started the car. "You ready, Spams?"

"Yeah," he said with a smile. "Any hints?"

"Hm, nah," Tenna grinned, reaching over to pat his wrists. He leaned down and kissed his cheek. "No peeking until I say. Okay?"

"I'm gonna be so bored, though! You know I love looking out the window," he pouted, slumping forward, his eyes scrunched shut.

"I know, I'm so sorry," Tenna teased, pinching his cheek before kissing him again.

Spamton shook his head with a sigh, then leaned back and crossed his arms. Tenna started to drive, and they fell into a light conversation. Tenna talked about his day and the upcoming shows, while Spamton rambled on and on about a new line of Cungaderos. Time flew by with laughter and chatter. Then, Tenna pulled into a parking lot and turned the car off.

"Alright, Spams. You can open your eyes now," he said, holding Spamton's hands securely between his own.

Spamton peeked his eyes open, grimacing as the light hurt them a little bit. But, he looked out the window and was greeted with a familiar sight.

Their hiking trail.

He blinked, adjusting to the light. Then, he smiled softly. "I should have guessed."

"Yeah, you should have," Tenna said cheekily, and Spamton smacked his arm playfully. He faced Spamton, his smile so wide and bright that Spamton thought he would go blind. Their gazes met, and Spamton reached across the center console to cup Tenna's cheek.

"It's perfect," he said softly. "Thank you, Tenna."

"You haven't even seen the half of it, love," Tenna leaned into his touch, his smile so dopey and so loving.

Spamton craned his neck to kiss him, their lips slotting together softly, perfectly, like the final pieces of a puzzle. The rest of the world faded in that moment, leaving just them in peace and comfort. Spamton pulled away first, then dove in to kiss him again and again. Tenna's hand reached to hold his waist, pulling him into his lap. Spamton yelped in surprise, but chuckled and wrapped his arms around Tenna's neck anyway. He kissed him again, losing himself in the love radiating from him. He felt dizzy with it, like he would just fall over into his arms and wake up in a pile of fluff.

Tenna rocked them back and forth a little, his hands never once leaving Spamton's waist. They relished the proximity, their lips never once parting except for the occasional breath. After a few minutes, Tenna patted his waist twice. Spamton pulled away again, wiping his lips with a sloppy smile. He rested his forehead against Tenna's with a happy sigh. Then, Tenna pushed the door open and helped Spamton leave the car. He exited right after him, then went to the backseat to grab the bags of extra clothes along with a large picnic basket.

Spamton's eyes widened at the sight of it, and he felt his heart flutter in his chest. He grabbed the bags of clothes from Tenna and carried them on his back. "You really had everything prepared under my nose, didn't you?"

Tenna chuckled. "You're very easy to hide things from, love. All I needed to do was put it on the top shelf."

Spamton smacked his arm again, and Tenna gave a laugh. He locked the car and they started towards the trail, hands clasped. But, as soon as they started to walk, Spamton wanted to explore. He started to jog ahead, but a whistle from Tenna made him stop and turn. Tenna held out his hand and pointed to the bags.

"Are you sure? I can carry them," Spamton said.

"You want to run and climb, you'll hurt yourself if you're carrying things," Tenna said, holding out his hand again.

Spamton shrugged, then took the bags off and handed them to Tenna. Then, he took off. Tenna lagged behind, simply watching as Spamton started to scamper through the shrubbery. He laughed to himself as he climbed trees and hung from branches. He would find a sturdy one every so often and hang upside-down from it, calling for Tenna to look and see. Tenna would help him down if he got stuck, giving him a kiss on the head and telling him to be careful.

Spamton wasn't ever careful.

Every hill was scaled, every shiny rock was yoinked and stuffed into a pocket, every berry bush was examined and stolen from. He ran to and fro across the path, darting to every little thing that caught his attention. A butterfly, a particularly large leaf, another rock. He grinned and laughed like a kid in a candy store, showing off his finds to Tenna with a few random facts about them.

When they reached the waterfall, Spamton did what he always did. He would stop and stare for a long while, simply admiring the beauty. He sat on the rock he'd claimed as his own and watched. Tenna caught up to him, entering the clearing a minute or so after him. Spamton turned to him and smiled, then continued to stare at the beauty of the waterfall. A faint rainbow formed in the mist at the bottom. Spamton wanted to reach and touch it, feel the cool water on his skin. The heat from the sun was comforting, the perfect weather for a swim.

Tenna set up the picnic as Spamton observed, his legs crossed nearly on the rock. He held his ankles so they didn't slip and leaned forward, studying closer. He could see movement beneath the water, small fish and frogs that darted left and right beneath the cool, blue surface. Once Tenna was done, he cleared his throat. Spamton faced him with a grin, then slid off the rock to join Tenna on the picnic blanket.

Before him was a spread of his favorites. Grilled cheese, tomato soup, his favorite kind of chips. There were all kinds of fruits, grapes, strawberries, blueberries, cherries. Tenna had even brought a bottle of his favorite whiskey. Spamton's smile turned wobbly, and he scooted closer to Tenna. He leaned into his side. "It's wonderful," he whispered. "Thank you, Tenna."

Tenna wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close into his side. "Happy anniversary, Spams. It's... been such an incredible year."

