Archive of Our Own ^beta

Spamton lazily takes a sip from his glass and swooshes the sparkling acid green drink with a trained motion of his hand. His relaxed look can't be more opposite from his business partner. Tenna's clearly drunk, somehow a horrible lightweight despite his size, and giggles to himself incomprehensibly. His antennae twitch here and there, shaped like odd zigzags, and there's a green tinge to the usual glow of his screen.

Spamton smirks and casually looks over the balcony rails at the view of the Cyber City from their hotel room. The skyline is jagged glowing lines against the night-like sky-like space above them. The shining ferris wheel keeps on spinning. Someday very soon, all of this will be his.

Tenna hiccups and downs another glass of the liquid in one go. Maybe the amount he drinks is the issue, regular-sized glasses are nothing for him. Spamton thoughtfully traces Tenna's body from the tips of his antennae, which emit small sparkles of electricity, down to his giddy expression and… oh, maybe someone else here has had too much alcohol as well. He looks away quickly and fixes his glasses as a wave of embarrassment rushes through his much smaller body. He knew it'd be a bad idea one way or another, but, after all, they had to celebrate a successful closing of the airing season! And, if anything goes wrong, Tenna will be too drunk to remember it, anyway, so maybe there's no harm in letting his composure go a bit.

"All in thought, ?" Tenna slurs out, smirking wider and barring his fangs. Spamton tries hard not to look.

"I ALWAYS AM TENNA, ALWAYS, THAT'S ONE OF THE TICKETS TO ." He flashes a smile back at his business partner and drinks some more of the battery acid. Tenna erupts in giggles, and Spamton knows to expect him crying about his similarities with Toriel tomorrow. He's always so unreasonable about it – not like he has actual kids to care about! No, he's a successful showman and he should get to relax just like how anyone else does. Besides, he has someone to take care of him.

Woah, a weird thought again. Spamton's expression darkens behind his glasses and he looks away from the TV. That's too loose of a composure! He has an image to uphold, tipsy or not.

"You are… You're so smart and cool, ha-ha!.." Tenna's words are barely appropriate anymore, and Spamton finds himself blushing worse. "Wish I could be even a bit like ."

"HEY, PAL, I APPRECIATE THE COMPLIMENTS, BUT I THINK YOU'VE HAD A LITTLE ," Spamton laughs it off casually and takes the bottle of the drink to move it away from Tenna. The latter doesn't seem satisfied with that, however, so he grabs onto the bottle and effortlessly lifts it up in the air together with Spamton clinging onto it. "TENNA, WHAT THE HELL?"

"I didn't have too much," the TV insists, holding his partner up on eye-level (or where his eyes would be, anyway). His pouting expression suddenly splits into a grin, and this time Spamton can't ignore the alluring gleam of his threatening fangs. "Wow, you're even cuter from up close!"

"W-WHAT." Spamton's whole face is red at this point. To let go of the bottle would mean to fall right onto the table, if not just down from the balcony altogether, so all he can do is hold on tightly and survive through the drunk nonsense that his coworker is spewing. He's certainly starting to regret insisting on a celebratory night.

"You're so  and , and, ha, you're … Did you drink too much, ?" Spamton's eye twitches. At least Tenna assumed his embarrassment to be the consequence of alcohol and not of his very own actions. Before Spamton can relax much, he's suddenly brought even closer, and the glow of the screen blinds him. He can almost feel the static electricity right near, it makes his hair stand up on ends and sends awfully pleasant shocks through his body.

"TENNA, PLEASE. PUT ME DOWN." Surprisingly, the TV obliges, and Spamton feels himself be sat back into the chair. His confusion makes him slip and let go of the bottle, which immediately ends up pressed to Tenna's lips as he eagerly drinks all that's left. A rush of electricity runs along his body up to his antennae and his screen grows more flushed.

"Mm, ha ha, maybe that's… ah… a bit too much, hah…"

Tenna leans back into his seat, and it creaks desperately as the alcohol-induced high makes him grow in size a little more. Spamton hears faint knocking and sighs desperately – must be their room neighbours of staff, alerted by the loud noises. Might even make him pay for it, but Spamton will prefer that over being thrown out into the night with the incredibly drunk business partner of his.

