Chapter Text
The Dreemurr household had been eerily quiet the past few days. One comfort usually was that Tenna could see some parts of the light world, but hardly enough to understand what was going on, and this worried him. A lot. It was rare to have moments of silence in the house, with how crazy both Kris and Asriel were on the daily. He could simply chalk it up to them doing homework or something, but even in those cases they find a way to be loud. Both parents being quiet wasn't normal either. Asgore and Toriel were two peas in a pod, they talked all the time! About anything really, it didn't seem like it mattered what, as they mostly just enjoyed the sound of each other's voices.
Then he heard something:
“Asgore, I'm so done with you right now. I come home from work everyday, make dinner, clean the house, put the kids to bed, I- I do everything! Gosh darn it, I can drink when I want!”
“I'm just worried about you Tori.”
“If you were really sooooo worried, maybe you would actually pick up the slack every once in a while! I'm your wife Asgore, not your mother!”
“I try, I do… It's just, works been getting on my ass—"
“And so it's just my job then? Because you have too much ‘work’ to do? News flash, I'm busy too, but you don't see me moping around doing jack!”
"I'm sorry—"
“I don't need your goddamn apology right now Asgore!”
“Tori, please. Just stop.”
“Don't call me that.”
“...”
“I'm staying at Carol's house tonight.”
“But the kids—"
“What, you can't take care of your own children without me? thought you said I was drunk!”
“You are! And… this isn't healthy for you Toriel.”
“Oh, I know.”
SLAM!
The parents are fighting.
Again.
Tenna decided he should probably look away from the light world for now. He doesn't like seeing them fight after all. They are supposed to be happy, they love each other! He knows they do, he's been their one and only TV ever since the day they got married. But… Toriel's been drinking more, she always liked her wine, but downing a whole bottle on a work night is concerning, considering her old habits. He wishes so bad that he could help her, be there for her, just like he used to. Although he isn't enough anymore. He's turned from prime entertainment to quiet background noise, being about as useful as a radio with how little they look at him. Oh no, is something wrong with my screen? Am I-I broken? He certainly feels broken now.
Tears start to form on his screen, tail wrapping around his now tucked in legs. They were probably fighting because of him. He wasn't good enough, couldn't be enough, he's just a useless piece of junk that can't even make one Dreemurr smile. What's the point of keeping him around if he's just dead space? Or would it be too much of a hassle to even bother throwing him out. If they won't do it, he should do them a favour and do it himself. Make an excuse for them to finally rid them of his presence. He starts to shrink, a puddle of static tears now forming on the ground below him. Shrinking down to where he's only a few centimeters tall. Said puddle now becoming a lake in comparison to his current form.
Angel, why is he still hanging on? The sooner he gets thrown out the better. If he just did the job for them, it would be easier for everyone. At least he wouldn't be sad anymore… Wow... Even at his lowest he still thinks about himself. No wonder everyone hates him. As his thoughts grow louder he begins to lose the world around him, his metal casing tingling from the static surrounding him, numbing every part. This is it, he's dying. Yet still... He doesn't want to die. Not yet, not now! He still has so much time left! If he could just reach out, beg, plead, lose himself. He's dying, he's dead. How long has he been dead? Weeks, months, a year? Maybe he was never alive to begin with. All roads lead here, to this moment, to this stage, in this house. The moment where he realizes just how utterly useless he truly is. How long he's been tricking himself into thinking that there was ever anyone who ever loved him, selfish bastard. Trash, junk, garbage, scrap, USELESS USELESS USELESS!
He screams.
And then there's a new voice.
“Hey, uhm– Tenna? You alright there, big guy?”
He'd forgotten where he was for a moment there.
“You seem quite… Frazzled there.”
He was in the middle of the stage, his now ant size body curled up into a ball, still unable to feel any of his limbs, he turns his screen back on. When did it turn off? He was a mess, and one of his employees was standing right there, looking at him. It was Spamton. Quickly refocusing on the now, he tried his best to recover as much height as he could as fast as possible. Though his head was spinning.
“NOpe, all HUNKY doODIE!”
