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Hidden up in the rafters, Spamton watched the show below him. Tenna appeared to be doing some kind of science experiment program today. The shadowy audience Spamton knew all too well from his days working with Tenna would ooh and aah the host's every move. The TV host was certainly enjoying himself too and Spamton had to admit this new fit he found himself in certainly worked for the big man. Well, maybe it was just nice to see him smiling again. Not that he was willing to admit that in front of the guy. He had Tenna's overblown ego to think about after all.
He was careful to scuttle around where he would not be seen by the crew. In-fact it had become a bit of a hidden art these past few days. Knowing where to step to make the least amount of noise (and most importantly how not fall painfully onto the stage and make an absolute ass of himself) was important if he wanted to catch a glimpse of Tenna's shows without the other knowing.
It also gave him a chance to practice his speech along with the show. If there was one thing about his new form that he despised even more than his looks and his fortune failing it was the unwanted ads. They bumbled out of his mouth in the most inconvenient times and just muddled what he was trying to say. Tenna had gotten somewhat used to them now and was getting better about understanding him regardless but it was still a matter of pride for him. He felt that he couldn't possibly show his face to anyone else who might know him until he had them better under wraps. So when he had the time, he would quietly mutter lines to himself during the show, nice and slow with no pressure.
As the show rounded its conclusion he knew he should head on back to Tenna's office room (that he may or may not be crashing in now). He paused though, stopping to keep watching Tenna and that palpable excitement he kept going even as the crew wrapped up. Did he long for those days when he could work beside him? Those days when after a show, he was liable to be swept off his feet and congratulated with a smile. The two would go out for drinks or something else to celebrate. Maybe…but those days were long gone.
Lost in thought, he realized he'd also lost sight of Tenna. Okay, now he really had to go. Scurrying between wires and ducts along the frame of the dropped ceiling, he finally made his way to Tenna's room. With all the precision he could muster he cracked one tile up a hair to peer in and found it just as silent as he left it, good. He set it down and inched closer to the tiles where the couch bed sat under. It was much more comfortable to drop down onto that. Unfortunately, before he could reach it, his foot slipped. As he felt his weight shift, in a panic he reached out for anything to hold onto. A dangling lighting cable ended up being his saving grace and he gripped it tightly between his puppet fingers.
The styrofoam tile crashed onto the floor below at the exact moment the door opened. Well this wasn't optimal. Tenna immediately took notice and looked up at him dangling from the ceiling.
"Spamton, what in the Sam Hill are you doing up there?"
There was really no use hiding it now. "CATHODE [[$6.99 honey on sale]] DO YOU MIND HELPING ME [[down the road across from—]]?" He tried not to look down at the floor below him. "PLEASE."
Due to Tenna's size, it only took him a few long strides to reach Spamton who was hanging above even his height. His fingers brushed against the heel of his shoe as he raised his hands up. "Let go, Spam. I'll catch you."
There was the briefest moment where Spamton realized that these words would hold little weight to him even a few weeks back. These days he was working on a lot of things and trust was the biggest one. He closed his eyes tight and let go.
"Gotcha!" Tenna beamed as he caught him before safely bringing the puppet closer to his chest. "There we go."
There were plenty of times he had fallen, and that alone should not have phased him but something about the whole ordeal caused his little heart-shaped object to beat rapidly in his body. He tried his best to make sure it wasn't apparent. "THANK YOU." His stupid words still came out a little grating and chippy for his liking.
"Now Spammy, please tell me why you were hanging from the ceiling? I'm not mad."
The way Tenna said it sounded like scolding a child, and every thought in his body screamed at him to be stubborn and keep this jaw shut purely out of spite. It was an easy habit to fall back on even if it had always made his life infinitely worse as a result. "JUST [[run don't walk]]ING AROUND THE STUDIO."
"In the ceiling?" Tenna sits down on the edge of the bed and sets the little guy down next to him. He's frowning as he looks up at the hole now in his ceiling before looking back down to Spamton. The expression is one he's become quite familiar with.
"YES." He keeps his answer brief, but Tenna still gives him that look. The one that says 'What aren't you telling me?'
He lays a hand on the puppet's head, gently stoking his hair, "Spam…"
With a combination of affection and that kicked puppy dog face, Spamton caves with a sigh. "0K 0K." He pauses again to take in his words. "IT'S SO THAT I CAN [[tune in every Monday through Friday]] AND WATCH YOUR SHOW."
Tenna instantly perks up. "Spam, I'm flattered but you don't need to sneak around in the rafters to watch my show. You're more than welcome to watch it from the front row seats!"