"You can say that again," he chuckled. Then, he patted Tenna's wrists, and he moved his arm. Spamton climbed into his lap, settling in with a content sigh. He tilted his head up to catch Tenna's gaze, and he relaxed into him the moment his arms wrapped around him again. He reached forward, grabbing himself a plate and loading it up with food. He got one for Tenna as well, then they started to eat.

It was calm and quiet, the only noise being the sounds of the waterfall rushing and birds chirping. It was comforting to be enveloped in warmth like this, to be held in the beautiful sunlight in a place that held so many good memories.

Spamton couldn't help but reminisce.

Their first meeting.

Their first show.

Their matching suits.

Their first kiss.

The first night they spent together.

All the secrets they willingly shared with each other, all the soft moments between the chaos, all the trust and love and safety.

Spamton couldn't help but wonder where he would be if he hadn't met Tenna. Caught up in his own world, trapped inside a persona that didn't feel like himself. Masking his identity to make things easier for himself. Hiding away behind cars and money and malice.

But, at the same time, he truly believed that Tenna would have found him one way or another. Whether it was at that bar, or some other chance encounter. Maybe they just bumped into each other on the street, maybe Spamton would have reached out to be on his show, maybe, maybe, maybe.

Spamton's life was so full of maybes and uncertainty. Ever since he was a kid, things had been so frightening and rocky. He never knew how he felt, or how he was supposed to feel. His emotions were kept under lock and key, hidden away behind walls that not even he knew how to break down. Yet somehow, Tenna managed to do it. He wormed his way right into Spamton's well-guarded heart, breaking down his walls with a bright smile and so much love to give.

Spamton paused as he held a piece of fruit to his lips. He turned a little to catch a glimpse of Tenna's face. He also looked deep in thought, but not in turmoil. Just thoughtful, contemplative. Spamton grinned and reached his hand up, putting the fruit in front of his lips. Tenna shook himself out of the trance and chuckled, leaning forward to take a bite. "Thank you, Spams."

"Whatcha thinking about?" he asked, grabbing another fruit, a strawberry this time, and holding it up for Tenna.

"You," the answer was instant, and Spamton's cheeks flushed a little red. "You just. God, Spams, you make me lose my mind." He sighed and wrapped his arms around his waist tighter, pulling him closer to his chest. He rested his chin on the top of his head, then kissed it gently. "It baffles me that it's already been a year. It feels like I've known you for so much longer. Like my whole life."

Spamton exhaled a small breath, then leaned back and closed his eyes. "I wish I'd known you my whole life," he whispered. "But... I really want to spend the rest of it with you. I love you, Tenna. I... I've never loved anybody the way I love you. I've never had the chance, a-and now that I have it, it's so much better than what I could have imagined." His voice broke a little, but he refused to fall victim to the doubt in his mind. He steadied himself, then turned and faced Tenna fully. He sat upright so their faces were close, and he caressed his cheeks. "You lit everything up for me, Tenna."

Tenna pressed their foreheads together, his face tinting a little pink as he smiled. "I told myself I wasn't going to get sappy, but, you know I can't help it, Spams." He kissed him gently, letting himself fall into Spamton's hands. "I love you. I love how you let me into your life, how you trusted me with yourself. We've both grown and changed so much for each other, and I... I really feel like I'm a better version of myself. I feel so much better than before. Happier. Lighter." He carded his fingers through Spamton's hair and kissed him again.

"I... I want to." He swallowed thickly, then reached into his pocket. He pulled out a small box, and Spamton's eyes widened. "It's not what you think, I promise!" he rushed to say, his face flushing a deep red. He turned bashful as he opened the box, revealing a set of simple matching rings. "It's a promise ring. I-I... I'm devoting everything to you, Spams. Every fiber of my being belongs to you. And I swear on everything I am that I will love you forever."

Spamton stared down at the rings, his mouth agape in shock. He reached down to pick up the smaller one, and he held it up to the sun to study. It was just silver, but it sparkled beautifully in the light. He sniffled, then held the ring close to his chest. "You mean it?" he asked, his voice shaky and broken. Tears formed in the corners of his eyes and he haphazardly wiped them away with the back of his hand.

"Why wouldn't I?" Tenna asked softly, taking Spamton's hand in his one and the ring in the other. "Can I?"

Spamton nodded, and Tenna slowly slid the ring onto his pointer finger. He shuddered a little as the ring slid perfectly into place, and Tenna brought it to his lips to kiss. Spamton gave a broken, tearful laugh, then grasped onto Tenna's hand. He grabbed the second ring and slid it on, then intertwined their fingers. The rings glistened together in the brilliant sunlight.

"I never thought it would come to this," Spamton mumbled, his gaze locked on the ring. "Having somebody like you. Loving somebody this much. I never thought it was possible. It never seemed possible. Like... like I was too broken to be loved so freely. I..." He trailed off, his voice catching in his throat. "I never felt like I was worthy of it. And I was always so terrified that someone would try to love me and end up turning away because of how I truly am." He faced Tenna, tears streaming down his cheeks. "How you put up with me is a mystery, Tenna."

"Not really, because the answer is so simple," he said softly. He kissed Spamton's lips, carefully rocking them back and forth, swaying with the wind. "Because it's part of you. And I love you."

Spamton chuckled. "Sappy, cheesy man."

Tenna grinned. "Only for you, love."

