Archive of Our Own ^beta

It started small— so subtle Spamton hardly noticed it. Over the span of weeks he found himself gravitating towards his partner as though reeled in by string, closer and closer each day.

They were no stranger to some flirtatious, intimate touches in their work day, but something was fundamentally different about the way Spamton felt compelled to let his hands linger. Scooting up especially close to Tenna on the couch while poring over scripts together, finding excuses to help adjust his partner’s suit and tie, leaning into his space to gossip between takes…

Most alarming, however, was how he’d started to crave it. His heart would swell whenever Tenna so much as rested a hand on his shoulder, sending his feathered tail wagging against his wishes. He lapped up any attention like a man starved, mind replaying every intimate moment on an endless loop as he lay in bed each night. 

It all felt so natural, so deeply innate, that his brain tuned out all the warning signs to let him sink deeper and deeper, all the while entirely unaware of the hole that’d opened up beneath his feet. 

It wasn’t until a certain…incident occurred that he finally snapped to reality, slapped awake from a spell he hadn’t realized he’d been under.

It began as a normal day on set, entirely uneventful and passing by in a series of familiar motions— a repeat take here, script adjustment there… so inane that Spamton kept himself closer than ever by Tenna’s side to help the time pass.

During a scene change as they were both enjoying each other’s company while overseeing the grips, whether by mechanical failure or user error, a heavy tungsten light fell from the stage truss. It was too fast, too sudden and unexpected for anyone to issue any sort of warning.

Perhaps by pure instinct, Tenna yanked Spamton into his arms, sweeping him off his feet and squeezing him to his chest just in time to pull him out of harm’s way, precious milliseconds from very serious injury. His partner curled around him, shielding him from debris with his body, snapped metal and bolts raining down on his sturdy frame.

Spamton clung to Tenna’s jacket and pressed himself as close as physically possible, letting out a very un-dignified yelp. He was overcome all at once with shock, relief and reverence, heart thumping so intensely he could feel it in his throat. 

It felt so right, being protected, surrendering his wellbeing to this darkner he trusted more than he’d ever trusted anyone; he nuzzled into it, melting at the feeling of a clawed hand cradling the back of his head and breathing out a quiet sigh. It wasn’t until he looked up to see Tenna’s screen, burning red and plastered with an expression of pure awe, that he realized what he’d done.

He never let Tenna pick him up, ever. It was a hard and fast rule established very early on, the mere idea demeaning and representative of the indignity he was fighting tooth and nail to be free of. That he was not only allowing himself to be held so close for so long, but also nestling into the embrace, was mortifying.

Spamton’s gaze locked with his partner’s for what felt like a beautiful, terrifying eternity, the entire set eerily silent around them.

Fuck, this is bad. This is so, so incredibly bad.

His feathers puffed up in alarm, starting at the base of his neck and spreading down the arc of his back, pulse rabbiting in his chest.

“…Put me down.” The demand came out exactly as pathetic as Spamton dreaded it would.

“Yes, of course, I’m sorry-!!” Tenna sputtered, bending down to let Spamton touch his feet to the ground and giving him a parting squeeze before letting go. “Are you okay?? I’m sorry, I just reacted— it happened so fast!”

Spamton swatted away Tenna’s hand when it moved to hold his cheek, horrified to be caught so indisposed under very literal spotlight. Before he could reply, the tense stillness was broken and the crew began to crowd around, voices overlapping and frantic.

“Are you both alright??” “Who the hell set up the rig this morning?!” “Should we postpone the shoot?” “Mr. Tenna, sir, is your screen okay? Did anything break?” “Do we need to get medical on scene??”

While Spamton stood frozen, shell-shocked and humiliated, Tenna stepped in to fend off the attention.

“Alright, everyone, settle down, please!” Tenna said, clapping his hands together to quiet the frenzied chatter, “Thankfully no one was hurt, but this could have easily gone far worse.” His voice dipped into the low, menacing timbre that could turn a room ice-cold. Though his hands were folded together and his smile wide, the tone was unmistakably venomous as he chuckled, “Now-! I’d like to know who was responsible for the overhead lighting today! Then we can all move on!”

