Chapter Text
The loud buzz of the alarm clock made Spamton jump out of bed. He glared at it like he was ready to smash it with his fists, but instead he just hit the top button and flopped back down onto the big double bed.
Before he could drift off again, the smell of eggs, bacon, and coffee crept into the room.
“Morning, Spammy. You’re not spending the whole day under the covers.” Tenna’s voice was soft and sweet, way more tender than the one his audience usually got to hear.
“But it’s our day off… shouldn’t I be allowed to do whatever I want? Just five more minutes, Tens.”
“I’ve got the whole day planned out… and your coffee’s getting cold.” Tenna pushed back gently, and Spamton let out a small grumble before finally sitting up.
For the young monster, the sight was picture-perfect. Tenna stood there in a pink apron, holding a breakfast tray worthy of a hotel: sliced fruits, a glass of milk, and pancakes topped with a syrup-written “happy birthday.”
Oh, right—that’s why today was special.
“So? What do you think?” Tenna’s excitement was impossible to hide.
“Wow, I… thanks, Tenna.” Still half-asleep but clearly touched, Spamton looked up at him, and Tenna was smiling ear to ear.
It was his first birthday since meeting the young host, and the first time it didn’t feel cursed or heavy with “bad vibes.” Spamton had always been known as the unlucky one. Born from a failed relationship between a human and a monster, he'd always been pushed aside by his siblings, who bragged about being taller, sleeker, and featherless, just like their mother always wanted. Spamton often wondered how he’d gotten so close to Tenna, who—just like his siblings—was human, but somehow he never looked down at his partner, instead sharing the spotlight with the little monster.
To Tenna, Spamton wasn’t some rejected outcast. He was creative, charismatic—his TV presence magnetic. Tenna had been pulled in like a magnet, and never looked back.
They ate breakfast together in easy silence, broken only when Spamton tried to guess what Tenna had planned. Later, they both got ready for the day.
Spamton caught his reflection in the mirror. He hated the thin white fluff covering his body—almost invisible, more like stray hairs than feathers, but enough to make him want to pluck every last one.
They’re so thin, it wouldn’t be hard to rip them all out…
He cut the thought short and tugged on a black turtleneck, making sure as much of his body as possible was hidden. At least like this, he felt less like a freak.
Tenna was in a sweater too—a mustard yellow that looked amazing against his dark skin, paired with a leather belt and tailored pants. He was staring into the mirror, fussing with his hair until the shape was just right. He was vain, sure, but he cared a lot about how he looked.
Spamton chuckled at the sight, then scooped up a good amount of gel to smooth down the black-dyed feathers on top of his head. At least those had a nice shape to them.
---
This time, Spamton was in the passenger seat of his own car. The price of being surprised by his boyfriend. He wouldn’t have minded—if Tenna didn’t drive so damn slow. His fingers drummed to the beat on the radio while his eyes flicked over to his tense partner gripping the wheel.
“If you don’t like driving, I can take over. Just tell me where we’re going, Tens.” he offered, trying not to sound impatient.
“Spammy, I can handle this. We’re almost there, and I don’t want to ruin the surprise.” Tenna kept his eyes on the road.
“I know you can, Tens, it’s just-”
“Then wait!” Tenna snapped, then immediately softened. “Sorry. I just… I planned everything. I don’t want anything to get messed up.”
“Alright, alright. Sorry for pushing.” Spamton leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I’m sure it’s gonna be amazing.”
“Keep that up and I’ll crash the car,” Tenna muttered, flustered.
“Don’t you dare crash the Cungadero!!” Spamton shot back. Both of them burst out laughing—though Spamton was completely serious about his beloved car.
The Cungadero was proof that Spamton had made it. He still wanted more success, more prestige, but he’d already proved everyone wrong. He had a job at the biggest TV station in the country, fans who listened to his wildest rants like they were gospel, and, most importantly, a partner who made him feel complete.
Before long, they arrived. Not too far from the city, but perfect for the adventure and peace Spamton craved. The ski resort was quieter than usual—no surprise, with winter nearly over and the last of the snow about to melt away.
Tenna had filled the day with activities, just what they needed to shake off the stress and pressure of being TV World’s main stars. He had always dreamed of fame, but nothing worked until Spamton came along. Spamton knew how to highlight the best in him, turning him into the idol audiences adored. Tenna was grateful, always making sure Spamton got his moment on stage too—reading emails, talking to the crowd. He knew how much Spamton longed to be in front of the camera, and honestly, there was no better place for him.
That morning they went snowboarding—the rush of flying downhill balanced perfectly with the calm ride back up the lift. But that was only the start. In the afternoon, Tenna had booked a private spot by the frozen lake. The perfect place to spend time together, away from home and away from everyone else.
