Chapter Text
The first thing Tenna does when he walks into the hotel room is kick off his shoes, leaving them in the small entry hallway. Spamton fumbles with the door behind him, failing to lock it multiple times before it finally clicks. Tenna’s already shimmied out of his pants and shucked his suit jacket off, tossed carelessly onto the bed closest to him when Spamton finally turns away from the door. He scurries past Tenna to rummage through the mini fridge, Tenna watching him unamused as he loosens his tie. He undoes a few buttons on his shirt as he looks idly around the room, but leaves it on.
It’s a nice hotel room, about as nice as a double bed can be. It’ll always feel somewhat out of place and cheap, but it’s nice. Spamton had booked it and insisted on a more expensive place, as they’re to be staying here longer than normal for more important events. Wall sconces with deep, warm yellow bulbs light the room. It’s a bit more classy and atmospheric than Tenna’s used to. The twin beds are decorated the same, an absurd amount of decorative pillows arranged artfully against each headboard, blankets tucked tight under the mattresses. There’s good space for their luggage and plenty of nifty little commodities, like the city facing balcony and fridge in the corner Spam is currently rifling through. The little mailman darts his head out, triumphantly holding an expensive bottle of something high. He pops the thing open and takes a swig, clearly unsatisfied with the little drink he had in their meeting. Tenna wouldn’t be surprised if he lights another cigar while he’s at it, too. Spamton slams the fridge shut, wiping his mouth and looking like a proper drunk as he stumbles toward Tenna gripping his bottle. He’s barely had a few sips. Must be excited.
“You want a taste, [Big Shot]?” Spamton grins, shaking the bottle at his partner. Tenna raises a brow and takes the offered bottle wordlessly. He lifts it to his lips and takes a small sip, feeling the pleasant burn as he swallows it down. Spamton watches him like a hawk, eyes raking over Tenna’s body, inspecting every exposed inch. Tenna feels a little hot at the scrutiny, very aware of his half-dressed state while Spamton hasn’t even loosened his tie.
He offers the bottle back to Spamton who snatches it from his hand, greedily taking another sloppy swig that leaves drink dribbling from the corner of his mouth. He approaches the CRT, reaching out a hand to run along Tenna’s thigh. He squeezes playfully as he inches his way up to Tenna’s ass, grabbing a handful as Tenna blushes.
“Let’s get this [Showtime] started, eh?” he snickers, giving Tenna’s ass a playful slap before scurrying off to the bed. Spamton climbs up and makes himself comfortable, legs dangling off and spread in invitation as he teasingly undoes his tie. He pats his thigh.
“[Heel, Boy!]” he laughs. Tenna obeys immediately, moving over to Spamton, kneeling for him much the same way he had earlier for Mr. Blacefook. He looks up at his partner, screen flushed pink and mouth drawn into a tight line as he anxiously awaits instruction. Spamton grins, taking a sip from his bottle before leaning down to touch Tenna’s face. His hands roam all over his screen, trailing away up his head to play with the base of his antennae. Tenna shivers and leans into the touch. Spamton leans down fully to kiss Tenna, a few sweet pecks before his laps at Tenna’s lips. Tenna opens his mouth for Spamton with a sigh, his body thrumming with excitement as Spamton’s tongue moves against his. When Spamton pulls back he licks his lips and rubs a thumb against Tenna’s panting mouth.
“Doesn’t taste like me,” Spamton says matter of factly. He undoes his belt and unzips his pants, fishing his cock out of his underwear. He pumps it lazily and taps the head against Tenna’s cheek. Tenna bites his lip and flushes, embarrassment flooding him and causing a slight tremble in his limbs. His hands are fisted where they rest on his knees, legs folded underneath him in a way he’s sure looks girlish, but Spamton gets off on stupid shit like that.
Spamton grins, “Let’s see if we can change that, huh [dollface]?”
Spamton hooks one of his thumbs into Tenna’s mouth and pulls it open, pushing the head of his cock past plush lips. Tenna knows where to go from here, the amount of times he’s sucked Spamton off almost certainly surpassing the times Spamton’s actually fucked him. Spamton lets Tenna work, leaning back on one hand as he knocks back more of his drink. Tenna licks up and down Spamton’s dick, the familiar taste of precum on his tongue. He wastes no time, eagerly bobbing his head up and down. Spamton groans his approval, a hand coming up to stroke along one of his antennae. Tenna moans around his dick.
“Fuck, look at you, [Pretty Little Thing], you look right at home down there,” Spamton sighs, “Did you miss sucking my dick? Wish it was me you blew back in that [Office Building Rental]?”
