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“Spamtooon?”
Shit.
Not really ‘shit,’ but that’s Tenna’s “I’m searching for you to bother you” voice. He can’t say it’s not nice, to be bothered. To be searched for.
…well. Meaningfully searched for.
But this time, Spamton scuttles closer to the pillow, nestling himself under the fabric. Maybe Tenna won't notice…?
Sleeping. Sleeping is nice. He forgot how nice sleeping could actually be. How quiet, how soft, how…safe. No scratching sounds. No slime dripping (or sometimes raining) down on you. And Tenna’s bed is enormous—it’s a hard debate, convincing him to go anywhere else but here.
“Spam, you in here?”
He hears the light flick on, and without thinking, he tenses. It’s not quite a laugh, but it’s not quite a sigh he hears from the other side of the room, large footsteps growing closer. It’s more complex than that. Something Spamton understands.
All things considered.
A few days have passed, since he’s started living with Tenna again. Big changes for the both of them. Adjustments. Finding comfortable familiarity.
“You…still sleeping?”
“…”
Spamton crawls out from his spot, sitting up with a stretch. His joints pop—he’s careful the sockets don’t get dislodged again.
“NOT ANYMORE WITH ALL THAT [[hoopla]]!”
“Sorry,” Tenna chuckles, sitting on the bed, the weight shifting considerably. It’s now that Spamton notices a bag in Tenna’s hands, not terribly large. A gift bag, with a big blue bow.
“…IS IT MY [[birthday coupon]]?”
“It’s a housewarming! Gift!” Tenna starts, holding the bag in awkward presentation. “Which uh, I know is a little late, but…I figured you wanted time to rest.”
A correct assumption. A better assumption when Tenna gently reaches a hand out, carding through Spamton’s hair. Christ, he’s missed the weight of his touch.
“[[What’s my prize??]]”
“It’s nothing crazy, don’t get too excited…that sounds bad. I mean. I think you’ll like it! I was just thinking about…things, and how to…make you more comfortable!”
Oh.
Spamton waits, eyes on the bag as Tenna reaches inside.
“Things I thought would make it feel more like…home. And give you a fresh start.”
Out comes a comb. And a very nice one, at that. It shines gold in the overhead light. Spamton’s eyes widen as Tenna passes it over. It’s a manageable size, for his new body. He turns it over a few times before looking up to Tenna with his as-much-as-he-can-genuinely-smile smile.
“[[Thanks!]] YOU.”
“Oh, but that’s not all!”
Warmth blooms as Tenna seems to relax, the initial nerves of presenting the gift gone as his more playful side takes hold.
“Tell me, Mr. Spamton. What’s better than a new comb?”
“A NEW CAR?”
“…ha ha! True!! Very true!!”
“GIMME THAT [[Key Item]] AND LET’S GO FOR A [[Ride around town]]!”
“…pajamaaaaas,” Tenna laughs, voice softer as Spamton laughs and glitches. “For all your sleepy-time needs!”
The pajamas are simple. White shirt and pants, patterned with blue stripes. Soft threading, light in his hands. Inevitably very comfortable for when he goes back to sleep right after this.
Exceptionally thoughtful.
“…”
“…if you don’t like them—!”
“I [[Like and su—]]” Spamton starts, stopping, a huff. “I. LOVE ‘EM.”
“Really?”
Spamton nods, setting the clothing down to the sheets
“MIGHT HAVE TO TAKE THE [[head of sales]] OFF TO [[turn change to CASH]], BUT I DO. I LOVE ‘EM.”
Tenna tried.
Spamton knows he tried to hide the horror he felt. No one else would’ve caught it, not on Tenna’s eyeless screen, but Spamton knows him too well, and he also knows Tenna feels awful right now for even letting a millisecond of it show.
“…right! The—The head hole, I didn’t think about that—I’m so—“
“I GOT A BIG OL’ NOGGIN NOW.”
“Y-Yeah!”
“COMES RIGHT OFF.”
“…and…it doesn’t hurt?
Spamton watches him keep that smile glued on, an ache stirring in his heart, the reminder that things are different now. He is different now. Now and forever. That no matter what he does or says, Tenna will never—
“—because if so, that sounds like you’d get a splitting headache!”
“…”
Spamton’s eyes widen, static clearing from his vision at Tenna’s joke…his corny joke, but his joke, nonetheless. His joke about Spamton and his form. And aside from the nerves, his tension waiting for him to react, it feels so like home that Spamton grins.
“WAY TO PICK ON [[the little guy]]!”
Relief.
With a new normal happily established, Tenna finally relaxes.
“Or ya know??” he says, picking up the shirt. “I could open up the back? So you can wear it like your jacket!”
“NAH. IT’S PERFECT.”
“Ya sure??”
“YES I’M [[&$@%ing]] SURE, JEEZ.”
“Oh, what a great segue,” Tenna chuckles, smirking as he reaches back into the bag. “You have no idea.”
“THERE’S [[Wait! There’s more]]?