The room went silent. Spamton knew he should speak up to defuse the unprofessional atmosphere, redirect Tenna’s ire as only he could, but his mind had been left utterly blank. His partner’s tail winding around his midsection made him jolt, all higher thinking cast aside in favor of the overwhelming urge to run. This amount of vulnerability felt intensely dangerous.

You need to get away from him. Now.

Without a word Spamton untangled himself from Tenna’s tail and hurried offstage, the crowd parting to let him through. He barely managed to curb his instinct to break into a sprint as the weight of their combined gaze made his feathers bristle and cheeks burn hot.

He heard Tenna call his name somewhere in the distance, but he refused to look back, rushing into his dressing room and slamming the door behind him. 

Knowing that his partner had a habit of entering uninvited, he turned the lock before flopping onto his couch, desperately yanking off his blazer and loosening his tie so he could undo the first few buttons of his shirt.

Something had suddenly jolted awake within him, something familiar but thus far ignored, and it showed no signs of slowing; it was racing through his veins, setting nerves alight, flooding every inch of his body with heat. It was too much, terrifying, so deep he feared he would drown—

“Spam??” Tenna called from outside his door before, predictably, trying to turn the knob, jiggling it forcefully. “Spam, are you okay?? You can come out now— we’re pausing production until everything is fixed up.”

“I’m fine,” Spamton croaked, having to clear his throat before repeating, “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me, just head back to set-“

“I’m sorry I grabbed you…Are you mad at me?” Tenna’s voice sounded closer, as though he had his face pressed to the door, “I didn’t have time to think about it; everything happened so fast. I didn’t mean- …you know I’d normally never-“

“It’s okay, Tens. I get it. Just…let a guy take a breather for once, will ya?” Spamton groaned, silently praying that Tenna would take the hint. Just hearing the man’s voice, so full of concern, so doting, felt electric.

“It’s all taken care of, there’s nothing to worry about. I got rid of the grips who were overseeing the rig.”

Spamton pinched the bridge of his nose, still just aware enough to be annoyed at the promise of having to deal with the inevitable blowback of Tenna’s impulsiveness. “Goddamnit— in front of everyone?! You can’t keep doing this shit, it’s unprofessional, making the whole crew sit through your power trips.”

“This was different. You could have seriously gotten hurt.” The lowering of Tenna’s voice to a growl made Spamton shiver down to his toes. “Would you just let me in, please?”

The faintest smell of butterscotch and whiskey was wafting in from the other side of the door, picked up even at a distance by Spamton’s overly heightened senses. The mere hint Tenna’s scent was intoxicating, making him throb in his pants.

For fucks sake, how is it happening so fast—

“No, Tens. Leave me alone,” Spamton wheezed, rapidly losing the ability to keep up a cogent argument.

“Spam…”

“Go away.“ The plea came out more desperate than intended, and the long stretch of silence that followed made him fearful that it had only encouraged Tenna to stay.

“…Okay.” Tenna whispered, and though his voice sounded crushed, Spamton was overcome with relief to hear his footsteps begin to trail away.

Just as soon as Tenna had left, however, Spamton’s instincts wanted him back, relief replaced so instantly by longing that it had him reeling. The rapid shifting of emotions made him achingly nauseous.

Biting his lip, he brought a shaky hand up to look at his watch, vainly hoping that the day was almost over. Nothing sounded more appealing at that moment than the promise of returning to the safety of his bed where he could gather all of his blankets, cocoon himself in pillows, and jerk off until his wrist ached.

It was 2:45pm…he’d be stuck for at least another few hours— and Tenna would likely stay overtime. If it was already this bad, Spamton couldn’t imagine the state he’d be in by the time everyone else had left.

Get out of the studio, it’s now or never.

Waiting until Tenna’s footsteps had entirely disappeared, Spamton snatched his keys from his desk and unlocked the door with trembling hands, peering outside his door to ensure he was alone. 

The coast clear, he all but ran down the hallway to the back door, escaping into the open air. The bright red silhouette of his car awaited him in the parking lot, promising sweet freedom, privacy.

He drove faster than he ever had in his life.

