Chapter Text
Ok, so maybe Spamton wasn’t built for fame or for selling things. It hurts to admit, even now, but at least the small Addison was able to find something else he was good at.
Machines.
Cars, lights, electronics, it didn’t matter. Spam could take anything mechanical apart and put it back together with ease.
He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but working with his hands put his mind at ease. He liked prying things apart, seeing how they worked, and fixing broken items. Hell, he even tinkers with his own creations when in the mood.
It was a surprise to be approached in his crappy little mechanic studio in Cyber City and be asked to come to TV World as the newest member of the maintenance crew. But it was a welcome opportunity. To leave the city. To do something. To be a part of something bigger.
Today is his first day.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
One advantage of being smaller is being able to squeeze into places nobody else can, both under things and up above. Currently, he’s carefully balanced on a ladder on one of the catwalk platforms to get a look at the stage lights. Spamton adjusts the light from his headlamp for a better look.
Tangles of old wires, chipping pieces, melted color slides. Spam clicks his tongue against his teeth. Instead of one problem, there were multiple. Far too many to fix. It’d be cheaper to just replace the parts.
Hopping down, he uses a rusty steel ladder to climb down from the platform with a wince. Another safety violation. Man, this studio hasn’t had any good maintenance in years. He only relaxes once his boots hit solid wood. At least the floors are still in decent shape.
Running a hand through his hair, Spamton pushes back a stray cowlick before he starts rummaging through his toolbox. He calls out over his shoulder, “Yo, Battat! Ya got any spare parts for the stage lights?! If not, we’re gonna need ta order ‘em! Those lights are too busted to clean up, be cheaper ta replace the broken parts!”
He pauses when he can hear a very heavy sigh come from behind him. The green Pippins comes into sight with visible bags under his eyes, “We have a couple boxes of old stage light parts. Tenna…” Battat lets out low sigh, “Tenna struggles with buying too much in bulk. I guess it turned out to be a good thing…this time.” That last part is whispered.
Spamton pulls on a pair of black electrician gloves with a suave smile, “Well, if ya can get me those parts, I should be able ta replace everything.”
Battat nods once before reaching up to his earpiece to ask for the box. He walks away mumbling to himself. Not unusual for the dice monster. So, the Addison just goes back to work on what he could.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tenna didn’t mind moving heavier items for the staff. He understands that most of his staff are smaller Darkners. Only he himself, the Shadowguys, and the Zappers are large enough to move most of the stage supplies. So, when a call comes in asking for a box of stage light parts, Tenna didn’t think twice about grabbing it himself.
It was later in the day after his live performances. So, the TV host is only in his button-up shirt and slacks. He rolls up the sleeves and grabs the box. Walking down the hall humming low in his chest, Tenna spots a staff member closing a circuit box. A maintenance guy then.
Tenna’s pace slows as he takes in the looks of his newest staff member. They’d never been introduced with all of the paperwork and interview having been done by Mike.
This Darkner is filthy with oil stains and dust marking up his plain red t-shirt and jeans. Some of his white feathers are also stained. The pointed nose and short, feathery tail tell Tenna that this Darkner is an Addison.
Although, he’s never seen an Addison with their eyes open.
Dark brown eyes scan down a handwritten list and a pencil held in a gloved hand marks something off. Rich, black hair is slicked back into a mullet except for one cowlick that curls out. Even from a distance, it looks soft and well-maintained.
Tenna’s “gaze” drifts down styled sideburns, a pristine neck, until it gets to the body of the Darkner. His screen turns slightly pink.
Addisons are built for marketing. They’re supposed to be tall and lean. This Addison is shorter, but also bulkier. He has a thick core, a thicker chest, and muscular arms that seem to fight against the tightness of the short sleeve. And his bottom half.
Oh, Angel help Tenna, this Darkner’s bottom half.
Thick thighs and a perky, fat ass. He could probably cup that ass in one hand. Massage it while playing with that cute little tail in the othe—focus! Focus, Tenna.
The TV host shakes his head quickly. He can cozy up to the new guy soon enough. He has a task to complete.
He starts to continue his walk when the Darkner stuffs the paper into his jeans and notices the large TV. Tenna jumps a little when a loud voice, tinged with a Cyber City accent, calls out to him and the smaller Addison rushes over, “Give that! You don’t gotta be lugging stuff around, Super Star.”
