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The first day on the set of TV Time was not quite what Spamton had expected. Of course, he hadn't really known what to expect, but it certainly was not this. He stepped into the warmly-lit studio, and his jaw dropped right then and there. His eyes widened, and he had to take a moment to see it all. Dozens of Pippins running around, Shadowguys painting various set props. However, every single other aspect was drowned out by one thing. The centerpiece, one could say.

At a towering sixteen feet, there he stood. The king of only, the one all over billboards from TV World to Cyber City, Mr. Tenna. He's talking to Mike, rubbing his head a little, looking a little distressed. "What do you MEAN there's an empty seat in the audience?" He frets, looking out from behind the curtain that leads to the TV Time stage. "It doesn't matter that no one will notice!" He cries, his voice the only one really audible over all the hustle and bustle. "What if they miss their favorite segment? How am I supposed to make everyone smile if someone doesn't catch this show?"

After a few more moments, he seems to get a little more calmed down, and nods, but he doesn't look completely at ease. Finally, he turns to the door, and his face lights up when he sees Spamton. "Oh! Our newest Big Star!" He says, rushing over to Spamton's side with a few long strides. Thanks to the immense size difference, Spamton has to really crane his neck to see the massive darkner. The very top of his head roughly aligns with Tenna's knees, and despite the fact that he's about to have the most publicity he has in a WHILE, he has never felt quite so insignificant. Tenna reaches down a hand the size of Spamton's whole damn arm to shake his hand, smiling brightly. "Hello!" He says, practically beaming with joy. If the older man had eyes, they would probably be shining. "Ah, hello. I assume you're the [[feature presentation!]]" He says, internally wincing at the verbal tic that he couldn't hold back, especially so early on meeting someone. However, Tenna either doesn't notice, or doesn't seem to care, already shaking his hand. "That's me!" He says with a big grin, not mentioning the completely out of place tone and wording in the middle of the shorter darkner's sentence.

"If you don't mind," Tenna continues, "I would like to invite you to my office, just to run over the finals of our contract, and get everything wrapped up before your first show!" He chimed, straightening out and beginning to walk towards a hallway at the end of the greenroom. Spamton has to up his pace to a quick jog to catch up with the CRT performer, and doesn't slow down much in his attempt to keep up. The significantly taller man's long strides eat up the pace in no time, while Spamton is nearly out of breath by the time they reach Tenna's office. The older darkner steps aside, opening the door, and smiles, before realizing that Spamton's chest is heaving a bit. "A-ah, sorry about that! If you need me to slow down at all, just let me know!" He says with a friendly smile, and closes the door behind him, not noticing how the other performer's jaw tightens at the words, taking them as patronizing instead of kind. "Well!" Tenna's voice cuts through the brief silence as he makes his way to his desk. "I suppose it's best to get through all this paperwork before we start the show, that way you're fully informed on what your role here will be, as well as any other questions that you may ha-ve....?" Tenna is a bit cut off, his voice trailing off as he notices Spamton's face. The other darkner's jaw is a bit agape, as he looks around the office. Not too different from Tenna, his office, as expected, is larger than life. One entire wall is made of glass, and though one of the blinds is drawn, Spamton can see the warm lights of TV world from outside. Even though there's no sun, the lights around the city are all pink and orange, as if to mimic the view of one. The floor is wood, with a red carpet down the middle, leading from the door to the massive desk in the middle of the room. Oh, the desk. It's huge. Intricately carved, made of mahogany with gold accents, and wolf's foot-shaped legs that stand out with gold claws plated on. On the side of the room slightly obscured from the window-wall, there's a red velvet couch, along with a mini fridge and multiple drawers.

"Uhm, are you alright?" Tenna asks softly, blinking down at Spamton. Snapped from his trance, the short darkner looks up, clearing his throat. "Nothin', [[cathode]]!" He falters, straightening out his posture, and striding towards the chair across from the desk, looking at it for a moment, before deciding it would probably be less embarrassing to stand than try and climb up the chair that is far too tall for him. Tenna, however, notices this, and pulls out... a step ladder. Swallowing his pride in exchange for what could be the best deal of his life, Spamton slowly steps up the ladder, and climbs up onto the desk, making sure not to make eye contact. He brushes off his shirt, and looks down at the papers. Tenna has to hold them in his forefinger and thumb to be able to hold them, since they're Spamton-sized to make signing easier. Handing the smaller darkner a pen, he smiles, and grabs his own copy, reading over a summary. "These papers are just meant to let you know what you'll be doing, your salary, expectations, and all that!" He chirps, twirling his pen in his fingers. Reading over his copy, Spamton's eyes catch on a specific line. 'Obligatory support given is expected from all workers on the TV Time set.' Arching an eyebrow, Spamton looks up at Tenna. "What does [sign terms and agreements now!] mean?" He asks, pointing to the small section on the paper. Tenna turns his head to look at it, before a pixelated blush appears on his screen. "Oh! uh, it's just a little part of the agreement that means you need to show support for TV Time!" He blurts, shrugging dramatically.

Spamton squints, and glances down at the paper once more. "Uh, how am I meant to 'show support' to TV Time any more than... [[Featuring your favorite star!!]] on it?" He asks, looking back up at Tenna. The older darkner clears his throat, and straightens in his seat, looking away. "Well, it's just minor things, like supporting fellow cast members, being kind to our workers, and... loving TV...?" Tenna tries, hoping Spamton won't inquire any more, he does NOT need a new hire learning about his attachment issues this early on. He internally curses himself for including that in the paperwork, his jaw tightening a bit. Thankfully, Spamton shrugs it off, and nods, grabbing the pen, reading over the final page, before signing the paper, and handing it over to Tenna. "Alright, at least that's [wrapped up] now." He sighs, and once Tenna has signed his half of the agreement, Spamton climbs down from the desk, and looks up at the massive darkner above him.

"So, what's the [[big plans!!]]?" He asks, crossing his arms. Tenna checks his watch, and smiles brightly. "Well, first off, let's get you on that stage!"

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The show went off "without a hitch", in Tenna's words, as he ushered Spamton off stage after the show ended. With an energetic smile on his face, he pats Spamton on the back, and looks down at him. "Way to go, big shot! They LOVE you!" He exclaims, throwing his arms up in the air. Spamton smiles sheepishly, though he tries to cover it up with a suave smirk. Tenna, one of the biggest stars, known across the dark world, thinks that HES a big shot? That's more than anyone's ever said about him... before he can speak again, Tenna is already rambling on and on about what he thinks the next show will bring, explaining with great detail about how he plans to bring Lanina and Elnino with him onto stage tomorrow, and do a "Double Date" segment. "The only problem is, there's no other performers!" He despaired, shaking his head slowly. "It's no problem though, I'll get Mike or a Pippins to figure it out for me!" He says, sitting down on the couch in the greenroom. "I'm sure you'll be able to make it [[free labor for the whole family!!]] Tenna." Spamton says, nodding, and beginning to gather his things. "I'm going to head home, but I'll see you at seven tomorrow, okay?" He says, waving at the taller darkner. Tenna nods, and waves goodbye, even walking him out to his car, before heading back inside.

When Spamton pulls into his apartment parking lot, he sighs, turning off his car, and making his way through the dark alleyway. It's a suspicious joint, and he doesn't exactly pride himself in living here, but it's home. He quickly ascends the stairs, and enters his apartment, flopping down on the couch. He inhales deeply, only to feel a slight pang in his chest. Groaning, he unbuttons his shirt, and peels himself off of the couch. Walking to his bedroom, he finishes taking off his button-up, and looks in the mirror. The white fabric of his binder stands out a bit against his skin, and a bit of fur sticks out of the seam. He runs his fingers along the bottom of it, before grabbing the back, and pulling it over his head, exhaling deeply at the feeling of the tight fabric finally leaving his body. He rubs his eyes a little bit, and tosses his binder onto the bed, before stretching out, groaning softly. His entire body protested against the movement, and despite wanting to flop down on the bed right here, he knows he has to clean up. Spamton walks to the mirror, and looks at the deep indents that the seam of his binder cause on his torso. He winces a bit at the sight, and runs his fingers through the soft fur that runs from his chest to his lower torso, trying to smooth it out a bit.

Looking back at himself in the mirror, he leans in, looking at his hair. There's a bit of peach fuzz on his face, thanks to the testosterone shots he takes. Running his fingers over it, he smiles, but still pulls out his razor, and begins to shave it off. Despite the affirming feeling of facial hair, Spamton knows that a beard is too much effort to dye, unlike his hair. Since he dyes his roots every other week, sometimes more often, he knows he wouldn't be able to keep up with a beard, without it looking weird or out of place. Looking at his roots, he decides he can wait another couple days before dying them, thanks to the way he styles his hair. After he cleans the gel out of his hair, and takes the stage makeup off his face, he finally lets himself sink into his bed, sighing softly.

Just as he finally feels his eyes beginning to close, he's snapped back to reality by the harsh ringing of a phone. He shoots up, his eyes darting to the black phone by his bed. He already feels a bead of sweat dripping down the side of his head. The last thing he wants right now is a call from his ominous "benefactor", and he certainly doesn't want to deal with any threats right now. Spamton swallows thickly, and reaches out, his hand slowly closing around the phone. He takes a deep breath in, and brings the receiver to his ear. "Hello...?" His voice comes out a little more shaky and high pitched than he intends, and he internally curses himself for it, before frantically smoothing back his hair, a nervous tick that he's picked up since joining the sales industry.