The second he set foot back in his apartment and locked the door he began to undress, gasping, overheating, desperate to feel air on his bare skin. He left a trail of clothing to his bedroom, jumping up onto the mattress and pressing a finger into himself, hissing at the stretch.

He was already so wet, dripping on the sheets, the barest brush of his palm against his clit making him throw his head back and moan.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” he growled under his breath, sliding another finger in beside the first when just one proved unsatisfying. He bucked against his hand, pulling at his hair, imagining much larger hands manhandling his body as though he weighed nothing.

Frantic, he crawled across the bed to pull his dildo from the nightstand drawer, frotting against it to spread slick along its length. The feeling of silicone dragging across his oversensitive clit nearly made him scream.

Before long he was thrusting into himself in every position his body could manage, face down into the pillows, knees by his shoulders, lying on his side…it felt amazing, just as he remembered, but it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

Even knowing it’d bring him no closer to cumming, Spamton couldn’t stop, high on the feeling of being filled. He was flying on endorphins, dizzy and breathless, but so far from fully satisfied that it made him sob.

You know there’s only one way to make it stop. He thought miserably, watery eyes drifting to his nightstand where a phone sat on the hook, tantalizingly close. Ripping himself from the brief lapse in judgement, he pounded a fist against his pillow and grit his teeth. 

No, goddamnit. This is all his fucking fault. Grabbing me like that, in front of everyone… They all saw-

His heart pounded as his mind replayed the events scene-by-scene, shivers wracking his body at the memory of huge arms around him, broad shoulders, strong hands…hands that could squeeze his thighs, pry them apart, hold them still while he’s eaten out until he’s screaming-

Arm burning from the exertion, Spamton let the dildo slip from his fingers, curling in on himself with a pathetic, miserable whine, pulling his knees to his chest.

I’m so fucked.

—

As Tenna approached Spamton’s apartment door he wrung his hands together with worry, fidgeting anxiously. It’d been a couple days since he’d heard from his partner, even after several calls; it was out of character for Spamton to miss even one work day, so that he’d been gone for so long without a word could only mean trouble.

He had no idea that Spamton was so shaken by the on-set incident…the thought of him feeling so unsafe, enough so to flee, made him sick.

He rapped his knuckles against the door gently, then harder when he was met with no answer.

“Spam? Spam?? I know you’re home…I saw your car in the parking lot.” Tenna leaned in close to the door, listening for any sign of movement. After several long moments he heard the faint sound of footsteps approaching, as well as Spamton’s breathing, labored and shallow as though overexerted.

“You need to leave.” Even as Spamton hissed the words, Tenna could hear a naked desperation behind them, unlike anything he’d ever heard from his partner before.

”I can’t leave until I know what’s going on.” Tenna murmured, trying the knob and peering in through the peephole. “Come on, Spammy, please. I’m really worried!”

“God, Ant, I’m begging you to go, okay?” Spamton’s voice wavered in a way that made Tenna’s chest throb, “I promise you I’m okay, I just came down with something. I’ll be back at work soon, alright?”

Thoroughly unsatisfied with Spamton’s answer, Tenna scoffed. “Why didn’t you call me then, or answer when I called??” When he couldn’t get a good view from the peep hole, he grew more frantic, having heard Spamton’s breathing pick up from behind the door. “You need help, don’t you? You sound awful…”

“Goddammnit. If I show you I’m fine will you leave already?”

Though the jury was still out in Tenna’s mind on whether he would be pushing his way inside regardless, he whispered in the affirmative, fraught with worry.

“Okay. Just…back up from the door. Stop standing so close.”

Tenna obeyed and backed up a couple steps, waiting with bated breath for Spamton to follow through. His heart jumped at every click of the several locks, before finally the door creaked open, though by just a crack.

“See? I’m alive and kicking, still got all my limbs attached and everything,” Spamton spat through the gap in the door, the animosity in his tone not quite reaching his eyes, “You happy now, nosy bastard? Can you go back to doing your job without throwing a fit?”

Taking a step closer to try and get a better look, he saw his partner’s face and neck glowing beet red, drenched in sweat with chest heaving, feathers puffed in what he assumed was distress.

