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Gritting his teeth as the panic of his nightmare ebbed away, Spamton clenched his fist around the handle of his tea mug, nearly breaking it with strength he wasn’t accustomed to. He hoped the light he’d turned on or his movements wouldn’t disturb Tenna. Spamton seemed to be out of luck, though, because—
“Spam?” Tenna yawned, and Spamton heard his husband pad towards him. Tenna’s arms wrapped around Spamton’s collarbone from behind, but Spamton didn’t lean into Tenna like he might normally. Instead, Spamton leaned away. Tenna respected Spamton’s space, but Spamton saw Tenna walk in front of him and sit at the other end of the dinner table.
“I’M [[OK]],” Spamton lied. “I JUST COULDN’T SLEEP.”
“Spam.” Tenna’s tone was pressing but gentle. “Remember what we promised each other at our second wedding?”
“I KNOW, TELLING THE TRUTH ALWAYS. BUT [NO],” Spamton insisted. Tenna sighed, but didn’t ask anymore.
“Maybe later.”
For a while, neither Spamton nor Tenna spoke, Spamton not knowing what to say and Tenna not knowing what to do. Spamton looked up to see the gears turning in Tenna’s mind. Suddenly, Tenna seemed to have an idea. Tenna went over to the 80s-style radio they shared and slid in a cassette tape. Spamton recognized it on the first note as the one full of slow dance music he had given Tenna on the first anniversary of their remarriage to each other. Tenna returned to Spamton, and Spamton felt a hand on his shoulder.
“Dance with me?” Tenna asked, and Spamton nodded.
Spamton stood up and walked into Tenna’s embrace. Their position was messy, and Spamton would usually be the one leading, but Spamton just didn’t feel like it right then. In his NEO form, Spamton was finally tall enough to lean his head on Tenna’s artificial heart without help. So he did, letting himself be held by his husband just this once. The two swayed back and forth in their kitchen throughout the song, the weight on Spamton’s heart lightening with every movement, especially as Tenna kissed the top of Spamton’s head when the song changed. Spamton looked up at Tenna, and Tenna smiled down at him.
“Feel any better?” Tenna asked.
“YES,” Spamton answered truthfully.
The next song came on, and Spamton and Tenna moved into an informal waltz, minus any room between them. Warmth beamed down from the kitchen lights, and Spamton could almost imagine that he was basking in the sunlight—real sunlight, not artificial sun from a Dark World source. Tenna was still staring down at Spamton when Spamton looked at him again. The other Darkner pulled Spamton close, and whispered,
“You could make me believe in angels.” Spamton’s grin started to come back, and he began to blush. He knew Tenna meant it, because Tenna didn’t believe in angels like Spamton did.
“... SAY IT AGAIN,” Spamton requested. Tenna stopped moving and simply hugged Spamton.
“You could make me believe in angels.”
If it were possible, Spamton would have teared up, but it wasn’t. So, to show Tenna his appreciation, Spamton clacked his teeth against Tenna’s shoulder in an approximation of a kiss. From his closeness to Tenna, Spamton could feel Tenna beam. Tenna covered Spamton’s head in kisses, and Spamton leaned into the kisses. Spamton was going limp with sleep, and he knew it, so he backed away from Tenna when the second song ended.
“You okay, Spam?”
“JUST TIRED. LET’S GO BACK TO BED.”
“Okay.”
Tenna took Spamton’s hand and led him back to their bedroom. Spamton maneuvered himself under the blankets when Tenna lifted them, cuddling up to Tenna as he had when they had fallen asleep initially. Tenna kissed Spamton’s temple, making Spamton’s grin come back fully.
“Goodnight, Spam.”
“NIGHT, TENS.”