Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Mettaton had him pressed against the counter of his vanity, legs splayed and half-dressed. He’d caught the television in the middle of getting undressed after a show, when he’d decided that the flirting and the beating around the bush just wasn’t for him.
“Wha-heh-so what brought this on-?” Tenna asked nervously, still trying to remain semi-casual.
“You talk so much, darling… makes you a brilliant host, but it does get grating. There’s a time where actions mean more than words…” He was unbuttoning Tenna’s shirt as he spoke.
“Eh-heh— Mhh- Sorry…” He apologized, though he wasn’t quite sure why, “Your hands are cold…”
“You can feel sensation in your casing? I didn’t expect that from such an old model,” He didn’t mean for it to sound so rude, but Tenna made an incredulous noise that signaled that it was, “I just mean that… I can barely feel when people touch my body aside from the silicone parts… Much less the temperature… Is that the same all over, Mr. Tenna?”
“It… it depends on how high my sensitivity is…” He murmured, “You’d have to open me up to—“
Mettaton gently pried his fingers underneath the plastic-y casing of Tenna’s chest. It came apart with ease, since Tenna released the snaps on the inside, “Let’s see what we’re working with…”
“You don’t have to—“ He began, but one of Mettaton’s robotic arms slid around Tenna’s wrists like a boa constrictor and slinked up his neck and face. Fingers were promptly shoved down his throat to silence him. And though he didn’t need his mouth to speak, or even breathe, he still played along and “gagged” on them, which Mettaton found quite amusing.
“You’re a quick learner, aren’t you? So eager to please…” He chuckled. He leaned in to look over his complicated-looking innards, “Walk me through…”
His voice came through his speakers clearly despite the fact that he was sucking on Mettaton’s fingers. “The dials… um… Focus, contrast, brightness, volume, and… er, this one is exclusive to this body, but… sensitivity… The wires are—“ Before he could choke out the next sentence, Mettaton had grabbed some of them and tugged them hard, “MGHhghhtouch-sensitive—!” He gasped, attempting to squirm from Mettaton’s grasp so he could grab onto something.
He ‘tsk’ed gently, “You have such poor wire management. We’ll have to fix that before we let this get any further.”
He nodded wordlessly, a plea for him to continue to work. And work he did, gently running his fingers over the wires and smoothing them in place. Each gentle touch made Tenna squirm and chuff. The fans in his head were beginning to fire up.
“Whoops…” he said as he nudged the sensitivity dial up further. He grabbed a fistful of wires and pulled hard.
Tenna gasped and moaned, back arching, “FffffuHhuhck… Thank you… Oh, thank you so much…” He breathed near a whisper, writhing under his touch.
“Language, Mr. Tenna… Not very family-friendly…” He hummed, “Let’s try again, shall we?”
He turned up the volume knob, now.
And then he swiftly leaned in and dragged his silicone tongue over the tops of the dials. As they turned, Tenna’s picture warbled and shook. His voice did, too. It was especially loud, now.
“AH! HAH!” He threw his legs around Mettaton, yanking him closer, “MORE! Fuck, I need more!”
He chuckled, releasing his arms from his grasp and instead opting to wrap his arms around Tenna’s neck, “More, hmm? I think that can be arranged…”
Tenna placed his hands on Mettaton’s lower back, pulling him closer once more, as if he were attempting to melt into the other man, “Please… please, I need it…”
“Oh, I know…” he teased, reaching back into Tenna’s casing, “I’ve got you, darling…” He plunged his hand deeper into the wiring, making Tenna jump.
“WAIT-! NgK- Careful-!” He yelped.
His hand wrapped around something unfamiliar, but the sensation made Tenna tense and grab Mettaton’s wrist. He stared at him, mouth slightly agape
“…What? What’s wrong?” His voice shifted from the sultry one he’d been using to a more concerned one.
“That— that’s— be careful. Don’t hurt…” He seemed… afraid, “My SOUL canister— your hand is—“
His eyes widened, “…This is your—?”
He nodded a bit.
“…” He bit his lip, “Do you… want me to stop?”
He shook his head rapidly.
“…May I…?” He grasped the canister more carefully, though less tentatively.
He bit his lip and thought for a minute, looking to the side. He nodded.
“Say yes or no. I’m not going to just take a nod on this one,” He huffed.
“Yes,” he croaked out shakily.
He carefully pulled the soul canister out from behind the wall of wires, holding it like it were a bomb that would explode if he touched it the wrong way. Tenna bit his lip. A hiss and a click, and the canister was slowly beginning to open. When Mettaton looked at him in surprise, he looked away, embarrassed.
Mettaton was literally holding Tenna’s life in his hands. He looked up at the TV, staring at him as he leaned down and licked up the side.
Tenna practically howled. His speakers were garbled and static-y, though some snippets of words and what seemed to be random, intercepted TV signals were able to break through occasionally.