Under the scrutiny Tenna saw Spamton’s expression flit towards panic, predicting his attempt to slam the door just in time to wedge his shoe into the gap.

“You’re really sick,” Tenna whispered, pulling the door open further and frowning at the way Spamton cowered back, uncharacteristically flustered.

“Get out of my doorway, Tenna. I’ll kick the shit out of you, I mean it,” Spamton hissed, though the threat held no bite, trailing off into more of a whine.

Tenna reached out a hand, slowly, to press the back of his hand to Spamton’s forehead, but the moment his glove brushed through Spamton’s hair he felt a sweaty hand grab a fistful of his shirt, yanking him inside the apartment. He fell to his hands and knees, managing to catch himself before knocking his partner over, looking up at him in numb shock. “Whuh-?? Spam, what-“

“You fucking asshole,” Spamton interrupted with a growl, wrapping Tenna’s tie around his fist and pulling it tight to guide his head upwards. Their lips met in a clash of teeth and tongue, Spamton’s breathing hot and raspy.

Stunned by the sudden turn of events but certainly not disappointed, Tenna returned the kiss with a low moan, dwarfing his partner’s mouth with his own. His little mailman’s lips were so soft, his tongue so small and pushing against him in adorable desperation— It was incredible, perfect, everything he’d dreamed of and more-

All too soon it was ripped away and Tenna was left reeling, lightheaded, when Spamton let him go to pull away and wipe his mouth.

“Shut the door,” Spamton ordered, still gasping for breath. 

Tenna stretched his leg behind him to close the door with his foot.

“So…” Tenna began, pushing himself up to sit back on his heels, “You’re not sick, then?”

“No I’m not fucking sick, idiot. Goddamnit, this is your fault. This is all your fault.” Even as he sounded furious, Spamton still crawled into Tenna’s lap and clung to him, capturing his lips in another heated kiss.

Tenna grabbed onto Spamton’s sides, sliding a hand from his hip to stroke up his back. He froze when the light caress made Spamton whine loudly and shiver, tensing up in his arms. “What’s happening to you?“ Tenna whispered, petting over his partner’s back to drag the sweet sound from his throat again.

“It wasn’t supposed to happen. Not ever again,” Spamton mumbled, frantic, burying his face into Tenna’s chest and huffing, “I don’t know why you…No, of course it had to be you. …Couldn’t keep your goddamn hands to yourself-“

“Hey, that’s not fair; you’ve touched me plenty!!” Tenna pouted, gasping when he felt a warm tongue trail up the side of his neck. “But I still don’t understand—Is this a normal thing for you…? Should we stop?”

“No.” Spamton whimpered, “Please don’t leave. I need you here.” His voice started to warble into hitching sobs, “I’m in hell, I can’t make it stop-”

Tenna quickly cradled the back of Spamton’s head and stroked through his hair to quiet him, whispering gentle reassurances. “I won’t go, I want to help. Just tell me what you need me to do.”

“Lay down on the ground,” Spamton answered immediately, pushing both hands against Tenna’s chest to try and coax him to lie back.

Unsure where the command was headed but now equally desperate, Tenna nodded and leaned back obediently, dick twitching under the tightness of his pants as Spamton brushed past it to straddle his chest.

“Open your mouth and stick out your tongue.” Spamton tugged his boxers down to his knees and kicked them away, the fabric already soaked through and glistening.

Tenna followed the order eagerly, heart pounding as he stuck his tongue out as far as he could, reaching up to take hold of Spamton’s hips and resisting the urge to dig in with his claws. Saliva pooled on his tongue as he watched Spamton spread himself apart above him, clit swollen, slit pink and dripping. He whined, unable to think of anything he’d ever wanted as badly as he wanted Spamton’s thighs squeezing around his head right now.

Without further preamble, Spamton lowered his hips, pressing himself against Tenna’s mouth with a long, high moan. He rocked against his tongue, hands gripping the edge of Tenna’s screen for leverage. “Ohhh god, oh fuck…”

His partner’s taste was so indescribably good; Tenna instantly craved more, needed it, would have begged for Spamton to use his mouth harder if he’d had the ability to speak.