Tenna blushes as the Addison takes the box from his hands. His tail wags wildly behind him, his nose itching telling him that a flower is threatening to bloom, and he allows the box to leave his hands with a soft “o-okay”.
It is a struggle for Tenna to not swoon. He’s a large TV. Nobody does gentlemanly acts like taking something heavy for him. Yet this Addison did. And calling him a super star without needing to be prompted? Angel, Tenna needs to get this Darkner’s name.
The smaller Darkner turns around and asks over his shoulder as he walks, “Where are we going with this?”
Tenna admires how those muscles flex under white, downy feathers. He coos with a wobbly smile, “Lot 3.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Spamton can feel his arms trembling, but it’s not entirely due to the heavy weight of the box. His face is flushed a bright red.
Dear Angel, he spoke to Mr. Tenna.
He spoke. To Mr. Ant Tenna.
Without even stuttering!
And took a heavy box from the big boss like you would for a dame! That could’ve gone so wrong. Luckily, the TV star didn’t seem to mind. Spamton takes a few deep breaths to try and calm his racing heart.
All Addisons knew about TV Time, watched the show, and adored Mr. Tenna. To just get to work with him was a dream come true, but to actually speak to him and do tasks with him? It’s almost heavenly.
Spamton sends up a silent prayer that he doesn’t mess this up. That he can get in good with a celebrity like Tenna. And maybe, just maybe, he could even become the TV host’s friend.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It is taking everything in Spamton to not scream in rage right now.
His table saw. His BRAND-NEW TABLE SAW…is currently covered in slime.
The Addison is clutching the table, shaking in fury, with Tenna right behind him. He threw up a hand and hissed through his teeth, “See, this is what I was telling ya! Who is giving the Pippins slime?! They get it everywhere! Were they trying to table saw goop?!”
Tenna timidly chuckles with a finger near his mouth, “S-slime? Oopsie…” He suddenly drops his finger, and his voice takes on a confused tone, “Wait, d-do you have your hair in a ponytail?”
Spamton whirls around with a frustrated huff, “Well yeah!! It’s good safety practice! I shouldn’t be letting ya near the saw with that tie and tailcoat.”
A coy smile curls on the TV’s face, a flower blooming on the end of his nose, as he gasps, “Mr. Spamton! Safety is important but I’m still your boss!”
The Addison’s mind immediately flashes to an image of Tenna without any clothes on his upper body. His feathers instinctively puff out and a loud snap rings out. Welp, there goes another hair tie. Sacrificed to his dirty daydreams.
Spamton turns away and covers his face. He waves at Tenna with one gloved hand, “W-whateveh, jus’ ha-have a safety meetin’ or somethin’. Tell those diceheads to stop damagin’ my power tools, would ya?!”
He shivers when a large hand runs a clawed finger down his back and a husky voice rumbles near his head, “Anything for my little mechanic~”
Tenna’s footsteps get quieter as he leaves the room. Spamton shoves his face in his hands and groans. He is so screwed.
He has a huge crush on the one Darkner that he swore to himself that he wouldn’t fall for. Mr. Ant Tenna…how could a nobody, maintenance man possibly get together with a big shot like that?
No, they are friends now. He should be content with what they have. Not look too-deeply into basic interactions to feed his faint hope that someone like him could grab the attention of someone like Tenna.
Spamton wipes away some tears pricking his eyes. Time to get back to work.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tenna is over the moon.
His little test went swimmingly! He’s positive that the small Addison is interested in him!
Now, it was time to put his courting plan into motion. Tenna had managed to convince, aka bribe, an Addison to tell him how Addisons court each other. It turned out to be both simple and complicated. Nests, dances, touches to the back, and shiny trinkets as gifts.
Tenna giggles to himself as he makes his way into his studio-connected apartment. A little nest for Spammy to rest in during breaks surely couldn’t hurt…ok, maybe not so little. He needed to be able to fit inside it after all.
Oh! Maybe he could show it to Spamton after a date as a surprise! Then, they’d be able to cuddle up and snuggle as a nice, relaxing end to the evening.
Tail swishing behind him, Tenna gets straight to work.
He has an Addison to court.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Spamton feels like his heart is about to beat out of his chest. He stares wide-eyed at the necklace in his hands. It’s a gold chain with a simple ruby pendant shaped like a flower. Something simple that could be easily hidden underneath a shirt.
