Chapter Text
Spamton G. Spamton had everything he ever wanted.
He was nothing short of famous, rich as all hell, and he had a spot on TV Time right next to the big boss himself. There really wasn’t much more he could ask for in a job, with thousands of adoring Darkners and Lightners alike tuning in every night to watch, his image was nearly inescapable. He couldn’t go anywhere in TV World or Cyber City without seeing himself, and angel above did it feel good.
The recognition and money weren’t the only benefits to the job, though. Countless post-shoot parties with near-endless amounts of alcohol were perfect for taking the edge off after a long, usually stressful day. And the best part was that, unlike the rest of the crew, Spamton could come in as late and as hungover as he wanted, and nobody could say a damn thing. The only one who had the power to fire him was the idiot box himself, and that would never happen for… reasons.
All in all, the salesman’s life was almost perfect. In any other universe, he would have been more than satisfied.
So why wasn’t he?
“Mister Spamton, may I see you in my office?” A voice from up above pulled him out of his mind. The voice hardly belonged to an angel, though, rather the particularly large figure of his stupid, sexy, uptight boss.
Spamton sighed, he was in for a long day. With as neutral of an expression as he could muster, he begrudgingly followed Tenna back to his office. The stares that he got from the rest of the crew made his fingers twitch, longing to strangle them for the disparaging thoughts they were undoubtedly thinking.
The massive set of double doors creaked open, and Tenna graciously allowed the scammy little mailman in first. Spamton glanced back up at the CRT only to find that his face was completely blank. Fuck. He was actually mad this time, wasn’t he?
The sound of the door slamming immediately followed by the sharp click of heels on the tile floor was enough to answer his question. The puppet steeled himself, mentally preparing for yet another argument.
“I- I can’t believe you! In front of the audience? Are you serious? Do you have any idea what the censors will do to us? Stuff like this in front of the crew was already pushing it, but this is too far! At this rate, you’ll get us taken off the air!” Tenna stopped his pacing for a moment, turning to glare at his partner before scoffing. “And to top it all off, you can’t even look at me? How mature.”
Spamton rolled his eyes a little, turning on his heel to face the other Darkner. “Come on, Ant, don’t you think you’re overreacting a little? It really wasn’t that noticeable.”
“You slapped my ass on stage, Spamton! I don’t think that’s exactly nothing!”
The puppet cringed, but refused to let up. “Well, when you put it like that, it doesn’t sound great,” Tenna scowled, his screen burning a slight pink. “But, seriously! It’s not like I ripped your clothes off and bent you over on stage. Not saying I would be opposed to that if you–”
“Spamton!”
“Fine, fine! I’m sorry! I guess I’m just not sure why you’re so fired up about this. I mean, if you ask me, I think Elnina and Lanino have gotten away with far more in the PDA department. Seriously, they eye-fuck each other every damn broadcast!”
Spamton leaned against his partner’s stupidly tall desk. Angel above, he needed a drink, and from the look of it, so did Tenna.
The CRT’s antennae twitched, fumbling his words a little before he managed to get a coherent thought out. “Th- that’s different! They’re supposed to be all affectionate, ‘cause the weather always sticks together or whatever…”
Spamton raised an eyebrow. With a slightly embarrassing amount of effort, the salesman hopped onto the desk, disregarding anything he may have displaced or knocked over. “What are you trying to say, Tens? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were ashamed of what we have.”
“I’m not, promise! It’s just…” Tenna continued to stutter, fidgeting with his tie a little. “It’s obscene! What if Tori was watching? Wh- what if Kris was watching? We can’t expose them to… to this!”
Without thinking, the salesman chuckled. “Ant, are you serious? They’re not exactly a little kid anymore, y’know. They’ve probably seen much worse by now, they’ll live,” he leaned back to look Tenna in the face, crossing his legs haughtily. “Besides, I think it would be good for the kid to see what it actually looks like when people love each other.”
Tenna could only manage to stammer out a few scandalized noises. He had heard callous, insensitive remarks from the puppet before, sure, but he had never brought the Lightners, his Lightners, into one of their petty spats.
“Y- you take that back! Kris already knows what that looks like, I’m sure of it–”
“Are you? Because you don’t really sound convinced yourself. Look, I’m no expert on your Lightners,” a certain bitterness crept into Spamton’s words. “but last I checked, it’s been years since the entire family was even in the same room together. Is that what you would call a model relationship, hm? Having two parents that won’t so much as interact if it isn’t necessary? It wouldn’t kill Kris to see something a little healthier on TV, and it wouldn’t kill you to be a little more outwardly affectionate.”