“I-inside, put it inside, please-“

Tenna didn’t hesitate— he pressed his tongue forward, parting Spamton’s folds and pushing inside his hole. It opened easily around him, velvety soft and burning hot. Though Tenna’s cock jealously ached for attention, he ignored it, singlemindedly focused on his current purpose.

Spamton rode his screen in an unsteady rhythm, wailing every time Tenna flattened his tongue to swipe over his clit.

“Shit, that’s good…that’s so good, Tens…”

Whining, Tenna squeezed Spamton’s sides, feeling the man’s feathered tail fluttering against his hands when he forced his hips to thrust faster. His partner’s thighs trembled and his toes curled, head thrown back as he keened.

“Oh god, oh god…I’m…Tenna, I-!!”

Tenna felt Spamton spasming around his tongue, felt his heartbeat rabbiting in his chest when he slipped a hand underneath his shirt to feel. He needed Spamton to cum, needed to feel it, taste it, have the sounds he made burned into his mind forever— 

But, although he sounded close, so close, close enough to have him bucking his hips into Tenna’s mouth and screaming his throat raw, Tenna hadn’t felt him crest that peak, could still feel the tense rolling of his stomach as he chased his release.

“It’s not enough. It’s not enough…” Spamton groaned, and Tenna could hear his voice stuttering with tears, even beginning to sniffle.

Horrified that he’d done something wrong, Tenna pulled Spamton to his chest, stroking over his face and wiping the tears from his flushed cheeks. “Spammy, what is it?? I’m sorry, am I not-“

“I need more, I need you to…” Spamton leaned into Tenna’s palm, gritting his teeth and whimpering, “Bring me to bed, hurry, I can’t take it.”

Tenna nodded, entirely speechless, stumbling to his feet with Spamton wrapped in his arms. As Spamton clung to him, hiccuping and sobbing, Tenna felt his cock throb, straining under the confines of his belt. His little mailman had never been this vulnerable, never so much as shed a tear in front of him, and normally hated being held this tight…

He knew it was shameful, that he should feel disgusted with himself for even thinking it, but it didn’t stop the realization from sending a shiver down to his tail as it echoed in his mind:

I wish I could have him like this forever.

By the time they’d burst past the bedroom doors Spamton was practically in hysterics, grabbing Tenna’s collar to drag him down with him when Tenna laid him onto the sheets.

“Take this shit off,” Spamton growled, groping for Tenna’s belt, handling him so roughly it made him gasp.

“Okay, okay-!!” Tenna obliged with shaking hands, kicking off his pants and underwear and letting out a deep, relieved sigh at the ease of pressure. “Oh fff..fuck, Spam, I…” Now that he was free and could see Spamton laid out underneath him, he could barely contain his need, claws ripping into the blankets. He lowered his hips until his cock slid against his partner’s folds, both of them moaning loudly at the hot friction.

They both stared down at where Tenna’s dick rested on Spamton’s belly, their size difference setting off a little alarm of concern in Tenna’s mind even through the desperation.

“Is…are you sure I’m even going to be able to…?” Tenna began, cut off abruptly by Spamton yanking him down by his tie into a sloppy kiss.

“Shut up and put it in,” Spamton begged whenever their lips parted enough for him to gasp for air, “Need it, need it, need it.”

Shaking in an effort to make himself go slowly, Tenna guided himself to Spamton’s hole with one hand, biting his lip hard at the feeling of just his tip slipping inside. It was already so good, walls squeezing so tight around him…he had to stop himself, muscles wound taut as he fought the urge to cum right then. “Oh god…Spam, you feel so-”

Spamton’s legs kicked underneath him as he wailed, clawing at Tenna’s back, tears rolling down his cheeks. “Don’t stop, please, please!!”

After a deep breath, Tenna let himself push forward, achingly slow, waiting for any sign of discomfort. When Spamton only moved to pull him in further, Tenna swallowed hard, vision blurring at the mind-melting heat that was engulfing him inch by inch. “I…I have to go slow or I’m gonna…”

“Don’t you dare. I need this, need you-“ Spamton shrieked when Tenna bottomed out inside of him with a sudden jerk of his hips, eyes glazing over with soft, all-consuming submission. “Tennaaaa…”

He’s perfect. He’s so perfect. He needs me.