"yyyELLOO?" The voice on the other end of the phone surprises Spamton for a moment, and he blinks, looking around. "Uhm, Hello? Who is [[Who's there?]]" He asks, his posture relaxing a bit. "It's TENNA, you goof!" The receiver chirps at him, and Spamton subconsciously lets out a breath of relief. Oh, it's just the CRT. "Oh, hey [cathode], why are you calling me so late?" He queries, furrowing his brow. "Oh yeah, right!" Tenna chimed, laughing softly. "I called you to ask you if YOU'D like to go on a double date with me!" Spamton blinks at the receiver, and pauses for a moment. What? A date with the guy he's known for.... a DAY? "Uhm..... I'm [uncertain] if that would be...-" Spamton is cut off by a laugh from the other end of the call, and a half-giggle response. "Haha! I really got you, didn't I? I mean in the context of the show!" Tenna laughed, kicking his feet a little at his desk. "I know it's only your second day on set, but I figure it would be fun!" He says, twirling the phone cord as he waits for a response. "Oh, uhm..." Spamton falters, feeling his face heat up. Is it embarrassment? Yes. Yep, it's definitely embarrassment. Nothing else. Nothing else at all. "Uh.... [[press the green button for YES!]?" He says, raising one eyebrow a little.

"fanTASTIC!!!" Tenna squeals from the other end of the call, smiling brightly. "Just come to set tomorrow, and I'll have an outfit ready for you!" He says, practically vibrating with excitement. "Alright, I'll [[watch those numbers rise!]] you tomorrow then, [[box head]]." Spamton says, and instantly covers his mouth, feeling his face heat up fast. Shit! Why did his tics always choose the worst moments to come out? He hardly knows this guy, his biggest shot yet at fame, and he's spitting out insults! There's a beat of silence from the other end of the call, and then he hears Tenna's voice. It's a bit softer than it was before, more gentle. "I meant to ask you, but I didn't want to do it in front of the crew... what is that that you do?" Tenna asks, bouncing his leg nervously. "Like, the voice thing..." He says quietly, chewing on his lower lip a bit. "It's alright if you don't want to say, I'm just curious..." He murmurs, looking hopefully at the phone in his hand. This time, it's Spamton's turn to be quiet for a moment. "Oh, uh.." He falters, before finding his voice. "It's a verbal tic, it's something... something I can't [[F1 for help, help!]]. Kind of like getting a... y'know... spam ad. You can't [[GET IT OFF ME, GET IT OFF!!]], until you can [clothes] it out." He says, trying to think of a simple way to explain it. Tenna narrows his eyes, trying to understand. "Uhh... what's a spam ad?" He asks sheepishly, looking away from the phone, even though Spamton can't see him. The smaller darkner laughs, and pushes his hair back. "Think of it like an [[HOUR LONG INFOMERCIAL BREAK!]]" He tries, attempting to appeal to the CRT's older fashioned understandings of things. "Ohh, alright, alright!" Tenna nods, and hums. "Well, I think it's interesting! Helps ya stand out!" He smiles, leaning back in his chair. "Well, thanks for pickin' up, Spamton! I'll see you later!"

The phone clicks, but Spamton keeps standing there, staring at the wall. Interesting. TENNA. One of the top big shots, thinks... HE'S... interesting? Spamton can feel a blush spreading on his cheeks, but it's certainly only because of the praise. Not because of any other implications that he got from that. Definitely not. Not at all. Everything is great, he's moving up in the world, and he DEFINITELY isn't going to be thinking about how Tenna's voice softened when he praised him ALL NIGHT. Because Spamton G. Spamton does NOT get attached to people, he only uses them to get up in the world, and he does NOT like it a little too much when his new boss praises him.

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Tenna sits up with a jolt the next morning, his alarm startling him from his sleep. He runs a hand over his screen, before fumbling around a little, reaching for the back of his head, and flipping the red switch. With a deep inhale, his screen flickers to life, and he sits up, checking his watch. 5:30, right on time. He makes his way to the shower, and turns on the water, feeling the warmth rush over his silicone-padded body. He looks down at the padding over him, and smiles lightly.

A few years back, there was an incident where he hugged a fan too tight, and accidentally hurt them. Not seriously, of course, but he felt terrible, and decided to invest in getting his hard metal body padded in all the right spots to make him more soft and huggable. There's about two inches of silicone on his chest, and the rest of his body has varying levels of padding to ensure safety. Despite not really needing to shower, he likes to, as it helps him feel more refreshed. When he steps out of the shower, he dries himself off with a fluffy towel, and begins to gather his clothes.

When Spamton arrives at the TV Time set, he finds a suit in a bag with a note written on it. "Dear Spamton, I am not able to be here to give this to you, as I need to help Elnina and Lanino get ready. When you get here, just throw this on, it's matching with me. You'll find your script on the green room table, so don't be afraid to look over it! Our double date section will be partial improv though, so be ready to act! ~Tenna" Spamton arches an eyebrow, and picks up the suit and the script, putting on his outfit in a dressing room. It's comfortable and fancy, and matches Tenna's own suit. Spamton looks at himself in the mirror, already envisioning the cheers once he steps out onto the stage. Yesterday was one of his first real tastes of fame, and it was nothing short of wonderful. He straightens out, and smooths out the front of his suit, grinning in the mirror.

He picks up the script, and begins to read it over. A lot of it is pretty general, giving him options for improv and putting in his own acting. However, a highlighted section catches his eye. Next to it in pen is a little TV doodle, definitely drawn by Tenna, with a quick 'Have to do!' Written next to it. Okay, so one part is specifically scripted, it can't be that bad, right?

Spamton can feel the hot lights of the stage shining on him as he leans against Tenna's shoulder, his eyes fixed up on his face. "Thanks for inviting me, [honey]..." He murmurs, his cheeks flushed bright red, and it sure as hell isn't just the stage makeup. "No problem, Spammy!" Tenna smiles, booping Spamton's nose with a large finger. The taller darkner dramatically checks his watch, and taps his foot, shifting in his chair on the fake date setup. "I suppose we should be going home soon, you two!" Tenna says, looking to Lanina and Elnino, who are sitting across from the other two darkners. The two weather reporters nod, smiling, making a big deal out of holding each other's hands and skipping off stage together.

Spamton swallows thickly, watching Tenna go through his lines, following along, but not really all there. It's okay, this is all just acting, nothing will change. He steps closer to centerstage, talking to Tenna, half-facing the audience. "The stars are really bright tonight..." Tenna murmurs, and looks up at the prop stars. "Reminds me of you." He says, and Spamton holds his breath. That was it. The final line. And then...

A shiver runs up the smaller darkner's spine as he feels Tenna's hand slip around his back, his thumb partially cradling his head. He holds his breath, feeling Tenna's other hand slip beneath his hips, holding him up, cradled gently in the CRT's hands. He cracks his eye open, and feels his face get hot. All he can see is Tenna, gazing down at him, and despite Tenna not having eyes, Spamton can feel the bedroom eyes the taller darkner is giving him. Then, quick and simple, Tenna leans in, pressing his lips to Spamton's. His heart is pounding out of his chest. One of his hands finds its way to Tenna's wrist to hold onto his sleeve, his eyes squeezed shut. Acting. Acting. Acting... kissing back, a little, just... just to make it look realistic... his other hand slips up to Tenna's screen, gently holding it, leaning into the kiss a little more. The curtains close, but Spamton doesn't notice. Kissing, Kissing, feeling his tongue slide against Tenna's, as a shiver runs up his spine. He's only snapped out of his trance when Tenna pulls away, and clears his throat. A strand of saliva connects them for a moment, and they both stand in silence, faces flushed red, before they both run opposite directions. "A-ALRIGHT, IM GOING TO GO [[NEW YEAR'S RESOLUTION]] INTO MY OTHER CLOTHES!" Spamton blurts out, Tenna fumbling out a "I'll be in my changing room!"

As they both run, they quickly realize that they went in the wrong direction, and speedwalk past each other once again, before locking themselves in their changing rooms. Tenna feels his antennae curl above his head, and he leaps onto his couch, squealing into the pillow and kicking his feet. Spamton stands in silence for a moment, before just simply walking towards the mirror, and slamming his fist into it. He winces slightly at the glass cutting him, but he kicks the trash can next to him, yelling in frustration. Before he knows it, he's slamming his foot into the table in his changing room, until it's splintered on the floor. He wants to explode, wants to bang his head on a wall until it shatters, but he wants to feel THAT again, wants to know what it feels like when Tenna slides his whole tongue down his throat, what it feels like to have his throat full of Tenna's- "ALRIGHT THATS ENOUGH!" He yells to himself, hitting his head, before slumping onto the floor, his hands in his hair.

Shit, shit, this is NOT good! A man he's known for two days, kissing him like THAT for an "act"? It doesn't seem right, not at all! He's about to get up and leave, when suddenly, a ringing sound breaks him from his thoughts. It sounds like the black rotary phone he has at home, but why is it ringing in his changing room? And why is it coming from the closet? He slowly stands up, his hands getting shaky, as he suddenly feels clammy and cold, like he has a fever. He makes his way to the closet, and opens it. Lo and behold, the phone is there. But why? He wants to run, wants to shut the door and get away, but like he has no control, his hand raises up and picks up the receiver. He's met with the static of a dead line, but he knows better. "Hello?" He says weakly, and the distorted, odd voice of his "benefactor" meets his ears.