“Of course. What better way to settle in for a good night’s rest than to clean up that filthy mouth with—!”
Spamton’s eyes widen as the next two items come out—a brand new toothbrush with an icy blue handle (matching the PJ’s, Tenna must have thought), and a tube of toothpaste. Cinnamon, specifically. His old favorite. He can’t remember the last time he tasted it. Well, probably would’ve been—
“Everyone knows wherever these guys live is where you call home!” Tenna says, voice still light, but smiling warmly. “Right? So…welcome home, Spam.”
He takes the toothbrush quietly, mulling over it as well as Tenna’s meaning. To have a home. A place to sleep. Someone to come back to.
A sink, and his own toothbrush sitting at it.
“…and! I’ll um, you’ll need a stepladder or something, right? Or…gosh, probably just a ladder ladder. Whatever the difference is…or maybe I can have Ralsei make a smaller sink?? Yeah, just copy the tall sink. Sorry about everything being so high up, just in general—“
“[[10%]]?”
“Y-Yes?”
So eager.
Spamton smiles. Choosing his next words carefully will make the difference of getting a basic task done or a hole in the ceiling.
“I WANNA GIVE THIS [[little baby]] A WHIRL. IT’S BEEN—AWHILE…”
“Yeah?” Tenna nods, already getting up. “Okay! Great!”
“AND SEEING AS I’VE BEEN [[blessed]] TO BE THE SIZE OF A [[marketable plushie]], I SEE ONLY ONE WAY TO DO THIS.”
“…?”
Spamton holds his arms up, trying not to laugh at how quickly Tenna’s face lights up into a grin.
“UNTIL WE GET THAT LADDER [[Installation successful]].”
“Oh, yes sir!” Tenna practically giggles. Spamton can feel him buzzing, the energy in his fingers as Tenna carefully scoops him up. He’s high. Higher. Higher—
“WATCH YOUR HEAD!”
“Sorryyyy~” Tenna teehees, not sorry in the slightest.
“YOU’RE TOO [[Excited??]] TO BE HOLDING A GROWN-ASS MAN.”
“Yeeeaaah~”
“...NOT EVEN GONNA FIGHT ME ON IT?”
“Nooo~”
…
It’s overwhelming, how much Spamton wants to kiss him. The feeling didn’t present itself right away, on delay, but it comes, amongst feelings associated with many other memories. The heady scent of cologne. The heat from a spotlight. The fuzzy static of a screen, in a kiss. A sweet kiss. A charged kiss. A kiss, a kiss, Oh…Heaven, a kiss. He hasn’t thought about a kiss in so long, and suddenly, the moment Tenna’s holding him, it’s all on his mind.
…
This body wasn’t made with affection in mind. He knows it’s the absolute opposite. He’s sharp angles. A hard surface. His voice is loud, grating.
He’s gotten over himself, made peace with how physically hideous he is. Tenna certainly made that apparent (though unintentionally). Something he seems hellbent on making up for, clearly…
It’s hard to accept that his actions aren’t out of pity, but it’s even harder to accept they’re out of…something else. Something Spamton is afraid they might not really be, yet wants them to be so badly it aches.
Tenna sets him carefully to the countertop. He could take a nice soak in Tenna’s basin…
“Alright, all the goods are here!” The bag crinkles as Tenna sets it down, starts taking the items out one by one. Spamton is watching him, but he’s also taking the chance to look over all of Tenna’s own products. A bottle of light blue liquid with an atomizer—his home concoction of diluted glass cleaner. Microfiber face masks, to protect from dust in his sleep. A red toothbrush that’s only a few inches shorter than Spamton is tall, suddenly joined with a clink by the smaller, icy blue one.
His eyes drift naturally to the mirror, his visage starkly contrasting the neatness around him. Tenna behind him, beaming softly, looking proudly at the pair of toothbrushes.
“Home sweet home~”
Home…
Spamton looks to Tenna’s reflection with a smile.
“IT’S GREAT.”
“Here!!”
Tenna slides the comb to Spamton, who laughs.
“YOU SUPERVISING?”
“…I mean I can go, if you want.”
“I DIDN’T SAY THAT. I JUST FIGURED YOU GOT BETTER THINGS TO DO.”
Tenna’s expression in the mirror falters before settling on a softer smile. The kind of smile when he’s feeling all dopey and sappy.
“That’s you.”
Spamton makes a sound like he’s pretending to throw up from the sap, much to Tenna’s amusement.
“I’m serious! I know we…talked already, but…”
But.
Spamton looks at Tenna, how he purses his lips, thinks over his words.
“…it’s just—nice. Being close to you again. But I can give you space, if—!”
“[[I! Have had! Enough!]] SPACE. STAY…"
Spamton finally breaks his gaze, that same ache ringing in his chest.