“Oh FUCK… Mh… I cAN’t— Tonight at 6– I’M— I need—!” He went to plunge his hand into his pants, but Mettaton quickly stopped him, “Please- Let me— Chance of rain over the— I HAVE to…”
“Take your pants off. Nothing more or I’ll stop immediately,” Mettaton commanded, placing a thumb in the middle of his SOUL and gently rubbing in circles.
Tenna hissed and writhed as he shucked his pants off, “HOhgod…” Steam was pouring from his vents, “I’m— I need to—“
“Shhh… Sit back. Keep your hands on the counter and don’t move them…” Mettaton hummed softly, “I want to see the hardware I’m working with…”
He hooked his thumb into the side of Tenna’s boxers, which were nearly soaked through in the crotch, and pulled them off gingerly.
“Oh, how pretty… look at you…” He hummed, “Gorgeous choice… A pussy looks good on you…”
He spread his legs further for him, embarrassed, “Fully… fully functional… organ system…” He murmured.
“…As in—?” He cocked an eyebrow.
“…” He nodded, “So… be sure to… er… take care.”
“Oh, don’t worry. Just because you’re a robot incubator doesn’t mean I’m an insemination machine,” he teased.
He scoffed softly, looking away, “Mmph…”
“Besides, you think I’d ever just fuck you right off the bat? What do you take me for?” He gently moved his SOUL in front of his pussy and began to lap at it, allowing it to float just in front of his clit.
“Oh- please—!” He gasped, “The teasing— Torture—“ He managed to get out. Grool was absolutely dripping off of him.
“Isn’t it just?” He purred, tongue tantalizingly close to exactly where Tenna wanted it to be. He wanted to push it. See how much he could get out of him before he broke, “Now be a good boy and speak…”
He was going to object to that, but Mettaton gently nipped at his SOUL and he forgot all about what he was going to say, “OH! HahHh yes siRrrr…!” He cried.
Mettaton worked his tongue against him with a vigor that would’ve made him cum instantly if it was actually the sensation he was looking for. As it stood, though, it just felt like… being on the edge of an orgasm, constantly. He could feel his very SOUL throbbing.
“It’s— MhhK! It’s not FAIR!” He murmured, “Can’t touch myself— Can’t touch you— I need you! I love you—“
He cocked an eyebrow at that, but shrugged and continued, figuring it was just his horny talking.
“FuHUckk, put your tongue in me-! Please—!” He begged, hands twitching.
Mettaton giggled on him, sending a vibration through his SOUL that traveled up his spine that made him dizzy.
“NOw-! I need it NOw!” He couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed his SOUL and shoved it back into the canister with one hand, shoving Mettaton’s face into his deliciously wet pussy with the other.
Mettaton yelped a little, but happily obliged him. He reached up and felt for the sensitivity dial, turning it all the way up.
Tenna screamed out, hips bucking. He grabbed onto the sides of the counter, which was necessary because he thought he might just short-circuit and fall off the side of the counter if he didn’t keep himself grounded.
“OH SHHhhH—- HhAHHH! Oh, DoN’tstOP! Don’t you DARE stop!” He shoved his face down when he attempted to come up and make a sarcastic quip.
Tenna could feel pressure building inside of him. Between the foreplay and Mettaton’s tongue fucking him so hard he could see stars, he wasn’t going to last long.
Or at all.
He cried out in an attempted warning before he squirted on Mettaton’s face, thighs tightening around his head and holding him there as he shook and rode out the orgasm.
It took him a while before he released him. Before he came down.
Mettaton, despite not needing to breathe, was panting.
“…Holy shit.” He murmured.

Chapter Text

It had been a rough night. The show hadn’t gone well. Tenna had noticed Spamton growing further and further away, and he was becoming distracted by it. Not only was Spamton getting more distant, he was also becoming rude. Downright belligerent. In fact, just before the show he’d told Tenna he didn’t need this. He didn’t need the lights or the fame. He had something big coming his way.
That little number had settled in Tenna’s stomach like a dropped barbell.
The truth was, he had actually begun to enjoy Spamton’s company as more than just a business partner. In fact, he’d go as far as to consider him a friend… or at least an acquaintance.
Either way, he’d be really sore about it, if he left.
He stepped off of the stage and ripped off his tie and jacket like they’d been constraining him.
“God DAMMIT!” He barked, now in a sour mood himself, “Who the hell put the couple with the crying baby right in the front row of the audience?! I couldn’t focus all night!”
A few shivering stage hands looked between each other nervously. When nobody answered, Tenna’s body language softened and he sighed heavily, since he just realized he had screamed at a bunch of star-struck teenagers hoping to get in on show business through working backstage.
“…Sorry, fellas. Take 15…” He waved them off, greeted with a couple ‘thank you, 15’s as they left.