"Hello, Spamton. I think you'll find it in your best interest to... leave this contract with Mr. Tenna." The voice says, sounding uninterested and monotone. Spamton's eyes bulge out of his head. Out of anything he was expecting, it was NOT that. "WHAT?!" Spamton blurts. "Why?! I went through [[heaven and hell]] to get here- YOU went through so much to get [[lets go to the show!]]! Are we just supposed to [[hold up the white flag for forfeit]]?" He demands, feeling frustration course through him. "You must be [[COMEDY SPECIL]]! This is my best shot yet! The people love [[ITS ALL ABOUT ME, ME ME!!!]], and it's only my second day on the [[feature presentation]]!" He says, flustered and upset. The other end of the call his dead for a moment, before the voice comes through again, this time less patient. "Have I ever lead you astray?" The Benefactor asks. Spamton hesitates, before replying. "Well, [[know]], but-" The man on the other end cuts him off. "THEN DON'T QUESTION ME AGAIN. You do as I say, and you get famous. Don't make me remind you of the rules of our contract..." The receiver seems to mock him, and he swallows thickly. "A-alright." He says, running his hand through his hair. "I'll [do it]." He murmurs, and hangs up the line.

Spamton sits in his changing room for a while, not sure what to do. Eventually, he picks up the phone again, and dials Tenna's number. Yes, he's just a hallway away, but he can't bear the thought of seeing Tenna shrink down when he says he needs to end the contract. He inhales deeply, hearing the line ring. Ring. Ring... suddenly, it cuts to a voicemail message from Tenna. "Hey there! If you're a fan calling, press 3 to get forwarded to one of my attendants, and they'll relay the message! If you're a friend calling, leave a message at the beep!" Theres a cutoff of Tenna's voice saying "Was that alri-" before the beep plays. Clenching his fists, Spamton speaks into the phone. "Hello, it's Spamton. I'm leaving this message to inform you I think that TV Time is not right for me, and I will not be returning. Thank you." He hangs up the phone, and with a sinking feeling in his chest, he gathers his things, and rushes out of the building. This is what the life of a star is, right? You always need to be climbing the ladder...

So why does it make his heart hurt so bad?

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As Spamton rushes out of the studio, he hears a sudden creak behind him. He whips around, his eyes wide, as he frantically scans the area. It's like every nerve is on fire... nothing looks out of place, and no one is there, so hesitantly, Spamton walks towards his car, exhaling deeply. He reaches for the car door, and

That morning, when Spamton wakes up, he stretches languidly, feeling much better rested than he has in a long time. He must have been really tired after he got home yesterday from the set. When he got home... he can't really remember that, come to think of it. He kind of just... woke up in bed. He glances around, and shrugs, brushing it off as exhaustion from a day of work. He pours himself a cup of coffee, and hums softly. A tune he doesn't fully remember, but it just feels right. He puts on his red suit, and gets into his car, checking the time. Six am, just enough time to get to set and be ready by the time filming starts at seven fifteen. As he pulls out of his driveway, a content smile spreads on his face, and he relaxes into the smooth leather of his seat.

At the studio, Tenna sits at his desk, tapping one clawed finger on the wood, watching the clock with a sharp eye. It's six 13. Spamton left thirteen minutes ago. He'll arrive at about six forty, get dressed, and be ready to go by seven. Just as planned. Just as Tenna wants it. As his finger drums on the wooden surface, he glances towards the phone on his desk. Last night, it had rung at a rather inconvenient time. He had decided not to pick up, only to hear it automatically play the message Spamton had left him. Unfortunately, Tenna couldn't let his new favorite actor run off like that.

Tenna stands abruptly, and walks to the mirror, smiling at himself. He smooths out his suit, and tightens his tie, before making his way to the greenroom, cheerfully talking to Pippins, helping set up everything as needed. At Six thirty-eight, the door opens, revealing Spamton, standing there in his suit, a cup of coffee in his hand. Tenna smiles brightly, waving him over. "Spamton! Glad you're here! Are you ready?" He asks, already ushering a makeup Pippins towards him.

"I got you set up with a makeup artist, so you don't need to worry about doing it yourself!" He chirps, and hands Spamton a script. "We have a special show today; there are some good contestants! That's the layout, so you know what to expect!" The taller darkner smiles, and motions towards Spamton's green room. "Oh, thanks, [[Tens]]!" Spamton says, the nickname slipping out like second nature. Despite only knowing the older man for a few days, he already feels safe with him. Comfortable. As Spamton finds his way to his makeup room, the Pippins trailing behind him, he holds the door open, and enters the room after the Pippins. He tilts his head, looking at the broken table on the ground. That's weird, how did that get there? He'll make sure to let Tenna know, so he doesn't think it was him.

After his makeup and hair is done, the clock hits seven, and Spamton is walking towards the show stage with Tenna, the two of them sharing playful banter and jokes. When they get to the stage, they take their places, before beginning the first section of the day, a quick round of challenges for Kris to watch while they eat cereal in front of the TV

After what only feels like a few minutes, Spamton realizes that they're wrapping up the final section of the night. "And that's the sports report of the day, folks!" Tenna says, wrapping up Asgore's after-work section. "Well, it looks like it's about time for all you TV-lovers to head off to bed!" He says, motioning dramatically at the large "TV TIME" clock at the back of the oversaturated stage. "Now that we've wrapped up your late night segment, it's time to put on some VHS tapes, or a music channel, provided to you by our lovely workers here on set!" He says cheerfully. "But that's all for us for today! TV Time will be right back, at seven fifteen tomorrow, and don't forget about our weather segment at eight!" He chimes, before straightening out his papers, and waving at the camera. "Goodnight, all you out there!" Tenna turns to Spamton, who in turn, cheerfully adds; "And lets get [[one more time! one more time!]] 'I LOVE TV!'" The two of them put their hands against their heads, listening as the crowd cheers out the slogan, and Spamton can practically see Tenna grow with pride.

As the curtains close, and a mike offstage yells "CLEAR!" Spamton and Tenna grin at each other, fist bumping, before going their separate ways to change. Spamton looks in the mirror, humming, wiping the makeup off his face, bopping his head lightly to the TV Time theme that plays on the outro. He turns to the closet behind him to grab his clothes, but... it isn't there. Wasn't there a closet here? Yeah, he took his clothes out of it last night after... after...

Spamton rubs his head, trying to clear his head. It feels like after the show last night, everything is a big, fuzzy mess. He tries to retrace his steps. After Tenna had acted out kissing him, he came to the room, and jumped on his bed, squealing into his pillow... the thought made him cringe a little. He NEVER did anything like that, but he remembers it clear as day. After that, he stood up, and took off his makeup... and... he just CAN'T seem to remember anything beyond that! He runs a hand through his hair, sighing, chewing on his lower lip. Strange. Maybe he should ask Tenna...?

Meanwhile, Tenna sits in his room, sitting at his desk, talking to Elnina and Lanino. "I know, I know! It wasn't the best move, but... I couldn't let him leave! I'm sure you two understand?" He says hopefully. The two reporters share a glance, and Elnina sighs, nodding. "Look, we understand why you did it, but you need to understand that you can never do it again!" She lowers her voice, leaning in a little. "You know brainwashing isn't an exact science! What if he finds out?" She says, looking to Lanino, who nods, looking at Tenna. "If he does, it could be very bad. We understand that you don't want to lose any more staff, especially one you've bonded with so quickly, but I would be lying if I said I think it was a good idea."

The two nod, and Tenna sighs, looking down at the table, shrinking just a bit. "You're right... but it's such a mess! Am I supposed to try and undo it? That would be nearly impossible!" Tenna frets, his antennae twisting nervously. Lanino quickly shakes his head, and looks to Elnina. "No, definitely don't try and undo it. Just... maybe try and actually get to know him...? Plus, he seems... kind of seedy. Like, y'know, maybe there's... a bigger man upstairs, if you catch my drift." He says, and Elnina nods. "I think he's right, maybe... maybe you actually did the right thing?" She says gently. "Sometimes, people are in really bad situations, and if he just... forgets about it..." She trails off, shrugging. "I'm not saying it was good, not at all! But... I think you can make it okay." She reassures, and Tenna nods, smiling sheepishly. "Thanks, you two."

The two weather reporters nod, and say their goodbyes, before leaving the studio for the night. Tenna leans back, resting his head on the back of his chair. He closes his eyes, and dims the lights, trying to wind down for the night before he heads back to his house. But of course, he can't stop thinking about last night... the way Spamton had kissed him back on stage like that... he had originally just planned it to be an innocent joke, but after seeing the way Spamton looked pressed against him on the fake date, he just couldn't help himself... and it certainly didn't help how it made him feel when he had brainwashed the poor puppet...

Oh, the way he just melted into his hands, how he was pliant, willing to stay, to never abandon him... Tenna sighs dreamily, feeling his cheeks heat up. He shivers in his chair, his grip on the armrests tightening as he remembers how Spamton fit in his hands, how he had looked up at him with that dopey, mindless smile. His sharp eyes, normally so full of wit and cunning, all glazed and dreamy. He groans softly to himself, and stands up, glancing at the clock. Shit, it was later than he thought... and now on top of all that, he needs to take a cold shower.

Chapter Text

Spamton stretches out in his dressing room, his hands above his head as he sighs softly, letting the tension leave his body after the day of work in the studio. He rolls his neck and begins to gather his things. Just a briefcase full of makeup and his other clothes, but tonight, he's too tired to change here, so he decides to wear the TV Time suit home; he can wash it there anyways. Spamton walks out to the exit door, and makes his way to his car, starting it up, and beginning the long drive home back to cyber city. 