This comb. It isn’t Tenna-sized, but it also isn’t Spamton-sized either. It’s manageable! It becomes something of a two-hands-needed effort, though, a sound of exertion as he runs it through his coif, the teeth catching on a few stray tangles. He swipes, collects himself, swipes, gets a better angle, swipes, pauses. All the while, Tenna watches silently from the doorframe.
“THIS IS A GODDAMN [[90 Day Workout]]!”
“I-I can try to find a smaller comb! I guess I thought—“
“IT’S NOT THE COMB. IT’S MY ARMS.”
“Oh,” Tenna murmurs quietly. For someone without eyes, he still feels Tenna’s gaze rove over him.
Spamton concedes, knowing getting the back of his head will be too much of a challenge, and not wanting Tenna to see any more of his struggling; he’s gripping his arms gently, like he wants very badly to speak up.
…
Spamton crosses the countertop to retrieve the toothbrush.
…
Hesitates.
It’s not as if he really even has teeth. He eats, but the teeth are just for showing. This body wasn’t meant for self-maintenance, after all. Arms jointed too stiffly to reach everywhere. Head too large. It’s just going to end up the same, isn’t it?
“…Spam—”
“[[Check it out]]!!”
Tenna makes an admittedly cute sound of surprise as Spamton’s head floats off his body with a loud CLICK. He grins as he settles onto the countertop, opening wide as he guides his body down with the toothbrush.
“SEE? [[Easy money]]!!”
“Wow!” Tenna’s voice is equal parts impressed as well as concerned. “You really—yeah! Handy!!”
Spamton focuses his body, both hands on the brush. Gotta get the right angle, the right pressure.
...
“[[$+!&]]!!” he swears as his head is nudged back about an inch.
“Are you ok—??”
“I’M FINE.”
“…”
That nervous grip tightens.
Please.
Please don’t ask.
He could just tell him to go away, that’s a much easier option. He can say it in nicer words, if he can find them, but…he doesn’t want to send Tenna away. If they’re going to live together again, it’ll be impossible to hide any of this shit from him forever.
Might as well get the ugliest parts out of the way.
He opens his mouth wide, wide, wide. His body could stand inside, if he wanted it to.
“…very convenient!!!”
The positive spin, while a little annoying, is also very Tenna. Spamton appreciates the effort.
Okay.
The brush goes in, making contact with the back teeth for a moment, but the same problem persists. Spamton’s head goes back and forth, no real progress being made. He’d have to hold himself still, but he needs both hands on the damn brush—or—
“Do—?”
Don’t, please.
“...”
Tenna falls silent, mouth fading, as if hearing Spamton’s silent plea.
But the grip is a clutch now.
He’s fighting very hard against what he wants to do, for Spamton’s sake.
“…”
Spamton still only pushes himself around. He may as well be fucking curling with own head. He sighs, a huff of frustration, a censored curse under his breath as he floats his head back on with a loud POP.
“I’LL [[go figure]] IT OUT...”
“It’s okay! I…I should’ve gotten a shorter one! Or…maybe I can break it?? Yeah!”
“DON’T DO THAT.”
“You don’t want me to break it?”
“I DON’T NEED—“
…
Spamton stops, eyes slipping closed. Words. Get them. Things are better. He’s better.
“…I. KNOW. YOU WANT TO [[Help]].”
Tenna stiffens.
“I KNOW. IT’S...HARD. TO [[Watch out!!]].”
“Spamton,” Tenna gasps, sadness evident in his tone.
Spamton has to look away.
Maybe Tenna doesn’t think it’s bad. Maybe not now, but he might later…and he probably will, right? Once more of Spamton’s problems arise. Once new ones reveal themselves. Eventually, Tenna, who shares his heart on his screen, will display that look, that awful look Spamton had grown immune to from passerby. The pitying glance. The backhanded sympathy. ‘That poor ugly thing,’ ‘How sad,’ as they keep walking, feeling sorry for him, but grateful for themselves. He almost preferred the plain disgust back then, compared to that. He could handle it.
But if it was Tenna?
…
“I CAN’T. DO. [[Everything 50%]]…..LIKE BEFORE.”
“…I know that. And I knew that when the kids brought you here.”
Spamton goes quiet as Tenna moves closer, crouches down.
“Spamton. I love you. That’s why you’re here—you know that, right? I missed you. You’re you, no matter what…shape you are. I just want—I want you to trust me, trust that I’m—“
“…”
He’s finding Spamton’s words, and they must taste awful, the way his face scrunches.
“…I want to help because I love you. Not because of…pity, or…I don’t know,” his voice trails off, and suddenly Spamton doesn’t have to look up as high. Tenna’s shrunken. “That’s not what you think, right?”
“…”
“…can I hold you?”
“…[[Don’t ask, don’t tell]]…”
Spamton is decisively cradled into an embrace, head resting on Tenna’s shoulder. His body is so warm, that thrum of moving parts and electronics so familiar and so comforting. Even as Spamton feels himself jittering with tension, he melts against him just the way he used to do.