He leaned on his hands in front of his large mirror, though it was a bit harder to reach than normal. Had he shrunk? Had his mood really affected him that much? Of course, he could change his size at will any time he pleased, but when he felt upset or nervous, he couldn’t really control it that well. Spamton was able to make him feel that way?
“[Howdy, pardner]!” Said a voice from behind him. He whipped around, “What, uh… what happened out there?”
“Oh, I…” He sighed, “I dunno, Spammy… I just croaked, I guess.”
“Ah, I get it. One of those nights, huh?” He stood at his own mirror and began to preen through his hair with a comb, attempting to pick out any white strands of his Addison fur.
“Yeah, I guess…” He murmured, watching him as he picked at the grout between the vanities.
“Mm. You’ve been having [one of those nights, huh?] like that more often, now…” He commented, “Getting old, [sonny]?”
He was just picking at him, as he often did, but Tenna snipped at him, “Yeah, well some of us have to act our age!”
Spamton just laughed a little, “[Woah, there, Bessie]! Didn’t mean to touch a [do I make you nervous, baby?]! You’re so uptight…”
The laugh seemed to disarm him immediately. In fact, it seemed to put him down even further. Now he was almost Spamton’s— well, an Addison's size, “I guess so.”
He wanted to be angry. He wanted to scream, hit something, fire someone… but he just had no justification when Spamton was pretending everything was fine. When there was no real indication that anything was different. That his words had just been brought on by a stupid fight about something or another.
He couldn’t be mad, so what could he be?

Desperate…

That was one he knew well.
He just had to find a means of keeping Spamton there. Increasing his pay would be a good start.
“Why don’t we go out for a drink on the strip? We haven’t had a sit-down in a while,” Tenna suggested, grabbing his keys up.
“Now you’re [cooking with gas]. That’s a brilliant idea,” He smiled a bit, putting the comb down and turning to the TV.
“Then let’s ditch this popsicle stand,” He didn’t bother putting his jacket or his tie back on before he walked out.
Tenna decided he would drive, figuring he’d get less drunk than Spamton, anyway.
He rolled down the windows and allowed himself to feel Cyber City’s warm summer air rush through his vents as they cut through the noise and neon around them. Some stupid 80’s pop-rock song was playing. To fill the silence of the deafening wind, Spamton turned it up. He leaned his head back against the headrest and blew cigar smoke up at the ceiling, watching it disperse as gas collided with solid.
Tenna opened his mouth to speak, but didn’t. Spamton seemed to notice, even with his eyes closed.
“What?”
“Hmm?”
“What’s the matter with you? We’re not having comfortable silence, we’re having [maybe things took a weird route] silence…”
Tenna chuckled a bit at the ridiculousness of that one, “Where did that soundbite even come from?”
“Don’t try to [cuz you’re my favorite subject!] on me, Tenna, I know you. You’re tense,” He gestured vaguely to Tenna’s shoulders. Tenna slouched as soon as he was aware of himself.
He opened his mouth again, this time just taking a moment to think of a clever way to subvert this.
“Do you ever feel… lonely? Like, even in the biggest crowds with heaps of people laughing and cheering for you, there’s still nobody there who’s really on your side? Nobody who’ll… I dunno, make you soup when you’re sick or something cheesy like that?” He chuckled weakly.
“…What the hell are you talking about, [Cornball]?” He scoffed a bit, grinning.
“I… I dunno, it’s just something I…” He shrugged, “I really only have you… and Mike, I guess, but Mike isn’t the kind of guy who’d wanna get a drink with me after work, you know?”
“You’re being silly, Tenna…” He inhaled a long drag off his cigar and then proceeded to blow it toward Tenna. His vents sucked up the smoke. He could taste it, feel it in his throat. It was thick, and almost sweet in a tar-like way.
“Maybe.”
“You’ll always have [a friend in me], yknow,” He shrugged, “Your ol’ pal!”
He bit his tongue hard. He tasted copper. This was unusual because he typically only tasted iron in day-to-day life, “I will?”
“Well, as long as I don’t get too [Mr. Popular]!” He laughed. Tenna didn’t.
Good thing they had arrived at the bar.
“Whiskey. Neat. Make it quick, I don’t have [All Night, All Day, Angels Watching Over Me],” He said as soon as his ass hit the stool.
“I’ll have a Cosmo, if you don’t mind, sweetheart,” Tenna said in his charming, please-don’t-spit-in our-drinks and sat beside him.
The bartender girl just gave them a quick, brows-knitted once-over before getting to work on their drinks.
“That was rude,” He scoffed.
“[I never said I was a nice guy],” He snickered, leaning on his hand, which was propped up on the table.
He rolled his… well. You know.
“Now who’s being weird?” He grinned a bit.
