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“Would you like to spend the holidays with me?”
Tenna utters the words with calm nonchalance and cheer, just like anything he’d say on air. Or blurts it out more likely because Tenna has no idea what compels him to say that to the small businessman with black dyed hair sharing the Green Room sofa with him.
The Christmas season has just rolled around, which means a busy time for the network. With all the Christmas specials going on, and the special TV game show extravaganza, he’s been swamped with work, but per promises of his producers, he knew everything would be taped and done by Christmas. Right on schedule.
Employees cheered at the chance to skip out on work to be with their families, their loved ones. He remembers Elnino and Elnina getting especially excited to spend the holidays together, trying to pick out the best Christmas tree. But Tenna frankly didn’t know what to do with himself.
Without work to occupy him, Tenna always found himself alone during the festivities. He’d attend a workplace Christmas party here or there, sure, but he’d never have anyone over at his house. Tenna’s usual Christmas was spent watching the network’s Christmas movies with the highest ratings and baking gingerbread cookies.
Maybe a butterscotch pie should he feel particularly down about his predicament.
Granted, he knew exactly why he was like this in the first place. The loneliness was self-inflicted, and he knew that perfectly well. But in pursuit of more fame, more popularity, of even higher ratings, sacrifices have to be made, and relationships were always the first ones to go.
Tenna would do and sacrifice anything to grow in popularity and keep his place at the top. To stay relevant and brand new. Even if he threw a Christmas party for his friends and employees, he knew what it would turn into. Not a family-style gathering, but a networking event instead
TV was always better at preaching family values than actually upholding them.
It was painful, but Tenna knew it couldn’t be helped. Business is business, and he didn’t need to have a happy holiday surrounded by people he cared about. It might’ve upset him, but the holidays came and went, right? They’d pass eventually. Which is why Tenna asking his new associate and friend, Spamton G. Spamton, to spend the holidays with him is odd.
Spamton and he hadn’t known each other very long, at least not this closely. A few years ago, Spamton was just the guy delivering fan mail and trying to advertise his or his friends’ businesses, failing miserably at that. A dorky short Addison with red cheeks and white hair and a cute, but awkward personality.
They would exchange a few words, sometimes veering off into small talk or more before the TV world needed Tenna’s attention again. However, recently that dynamic’s shifted.
With his move to Cyber City, Spamton didn’t gain much popularity initially, although Tenna still found him useful when he needed to understand the new technology around him.
He didn’t really get emails. They weren’t as personalized and heartwarming as regular mail, but if his viewers found it easier to send him fan mail that way, he accepted it. More letters to read off at the end of a live show segment is a good thing.
But all that changed, and suddenly Spamton started gaining traction. Tenna was the first to see it, the sudden grin, the spring in his step.
“He was finally making it big!” He said “He didn’t have to deliver just mail anymore to make ends meet!” He added. Tenna was happy for him.
Spamton was finally the Addison he wanted to be.
Spam eventually even got to hang out with his crowd, the elite he always wanted to be a part of. And he looked up to Antenna, God, did he look up to him. Tenna was sure it was not a coincidence that they wore the same brand of suits and ties.
And Tenna gave him tips and tricks, taught him the trade. Helped lift the guy up, just like Spamton had helped him. He might’ve done so to get some tricks out of Spamton at a later date, but…that’s irrelevant. Tenna didn’t do anything without getting something out of it later. That’s just showbiz.
And now, both of them were at the top… and yet Tenna was sure that he wasn’t the only one spending the holidays alone.
Spamton looked at him, hesitant. He pushed those two-toned glasses resting on his nose up, his pink and yellow eyes meeting Tenna’s gaze.
“Uhhhh, why do you [[ASK MANAGEMENT]]?” It was the question Tenna didn’t know the answer to himself. So he shrugged, smiling just as usual, trying to play it off as a normal question
“Oh, I was just wondering…are you spending time with someone else?” Spam looked at him, as if debating on how to respond. There was a twitch in his fingers, and he looked away briefly, his eyebrows furrowed. It was the most contemplative that he had seen the Addison in a while. Usually, he was more chatty than this, more outwardly arrogant in a way that only a person with an inflated ego could get. More like Tenna, the TV supposes.