"NO CAN DO [[10 to 11]]. I DON'T THINK YOUR [[all expense cruise]] WOULD BE HAPPY TO SEE ME."
The expression on Tenna's face crumples in confusion before, "It doesn't matter what they think. If I say you get to be there, then you will. I will have your back and—and crush any negative talk about you!" Removing the hand from his hair, he balls both of them into fists. It now feels like Tenna is being all worked up over this imaginary scenario he's formed in his head.
"ANT!" Tenna's name being shouted causes him to stop. Spamton puts a hand onto the TV's thigh. "WHAT IF I'M NOT [[ready in 15 minutes or less]]?" His insecurities come out in a rather small voice.
"Do you really feel that way? That you're not ready to see other people?" One of Tenna's many talents is being able to turn his mood on a dime. It’s a talent he sees fit to be doing now. Why does he look like the one who's going to cry?!
"YES." And Spamton tries, he really tries not to think about Tenna's reaction to him from that moment back in TV World, misguided as it was, and how humiliating it had been. His presence would just bring the mood down. Tenna would try, he knows he would try, but what if it just made everything worse. Tenna could not afford to relapse now that he had all this.
No, Spamton was not fit to be anywhere near the stage. Without his benefactor, those days were long past. "YOU CAN'T JUST [[no more squishing and squashing]] EVERYONE WHO DOES NOT [[like and subscribe]] ME."
"Oh… right. You did see all of that." He seems to shrink at the realization. "Not exactly one of my finer moments. Then again I've had very few fine moments since you left me." Folding his hands on his lap, he quiets, processing. "I just felt like I had so little control. TV Time was my life. It's—what I was made for."
Even if it's true, it still hurts to hear him say that. Tenna is still so trapped in his cage of commitment, one that only gets smaller with his irrelevancy. He's reminded of a time where an ignorant Addison longed to extend the freedom he thought he had found to the one person in his life that ever made him feel wanted.
Tenna continued, "So when everything kept slipping through my fingers, I decided that I just had to hold on tighter. Hold on tight and never let go, like I wish I had done with you." He laughs and it’s a dry awkward noise. His screen is dark. "Turns out that folks don't really like being contained or ruled over. That when I start to lose it, they become afraid. I said and did many things I now regret."
"THAT'S IN THE PAST! YOU'RE [[new and improved]] NOW!"
"I don't feel very new and improved," despite this, his screen does flicker slightly. "Well, maybe some days I do." He turns to face the puppet properly. "Spammy, I've said it before and I mean it that I don't want to lose you again." His hand practically engulfs Spamton's hand as it's placed on top of it. "If this is my home now, I want you to feel like it could be yours too some day."
Spamton can feel the hand on top of his curl slightly and he lets it happen, and lets Tenna slot their fingers together despite their differences. If he's being honest he's still a little scared. The fake walls he put up in his glory days and the protective measures that got him through his bad years, both have left such long-lasting scars. The thought that he might wake up from this never quite leaves him. He squeezes those silicone-covered metal fingers between his hard plastic ones as if to ground himself.
"A [[home sweet home]] WITH YOU?" Behind his lenses, he closes his eyes. "I don't think I could ask for more."
Before he knows it, he's being scooped off the bed again and tucked into the much taller darkener's embrace. It’s easy to become limp and let his body fill in all the gaps. Fuzzy little kisses are being placed onto his head and it's causing his hair to cling. Spamton doesn't think he could possibly care about the state of his hair anymore when faced with this.
"My little mailman," he coos. "I wish everyone could see what I can."
Hearing those words, he's sure he's becoming as red as the coat his face is smothered into. The fact that Tenna can even say something like that, even after his actions to try and push him away. Even after the heartache he unwillingly put him through. That he still wants Spamton is nothing short of a miracle from heaven. His gears turn faster and he tries to push it down. He's done nothing to deserve this. Surely when others see him, they will rightfully see he's no good. They will see…
He feels Tenna's grip tighten on him. "After all this time…" the words murmured cut through the silence and take Spamton out of his own head. "I think I can finally say the words that I was too much of a coward to say back then. I want to make sure you hear them now."
Spamton is lifted up, and looking into the glow of the tv finds that he can no longer hide his face. Tenna's smile is bright in every sense of the word.
"I love you and nothing will ever change that."
Lips smacked against teeth before he could fully process what had just been said. A few more kisses. He should probably kiss back, it would be the considerate thing to do and yet, he was enjoying the attention.
The screen's warm pink glow showered over him like a stoplight, bathing him in color. With a love struck smile, Tenna lays his last one and pulls away.
