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"I'm going to wring that little mailman's neck the moment I find him!" Footsteps thundered through the halls of the TV studio. In this moment, Mr. Ant Tenna didn't care who saw his wrath; he was livid. He grumbled threats of proposed violence as he strode across the tile floors with purpose.
"Been here six months and thinks he runs the place, thinks he can get away with anything. And now, on the biggest day of sponsorships for the year, which is supposed to be his whole thing, he can't be bothered to show up."
Tenna leaving the set had caused further disarray, but he had no choice. Everyone else sent to retrieve Spamton had been turned away from the locked door to his dressing room. With both of them gone, the studio staff was scrambling to cover with reruns. The mechanical man's fury flared when he thought about the low ratings they’d get for the day and the upcoming tough conversations with the sponsors.
He would tear Spamton limb from limb if they lost even one because of this.
I let him get away with too much. Give him an inch and he'll take a mile. I guess I give him much more than one inch too— Tenna forced that impulsive thought out of his processors abruptly, blushing. Their entanglement was objectively a mistake by professional standards. Yet, Tenna hadn't been able to help himself, and Spamton had been all too eager to oblige.
Damn that mailman. Damn his charming smile and cute ass.
Tenna arrived at Spamton's door and pounded on it. "Spam, you better have a darn good reason for not being on set!" He leaned in to listen for a response. Was that... groaning?
"G-go away!" Spamton's voice was shaky as he replied. "I mean—they need you on set, Tens!"
"You are supposed to be on set!" Tenna roared. "Get out here now!"
"I—hng—I'll be there [before you know it!], Tenna, I promise. Just... feeling a little [under the weather] but I think it's almost out of my system."
Sick? He hadn't told anyone else he was feeling ill. Tenna's wrath was tempered by this thought; he didn't want his cohost to be sick.
As Tenna was debating what to do next, he heard a strangled cry, followed by a series of pained sounds. Spamton is worse off than he let on, he thought. We can talk consequences later. What is going on in there?
Tenna looked down the hall to make sure no one else was around. He tested the door handle, confirming it was locked, and slowly huffed some extra air through his vents to cool himself. Centered, he extended a claw. He debated turning back; after all, he had always handled the promos himself before. Did he want to get involved with whatever was happening behind this door? Was it worth his extended absence?
Teeth gritted, Tenna glanced around once more and swiped his claw between the door and frame, forcing the latch to open and bypass the lock. He swiftly, but quietly, closed the door behind himself and turned to face Spamton, ready to lecture him on the importance of taking care of his health, especially at critical times such as these.
The words died on his lips. Nothing could have prepared him for the scene before his sensors. Clothes were strewn about, some torn, some stained. Blue ovals, the Addison eggs Spamton had told him were called ‘pipis’, were stacked in several nooks around Spamton’s dressing room. Covered in a viscous fluid, also blue, their number was too plentiful for Tenna to even guess how many there were.
In the center of it all, a pained grimace pulled across his face, was Spamton, his back to the door. Eyes squeezed shut, he was standing on his stool, leaning over his vanity—
—giving Tenna full view of him desperately trying to navigate his tentacle-like cock into his own cloaca, blue moisture drenching both organs and Spamton’s legs. Now that he was on the other side of the door, Tenna could hear Spamton’s soft whimpering as he somewhat succeeded, though he did not get an impression it came from pleasure, but rather from frustration and need.
Tenna forced himself to look away from Spamton’s engorged member and look back towards the mirror. Focusing more, he realized that rivers of tears drenched the cheeks of his lover, and as the tentacle slipped from its intended location, a choked sob forced itself from Spamton, who slumped over the vanity.
“S-Spammy?” Tenna inquired softly. Something was very, very wrong. Spamton had laid pipis before but had never mentioned anything like this. To see him crying helplessly, trying to pleasure himself in a rather unorthodox way, among stacks of pipis almost as tall as Spamton himself… The last remaining tendrils of Tenna’s rage melted away. Spamton needed… something.
The white Addison in question all but tumbled off of his chair at the sound of Tenna’s voice. “GET OUT!” he screeched, eyes now wide and filled with unbridled fear—eyes that were rarely seen on a normal day, usually squinting above his shining salesman smile. Seeing them like this gave Tenna a sinking, unsettled feeling. “No no no NO NO NO NO NO!” Spamton whipped his head around as if seeing the condition of the room for the first time. “How did you even get in here?! [EVERYTHING MUST GO]!”
