Chapter Text
Spamton leaned silently against the cold metal railing, the sun already long below the horizon and cars honking distantly in the musty post-rain air below the balcony he stood on. He lifted one hand and dug around in his pocket, locking his fingers around his lighter and a box at once.
His mind wandered a little bit as he pulled out a cigarette, flicking the lighter. Tenna had received an invitation to an important dinner with Queen, something about a potential partnership between technology both old and new. He'd asked Spamton to come with, likely because he knew Cyber City better than anybody in TV World. But he had no idea why he personally had agreed - this meant a chance of seeing the Addisons again, which made his skin crawl unpleasantly.
And yet, there was something else there. Something that made him even more uncomfortable, and yet the reason he said yes. Like there was a thick rope between them, and he could never stray too far. He'd never admit it to himself, but something about that tv - Spamton felt good around him. He couldn't explain it, but he was always happier around Tenna.
And that scared him. Just a little.
Spamton took a heavy puff off of his cigarette, narrowing his brow as he choked on the smoke clouding out of his mouth. Tenna fuzzed up his mind similarly to the thick, damp air around him, almost suffocating, and yet, warm.
Ah, warm. Tenna was pretty warm himself, as Spamton recalls smoking with him one cold night after a late showing. Heat had furled visibly into the air like steam from the smooth, purple hued metal making up his brilliant head. Spamton felt a smile tugging at his cheeks, but he denied it a place on his face as he brought the cigarette back to his mouth.
His heart dropped into his feet in realization as he felt his gut churn and his palms started sweating slightly. He didn't just like that tv -
He loved TV.
Spamton's brows furrowed deeply as he hunched his back further over the edge, flattening his arms between his chest and the top of the balcony railing. He looked down into the street below, trying to rewire his thoughts, trying to think about anything else at all. His cigarette sputtered out faster than he would've liked, so he quickly lit another and jammed it forcefully between his teeth. The harder he tried to think normally about his boss, the more directly embarrassing those thoughts became.
He must have been out there for at least an hour, because eventually he reached for another cigarette in an empty box. Palms still sweating, he grunted in frustration and resorted towards going inside.
Spamton pushed the door open with a huff, staring at his shoes. He closed his eyes as he let out a long exhale - but was interrupted as he slammed face first into a ... wall? He looked up, rubbing the side of his forehead.
Tenna reached out one of his gloves hands, bending a bit to be closer to eye level. "I am sorry, Spamton, are you alright? I did not see you around that corner, you look like a wreck, what happened?"
Spamton opened his mouth to reply, looking up at the TV, but failing, only managing a few feeble squeaks.
Tenna visibly panicked for a moment, positive his friend was in distress, and rapidly trying to figure out how to help. "Here, come with me to the break room, I'll get you a coffee. We'll talk about it, okay?" He placed a hand on Spamton's shoulder, guiding the smaller, disheveled mess gently towards the break room.
Spamton stayed silent, allowing Tenna to sit him in a chair, and watching as the taller man walked up to the coffee machine and set it to start early. His eyes wandered the many curves in Tenna's frame, the places where his suit pinched around his waist, the way the tail on his coat hung near his hips - he caught himself and dropped his head into his hands.
Tenna sensed the movement and turned around. He grabbed a cup and filled it with lukewarm coffee, bringing it over to Spamton and setting it on the table lightly. He settled himself onto the couch next to Spamton, placing his hands on his own knees and looking forward so as not to pry.
There was a long stretch of silence.
"Look, I won't make you talk about it. And it is late, so you don't need to drink the coffee. Just know that I want to help." Tenna's voice cut through the air softly, drowning out the dull electrical hum of the building for a moment. He paused. "I know I've been giving you a lot of extra paperwork to do, and more ads to do and organize. If that's too much, you can tell me. I have other employees-"
"That's not the issue," Spamton interjected. He dropped his hands to his thighs, wiping them off and turning his head to look at Tenna.
Tenna shifted to meet Spamton's gaze. It was impossible to tell where he was looking, and Spamton felt a drop of sweat bead on his forehead.
"If there is anyway I can help, just tell me?" Tenna said quietly.
Spamton looked back down to his hands. "Yeah. Yeah, I'd tell you. I may tell you this someday, just...." He picked up the coffee and turned it over in his hands. "Not ...."
Tenna's shoulders drooped - not a lot, but enough that Spamton noticed. They locked eyes again, and for whatever inexplicable reason, something registered mentally for the two of them.
Tenna's body shifted forward, seemingly unintentionally. His hands had moved, one on the cushion between them and the other on Spamton's arm rest.
The smaller man choked on his breath, nose to nose with the Lord of Screens himself, face hot and mouth working frantically to say something, anything, and failing miserably.
Author's Note
HAAHAHAHAHAHA SORRY GUYS you only get one part right now ... I'll finish this later but I'm releasing this early since I haven't posted in so long!