Tenna puts the keys in his ignition, and presses on the gas, pulling out surprisingly quickly, as he's regularly a very safe driver. However, today, he has a certain friend to catch up with. He watches Spamton's taillights pull out of the lot, before following behind him. He drums his clawed fingers on the steering wheel, feeling a pang of guilt. This is a bit strange, isn't it? Most bosses wouldn't follow their workers home, especially not after the past two days. However, Tenna argues to himself, he's watching out for Spamton's safety. 

Tenna knows that brainwashing can certainly get messy, and it can be easy to make someone forget simple things like where their house is, or how to drive on a highway. So, he tries to ignore the gnawing in his stomach as he follows the smaller darkner home. 

By the time that Spamton reaches his apartment, he's worn out and annoyed. There was some asshole tailgating him the whole time, and he felt like he was being followed. He walks up to the door, and groans as he sees a garbage bag left by his next-door neighbor, Nubert. It was his turn to throw out the trash, as they both rotated on a schedule, but Nubert would always leave it right outside the complex door, and blame it on Spamton if it didn't get thrown out. Dammit. The last thing he wanted right now was to deal with garbage. He was hardly even tall enough to reach the dumpster without standing on his tiptoes... 

Tenna pulls up alongside the apartment a few minutes later, quickly turning off his lights and engine, and looking out the window. He watches Spamton struggle to lift up the garbage bag, and a small, fond smile grows on his lips, before he snaps himself out of it. Okay, Spamton is home and safe now. It's DEFINITLEY time to leave. But, he can't seem to find the courage to turn on the car just yet. He's throwing out the garbage, is it really that bad to make sure he gets INSIDE safe? No, of course, not... so he sits there for a while, watching the clock in his car. Five minutes. Ten minutes. Fifteen minutes.

By the time eighteen minutes have passed, Tenna opens the car door, and begins to walk towards the apartment complex. Spamton still hasn't returned... Tenna makes his way towards the back dumpsters, and he nearly passes out. Spamton is cornered against the wall, weakly trying to push away a poppup, as it repeatedly whacks him with its long arms, demanding that he acknowledge it's ads. Before he can think, Tenna grows even larger, his screen going a little bit darker. 

"EXCUSE ME." His voice comes out staticky and glitched, his hands in tight fists at his sides. The poppup looks over, at the massive, looming figure at the end of the alley. Spamton whips his head over, his eyes going wide. "Tens!? What the [[WOMEN WANT TO FUCK NEAR YOU!!]] are you doing [HERE]?!" He cries, but Tenna is already closing the distance towards the poppup. Even though the poppup is about ten feet tall, Tenna still towers over the darkner, head twitching just a little, his antennae rigid and spiked. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"  Tenna demands, his hand slamming into the wall next to them, looming over the poppup. 

The smaller darkner glitches awkwardly, beginning to back up. "LEEVINGG...." It tries, slowly trying to creep by Tenna. "GOOD." Tenna spits, watching Spamton's harasser turn away. As soon as it turns the corner, Tenna shrinks down, and instinctively lifts Spamton into his hands, like an injured kitten, his antennae drooping as he takes in Spamton's scratched form, the beginning of bruises already forming on his soft skin. "Oh, oh Spammy..." He says softly, pulling the smaller darkner against his chest, cradling him softly. 

Spamton's face flushes red, and he just sits in stunned silence for a moment as Tenna holds him, before he feels hot tears welling in his eyes. What the hell? Why is he crying? He doesn't cry, businessmen don't show emotion. MEN don't show emotion. But as Tenna holds him close, and rubs soothing circles on his back, cooing soothing words, everything - even the confusion on why Tenna is here, and how he knows where he lives - melts away, into raw, weak little sobs. 

Spamton doesn't process Tenna reaching into his pocket and pulling out his house key, and finding the apartment off of the number, until he suddenly realizes Tenna is laying him down on his bed, stroking his hair. The older darkner is shrunken down to fit into his apartment, and looking at him with worried eyes. "Are you okay, Spammy?" Tenna asks softly, his heart aching for the smaller darkner. Through teary eyes, and sobs that slowly recede, Spamton nods, his lip quivering. He wipes his nose, and slowly sits up, curling up a little. "S-sorry you had to [sea] that, Tens..." He murmurs, looking away in shame. 

Tenna's eyes widen, and he shakes his head, reaching out to cradle Spamton's face in his hands. "What are you talking about, big shot? You don't need to be sorry! It's that damn poppup that should be..." Tenna growls, glaring out the window at the nonexistent enemy. Spamton smiles weakly, looking up at the CRT. "Thanks..." He sighs, and looks down at his outfit. He REALLY needs to change. He runs a hand through his hair, and sighs, beginning to stand up. But Tenna quickly protests, putting a gentle hand in front of Spamton. "W-wait! You shouldn't get up, you could be hurt... I'll do it..." Tenna whispers, his hands drifting towards the buttons of Spamton's shirt. 

But as he begins, Spamton's breathing picks up rapidly, memories of past lovers and friends screaming and abusing him once they saw his binder or found out he was trans, and he feels a panic attack beginning to take course as memories of that night come rushing back. Hands on his shirt, pulling it over his head, and then hateful screams in his ear as he was held down on the bed, someone he was supposed to be able to trust trying to prove he was female through the most hateful actions. 

He suddenly smacks Tenna's hand away, his eyes wide and brimming with tears again. "NO! Get away from me!" He yells, backing up against the headboard of his bed, his stomach twisting, chills running through his body. His breathing comes in and out faster than he can process it, as he's forced to watch from the outside as his trauma takes control, his feet kicking at an invisible danger. 

Tenna holds his hands up, eyebrows shooting up, before he quickly backs away, shaking his head. "I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean- I- What can I do, I'm sorry!" He fumbles, watching with a scared expression. He's never seen anything like this before, and he has no idea what he's supposed to do. He backs away, wanting nothing more than to take the smaller man into his arms and cradle him until everything is okay, but he can tell that would NOT help right now.

"D-Don't touch me! GET OUT!" Spamton screams, his hands coming to cover the top of his head, as if trying to protect himself from the falling debris of his trauma. Tenna really begins to panic, looking around in terror. What is he supposed to do? What CAN he do? He shakes his head, trying to keep his voice as soft as possible, kneeling down in front of the bed, while keeping his distance. "S-Spammy, I'm not going to leave you alone like this, you-" 

Tenna lets out a groan of pain as a phone receiver collides with his face, groaning and holding the plastic of his screen in pain. "DON'T CALL ME THAT!" Spamton yells, his eyes wide and panicked, like the shadows are all ready to attack him. Rubbing his screen, Tenna looks over to Spamton, feeling his heart ache. He doesn't want to make the younger darkner feel worse, but he can't bear the idea of leaving the poor thing alone now. He steps closer, slowly, holding his hands up like he's approaching a frightened animal. "Spamton? Spamton, it's me, Tenna..." He says quietly, his hand slowly reaching out, watching the crying darkner wince.

"Hey, hey, it's okay..." He says quietly, extending his palm. "I'm not going to hurt you, okay? Maybe other people have said that, and maybe they were lying, but I'm not... Pinky promise." He holds out his pinky finger, his face soft and concerned. Spamton slowly uncovers his face, looking up at the taller darkner. Tenna sits there, his hand extended, for what feels like years. He waits patiently, ready whenever Spamton is. Slowly, the smaller darkner reaches out, interlocking pinkies with the CRT.

Tenna smiles, and nods encouragingly, smiling down at Spamton. "Thats right... I'm still here... okay? I'm not leaving..." He murmurs, and softly holds Spamton's hand, getting a little bit closer. "Do you want to talk about it...?"

Chapter Text

Spamton nods, and slowly uncurls, looking up at Tenna. The taller darkner looks nothing short of a guardian angel to the mailman in this moment, with a gentle smile, his hand still gently interlocked with the shorter darkner's. "Whenever you're ready, I'm here to listen." Tenna says softly, beginning to rub soothing circles on the back of Spamton's hand, wanting to give him the comfort of physical touch without being overwhelming. He gazes down at the short man on the bed, and smiles again, tilting his head and waiting. 

After a short moment, Spamton speaks. "I-I'm not sure I want to [[WALKIE TALKIE]] about all of it, I-" Tenna cuts him off with a soft shush, and sits on the bed, pulling the shorter darkner a bit closer. "Hey, you don't need to say anything you don't need to, Spammy." He says softly, letting Spamton hold his hand a little tighter. "Just what you're comfortable sharing. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere. It doesn't need to be pretty, and you don't need to sugarcoat it." He murmurs, gently stroking Spamton's hair back, a habit he's noticed in the younger darkner. 

Spamton swallows down the lump re-forming in his throat, and nods, and pulls away slightly, and begins to undo his shirt. For a moment, Tenna looks at him, confused, before Spamton pulls off his shirt, revealing what looks like a skintight tank top. Tenna looks away sheepishly, his antennae drooping a little bit. "Uhm... what... what's that...?" He asks, a little (very) embarrassed that he doesn't know why Spamton made such a big deal about it. 

Spamton pauses, before suddenly, he starts laughing. Tenna looks down even more, fidgeting with his hands, shrinking a bit. "I-I'm sorry..." He says quietly. Spamton, through giggles, wraps his arm around Tenna's own arm, and squeezes gently. "Tens, Tens! It's alright, don't worry about it!" He soothes, his smile coming back a bit. Tenna is still red, but he perks up a little bit. He's an older model, and he doesn't really understand the modern world that much... partially why he hired Spamton. 

"It's a binder, Tens!" Spamton smiles, and Tenna looks around, only more confused now. "Like.... the kind for papers...?" He tries, instantly going even more red as he realizes what a stupid guess that was, hiding his face in his hands, shrinking down even more. Spamton, now holding his torso, giggling like a madman, gently hits Tenna's shoulder, leaning on him softly. "Aww, Tenny!" He teases, watching the TV host blush somehow even deeper. 