“Yeah, I’m thinking about [Call me! On a line!] my family back in Cyber City, you know?” Tenna knew, although based on the way Spam spoke of his family in the past, he wasn’t sure if his many siblings wanted to even hear from him. As far as he knew, they weren’t on good terms. Still, it wasn’t Tenna’s job to prod at what was Spamton’s family drama. He had the reality TV channel for that. So he just smiled, took a few sips from his coffee cup, and leaned back on the sofa.
He would be on air in a few minutes anyway, so it was best to cut this conversation short.
“Well, the offer’s on the table! Feel free to visit, my little spammy mail” Tenna said cheerfully. He was expecting Spamton to roll his eyes and give him a pouty look like always whenever Tenna used that nickname.
However, Spam didn’t do that. Instead, he stared back at him, very closely, as if Tenna had said something strange. Sensing the Addison’s distress, as if trying to reassure him that everything would be okay, Tenna smiled and placed a firm hand on Spam’s shoulder.
The Addison didn’t respond, but gave him a small thumbs up as Tenna walked off to go on stage and start the evening show.
Even so, as Tenna flashed the audience his signature grin, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of loneliness as he stood on stage. As if the offer being turned down made him feel a little emptier than before.
——————————————————————
Unsurprisingly, Tenna spends his Christmas alone.
The pre-recorded version of the Christmas special that he starred in is playing on the TV in his apartment. Several gameshow contests, a cooking segment with delicious Christmas dinner recipes, a few comedy skits with well known actors and currently a movie marathon featuring the most popular Christmas movies along with that one terrible movie about the kid forgotten about by his family and stuck in New York that Tenna dislikes but tolerates for the sake of the holiday spirit.
They’re occasionally interrupted by ad breaks featuring Spamton, and for some reason, he can’t bear himself to look at them whenever they show up on the screen, ducking into the kitchen to check on the pie and lowering the volume, so he doesn’t have to hear his business partner’s voice.
A part of him doesn’t feel like a star in his apartment. He doesn’t feel like a million bucks or a TV show host with an enthusiastic audience. He’s wearing sweatpants, loafers, and an expensive robe, baking a butterscotch pie against all tradition and spending his holidays alone with nobody to talk to, nobody to share this occasion with. It’s barely a holiday at all. Outside, the wind howls with snow covering the entirety of TV world in a thick puff of white. Even through closed windows, the chill creeps into all his wires.
He wonders what Spamton is doing right now, if his family is sitting, eating Christmas dinner, talking about ads, or whatever it is they can talk about in Cyber City. He never visited without Spamton. Cyber City was always too overwhelming. He couldn’t understand any of it, even with Spamton’s assistance. Tenna is sure that if it wasn’t for the Addison, he would get lost within 10 minutes and run to his home and back to TV world.
The egg timer used for baking rings, and Tenna checks up on the pie. Gingerguard cookies sit on the tray right below it in the oven. The smell that permeates the air, the scent of cinnamon and sweetness, soothes his mind and eases the feeling in his wires.
As the cookies cool off in the oven, he goes to the living room and sits on his purple couch, watching the movie as it comes back on from the ad break. The overrated one about being stuck alone with all the freedom that you could ever want, and yet it’s not the same as spending time with family.
He wonders what it’s like. Christmas with family. He doesn’t remember his own childhood very well.
Just as he pulls the blanket over his legs on the couch he barely fits on, he hears a doorbell. There is no reason for a doorbell to ring. The outside is covered in snow so thick that any Darkner who would venture into the night would freeze their hands off before they could knock. Why would anyone be at his door that late in a snowstorm? Was it a fan? He had a few insane fans, most definitely. Did he forget something at work? No, that’s not right…
Either way, he hears the doorbell ring a second time, so with a huff, he stands back up and goes to the door, unlocking it and peeking outside. The sight he sees when he opens the door catches him off guard.
Shivering and pale, Spamton stands outside. He’s still wearing his black suit jacket and white turtleneck that he saw him leave work that day, his dual colored glasses making him stand out along with a pastel pink shopping bag.