“I didn’t want to bring it up right away because—there’s still so much happening, and it’s not just something to say after so long…”
“…NOT THE BEST [[Ice Breakers™]]” Spamton mumbles into his shoulder.
“Right?” Tenna laughs, voice thick. “Like…’Bathroom’s over here, this is your room, these are new sheets, I’m still in love with you, and if you need to adjust the thermostat—!‘“
Spamton’s laugh stutters and skips like a scratched disc, but Tenna laughs, too.
Love.
He knew. Again. He knows Tenna better than anyone. It’s so obvious in his words, his actions, his little touches. Everything about him since Spamton arrived has spilled love, love, love.
Letting him do nothing but sleep these last few days was love, even though he must so very badly have wanted him conscious.
Holding himself back for the sake of Spamton’s dignity was love.
This fucking toothbrush was love.
“…IT’S NOT GONNA BE [[preeeeetty~]].”
“You’ve seen me at my worst,” Tenna murmurs with a sniffle. A finger presses into Spamton’s back, rubbing a small circle. “Wasn’t even that long ago.”
“IT’D [[pissed]] YOU OFF.”
“Like I never pissed you off?” comes another soft laugh. “I ran TV World like a real…ya know.”
“[[—ille, and welcome to Jackass!]]”
Tenna squeezes him, the way he always used to when Spamton was having too much fun teasing him, and Spamton laughs, but Tenna stills.
“…if I can make things easier for you, in any way, I want to do it. And not for any reason other than I love you and think you deserve to be comfortable. But if being comfortable for you is letting you do things how you want, on your own…I’ll step back. I won’t bring it up again...I’ll love you however you need me to love you.”
“…”
“…if…you…want me to love you…I guess I shouldn’t just assume you still do.”
So confident and assured before, now suddenly hesitant. Spamton pushes himself back, enough to look at Tenna’s screen with eyes wide.
“ASSUME! ASSUME!”
“You still love me??”
“YES!”
“Really??”
“ARE YOU AN [[idiot box]]?? OF COURSE I DO.”
“I didn’t want to assume!!“
“YOU THINK ME THROWING MYSELF OUT IN THE [[Clopen]] FOR YOU WAS FOR [[&@%*^]] AND GIGGLES!?”
“I…I didn’t know!” Tenna reasons, his embrace tightening. “I didn’t…know…”
“…THAT WAS THE IDEA, SO…”
Spamton pats Tenna’s chest.
“HEY. IT WORKED OUT ANYWAY.”
“I’m sorry…”
“WE ALREADY DID ALL THAT CRAP, [[sit back, relax]]…”
“Okay…”
“AND DON’T KEEP THINKING ABOUT IT EITHER.”
“I won’t,” Tenna pouts.
“…'CAUSE IT DOESN’T MATTER ANYMORE. WE’RE [[right here, right now]].”
“…”
Spamton’s hand stops over Tenna’s heart, feeling it skip, as if predicting that Spamton wasn’t going to get through his next sentence.
“I STILL [[Love is in the air]]…YOU.”
Even botched, nothing else would’ve had the same effect on Tenna. He holds Spamton where he can really look at him, lip pouting, glass brimming with tears.
Spamton can't cry anymore, but he feels hot all over, and a burn behind his glasses. For the first time in a long time, he reaches out, hand coming to stroke Tenna’s monitor, and those big glooby tears finally slip way, staining the front of his shirt.
“…is it—okay if—?”
Spamton stops him. Stops his hushed question. Stops his forward lean. Stops Tenna cold with that same hand, now pressed flat on his surprised screen, his lips.
“…oh. I…o-of course, it’s been too long!! Gosh, what am I—haha!!”
“WOULD YOU [[Quit]] ASSUMING??”
“...huh??”
“YOU REALLY WANNA [[pucker up and kiss my @$$!!!] WITHOUT ME [[washing]] UP FIRST?”
“…”
“…TEN—“
“OH!” Tenna shouts. Spamton swears if he had a tail it’d be wagging. “I can—you wanna—we—??”
Spamton presses his face again, anxiety mixing with fondness. His eagerness hasn’t changed. In a way, neither has Spamton’s. So many memories of silencing an overexcited Tenna with a few words, a finger, a kiss.
…but as much as nothing about how they feel about each other has changed, everything else has.
“…JUST [[a little smooch]] TONIGHT…”
“Of course,” Tenna nods, like it’s nothing. Like he…really, truly isn’t bothered by Spamton, and this body. “Whatever you want. You call the shots!”
“I’M DONE WITH CALLS.”
“Spam.”
But he laughs softly when Spamton laughs.
…
Alright.
Spamton takes a breath, thinking of all the little pieces left, and trying force them out in the exhale. Not all of it goes away. It probably never will, but it’s enough to where he can say what he wants to say.
“…[[Help]] ME OUT?”
His upper bevel shoots up, until it comes back down in concern.
“Are you sure? I don’t want—only if you absolutely need me to.”
“I DON’T [[Absolutely!]] NEED YOU TO.”