The CRT shrunk a little, still trying to keep up his facade of anger. “Well, it’s not about you, Spamton. Not everything is about you. You know I don’t like being too forward about… this, I thought you would have learned to respect that by now.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry that I care about my partner! Is that what you want me to say? You can be so fucking unreasonable sometimes!”
“And apparently you’re incapable of thinking about anyone but yourself!” With that, the CRT turned his back on the other Darkner. An uneasy silence fell over them like a thick fog, the tension growing by the second. Before they knew it, minutes had passed, not a single word being exchanged.
Spamton scoffed, hopping off of the desk back onto the tile floor. For a moment, he considered leaving and finally getting something to take the edge off, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t because he looked back at Tenna, who had shrunk to less than half his usual size. It was pathetic, it was almost surely an attempt to guilt-trip him, but it worked too damn well.
The puppet exhaled. As quietly as he could, he made his way over to Tenna. It stung a little when the CRT flinched at his touch, but Spamton could only ignore it for the time being.
“Tens, Angel,” Spamton knelt down next to Tenna, his hand cautiously drifting to his knee. “What’s really been going on with you? You’ve been kinda off lately. Don’t try to lie to me and say it’s just about what happened today, though. You and I both know you’re a terrible liar.”
This earned a half-hearted, watery laugh from Tenna. He knew he couldn’t lie, especially not to somebody like Spamton, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t difficult not to.
“It’s just… oh, oh dear, where do I start?” Tears pricked his screen where his eyes would be, but Tenna wasn’t going to cry. He wasn’t going to cry, he couldn’t. In a desperate attempt to focus on anything else, he took his partner’s hand. “Nobody’s… nobody’s tuned in lately, not even Tori. I’ve tried running all of their favorites, but nothing ever gets anyone to stick around. Sorry, Spammy, you’re probably right that nobody saw what happened earlier, because nobody’s watching at all.”
Spamton ran his thumb over Tenna’s knuckles carefully, urging him to continue.
“I don’t get it, I’m just not sure what I’m doing wrong! Everyone used to love watching TV together. The Holidays too! Is the show getting too old? Are they getting tired of me? Spammy, are they gonna throw me out–”
“Nobody’s getting thrown out! Ant, you know it’s not your fault nobody’s watched in a while, right? They’re probably just busy is all. Besides, if they wanted to throw you out, they probably would have already! Don’t worry about it, okay? I’m sure your Lightners’ll come back eventually.”
Despite his calm, confident demeanor, Spamton was utterly bullshitting. He wasn’t familiar with the Lightners like Tenna was, so he had no idea if any of what he said was true. The only thing that mattered, though, was whether or not Tenna bought it.
A shaky smile spread across the CRT’s screen. “You really mean that? You think they’ll be back soon?” Tenna grew a little taller, a flower starting to bloom from the tip of his nose. Before Spamton could register what was happening, he was pulled into a crushing embrace.
“Thanks a million! You’re a lifesaver! I don’t know what I would ever do without my little mailman,” Spamton gave a muffled response into Tenna’s chest, unable to escape the other Darkner’s arms. Not that he was complaining, he quite enjoyed this position, actually. But he also had a job to get back to, they both did.
Once Tenna realized that he was on the verge of crushing his partner, he reluctantly pulled back, a sheepish laugh escaping him. Spamton offered him a slightly awkward smile, and the two quickly fell quiet, basking in each others’ presence.
As soon as Tenna had begun to relax, though, the silence was broken by the sound of the puppet’s heels on the tile floor, getting closer and closer to the door. “Well, glad we could get all that resolved. I’ll see you back out there in a few minutes. Don’t push yourself so hard out there, ‘kay?”
Tenna’s smile dropped. Was he really leaving so soon? Surely he could stand to wait a few more minutes before going back to work, the crew could handle themselves for a little longer. The CRT’s thoughts began to race, urging him to do something, anything, to get him to stay.
“Wait!” Tenna shouted the word a little louder than he intended to. At least it got Spamton to turn back around. “There’s actually something else that’s been bothering me for a while now,” His artificial heart skipped a beat. He wasn’t sure why he was about to bring this up now, because he truly, truly, didn’t want to.
Spamton smiled smugly, taking a couple small steps towards his partner. “Tens, if you want me to stay for a while longer, you can just ask. I know, I don’t want to get back to work either, but you’re gonna have to be a little more direct with me if you want to skip that bad.”