Spamton glanced down at the ring again, then he latched onto Tenna's wrist and kissed his ring. "I love you."

"I love you," he answered, as easy as breathing. When all else failed, those three little words would always be easy to say.

"You'll have to wait for your gifts until we get home," Spamton said with a grin. "I got you a few."

"Oh, I'm excited!" Tenna said, clapping his hands together gleefully. "Any hints?"

Spamton shook his head. "Nah. Not a single one."

Tenna sighed dramatically, then draped himself over Spamton's shoulder, wrapping his arms around him. "Pleaaaaaase?"

"Nuh-uh!" Spamton laughed. "It won't be too much longer, you just have to be a bit more patient."

Tenna groaned. "Fine, you keep your secrets."

Spamton rolled his eyes and kissed Tenna's lips. He turned around and sat in his lap again, picking up his plate and continuing to eat. "Once we're done with this, I'm dunking you in that lake."

Tenna snorted. "Good luck with that, Spams."

They continued to eat and chat, the rings sitting comfortably on their fingers. Spamton found himself glancing at it every few moments, his heart swelling with so much love and adoration that he didn't know how to handle it. He wanted to burst into tears, he wanted to laugh out loud, he wanted to tackle this man and kiss him senseless.

He could not wait to get home.

As soon as they were finished with their food, Spamton bolted for the lake. He chucked his socks and shoes elsewhere as he ran, nearly stumbling and tripping every so often. Tenna wasn't too far behind, but he took his shoes off before he made his way too the lake. They splashed in together, throwing water in each other's faces. Spamton tried, and failed miserably, to dunk Tenna. He was just far too tall. Tenna, however, easily dunked Spamton multiple times. Even with his shrieks of protest, Spamton was soaking wet within a few moments. He splashed Tenna desperately, but to no avail.

They played and laughed and splashed for a while before Tenna finally let Spamton dunk him. He shrank down a few feet, and was very quickly yanked into the water. They toppled over together in a fit of laughter before wrapping their arms around each other and sinking down together. The softness was ruined by Tenna shoving Spamton's head beneath the water, and the subsequent tidal waves in Tenna's face.

By the time they got out of the water, the sun was starting to set. They took turns changing while the other held up a towel to shield them from view. Then, with wet hair and soggy socks, they made their way to the car. But, they didn't drive home yet. Instead, they found a parking spot facing the sunset, and they sat on the hood of Tenna's car. Spamton drank some whiskey, but Tenna elected for water instead, since he had to drive. They talked more, about random things, about the past, about what was in their future. Their hopes, their dreams, their aspirations.

As the sun set beyond the horizon, Spamton turned to Tenna. Hands clasped, they shared a soft kiss, wrapped in the dying sunlight and so much love. They spent a few more quiet minutes enjoying the final rays of sun before heading into the car to drive home. Their hands were clasped in the center console the entire time, Spamton's eyes closed with exhaustion.

He awoke when they reached that final turn home, and he brought a smile to his face, knowing exactly what was going to happen next. He sat up and rubbed his eye. "Mhn, open the garage," he said with a yawn.

Tenna peeked at him curiously. "There's no space for me to park in the garage. You have your project in there."

"I know," Spamton said with a knowing grin. He sat upright a bit more as Tenna pulled into the driveway, leaving plenty of space for Spamton to move his car out of the garage. It opened, and Spamton giggled as he clapped his hands together. "Cover your face once we're out of the car, Tenna."

"If you say so," Tenna said with a shrug. "Let me take the things inside first if we're going to stay out here."

Spamton nodded. He did follow Tenna inside though, only to quickly grab a set of keys and race back out to the driveway. He waited by the garage for Tenna to come back out, and the moment he did, he pointed to him. "Cover!" he said with a grin.

"Alright, alright, I'm not looking." Tenna covered his face and turned around, shoulders shaking with amused laughter.

Spamton double checked to make sure he wasn't looking, then raced to the project car and took the tarp off. It slid to the floor easily, and Spamton swept it to the side, revealing the beautiful car to the world. He hopped into the driver's seat, raising it to where he could actually drive, and slowly inched it out of the garage. He parked it just in the driveway, then reset the seat with a giddy grin. He launched himself out of the car and hurried to Tenna. He stood in front of him with a radiant smile, then patted his elbow. "Uncover your face, but don't turn around."

Tenna lowered his arms to see the proud and adoring look on Spamton's face. He melted at the sight, but then stared in confusion at the keys being handed to him. He grabbed them with a slight frown. "Car keys?"

Spamton aggressively nodded, then he pointed to the car behind Tenna. Tenna slowly turned around.

The keys fell to the floor.

He instantly scooped them with a rambling apology, but it just sounded like gibberish. He raced to the side of the car, carefully running his finger along the gold stripe that cut through sleek crimson red. A tall frame, taller than a normal Cungadero, but no less elegant. He sputtered as he grasped the driver's side handle. He yanked the door open and stared at the interior.

The leg room, the comfortable height, measured perfectly in correlation with his torso. He sputtered some more and hurriedly climbed inside. He gave a shout the moment he realized he didn't have to shrink a single inch. He adjusted the seat and latched onto the steering wheel, so completely and utterly amazed at the proportion of it all, how it all formed and molded to him.