“Heh-hey, see! I see that smile!” He smacked his back playfully, then grabbed his shoulders, beginning to rub his muscles (well. You know) in circles with his thumbs, “I told you, just loosen up!”
He rolled his shoulders into Spamton’s touch, then popped his neck from side to side, “Damn, you’re right…” He winced, “I’m sore…”
“Probably all those [Physical Challenges],” He commented. Something caught Tenna’s eye. A glint on Spamton’s finger. Despite his lack of eyes, Spamton seemed to know exactly where he was looking and yanked his hand away quickly, “I told you we needed to cut back on them.”
“Maybe…” He murmured, deciding not to ask about it till he was more drunk, “You’re probably right. You’re usually right about these things.”
“I know…”
They got their drinks. Tenna sipped on his, but Spamton finished his own quickly, attempting to encourage him to do the same.
“Don’t be such a [Spongebob Squarepants], you know we’ve got all night to burn…” He scoffed.
He nearly choked on his drink, “Oh, come on, that was cheap.”
He laughed, “What? What was cheap?” He knew what he’d done, he was just playing coy.
“Mm…” He glanced around like he was afraid of being caught before he downed his drink, then gestured for another round, “We’ll start a tab, hon!”
“Why do you do that?” Spamton asked.
“Do what?”
“Call them pet names and stuff.”
“I dunno. Just seems nicer than what you do.”
He raised an eyebrow, “I’m not that bad.”
“You are. You know I’ve never apologized for someone as much as you…”
“Then stop apologizing,” He said bluntly, not even looking at him.

…

Tenna laughed, “And- And then— He throws the thing right out into the audience! Right into it!” He was telling drunken stories to the bartender, who was beginning to warm up to the two of them. Her name was Byte, which they only learned because she’d begged Tenna (who was extremely embarrassed) to stop calling her things, “We never did see that stupid blender ever again.”
“They should just make those [4.99] products work! Or at least make a demo product that does! I shouldn’t be the one who has to [fake it till I make it]!” Spamton scoffed, face noticeably redder than before, “It should be their burden.”
It seemed that Byte had begun to like them quite a bit after seeing the more than generous tip that Mr. Tenna had left on his card after maxing out their first tab. She was enjoying chatting with them. Then, the bell over the door jingled and she had to split, offering them a sympathetic smile.
“Aw, man, I was gonna get her [867-5309]…” Spamton grumbled.
“You can’t do that,” Tenna scoffed softly, glancing at him. It took him a great amount of effort to actually focus on him.
“Why the hell not? She's got a pretty nice [pork butts, 2.99 per pound],” He nudged him with his elbow, gesturing to her behind.
“Ugh!” Tenna pushed his arm away, “Aren’t you married?”
“HAH!” He laughed shortly, “HAHEHAHAHEAH! No! Why would I ever get [the old ball and chain]?”
“Your ring.” He gestured, “It’s new. I kinda figured you just didn’t want it to be a big deal or something…”
“Tenna, that’s idiotic,” He held his ring finger tight as if he was concealing a great secret on it, “No, I’m already [the old ball and chain] to you. To my work,”
“That’s… sort of sweet,” Tenna’s face filled with pink static, “…You… Then what is the—?”
“Yeah, yeah, don’t expect me to be so [CornHub] ever again… I’m just drunk. And quit asking me so many questions…” He shook his head, definitely taking note of that reaction.
“…” He bit his lip, “If you’re married to your work, are… you planning on continuing that with me? With the studio, I mean? Like… you aren’t going somewhere else?”
“…” He glanced down at his drink, trying to formulate the right answer, “Where would I go? [I really only have you- have you- have you].”
The repetition of his own words made him cringe. He hated when Spamton used his voice against him. Even if it wasn’t necessarily in a bad context.
“Wherever you wanted. You don’t need me. You said that.”
“…” He shrugged, “Does it matter? I’m here [live, for one night only!].”
He knew he was fucked, “…How much are they going to pay you?”
“Almost [50% SALE] more than what I’m already making…” He glanced up at him.
“You know I can’t afford to pay you double,” He sighed.
“I know. And that’s just going to have to be [it’s alright, Spamton, you’ll get ‘em next time],” This time, Tenna visibly got tense at his own voice, “I know it isn’t ideal, but-“
“Can we go home?” Tenna asked suddenly, “I feel a little sick.”
He didn’t feel sick. Actually, he just felt angry. He felt a little betrayed. He thought Spamton was his partner. His co-host. Not some… anonymous benefactor’s way into the big leagues. He knew Spamton had a talent for show business, but now he was going god-knows-where with god-knows-who to be exploited in god-knows-how-many ways! It filled him with rage. It made his blood boil.
In a strange way, it made something stir inside him. Some sort of heat throbbing in his wires. A possessive, ugly feeling he hadn’t ever felt for anyone else. It was alien and exciting all at once.