"[$&*!~] TENS. WHAT DID I DO TO DE[[serve]] YOU?"
Tenna just hummed back in response.
"NO, TRULY." There's a tremble in his voice and he chokes it down. A reassuring hand strokes the edge of his face and he leans into it. The hand seems to wipe at his cheeks and he realizes his dumb stupid body has gone and done it again! "DAMMIT CATHODE! WHY DO [[eye]] ALWAYS SEEM TO [[leaky pipes getting you down?]] JUST WHEN THE [[goods]] STUFF BEGINS?! I CANT [[just 4 payments of $9.99]] KEEP IT TOGETHER?!"
As if answering him, Tenna leans in and presses his lips against the wet plastic of his cheek. A warm silicone tongue follows after it lapping at the drops and catching them before they fall down. This is weird, right? Spamton thinks this and yet, he cannot help the comfort that is overwhelming him at the gesture. Tonight he couldn’t stop messing up, and yet having Tenna here with him, they were making do.
A bit-crushed chuckle sounds deep within his body and he places a hand on the plastic casing of the TV. The kiss.wav sound effect is crunchy as he plants a kiss in return.
His other hand makes its way down the covered wires and tubes of his neck, playing with the edge of his tie. It’s a silly gaudy thing. Now that TV Time has moved locations, Tenna is being a bit experimental with his dress code. Today's tie is black with glass beakers filled with all sorts of vivid colored liquids. He wants it off.
Tenna screen is starting to bloom in a hue of pinks. A nervous smile creeps upon his features as he pulls back. "Was that too—?"
"ABSOLUTELY [[knots]] BUG." And he smiles back in turn, trying to turn the situation in his favor. "DON'T YOU [[apology accepted]], REMEMBER?"
"Yes, you're right!" The previously squiggly lines of his smile seem to smooth out as his grin widens. His color has not dimmed, especially now that Spamton seems to be loosening his tie with his deft little fingers.
"NOW [[come one, come all]] OVER HERE YOU BIG GLOOBY GUY." The tie is discarded quickly into the floor and, after being set back down on the bed, the coat follows. He allows Tenna the same access in letting him remove his coat as well.
It seems the CRT is finally back to a pleasant mood. Good, he plans to keep it that way.
"WHEN'S THE [[last chance]]] TIME YOU LET YOURSELF HAVE FUN?"
Tenna chuckles. "Not since you jumped me. I—even despite everything, I did have fun." He covers his smile as if that will hide the conflicting emotions that bubble forth on his screen.
"THEN LET ME [[hyperlink blocked]] YOU PROPERLY THIS TIME." Buttons are being fiddled with as he speaks, well ahead of himself.
"Oh…well, I think I can be persuaded."
"WELL LET ME GIVE YOU MY [[all sales final]] PITCH." Spamton crawls up further into his lap, closer to him. The hard plastic of his fingers trace along the exposed metal of Tenna's chest, encircling his hatch but never going further. Another hand slides along the plastic of his head's casing. Lifting his own head, he brings his perpetual grin up against the glass of Tenna's screen. A tongue inky and wet tests the waters against Tenna's projected lips. The static is delightful against it, sensation stronger than compared to his body. It takes little prompting for Tenna to part his lips accepting his invitation.
Their tongues find each other easily and it's almost as if they never left one another. Memories flood back: a ten minute break between shoots, after hours in Tenna's office, pinned desperately in a broom closet at some wrap-up party. Those little stolen moments the two had in their glory days. He remembers Tenna's hunger. He remembers his own desperation, and the way it grew after every encounter between them when he thought every kiss could have been his last. His heart-shaped object seizes at the feeling and he licks deeper at the synthetic mouth he's laying claim to.
The air passing between them is thick with the scent of something vaguely sweet. Perhaps some kind of cleaner used to spray into his casing between uses. Or maybe it's an odd smell of dust in some forgotten corner of the old monitor now being heated up by their passion. Either way, Spamton finds himself addicted to the taste.
He is here. He is here. Touch him. Taste him. Feel that he is alive.
He can feel Tenna's hand cradling the back of his head. It's delicate at first and fingers scrape against his scalp before he feels the pull. A soft moan gets pulled out alongside it and it passes between them.
Spamton cannot help his hand already on Tenna's body that wanders along the seams where metal meets the elastic fabric he knows to belong to one particular television's girdle. Tenna shifts, perhaps in surprise but does not recoil like before. Spamton understands this feeling rather well and he knows that the permission he's being given is no small feat.