He leapt from the seat and raced to Spamton, grasping him by the shoulders as a flower bloomed from his nose. "YOU MADE THIS?!" He shook him back and forth almost violently, his face brighter than ever before.

Spamton, rattled by the sudden shaking, tried to nod, but it only scrambled his brain more. He laughed. "I did!"

Tenna froze, staring deep into Spamton's eyes. He sank to his knees, wrapping his arms around him, burying his face into his shoulder.

He started to cry.

Spamton knew it was out of happiness, but it still broke his heart. He embraced Tenna back, rubbing circles onto his shoulder as he kissed the side of his head. "You like it?" he asked, unsure of what else to say.

"I love it, Spams," he said, voice breaking. "Y-you- you made this... for me? Specifically- specifically for me?"

"You hate being shorter than usual," Spamton said with a little bit of a shrug. "I know it's uncomfy."

Tenna made a small sound, like a whimper. He buried his face deeper into Spamton's neck, and he could feel tears trickling down his shoulder. Tenna shuddered, then pulled away, the flower still blooming from his nose. He plucked it, and after a moment of holding it, he delicately tucked it behind Spamton's ear. "I love it," he repeated, softer than before. "I-I don't even know what to say, Spammy. This is- you just- you made a car?"

Spamton chuckled and caressed Tenna's face, bringing him close for a tender kiss to the lips. "With my own two hands."

Tenna, flabbergasted, could only make another small sound. His lip wobbled, and he looked like he was about to start sobbing.

"You wanna take it for a drive?" Spamton asked.

"N-no, I think I would crash if I tried to drive right now," Tenna chuckled, wiping his face with the corner of his sleeve. "Tomorrow. First thing in the morning. I'll..." He made a small gasping noise, then wrapped Spamton up in another bone-crushing embrace.

Spamton gave as good as he got, squeezing Tenna with as much force as he could muster. They remained intertwined for a few long minutes before Tenna finally pulled away, sniffling and wiping his face. He shuddered, then handed the keys to Spamton. "Could you- could you put her back in the garage?"

"Of course, Tenna," Spamton smiled, kissing his knuckles before taking the keys. "Do you want your other gift tonight, or are you too tired?"

"You did not get me more things," Tenna muttered, mouth slightly agape.

"Well, it's..." Spamton paused for a moment, then grinned and winked at him. "Y'know."

Tenna flushed a bright red. "I want it!" he shouted, then clasped his hands over his mouth as his voice echoed through the neighborhood.

Spamton laughed. "I have a few things to do, could you wait at the dining table while I uhm..." he trailed off, shame suddenly overwhelming his mind. He tensed, then turned towards the car. He tried to speak, but the words caught in his throat. He shook his head, then opened the door and hopped inside. He saw Tenna out of the corner of his eye, walking in through the front door with a dopey grin on his face, tears still on his cheeks.

Spamton pulled the car into the garage and shut it off, then shut the garage door and headed inside. He saw Tenna sitting at the table, eagerly waiting with yet another flower blooming from his nose. Spamton chuckled and waved to him before he sauntered up the stairs, making sure Tenna was staring at his ass.

He entered the bedroom and slid the door shut, and instantly, his knees felt like jelly. He wobbled as he made his way to the bed, his stomach suddenly twisting into anxious knots. He clasped a hand over his mouth and squeezed his eyes shut.

He begged himself to not get cold feet. He wanted this, he wanted this so badly.

But, the idea of saying it out loud was actually terrifying.

What if Tenna said no? What if he'd been reading this wrong the entire time? What if Tenna didn't-

Spamton smacked himself in the face and huffed. He sat at the edge of the bed, his leg bouncing uncontrollably, shaking the whole frame. He leaned forward, putting his face into his hands. Anxiety clawed at him. His tongue felt like sandpaper in his mouth. He tried to force himself to speak, but the words died in his throat.

He glanced to the closet. He sighed, then stood and walked to that back corner. He lifted the towel and brought out the rope and the set of skimpy lingerie he'd bought for himself. It was black and simple, just a set of panties and a lacy bralette. He thought it would have been cute and fun, but now it stared him down with daggers.

Tenna would hate it. Tenna wouldn't like it. Tenna would frown and turn away.

No. He wouldn't.

Spamton exhaled a shaky breath, then laid the lingerie out on the bed. He lifted his shirt and tossed it to the floor, then sent a glance to the mirror. He stared at himself, half naked and trembling. In fear or anticipation, he wasn't sure.

He swallowed down the apprehension and slowly stepped out of his shorts and boxers. He dressed himself in the lingerie, ignoring how his fingers trembled around the straps. He sighed as soon as he was dressed, then his hands landed on the soft velvet rope. He pulled it into his lap and stared at it for a long while.

He could do this. He could ask for what he wanted. He could offer what he wanted to give. He wanted this, he wanted this. He just had to get the damn words out of his mouth.

He tried to say them to himself, but his voice cracked and wavered. He tried again and again, whispering the words like a mantra. But, he couldn't. He couldn't.

Then, he got an idea. He raced to the bedside table and yanked open a few drawers, not stopping until he found a pen and paper. He scrawled the words out almost sloppily, but it would do. There was no way his shaking hands would be able to write anymore. He placed the paper down on the bed in front of the rope, then stood back and gave himself a nod.