Tenna stayed rooted on the spot, refusing to leave Spamton in this condition. “I let myself in. I made sure no one was around to see through the doorway—“
“You’re still here though and this is a private matter!” Spamton scrambled down from the stool, rage radiating off of him. He winced and cried out in pain as he got to the floor. He turned away briefly to recover himself, not wanting Tenna to see his weakness. Considering their height difference, he wasn’t hiding much, least of all his bloated belly.
Ruffled feathers puffed out from Spamton’s body as he marched over to Tenna. The CRT had shown nature documentaries before and thought this might be an Addison instinct to look larger, more intimidating. Unfortunately for Spamton, Tenna was only amused by how fluffy he looked, wanting to pick him up to feel that soft down.
“You’ve got [One More Chance!], Cathode. Don’t [make a deal] me do something drastic!” Spamton stopped at Tenna’s feet, glaring up at the latter. Between the out-of-place feathers, the writhing tentacle whipping around, and the blue-soaked limbs, he was hardly intimidating, yet Tenna felt the air crackling with something much more volatile than Spamton’s threat.
The two stared at each other, Spamton’s chest heaving, his face flushed and pained, and Tenna speedily analyzing how to diffuse the situation without abandoning Spamton. Kneeling down, he gingerly swiped the back of his finger across Spamton’s cheek, clearing a tear that had just fallen. Spamton growled and flinched away.
“You asshole! The [world wide web] revolves around you, right, and you can fix anythiiiIIIIINGAAAAAAAAH!” Spamton wrapped his arms around his abdomen and dug his fingers into his sides. Concern radiated from Tenna’s screen as he hovered his hands around Spamton’s shoulders, ready to help support him if needed. The Addison suddenly stood upright, gasping through cramps and distress, and shoved one of Tenna’s hands out of his way. The TV host marveled at the force from the smaller man and watched him stumble over to the closest pile of pipis.
Tenna covered his mouth with a gloved hand as he witnessed Spamton struggle to lay yet another clutch of pipis. He wanted to afford privacy, yet he couldn’t look away, nor would he be able to block out the grunts and whimpering. Normally this did not seem like a difficult process, but after so many… surely Spamton’s body was sore and exhausted. No wonder he was so agonized.
The last pipis was deposited amongst the rest. Spamton took a shaky, deep breath and swiped at his eyes. “… Ant? Are you still here?” he asked breathlessly.
“I’m here, Spammy. Are—”
“You need to be on the set. They need you out there.”
“You look like you need me more. What is going on? What is all this?” Tenna spoke at a low volume, staying calm, but making it clear that he would not be leaving until he had answers.
Spamton looked over his shoulder, not quite making eye contact. “It’s Black Friday, Tens,” he replied weakly.
“I know how important this day is for the studio, you don’t have to—“
“No, no. No, that’s not what I’m talking about. It’s why this is happening. Black Friday… is the peak of my brooding cycle. The abundance of [deals!], ads, sales… I’m the type of Addison that broods heavily during the gift-giving season. Black Friday is the most intense day.” Spamton sighed, giving up on removing Tenna from the room, since what had just occurred hadn’t scared him away already. And maybe it wasn’t so bad, having someone else there…
“If you knew, why didn’t you tell me? I already knew about pipis. We could have recorded more commercials, gotten you into a more comfortable space. All we needed was to plan ahead.”
“I was nervous, okay? How do I explain what can happennnnnn—AUGH!” Two more pipis were nestled in amongst the pile Spamton was still near.
Tenna moved to sit behind Spamton, who felt the former’s hand gently grasp his shoulder to help steady him. The warmth and subtle whir given off by the machinery was comforting. Spamton focused on those sensations, breathing deeply.
“I’m asking too many questions. Right now, how do I help you, Spam? I’ve never seen you so ragged.”
Spamton whirled around, his eyes wide and expression crazed.
"You want to help? I need you to fuck me!" Spamton climbed up Tenna's torso, grabbing the lapels of his jacket in clenched fists. Spamton's tentacle smeared blue fluids across Tenna's shirt as he leaned close, but Tenna was too stunned to notice.