After a moment of giggling, even Tenna beginning to laugh a little, Spamton finally speaks again. "No, it's... well, I guess I should explain something else, first." He says, taking Tenna's hand again, and looking into his eyes- well, where they would be. "I'm Transgender, Tenna. That means I was [[hatched]] in a [[HOT WOMEN IN YOUR AREA WANT TO FUCK!!]] body, but I-" Tenna cuts him off with a loud, exited "OHHHH!!!" The CRT looks almost excited, growing rapidly, his antennae sticking up. "LIKE MIKE!" He grins, clapping his hands together. "Small Mike is like you! And Cowboy hat Mike is... kind of like you? They... they use pronouns like there would be multiple, but its just them, and-" 

Now it's Spamton's turn to cut off Tenna. "You don't need to [[INFORMERCIAL]] non-binary to me, Tens..." He chuckles, and Tenna looks down, giggling softly. "Y-Yeah, I guess you probably know more about that than I do..." He says with a sheepish grin, rubbing his arm a little. “W-well, I know what that means, but… what… what's a binder?” He asks, shrinking a little again.

With a soft smile, Spamton motions to the binder on his chest. “It's for pre-surgery trans men like me, who've still got [[BIG BOOBIES!?!?1!?!?!?1]] and need to flatten them.” He says, the two taking a moment to giggle about the vocal tic. Tenna nods slowly, and thinks about it for a moment. “So… a little bit like a bra, but… it makes your chest flat…?” He tries, clearly using a lot of power to understand. Spamton nods, smiling up at him, and he feels a slight blush dust his cheeks. “I… I don't really [[see and tell]] anyone, a lot of people think it's… unnatural.” He murmurs, looking away from Tenna.

The TV host tilts his head, and a soft, sympathetic smile spreads on his face. “Well, I think you're… the most manly.” He tries, his antennae twisting a little. “More manly than a lot of guys who've tried to work for me.” Spamton tilts his head, furrowing his brow. 

“Hm? What do you [[TOP FIVE FNAF THEORIES AND THEIR MEANING]]?” He questions, looking up at the CRT. Tenna shrugs, and looks away. “Y'know, businessmen who just want to take the company. I do what I do because I love it, and…. Because I like the attention.” He admits shyly, putting his hands in his lap.

Spamton feels a slight jab of guilt; after all, that is kind of what his Benefactor is trying to have happen… he swallows, and smiles up at Tenna, feeling an annoying gnawing in his stomach. This is his job! He needs to be able to leave things behind eventually, but… he still feels bad at the idea of leaving Tenna. Luckily, he'll never have to do that. TV Time is his calling, and it's where he finally feels at home. He sighs softly, feeling the gnawing in his gut subside. 

“Thanks, Tens…” He smiles, and fiddles with a loose string on his binder. Now that his panic attack is over, and Tenna knows why he reacted like that — well, at least partially— he feels a little awkward. Not that Tenna makes him uncomfortable, Tenna feels like home. But now he's sitting in his binder with his boss next to him on the bed.

“Uh….” Spamton mumbles, glancing up at Tenna, then back to the ground. “So, you [mentioned in passing]… you said small Mike is [[TESTOSTERONE FOR CHEAP SPECIL DEAL!!1!1] too…?” He asks, trying to talk about something. Tenna nods, and smiles, before his screen changes to a slight look of contemplation. “Yeah, but… I've seen him shirtless, and he doesn't have a binder.” He says, tilting his head. 

After a short pause, Spamton looks up at the CRT. “Well, did he have two [[EXTRA LARGE SIZE]] scars right [hear]?” He asks, motioning to right below his chest, where his binder begins to end. Tenna puts his head on his hand, thinking, before nodding. “Yeah, actually, I think he does!” He chirps, before pausing. “...and that means… what?” He asks, his face turning pink. Spamton smiles, and crosses his arms. “It means he [acquired] top surgery.” Seeing Tenna's confused face, he smiles, and explains. “It means he got his [[BAZOINGAS!?!?]] removed.”

“THEY CAN DO THAT?!” Tenna exclaims, his antennae shooting straight up, and his hands coming to cup his silicone chest like he's scared a doctor is waiting outside to take his silicone padding. Spamton laughs, nodding, a grin spreading on his face, revealing a tooth gap between his canine tooth and the beginning of his molars. “Yeah, [cathode], they can do [[Anything, anything!!]] 

Tenna stares for a moment, before blinking. “Wow… that's incredible!” He muses, before his expression turns soft. “Aside from all of that, though…” he gives Spamton a soft smile. “You can always count on me to support you… no matter what.”

Spamton smiles back up at him, and before he knows it, he's hugging the taller darkner again, feeling more safe and warm than he has in years. After all, 

Tenna is his home. And he never, EVER wants leave.

Chapter Text

"Come on, let's get you outta here." Tenna murmurs, gathering Spamton into his arms, holding him gently, walking him to his closet. "I'm sure there's a fun joint around here you know about..." Tenna says softly, smiling down at the smaller darkner. "We can go hang out somewhere, get a drink or two...?" He offers, smiling. Spamton looks up at him, and slowly nods, a grin spreading on his face. "Yeah... yeah, let's [[PARTY TIME?!]." He smiles, and stands up, making his way to his mirror, re-slicking his hair, and putting on some cologne. 

Spamton and Tenna reach his car, and the two chat happily as the red convertible whips down the highway. Tenna's antennae blow in the wind, and Spamton can feel his slicked hair loosening at the ends. But he doesn't really care, just enjoying the moment as him and Tenna share stories and jokes together. "...And then, I told him, the bonus round only qualifies if I WANT you on the show!" Tenna exclaims, finishing one of his set stories with a barking laugh, throwing his head back. Spamton's jaw falls open, and he grins widely, laughing with the CRT. "You SAID that? You [playtime] dirty, Tens!" He laughs, playfully hitting the older darkner's arm. 

"You don't know the HALF of it, Spammy!" Tenna teases, sighing and leaning back on the chair that's a bit too small for him. He could shrink down, but he likes to feel tall. As Spamton pulls off the highway, he gets to a nearly fully neon alley, lined with bars, clubs, and all sorts of buildings that Tenna didn't even know existed. Spamton pulls up alongside a particularly large bar, and Tenna looks to his right to see a massive building with a huge lit up sign that reads "LOVE SHACK". They step out, and the large CRT looks around, seeing all types of darkners along the streets, lining the walls inside and outside the club. "Is this a... bar and club?" He asks, feeling a bit silly to ask it. 

Spamton nods with a smirk, watching Tenna get a bit taller out of habit. "Yeah, I normally have to [[watch time is up!]] my back, so I don't get [[mufasa'ed]], but with a hunk of a TV like you, I think I'll be [[on easy street!]]~" He teases, looking up at the bigger darkner. Tenna quickly covers his face, blushing, his antennae shooting straight up. "Spammy! Don't say things like that! You-" He's suddenly cut off by the sound of a loud shriek. The two whip around, assuming someone's in danger, only to see a female darkner with a bright red dress running towards them. "OH MY GOD! YOU TWO ARE THOSE TOTALLY MARRIED TV TIME HOSTS, RIGHT?!" She screams, making Spamton's lips curl back, and Tenna's antennae twitch and bend. 

"Uh, yeah, sure, [[sweet cheeks]]." Spamton says, internally cringing at the tic. The two hosts look at each other, before back at the darkner. "And uh, we're not married." Tenna says, though his screen gets a slight pixelated blush at the mention of it. "Not [yet] anyways!" Spamton grins, winking. Tenna covers his face again, and the girl practically jumps for joy. "THAT'S SO CUTE!!" She cries, and pulls out her phone. The longer they stand there, and she stumbles around, it becomes more obvious that she's drunk. "You two should like-" she pauses to catch her breath like she just ran a marathon, not just stood on a street. "-kiss like you... you did on that one dating segment!" She says, grinning at the two. "I can get a picture!" 

"[[HELL'S BELL'S]] NO!" 

"UHHH, I'D RATHER NOT!" 

The two blurt out at the same time, clearing their throats and straightening their suits. They quickly make their way away from the fan, avoiding stares and cameras as they enter the 'LOVE SHACK'. Spamton walks in, and the bartender, some guy who looks like he's made out of fire, smiles and waves at Spamton, waving him over. The two walk up to the bar, and Tenna helps Spamton get onto one of the stools, before turning to the bartender, who is looking at the two. "Let me guess... a cosmo?" He asks, and Spamton shakes his head, grinning. "I'd rather [[drink, drink, DRINK!]] a B-52 tonight. Hold the fire." He says, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet. 

The bartender nods, and turns to Tenna. "And for you, Mr. Tenna?" He asks, and the taller darkner's brow furrows. "How do you know who I am?" He asks, tilting his head. After a beat of silence, both Spamton and the bartender look at Tenna like he has three heads. "[[cathode]], you're the biggest entertainer in the [[gods dark world]]." He reminds the CRT, and Tenna looks away sheepishly. "I-I mean... I wasn't sure if I was famous here, I dunno!" He says, looking away, his screen bright red. "I-I'll have a Manhattan." He finally murmurs, looking up at the bartender. He nods, and goes to get them their drinks. 