“Sure. If you want,” He shrugged, “Do you have the [Kromer] to pay or should I get this?”
“I’m alright.” He sighed, putting down the money he barely had enough of to pay for drinks they shouldn’t have had.
“This is my [big shot], right here, folks-“ He said drunkenly to nobody as he slapped his hand on Tenna’s back.
They made their way to the curb a couple blocks from where the bar was, where they’d parked the car. (“I’ve got a lot of [important files and documents] in here! You’ve gotta park it far away, and then we’ll just [hoof it, Asgore!] to and from the bar.”) Spamton opened the door for him, which made him laugh a little.
It wasn’t till he was actually sitting in the car that Tenna realized he truly wasn’t in any condition to drive. It was quiet around them. The strip was dark apart from the very few bars that were still open and a few flickering street lamps. Sure, Cyber City never slept, but the strip went to bed around 11:30, when almost everything closed.
“…What’s the matter, [Boob Tube]?” He snorted at his own joke, cigar smoke jumping from his mouth with each weak laugh he let out.
“We’re gonna have to sleep in the car, Spammy,” He glanced at him.
“What? Why?!” He sat up like a rocket.
“I can’t even see through the- the static. I can’t focus enough to… see,” He laughed a bit.
“Oh, [you’ve GOAT to be KID-ding me]!” He groaned, “Why did you have so many drinks?”
“You kept telling me to!” He threw his hands up incredulously, “‘We have all night, Tenna!’ ‘Just have a good time, Tenna!’” He mocked.
“I don’t sound like that.”
“Right. You don’t sound like that. But that’s basically what you said.”
“…What do we do?” His leg bounced nervously.
“You can’t leave, Spamton…” He murmured suddenly, voice becoming deeper and more serious, “I don’t know what I’m gonna do without you…”
“…” He looked at him slowly, “I [can’t leave, Spamton]?” He scoffed.
“No. You can’t,” He turned his whole body to face him now. His screen was filled with static and he seemed a little frantic by his body language.
“I can… You can’t tell me what to do…” He scoffed.
Tenna grabbed him by the collar, yanking him halfway over the center console with a snarl. His fangs, which Spamton had only caught glimpses of when he was speaking, were exceptionally visible under the light of the moon, “No matter whether or not you realize it, you’re still just a little man, Spamton. If I want you to stay, you will stay…”
Spamton opened his mouth to speak… but he had to admit, he was a little… intimidated. To say the least, “You… want me to stay that bad, huh?” He asked weakly. He squirmed a little against the console.
“Spammy, I don’t just want you to stay… I need you to stay,” He breathed, voice becoming more and more shaky, more and more dangerous, with each word.
“You… [need me to stay]?” His voice was near a whisper.
“Stop using my voice, dammit! Just talk to me! Use your own words!” He yelled, shaking him.
“Tenna, I don’t know what you want me to [Sonic Says] about that.” He squirmed.
“…I don’t either,” But the longer he held him up there, the more in control he felt. The bigger he felt. He liked the power over Spamton. It was intoxicating. Even more so than the alcohol they’d just consumed, “I just… wanna know how to make you stay… No. I want to know how you’re able to leave in the first place. I don’t get it… What do you have that I don’t?”
Spamton scoffed softly at the question. What didn’t he have? For one thing, he had the ring… which he found himself glancing at subconsciously.
“It’s this, isn’t it?” Tenna let go of his collar and grabbed his hand, “This has something to do with it!”
“OW! Let go—! You’re [lowering my HP]!” He winced. The ring seemed to be embedded deep within the bone of his finger. Screwed in tight.
“You have to tell me! Tell me, Spammy! So I can come with you!” He whined.
“Why do you want to [Kum and Go] with me so bad?!” He scoffed, ripping his hand from his grip.
“Because I NEED you, Spamton!” He barked suddenly, “Everything has been… so much better with you here! I can’t do this without you!”
“…Need… me?” He cocked an eyebrow.
“Don’t be coy… You know I need you. Your attention…” He murmured, “You have to. Otherwise, why would you say all that stuff about not needing me when we have our little scuffles?”
“Tenna…” He sighed heavily. What could it hurt to bring on one more recruit, “…I… I guess I could tell you…”
Tenna perked up almost immediately.
“But not here,” Spamton put his hands over Tenna’s mouth, “Not now. The [walls have ears]…”
“…” Tenna blushed, staring at him. He could technically still speak, considering he didn’t really talk out of his mouth, he talked out of his speakers, but he didn’t. For the sake of the effect.
“Heh… You’re all [paint the roses red],” he chuckled, “What’s that about?”
He sucked air in through his teeth, “Maybe I… need you in a couple of different ways?”
Spamton’s eyebrows raised.