His head hurt, and he wanted to throw up, but that was the least of his worries. Because he was still covered in static— His own tears— a blaring sign making it impossible to convince the other darkner that he was feeling fine. It just screamed; ‘Look over here, look at me, I'm all glooby!’. He wanted to hide, run away if he could, but he was still too small. Even with his attempt at increasing his height, there was no way he could outrun Spamton. Angel it felt weird being shorter than him.
He was making a scene, all his employees will hate him. No, hate him more than they already do. Spamton won't be able to take him seriously after this, and he honestly wouldn't blame him. He'll leave, along with everyone else in the studio. Leaving him only with his thoughts, and his own inevitable death. He did this to himself. Everything is his fault. He deserves to feel like this. Oh angel, Spamton is right here! He’s still here and what am I doing? Only making more of a fool of myself! Always getting in my head, driving myself insane.
Was he insane? Must be. There really is something wrong with him. As the continuous barrage of thoughts plagued his consciousness, he realized he was caught in a loop, spiralling deeper his breathing quickened as his eyes started to water again. He's truly out of control.
He was shrinking again, as much as he tried to keep his tall(er) stature, it proved impossible. He wanted to hide his issues, it was no one else's problem, so why did his body refuse to cooperate? It took everything inside him to not just throw up due to his own horrific panic. When they say let it all out, they really mean all I guess! Which somehow gets a chuckle out of him. His sound processors soon started to ring, encapsulating him more. His vision was blurry, and he felt weak. He was dying. This time he knew it.
Oh angel, no, please, no, not yet! He pleaded to no one in particular. He’s dying. He is going to die. This is the end for him. His final show; merely a pathetic breakdown. This is what he deserves anyway, for all he has done. He wasn't good enough, wasn't strong enough, wasn't loved. No one loved him. It's the indisputable truth. He was made to be watched, not cared for, not comforted, and especially not loved! A pitiful existence that has come to an end all too late.
He should have died sooner, gotten out of everyone's way. He's old, unfunny, weird, doesn't have any of the good channels that the kids like nowadays, and his screen can barely even handle a GameCube game. He's far past his prime, his own burn in proving that. He's junk, trash, unsalvageable, no component even worth keeping. The Dreemurrs surely did'nt need him anymore, so why would anyone else!
“Tenna?”
The voice was soft, slow, and wary. Like it was testing to see how deep down he was before carrying him back up to the surface.
“Hey, you don't seem to be doing very well. Would you uh... Want to talk about it?”
What was there to talk about? That he would just be better off dead? He’s only doing this because of the display I'm putting on. He doesn’t really want to help, no one would. Yet the voice continues.
“Uh, okay… We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. But, will you let me talk?” The mailman stops for a moment, considering his next words. “No need to answer, just punch me when you want me to shut up, ‘kay?”
He started to think of random things he could talk about to hopefully distract Tenna from his own depression. Something funny, he likes funny!
“You know, the other day at the store someone said I look exactly like THE Spamton G. Spamton, told them; ‘I wish’!”
He forced out a laugh at his non-funny, definitely not a joke.
No response.
Tough crowd. That's alright, nothing I haven't dealt with before! He let out a cough to reset the stage. Maybe humor is not what the doctor ordered. Let's try… a song? The first song that came to mind was, of course, the TV time intro. Staying close to home, useing what he knows. But that hadn't done the trick, somehow making the small darkner fester more into his own sad puddle of tears.
Shit… maybe I should just get Ramb, he knows the TV better than I do, anyway… Damnit! He's a big shot, a depressed CRT won't stop him now! So he searched his memory for anything that could help, and—
oh, I'm going to have to hug him.
Spamton has never been the type of person to enjoy physical contact —always preferring his distance in such situations— but he was reminded of how easily calmed the TV had gotten after a hug from his bartender. Ramb was probably the better option for this, but he's not giving up now!
As weird as it felt, it was also… nice, in a way. The shuddering gasp that left Tenna as soon as Spamton leaned into embrace him startled him at first, but he softened as the TV melted into his touch. It seemed that was the final tug he needed to finally climb out of that pit. Words didn't seem to serve any purpose to him —to lost in the void to hear anything. Spamton felt small arms grab at his waist, seemingly wanting him closer, so he obliged.