After a couple too many drinks, and Spamton falling off of his chair twice, and Tenna almost breaking the smaller darkner's ribs from hitting him too hard when he laughs, the two are WASTED, but thanks to his sheer size, Tenna's just a bit more sober. A bit. They're easily the loudest in the club, dancing and laughing the whole night. Hours have passed before they even realize it, and it doesn't matter when they finally do. It's a friday night, and the Dreemurs will sleep in, meaning he doesn't need to be at the set until at least noon, and even then, the pippins and Elnina and Lanino could handle it. Regardless, they've nearly drank as much as is safe, before Spamton suddenly turns around.

Amidst the dance floor, a taller darkner has started dancing next to him, nearly as drunk as he is. She puts her hands on his shoulders, and follows his movements, running her hands along his arms until they're pressed against each other, his back to her chest, their bodies rubbing together. To Spamton, it's just some drunk chick who thinks he's hot and wants to dance. But to Tenna? Oh, to Tenna, it means war. 

Before he can even think, he grows even larger, looming over both of the darkners. While out, he normally shrinks down to a height of ten feet just for convenience, but now, he looms at his full imposing 16 feet, his antennae suddenly sharp and bent as he glares down. His chest heaves, and reaches out with one large hand, wrapping it fully around Spamton's waist, pulling the smaller darkner towards him, making Spamton squeak as he's suddenly pulled away. Tenna shrinks down again, but just enough so that he can grab Spamton's hands, and pull him close, their chests pressing together as he nuzzles his screen into Spamton's neck, dragging his long tongue along the smooth skin, groaning at the sharp gasp it elicits from Spamton. 

"C'mon, Spammy..." He growls, his body pressing close to the smaller darkner's. "Won't you dance with me?~" His voice is a low coo that in Spamton's state, shoots straight to the short salesman's cunt. "Oh, fuck... Tens...?" He murmurs, letting his head fall back. Tenna just presses a kiss to his neck, sucking a deep mark into his pale skin, biting down softly, his eyes locked on the female darkner's the whole time, as his hands maul Spamton's hips and ass, growling softly into his skin. 

The two continue their elicit dance, hips rubbing on thighs, sharp gasps in time with the music bumping through their bones. After a short while, Spamton pants against Tenna's chest, a slight bead of drool forming on the corner of his mouth. "C-c'mon, [10's], lets [[make this commercial break last!]] at my [[residence]]..." He murmurs, his tics much more frequent now that he's drunk. Tenna nods rapidly, and practically drags the smaller darkner to the car. This time, he gets in the driver's seat, ignoring Spamton's protests. "I have a plan, Spam..." Tenna murmurs, soothing Spamton with a gentle stroke of his hair, quickly subduing the other TV host.

Spamton crawls into the passenger seat, and Tenna whips out of the alleyway, and heads out of the neon street, heading for the highway. As he pulls onto the fast lane, his hands fumble with his belt buckle, undoing the gold TV latch with one hand, panting heavily. Spamton looks at him, confused, before his eyes go wide. OH. Those pants, despite how tight they are, are REALLY good at hiding boners. Noted. Tenna groans, unzipping his fly, and palming his erection through his satin boxers, a dark spot of precum forming on the red fabric already. He pats his thighs, seeing how Spamton's eyes glaze over with something akin to hunger when he sees Tenna's hard-on. 

"C-c'mon, sweetheart..." He coaxes through gritted teeth, to which Spamton eagerly complies, already halfway over the center console as Tenna speaks. He positions himself on the leather so his mouth is level with Tenna's groin, pressing his nose slightly against the growing bulge. He groans softly as Tenna tightens his grip on the wheel, panting. Suddenly, he begins to crawl onto Tenna, and he's about to argue, before the small darkner gets down between his legs, wedging himself between the pedals and Tenna's crotch. It's dangerous, sure, but they've got cruise control, and both of them are way too horny to care. 

Tenna pants softly, and nods, feeling Spamton press his cheek against the satin of his boxers, his eyes rolling back slightly. "Oh, fuckkk... Spammy, you're so cute~" He groans, his hand stroking the smaller host's hair. His chest heaves, but even through his haze of lust and need, he looks down at Spamton gently. "I don't want you to feel like you NEED to do this, if you're uncomfortable, you can- nnnGGHHH!" He's cut off by one of his own loud moans as Spamton lets his tongue loll out against the fabric of his bulge, breathing hard, licking the satin bulge, before pulling down the waistband. When he gets the boxers down far enough, he lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He had expected Tenna to be... proportionate... but even in a shrunken state, his dick is BIG. It's about the size of two of his hands, and the tip leaks slightly pearlescent precum. 

Why a TV host meant only for performing has a dick, and a big one at that, is beyond him. But he doesn't care. All Spamton knows is that he wants that thing in his mouth ASAP. He practically pounces on it, his mouth wrapping around the tip, and slowly working his way down. Tenna moans, his head falling back against the headrest, using all of his willpower not to grab Spamton's head and force him down more. He growls and bites his knuckle as Spamton slowly swallows around his erection, the muscles of his throat contracting deliciously against the sensitive flesh. 

"Fffuck, Spammyyyy~" He moans, panting, his head falling to the side as he strokes the other darkner's hair. "You're doing s'good..." He moans, his chest heaving. Spamton feels the praise roll through him in a physical wave of pleasure, shivering as he feels need pulse deep inside him. He feels his eyes roll back a little, and Tenna pauses his hand's movements on Spamton's hair for a moment, before a grin spreads on his face, his sharp teeth showing. "Ohh, does Spammy like that? You're doing so good, baby! My good boy~" He coos, his hips rolling up as Spamton wraps his hands around the part of Tenna's dick he can't take in his mouth.

Drool steadily drips down towards the base of Tenna's dick, as Spamton drools and moans around the flesh stretching his lips. Tenna pants and grits his teeth, his hands fisting Spamton's hair. Spamton doesn't stop, bobbing his head slowly, and letting his drool drip onto the head when he pulls off. He hollows his cheeks, and then presses down until he feels the tip press against the back of his throat, and keeps going until his nose is buried against Tenna's lower abdomen, and the taller darkner cries out, his hands tightening in Spamton's hair. "FUCK! You're so p-perfect, Spammy!~ Ohhh..." Tenna moans, his voice low and guttural, his head falling to the side. Spamton runs his tongue along a sensitive vein, and then pulls back slightly, putting his full attention on Tenna's tip, peppering it with kisses and licking along the sensitive swell, feeling heat building in his core as Tenna growls praise and moans out encouragement. By the time the two are pulling into Spamton's apartment, Tenna's chest is heaving, his antennae twitching.

"S-Spammy, I'm... s-so fffucking close...." He moans, his clawed hands nearly drawing blood as he relishes in the soft gagging and moans coming from Spamton. The small darkner doubles his efforts, bringing his hands back to Tenna's hard on, rapidly stroking the skin, feeling his own drool and Tenna's precum making the flesh slick. With a loud moan, Tenna's thighs suddenly tighten around Spamton's head, squeezing his face and making his cheeks press in. As the soft, plush sensation of Tenna's thighs washes over him, he very quickly realizes that he's gonna have to swallow. He can't pull away, and he has no idea what he's working with here. 

As Tenna cums into Spamton's mouth, he growls loudly, his hips bucking up, burying himself fully in Spamton's throat. Warm, slightly salty release fills Spamton's mouth, and he moans slightly as he swallows around Tenna's cock. The sheer volume makes some drip down out of his mouth and spurt out around Tenna's cock, only making it more slick. They moan in unison, and Spamton slowly pulls off, a string of drool connecting his lips and Tenna's cock for a moment. He pants softly, his tongue feeling a little tingly, like he just put a whole bag of pop rocks on it, or like he swallowed static. He shudders slightly, and looks up at Tenna, who gives him a grin. 

"Come on, Spammy, let's get you back to your room so I can repay your... services." 

Oh, shit. 

Spamton was gonna be sore for a while. 

Chapter Text

Tenna practically drags Spamton up to his apartment, the two of them pausing at intervals on the way to make out against a wall or have a giggling fit thanks to the insane amount of alcohol in their systems. By the time they make it there, Spamton is all covered in bite marks and hickeys, and Tenna is hard again. Spamton unlocks his door with trembling hands, and pushes it open, hardly even able to get inside before Tenna slams the door and nearly tackles him onto the couch. The CRT is shrunken down a bit to be more sizeable for Spamton's apartment, but he's having trouble keeping himself at that size. Their lips move together in tandem, tongues moving against the other as they frantically make out. Spamton slides his hands up Tenna's back, gripping the back of his shirt, panting and gasping in air at every break in their kisses. 

With a sharp inhale, Tenna begins to undo his shirt, his half-mechanical body looking nothing short of godly to the shorter darkner underneath him. Panting softly, Spamton begins to remove his own shirt, only pausing when his binder comes into sight. He hesitates for a moment, looking up at Tenna, met with an encouraging smile. Despite their intoxication, Tenna looks down at him with genuine concern, rubbing his cheek. "You only have to do what makes you comfortable." He murmurs, his words kind, albeit slurred. He leans down and kisses Spamton's neck softly, inhaling the younger darkner's scent. "If you want to keep it on, you can... this is all about what you want..." He whispers, his large hand tangling in Spamton's hair. The warmth that has been bubbling in the smaller host's tummy bubbles over, and with a breathy moan, he bucks his hips up, shuddering slightly. "M-Mmmghh... T-3ns [10]... 1 want it s00 bad..." He pants, his chest heaving beneath the restricting fabric of his binder. He looks up at Tenna with pleading eyes, his small hands resting on his chest. "W1ll y0u t-take it [[50% OFF SALE]] for me, A-Ant...?" He pleads, using Tenna's first name subconsciously. 