“…good!” Tenna chirps, as if his antennae didn’t droop.
“BUT WHAT IF I WANT YOU TO?”
And before Tenna can double-down, Spamton shushes him. He falls into obedient silence, the corners of his mouth flickering into a smile.
“YES I’M SURE.”
“Yay!!”
“[[The roof! The roof! The roof is—]]!”
“Sorry, sorry!”
With a laugh, he sets Spamton down on the counter.
“So! Where should I start??”
Spamton takes inventory of himself. Good question. It’s not as if he had a road map for Tenna doting on him in such a…domestic way.
“I CAN [[gift]] YOU [[Full Access]],” he answers, head spinning as it CLICKS off into the air yet again.
“O-Oh!”
“GRAB ME AND MAKE ME [[shine]]!”
Tenna nods, looking somewhat uncertain as he takes the brush, then very gently reaching for Spamton’s head.
…
He stops short.
“Um…I-I think I can do it with your head on?”
Spamton frowns, and his body on the counter puts it hands on his hips.
“THIS IS EASIER!”
“…whaaaaat if easier isn’t better?”
Spamton blinks in confusion, but he floats back down and re-connects.
“I THOUGHT YOU WANTED [[mwahmwah.ogg]]?”
“…yeah,” Tenna admits. “But…we’re not rushing. Right? Can I show you?”
Spamton is more confused when Tenna holds out a hand, but he would never decline the offer.
“We can take our time.”
Oh.
…hm.
Spamton rolls that around in his detachable head for awhile. It’s…the truth. They have time, somehow. Time is a miracle to him. Time means safety. Time means rest. Time means maintenance and emotions and…Tenna.
No wonder all he’s wanted to do was sleep.
The moment he had a chance to breathe, it was all he wanted to keep doing.
He sits on the counter, legs over the edge, looking to Tenna expectantly and squeezing his hand.
“ALRIGHT. I’M [[parallel parked]].”
“Looks like you’re well within the line~” Tenna teases, looking…so so pleased. So happy, to be doing something as simple as applying toothpaste to a brush head. The scent of factory-false cinnamon stings the air.
“…YOU EVER THINK YOU’D BE DOIN’ THIS?”
“No!” Tenna answers with a simple shrug, still smiling. His hand comes to the back of Spamton’s head, a warm cradle. In his other hand, the loaded brush. “But I’m ready if you are, partner!”
“[[Ready or not]]!”
Spamton goes a little more crosseyed as he focuses on the toothbrush coming closer, closer, until contact is made. The cinnamon is overbearing. Just the way he always liked it.
His eyes drift up back to Tenna, who suddenly looks so focused he almost laughs. The brush makes slow, slow circles across his top ‘teeth.’
“You okay…?”
The sensation is extremely unfamiliar to him in this body, but not unpleasant. Actually, it’s rather nice.
Spamton gives a thumbs up.
“Oh, right, cant talk. Duh. Sorry~””
Spamton gives a wave of his hand, ‘You’re good.’
“…”
Tenna is still very careful, guiding Spamton’s head into an upward tilt for better direction.
“…no, I didn’t think I’d be doing this.”
Shit, he’s going to talk for the both of them.
“But I also didn’t think I’d ever see you again, so…that’s two surprises! And the head thing is three,” he laughs. “If ya got any more, I’m ready!”
Hm. Too bad he can’t make his heart pop of his body anymore. That would’ve been fun. He tilts his head as Tenna adjusts to the opposite side, still just the front top row.
“If it’s you…if I’m really getting another chance to be with you…”
Spamton makes the mistake of flicking his gaze up to see Tenna—his screen still gets all fuzzy around the edges when he’s being sappy. He can already see the pink coming in.
“…I want to do everything I can for you. Anything you need me to. Or want me to. I’m going to be that person for you, Spamton…like I—should’ve been…”
He needs to stop looking at him right now.
Spamton fixes his gaze ahead, stiffly nodding and giving another thumbs up. Even if he could actually say the right words, he doesn’t think he really could right now.
“Sorry, sorry, I’m just yapping aren’t I? Gosh. I’ll stop~”
…no he won’t.
Spamton knows goddamn well he won’t. He’s incapable.
But he makes it a record nine seconds! Some serious growth these past 25 years!
“I did imagine other things. Like…I don’t think they make it anymore, but smelling your cologne. Or fixing your bowtie. Giving you the rest of my fries at the Grill. Watching you draw concepts for the set~”
He’s unable to keep himself from reminiscing. Tenna makes it all sound so rosy and romantic, of course. He didn’t know. Spamton understands that, now. And how could he have known?
“…to think you were—“
“…”
“…anyway. I’m just glad you’re back, Spamton.”
Good. Spamton relaxes, eyes closing.
“Hey, don’t fall asleep on me~” Tenna says, and he can hear the smile in his tone, the annoying kind he gets when he finds something cute.
Spamton half-heartedly slaps the countertop twice, he’s awake, he’s awake. Geez.