He didn't’t know how long the two of them just sat here hugging, but it didn't matter. Tenna was taller now —less so than usual— but it was still better than before. As the CRT came back into consciousness, a light blush dusted his screen. Embarrassment, likely. Either way, it made Spamton laugh. Sweetly, making sure Tenna didn't feel like the butt of the joke. He just brought him back to the surface, no need to send him back into the water!
After a while, Tenna had spoken up. “m'sorry” his voice was still rough from his previous crying session. So pathetic and low, with occasional sniffles mixed in. Tenna was not fully out of his funk yet, clearly. So spamton did the same thing that seemed to work just a bit ago, hopeing that maybe trying again was all he needed to fully curb it. However, this time Tenna just became stiff and looked up at Spamton with a questioning look. Vision now locked, Spamton could now see just how much the CRT had been shaking. Shit! Just before he could let go though, Tenna grew closer to his original size, trapping Spamton in his arms in the process.
“Woah, Careful with the merchandise there cathode!”
He could hear giddy laughter coming from the man still holding him just as tight. Yet, as much as he truly wanted to protest this action further, he knew there was no use stopping it. Deep down, his heart fluttered with the touch, he would never admit that. However, Tenna needed him at that moment, he was needed. And he didn't want to let go.
It was like he was holding on for dear life, scared to let the moment pass as he let himself be further trapped in Tenna's arms. It went on a little to long for his liking, and Spamton was starting to panic; all the happy feelings that he had gotten from this encounter quickly leaving as his body became acutely aware of his situation. It was too much. His breathing started to pick up at that moment, he didn't like this anymore. He squirmed in an attempt to free himself but the vice grip that helped him wouldn't allow it.
“H-hey, let me go!”
Tenna froze. To his relief he was let go and placed back on the floor, but Tenna looked petrified. “I-I'm sorry, I just got a bit claustrophobic there, not used to being hugged like that!”
Tenna then covered his face with his hands, but Spamton could still see the deep blush that overwhelmed this face peeking from between his fingers. A rich red hue that encapsulated his white gloves as he tried his best to hide himself away. “I'm so sorry, I don't know what's wrong with me!” he shrunk a bit, moving further from Spamton as he did so “I shouldn't have done that… Sorry Spamton, I should know your boundaries.”
Spamtons previous feelings came rushing back to him like a wave destined for shore. The mere idea of such a big man crumbling so quickly after he simply told him to let go caused a red hue of his own to encroach apon his face.
Out of embarrassment.
Probably.
Definitely.
It's not like Spamton likes the guy! Or rather, he does like him, but not in a ‘I have day dreams of kissing my boss’ sorta way. Tenna's just nice, and big, and funny, and handsome… In a friendly, and very professional kind of way. That's what he told himself at least. The man just had a panic attack, it was not the time to think about him in that way. Or ever. Because he doesn't.
“N-no it's alright Tenna, you're not feeling your best right now. Not your fault!” He looks at his own hands as if in conformation that what he's about to ask is what he wants, “Would you uhm. Would you want to talk about it?” His suggestion is quickly followed up by an increasingly nervous looking Tenna shooting him a look of pure shock.
“O-oh, haha. No, it's all good. No need!”
Angel this man is pathetic… And sweet, and kind, and handsome, and- NOPE! Not right now! NOT. EVER. There's no way Tenna would even like me in that way, right? Hypothetically speaking of course. The man's old fashioned! Would probably faint if he saw two people of the same gender kissing… Doesn't even know what an email is! I still remember when he asked if it was like one of those ‘e-boys’ but older. Ew… How does he know what an e-boy is but not email? Maybe the man is gay. Not like that changes anything. Because I don't like Tenna in that way. I mean, heaven forbid a man have daydreams about kissing his boss, it's normal!
Angel he was a mess. His clothes were drenched with body numbing static, nose red just at the end, and his screen flickering every once in a while. This was so embarrassing, he's only known him for like, what: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, fuck– 6 months? It's been that long already? It was more surprising to Tenna that this was his first major breakdown that the ad had truly witnessed. No doubt he has had many, many, many uh- moments? But for Spamton to be seeing this for the first time? Yikes.