The kiss must be broken for the garment to come off and Tenna whines at the loss of his tongue. 'Oh Spamton G. Spamton you've still got it.' The thought sits giddy in his mind. A large hand comes up to cover a corner of his screen, an action he teases him a little for. “FEELING SHY CATHODE?” He takes his moment to savor the feeling of the clasps being uncinched one by one and of the eyeless gaze now heavy upon him.
Tenna's soft plastic midsection spills out when at last the last clasp is undone. The shutter of breath from the TV is barely audible as Spamton takes in the sight up close.
It's not hard to remember the words Tenna practically spat at him when he last saw this. 'I guess now that you've seen it, fine, go ahead and laugh.' Now though, the mood was different. Spamton ran his fingers softly over the expanse of stomach that was soft and warped in places.
Leaning in he rubbed the side of his face along it, really taking in the feeling of his body. He could hear the other make a soft 'Oh' at the touch. Maybe Spamton liked it because it was some kind of proof that Tenna had changed too, that time had not stood as still as he thought it had. His fingers trailed all the way as far as his arms can reach, one could almost mistake this for an embrace. Or maybe he liked it because he'd come to love Tenna and all that he was.
Unsure if the other will recognize it as one, Spamton presses his teeth against the plastic of his stomach in a kiss. When he looks back up, Tenna is beaming at him. Unable to contain it, a flower has sprouted at the tip of his nose too.
"Spammy…" Tenna smiles and removes the hand on his face to smooth Spamton's hair, except that it continues to travel down along his back until it rests at the edge of his pants. Spamton can feel him playing with the waistband, fingers dipping in search of the base of his tail. "My mailman, how I've missed you."
Tenna's other hand cradles the side of his face. The size feels comforting, and he leans into it despite himself.
Wait—no, he's supposed to be focusing on Tenna! He's already getting lost in the touches. Quickly, he needs some space.
"[[hold for applause]] TENS, I WAS IN THE MIDDLE OF MY [[specil deal]]." He tries to wriggle out of Tenna's hold but Tenna holds fast.
"And I like your offer; however…" Tenna pauses, the gaze he's giving him is somewhat mischievous. "I'd like to offer a counteroffer of my own." It's not even difficult for the larger darkener to switch their positions as he's moved further up the bed.
The TV is simply looming over him now. Removing Spamton's shirt with ease, there's now a level of exposure he's not sure how to deal with. Tenna leans in to kiss at the junction of his neck humming pleasantly against the plating. It feels too intimate. It feels a little terrifying. When Tenna goes in for another kiss, a hand stops him.
Tenna's expression contorts in confusion. "Spam, what's wrong?"
And maybe he's not sure how to articulate it, this feeling of self-worth. That after all this time and all this affection he still thinks this way. The big guy has made his feelings pretty obvious all night, it was just him fighting it. What was he even fighting?
"I JUST DONT—"
Tenna turns his screen to kiss the offending hand. One kiss turns into a trail down his little arm. "Just let me love you."
The air catches in his body. He realizes there is still a part of him that believes he doesn't deserve this but he loses all strength when faced against more kisses, up to his shoulder this time. The screen against his body radiates warmth. Even the air out of Tenna's vents is hot against him when the other changes direction and begins kissing down his torso.
He's so close, he can surely see all of Spamton's imperfections. 'Don’t look, no don't—I'm not—' Even though Spamton keeps his thoughts bottled up, his body squirms at the contact. It's neither a good nor bad motion.
The lips tingle pleasantly, oh it feels good. He thinks maybe he sighed. There's still a war going on inside of him. A stab of happiness is followed by a feeling of shame that there's nothing of value here to give anymore. Is Tenna doing this out of some sort of obligation? To make him feel better after his outbursts tonight? Each tender action elicits another wave of contradictions inside of him.
Fingers now trace along the joints of his arms and body in addition to the kisses. It causes him to subconsciously shiver. He had not realized how sensitive his joints were.
He's got to—he's got to say something. "ANT PLEASE," is what he manages to croak out and the other does stop. "I HAVE NO [[value deals]] ANYMORE. I DON'T EVEN KNOW IF I CAN [[get your rocks off]]." The deep-seated fear of being a disappointment sits heavier than even Tenna's weight on him does. "I CHANGED TOO MUCH."
Tenna's arms wrap around his midsection and it's hilarious how this massive man attempts to rub his face into his smaller body, nose comically pressed against his stomach. The last of his petals tumble against his body. Maybe he's shrunk slightly, it’s become hard to tell. "I don't care about that" His voice comes out as almost a whimper. "I love you so much. I don't care if you've changed. I wanna love you anyway. Please let me."
Spamton puts a hand on the top of his boxy head. He can only hope it comes across as assuring.