"And when I say 'fuck me', I mean it. RAW. CARNAL. FUCKING!" Spamton slammed the lapels in his hands with each word. "This won't stop until I'm [satisfy your cravings]!"
Tenna processed the wild look in Spamton's eyes, his heaving chest, his belly swelling with another clutch of pipis already on the way. Spamton's words were blunt, but under that, Tenna felt him begging.
He briefly considered forcing the other to beg out loud, but now didn't seem like a good time.
"Alright," Tenna said calmly. He stood, Spamton stepping away as he did. Tenna towered over him while he removed his stained jacket, tie, gloves, and shirt. Spamton waited, breathing hard through the cramping, unsure of what to make of Tenna's reaction. This had to be too much to deal with. If he was going to be tossed out, at least he'd get one more glorious session with his CRT.
He hadn't been with the studio long. It was such an incredible opportunity, rocketing him to the big time. And Anthony... Spamton's gaze fell as he briefly pictured his life without Tenna, but his mind went blank as soon as he saw the generous bulge in Tenna's slacks, so stiff it threatened to tear the fabric, despite the pants being made to handle Tenna's size changes.
Spamton decided he was over-thinking.
A large hand swiftly cupping the back of his head disrupted any further thoughts.
"You need me to fuck you, and you need it hard," Tenna growled low, leaning down close to Spamton's face. Spamton could only nod, whimpering with need, his thighs freshly coated in wetness. "Spammy. What is our safe word?"
Spamton stared, caught off guard. It didn't feel like there was time for those kinds of—
"Hey. Answer me. If I'm going to go hard, I need to know if I should back off or if I'm hurting you, especially in your current condition. You will use our safe word if anything feels wrong. What is our safe word?"
"Cut," Spamton squeaked. His stomach tingled with thrill and molten desire; his breathing had already turned to panting, and Tenna hadn't even done anything yet.
"Good job, Spam," Tenna murmured, fingers still woven into Spamton's dark hair while his other hand released his belt buckle. "Now... Let's get you sorted out."
Fingers flew through feathers and fur. Tenna relinquished the tenuous grip on his self-control, craving every inch of Spamton. Deep down, he had been perfervid upon seeing Spamton’s naked and aroused body, his base programming screaming to grab the other and sink into him. It had been clear that something was amiss, though, and it would have been incredibly wrong to act on that, but now that he had permission…
Spamton was almost overtaken by the feeling of Tenna’s hands exploring him, stimulated to the brink. It was euphoric; he felt like he could fly—and for a moment, he did, as Tenna swiftly lifted him onto the couch.
The furniture was on the small side for Tenna to comfortably sit on. Instead, he knelt next to the couch, worshipping Spamton's body on an altar to their passion. Lips met in messy kisses, hands explored soft down and hard steel. Tenna’s unzipped pants slid down his thighs, belt buckle clink-ing. Maroon boxer briefs hugged his body above the sagging waistband, concealing nothing, least of all his swishing wire tail.
“Spam…” Tenna muttered reverently as he kissed the down on the other’s chest. The faint smell of honeysuckle floated from between the feathers, tantalizing him. Everything about Spamton was just so… perfect. He wanted—needed—all of the Addison, everything he could give, everything he could receive, all that and more, the scents, the sounds, the—
Spamton moaned deeply as Tenna’s teeth gripped his shoulder, caught off guard by the pressure and light points of pain. He quickly closed his mouth to stifle the sound; anyone in the hall would hear. He couldn’t stop his whimpering, though, nor the loud gasp as Tenna’s hand brushed his searching tentacle. It wove through the bare fingers, seeking pleasure among the silicone and metal joints, forcing Spamton to pant in ragged breaths. These gave way to another loud moan, despite his efforts, as Tenna’s finger brushed his opening.
“T-Te—Please, I need—“ Spamton moaned again, interrupting himself as his hips bucked against Tenna’s hand.