“Say aah~”
His jaw clatters as he opens his mouth. Spamton’s thinking about everything so far. All of it. His life. His choices. His mistakes. Everything that’s led him where is. To Tenna, away from Tenna, back to Tenna. If he ever—
He shudders, makes a startled sound as the toothbrush slips in, his back teeth scraped gently before Tenna hurriedly pulls it out, worry on his screen.
“Shit, did I hurt you?? Are you okay??”
“I-I’M GOOD,” Spamton nods, and he is. The sensation from before had felt more oddly intense within his mouth. It felt…good.
“Did I go too far in?” Tenna presses him softly, hand caressing his cheek. “I-I didn’t choke you, did I? I knew this thing was too big…”
…
Spamton stifles a laugh and smirks.
“What?? What’s fun—…?”
“…”
Tenna’s screen goes bright pink, bright red, and he laughs. Spamton laughs. They’re laughing at the dumbest thing imaginable, and nothing else matters.
“You’re so bad, I was worried!” Tenna giggles helplessly, wiping happy tears from his screen.
“I’M JUST SAYING~ YOU [[No!!!] FIRST HAND I’VE HAD [[bigger and better]]!”
“Stop that!” Tenna scolds, but he’s still grinning. Still flushed. Smile shaking. Then, probably without even thinking about, the kindest words Spamton’s heard in decades come next.
“God, I missed you. You haven’t changed at all.”
…
Spamton grins so brightly he could beat the sun.
“YOU GONNA BE A [[sicko]] OR GET BACK TO [[scrub a dub]]?”
“Who’re you calling sicko, pervert~?” Tenna picks himself back up. “Aah.”
“[[A is for Automobile]].”
“Good~”
Good indeed.
Spamton’s fingers dig just slightly into the counter as Tenna brushes his back teeth. He’s thorough, but gentle. The backsides. The tops. It’s not an electric toothbrush, but small jolts travel through his body…it’s different, when someone else is touching. It’s different, when Tenna’s holding him steady, smiling, so close he can feel the warmth of his body radiating through the air. There’s nothing else he can think about anymore, except how nice he feels, this new buzzing feeling overwhelming his mind and body.
Tenna gently angles his head to get the very back corners, and Spamton’s eye twitches before slipping closed. So good. So nice, not thinking. He feels so relaxed. So blank. So happy to be here and touched and wanted, so happy it’s Tenna. Spamton can’t think of anyone else, anything else, even if he tried. Even if he wanted to. He doesn’t.
There’s nothing else in the world he needs to worry about. He can just enjoy and enjoy and enjoy—
The moan is soft, but it stops everything in an instant. His pleasure slipped out, and it seems to have travelled along the brush, up Tenna’s arm, and straight to his antennae as they stand fully erect.
“…y-you good?”
The thoughts are back.
The second-guessing and the questions.
Spamton looks away, feels like he’s on fire.
“…IT’S BEEN AWHILE…”
In the corner of his eye, he sees Tenna nod. He hears him clear his throat.
“Yeah! I mean…same!”
“…”
Spamton opens his mouth to apologize, but it stays open as Tenna’s hand carefully tilts his chin back to face him.
“…it’s okay, Spamton.”
“…”
Spamton trembles.
“…i-is it okay…?”
“[[Agree to all]].”
The toothbrush goes back in a little more clumsily than before, but Tenna corrects himself, the hand holding Spamton more intentional now than stabilizing.
Spamton grips Tenna’s wrist, dazed for a moment as the buzzy feeling takes him again, washing it all away with a blissful moan. Like nothing this body has ever felt. Nothing Spamton ever thought it capable of feeling. He’s loose. Free. Tenna works back and forth into his mouth, the hypnotic swssh swssh swssh, the feeling of warmth, the way he hears Tenna’s breath has gone slow, intentional. Affected. Familiar to Spamton in a way that makes his legs shake, makes them spread open on the countertop. There’s nothing between them, not anymore. He knows that. So why is there an ache?
“…you’re…haha…you’re killing me. Listen to you.”
There’s no way Tenna isn’t hard. All Spamton had to do to back in his prime was wink and Tenna’d be at attention. Add 20 years and some emotional stability, he’s probably fighting for his fucking life not to blow.
“…I want you so bad, Spam.”
Whispered. Breathless. Anxious.
His eyes meet Tenna’s screen, knowing he’s watching. Biting the side of his lip. A fang out. Crackles of RGB splotched all over.
“Just need you to know. I want you. I do. I’ll wait. I’ll wait as long as you need.“
There was a 101% guarantee if Spamton still had his ‘good and services,’ he’d already pounced to grind himself out on Tenna’s glass.
A bridge they can cross later.
Spamton gives the faintest indication of a nod.
Tenna seems to take that as a sign to keep going.
“I can still kiss you though, right?”
Another nod, though this one must not registered as obvious.
“Yeah??”
Spamton whines, squeezes his wrist. He’s dizzy. He can still get dizzy? Wow.