"Even back then you were elusive. You shied away from my touch and redirected that affection back to me. At the time I just wanted you beside me so I said nothing and did nothing. I was weak, and in many ways I'm still just as weak. But I'm done letting these feelings pass me by."
Tenna shifted slightly. If he had eyes they would be looking at him, Spamton could tell that much so he didn't look away either.
"I want to see you just as you are…in the present. Even if things don't work out, we can try again. I'll try as many times as we need. I'll prove to you that you can teach an old TV new tricks! So won't you at least let me try?"
And oh…
Spamton's insides spin. Gears and goop and whatever fuck all is in there now, it's all been flipped. Can he really allow himself this?
He owes it to Tenna.
No!
He owes it to himself.
"0K 0K DO YOUR WORST CATHODE." It is a final veneer of bravado he can manage.
With that the pants are off and he's laid bare upon the bed. 'Relax, Tenna has seen this before. Tenna has seen this before.'
He's not sure what he expected Tenna to do now, but he's surprised when the TV's motions continue to be slow and exploratory. Fingers grazing against the smooth plains of his body, catching against every nick and scratch. A shattered knee from getting thrown out of a high floor from the Queen's mansion, the remainder of a nasty puncture wound on his shoulder courtesy of the Tasques set upon him, or the warping to his legs due to a little dip in the free pool; they were all reminders of his failures. At that time he was single-minded in his pursuit of Neo and it led him to neglecting a lot of things. Who cares what happens to this body now if he could get that new one. Neo was all that mattered.
But Neo was gone now and all that was left now were the scars and the pain they brought. Being made to face them and to have someone else see them, it felt like being pried open and it hurt. The kisses that followed, like little band-aids against the wound, made it bearable. A crackly noise akin to a whimper passed his clenched teeth.
Even though Tenna was staring at all the places he touched, he did not stop, and… did this make Spamton happy? To know that he wasn't going to stop at every single noise and fret as if Spamton were made out of porcelain. His body clicked and shuttered.
Never in his life had he been studied so thoroughly. He felt it a mercy when he was finally flipped over. At least now he would not be forced to watch Tenna watch him.
His body freezes though when he hears Tenna gasp ever so slightly, fingers tracing perfect lines against his upper back. It had—it had been a long time since he had acknowledged those particular scars. They were the only ones there whose placement was out of his control entirely. They were also his earliest ones.
Thin lines marked his back from where he once struggled futilely against his puppet strings. They held him tightly in place, slicing patterns into his body keeping him immobilized when it was needed. The strings were gone now but like everything else it was a reminder that despite the height he had once achieved, he never had any real power.
There's a slight tremor in Tenna's hands as he follows the final line to its completion. Spamton can feel the warmth before lips even touch him. It consumes him and he basks in it like one would the light of the sun.
"Spam…even after everything I've seen, I still never could have imagined." The words hum across the plastic. "I'm so sorry that I could not be there for you when—when you needed me most."
Spamton says nothing. Tenna does not press him.
Kisses pepper down every little detail of his back and the ache inside of him fades now into euphoric contentment. Tenna holds the entirety of his hips within his grasp. All of his fingers are put to work rubbing circles against anything they can touch. A large thumb massages a path leading down to the base of his little plastic tail.
Fuck, as much as it embarrassed him, Tenna had loved that thing. The appendage was just a shell of its former self now. Spamton had rather complicated feelings about it at one time, but like many of his issues that once seemed so important, fate had a way of making it less of a big deal.
The sheer idea of Tenna giving it attention made it start to slowly wag. From this angle Tenna shouldn't be able to see its effect on Spamton's composition so he let it slide. He couldn't control that thing any more than he could control his own heart-shaped object.
Tenna's fingers gracefully traced the shape of his smooth tail as if reacquainting himself with it. The whole thing could fit between his fingers like a cheap cigar. One kiss at the base of his tailbone, then two. He could feel the hot air coming out of Tenna's mouth with every kiss. With the third he could feel something wet and warm against the underside of his tail. Spamton shuttered.
The tongue, tingling with static, can easily encompass his tail. Testing, he licks it from base to tip. He can feel the tongue graze the spot between his legs as it goes back for another taste. There's nothing there to stimulate and yet the motion leaves something delightfully raw in its wake. His breath hitches and he's not sure how muffled it was.
Tenna continues unbothered, the flat of his tongue dragging slowly against the underside of his tail. The heat of the TV was unmistakable as it enveloped his backside. Then he felt it, sharp canines scratching against the top of his tail now with the utmost care. Spamton could not help the bit crushed but needy noise that came out of his little body at that.