The CRT’s screen darkened, leaving only a wicked grin. “I think I have a good idea of what you need, Spammy. Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you.” He uttered a quiet moan himself, enraptured by how easily his finger slid inside the slit. Movement caught the attention of his sensors as Spamton’s hands flew up to cover his mouth, eyes rolling back. Tenna basked in amusement; he had altered the layout of TV World to prevent any interruptions or evidence of their activity. There was no need to let Spamton know yet, though. His reactions were too cute…
Spamton felt the finger curl gently inside him. “Mmmph~,” he moaned through his fingers. It felt heavenly, grazing all of the right spots and stretching him. Tenna began moving his hand, slowly at first, then with more rhythm, adjusting Spamton’s body to the size. The tentacle wrapped itself around Tenna’s thumb loosely, enjoying the movement. “Ahhhhhhhh~!” Spamton couldn’t help himself as his hands flew from his mouth to grip the couch cushions.
Tenna gave a few more pumps before pulling his finger out with a squelch. Spamton gasped and eyed Tenna’s hand covered in his juices. “I’ll get back to you quickly.” Tenna smiled slyly. “I just feel overdressed…”
Tenna’s hands moved to the waistband of his briefs, but he paused as a smaller hand was placed on his. Spamton rolled himself across the couch to hook his own hands into the elastic, stretching it slowly, admiringly, to expose the robot’s generous member. Tenna watched, curious, as Spamton pushed the shorts down and grasped the large steel cock.
The CRT’s head was thrown back and a staticky moan reverberated across the room. Spamton’s tongue explored the metal rod, lapping up the bead of black appearing at the tip, taking the head into his mouth. Tenna gasped and his head snapped back down, his screen lighting up to project sweat beads across his face. “Sp-Spammy…”
Spamton bobbed his head, taking more of Tenna’s length each time. “Ohhh—ah, ah, Spam! Spammy~” Tenna reached down and gently pushed Spamton away. He was taken aback by the flash of fear in the Addison’s eyes. “That felt soooo amazing… but I’m supposed to be the one taking care of you.” His frame gathered in a soft expression, his surprise melting into a gentle smile.
“But… but don’t you want… [action alllll niiiiiiight looooong]? [Claim your prize]?” Spamton sat back against the cushions so he could look up at Tenna’s face. The latter noted the stress-induced pop-ups and leaned in, taking Spamton’s face in his hands, accidentally leaving a blue smear on his cheek.
“Believe me, Spamton,” Tenna murmured. “I will get my… prize. You… erm.” He looked away and smiled awkwardly, blushing; it was too soon to say what almost came from him so naturally. “Pleasing you brings me so much joy, you know. You feel… so good…” The last words rumbled from his speakers, husky.
Spamton stared up at the screen, unblinking. A memory flashed before him: a pink Addison standing over his prone body, sneering down at him, demanding more while Spamton ached for release.
A mistake he didn’t dare make twice.
Tenna’s nuzzles brought him back to the moment. Spamton’s hands gripped the sides of the screen and he pulled the CRT into a passionate kiss. Tenna returned it, chuckling.
“Now… where were we?” Tenna’s hand slipped between Spamton’s legs, earning a soft moan in response. “Mmm still wet… good…”
Spamton uttered a cry of surprise as he was lifted and turned around to stand on the couch, his hands bracing against the back of it, a metal hand lightly pressing him into position. He gasped as the head of Tenna’s dick pushed against his opening and slipped in.
“I’ll go slow… for now…” Tenna bared his fangs in a greedy grin, ready to give Spamton the “help” he’d begged for. His own hands gripped the couch on either side of Spamton, claws tearing into the upholstery. It shredded as easily as his restraint.
“Spamton… Spa—oh, ah, you feel so—soooo—Ahhh~!” Tenna’s teeth clamped down on Spamton’s upper arm as he thrust deep. Spamton moaned loudly with him, eyes losing focus as his body tried to process the pleasure engulfing him. He quickly threw a hand over his mouth, trying desperately to stifle his sounds while balancing his upper body on one arm.
Tenna began pumping, forgetting the world around him; the only sensations he cared about came from this feathery, supple body in front of him, especially how the warm, wet hole squeezed around his cock. Something was amiss though… He looked down to see Spamton biting his fist. Ha, right…
"I changed the studio layout. No one can hear us. Sing for me, Songbird…" Tenna pulled Spamton’s fist away and stuck his own thumb into the shocked mouth, pressing down on his lover’s tongue and forcing his jaw open. Saliva pooled and dripped down steel. The feeling of it thrilled his circuits. He began to thrust harder, moans crackling from him.