He’s covered in snow from head to toe with a numb expression on his face, and when Tenna squints, he can see the subtle redness under his business partner’s eyes. His fingers shake and tremble from the icy air. There’s a sadness to him that runs through his posture and his entire body language, and even though neither of them says anything for a few minutes, just standing there, for some reason, Tenna knows what’s happened to his friend.
“You said I could [[visit now!]] any time…is that [BRAND new offer!!]] still on the table?” Spamton says with a chuckle, trying to force that positive, infomercial voice into his tone. His grin, usually so warm, doesn’t reach his eyes. So Tenna opens the door for him. Who would he be to close the door on his friend on a cold night?
The Addison dusts off the white snow from his outfit and comes in. He still treks some of it inside, but Tenna can forgive it just once. The Addison’s large nose is tinted red at the end, and he sneezes as he comes in. Tenna has to suppress a laugh at that, ruffling the Addison’s damp hair despite Spamton swatting it away.
“Are you watching the Christmas movie marathon special on a different channel? I thought it already ended.” Spamton asks after taking off his shoes. They give him an extra two inches in height, so Tenna shrinks a bit to preserve their height difference. He already intimidates Spamton enough with how tall Tenna can make himself look.
“I have it recorded, like with everything we produce. I can rewatch it anytime…“ Tenna shrugs as he closes the door behind him. Thank Lightners for TiVo. Spamton enters the living room and sits himself down on the couch like he owns the place. The atmosphere is different, though, because while they’ve hung out before…they were never alone. Never in such an intimate space, Tenna’s apartment, for god’s sake.
”Do you like gingerguard cookies?” For lack of anything else to say, he asks. Spamton looks at him strangely, before letting out a light-hearted chuckle as he wipes his glasses with a lopsided grin.
“You can bake?” His voice is playful, and if Tenna had eyes to roll, he would.
“Gingerdarkners and some butterscotch pie. I have a weakness for sweets.” He says as he pops into the kitchen. He feels the white Addison observing him from the couch.
“You know that about me. Every time you bring those CD bagels from Cable City, I can’t help but eat them up.” Tenna snaps his fingers, in some gameshow host mannerism that stays even back in the comfort of his home.
“You sure do. I’ve seen you devour chocolate rollups before. Nobody could resist Swatch’s treats, though” Spamton leans back and pulls a blanket over himself comfortably. He then glances back at Tenna “Also, it’s Cyber City, not Cable City.”
Tenna’s about to laugh again when he remembers one particular thing he did that week relating to holidays that wasn’t just him sulking in his apartment and wistfully sighing at while looking out the window at the snow. He struggles to look for it for a minute, searching the different drawers in the kitchen, before he eventually finds what he’s looking for.
Once he enters the living room, where Spamton is waiting, and after he sets the cookies on the coffee table, he hands it over.
A Hallmark Christmas card with a personalized message and a few doodles inside. Nothing fancy, just something cheesy and sentimental. Something he got from the cash register at the local shop. He smiles a little to himself, just looking at it.
“I got you a card. Thought you might like it,” he chuckles as Spamton takes it from him. He turns it over in his hands, glancing at the Christmasy imagery, the sparkly gold cursive text. He looks baffled, before the corners of his lips quirk up into his signature smirk. A little light seems to return to his unique eyes as he plays with the corner of the card.
“What?” He snorts with a laugh as he waves the card back in Tenna’s face, “That’s stupid, Tenna, you [aware of these awesome dealz!] that I don’t like [you’ve got mail!]. I used to be the email guy!”
“Just take it.” The game show host retorts as he takes Spamton’s glasses to put them away at the coffee table. “Come on, it’s personalized! Right from your friend, good ol’ Mr. Ant Tenna.” He teases, and Spamton takes to it like a natural.
“Pfft, dumb [[CRT]] and his analog. Giving me his damn [snail mail].” Tenna swears one day he’ll get Spam to appreciate the old classics of the TV world.
“Yeah, yeah… what’s in the bag?” He bites into one of his gingerdarkner cookies, pointing to the bag Spamton came in with. Spamton seems to pause for a minute before he snaps back in the moment and hands it over.