His eyes snapped up to his boss, his face hot with a blush and lips in a wobbly yet uncertain smile. Tenna is smiling brightly with his antennae curled around each other, “I’m so happy you like it, Spammy~. Now, I’d like to ask you a SUPER IMPORTANT question.”
The small Addison starts to breath a little too fast. He rasps out, “T-tenna?”
Tenna bows a bit and extends his hand out in a gentlemanly pose before asking softly, “Spamton, would you do me the honor of going out to dinner with me tonight?”
What happened next felt like something straight out of a romance show. Heart and yes popups explode out around Spamton as he stutters and stumbles before giving up and just nodding. The Addison squeaks a bit as he gets scooped up in metallic arms.
Tenna swings him around a few times with a flower blooming bright on the tip of his nose, “Oh thank you Spammy! You won’t regret this! I need to go get ready. I’ll see you at the door at 6!”
It’s currently 2 o’clock. Why would he need four hours to—nevermind. It would be very in character for Tenna to need four hours to get ready for a date. This does clear up why the day was cut early.
Tenna cut the workday early to go on a date…with him…Spamton hides his face in his hands despite nobody else being around. His face is burning, it feels so hot. Holy Angel…he can’t believe a Darkner like Mr. Ant Tenna would want him.
Shaking his head, Spamton rushes off towards the break room lockers. He should have a suit there. One he kept around in case of any last minute fancy meetings or parties as the citizens of both TV and Cyber World were prone to throwing.
He just hopes it’ll be nice enough.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tenna waits by the door of the studio for a few minutes, humming happily to himself, before the sound of small feet pounding on the floor reaches his antennae.
Spamton, in a simple black and white suit, skids to a halt in front of him panting, “S-sorry, I’m a l-little late. Lemme j-just do somethin’ real quick before we go.”
The TV host watches with intrigue as the mechanic put an elastic tie in his mouth before gathering up the black locks around his neck up. Spam smiles at him a little awkwardly, “Ish’ na that es’itin’.”
It’s not that interesting?! Says the Darkner who actually has hair! Tenna coos, “It is! I’m jealous! You get to have hair!”
Spamton grunts out, “Ish’ feddas!” He finishes the ponytail with quick movements of his hands before huffing out again, “They’re feathers. I have feathers all over my body. A-are you ready to go?”
Tenna can’t hold back anymore. He scoops up his little mechanic in his arms with a big grin. The Addison looks so handsome in the suit and with his hair pulled back. A nagging urge to bat at the ponytail like usual wells up, but the CRT ignores the urge.
Right now, they have a date to go on.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The restaurant is a nice Italian place. They settled into a booth towards the back. Cozy and private. Exactly how Tenna wants it to be.
They both have waters, and fancy whiskey cocktails to tide them over while they looked over the menu.
Spamton looks a little down and out of place from where he sat on the opposite side of the table. That’s alright, his birdie would get used to this special treatment once they became official.
Still, Tenna reaches out to place his larger hand over the smaller, white one which makes the smaller Darkner jump. He speaks low and soft to soothe ruffled feathers, “Do you see a meal you’d like to order?”
Spamton chews on his lower lip but speaks just as quietly, “I-I…I don’t know, star. I, ah, can’t afford most of these dishes.”
A hand seizes the Addison’s and lifts the little white hand up to staticky lips. They cause a shiver to run up Spam’s spine as they brush against his hand with each word, “Don’t worry about that, my little mechanic~, I’ll take care of the bill tonight. All you need to do is be here and look handsome for me~”
Pale skin turns bright red with a sudden flush. Feathers start sticking up a little bit and Spamton draws his hand away. He faintly whispers, “Okay…” He picks up the menu but still picks a cheaper dish with meat-stuffed ravioli. Tenna gets one of the most expensive dishes with a steak and scallops paired with alfredo pasta.
They chat lightly while waiting for their food. Safe topics like the show, the sets, and upcoming projects. Then, Spamton asks in a mumble, “Why did you ask me out? I mean, you’re the Mr. Ant Tenna! You could probably have anyone you want! So…why waste time with a nobody like me?”