“Ha! Haaaa ha ha ha haaaaAAAA~” Spamton gratefully obliged the TV darkner, happy to not have to worry about getting caught. He let go of himself, carried away on everything his body was experiencing, every touch heightened by his hormonal state. Nothing had ever felt so good, and it was only getting better—
“AHHHH~ TEH-TEH-AHHHH~!” Muscles clenched in the Addison’s belly as a wave of pleasure hit him, tipping him over the edge. He was floating, he was falling, he was everywhere and nowhere all at once.
The sudden arrival of Spamton’s orgasm surprised Tenna, and the gripping muscles triggered his own sensors. “Oh! Oh-ah-Sp-SPAMMY~!” He slammed in as deep as he dared go, immense pleasure rippling through his electronics. His cock throbbed, and soon the blue dripping from Spamton was mixed with an irridescent black. Tenna’s fans hummed as he tried to catch his breath.
Tenna regained himself slowly, becoming vagely aware of Spamton pulling his mouth away from the thumb and squirming to dismount urgently. Tenna gasped at the stimulation, pulling out of the other, who scrambled off the couch, cradling his round belly.
Spamton frantically looked around and finally found a blanket he had cast aside earlier. Picking it up hurriedly, he formed it into a loose circle in an empty corner. No sooner had he finished, the pipis started arriving. Breathing steadily as the new clutch was placed in their nest, a small thought pinged Spamton’s awareness: these were easier to lay. Much easier.
A sigh of relief escaped the smaller darkner as he finished. Tilting his head back and smirking at the other, he stated one clear command:
“More.”
Ant Tenna didn’t need to be told twice. Machinery grinding, he quickly moved from where he’d been watching and recovering, closing the gap between them as his secondary arms extended from his sides. He chuckled mischievously at Spamton’s surprised look, using the newly-exposed limbs to scoop up the Addison and whisk him away to the nearest flat surface—the vanity.
Wood creaked lightly as Spamton’s back hit the table. His manic grin was reflected back by the darkened screen’s own and suddenly he again felt himself being stretched by Tenna’s manhood. His ass and legs were supported by the lower arms, gripping his thighs and pulling him into each thrust. The upper arms reached down to caress his hair, his face, his chest. Fingers wove through his feathers, alternately ruffling and smoothing them. He had never felt so adored; there would never be an audience large enough to even come close.
Tenna found himself enthralled, wanting to feel every part of Spamton’s body. He hungered for more and knew he would never be sated, but he would damn well try. Sliding through the inside was a feeling beyond his wildest dreams already, how could he ever get enough?
The lovers’ gasps and sounds of pleasure echoed against the mirrors angled around them. The augmented sound caught Tenna’s attention and he looked up; the scene before him made his center turn molten.
“Spammy! Oh, Spammy, look at how amazing you are…” A metal finger hooked itself under Spamton’s chin and tilted his gaze towards the reflection. The hands supporting him lifted his hips up, giving him more room to stretch and also bringing them into view. Spamton saw the blush heavily covering his face as he panted, the corners of his mouth pulled into a drunken, wobbly smile. His hair and feathers were askew, he had blue and black streaks across his body…
Above his reflection he saw that of the CRT over him, the thoroughly smitten expression drawn across the now-lit screen, the broad, strong chest supporting the arms that held him, the hands all over him, and the cock plowing into the valley between his thighs…
He’d never seen something so beautiful. It was overwhelming, it was—
A shock ripped through him, and once again he was tipped into that enrapturing abyss, his body tightening around the metal length inside him. His own cries of ecstatic pleasure were soon matched by Tenna’s harmony, and splashes of black and blue dripped over the edge of the vanity.
One of the extra hands smoothed feathers as Tenna regained his senses, his tongue lolling slightly, basking in the afterglow. Uneven bumps alerted him, though, and this time he anticipated, carefully pulling himself out of Spamton with a hum. He picked up the other, who appeared to still be absent from the moment. Tenna carried him over to the previously laid nest of pipis, hoping this was the correct spot.
His assumption proved to be correct. Soon, Spamton was hunched over the nest, laying more pipis and… even moaning quietly? Tenna felt a flare of pride; apparently he was doing a great job “helping”.
He hovered near the Addison in case he was needed, kneeling next to the nest. Moments passed after the last pipis was laid, then those gorgeous eyes turned to him, and he knew exactly how he was needed.