“I uhh…got you [[lootbox!]] too,” he fidgets with the collar of his turtleneck as Tenna takes the bag.
“Felt [weird!] showing up and not bringing anything as a [token of appreciation!]. I expected a [party rockers in the]] since… well, you’re you.” He looks nervous, and Tenna can’t help but look at the former mailman in amusement.
“Not doing the party this year, I’m too tired. What did you bring?” He hums as he pulls the thing from inside the bag.
It’s a gift basket.
Tenna very quickly picks up on the fact that his previous assessment, that Spamton didn’t plan to come over to his place first, is reinforced when he sees the inside of the gift basket. There’s a ripped off tag to the recipient with only letters P & A still visible with the rest deliberately ripped off. But there’s… something else interesting about it too.
The gift basket feels... impersonal. He may not know Spamton’s siblings as well as he pretends to, but by the things inside it, it doesn’t seem like Spamton knows them either. As if he was actually struggling to scramble something together.
There’s no theme to it, and he knows how much aesthetics matter to the Addisons. Bottles of perfume, two boxes of chocolates, a small TV figurine, slime stress toys, tea packets, a bottle of expensive wine, and a few tabloid edition magazines. None of it feels cohesive.
Even so, even if by sheer coincidence, Tenna finds that he loves it. “Oh, a gift basket, how cute… What is this?” He points at a small object inside, pulling it out of the basket. Spamton seems to light up when he does.
“It’s a pipis”
“…A what?”
“Pipis. It’s pipis”
It clarifies nothing, and Tenna briefly wonders if it’s a Spamton-specific thing or just an internet thing he doesn’t understand. He has to ask himself that a lot when dealing with his business partner.
“Okay, weird” he shrugs. Whatever implication he sent his way, Spamton seems offended.
“It’s not weird! It’s [[premium quality]] and it’s a [tamagotchi!!] for your life!” He waves his small arms emphatically. Despite his height, Spamton’s energy more than makes up for it. Like an energetic little maus.
“Looks like one of the groovy slime toys that I sell at the gift shop.” Tenna hums as he pokes at the blue thing. It’s sort of squishy and looks like a weird mix between a clam and an egg. It’s kind of cute if you look at it from a certain angle, and it looks like it’s…breathing? That admittedly scares him more than anything else about it.
„Don’t compare MY [CHARITY]] to your [stay gooby] slime!” Spamton shouts like an angry little pipsqueak. Tenna gasps dramatically, falling back on the couch.
“It’s groovy!” He corrects as he pokes the Addison on the nose, “You should see how well it sells!” He adds, and Spamton, despite trying to pout, fails to bite back a grin.
“I don’t doubt it.” He responds casually, leaning back as Tenna sets the gift basket on the coffee table “I don’t doubt it, Tenna”
“I’ll keep it. Thanks for the gift.” He ruffles the mailman’s hair again, more to the Addison’s annoyance. Something wants to tell him he looked better with his natural hair color… he doesn’t say anything.
“…I [thinking cap]] you’d be with your [[for the whole family] or something…” Spamton asks quietly as he looks around. “…seeing as it’s…you know…” Tenna pretends his body doesn’t suddenly feel cold and that his face doesn’t have the faintest overlay of TV static across it.
“Oh yeah, well… family, friends…” He plays with one of his metal antennas, unsure of where to go from here. “They’ve all got their own business to deal with. It gets a bit… lonely… but I don’t need them to enjoy the holidays.”
He says. He lies knowingly. As if Tenna doesn’t crave the feeling of that kind of attention, that companionship. He sees that his lie doesn’t quite land, and Spamton very obviously doesn’t believe him. But he doesn’t confront him either.
“How about we drink some of this wine you brought me, hmm?” The static dissipates as Tenna tries to take his mind off things, “Swatch always has the good stuff,” Color Cafe classics. The wine is top shelf, and the game show host is pleasantly surprised that the flavor is to his liking.