This would work. Tenna would see, he would read, and he would take care of him. Spamton could let himself relax in his arms, the way he always wanted to. He breathed again, the anxiety still present, but a little less. He made his way to the door, then he cracked it open. His voice was still wavering, but he was able to call out.

"Tenna," he said, just loud enough for him to hear. "I'm ready."

He heard the sound of a chair being shoved back, and he raced back to the bed on legs that were about to buckle and give out. He sat on the edge of the bed, legs crossed, his face alight with fluster. He hunched forward, rethinking this for just one final moment.

But, the moment that door opened, Spamton anxiety faded down to nothing.

Tenna stood, already half undressed, chest bare and heaving. His gaze locked on Spamton, and he froze. He dropped his clothes to the floor, his screen a bright and flustered red. He looked Spamton up and down, making a strangled noise at the sight of him. Spamton shifted a little, embarrassed and bashful. His eyes flickered to the tent in Tenna's pants, and he knew he would not make it through the night without some serious soreness afterwards.

Tenna took a hesitant step closer, then he took notice of the spools of rope on the bed. He cocked his head to the side curiously. "What's that?" he asked softly, taking a few more steps closer. He reached down to feel the rope, then picked up the sheet of paper with a curious noise.

"I-I can't say it, Tenna," Spamton said softly, his voice breaking. "No matter how hard I try, I-I can't tell you what I want. But... do you... can we- you-" He buried his face in his hands, then pointed to the note. "Just- read that."

Tenna went quiet as he read the few short sentences. He smiled softly, then gently placed the paper to the side. He took to his knees in front of Spamton, then reached up to cup his face. He stroked his cheeks with his thumbs, gently asking for eye contact. When Spamton didn't give it, he didn't press. He kissed his knuckles instead. "I would love to, Spammy. Is it really something you want?"

"Yes," Spamton whispered, squeezing his eyes shut with a shudder. "Please. I-I've been... thinking. I really want you to- to-" He gave a frustrated noise and raised a hand to his head, going for a hit against his forehead.

Tenna caught his wrist and slowly guided it away, kissing his knuckles again. "I have to admit, this is a surprise," he said with a soft chuckle. "I've been wanting this for a while, but I was waiting to see if you would be the one to bring it up. I never wanted to make you feel like you had to just because I wanted it. I know you like being in control of yourself."

"I do," Spamton muttered. "But, you being in... in control of me is something I want too. It's something that I... I feel like I'm ready to give." He lifted his eyes, still a bit scrunched, but with a smile instead of turmoil. "I trust you, Tenna. I know you would never hurt me. I know you would always listen to me. I trust you with everything that is mine. Even my... even the control I have over my own body. I trust you with it."

"Thank you," Tenna whispered, leaning closer, holding his hands to his chest. "Your trust means everything to me. I feel so privileged to be this close to you. It truly means so much to me. I won't let you down, Spams, I promise." He smiled softly, then grasped onto the ropes. He held them between his hands, getting used to the feeling of them. "I have to admit, I don't know many knots."

"Neither do I," Spamton said with a burbling chuckle. "We can just... make it simple tonight?"

"Of course," Tenna said. "I know it's hard for you to communicate, but it's going to be really important tonight, okay? Even if it's in a nonverbal way."

Spamton shifted a little, giving a small nod. "I don't know how I would, though. I wouldn't be able to tap you."

Tenna thought for a moment. "I could check in a lot? Or we could give you something to hold. Oh! Or you could knock against the headboard twice, the same way you tap."

Spamton hummed, then he nodded again. "Yeah, that sounds good. And same safeword as always if I can speak."

"That's my good boy," Tenna said with a smile, leaning forward to kiss Spamton's cheek. "Whenever you want to get started, love. I'm leaving it up to you."

Spamton's hands wrung together for a moment, and he averted his gaze. Then, with an exhale, he slowly leaned onto his back and raised his arms over his head. Tenna made a noise, then grinned and climbed his away on top of him. He trapped him between his arms, staring down at him with a sappy smile on his face. Spamton stared up at him, face scrunched up just a little. But, the tension faded the moment Tenna's hand cupped his cheek.

He kissed him gently, then his hand slowly slid down to trace the straps of the skimpy top he was wearing. He kissed a line down his face before nestling himself in the crook of his neck, kissing and sucking small marks into his soft skin. Spamton inhaled a sharp breath, then let out a low moan. Tenna's hands reached up to hold his wrists in place, reaching them higher so he would squirm.

Spamton writhed as Tenna kissed his neck, mumbling barely coherent words into him. He pulled back, then reached for the rope. Spamton watched him with bated breath, whining a little as Tenna unraveled it from the spool. He sat up a bit to mess with it, leaving Spamton on his back, shaking in anticipation. He kept his arms above his head, crossed at the wrists. Tenna grinned. "Okay, what I'm going to do is tie your wrists together and tie the rope to the headboard."

Spamton nodded. "O-okay." He scooted back a little bit, getting himself comfortable while Tenna fiddled with the ropes.

Tenna leaned forward, grasping Spamton's wrists and delicately wrapping the rope around them. He tied a secure knot and tugged at it for a moment. "Feels good?"

Spamton tested the ropes, pulling his wrists apart a little, but they didn't budge. He exhaled a shaky breath, then he nodded. "It's good."

"You want to keep going?" Tenna asked a bit quietly. "We don't have to keep going if you're uncomfortable."