“N- no! I’m serious, Spamton. Please just, just listen to me for a second?” Tenna was internally kicking himself. He really should have just asked his little mailman to stay instead of asking questions he frankly didn’t want the answers to.
Said mailman was getting more nervous by the second. It was rare (and very strange) for the other Darkner to express an emotion that wasn’t manic joy, unconsolable depression, or rage. It was even rarer that that emotion was anything akin to anxiety. Cautiously, he closed the gap between him and his partner, apprehensively lacing his fingers together.
The quiet of the room was anything but comfortable, such a far cry from the mood not even ten minutes ago. Neither wanted to speak first.
“I’m, I’m really sorry if I’m overstepping, but, ah…” Tenna’s claws dug into the material of his pants, barely refraining from tearing them. “It’s about that phone… and those calls you’ve been getting?”
Spamton’s heart dropped, a bone-deep chill washing over his entire frame. The CRT pulled his knees to his chest, continuing.
“I don’t know, it’s, you’ve been getting more of them lately! A- and sometimes it seems like you’re on the line for hours talking to… whoever it is. They rarely ever sound happy,” The puppet’s nails stabbed into his palm. “Sorry, it’s just, you’ve seemed more on edge lately too, and… I want to know if there’s anything I can do? If you need me to get anyone off your back, I can be a whole lot scarier for you!”
Tenna flashed a radiant, award-winning smile, but all Spamton could feel was dread. As tempting (and naive) as that offer was, there was no way in hell he would get his partner, his sweet, caring Tenna, involved. There was only one outcome to that, and it wasn’t pretty.
Instead of verbalizing any of those thoughts, though, the salesman did what he did best and lied, putting his overconfident salesman persona to work.
“Tens, baby, I’m fine! You don’t need to worry about getting anyone off my back for me or whatever. The relationship I have with… them is quite amicable!” Spamton looked up at Tenna. He was a little disappointed that his partner didn’t look relieved in the slightest, so he continued against his better judgement. “And besides, what is there to worry about? They’re just a voice over the phone. Even if they wanted to hurt me, it’s not like they actually could, you know?”
His bold-faced lie went completely unrecognized, but he barely had time to sigh in relief before Tenna spoke again. “I know that, Spammy, but I’m… I guess I’m just a little worried. I hate seeing you so stressed, and I hate not being able to do anything about it!”
Spamton was about to reassure him, tell him not to worry so much, but the CRT cut in again.
“And, I know it’s silly, but I’ve got this weird irrational fear that- that you’ll leave? That they’re trying to offer you something better, something I could never give you, and in a flash, you’re gone. It’s so stupid, I know! I’m not even sure why I’m so worried about it, but…”
Tenna shrunk a little, his screen flushing pink in embarrassment. Guilt momentarily washed over the puppet’s face, but he made sure to push it back down as soon as he could.
“Ant, Angel,” Tenna didn’t even seem to register he was speaking. Spamton panicked internally. He needed to stop the other Darkner’s train of thought right now.
“Tenna.”
The CRT looked back up to see his beloved mailman kneeling in front of him, his smaller hands moving to take one of his own.
“You know I’d never abandon you, right? Doesn’t matter if I’m offered something better, if- if you aren’t there with me, I don’t want it,” One of his hands moved to stroke Tenna’s casing, the heat from his screen warming his fingers. “Money, fame, all the other shit, it doesn’t really matter if we can’t, y’know, share it.”
A sinking feeling settled deep in Spamton’s chest. The words he spoke were genuine, his typical salesman tone dropped in favor of a more sincere one, but he wasn’t sure how much longer his promises could stay true.
Tenna hardly seemed to notice his partner’s internal conflict, however, simply smiling up at him adoringly. Before he could pull Spamton into another tight hug, the grip on his hand was released, all of the warmth in his chest dissipating. The puppet stood up. Tenna’s confusion must have been evident on his face, because he was quickly offered a comforting smile.
“Could you take off your gloves for me, Ant?” He was even more confused, but he took them off anyway. If it was for Spamton, he was willing to do just about anything.
Spamton shallowly exhaled, trying and failing to repress his anxiety. Shit, he hadn’t been this nervous since he first came onto TV Time, and that adorable lost puppy look the CRT was giving him was certainly not helping.
Shoving his hands in his pockets, the puppet’s gaze fell to the floor. He tried to ignore how his face burned. “So… so, I was planning on doing this later, y’know, when we’d actually be alone, but it kinda looks like- like we both need this right now,” he cleared his throat, trying to cover it with a nervous laugh. “Sorry, sorry, not sure why this is so…”
Just as Tenna was about to speak up, Spamton reached for his left hand. He took some comfort in the fact that his partner’s hands seemed to be shaking just as much as his were.