“Thanks,” Spamton sighs, and the gameshow host is more than eager to bring out two wine glasses for them to enjoy. Tenna at least takes a minute to savor the drink after he pours himself a glass, Spamton has no qualms in downing the whole thing in one go, despite scrunching his face at the bitterness. It becomes clear that the conversation is not gonna get any less awkward unless the elephant in the room gets addressed.
“…So what happened?” Spamton glances at Tenna as he asks, and there’s the slightest bit of panic and tension in his body. His fingers tighten around the wine glass.
“…What do you mean?” He asks as Tenna pours him another glass.
“Come on, Spamton. Your clothes look ruffled, and you’re colder than you would be if you spent just a short walk from your flat to mine.” The White Addison grips the couch, digging his hands into the cushion. “You’ve been outside for a long time… so I can only assume that you weren’t coming straight towards my house?”
There’s a sudden tension weighing down on the two of them. Tenna waits for Spamton to speak up and spill his emotional guts out to him, but none of that happens. Instead, the Addison only seems to shut down.
“…Were you at your family’s place?” Tenna eventually says, making himself more comfortable on the sofa as he sips. A few agonizingly long minutes pass before the little salesman speaks up again.
“…I was.” He admits as if it weren’t obvious. He takes a large gulp of the wine, pouring himself some more. “We got into a bad fight.”
“Thought so” he brushes back his antennas, waiting for his partner to continue, patiently.
“Kept being [someone’s jealoussss] of my success…” Spamton mumbles into his wine glass, eyes half-lidded as a subtle frown graces his face, in a way it doesn’t belong. Spamton never frowns, and in Tenna’s opinion, he never should.
“…I don’t understand. Why can’t they be happy for me?” It takes the gameshow host a second to realize the question is actually directed at him. And Tenna, who’s cut everyone out of his life to end up where he is right now, has no idea how to answer.
“Well, when you get to the top, people start to resent you for it, it’s natural.” The words slip out of his mouth with forced live TV-like charisma, the kind of grin that pulls on the corners of his mouth and stretches uncomfortably, “I’ve lost several friends over it.” Haha, the audience would love that joke.
“How do you cope with this loneliness?” The heartache the little salesman seems to be going through tears through Tenna’s heart like a spear. And again, he feels a lump in his throat. Is he coping?
“Well…cookies help, and so does knowing why it happens.” He answers lamely. Spamton gives him a deadpan look, to which Tenna can only helplessly smile. The salesman sighs before reaching over to take one of the holiday cookies from Tenna’s face. He turns it round in his hand, and Tenna chuckles nervously.
Reluctantly, his partner takes a bite before his eyes grow wide as he stuffs his mouth with at least two more, leaving crumbs on his lips.
“Damn, these are [[5 stars guaranteed]]!” He waves one of the half-eaten ones right in front of Tenna’s face. It’s nice to remember sometimes that Spam hasn’t always been the big shot he is, and not that long ago, he was more down-to-earth, just a mail guy.
“Thanks,” He rubs the back of his neck as his face heats up.
“You should host the cooking segment!” Spamton says excitedly, biting into another cookie with a softer smile, the red in his cheeks now more prominent.
'It’s cute', he doesn’t say. 'He’s cute.' he doesn’t even dare think.
“Oh, you flatter me. But, I’m sure Ramb has got it covered.” Tenna waved his hand dismissively as he sipped on his white wine.
“…Is this enough, though?” Spam asks again "Against the loneliness…Enough to make it stop hurting?"
The question hits hard again, but Tenna doesn't waver. He can't let himself waver on this. He bites his lip before letting his smile return.
"…I think so" the lie rolls off the tongue as well as the truth. Spamton nods and accepts it as such.
The movie fills the silence. Tenna leans back into the cushion as he savors his wine. The movie is sentimental, but bad TV if he has to say so himself. He’d practically given his blanket away to Spamton so he pulls his silky robe closer to himself. The scenes stretch out, and Tenna’s almost about to zone out entirely when-
Spamton rests his head on Tenna’s shoulder.
Well, with the height difference between the two of them, he rested it more on Tenna’s side, but the sudden proximity was there, causing Tenna’s antennae to stand upright. Tenna looks down at the White Addison, suddenly stuck to his side. His posture is a bit stiff, doll-like, as if waiting for permission. But Tenna’s more confused than anything.