“Maybe I need you in a more…” He pulled Spamton in closer, across the console and into his lap. He closed the gap between them. When he did
that m-so, Spamton could feel a fizzle of static electricity between them that made the fur on his face stand up. Shockingly enough, Spamton only resisted the kiss for a second before he kissed back. Then, as quickly as the warm tingling sensation began, it ended, and Spamton was left dazed and confused, “…Carnal way?”
Spamton stared at him, eyes wide, “…Jeez, [Ten-out-of-ten]na, why didn’t you just say so?”
He scoffed a bit, “Shut up…” He kissed him again. Spamton, this time, opted to shove his shockingly long, tentacle-like tongue down Tenna’s throat. Tenna let out a yelp, but when Spamton went to pull away, he grabbed the back of his head and kept him there. He didn’t care. He didn’t need to breathe.
Spamton’s hands lingered down Tenna’s chest and stomach. He could already feel him overheating down there, just from the kissing. He chuckled softly, retracting his tongue back into his mouth, “Pathetic. Are you serious?”
“Mm?” Tenna was a little star-struck, “What’dyou mean?”
“You’re [turned up to 11]! Jeez, I knew you weren’t very busy, but I didn’t know you were [completely useless] when it came to this…” Spamton used Tenna’s own voice, once again, causing the TV to tense. He’d said that about himself.
“You…-? What’re you doing?” He scoffed.
“Nothing, just pointing out some things that I’ve noticed…” He hummed softly.
“Mph…” Tenna shook that off, pulling Spamton back up by the collar. He leaned in and started to kiss over Spamton’s neck, brushing his fangs lightly against his skin, almost like a threat. Spamton had to nip that in the bud immediately.
“You know if you’re [too old to keep up] with a big shot like me, I’d be more than happy to take over,” He chirped, successfully stifling a whine.
“Mm-… Stop using my voice. You know I hate that…” He reached down and pulled the lever to push the seat back.
“Well, it’s not like I’m saying anything you didn’t already know…” He hummed.
“Shuddup…” He breathed against Spamton’s neck, running a hand over his chest and down his stomach.
“HeH- HAh! Are you not listening, [Boob Tube]? I can take over!” He watched as Tenna’s hands drifted to his belt and began to undo it.
“I don’t need you to…” He promised.
“You’re going to [banana split] me up the [stuck in the middle with you], you’re huge!” He said finally, showing off the actual panic in his voice.
He scoffed, “Wrong part, Spamton. It’s sweet that you think so, though…”
“Then… then what part—?” He could feel Tenna grinding up against his thigh and it took everything in him to not reach down to touch. He could feel the wetness through Tenna’s boxers. Through the fur on his thigh… He shuddered at the thought of Tenna’s pussy tensing around his cock, but he resisted. He was a little afraid he’d get bit by the way Tenna’s teeth looked, at the moment.
“That part…” He took Spamton’s cigar from the ashtray on the console and took a big puff from it. He leaned in and kissed him, allowing the smoke to linger into Spamton’s mouth.
If Spamton got any harder, he’d explode.
He gently pulled Spamton’s boxers off and dropped them on the floor of the car. He examined what he had to work with with great care. A cloaca with a thick, dark tentacle that slid out of it as he got more aroused.
“I want you to remember this next time you say I’m useless. Remember what I can give to you. What I can do for you…” He retracted his claws and gently pressed two fingers inside of him, rubbing his palm against the underside of the tentacle. Spamton squirmed and gasped, voice catching and glitching as he squeezed his eyes shut.
“The windows— Everyone can see [in 4k high-definition]…” He breathed, holding one of his legs open by the ankle so Tenna would have a better angle.
“Why wasn’t that an issue when you thought you’d be on top?” He scoffed, “Spammy… I love that go-getter attitude, but it makes you selfish sometimes…”
“Sh-shut up— God-! HHAH! I haven’t— Mmhh- I haven’t been [fill ‘er up, please] like this in ages…!” he gasped, letting out a sharp moan as Tenna curled his fingers inside, “GHhh [don’t stop, don’t stop!], please!”
“You’re not even trying to find creative soundbites anymore… That one was just porn,” He shook his head, “Clear your head or I’ll make you clear it.”
“Trying— I’m—“ He moaned, head pressing back against the seat as he writhed, “More—!”
“You don’t deserve more…” He growled, pulling his fingers out.
“WAIT-! What?! You can’t [stop, in the name of love]! You—“ He whined, but Tenna put his hand up to silence him.
“Will you stop whining..?” He unbuttoned his shirt, allowing him to see his internals, which were encased in a clear silicone material, “Now…” He grabbed the base of the tentacle and gently guided it into himself.
“Aw, [geez]!” He threw his head back, leg kicking just a bit, “HHhHah! Fuck! So [warm and wet]!” He reached out, touching where he could see his tentacle twitching and pulsing inside of Tenna’s lower abdomen.