Tenna hums and pops off his dick, stroking it while he pants and looks up at Spamton weakly. Drool leaks from the corner of Spamton’s mouth, a crazed and lustful look in his eye as he gets a solid grip on the base of Tenna’s twitching antennae.
“Stupid whore,” Spamton mutters. He uses his hold on Tenna to shove his cock back into the CRT’s mouth. Tenna whines and gets back to work, licking and sucking on Spamton’s dick obediently. Spamton holds Tenna’s head tightly and fucks into his mouth with labored breaths.
“Christ, just like that, [Babycakes], take it, take my dick,” Spamton mumbles as he thrusts quickly. Tenna can feel his dick twitching and burning in his mouth. He knows Spamton’s close and he lets his face get used like a toy, the slick sounds from Spamton’s dick in his mouth making him wet and hot.
Spamton’s rapid and erratic thrusts come to a halt as he cums in Tenna’s mouth with a groan, his grip on Tenna’s antennae unrelenting. He jerks at them a few times, yanking Tenna’s head forward to rut against his face. Tenna swallows Spamton’s cum quickly, whimpering desperately when Spamton tugs on him. Spit dribbles down his face as he pulls back, panting heavily. Spamton yanks him up by his antennae, slotting himself between Spamton’s legs as their mouths crash together. Spamton shoves his tongue into Tenna’s mouth and Tenna lets him, a whine drawn out from his throat. Spamton’s kisses are mean, teeth biting lips and tongue unrelenting, devouring every little sound Tenna makes. When they finally pull apart Tenna feels light headed, dazedly watching a wicked grin spread across Spamton’s face.
“Tastes much better,” Spamton growls. He pets the side of Tenna’s head affectionately. “Just like me.”
Tenna’s face and body feel like they’re on fire. His limbs jitter with unreleased tension as he climbs up from between Spamton’s legs onto the bed. Spamton shifts to the foot of the bed, allowing Tenna room to get situated while he finally sheds his jacket. He must be warm because he undoes a few buttons of his dress shirt, too. Tenna rests his upper body against the mound of pillows, their careful arrangement ruined as he wiggles into a comfortable position. He spreads his legs for Spamton, showing off the wet spot in his boxers. Spamton eyes him greedily, slicking back his hair before crawling between Tenna’s open legs. He trails his hands up Tenna’s calves before sliding them under fat thighs, gripping and pinching at them to draw more noise from Tenna. Tenna whines in response, his hips twitching in an attempt to grind against Spamton’s half hard cock. Spamton lets out a puff of nasally laughter at the sight. He lets his hands trail to the wet fabric of Tenna’s underwear, rubbing slightly where he knows Tenna’s clit is. Tenna bucks again and moans openly, throwing his forearm across his eyes as his head tilts back. He huffs and puffs as Spamton teases him through his underwear, mean little laughs taunting him. He feels himself getting frustrated as small hands wander over his stomach and up his chest. Tenna moves his arm from his face and shoots Spam a glare while his shirt is unbuttoned.
“What are you doing?”
“Well, I just figured we can't get to the [Main Event!] too quickly, can we [sweetheart]? Let's have a little more [FUN] first,” Spamton grins, fingers playing along the seam running down the middle of Tenna’s chest. Tenna sighs impatiently and lets Spamton pry the silicone open. The hatch opens revealing a mess of wires thrumming in his chest. Spamton practically drools at the sight, gently running his fingers along the edge of the compartment before shuffling up Tenna’s body to straddle his stomach. Once comfortable, Spamton shoves his hands into the tangle in Tenna’s chest. Tenna’s head jerks at Spamton’s rough touch, a high pitched whine escaping his throat. Spamton lets out a huff and wanders deeper, fingers rubbing and pulling wires. They start to get tangled as Spamton plays with them mindlessly.
Tenna moans and closes his legs, rubbing his thighs together helplessly. He’s completely at Spamton’s mercy as the smaller man rummages around his insides. He feels little trembles and shocks ripple through his body with each little stroke and tease. Spamton’s hard cock leaks against Tenna’s chest, the hand not currently buried in Tenna’s chest moving down to pump himself slowly. He grabs a fistful of wires and yanks hard, Tenna screaming out in pleasure as his back arches. His whole body vibrates at the strain, Spamton pulling them taut before letting go. They fall back loose and out of place, the whole opening now a jumbled bundle of messy wires that Spamton eyes lustfully. Tenna knows what he’s going to do before he does it. He tries to shift up to knock Spamton off, letting out a whine of protest as anxiety shoots through him but Spamton’s quicker. Spamton shoves his dick into the tangle, his hand coming down to squeeze the wires around himself as he lets out a long, low moan. Tenna cries out and throws his head back. The stimulation is overwhelming and he can’t do anything but twitch helplessly as Spamton begins to fuck into his chest.