Gripping the back of the couch Tenna groans, and without warning, leans down, and bites Spamton's neck hard, moaning into the crook of his neck, his hips rutting against the smaller darkner's. "Fffuckkk..." He groans, his antennae going rigid. "When you ask like that, baby..." He murmurs, his hands coming up to remove Spamton's binder. With a bit of effort and awkward pulling, Tenna learns that binders are not exactly the best for frantic fucking. But more importantly, he finds out that Spamton's tits are the best thing since sliced bread. He bites and kisses all over Spamton's chest, until the smaller darkner is slick with his saliva and whining against Tenna, his hips rubbing on the CRT's thigh. "T3nnnss.... [[HALT, WHO GOES THERE?]] t-t3asing mee...." Spamton whines, his head lolled back against the pillow on his sofa. Tenna comes up from his chest, and grins, before leaning to capture Spamton's lips in a kiss nothing short of ravenous, his hands fisting in the other TV host's hair. "Don't worry, I'll let you have it~" He murmurs, before sucking another hickey onto Spamton's neck. 

Tenna rapidly pulls off his belt, the gold buckle already undone from their car escapade, the sharp leather snapping against itself in the dim lighting. He pulls off his pants, leaving him in his silk boxers, looking down at Spamton with a hungry grin. He pushes the smaller host against the couch, and begins to shamelessly rut against him, humping him desperately, groaning and panting against his neck. "Ohhh, Spammy... Y-you feel so good for me..." He moans, inhaling sharply, his head falling forward, as he grinds and rubs on the shorter darkner. "T-T-[[TOP TEN ALPHA MALE HACKS TO GET YOU WOMEN]] i-its... nghhhh!" Spamton studders, having trouble forming coherent thoughts, much less use his words to express them. As Tenna grinds their hips together, Spamton's tongue lolls out slightly, his eyes crossing. Tenna bucks his hips rougher, his hands digging into the sofa behind Spamton. "F-fuck... Spammy... baby... sweetheart... l-let me put it in, let me put it in please, j-just the tip, take it for me please, baby~" He rambles, his teeth gritted hard. 

As Spamton whimpers and grinds up against Tenna, he nods frantically, his hands already fumbling with his pants desperately. "0-oH [[GR34T H34aVeNS!]] p-pLEaSEE!" Spamton pleads, nearly ripping off his pants, only his boxers left around his hips. The CRT above him leans down, and presses another kiss to his torso, before hooking his fingers into his own boxers, slipping them down his padded thighs, gritting his teeth. Tenna's cock falls from his boxers, hard and twitching, hitting Spamton's lower torso with an obscene thwap sound that makes both of them shudder. Spamton looks down at the length pressing against his stomach with a soft whimper, and squeezes his eyes shut, practically already able to feel the delicious ache that it's going to leave him with. He pulls off his own boxers, swallowing thickly, subconsciously bracing for Tenna's reaction. He cracks open an eye, only to see Tenna staring down, entranced, his head tilted slightly like an interested dog. He leans down slightly, before glancing up at Spamton. "C-can I... t-taste it...?" He asks sheepishly, a pixelated blush appearing on his screen. 

Blinking, Spamton nods, biting his lip. It's been a while since he's been with anyone, and he isn't sure how this is going to feel. His train of thought is cut off by Tenna's tongue snaking into the wet heat of his cunt, licking the slick, sensitive skin, making Spamton arch his back and let out a keening cry. "[[TEN PERCENT OFF MY BODY!]] D-D00nT [[BLOCK ADS FOR FREE AND EASY!]] PL34SE D0n'T [[F-F#*%ING]] St0P!" He cries, his face going red as he realizes how easily he was brought to the point of pleading, but unable to help himself as Tenna's tongue plunges deeper, the CRT's nose pressing against his lower torso, ever so slightly rubbing his sensitive t-dick with each thrust of Tenna's tongue. Spamton's eyes roll back in his head, and his hands grip the couch, his mind hazy as the obscene shlick sounds fill the small room, Tenna's hands holding his thighs apart just right. He pants heavily, trying to keep the glitches from spilling from his lips, but failing miserably. "0-0hH A-4NT!" He cries, his hips bucking up over and over. "I-I-[[NEED THIS HOT DEAL!!]] S-so B4DD!~" He moans, shuddering as Tenna's tongue slides just right against his sensitive flesh. 

After what feels like hours, Tenna pulls away, leaving Spamton aching with emptiness. The CRT licks his lips, one hand coming up to wipe away the lewd amount of Spamton's slick that coats his mouth. He growls low in his throat, before grinding his cock against Spamton's dripping cunt, not yet pushing it in, but teasing it just right. The two moan in unison, and Spamton shudders, his eyes rolling back. "T-Tens!1!" He cries, his arms wrapping around Tenna's shoulders, his chest heaving as he gazes down at the CRT's dick. "P-PuT 1t [[INTO THE SPAMTONVERSE]] pLEaSEE!" He begs, his eyes tearing up with desperation, his hands gripping Tenna's back. With a low hum, Tenna grins, and grabs his cock with one hand, beginning to press it against Spamton's warm boycunt. "You're so pretty when you b-beg..." He purrs, his fans whirring louder now. Growling lowly, he presses his hips forward, his head falling back as his tip nudges its way into the smaller darkner's cunt, his teeth gritted hard as he tries to hold back from rutting forward roughly. 

"G-Gosh, y-you're s-so warm..." He groans, his chest rising and falling heavily. He rolls his hips gently, pushing deeper and deeper, careful not to overdo it too early. "I-is it alright, Spammy?" He pants, his hips rocking slowly. Spamton replies with a string of moans, nods, and little "mppphh!"'s, trembling against the couch, his eyes rolled back. Tenna finally bottoms out, his hands pressing into Spamton's thighs as he groans, the CRT's screen glitching slightly as he presses in fully. Spamton cries out, his back arching, his hands clenching "Y-Y3S! J-JusT L1k3 thaTT!  00HH!~" He moans, his eyes rolling back. Tenna growls, his self-control fracturing as Spamton whines and begs so needily. "Good boy..." He grumbles, his grip on the smaller darkner's thighs tightening as he begins to really thrust, his hips moving at a steady pace, his dick kissing the sweet spot inside Spamton repeatedly, making the younger host gasp and writhe. Every time Tenna's hips come flush against Spamton's, the two let out soft moans and gasps, their lips meeting in sloppy kisses, all tongue and teeth as the CRT thrusts.

 Tenna groans, his body shuddering with every thrust, as he continues his steady pace, unable to help himself from increasing the pace just slightly every so often. Spamton's eyes roll back, and his tongue lolls out slightly again, his body trembling. His eyes struggle to focus as he looks down at where they meet, the skin of his tummy stretched taught to accommodate the significantly large size inside of him. He watches, entranced, as Tenna's cock slides in and out of him, his tummy slightly distending from the sheer size of the CRT. He whines, feeling every single ridge of Tenna's cock inside him, drool pooling at the side of his mouth, his mind fried with pleasure and a dumb, cock-drunk feeling. He begins to move his own hips slightly, meeting Tenna's thrusts, his smaller body trembling even more now. Tenna suddenly moves his hands, no longer gripping Spamton's thighs, but his waist, helping his hips move in rhythm with his increasingly rough thrusts. "Oh, Spammy...~ You feel s-soooo goood~" He moans, hands tightening so his claws dig deliciously into the soft flesh of the smaller darkner's waist. 

"Y-Y3SS! P-Pleas3 T-Tens!" Spamton pleads, his eyes hazy and unfocused. "H-h4rDer, [[Better, Faster, Stronger!]] p-PLEas33~" He wails, drool now steadily dripping down the side of his mouth. Tenna grits his teeth, moaning lowly, unable to deny the pleading host beneath him what he so desperately wants. He grips Spamton's hips, and begins to snap his hips faster, rougher, his cock sliding in and out of Spamton's tight cunt deliciously. He moans loudly, antennae twisting together, his head twitching slightly. "Ohh, Spammy!" He cries out, spreading his legs wider to allow himself to slip in deeper. The younger host wails out, his legs tensing, eyes widening as he feels every delicious inch of Tenna inside of him. "[[C-CATHODE]] B-B3 Car3[[FILL ME UP]] PLeaS33~" He cries, unable to tell if he's begging for mercy or for more, a maddening mixture of pleasure and pain building between his thighs. With a loud cry, Tenna ruts deeper and deeper, self-control shattering on the spot as he loses himself in the perfection of Spamton. He feels himself growing, but he doesn't care, his dick swells inside Spamton, stretching him even further, making tears spring to the smaller darkner's eyes, rolling down his face in pain and pleasure. "O00HhhH!" He wails, his tail frantically whipping back and forth as the thick intrusion stretches him to his limit. Tenna is only able to stop himself when he feels Spamton pull away slightly due to the pain, stopping himself from growing, his teeth gritted. "S-sorry S-spammy, I.. I need... G-Ghhnnn!" He groans out, his hips bucking forward a final time before stilling, his cock twitching and pulsing inside Spamton as he finishes deep inside the smaller darkner. 

Spamton cries out, his eyes widening, his orgasm shuddering through him before he even realizes it's coming. The feeling of being so deliciously full of Tenna, the feeling of his warm, staticky cum filling him, is enough to make him arch his back, cumming over Tenna's dick as the two roll their hips gently. After a moment of heavy breathing and soft whines, Tenna slightly moves his hips, watching Spamton's tummy shift with the amount of his release. He slowly pulls out, moaning softly at the sensation, letting out a shuddering breath as he watches his cum ooze slowly from Spamton's cunt. Swallowing thickly, he strokes the younger darkner's hair, smiling softly. "A-are you okay, Spammy...?" He asks softly, beginning to gather Spamton in his arms. "H-Hn-hehe..." Spamton mumbles, his head falling against Tenna's chest. "S-s00.... g-good... t-th4nk [you], c-[cathode]..." He mumbles, dazed and dreamy from the roughness of their pairing. "Mhh... I l-love... T-TV..." He coos, his eyes glazed, giggling softly. Still, Tenna can't help but blush, picking him up and beginning to carry him to the bathroom. 