"I want to," Spamton said confidently. "I really want to. It's just... new."

Tenna nodded and kissed his forehead. He reached to the headboard and looped the rope around it, tying another knot. "Try that."

Spamton tugged on it, and it didn't shift or come loose. He knocked experimentally on the headboard, nodding when he was able to reach it and touch. "Good."

Tenna smiled. "Do you want more? Tie your ankles as well?"

Spamton thought for a moment, then shook his head. "Baby steps, I think. We'll save it for later."

Tenna nodded, then put the rest of the rope to the side. He reached up to Spamton's face and held it with both of his hands. "Can I kiss you, Spam?"

"You can do whatever you want to me, Tenna," he whined. "I'm yours."

Tenna pressed their lips together almost urgently, all of his caution being thrown out the window. He moaned into Spamton's mouth, his hands roaming his chest. His nails traced his skin, pushing down enough to be felt, but not hurt. Spamton whimpered, his eyes screwing shut as Tenna peppered kisses all over his face.

Then, once again, he mouthed at his neck. He bit down into the crook of it, relishing as Spamton let out a breathy moan. He struggled against the restraints, squirming and bucking his hips, desperate for attention. He felt the panties stretch around his cock, barely able to contain it.

"You have no idea how beautiful you look right now, Spammy," Tenna managed between wet kisses and sloppy bites. "I can't wait to get my hands on you, my cock in you. Can't wait to hear you moan my name like you know nothing else."

Spamton gasped as Tenna's thumbs pressed into his nipples through the fabric of his top. Then, he slid the top upwards, exposing his nipples to open air. He licked a stripe down the middle of his chest, then eagerly took his nipple between his lips and started to suck. His other hand grasped Spamton's waist, nails digging into his skin, but just a little. The small flickers of pain made Spamton gasp and moan, desperate for more.

Tenna moaned around his nipple, swirling his tongue around it before gently biting down. Spamton cried out, his back arching into the touch, his hands pulling down on the restraints, trying to get him closer. Tenna's hands dragged down his waist, slipping under the hem of his panties. Spamton whined and shifted his legs, trying to get them completely off. Tenna chuckled. "You want them off? That's too bad, love. I'm only moving them out of the way. You look far too pretty to undress."

Spamton whimpered at that, his cock straining so much against the panties that Tenna wasn't sure how they hadn't ripped yet. He chuckled, then hooked a finger through the middle of them and eased them to the side, letting Spamton's cock slip out. He wrapped his hand around the base and started to stroke, but it was slow and teasing. Spamton bucked his hips, but Tenna clicked his tongue and released him. "No no, love. We're taking this slow." Then, after a moment, he continued. "You okay to keep going?"

"Yes," Spamton mustered, his body trembling, chest heaving, heart fluttering. He peeked at Tenna and gave him a warm smile. "Take me, Tenna. I'm yours. I'm yours." He spoke breathlessly, then whimpered as Tenna reached over to the nightstand and pulled open the drawer. He grasped a bottle of lube and popped the cap open, pouring some onto his fingers.

"Knock twice if you need me to stop, okay?" he said, giving Spamton a firm kiss to the center of his chest.

Spamton nodded, then instantly spread his legs, beckoning, begging, needing.

How could Tenna resist?

He coated his fingers in lube and set the bottle to the side. He draped himself over Spamton, one arm supporting his weight while the other reached for his asshole. He captured Spamton's lips in a kiss as he eased a finger inside of him and started to thrust. He took it slow, kissing Spamton and watching for any sign of panic or struggle. But, Spamton was relaxed. He looked happy, even. His face was scrunched up in pleasure, but there was a sparkle in his eye. He leaned into Tenna's kiss desperately, moaning into him as he was stretched.

Tenna added a second finger and scissored them apart, relishing the moan that came afterwards. He buried his face in Spamton's neck, overwhelming him with kisses and sucks and bites. He littered his skin with dark purple splotches, grinning and kissing each and every one. "You're mine, all mine," he whispered. "Mine for a year, mine forever."

"Yours," Spamton gasped out as Tenna's fingers brushed against his prostate. He clenched down hard around him, shuddering as Tenna lovingly rubbed his fingers into that spot. "Tenna," he whispered. "Kiss me, kiss me, please."

Tenna kissed him. Their lips slotted together so perfectly, so easily. Tenna ran his tongue along his bottom lip, and Spamton eagerly dropped his mouth open. Tenna moaned into him as his fingers sped up, his tongue mapping the expanse of his mouth.

Spamton's hips bucked, his hands struggling against the ropes. He wanted so desperately to hold him, to keep him close, but he couldn't. He didn't knock, though. He didn't want it to end. He could wait to hold him.

Tenna added a third finger and shifted the angle of his thrusts, going for depth rather than stretching. He fucked him, deep and passionate, kissing him over and over as he did so. "I love you," he muttered. "More than anything in the world, I love you. You're all mine. Nobody will ever take you from me."

Spamton whined at the possessiveness. He would be lying if he said he didn't like it. He loved when Tenna grew possessive. He craved it, he needed it. In moments of uncertainty, he knew he would always belong to Tenna, the same way Tenna belonged to him. He squirmed, mouth open, moaning, trying to beg for more. He needed him, he needed him so badly. "Tenna," he whimpered.