“Cute, isn’t it? You can see exactly where you are inside me…” He started to bounce his hips. Spamton watched, mesmerized by the view. Tenna took his opportunity to shift so he had access to Spamton’s cloaca. He shoved two fingers back inside of him, moving them at the same pace at which he bounced himself.
Spamton’s back arched. He cried out. He clawed at Tenna’s arms, “MoREE! [I NEEEEEED IT], Tenna! I need moRE!”
“Greedy greedy…” He murmured, using his free hand to smoke his cigar. He didn’t even feel the urge to smoke. He was just doing it for the sheer power aspect of it, “You’ll take what I give you, Addison…”
“No-! More-!” He sounded like he was on the verge of tears.
“Oh, fine…” He added another finger. That made 3. Just a step away from full on fisting him. He also made a point to speed up both movements.
Spamton clawed at Tenna’s sides and arms, but as he tried to find a solid place to grab, it seemed that the silicone automatically healed itself, slipping right back into the place it was in before.
“I ha-hHAHHH! Had no [earthly idea] you could ever—“ He held his knees to his chest, now.
“Apologize… for saying I’m useless…” He was clearly worked up, himself, but he seemed to be better at stifling his moans.
“Okay! Fine-! I’m [so fucking sorry, baby]! Is that— Is that what you wanted to hear?!” He squealed.
“Amazing—! Tell me you love me-! Tell me you need me!” He gasped out, speeding up even further as a reward for his good behavior.
“I—“ He looked up at him, a little dumbfounded by that, “H-Huh-?”
“Say it! I need to hear you say it! For the love of the Angel, just—“ He held onto the side of the seat to steady himself.
“But—“ He looked around.
“SAY IT, SPAMTON!” He yelled finally, shoving his fourth and fifth fingers into him
“FUCK! HEHaH! I LoVE YOU, [Stupid machine]! I nEED you inside me, I need to cum in you!”
“GOod! HAH! Good—“ He focused now on just riding him into oblivion. He panted, shaking his head a bit, “You-Hehh you were right- I’m old… I’m not gonna last— UNghhh! Much lOnger-!” He yelled. As he did so, he squirted on Spamton’s cock, eliciting a proud chirp from the salesman.
“I’m gonna fill you up! I’m gonna—!” Spamton had made fun earlier, but it wasn’t long before he came, too. His sticky, white cum filled Tenna’s clear insides and pumped him fill, just as he’d promised, “GHHAhh!” He yelled out, throwing his arms around Tenna, who held onto him quickly.
“Ah-!” Tenna held him. They were both shaking, but both sensations seemed to have hit Spamton harder than Tenna by a long shot. He’d forgotten what a little guy he was, despite his attitude, “Are you okay?”
“Million—“ he began shakily, “Million…. bucks…” he said, glancing up at the TV with a shaky smile.

Chapter Text

Underneath all the expensive, luxury clothing and the blindingly-white entertainer’s smile he put on just to get through the day, Tenna wasn’t all that great at taking care of himself. At least, not by Spamton’s standards. He was under the firm belief that the host needed to relax more. Take time for himself to do what he needed to do before he buckled under the pressure of… well, just being the head honcho.
Finally, when he watched Tenna literally go into sleep mode in the middle of a broadcast, (seriously. He played a “we’ll be right back” message and then slumped over on his desk. Spamton thought he was having a heart attack till he realized he didn’t have a heart to attack.) he decided it was his duty as his totally platonic friend and business partner to force the big guy to take a little bit of a break.
This was easier said than done.
“I don’t need a break, Spammy, I’m fine!” Tenna chuckled, patting his face with the screen polish that he didn’t need, considering Spamton was usually able to fix his makeup during commercial breaks using the reflection of Tenna’s screen.
“Oh, yes you do! You’re gonna get stress fractures from [busting your chops] so hard!” The little man climbed up onto the vanity and shoved Tenna down into his seat.
“Woah-! Watch it! Spam, I’m fine. Seriously. I’ll just… do a line or something, and then I’ll be right as rain!” He shrugged.
“‘Do a line’? Seriously?” He scoffed, “I thought you [value pack] yourself more than that…”
“Don’t act like you don’t have to have a little pick-me-up after your lunch,” he scoffed, “You’re no better than me.”
“At least I don’t look like I’ve just done a bump of [ice cold Cola]. Have you ever wondered how I stay so well put together? It’s cuz I take time for myself,” Spamton was on his knees in front of the performer, now, unlacing his shoes.
“Stop it-! What are you doing?!” He pushed Spamton away carefully, but quickly, with his socked foot.
“Relaaaax,” Spamton put his hands on the robot’s large calves, running his hands down the slick leather of his pants, “It’s a foot massage. Ever [herd] of it?”
“Well… Yeah, but why are you doing all this?” He glanced away, refusing to look the other in the eyes while he was undoing his other shoe.