“More.”
Delight flowed through him, how nice it was to be wanted! Spamton always made him feel like the most important man in the Dark World, but this event felt… different. Next level.
Happy to oblige once again, Tenna grasped Spamton’s sides with his main hands and fell onto his back right where he’d been next to the nest, careful to check for any other pipis nests behind him. Spamton yelled in surprise as the metal grip lifted him to Tenna’s face, placing his tentacle and slit right over the TV's lips.
Tenna’s internal cooling pounded as he heard Spamton’s loud moaning, knowing the tentacle’s contact with his tongue was the cause. Machine he may be, but even then, the sensors along his dick needed a moment to recalibrate…
Spamton’s vision blurred. He felt fatigue creeping in at the edges, but still his body demanded he keep going. He wasn’t done yet, and thank goodness he wasn’t, because the tongue exploring him felt amazing, not to mention the view…
He was facing Tenna’s body, gazing across the panels and wires that contained his partner. As he admired the machinery, the secondary hands crept into his view, sliding down Tenna’s stomach… and gripping his erection. Spamton’s vision refocused and his eyebrows shot up—Tenna was stroking himself as he sucked and licked the tentacle. The realization drew a moan from deep within Spamton; he felt his core vibrate with an echoing moan from Tenna.
The TV thrust his tongue into the slit, wanting to hear more of those sweet sounds, and he was rewarded richly for his efforts. The pace of his stroking increased, encouraged by those cries of pleasure. Before he could think to pull back, he felt a splatter across his chest and tightening muscles against his tongue and mouth.
“Ah-ah-Anthooonyyyyy~!” Tenna couldn’t help but store a recording of that audio clip. Spamton singing his name in their song of pleasure was ever so sweet.
Tenna lifted the quivering other off his face and carefully but swiftly turned him. He took his other hands away from his blue-streaked rod, already dripping more oily black from its tip. He looked back up at Spamton and smirked.
“My turn.”
Overstimulation pulled at Spamton as he felt Tenna’s cock slide into him. It felt so good, it felt like so much, almost too much, almost… but still, he wanted it so, so bad.
Tenna reveled in Spamton’s renewed cries of pleasure, holding him up so he didn’t get truly impaled as Tenna bucked his hips. He pumped as deep as he dared, until—
“Spammy~! Oh ohoh ahhhhh OH SPAMTON!” Tenna held Spamton in place, pushing his hips off the ground to meet him, not entirely trusting himself to hold the other lower. Static crossed his screen before it went dark, leaving only a satisfied, lazy grin. His black cum dripped from Spamton’s thighs as he dropped his hips, pulling out of the Addison and placing him next to the nest. Tenna rolled onto his side to watch Spamton, the servos controlling his erect member allowing it to relax slightly.
Before long, one final pipis was nestled in among the clutch. Spamton’s gaze turned to the ceiling and he took a deep, cleansing breath, closing his eyes in satisfaction. He slowly tilted backward, letting exhaustion take him with a smile on his face, barely registering Tenna’s shout of concern as he lost consciousness.
Warm… like being back in his own pipis… No, warmer, how it should have been, if he had been kept in a nest, nurtured…
Spamton’s eyes fluttered, opening just enough for him to get his bearings. He was enveloped in a towel, heat comforting him as if it was fresh from a dryer. The fluffy cocoon held him from the neck down. He flexed his arms and legs. They were snuggly wrapped, not constricted. The movement made him aware of more warmth buried in the towel along his abdomen—a heating pad.
It felt like heaven.
A large hand held him steady on metal panels. He was cradled against Tenna’s bare chest, the latter reclined on the floor with his back against the couch. His screen was off, but the comforting sounds of his body told Spamton by their tones that he was awake. A couple bottles sat near his other hand.
Shifting a little to get a better view, Spamton was mildly disappointed to see that the large darkner had already put his pants back on. The movement caught Tenna’s attention; his screen turned on, a smug grin displayed.
“Ready for more?” he purred.
“Wha—no! No, Ant. Fuck. You were amazing, I just—“
“I’m teasing, Spammy~. I know you’re trying to enjoy the view,” Tenna’s taunting smile softened. “Sorry for covering it up.” He opened a bottle of water with one hand and held it for Spamton to drink before tipping back a bottle of mineral oil for himself.