The desire to serve, to possess, drew Tenna under, violent as a surging wave.

“Say my name again, Spammy, please-“ Tenna thrust in and out, desperate to press himself deeper even when fully inside. He stroked a hand over Spamton’s fuzzy stomach, going lightheaded at the faint bump he could feel under his palm whenever he rocked his hips.

Fuck, fuck, I can feel myself inside-

Heat poured from his vents as Tenna repositioned to grab the back of Spamton’s thighs, folding his body until his knees were at his shoulders.

“Oh fuck, Tenna-!!” Spamton’s legs kicked reflexively, reaching up to grasp at his partner’s antennae. “Tens, Tens, don’t stop…”

Tenna didn’t want to; he was praying, begging, for this moment to stretch on forever, but the feeling of his antennae being pulled, of his perfect little mailman moaning his name…

“M’sorry…sorry, it feels too good, I’m—!!”

Spamton wrapped his legs as far as he could around Tenna’s middle, holding him in place as he came inside. “Yes, oh god, please…”

For a brief, heart-stopping moment Tenna’s screen blinked out, sturdy frame trembling and mind going blank with pleasure. He felt Spamton repeatedly clench around him, moaning as he writhed.

Though oversensitive and breathless, Tenna kept moving, screen burning red at the wet sounds of his thrusts. “Please cum for me. Please, Spammy, I want you to feel good…”

When Spamton threw his head back against the mattress, sobbing through his orgasm, Tenna swooped down to catch his lips in a possessive, open-mouthed kiss. 

Tenna melted into the feeling as Spamton relaxed beneath him, muscles finally going lax and heartbeat steadily slowing.

“Spam…?” Tenna whispered, fearful that whatever had gotten Spamton to this state was beginning to wane. “Do you, uh…feel better now?”

“Shut up,” Spamton wheezed, though it came out in a breathless chuckle, “…Yeah, I feel better. Not that it’ll last very long.”

“What was that??”

“It happens to darkners like me every once and a while. Or, it’s supposed to, but for me it’d been so long that I figured-“ He trailed off, shuffling so that Tenna’s cock slipped out of him, the feeling of warm cum soaking both of their thighs making them groan. “God. Well, like I said before, it’s your fault.”

The words raced through Tenna’s circuits like an electric surge; that he’d been the cause of this fervor, making Spamton so desperate that he was rendered delirious, entirely helpless and placid under his touch…

“How long does this usually last?” Tenna asked after clearing his throat, trying to sound less eager than he felt.

“Quit looking at me like that,” Spamton mumbled, smacking Tenna on the shoulder, “It’s only for a few days. …Are you fucking pouting??”

Apparently, Tenna was, not having realized until his partner brought it to his attention. “It’s just…what if you’d told me sooner?” he sputtered, screen pink, “I could have been here to help you this whole time...”

Spamton rolled his eyes, starting to crawl away to lay on his pillow. “So selfless…really warms my heart,” he muttered, flipping over to face the wall. “Well, we both got what we wanted. I’m exhausted, so if you’re gonna leave, then-“

Tenna reached out to scoop Spamton into his arms from behind, curling around him and squeezing him close to his chest. “Please let me stay,” he whispered, kissing the top of his head over and over as he begged, “I don’t want you to be alone.”

He felt Spamton’s chest tremble under his hands and heard a cry catch in his throat when he replied, barely audible, “Okay.”

Overwhelmed and giddy with relief, Tenna pulled the blankets over them both, humming contentedly when Spamton pressed back into the embrace. “So. When you wake up, is this going to happen again?” he asked hopefully. 

“You could at least try to sound less excited, fucking hell…Yes, it’s gonna happen again. Probably a few more times,” Spamton mumbled, his feathery tail betraying his own eagerness with its frantic wagging. “Which means I’d really love to get some sleep. So power off that screen and shut your mouth.”

Tenna nodded, unable to stifle a delighted giggle as he cradled his mailman in his arms, the feeling of his pulse against his fingers causing his screen to steadily dim the more tired he became. Finally, his screen went dark with a quiet click, leaving the pair enveloped in warm, blissful stillness.