It was all the permission Tenna needed. His mouth closed against the wriggling appendage. Teeth and tongue worked in tandem to softly devour that part of him. What once was a low buzz of static had now grown in something much more intense, vibrating along the plating with each push of his tongue. All he could think was how good it felt and how badly it made him want to rut his body against something like a feral creature.
A hand cupped the plastic of his ass. Once it was soft and plump, less so now. "YOU ALWAYS LIKED MY [[holiday ham 89¢/lb]]," he groaned in an attempt to mask the nervousness and excitement waging war inside of him.
Mouth full, his hand clamped down, as if to say 'I still do,' nails scraping down the hard planes. It was comparatively a duller sensation but it could still be felt and most of all it wasn't unwelcome.
Tenna finally relinquishes his tail, still furiously wagging and slick with his electrically charged spit. Kisses and teeth move up and around his backside. Even the joint of his lower back is not spared as Tenna finds a way to jamb his tongue between the interlocking plates there and lick at something unprotected inside. There's a yelp of surprise at the feeling.
From his buttocks he feels those hands move to the underside of his knee joints, soothing the location and manhandling his scarred leg in the process. 'Is Tenna enjoying this?' Spamton thinks as he feels his leg rotated around in its socket in slow circles. What is that ridiculous cathode doing?
Then he feels the catch of that large tongue slipping between anywhere it can find along that hip joint like he's looking for something. The invasion causes him to shake a little in the rising sensation of pleasure. It's not quite anything concrete but it's still more than he anticipated.
The TV lets out a huff and Spamton barely has any time to process its meaning before he's flipped again. The exposure causes him to flush harder than he had before. Before he even knows he's doing it, a hand darts up to cover part of his face.
"Now who's being shy?" There's an almost excitable smugness to Tenna's voice as he looks down on Spamton.
He tries not to give Tenna the satisfaction, but it's impossible at this point. Anything he does would just further fuel the larger Darkener's ego. "0K 0K U BIG BUG! YOU GONNA [[catch these deals]] OR WHAT?!"
"Oh are you sure you're ready for this upcoming physical challenge?"
"CAN IT BOOB TUBE. I TOLD YOU—" his voice was cut off as Tenna descended upon his mouth in pure hunger. Kisses peppered all over him, forcibly removing the hand from his face. Spamton only has time to open his mouth before the large synthetic tongue invades it.
There's undeniable power behind Tenna's motions now. He really isn't holding back anymore. That tongue would choke him out if he needed to breathe and he gave it his all to not be outright consumed. Fuck his mouth is just so big!
Claws trail threadbare lines down his side as another hand possessively holds onto his face. The kisses and nibbles that trail down his neck now are wet, a mixture of both of their weird saliva. Spamton feels like a dog toy.
The pink tinted screen absolutely glows with warmth that he can feel it all the way down his body even in the places where there is no contact. As his head dips lower, Spamton takes this time to grab his antennas. There's barely a flinch out of the big guy, but the lack of reaction doesn't dissuade him as he fondles the end of one. This causes a rumbling groan to travel along his stomach.
Tenna has become an unmovable machine now hellbent on a single location as he narrows in on the area of plating between Spamton's thighs. The hot puffs of air coming from the TV's vents is borderline searing. Tenna better not explode right before the good part!
That tongue crackling with pent up electricity goes down on him with force. The energy disperses on contact and it feels intense in ways he didn't think were possible. A garbled hiccup of a thing slips out.
"?!$@! [[10% OFF!!]]!" He can't help the jolt of his hips at the sensation. Tenna is being none-to-gentle with his tongue. Circling it and lapping at the dark plastic. This is very much a good thing. Every lick consumes more of him as he reaches into the cracks in his shell. The joint connection between his groin and inner thigh is especially sensitive and his reactions aren't lost on his companion.
Spamton wants to squirm and kick out at the rise in pressure he's feeling. He hasn't felt this way in years not since—no it was too long ago. He's changed too much. Tenna will surely stop when it's become too long, too much. He can't—not like before. This body can't provide the feedback he wants it to.
A small glitch trails across his body, nothing painful, just enough to remind him of what he is.
There is nothing but smooth plastic, there is nothing there! Regardless, that tongue never stops, and occasionally teeth stop to nibble against his thigh. The intense pleasure caps itself in his gut like he's reached some kind of wall. It feels good, it feels undeniably good but it's just not quite there. He doesn't understand why. What Tenna is doing, it's amazing. He's suddenly scared. 'Please Tens, don't stop,' he wants to sob out. He wants to beg for forgiveness for taking so much of Tenna's time for a fool's errand.