Tenna lightly frowns, “Spammy, you’re not a nobody. Not to me. You do so much for me and for the studio. And,” He reaches out to take both of Spam’s hands into his own and leans in close, “I’m alright with not having a celebrity partner. You don’t need to be famous for me to care about you. Besides, if you’re not famous, that means that I can keep you ALL to myself~”
Spamton huffs which turns into a disbelieving chuckle, his face completely red with embarrassment, “Y-you are…something else, Super Star.” He pushes Tenna’s grinning face away as their food arrives.
Ravioli is a classic dish, one that feels more like home to Spam, but he wouldn’t lie and say that Tenna’s meal doesn’t smell delicious or enticing. He tries to hide this by carefully cutting up his own food. Unfortunately for his pride, Tenna seems to notice anyways.
With a smaller smile, Tenna cuts a piece of the steak off which would be comically small for himself and holds it out on his fork towards his date. He teases with a mischievous smile, “C’mon, Spammy~, I know you want to try it~”
Oh, Tenna adores that sweet, red flush on his little mechanic’s face. He watches with a large smile as Spamton hesitantly leans forward after a rapid glance around to see if anyone is watching. That cute, shy expression turns into one of bliss accompanied by a satisfied hum.
The TV Darkner’s tail thumps against the leg of the chair. He’s so happy to see the small Addison enjoying some real food. Spamton tended to eat mostly junk and pre-made food rather than anything freshly cooked. With a happy hum, Tenna offers a piece of scallop next which the other readily tastes.
At the next soft coo, Spam gulped down the mouthful and nervously chuckled, “Alright, alright, no more, Ant. We’re, uh, s-still in public, ya know?”
Well, Tenna would back down this time if only because Spamton called him by his first name. But he silently vows to help his lover adjust to more public displays of his affection. The mechanic deserves the best treatment and to be utterly spoiled. So, he just sighs lovingly, “I suppose, my little dove.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The rest of dinner goes smoothly. Tenna insists on sharing a tiramisu for dessert which Spamton concedes to. Then, they step out into the chilly breeze that seems to always inhabit TV World. A large hand settles on a comparatively tiny shoulder. The TV host’s words are gentle, “I have something I’d like to show you at my apartment. If you want to call it a night here though, that’s okay.”
Spamton chews on his lower lip before glancing up at his partner’s screen with a shy smile, “I-I’d like to see it. I’d have to see it soon anyways since we’re, um, r-romantic partners no—ah!”
He’s scooped up into warm, metallic arms yet again. Spam squirms in the hold with a quiet whine. Tenna seems a bit oblivious to this as he rambles while walking back towards the studio.
He's been touched so much today...it’s something he’s definitely not used to anymore. It’s been years since he was held and cuddled like this. Before he had to worry about sales and numbers, when the only thing that was of concern was getting a warm meal and staying tucked underneath the feathers of his siblings in place of a layer.
Spamton holds back more whines. His feathers fluffing up with all his overwhelming feelings, the primary being bewildered joy. He knows Tenna said he didn’t mind having a non-famous partner, but it still made him feel a little off, not being able to quite wrap his head around it. He tries to settle into the warmth and ignore the nagging feeling of doubt in the back of his head.
With how large Tenna grew from the proclamation, about fifteen feet tall, it took them little time to arrive back at the studio. What took longer was the TV Darkner calming down enough to shrink back down to about ten feet to fit into the doors. At least Spamton was put down for the wait, it gave him a little time to calm his racing heart.
They walk briskly through the familiar halls of TV Time Studio towards a distinctly different wooden door, a rich brown rather than red or gold. Tenna snaps his fingers and the door unlocks with a soft click. The Addison is ushered inside with a careful hand. They walk together into the bedroom area.
Spamton’s face, already red and a little nervous from anticipation, goes slack when he spots it. On the bed, there’s a neatly made nest of pillows and blankets. Spritz of both their colognes, (when did Tenna swipe his?), mingle together in the fabric. His bird-based brain chants “he wants me”, “he wants me”, “fuck, he wants me”. It changes to mate, breed, want, need.
Eyes going half-lidded, his feathers fluff out again but this time to pump out sweet pheromones. Crawling onto the bed and into the nest, Spamton examines the work done with careful fingers. It’s well-woven like a nest an actual Addison would make. Soft, warm, all Spam feels the need to adjust is a few of the pillows down for added support. A true testament to Tenna’s skills. Any Addison would agree that it’d be foolish to reject such a perfectly done nest.