“…Spammy, what are you doing?” He doesn’t push him away, hesitant about what this is. Spamton showing affection, because… that’s what this is, isn’t it?
It’s out of left field. Judging by the lack of confidence in Spamton’s differently colored eyes, he’s as unsure as Tenna is about what he’s doing.
“I-uhh-I-uhm…” he stutters as his face reddens. Tenna tries to keep his plastered on smile to keep Spamton’s from freaking out, but it’s a bit difficult.
“A-Addisons, we… we’re very clingy.” Spamton says as he pulls away, “We rely on touch a lot. Physical affection is kind of our language, which you kind of already know.”
Already know, huh? Tenna’s sure Spamton is joking because this isn’t like the Addison he knows at all. Showing affection this blatantly, it feels foreign. For as blunt and straightforward as Spam had always been, gestures of affection were always subtle and often materialistic in nature.
‘Affection’ meant buying dinner at the fanciest place in town. It meant checking out that ‘sweet breeze’ in the town’s most expensive car. It meant schmoozing guests and bouncing jokes off one another when rehearsing for their show. A pat on the shoulder, a firm handshake, never anything more. Out of the two of them, Tenna was the one for physical contact.
Or maybe Spamton was. Maybe his partner just never allowed Tenna to see that level of vulnerability. Until tonight.
“…Blue and Pink and I used to cuddle up on the couch and drink hot cocoa because the heating was really bad at our old place… despite how many times we’ve tried to fix it.” Spamton snickers at the old memory, and there’s something melancholy in his eyes. Something that pulls at Tenna’s wires and makes him soften. Vulnerability, trust... for a night, he gets to see more of Spamton than usual.
“But if you want me to stop…I can-“ Spamton stutters, but Tenna cuts him off.
“It’s okay… if you want to cuddle up to me, you can.” He clears his throat and ignores the way his face heats up as he says it.
”What are friends for, right?” He adds as he rests his arm around his friend, his business partner.
“…Thank you, Ant.” It shouldn’t cause his antennas to shoot up, but the TV star can’t help it. He called him Ant. Ant. Not Tenna, not even CRT. Ant, inherently personal. Different territory for them. But Tenna doesn’t want to misinterpret things, so…he only says-
“No problem, you’re good.”
They sit rather awkwardly, not knowing how to proceed, but the longer they do, the more normal it feels. Spamton's shoulders loosen and the crease in his expression softens until he looks almost peaceful and Tenna too finds his heartbeat slow back down as he pulls the little Addison closer to him.
It's soothing, and it pulls at something deep in Tenna's chest, a hidden ache he's tried his best to repress.
"...Are we gonna be OK?" Spamton asks, and the gameshow host bites the inside of his cheek. He's able to hide it pretty well by the time he faces Spamton again.
"We’re big shots, Spammy, we’ve made it big," he laughs as he leans closer. "How can we not be okay?" he adds.
"And with your success and mine, it will be great." he combs his fingers through Spamton's hair again and wipes a crumb that stayed at the corner of the Addison's lips while at it. "I’m sure that recorded special is gonna hit peak ratings this year and your sales will probably double!" That seems to cheer the ad beside him up.
"Yeah, that’s true," he giggles, and Tenna melts, his antennas curling into loops, pleased at the sound.
"And I’ll be right there with you." he says as he sips the last of his wine and places the glass down.
"Really? You will?"
"Yeah, I will" he grins as he leans down to meet Spamton's gaze better "I’ve been here so far, haven’t I?" he cocks his head to the side.
Tenna doesn't see it. He doesn't notice the subtle brew of emotions in Spamton's expression that might've clued him in as to what Spamton would do next. He doesn't realize how close he's let himself get to the Addison, how small the gap between them is. And that's why when Spamton leans over and kisses him, Tenna feels a shockwave go through his entire body.
His antennas twitch and spark as the Addison's lips press to his, slow and gentle in a way the gameshow host never experienced. Soft hands cup his face, and Tenna's own have to grip the couch to even steady himself in the moment, completely stunned by what's happening, electricity running like blood up to his face and warming his entire system.