Spamton lets out little groans with each thrust, fingers tangled in wires that he wraps around his cock. His unoccupied hand braces against the top edge of the opening as he jerks himself off with Tenna’s insides. Tenna’s screen goes static, hands clawing at one of the pillows behind his head. He arches his back helplessly into Spamton’s thrusts, getting rougher and faster as he brings himself closer.
“Spam- Fuck, Spammy, sss-st stooppp,” Tenna brokenly moans. Spamton tsks and grabs another fistful of wires to shut Tenna up. His body is so tense and hot that he can barely think straight as another moan is ripped from him. He shakes his head helplessly, Spamton’s labored breaths stinging his face with the smell of alcohol. It feels so mind-numbingly good and with each thrust and tug of his wires he feels tension building in his gut. Spamton gives him sloppy, open mouthed kisses all over his face, biting at his lips and neck, hot breath dancing over his wires.
“God, you feel so good Tenna,” Spamton mumbles feverishly. He’s clearly losing himself. They’re both close as Spamton begins humping mindlessly against Tenna. “Fuck, a perfect little doll for me, yeah? My own little whore. I’ll fuck you however I want, right baby? You’ll let me?” Spamtons babbling at this point and all Tenna can do is mumble and moan his garbled approval. He shoves a hand into his underwear, fingers finding his clit easily and rubbing roughly. Tenna’s so close all it takes is a few good circles of his clit and he’s arching his back and cumming, electric shocks dancing along his limbs and wires, tingling and stimulating Spamton’s dick. Spamton throws his head back and cums again, jaw clenched shut as he paints Tenna’s insides with his seed. Tenna writhes and groans as the warmth floods his chest. They’re both gasping and basking in the feeling for a moment before Tenna’s half lidded eyes shoot open and he snaps from his daze.
Tenna gasps and sits up immediately, Spamton crying out in surprise as he unceremoniously tumbles off the CRT onto his back, splayed out looking like an idiot. Tenna glares at him and hunches over, watching cum drip and wires hang loosely from his still open chest cavity.
“I thought I told you not to cum in there,” Tenna hisses. Spamton blinks up at him owlishly, still coming down from his high, before he grins lazily. He folds his arms behind his head and shrugs.
“Guess I got carried away,” He replies easily, putting on an air of nonchalance. Tenna grits his teeth. He gently moves his wires, hissing at each overstimulating brush of his fingers.
“You did that on purpose,” Tenna says flatly. “I told you, it’s dangerous. You could seriously hurt one of us doing that.”
“Oh, whatever, Big whoop! You’ll be fine,” Spamton waves at him dismissively, “Allergic to having a [GREAT time]? Why don’t you go clean up in the bathroom while I get ready for [Round 3! Fight!]” He ends with a wink, crawling up and shoving past Tenna to root around the bedside table. Tenna grimaces as he stands, the sudden change in pressure on the bed causing Spamton to wobble.
“Hey! Watch it, [Trash Heap]!” he snaps.
Tenna ignores him and storms off to the bathroom, socked feet meeting cold tile. He locks the bathroom door behind him and sighs, leaning against it briefly before making his way to the sink. The mirror is large and low, giving Tenna a good view of his body and the open hatch. He’s visibly flushed and his wires are horribly tangled, a large clump dripping with fluid in the middle where Spamton had his way. He makes a low displeased sound in his throat as he reaches for the tissues on the counter. He gingerly wipes his wires dry, taking his time and being careful with his light touches. He’s still sensitive, his hands shaking and lip quivering as he works.
Frustration builds, mind racing back to all the times he’s told Spamton no, only to be brushed off and ignored. Spamton always gets his way. He thinks back to no more than two hours ago when Spamton had him on his knees for a man he’d just met. His face flushes with shame as he looks at himself, hands roaming listlessly over his body. Is this really what he’d become? A sex toy for some narcissistic chump calling himself a big shot? But he doesn’t want to think about that right now, fingers teasing his wires as he whines. He can’t meet his gaze in the mirror, looking away, guilty as he plays with himself. There’s still some of Spamton’s cum on his deeper wires, and he wipes it away with his finger, bringing it to his mouth to lick clean. He finishes cleaning up, wiping himself down thoroughly before delicately rearranging his wires into their proper positions. He shuts the hatch and braces his hands on the countertop. He hangs his head and takes a few deep breaths to collect himself before leaving the bathroom.