“Does this really feel that good for you?”
Yes.
The backs of Spamton’s legs press hard over the edge of the countertop, wanting to arch, but Tenna’s hand keeps him secure.
“Watch the sink, careful. I got you…I got you, Spamton.”
It feels like he’ll come.
But it’s all gone.
How could he come?
There’s nothing that can come out, nothing to come out of.
Despite that, he’s riding the edge of an invisible wall, desperate to push himself off to the other side.
He can’t think about what could happen, worry what his body might be doing. It’s the best he’s felt in years. Pure mind over matter, tipping, tipping, tipping him—
Not yet. His vision goes static for a moment. Close. He feels close. Is he close? Is this forever?
Spamton shakes, clutching Tenna’s sleeve with a whine.
“I got you,” Tenna breathes quickly. “It’s okay, I got you. I won’t stop. Just enjoy it.”
His eyes roll, a hard wave of—
…Oh God.
Spamton writhes. It’s as if the wall grew higher at the last second, no, no, no—
No. It’s possible. Yes he can. Yes he will. God fucking damn it, he will.
He twitches, overstimulated, as he uses the brief moment of crazed clarity to think, to observe, to—
…
His eyes are fixed ahead. Straight ahead.
That’s it.
That’s it.
Spamton slaps the counter top, enough that Tenna somewhat snaps out of his aroused stupor.
“Y-Yeah??”
Spamton kicks his leg, points his foot.
“…okay?”
He points his foot straight ahead.
“…oh. You…really??” he grins. Dopey
Spamton’s impatient moan is muffled as he beats the counter once with his fist and gives the world’s most aggressive thumbs up, YES.
“Okay okay, just, f-fair warning, I’m—”
Hard as a rock.
Spamton knows full well. When he presses his foot to Tenna’s crotch, it's hard, and the sound of him gasping with sudden release giving him the shove he needs.
He’s over the wall.
...
It’s 1’s and 0’s.
It’s a blue screen, with white text and a smiley face.
It’s a toothbrush, stuttering in his mouth.
It’s stacks of cards, rippling across a screen in bouncing waves.
It’s a live wire, dancing with pops and sparks.
It’s Tenna, whimpering as he strains a damp spot against Spamton’s sole.
…it’s a miracle.
The miracle trembles through him, from his very core to tips of his wooden fingers. The hand that’s not clutching Tenna for sweet life drifted between his legs at some point, as if expecting through sheer force of will that something has appeared—
…
…still nothing.
He rubs his nothing anyway, humming in relief. To even feel like doing this is worth something is its own euphoria.
This body can give.
And speaking of giving.
Spamton presses the words out of Tenna, knowing he doesn’t have his nice shiny shoes to do the job anymore, but his partner doesn’t seem to notice or care. It’s working for him again all the same, a long whiiiiine and familiar babbling Spamton’s reward.
“Oh Spamton I love you I love you thank you thank you—“
He’s stood this whole time, knees knocking together now.
Spamton drinks the scene, revels for another moment longer, and he stops. He probably could’ve kept going, but it’s enough for now. More than enough. Tenna seems somewhat grateful, a shuddered breath as the pressure lets off his crotch.
As Spamton allows himself to relax, limbs slack, the toothbrush finally slips out, warm, bristles abused. It clatters aside, Tenna using his now-free hand to brace himself, his monitor drooping low as he catches his breath.
“Oh my God,” he gasp, barely above a whisper. “Oh my—holy…”
He seems to realize something and quickly turns on the water, fills a small (to him) paper cup that he hands to Spamton.
“...?"
“Rinse."
Spamton takes the cup in both hands, swishing hurriedly before spitting it, watching it go down the drain.
Turning back to Tenna, he’s kissed. Without a moment to spare. Spamton closes his eyes, his touch reaching for the edges of his monitor.
God, yes.
He’s clunkier. There’s more clicks and clacks and clinks than there ever were, but Tenna kisses him urgently. Pecks to his mouth, between his eyes, the painted red of his cheeks. Spamton guides him back to his mouth, not the easiest place, but the most preferred. Cautious tongue. Accepted tongue. Excited tongue.
“…H-[[Hold it]]!!” Spamton starts. It feels like he hasn’t spoken in years, his voice crackling around the edges like a blown-out speaker.
Whether it’s the command or the sound of it, Tenna stops, they both do.
The inside of his mouth is warm, Tenna overwhelming it with himself, to the point Spamton knows a similar feeling on his jaw has to be his spit running out and down his chin. Tenna seems to notice it the moment Spamton realizes and gently swipes it away with this thumb.
He’s out of sorts, so nice, so warm, body still tingling all over, but suddenly so…
“…I THINK I NEED TO LIE [[no money down]].”
“…yeah,” Tenna pants, nodding. The kiss he places to the top of Spamton’s head is gentler, and he takes him into his arms again. “Of course. Let’s get you comfy.”