Spamton is shy in the way he kisses, but it doesn’t stop him from pushing Tenna back against the cushion and turning his head to deepen the kiss. Tenna’s internal fans whirr back to life. By the time Spamton pulls away, both of them are breathless, and Tenna's screen briefly flashes to color bars as the CRT struggles to understand what just happened.
"...I don’t remember placing mistletoe over the couch." he jests with a nervous smirk when his screen reboots. His body is shaking, buzzing from the unexpected kiss. The Addison instantly pulls back, and Tenna misses the contact almost immediately before chastising himself internally for thinking that.
"Oh uh- I’m sorry-I’m so sorry-!" His business partner stumbles over his words as they spill out until they sound incomprehensible. But Tenna is in his head.
"I get it. I’ve told you already… It’s fine" he eventually offers quietly as he pulls the Addison close again. Spamton blinks several times as the blush on his face only intensifies. He fidgets with his hair.
"Oh…y-yeah…everything…everything’s fine." he swallows, a shaky breath escaping his lips. "...Are you sure?"
...
Tenna is thrown back to a time when their scheduled programming had a pop psychology segment with all the matchmaking and relationship drama that kept viewers tuning. Kissing… Something you do with the person you trust most, the person you feel safe with, the person you love. Now that Tenna thinks about it, Spamton's the closest he had to that kind of relationship, and that realization hits him quite hard. Harder than he would expect.
But Tenna knows he doesn't love Spamton. At least not in the way the little Addison deserves to be loved. He's seen love in his coworkers, with Lanina and Elnino, what true love is meant to be. Devotion, loyalty, commitment. Spamton may make him feel like he's on top of the world. He might make him feel young and free, and tug at something in his touch-starved, lonely wiring, making him wish for something more. But he knows that Tenna would never be as committed to him as he was to his audience.
Tenna is selfish; he's always been. He knows he would drop Spamton in a heartbeat if it meant advancing in his career, preserving his fame. The matter of them being together would never work, not realistically.
Two men and business partners like them together in a relationship... it would be a scandal. There's a reason you don't talk about this kind of stuff on TV. At least... he believes that, the executives told him so. Tenna would sooner consider shock therapy than publicly acting on something that might make him less appealing to the wider audience.
He supposes the one comforting thing about this is that he doubts Spamton loves him either. The Addison is upset, rejected by his family, and latching onto him for validation, craving care and attention. Tenna is just the only one left, the only one he could think of. The game show host can't judge because he understands and shares in those desires too. But in the end, they're both just two lonely people alone on Christmas Eve at the peak of their careers. So he sighs and plasters that same TV grin on his face as he looks at the Addison.
"…Yes" he says, resting his forehead against Spamton’s. The little ad's breath hitches as he closes his eyes shut tight and his blush softens. He mutters a quiet 'okay' as he leans further into Tenna's personal space.
"Spamton?"
"Yeah?"
“I mean it. We’ll be fine. With or without them.” He whispers as he kisses the Addison’s forehead, a spark of electricity in his metal heart warming the inside of his system “Whatever… we might do. We’re too big to fail.” He adds.
For a minute, his voice sounds so hopeful that they both believe in it, in the lie they’re both so unsure of. Almost. But with both of them so close…it’s easy to let yourself forget.
Tenna pulls Spamton close in front of him, sitting cross-legged and effectively trapping Spamton in his hold. The Addison briefly looks up at him, and Tenna takes the moment to plant another kiss on Spamton’s lips, gentle and careful. Warmth travels its way to his screen as he pulls away, desperate for more but smart enough to keep his distance.
There’s nothing tangible about this. About this inkling of feeling between them. It’s just a moment of weakness to act this way with one another. Just one time.
“Let’s just watch the show, okay?” He turns the volume up as the movie plays on “Don’t want to miss out on the terrible selection of movies this year” he sings, resting his screen on top of Spamton’s head.
For a minute, they can be more. For a minute, they can act and pretend they love each other earnestly and unconditionally.
And Tenna will savor it for as long as it lasts.