Spamton’s lounging on the bed when he comes back in, puffing on a half burnt cigar. He’s shed everything but his pants, still unbuttoned showing off the slight bulge in his underwear. The bottle he’d been sipping on is mostly empty, discarded on the bedside table. Tenna walks over and leans on his hands over the foot of the bed. He flashes the little mailman an uneasy smile.
“Thought you’d never come out,” Spamton teases. He takes a deep inhale of his cigar and blows it at Tenna’s face. Tenna immediately leans away with a frown.
“Would you stop doing that? I don’t like it,” Tenna says bitterly.
“You’re no [FUN].”
“And you never listen to me.”
Spamton groans and rolls his eyes. “Fine then, [HotShot], how do you want to cum next?”
Tenna blushes at how openly he talks about it. He’s still not used to being so sexual. He barely got any action before Spamton came around. He worries his lip as he looks to the side in thought, running through different ways Spamton could have him. He settles on one quickly, looking back at his partner with a nervous flush and a furrow in his brow.
“I want to ride you,” Tenna says, a slight twitch in his antennae as he admits it.
Spamton beams, spreading his legs and patting his lap.
“Be my [Honored customer]!”
Tenna climbs over the foot of the bed towards his partner. He straddles Spamton slowly. From how he towers over him it looks quite comical, but Spamton likes it this way. His little hands play over Tenna’s thighs, roaming up to grab at his hips and love handles as best he can. Something about just how big Tenna is really gets Spamton going. Tenna can already feel Spamton’s boner poking him.
“You’re insatiable,” Tenna mutters, somewhat bitter but still affectionate.
“Don’t I know it, [Sugartits],” Spamton purrs back.
Tenna grinds down, his slick underwear rubbing against Spamton’s. Spamton lets out a satisfied groan and thrusts up in response. Tenna continues to grind slowly against Spamton, listening to the little muttered praises that float from the mailman between gritted teeth. His cigar burns and the smoke pillows between the two. As Spamton gets impatient his fingers grip at the waistband of Tenna’s underwear, pulling it back to snap it against Tenna’s skin.
“Take these off for me, will you, [dollface]?” His voice is breathy and his gaze is intense. Tenna obeys, backing off him to quickly slide his underwear off, tossing it onto the floor and exposing his sex. As he climbs back onto Spamton the smaller man takes a drag of his cigar and turns his head to blow the smoke away. Tenna’s face flushes and he tilts his head bashfully. Waving his smoke lazily in one hand while he brushes Tenna’s inner thigh with the other, Spamton smirks up at him. Tenna reaches down to free Spamton from his boxers once more, the little cock springing free, flushed red and leaking. Tenna eagerly grinds his wet pussy against it, gasping as it brushes his clit. They both groan as they grind against one another, the slick sounds filling Tenna’s head with static. Spamton grabs his dick and rubs the tip against Tenna’s entrance. It’ll slide in with no issue, but Spamton likes to tease. Tenna’s breathy whines are muffled as he covers his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Come on, don’t you want it [Big Shot]?” Spamton snarks, sliding the tip in before taking it out and slicking it against Tenna’s clit. Tenna whimpers and nods his head, refusing to meet Spamton gaze. The little man snickers, “Beg for it, big guy. Let me hear that [Sweet] voice.”
Tenna bites his lip and wiggles his hips before he whimpers and gives in.
“Oh, gosh, S-Spammy please, just put it in already. Please, please!” Tenna moans helplessly. His grinding against Spamton is desperate. Spamton takes a considering drag of his cigar before licking his lips and smiling.
“Well, since you asked so nicely,” He purrs. He lines up and shoves his dick as far as it’ll go inside Tenna, the CRT hunching over Spam with a shuddering moan. He’s overly sensitive from his earlier orgasm but he moves his hips immediately, grinding on Spamton’s cock inside him before lifting off and sliding back down. Spamton muffles his own groan when Tenna’s insides squeeze him just right, his hips twitching to meet Tenna’s rise and fall. Tenna rides him slowly at first. He relishes in the feeling of Spamton’s little dick twitching inside him. He’s breathing heavily, cigar smoke burning his lungs as he hunches over chasing Spamton’s lips. Spamton lets himself be kissed, opening his mouth and lazily sliding his tongue against Tenna’s. Spamton tastes heavily of alcohol and smoke, and sort of like he hasn’t brushed his teeth in days. Tenna picks up the pace as they makeout, drool running down his chin as he loses composure. Steam puffs from his head and his antennae twitch eagerly. Spamton swallows every little noise Tenna makes greedily.