Tongue and lips and teeth relentless, stubborn. The hold Spamton has on those antennas tighten, something about it grounds him. An old Darkener mantra that he's only useful for what he can provide sinks back in. Wires are stuffed haphazardly between his teeth and this time Tenna takes notice with a moan. Pleasing Tenna is familiar after all, almost second nature. It gives him something to concentrate on outside of his thoughts.
"Spammy…" his name, a whimper against his body, drips with desire. He goes back to his task with renewed enthusiasm.
Stupid TV, doesn't he know that it's not worth the effort? Another glitchy tremor runs through him and it causes him to bite down harder than he means to. The force of which boomerangs back to him when Tenna subsequently unleashes an accidental electrical spark into the sensitive joint of his thigh. The current chases through him, the sludge of his body a perfect conductor as it bounces off his gears. The noise he makes is unrecognizable.
Tenna, for all intents and purposes, pulls back and Spamton's muddled mind cannot help but panic. The antenna gets released in the process. Oh this is it! Their bodies are too incompatible now and Tenna has realized just how broken he is. He shouldn't have gotten his hopes up. This is why he never—
"Don’t give me that face Spammy," his voice is soft despite everything currently happening. "I have an idea. A bonus round!"
Spamton doesn't even realize he was making a face. He watches as Tenna fiddles with the hatch on his chest with mild curiosity. When he's caught looking, Tenna only smiles back at him, mischievously.
He keeps watching as the hatch is opened and he reaches a hand inside. Tenna appears to be in deep concentration as he rummages around inside of himself. Antennae twitch and Spamton can tell he's desperately trying to keep some sort of composition together. Is this motherfucker playing with himself, right now of all times?! Something akin to a frustrated huff comes out.
"Hold on," Tenna's voice is definitely restrained. "Almost ready." He gasps suddenly as his hand makes a jerking motion. Tenna then produces a thin wire, unplugged from his chest, pulling it out as far as it will go.
Spamton watches him intently as he leans back down with the utmost care.
"I just want to try something. Is that alright?"
"YOU DON'T NEED MY [[permission granted]]. JUST DO IT." He's not even sure if he's being snippy out of nervousness or frustration, either way Tenna pays him no mind which he's glad for.
"Here we go!"
Spamton and Tenna both gasp as Tenna touches his puppet joints with the end of his plug. Electric current swims around inside of him in small bursts. He can feel the other trembling slightly as he traces it along the sensitive seams.
'The arch of that TV's body looks fantastic', Spamton thinks before he's forced to shut his eyes tight, squirming in the aftershock of pleasure himself. It's overpowering his little body. Gears feel over-clocked as wave after wave of sensation washes over him. He feels self-conscious of the glitchy little moans that leave his mouth. What if some horrid noise comes out of him? Does he fight against the current or just let it take him?
Everything in him shutters and he trashes.
There's a whisper said against his body, "I've got you." Those projected static lips kiss his face tenderly.
Spamton tries to concentrate, really he does! Focus, focus. He feels the plug glide against his inner thigh and the current move though him rhythmically almost like a heartbeat. He can hear the other gasping in pleasure as well. Something in him wriggles but there's also panic like he's already become accustomed to the electricity, more walls, more frustration.
And yet something new happens. No sooner than Spamton thinks that his heart-shaped object feels like it's going to beat out of his chest, it does! Busting past the confines of his body the little thing springs forth with an attempt to smooch the darkener above him. Spamton can only garble something incomprehensible in response, his entire face going red.
"Oh my goodness, Spamton!" The little green heart kisses him on the screen with a giggle and he laughs back. Tenna can easily hold it within his hand, a sensation which the puppet very much feels.
Wire now forgotten, all of Tenna's attention seems to be on that silly thing. Fingers caress its shape and follow the chain down almost down into the inky abyss of his chest cavity. Such a feeling, it's like he is caressing the very deepest parts of Spamton's body and it causes him to shutter anew.
"Spammy… it's so—" Tenna mutters softly and it's almost too quiet as his fingers trace the cracks of the object in his hand. He decides not to continue this train of thought in favor of giving it a kiss. Spamton's entire body seizes in response.
"Tens…" Spamton finally opens his eyes just enough to look up at Tenna who's looking back at him mostly in adoration but with a hint of mischief in his projected face. He wants too much at this moment. Words fail him.
Tenna kisses it again and it practically hums in response, resonating to the affection. Again and again, more kisses, each new time with increased fervor. When that large tongue hits his heart-shaped object, he is trembling in the euphoria it brings. Somehow Tenna has reduced him to a moaning mess digging its way into the sheets of the bed.