"Yes, my love?" Tenna answered him with a kiss and another thrust against his prostate.

Spamton cried out in pleasure, his cock so hard that it was almost painful, leaking precum. "More," he mustered. "Please, please. I-I need you, fuck me, fuck me."

Tenna kissed him again, stealing the air from his lungs as the thrusts of his fingers sped up again. Spamton moaned, his beautiful voice muffled by Tenna's kiss. He split his fingers apart, and Spamton's breath caught in his throat. He whined and bucked his hips even more, his moans hitching. But, the moment that heat started to pool in his belly, Tenna retracted his fingers. Spamton cried out, a string of nonsensical words spilling from his mouth. "N-no! I-I was so close, I was so- so-" he whined as Tenna chuckled.

"Oh, my love. Were you close? Did I ruin it for you? I'm so sorry," he grinned, kissing Spamton's cheek. "You wanna cum?"

"Yes, please, please," Spamton begged. "Fuck me, m-make me cum, please, Tenna, please."

Tenna nuzzled into him again, his fingers, still slick with lube, wrapping around Spamton's cock. "I'll make you cum, then I'll fuck you. How does that sound, my love?"

"Please," Spamton nodded vigorously. "Please."

Tenna captured his lips in a bruising kiss and started to stroke. Spamton instantly started to writhe, rocking his hips upward into his hand. Tenna kissed him over and over again, swallowing every noise that left his mouth. He pressed his tongue down his throat, grinning as Spamton gagged, his eyes pricking with tears. He cried out as Tenna gave a particularly sudden stroke, the tears spilling down his cheeks.

His chest shuddered, his moans hitched. The rocking of his hips sped up to a frantic pace. "Tenna, Tenna, Tenna!" he cried out.

Then, Tenna stopped. His hand retracted entirely, and Spamton gave a long whine of displeasure.

"No! Don't stop! Why'd you stop, Tenna?" he sobbed. "I-I was so- I was so close, I-I was- Tenna!"

"Oh, did you not like it?" Tenna teased. "You want to cum so badly, oh, but I love watching you squirm, my love. Wanna hear you beg."

Spamton's hands struggled against the ropes, yanking down in an attempt to give himself the relief he desired. "Please," he whimpered. "Let me cum, please."

"You want to?" Tenna grinned. He took Spamton's weeping cock into his hand again, his thumb swiping along the tip, gathering the beads of precum and using it to ease the slide. He stroked him teasingly, shuddering with delight at the look of pure want and desire on Spamton's face.

But, once again, the moment Spamton got close, Tenna released him.

"Tenna!" Spamton sobbed. "Please! Please. I need it so bad, you're- you-" He gave an exasperated gasp, moaning as he shifted his body, trying to rut against the blankets for any kind of friction.

Tenna clicked his tongue. "Nuh-uh, love. Don't be a naughty boy, be good. Be good for me."

Tears spilled from Spamton's eyes, frustrated, but enjoying it nonetheless. He gave a shuddering moan and peeked up at Tenna, his eyes glistening with tears. "Let me cum, let me cum," he repeated it over and over, leaning his face into Tenna, wanting any kind of relief he could get.

"How about this, can we do one more?" Tenna offered. "One more, and then you may cum. Can you do that for me?"

Spamton nodded. "Please! Please, I'll do anything. Just let me cum, let me cum, please."

Tenna gave a small smile, then kissed his lips gingerly. He grasped his cock once again, and without warning, started to stroke it hard and fast. Spamton cried out and moaned, his hips surging upwards into Tenna's hand. He gasped as heat rapidly pooled in his belly, but it was gone within an instant. He let out a long whine, his chest heaving, his body so hot and overstimulated, yet so empty at the same time. He shuddered and sobbed.

As Tenna's lips kissed him again, his other hand started to fiddle with his nipples. He stroked his cock once more, slower and more methodical. "You've earned it, Spam. Then, you want more after this? Want me to fuck you?"

"Yes," Spamton breathed, his face scrunching up.

He moaned as Tenna's tongue licked a stripe from the crook of his neck to the underside of his chin, then his lips were captured in a kiss. Tenna didn't stop kissing him as he stroked his cock. Spamton fucked his hand frantically, moaning loud and unashamed all the while. And, when heat pooled in his belly and his moans breached the octave, Tenna didn't stop. He guided him through his orgasm, coaxing him down from his high as he shook and trembled and moaned. Cum coated Tenna's hand, and he licked it clean with a grin before kissing Spamton's lips once again.

He took a moment to let him rest, laying down beside him, his arms wrapping around him. He kissed his cheek, his lips, his neck, muttering praise and love in his ear. "So good, so good for me, Spammy. Always so good for me, listens to me so well. What a good boy."

Spamton moaned at that, turning his head to nuzzle into Tenna. They laid there for a moment before Tenna spoke up again. "You feeling good, still?" He gestured to the ropes.

Spamton nodded. "Yes," he managed. "Good."

Tenna kissed him. "You want more, or wait another moment?"

"M-more," he whispered, his feet sliding against the beg, trying to find purchase, but ultimately failing. "Please."

Tenna smiled and kissed him once more. He scooted down a little, positioning himself between Spamton's legs. He spread them wide open, then grinned at the panties standing in his way. He yanked them out of the way again, then just for good measure, let his fingers slide into him one more time. Spamton moaned and arched his back, so frantic for touch, so desperate for attention.