"S-Say that again...? Please?" 

Chapter Text

After carrying the giggling, fuck-drunk Spamton to the bathroom, Tenna has to shrink down slightly again to fit into the doorway. He sighs, and stretches out languidly, putting Spamton on the side of the tub, beginning to fill it with warm water. He's about to start adding soap, before he feels Spamton's hand against his back. “[[DON'T WAIT, BUY NOW!!]], Tens… I never use the [[BATH AND BODY WORKS]].” He murmurs, gazing up at Tenna. Tilting his head, the CRT pauses. “Huh? Why not?” He questions, turning off the main faucet. Spamton looks away for a moment, his cheeks turning a bit red, before he clears his throat, and sits up straighter. 

“It's, uhm… [2]... big for [[little old me?]]” Spamton explains, putting his head in his hands as his face turns even more red, embarrassed to have to get the words out. “The tub is [[HAND CRAFTED]] for… y'know… regular size dark^ners… not [[FUN SIZED!!]] [1]’s like me…” Tenna pauses for a moment, before giggling softly, and nodding, gently patting the smaller darkner's back. “That's okay, Spammy…” He soothes, smiling softly, biting back another laugh. Spamton looks away, rubbing his hands over his face. “You d0n't need [2] [[APPLY EVENLY TO SURFACE AREA]] it in, [CATHODE]!” He cries, crossing his arms. Laughing softly, Tenna turns off the faucet, and turns the knob to shower, watching the water spray down into the tub. 

The CRT ensures the water is warm enough for Spamton, before helping him in, holding the smaller darkner's hand with a big goofy smile on his face. Closing the glass door, he hums, reaching down to grab the soap from the lowest shelf, putting some on his hand. To Spamton's great dismay, he leans down and begins to rub the soap into the younger host's gel-slick hair, rubbing his scalp gently. Jumping back, nearly slipping, Spamton looks up at Tenna with confused, fake angry eyes. "What the [[#^&*]] are you d0ing, [[Trash Heap]]?!" He cries, covering his head with small hands. "I-I can [[complete the question in the required field]] myself!" He stammers, looking like an angry peacock. 

Tenna just giggles, and shakes his head, scooping the small darkner up into his arms, cradling him like a baby, despite Spamton's protests, and the small, puppet-jointed fingers slamming against his chest. He finishes rubbing the soap into Spamton's hair, humming peacefully until his co-host finally gives up fighting. As he washes out Spamton's hair, he smiles fondly, rubbing his fingers through the puppet's hairline. He ensures all of the soap out of the white hair, before taking the time to gently wash Spamton's body. As he does, he takes a moment to appreciate the smaller darkner, tracing fingers over plastic joints and caressing each dip and swell of Spamton's body. 

Sighing and gazing down lovingly, Tenna smiles, before he sees the unamused look on Spamton's face. He pauses for a moment, and his brow furrows. "What's wrong, Spammy?" He asks, tilting his head. Spamton replies with an annoyed roll of his eyes, and a grin he can't quite hide. "Your an[10]ae are [[twisty tie]], Ant." He grins, motioning up. Tenna's screen goes red with a pixelated blush, and he covers the plastic surface for a moment, causing Spamton to tumble to the tub floor, before chuckling nervously, and trying to smooth them back. "T-they do that when I'm... happy." The tall CRT admits, not making eye contact with Spamton, not that he could without eyes, anyways. 

After a short moment of silence, Spamton, standing up on the slick floor, speaks again, his voice a little softer this time. "It's [[CUTE CAT VIDEOS]], Tens." He says softly, intertwining a small, plastic hand with Tenna's. Slowly lowering his hands from his face, Tenna smiles sheepishly, tilting his head. "Y-You think so...?" He asks, which gets him a nod from Spamton, and a little grin that makes his heart flutter. Tenna smiles softly, and smooths out his antennae, and puts out his hands, this time offering Spamton to get back into his arms. After a moment, the smaller darkner crawls up, and lets Tenna cradle him to his chest again. "You make all of my wires feel all twisty, Spammy..." Tenna murmurs, leaning down to press a soft, gentle kiss to Spamton's cheek. One he pulls away, Spamton's looking up at him with a curious smile. "Do you have [[WIRES IN STOCK]] all over?" He questions, and Tenna blinks, before nodding. 

"Yeah, under here," He explains, motioning to the soft, silicone padding on his chest. "I've got a big box that has all the stuff that makes me work, kinda like how humans work." He clarifies with a big grin. Spamton pauses, before glancing back up at him. "So... do you [ev3n] really need to [[HUGE SHOWER SALE!!!]]? Or like... anything?" He asks, wiping some soap off of his cheek. Tenna hesitates, before chuckling, and shaking his head. "No, I don't really need to. But especially after... strenuous activity, I like to, it helps loosen up my joints." He says, smiling. "Think of it like a human body, but the muscle is all wire, I've got metal as skin, and this padding as... fat?" He tries to explain. Spamton nods slowly, seeming to understand. "Yeah, that makes [[cents]], I guess." He looks down, and smiles a little nervously. "Yeah, I'm... [[pretty woman]] much all plastic." He says, running a hand through his hair. Tenna nods, before leaning down, kissing him softly. "Yes, but you're my little doll, and I think it's cute. Plus, you felt pretty soft and pliable when I was fucking you." He grins, teasing the smaller darkner. 

Spamton's face goes bright red, and he squirms in Tenna's hold, kicking the CRT's arm playfully. "Oh, [[#^&*]] [[50% OFF!!]]" He cries, crossing his arms, a fake pout on his lips. After a short while, Tenna turns off the water, and dries the both of them off, before carrying Spamton to the bedroom once more. As they lay there in comfortable silence, Spamton finally rolls over, looking at Tenna. "Hey, [10]'s?" He asks gently, tapping the CRT gently. Looking over, Tenna tilts his head, looking at his co-host. "Yeah, Spammy?" He responds, a big grin on his face. After a moment of hesitation, Spamton finally speaks again. "You said y0u have wires... [[all knowing]] over...?" He asks slowly. Tenna goes silent, before nodding slowly, his smile getting a bit bigger. "Uh huh!" He replies, his hands fidgeting a bit. Spamton bites his lower lip nervously, before looking back up at the taller darkner. "Can I... [[sea]] them...?" He asks sheepishly, to which Tenna practically rips off the robe he had been wearing, nodding enthusiastically. "I thought you'd NEVER ask!" He chirps, motioning to his body. 

Rolling his eyes at the dramatic display, Spamton sits up on the bed, but smiles at Tenna's enthusiasm. "Alrighty, th3n..." He chuckles, looking up at the CRT as he gets back on the bed, sitting with crisscross legs. Tenna looks down at his torso, and undoes a latch on the left side of his stomach, opening up his torso cavity. Inside, is a whirring processor, and different colored wires in groups. He smiles up at Spamton softly, his screen pink with a blush. "I haven't organized them in a while, they might be a bit tangled- nghh!" He's cut off by Spamton's hand running over a blue wire. "W-Wait, you need to be careful, they're sensitiv- a-ah!~" He moans, cut off once again. Spamton crawls up onto his thigh, sitting on it as Tenna lays back on the bed, his processor whirring faster now, the fans on the sides of his head blowing harder. He puts both of his hands above his head, surrendering full access to the smaller darkner on his thigh, a blush on his screen. 

His entire body shudders as Spamton tugs slightly on the tangled wires, a moan escaping his lips, his back arching into the touch just a bit. "W-Woah MAMA, Spammy, y-you can really make a TV feel s-special! Ngh~" He shudders, his hands fisting in the sheets a little. Spamton grins, his hand closing around a small group of wires, tugging gently. "Some[[thymes]] you need to know how t0 [[play with the band]] with the right [[SILLY STRINGS]] to get where you [knead] to g0~" He teases, making Tenna whimper softly, one hand running through his antennae, his sharp teeth digging into his bottom lip. "Well, wherever you l-learned it, ah~ don't stop! Ohh!" He moans, hips bucking up against Spamton. The smaller darkner laughs, beginning to pull harder, twirling the wires around his fingers, yanking roughly, eliciting loud, whiny moans from Tenna. "O-ohh! It's so good, Spammy, don't stop!~" He cries, writhing on the bed. 

Doing as he's told, Spamton doesn't stop pulling Tenna's wires, shuddering slightly as a light electric shock jolts through him, making him shudder. "H-hnghh..." He whines, rubbing his hips slightly against Tenna's, pulling harder once more, receiving the same shock, gasping, his eyes rolling back slightly. Tenna's chest heaves, and he gazes at Spamton adoringly, his thigh shifting beneath the smaller darkner's thigh, as he encourages his co-host. "O-ooh spammy, don't stop! It feels so good, you're doing so well!" He praises, the vents on his head now blowing out a small bit of steam. "M-my processor is so hot! Ooh~" He moans, his hands coming to rest on Spamton's hips. "C-come on, one more tug, baby... please...?" He pleads, making Spamton's resolve shatter. With one last hard tug, grind, and shock, both of the darkners go rigid, moaning in unison, brought to release at the same moment, their hips rubbing together lovingly. 

It was going to be a long night.