Grabbing the fabric underneath him isn't enough and a hand reaches out for something, anything that will help. He feels the smooth casing of a wire and squeezes it like a lifeline. A deep, hot groan reverberates against that heart and he feels sharp teeth against it.
Spamton's orgasm hits him like a freight train. He feels a sudden drop down in his horrid insides like the floor has left him, and then the flood. Every lap of Tenna's tongue is a new ebbing wave of intense pleasure. He feels it and it just doesn't stop. 'Move away, move away!' His body screams at him as it rolls into overstimulation but he cannot. Tenna has him caught in place. Deep down Spamton prefers it this way though, this fantastic release, please, please don't stop.
He begins to babble, nonsense words at first but soon enough they take shape. Spamton calls out Tenna's name and he thinks he feels the other freeze initially before continuing at a slower pace. Rocking and shuttering fragments of the words 'Tens', 'Ant', 'fuck', and 'love you' are whispered like a prayer.
Tenna is there as the pleasure simmers down to a smoulder. His lips kiss at Spamton's face wet with tears and drool and who knows what else along with the whispers of 'I got you' and 'my precious mailman'. A very satisfied heart-shaped object is laid back to rest within Spamton's chest, closing it up.
Once more lips down his body, almost dreamlike. With a deep breath Spamton is refocusing, when a sudden 'Oh!' from Tenna yanks him back to reality. The lower half of his body is wet, why is he wet? This causes him to sit upright and stare at the offending area.
An inky black mucous-like substance appears to be leaking from the joints around his thighs. He grimaces, disgusting!
He's not fast enough to stop Tenna though. There's almost a possessiveness in the motion, as that silicone tongue darts out against his smooth groin to steal the substance away.
Spamton brings up a hand too late to push him off, face still scarlet. "[[Ant farm]] WHAT D0 U THINK YOU'RE [[all you can eat buffet]]?!"
Tenna gives him that puppy dog expression like Spamton is the one being unreasonably here. "I just wanted a taste."
"IT'S [[warning]] GROSS TENS!"
The big TV just pokes his fingers together with a pout. "Well I don't think it is."
Spamton tries to come back with a counter but even just the idea that Tenna doesn't think it’s nasty flusters him too much to think properly. Instead he covers his face with a groan. "WHATEVER." He suddenly realized how tired he had become to put up much of a fight now anyway.
Lazily, he watches as Tenna puts his hanging wire back into place with a click, closing up the hatch. Never before has it ever felt quite like that! There's a tenderness still in his insides. It's a good tender though, a reminder of being loved. He knows it will fade too quickly.
A sudden bolt of realization hits him. "[[Don't wait]]! I STILL NEED TO [[get your kicks on]]."
"Spam," Tenna only smiles back and it's serene. A hand comes up to stroke his face. "Whatever gave you the idea that I didn't?" His screen hums a shade of pink. "I don't think I could do better myself if I tried. Maybe you were just having too much fun yourself to notice." He tone and expression come across as teasing now.
Spamton punches him weakly in the chest before buying his face in the soft plastic of his stomach. Tenna just laughs and he can feel the sound reverberating where they're touching. A comforting hand weaves fingers through his hair and it makes him want to nestle in further and live there forever. If Tenna asked he would just blame these sappy feelings on the orgasm but he's sure they both know.
Every inch of his head is being massaged. The warm comfort of the CRT nearly puts him to sleep when Tenna's hand stills. "WAT DID YOU [[stop the presses]] FOR?"
"Spammy! Your hair!" His fingers brush the hair around in a more prying manner especially around the root. "I think it's turning white!"
Not possible! Spamton straightens his body up and, before Tenna can stop him, yanks out a few strands of hair to examine.
"I wish you wouldn't do that."
Tenna's words are largely brushed aside as he examines the hair. Not all of them but a few really are starting to whiten near the base. What the fuck does that even mean?! He looks back up at Tenna who's looking down at him.
Unable to process this revelation, he flops back into Tenna's embrace. He only has to motion with his head a few times before Tenna understands. The large pads of his fingers massage the spot where Spamton ripped the hair from and he melts back into the touch.
A part of him doesn't want to get his hopes up about it but another small voice tells him to look around and see where hope got him. The heaven he was searching for so desperately, it always existed but never in the way he thought it did. This right here, is true heaven.
He curls his body closer against the TV causing Tenna to reach down and cradle him closer with his other arm. Warm, safe, content. Sleep always seems to come easy to him when he's with Tenna, just like in the good ol' days. Whatever sounds come out of him now are none of his concern as he starts to doze off.