Spamton chuckled and settled back down against Tenna. “How long was I asleep? I’m worn out, but I feel good. You really were incredible.”
Tenna radiated pride. ”About an hour. I was scared at first; you collapsed after laying the pipis. But… you looked peaceful. You snore so adorably too!” The screen glowed with affection.
“Bah. Thanks,” Spamton huffed, but continued in a genuine tone. “And thank you for [gift wrap included!] me like this. I can’t tell you how good this heat feels.”
“I’m so glad it helps! I was guessing. I need to stay as cool as possible, but I know your body is different, plus it went through a lot today.”
Spamton nodded, taking a deep, relaxing breath. He prayed for this moment to extend into eternity; it was perfect.
Tenna lightly rubbed Spamton’s back through the towel, letting the comfortable silence settle around them, until a thought promoted itself to the front of his processing queue.
"This happens to you every year?"
"Heh, yeah..." Spamton lazily looked towards the screen to see Tenna’s reaction.
"How do you usually... handle it?"
Spamton sputtered, blushing. "Ah, er, well... I... " He sighed. Tenna had seen plenty today, no need to be sheepish now. "By doing what you saw when you first came in." Spamton looked away.
Tenna's frame gathered with concern. "And that... works?"
"... Not at all. It can take the edge off, make it manageable, but only time or a passionate mating can end brooding. And of course only a pairing will make hatching pipis. Thing is, my brooding time has never been this [intense experience] before. I never minded getting by on my own." Spamton dropped the off-the-cuff remark before thinking, and the implications hung between them heavily without clarification. "I-I guess... being here, presenting these ads, seeing your salesmanship—" Spamton's stomach flipped with residual giddiness. "—I think it changed parts of me."
Tenna's screen tinged pink as his lips split into a goofy grin. To be the cause of this! Not that he would wish any suffering on Spam, but as long as he was there to help... This feeling was unnamed, but warm, soft, intoxicating. He hoped his presence would always have such an effect on Spamton, that he could forever be the one to join with him... That Spamton would never experience brooding alone again.
Tenna gently smoothed Spamton's damp hair away from his face, for once unable to find the right words. Spamton's anxious expression melted away. He pressed his cheek into Tenna's palm, relaxing. Tenna held him there, lazily caressing Spamton's hair with his thumb.
"Spammy?" Tenna prompted after a while. "I just realized that you started laying the pipis in a different area after I, erm… joined in. Is there a reason for that?"
Spamton's eyes flew back open wide, beset once again by icy fear. His heart pounded in his chest. He had been hoping to avoid this conversation. It likely wouldn't matter, but since Tenna asked, he deserved the truth.
"Are... Are you okay?" Tenna was staring back at Spamton, who realized he still hadn't answered.
"Shit, Tens, you're a [smarty pants] guy, asking [good question] like that. [Eyes peeled], aren't you?" Spamton chuckled weakly. "How do I... " Spamton took a deep, shaky breath. "Okay, [4-night stay] with me on this one, listen until I'm done [terms and conditions]. Promise?" Tenna nodded blankly.
"The pipis I laid before you got here... I was [accelerated production] on my own. As in... there's [0% down] possibility of them hatching." Spamton paused briefly as Tenna's expression changed to a pondering one. "The ones I laid after we—well after you—once there was—" Hot damn, since when was he so shy talking about sex? This kind of conversation among Addisons was like discussing the weather. "[You came!] inside of me, Tens, and maybe... maybe the pipis can hatch. BUT—"
Fans within Tenna's body sped up, betraying stress. Still, Spamton had made it clear that he wasn't done, and Tenna kept his promise to not interrupt. Spamton shrank under the unreadable expression on Tenna's face. It wasn't angry, but it definitely wasn't a happy look either.
"I'm... [unlike any other] Addisons. For one, white Addisons are [limited edition], not terribly rare but uncommon, and we have physical differences from other Addisons. On top of that, I'm not as big, basically the [QC failed] of the clutch. And it all... means that I'm highly unlikely to... have fertile pipis."
Tenna was doing his damnedest to keep his mouth shut. Hot air pounded out of the vents on the sides of his head as his fans screamed to keep his processors cool. A plethora of thoughts trampled through his head, threatening to burst from him.