“Because I can’t have my co-host [Fall Out Boy] again. I’m gonna teach you to relax…” He stripped off Tenna’s sock, revealing soft, silicone feet that flexed nervously under his gaze. Absolutely gorgeous, in Spam’s very humble opinion (er… did he think that out loud?), “Until you like it.”
“Okay! Whatever! Fine! Just-- Just be careful…” He allowed Spamton to pick up one of his huge, heavy feet and begin working his thumb against his middle arch. He couldn’t help but let out a relaxed little sigh.
Spamton grinned a little, feeling the machine relax beneath him, “Jeez, you were tense…”
Tenna had to admit, the mailman was surprisingly good with his fingers… Each movement elicited a new, exciting sound from him. A particular sound made the hair on the back of both of their necks stand up.
They stared at each other, silence hanging in the air like a Christmas bobble.
Then, a glint in his eye told Tenna that Spamton had an idea.
If Tenna wanted coke, he’d give it to him…
“Heh… Hey, [big shot]... if you want coke, I’ll give it to you!” Hey, I just said that, “Shut up.”
“I didn’t say--” He faltered, cut off by the mailman frantically grabbing his ankle to hold it still. He watched as Spamton tapped a small amount of powder onto his foot and used his fingernail to scrape it into a line.
Then, he snorted it off.
“WHEW!” He grinned, “Oh, SHIT, Tens!” he pressed his face against the TV’s heel like an affectionate cat.
“Hhhah…” Tenna loosened his tie, feeling his face heat up as he watched Spamton ogle over his feet, “My god, Spam, you’re… So touchy, tonight…”
“Can’t help myself, Tens! Your feet are just so… [XXX 18+]...” he ran his tongue over where the coke had been, picking up the excess powder.
“Oh god…” Tenna covered his crotch with his hands. He was pitching a tent.
“Oh god…” Spam mocked, dragging his tongue between the host’s toes, making sure to focus on each one separately.
“This isn’t right… You’re-- you’re my coworker…” he scoffed, “My co-host!”
“Still so nervous… So tense… Just relax… I know I’m gonna…” He undid his own belt, then unzipped his pants to allow access to the front of his underwear. He started to grind against his heel.
Tenna stared, incredulous, but didn’t tell him to stop. Definitely not to stop. He never wanted him to stop, “...Just-- Just relax…” he repeated, attempting to follow his orders.
“Ahhehh…” He worked himself against his foot, letting out a soft grunt, “God, that’s nice…”
“...This whole… relax thing… it was just a way to get into my pants, huh?” He scoffed.
“No… I did want you to relax… But now I wanna [kum and go] all over your feet. So I guess it was to get into your socks… Is it working?” he snickered.
“...Surprisingly… yes…” He reached into his pants and palmed himself through his TV Time(™) branded boxers.
“Never thought you were a [Froot by the Foot] guy, huh?” He pulled down his own TV Time(™) branded boxers in the front, working his tentacle cock between his big toe.
“I think I’m just a you guy…” he admitted.
“...” Spamton’s face got surprisingly red, “...I’m going to skip over that and just keep humping your foot, okay?”
He glanced to the side, “Probably for the best!”
Spamton allowed spit to dribble from his mouth onto his dick, slicking himself up with it, “Mmghh, ffff[ox and friends]... So [gouda]...” He sandwiched himself between both of Tenna’s feet, now, beginning to slowly fuck into them.
Tenna bit his lip, now jerking himself off rather than simply palming himself. It just wasn’t enough. He needed this… much more than he needed a foot massage.
Spam’s pace quickened. He needed this, too. Perhaps more than he needed Tenna to receive a foot massage.
The room felt like it was scorchingly hot. Spamton felt like he couldn’t get enough air. He had to finish or he’d die. Tenna was already leaking with precum just watching him rock against him. It was clear he wouldn’t last long.
Then again, Spam wasn’t sure how long he, himself, would last. This was something that he’d never thought he’d get to do.
“I need it… Need [m04r]… Jesus…” he gasped and sputtered weakly.
Tenna nodded rapidly, “More… Have more… Please… I wanna see you cum, Spammy…”
Spamton fucked hard against him, forcing his legs into a complicated position in order to better access his feet.
“Ah-- Shit! I think I’m too old for--” He squirmed.
“ShhHH- SHut up! I’m close!” he humped desperately.
“Ghh-- Are you? Don’t stop, then! Don’t stop!” He gasped like he needed it more than Spamton did.
“Not on your--” His body wracked as he suddenly pressed his hips hard against him, cum spilling over his leather-clad ankles and calves.
“...Hhhehh… Hehehe…” Tenna grinned coyly, “...You gonna let me have a turn?”
“...M…maybe in a second… You aren’t the only one who needed to relax, alright?” he scoffed softly.