When Tenna pulls back he’s gasping. He leans back on his hands and moves his hips faster, furiously chasing his high. Spamton watches Tenna bounce, drinking in the sight of his cock disappearing inside Tenna’s pussy.
“You’re such a greedy slut,” Spamton laughs around his cigar. “Look at you. I bet you would’ve let that dusty old man fuck you in his office if I told you to, bet you would’ve loved getting used like that. Did you like being watched? Sucking off a stranger?” Tenna whines and shakes his head weakly but can’t deny the way Spamton’s words turn him on. He bounces faster.
“Oh you deny it now, but I know the truth. You’re such a whore I bet you’d let anybody fuck you. Bet I could make good money whoring you out, yeah? You’d love it, too. My pretty doll.” Spamton massages his thigh as he speaks, skin burning hot, his touch soothing but his words cruel. Tenna whimpers at his degrading tone and lets his hand trail down to rub his clit. He keeps shaking his head in protest but doesn’t stop his movements.
Spamton laughs at him, “You wanna cum so bad, huh? Go ahead and cum for me, you dirty slut.” Spamton brings the dying butt of his cigar from his mouth and presses it into Tenna’s thigh. Tenna cries out in pain, the sensation sending him over the edge as he throws his head back and cums on Spamton’s dick. Spamton keeps grinding the burning stub into Tenna’s leg and moans, Tenna’s pussy twitching and squeezing his cock through his orgasm. Spamton fucks up into Tenna chasing his own finish. He cums inside Tenna with a strangled moan, going limp on the bed as he heaves, trying to catch his breath. After a moment he lets out a tired laugh and whistles.
He moves his hand to inspect the burn on Tenna’s thigh, running a thumb over it gently. Tenna hisses in pain. His head lolls forward as he takes a look at the damage himself.
“What’d you do that for?” Tenna asks tiredly. Spamton gazes at Tenna’s flushed face almost lovingly and his stomach clenches with emotion.
“You liked it, didn’t you? It’ll heal just fine,” Spamton replies smoothly, patting Tenna’s uninjured thigh. “Hop up now, [sweetcheeks].”
Tenna hums before lifting his hips, a small whimper leaving him as Spamton’s dick slides out. Spamton’s cum drips out of him as he kneels above his partner, leaning over to look between his legs. Spamton grins at the sight.
“Wish you’d let me take a picture of you like this,” Spamton says huskily. Tenna frowns.
“I know you’d go showing people. I can’t let anyone see me like this! I’m a professional,” Tenna huffs, climbing off the bed to clean himself. He feels sticky and dirty.
“Aw, come on, [Sugar]! I wouldn’t tell a soul!” Spamton reasons, sitting up on the bed to watch Tenna. He smiles sweetly. “I’m the [Only One Left!] who can have you like this.” Tenna pauses on his way to the bathroom, hands clenched into fists. He glances back at Spamton, who’s still eyeing him like a piece of meat.
“You’re so drunk,” He mutters bitterly. Spamton barks a laugh and flops back onto the bed.
Tenna once again cleans himself up silently and alone in the bathroom. He wants a bath but it’ll have to wait. If he gets in there now he’s afraid he’ll fall asleep, he’s exhausted, physically and emotionally. He can maybe squeeze in a quick shower in the morning. He finishes up quickly, trailing out of the bathroom silently to find a clean pair of underwear in his luggage. Spamton’s passed out on the bed when he comes out. Tenna pulls on his new underwear and leaves on his day-old wrinkled dress shirt. He stands between the two beds, hovering close to Spamton to watch him. He can smell the alcohol on his breath as he snores lightly. He briefly considers smothering him but opts instead to kiss him lightly before turning to the other bed. He’d rather not sleep on the dirty sheets they just fucked on. Spamton stirs and sits up suddenly, looking around drunkenly before he spots Tenna in the middle of wiggling under the clean blankets.
“Oh, are we sleeping over there?” Spamton asks groggily, hopping off the rumpled sheets and scampering over to Tenna. Tenna’s a bit startled but lets Spamton under the blanket, the smaller man burrowing against him like a rodent. “Turn off that light, will yah? I need my [Beauty Sleep],” he grumbles against Tenna’s chest. Tenna flushes and reaches for the light, turning it off and snuggling down into the blanket. Spamton’s wrapped his arms and legs around his middle, clinging to him like a baby animal. Tenna wraps his arms limply around Spamton, staring off into the dark of the room.
The thought of strangling Spamton crosses his mind again but he buries it.