Tenna didn't waste any more time, he'd teased him enough already that night. He grabbed the bottle of lube and poured some onto his hand before coating his cock in a thin layer. He situated himself, pressing the tip of his cock to Spamton's asshole. "You ready, my love?"

"Fuck me, please," Spamton whined.

Then, Tenna slid himself inside. He bottomed out within a few deep thrusts, moaning as he did so. Spamton clenched around him, already so hot and wet and needy. Tenna took a moment to let them both get used to the stretch and the warmth. He draped himself over Spamton, holding himself up by his elbows on either side of Spamton. He kissed him fervently, tongue sliding into his mouth, pressing into his throat. Spamton moaned into him, hands struggling against the ropes for a moment.

Tenna smiled softly at him. "You okay?" he whispered.

"Yeah," Spamton mumbled. "I-I just wanna hold you."

"Do you want them off?"

"No," he shook his head. "I can wait."

Tenna kissed him again, softer this time. Then, he started to move. His thrusts were slow and even, letting Spamton's body stretch and shape around him at his own pace. He quickened his pace after a few moments, fucking him deeply, passionate. He kept his gaze locked on Spamton's face the entire time, his expression filled with nothing but love. Spamton caught his gaze and smiled weakly up at him before he moaned, his eyes clenching shut in pleasure.

Tenna cradled his face in his hand, thumb gently stroking his cheek. He grunted as he thrust into him, and Spamton cried out as his cock struck his prostate. His breath hitched and he whined, mouth dropped open, saliva dripping from the corners. Tenna kissed him breathlessly, shoving his tongue down his throat as his thrusts sped up again.

Spamton moaned and clenched, his back arching with every thrust into him. He pulled harder against the ropes, whining, wanting, needed to touch. He wanted to wrap his arms around Tenna, bring him close to kiss his neck. He wanted Tenna to sink his teeth into his skin, make as many marks as he pleased. So, he whispered it. "T-Tenna, my- please, bite my- my neck."

Tenna didn't even say a single word before he pressed a firm kiss to the crook of his neck. Spamton shuddered, then cried out as Tenna bit down harder than he had before. Pain surged through Spamton, and he moaned all the way through it. Tenna bit down over and over, making marks and drawing tiny droplets of blood. Spamton winced, but he loved every second of it. Tenna kissed the marks he made, licking the blood that seeped from his skin. He grinned, then continued.

His thrusts started to stutter in their rhythm as heat pooled in his belly. His hand trailed down to Spamton's cock, wrapping around it as he started to stroke in tandem with his faltering thrusts. It didn't take long for Spamton to cum with a cry, and Tenna wasn't far behind. He spilled deep inside of him with a long, low moan. He slowly pulled out and collapsed next to him, wrapping his arms around him with a content sigh.

Spamton tugged on the ropes, and Tenna reached up to undo the knots. There were dark red rashes where the ropes had been, and Tenna grimaced. He brought his wrists to his lips and kissed the marks. "I'll get you some ointment," he said. "How do you feel, love?"

"I loved it," Spamton answered breathlessly. He threw his arms around Tenna and tugged him close, smashing their lips together in a fervent, passionate kiss. Tenna held him tight, one hand on his cheek, and other on his hip. "I... really really liked it, Tenna."

"I'm so glad," Tenna exhaled a relieved sigh, keeping Spamton held close to his chest. "I liked it, too. I'm... really happy that you're willing to indulge in my fantasies, Spammy."

"As long as you fulfill mine, if they ever arise," Spamton chuckled. He sighed, then grimaced at the small bits of pain in his wrists.

Tenna caught wind and frowned a little. "Is it hurting a lot?"

"No, not really," Spamton shrugged. "Just uncomfy. Can we clean up? I'm tired."

Tenna nodded. "Do you want a bath or a shower?"

Spamton thought for a moment, then shook his head. "That's a tomorrow thing. I just wanna hold you."

Tenna smiled sloppily and nodded. "I'll get some washcloths. Do you need water? Snack?"

"No, I'm okay," Spamton said, then he kissed Tenna's knuckles. "Thank you, Tenna."

"Anything you need, Spams." He gave him one last kiss, then stood from bed and went to go grab the washcloths and ointment. When he came back, they cleaned up a bit. Tenna changed the sheets and blankets before putting some ointment on Spamton's wrists, as well as the bleeding bite marks. He covered them with bandaids and kisses before getting them some boxers to wear to bed. They curled up together under the covers, warm and safe and happy.

Spamton fit perfectly snug between Tenna's arms, held right against his chest. He listened for his heartbeat, latching onto it once he found it. Tenna's hands held him firm, his chin rested on top of his head. They both gave a happy, content sigh.

Spamton closed his eyes, a dopey smile overtaking his face. "Happy anniversary, Tenna."

Tenna kissed the top of his head and held him closer. "Happy anniversary, Spams. I love you so much. Thank you for everything. Not just for the gifts today but... everything in general. You're always so considerate of me. I-I just- you build an entire fucking car for me, just because I hate being small."

Spamton grinned. "What can I say? I love spoiling my man."

Tenna chuckled and kissed him again. "I love you."

Spamton cuddled into him closer, hands latching onto his arms. "I love you, Tenna. So much. To many more years."

"To many more years."