Letting out a purr-like noise, Spamton turns to where Tenna stands waiting for approval. Aw, what a sweet mate for waiting so patiently. He moves to a position where he’s lounging on his side with his torso propped up. He coos, “I love it, Tens. Thank you for making it for me.” He bites his lower lip and shifts his hips in a way he hopes is enticing, “C’mon…don’t leave me alone in this big nest~”
Tenna’s antennae curls into a heart. His smile is wide as he cheers, “Oh, I’m so glad you like it, Spammy~! It took quite some time to make. Hang on, let’s get our shoes and outerwear off first.”
They both quickly removed their shoes, jackets, and accessories until all that remained were button-ups, slacks, and socks. Spam’s purr grows as his mate crawls into the nest with him. He can feel his boxers getting wet, the beginning of his tendril sliding out, as he takes in the robotic Darkner next to him.
This’ll be—huh? Spamton lets out a soft confused sound when he’s lifted up and placed down on Tenna’s chest. The arms around him are holding him firmly down. Their faces are fairly close at this angle. Oh! Does Tenna want to kiss for a bit first? That’s fine. With a hazy smile, Spam holds the warm edges of the CRT in front of him and leans in with puckered lips.
He sighs into the kiss. Static buzzing against his own lips, they kiss chastely a few times. It was nice, but it wasn’t enough. Spamton grunts, he squirms out of Tenna’s grip and smirks down at him with his tail wagging, “Aaaaaant~, you can be a little rougher with me, ya know? I won’t break~” He runs a hand down the warm metal of his partner’s chest.
He can feel himself dripping from both his tendril and slit. He can feel the tentacle writhing around in the fabric, looking for any friction. His slit aches, it tries to clamp down on nothing. Angel, he wants those large hands back on him. Leaning in, Spamton moves Tenna’s hands to his hips as he seals their lips together.
His tongue pushes insistently against larger lips. It slips inside with a gasp from Tenna. Using his hold on his head, Spam tugs until they can kiss while he grinds down. He gives a gasp of his own. Oh, oh Angel, he needs that giant cock inside him. Whining loudly, he pulls back from the kiss and grinds down harder. He leans back on his hands with a chitter, inviting his mate to take control.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tenna could swear that he was in heaven. Being kissed by his lover and feeling another warm bulge rubbing against his own is a blissful feeling. When Spamton pulls away, Tenna also whines but it’s covered by the noise his birdie makes. He quickly regains a toothy smile as his little lover goes limp against him and exposes that pale neck in a silent plea.
Taking control, Tenna moves his hands from Spamton’s hips down to his ass. He buries his face into soft feathers to lick and bite at his lover’s neck while his hands massage the globes of fat and muscle in his hands.
Damn, touching his ass is even better than looking at it. Tenna squeezes, pulls, and lightly smacks the enticing flesh in his hands. Earning little moans and chirps with each motion. His little dove pants against him then groans as he bites down to leave his mark on his partner’s neck. Small hands tug at his button-up while a shaky voice pants out, “O-off, ngaaaah, T-tens, MMmmm, clothes o-aaaa-fffff.”
With a fang-filled smirk, Tenna shakes his head as he moves to hold Spamton’s jaw in one hand, “I don’t think so, my little dove~, I’ve been wanting this for quite a while. So, be a good boy and entertain me for a bit longer~” With that, he yanks Spam back into a fierce kiss. He can feel the small, bratty whine before his lover surrenders to the passion of the moment.
Forcing his tongue inside, Tenna laps at the warm insides of his lover’s mouth. It tastes faintly like the sweet coffee from the tiramisu. Twisting their tongues together, the TV host takes his time mapping out Spamton’s mouth. Testing and noting which swipes of his tongue got the biggest shivers or the loudest moans.
They split apart with a string of spit still connecting them. Spamton broke it by licking his lips after taking some gasping breaths. Oops, right, Addisons need to breathe air. Tenna smiled sheepishly, but he keeps his controlling grip on his lover’s ass. He moves the other’s hips down while he thrusts up to grind against the growing wet spot appearing on those fancy slacks. Hooking his claws around the waistband, Tenna tilts his head and speaks with an innocent voice that clashes badly with his very non-innocent grin, “Ready for more, my little mechanic~?”