“Look, Tenna, you- you know I’m not great with my words, so I, ah, got something for you a while back, and I’ve been looking for the perfect opportunity to give it to you, but one hasn’t really come up until–” the salesman cut himself off, taking a sharp breath. He reached a trembling hand into the pocket of his jacket, pulling a small, sleek box from it.
Tenna could only stare in awe as the box was slowly opened to reveal a sparkling silver ring. A flower bloomed from his nose.
“Until now,” Spamton finally met his partner’s gaze. “I- I wish this could have been a little more romantic, like, not in your office, but I’m not sure I could have waited much longer. Tens, I… I really care about you, Tenna.”
The CRT was almost too stunned to speak. He had seen this moment in every single one of his fantasies, felt his heart overflow with joy every time he imagined it, but never in his life did he think experiencing it for real would be so overwhelming.
“Spammy, is this a proposal?” It was the only thing Tenna could manage to squeak out, on the verge of tears again.
A choked sound escaped the puppet, his eyes going wide for a second. “I- I mean, I guess? If you want it to be?” He smiled wide, allowing his typical sleazy salesman mask to drop. “Do you wanna try the ring on?”
Tenna was only able to nod. A single word out of him and he would start sobbing for real.
When he felt the ring slip onto his finger, the dam immediately broke. Before Tenna even knew he was crying, Spamton was already wiping away his tears. His heart really could have burst, the only time he was even close to being this happy was the first day he spent with Toriel.
Upon seeing his partner (now fiancee, he supposed) so happy, the puppet shed a few tears himself. At this moment, only the two of them existed. He had long forgotten about the studio, the censors, the phone, all that mattered now was him and Tenna.
Spamton wrapped his arms around the CRT. Despite having to stand on tiptoe to embrace him properly, it was the most comfortable he’d ever been in a hug. Tenna returned the favor, holding his mailman to his chest in a nearly crushing grip.
Neither were sure how long they stayed in that position. It could have been minutes, hours, days, and it wouldn’t have made a difference. The spotlight wasn’t on them, they didn’t need to perform, all they needed was the connection.
Eventually, they had to pull apart, as they usually do. This time, though, it wasn’t out of fear of missing a cue or being late to call time.
“Spammy…?”
“What is it, Ant?”
Tenna sucked in a breath. “I know we can’t really marry like Lightners can, but i- if you want to make things more ‘official,’ we could, ah…” He fidgeted with the ring on his finger, watching as it sparkled in the light. “We could add, o- or change, a few things in the contract.”
A quick spike of fear shot through Spamton, but he immediately suppressed it.
“I know you had a few hangups about the whole thing, but, I don’t know, it could be good for us? I really don’t want to pressure you into signing, honest! But I, um, I just… don’t want to lose you.”
Guilt weighed heavily on the puppet’s shoulders, his heart beginning to ache. He broke eye contact with his fiancee. As much as he didn’t want to upset Tenna, he wasn’t sure he could ever go through with the contract, because if his benefactor noticed…
If his benefactor didn’t notice, what then? Surely they wouldn’t notice something as small as one tiny signature. Especially if the contract was edited to hell and back, then there wouldn’t even be anything for them to worry about. No information, no details, no trace, nothing that could potentially cause problems. It would be fine, he would be fine. Spamton looked back to Tenna. That hopeful, slightly pathetic expression on the other’s screen was just enough to convince him.
“How about we look it over again tomorrow? I’d… also like to make things official.”
Tenna’s antennae twitched. “Really? You really mean it?”
The salesman sighed lightly, a soft smile spreading across his face. “Yeah, ‘course I do, Tens. It clearly means a lot to you, and–”
The piercing sound of a phone ringing cut through the air.
Spamton looked towards the source of the noise, then back to Tenna, then towards the source of the noise again. He tried not to think about the distressed expression Tenna wore.
“Shit, I- I’m so sorry, Ant. I’ll be back in a moment, before you even know I’m gone!” With that, Spamton speedwalks out of the office, slamming the door behind him.
The silence of the office is suddenly suffocating, and Tenna can barely breathe. His body involuntarily shrinks. The cold lights hit his screen uncomfortably, almost blinding him. He can feel the hard, unforgiving floor against his skin, even through his clothing.
His ring finger feels too heavy.