His chest is warm, the sheets are cold as Tenna sits him down, as he ever so gently peels off Spamton’s blazer, folding it off to the side.
“Can you move your head for me?”
His head pops off, listless and free, and Tenna makes quick work of fitting his body with the pajamas. They’re softer wearing them than just touching. His head slowly spins back down, locking into place. The next moment, he’s being guided under the blankets, tucked carefully snug, back into his spot from earlier.
“I-I need to clean and change. Wait for me, okay?”
“[[k]].”
“Or don’t!! If you fall asleep I’ll still be here when you wake—!!“
“JUST [[go go go]] AND GET [[$20 Cash Back]] IN HERE…” Spamton says, voice muffling into the pillow.
He watches him hurry, awkwardly making his way back to the bathroom, trying not to disrupt the obvious issue between his legs.
…Spamton might need to start wearing shoes again, if that still works for Tenna after all this time…
He’s still got it~
He closes his eyes at the sound of running water and gentle splashing. He can rest for now, knows that he’ll wake up when Tenna comes back, knows that Tenna can’t sneak anywhere for the life.
He breathes, totally at ease. He could melt into this bed. So fully in the present moment. No past to regret. No worries of the future. Just…bed. Soft. Safe. And then, with the sound of familiar large footsteps and then massive weight shift of the bed, Tenna’s arms, kisses peppered into his hair between happy giggling.
If this body’s angles prod into him, he doesn’t seem to mind, snuggling himself closer to Spamton’s, flush with his chest.
“I’m back~”
“COULDN’T TELL,” Spamton replies, his hand coming to the side of Tenna’s monitor.
“Did you…know that would happen?”
He shakes his head.
“[[News at 8]] TO ME.”
Tenna hums, nodding, thinking.
…
He nestles closer, his screen dimming, smile wobbling into a grin.
“…you were so sexy~”
“YEAH?”
“Yeah~” Tenna kisses his forehead, giggling almost drunkenly. “Really sexy.”
“KEEP IT IN YOUR [[Shorts]].”
“I am!” he pouts, squeezing Spamton with loving annoyance. “I’m just telling you. No more tonight, promise.”
He rubs Spamton’s lower back.
It’s clear just how much they both remember.
Spamton smiles.
“I’M STILL GOOD FOR [[a big smackeroo]].”
“Okay!”
He bursts into a laugh at Tenna’s enthusiasm, his eagerness to kiss again, until his laughter is quieted by glass and fuzzy static, his lips.
“The sexiest~ So sexy~”
“AM I [[Too HOT for TV]]?”
“Heeheeee~”
“YOU STILL [[Like button]] MY [[fancy footwork]]?”
“Yeeeaaah~”
“GOOD. ‘CAUSE WE’RE [[gonna need a bigger boat]]—“ Spamton shakes his head “GONNA NEED TO…[[Free Play]] AROUND. YOU SAW WHAT I’M WORKIN’ WITH...”
“Oh, I’m sure we’ll figure something out,” Tenna sighs dramatically. “But if you have to keep stepping on me, I guess it’s the only way…”
“YOU [[$&*%ing]] FREAK.”
“Uh-huuuh~”
Tenna teehees, kicks his feet, the sheets rustling. But when he stops, cradles Spamton’s face, surprising him. Looks into his eyes with a warm glow, with intention. Like no one else has ever looked at Spamton before. Only Tenna.
“We’ll figure everything out.”
Spamton, overwhelmed, can only think of one thing to say.
“[[I Love Lucy S3 DVD Boxset, $29.99]].”
“…”
“…”
“…h-huh?”
“…I LOVE YOU, [[10/10]].”
…I love you, Spamton,” Tenna sniffles.
“LET’S WORK ON YOU SAYING IT WITHOUT [[cryin’ out loud]].”
“I can’t help it!!” he laughs. “God. A guy can’t shed a few tears after reuniting with his long-lost husband?? Is that a crime!? Then lock me up!!”
“YEAH YOU’D LIKE THAT, HUH?”
Spamton is shaken again, Tenna jostling him around in the sheets as revenge for too much teasing, making him cackle.
“Stop being gross~!”
“YOU LOVE IT!”
“Noooo~!”
“SAY YOU LOVE IT AND [[Lemme show you something]] FUN.”
Tenna stops instantly, “I love it,” coming out so quickly Spamton finds it hard to believe he even processed it. Just following a command.
“…[[Now that’s good TV!]].”
His old praise doesn’t out right, but Tenna still tenses, an expectant smile on his face like he’s going to get a treat. Practically shaking.
“Yeah??”
Cute.
He’s so fucking cute, it’s infuriating.
Spamton’s head pops off, and Tenna gasps with glee as he zips to the top of Tenna’s monitor, gives it a loud smooch, and goes back to his body.
As he’s pulled into another giggly embrace, Spamton realizes there’s no way in hell he’ll be able to get out of this bed tonight, let alone Tenna’s arms.
And that’s fine.
He’s home, after all.
Why would he ever leave again?