“You’re a smart cookie, huh, Mr. Tenna?” Spamton teased, trying not to show how impressed he was.
“And you love it, Mr. Spamton!” Tenna tugged him onto the ice, where the view looked even better.
Even frozen solid, the lake mirrored the cloudless sky above. Pines circled the area, dusted with snow, while empty benches sat waiting for couples that never came.
“You got all this just for me?” Spamton asked, still wide-eyed.
“For us. We deserved some time off the cameras.” Tenna finished tying his skates. “Come on, let’s skate!”
It was rare to see Spamton so genuinely happy. Not that he was always grumpy, but seeing him smile without holding back—that only happened on the most special days. His feathers caught the sunlight like a prism, scattering colors and making him glow like a magical being. And Tenna felt lucky—no, blessed—to have such an angelic sight all to himself.
“Tens, hold my hands.” Spamton grinned, skating backward and offering them.
“What are you planning?” Tenna asked suspiciously.
“Come on, trust me!”
After hesitating, Tenna placed his hands in Spamton’s. Instantly, the little monster pulled him into an offbeat dance, spinning him clumsily across the ice. It was messy, but soon the chaos slowed into something almost like a waltz.
“Already tired?” Spamton smirked, resting his head on Tenna’s chest, listening to his erratic heartbeat.
“You’re the one making me like this.” Tenna’s reply was soft but steady enough to make Spamton’s cheeks burn as he buried his face deeper against the human.
To shake it off, Spamton started spinning them both, faster and faster—until they lost balance and tumbled onto the ice.
“Guess that’s enough skating for today…” Spamton offered a hand to pull him up.
“Spammy, your forehead’s bleeding.” Tenna said, alarmed, guiding him to a bench.
“It’s nothing, doesn’t even hurt.” He brushed Tenna off, but Tenna leaned closer, trying to check.
“Let me take care of it.”
Another reminder that Spamton could never truly belong anywhere… Monsters didn’t bleed, right? But he wasn’t just a monster. He was this Frankenstein mix not even his mother knew how to raise. Too normal to be a monster, too weird to be a human. Nobody ever knew how to deal with that—or cared enough to try. Sure, humans and monsters lived in harmony, but moments like this always exposed the cracks. Always something missing, always some cruel joke, always another reminder of where he didn’t fit.
“This should help.” Tenna closed his eyes, channeling energy through his hands. A soft green glow sparked and healed the cut instantly.
“How… how did you do that?” Spamton touched his forehead. No scar, nothing.
“Some humans can learn magic. I never really cared before, but I figured healing spells might be worth it.”
“Oh… because of the soul, right?”
“Maybe. Honestly, I’m not sure if that’s what it is. Can’t monsters use magic?”
“Not that I know of…”
“Then I hope I’m always around so no one can hurt that pretty face.” Tenna brushed his thumb across Spamton’s cheek.
Spamton might have had a comeback or a pun, but it was lost in those gray eyes looking at him with such tenderness. His breath caught as their faces drew closer, and for once he stopped questioning if he deserved this. Their lips met in a kiss full of feeling.
The world seemed to stop. No birds, no wind, nothing but Tenna’s warmth against him—the pauses between kisses, the soft grip of his hand on the back of Spamton’s neck.
---
After spending the afternoon at the lake, Tenna had one more surprise in store. This time Spamton drove, taking a road he knew by heart: they were headed to his favorite restaurant. The perfect way to end the day.
The car sped along as they sang with the radio, tossing ideas back and forth about future show segments. Spamton felt the music fuel his speed—until the broadcast suddenly cut.
“Aw, come on! Right at the best part.” Spamton tapped the wheel of his Cungadero.
“Wait, I want to hear this.” Tenna turned the volume up.
“A human body was found lifeless on the east highway. The perpetrator is still unknown, but residents report seeing a monster near the scene. The victim, not yet identified, suffered severe mutilations to the torso. Authorities ask drivers to stay alert and report any suspicious activity immediately.”
The voice repeated the message one more time before the music came back like nothing had happened. Tenna’s shoulders tensed, and he tried to relax them.
“Good thing we live in the next city over.” Spamton muttered, trying to lighten the mood.
“That’s horrible. What kind of monster could’ve done that?”
“Why assume it was a monster? Just because someone saw one nearby?”
Tenna hesitated. He didn’t want to pick a fight—but deep down, he already believed it. School lessons always stressed the potential danger of monsters. Dating one didn’t erase the risks, but Spamton had a point. Even if it was unlikely, a human could’ve been responsible.
“Well… if it happened in another city, maybe we should just stay out of it.” He switched the radio station, steering the conversation away.
Spamton said nothing more, keeping his eyes on the road. The sunset was far too beautiful to ruin with a pointless argument.