Except, he realises, the knocking isn't coming from the outside, but rather from somewhere close.

A swirl of gold takes Spamton by surprise. He barely has the time to notice how Tenna's suit rips open, and then something jolts at him with a high-pitched laugh. 

"Oh… oh god… sorry, , I didn't mean to…"

He stares with wide eyes at a yellow star with a wide toothy smile, which apparently stares back at him, even though it doesn't have any eyes, just like its owner. A line of spheres connected to each other comes from somewhere in Tenna's chest under his clothes and ends at the star, and the worm-like body has wrapped around Spamton, firmly holding him in place.

"W-WHAT THE  IS THAT." Spamton can hardly believe what he sees, but the little star is fully real and laughs at him and his misery. He really starts feeling miserable, nausea rising in his throat as something knocks violently against his own chest. Maybe he'd stand a chance if he weren't so drunk, but alas, the compartment in his torso springs open,

and his heart jumps out with a loud giggle.

Embarrassment, frustration and a sudden regret of not jumping off the balcony fill Spamton's entire being. His heart instead giggles more and, out of his control, moves to Tenna's star. They exchange curious looks and then laugh together as they wrap around each other. Teal and golden balls coil together, and Spamton's face grows brightly red. Fearful, he lifts his sight up to Tenna, ready for all the disgust and hate he knows the TV can harbor in him.

Other Addisons would always make fun of him for it, so he learned to never let it out. A slip would mean any sort of relationship with anyone would be over. So that's what awaits him now, right?

Except that he's instead met with a wide smile and a bright red glow of Tenna's screen.

"Oh, , you… you have one of these as well! How cute!"

Startled by the TV's reaction, or rather by the near lack of it besides more drunk giggles and smiles, Spamton doesn't dare utter a word. That leaves him to observe how his very own heart uncoils from the other attack and instead floats up to Tenna's face while nearly pulling its owner after itself by the chain connecting them. Shameless and uncontrollable, the heart presses a kiss of its cold porcelain lips on the surface of Tenna's screen, and fuzzy static travels down the chain and shakes Spamton's whole body.

"Hey… I think your heart really  me!"

Tenna cradles the little teal heart in his arms. He pulls on its cheeks and rubs its nose and lips with his thumbs. It smiles and giggles on par with him, seemingly overjoyed. Despite the embarrassment of it all, Spamton's attention is forced back onto Tenna's star once it begins chewing on him. It bites into and drools over his hair, no doubt ruining his iconic look. When Spamton's hair is finally fully wet, the star moves over to his face and leaves faint bitemarks on his glowing digital skin. No matter how much he squirms, the salesman simply can't escape the grip the golden chain has on him.

" , you're so adorable! My cute little !"

No longer a toy just for the star, Spamton gets picked up by Tenna as well. The TV nuzzles their faces together and a rush of static fills the salesman's body, a shock powerful enough to, quite literally, turn him off.

***

He feels incredibly sick when he wakes up. The huge bed under him — king-sized? lord-sized? — is also awfully soft, and Spamton nearly drowns in its fluff. Yet it's so comfortable that for just a moment he can forget his weird dream. He really drank too much, didn't he?

"Good morning, Spamton," a glass of water is graciously offered to him, and Spamton doesn't hesitate to drink it, hoping it'd quell some of his headache.

Wait, was that Tenna just now.

He's in Tenna's bed.

Trying hard to pretend that he's not panicking, Spamton snaps his fingers and summons an advertisement for a branded mirror. Back at him stares a dishevelled darkner with blush and bitemarks all over his face, no clothes on the upper half of his body and a still-open chest compartment.

He looks over at the CRT and sees the star grinning at him in just the same way as Tenna does.

"Would you like to discuss what happened yesterday?"

"I'D LIKE YOUR CHAINS TO  SO THAT WE WOULDN'T HAVE TO DISCUSS THAT, ACTUALLY."

"What?"

"WHAT?"