"That's—That's it I—"
"I'M NOT AN ADDISON!" The exclamation tumbled from Tenna as he wrapped his arms around the towel-clad darkner, needing his comforting closeness. "How could that—"
"You don't have to be," Spamton interrupted quietly. "No matter what species, the bottom line is that... fluid contains data. Addison bodies are made of code; we take that data and reshape it to digitally fertilize the pipis."
"Why didn't you tell me before?" Tenna whined. "I don't know if it would change anything, I just..." He hugged Spamton even closer.
Spamton closed his eyes. "I'm sorry. I truly am. I was desperate for you, and it's so massively unlikely to happen, but that doesn't... What I mean to say is, you deserved to know what you were getting into. I'm sorry."
It wasn't often Tenna saw the genuine person who was Spamton G. Spamton. Normally hiding behind layers of charm, wit, and cheap cologne, Spamton was a natural showman. Tenna had gotten to see more of the real Spamton in recent months than anyone else ever had. In this moment, though, every remaining wall had been stripped away, leaving the raw, exposed man. Tenna's emotional processor briefly experienced increased flops.
"I forgive you, Spam." Tenna kissed his temple. "We'll need to set some expectations for the future though, work on your communication. I got a lot of surprises today. I don’t want to be blindsided like this again. We can talk about it when you're rested."
Spamton looked up at the CRT with shock and wonder. "You still want to be with me, even after all this? The disruption on the largest sales day of the year, this [large messes], hiding that from you—"
"Shh. Yes, I still want to be with you, in business—” Tenna kissed Spamton lightly. "—and in pleasure." A wide smile split his screen. "Besides! I might be a dad!" He giggled excitedly. Spamton could only stare in vague confusion.
Tenna continued gazing dreamily into the distance. A smile snuck its way onto Spamton’s lips; the TV’s affection for family, as alarming as the idea was for the Addison, was endearing.
“C’mon, [hot stuff]. I need to get the pipis taken care of.” Spamton pulled a hand out of the towel and patted a chest panel affectionately. “We’ll start with the ones we… worked on together. There’s signs right away if they’re growing. I can show you how to tell, if—”
“I’d love to help!” Tenna snapped back to the present moment and gently lifted Spamton off of him. He untucked the towel, allowing the smaller darkner to free his legs, ditch the heating pad, and wrap the towel around his waist. Tenna sat next to the pile of pipis Spamton had gestured to, and Spam followed him over.
“Okay, so what you’re going to look for is…”
Tenna stood near the vanity, buttoning his shirt. He would have to carry his suit jacket over his arm to hide the stains on the way back to his own room. His processor started to wander as he gathered his things.
“Spam?” he asked timidly, his screen dark.
“Mm?” Spamton acknowledged, not looking up from pulling on his sweatpants.
“None… of them? None are going to grow?”
“… Not this time, Tens.”
Tenna’s screen flickered back on as he turned it towards Spamton, a neutral smile spread across it. “Thank goodness for that, huh? Can you imagine? Us, fathers? We’re on our way to being big shots!” Tenna laughed lightly. “The time it would take to focus on our kiddos! I’d have to spoil them, and what would happen to the show?” He chuckled again. “I suppose we’d make it work. The production wouldn’t be the same though!”
“You’d [love and devotion] that much time to them?”
“Of course! They’re children, right? They need care, attention, education! I’m sure I could trust some of the crew to help us. Even so, we would need to shift our focus drastically.”
Spamton stared at Tenna thoughtfully for a moment, then went back to tugging on his loose-fitting clothes, his melancholy smile hidden from Tenna’s sensors. “When you’re right, you’re right, Ant.” He fixed a winning, big shot smile on his face and looked back up. "We can't slow down now!"
"Exactly!" Tenna beamed and stepped towards the door. As he was about to grab the handle, he glanced back one more time, a sheepish smile playing across the pink hue of his screen. "So... let's be more careful from now on, yeah?"
Spamton strode over to him and motioned for him to lean down, bestowing a good-bye kiss. "Yeah. We'll be more careful."
Tenna nodded approvingly and headed out the door after checking the hallway, the latch clicking slowly behind him. Spamton watched the door close. He frowned as soon as he was certain he was alone.
More careful. Much more careful. Spamton had told the truth; none of the pipis were viable. That one, though...
Spamton's blood ran cold. One had been awfully close.