And he hugged him! Spamton hugged him. He has always shied away from touch in the past, so for him to hug him now? He must have felt pressured into it. Forced to hug his boss because he was crying on stage, so unprofessional! Just crawl back to your dressing room before it gets more awkward. Pretend nothing happened. He needed to smoke. He needed to calm his nerves, he needed to get away from this horrible situation. Oh man, how long was he crying for? Stupid!
He pushed himself to grow further, and made for the door. Running dejectedly for the green room with his screen to the floor. Avoiding anyone's gaze as he slipped into his dressing room, immediately falling to the floor and shrinking right back down as soon as he closed the door. Why was he even worried, it's not like any of his employees even cared. They've seen him like this many times, they knew the routine; he gets sad, freaks out, then gets all cagey about it. They knew it wasn't worth their time, he wasn't worth any of their time.
He started pulling at his antennae, quietly screaming at himself for what he did. No one would want to help him now. The Dreemurrs hated him, so what's his purpose anymore? He should just kill himself, get it over with. It's inevitable either way, so why waste anymore time. He shudders at the thought. The door to his balcony drawing him in, ever so carefully. So close. Just a few steps and it's over. No more tv, no more Tenna. So he pried the door open with his hands, which were still too short to reach the handles, mind fixated on one thing. Slowly but surely sliding it open to reveal the harsh snowy air outside. The railing now seemed useless as he was able to slip through it with ease. Putting one foot out, and releasing his hands from the railing one finger at a time. One final breath and—
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!
The sound snapped him out of his daze, and he fully realized just how close he got that time. might be a new record! He really needs to put a lock on that door. Wait, who's at the door? He was usually the one to snap himself out of those little trances, coming to reason even before he took the last few steps. This time though, he was fully gone. If it weren't for the person at the door arriving just in time, he would have done it.
“Tenna? I'm sorry if I scared you off, you sure you don't want to talk about it?”
Fuck, it was Spamton! He just had to play it cool, pretend like he didn't just almost fucking kill himself! Fuuuuccckkkk. He just had to dig this hole even deeper. Stupid! He, as quickly as he could, climbed back into the safety of the correct side of the balcony, pulled out a cigarette, and fiddled around in his pocket to find his lighter in a panic.
“Yep, everything is fine! Just uh… takin a smoke you know? Calm those nerves, hehe”
Good one, he saved it.
—
“Tenna, I know you're lying! Well maybe not about the ‘smoke’ part but the ‘I'm okay’ bit. Let's not just pretend I didn't see you out there having some sort of– panic attack!”
Spamton took a breath in, waiting for a response, but he never got one.
“Ant, open the goddamn door, or I'm busting it open myself!”
Spamton probably could have waited a few more seconds, but his fear wasn't allowing him time, so he kicked it open with a surprising amount of force.
He was indeed not lying about the ‘smoke’ part, but his body language revealed the latter was. He was back down to a shrunken form, and shaking. Not shivering, shaking.
“Tenna,” He looked back to the door that was now off its hinges, ”I'm sorry, I-I'll get a pippins to replace it.” Then back to the sad excuse of a man in front of him “I don't need you pretending right now, acting is for the stage. Not, not now!” He placed his hand on his head and let out a breath ”I'm worried, okay? A-and you just ‘hidin away’ is not helping!” he gave himself a moment to calm himself, seeing how the cathode was still in a bad mood. He didn't plan on making him feel worse. “I want to help you, okay?” He made sure to put emphasis on the ‘want’ part, because that's how he truly felt. The CRT seemed to perk up a bit as his words settled into his receptors.
“So, please. Let me help you.”
Spamton stretched out his hand. Nowhere close to the other darkner, it was more of a way to gesture him closer. Tenna obliged, putting his cigarette out on the floor of the balcony, and walking back into the room, and closing the doors. Much to Spamtons relief. He never liked this whole ‘comforting’ thing, and was hoping that the hug would have been enough, but the pain and fear he saw in Tenna's eyes seemed to override that problem. He truly wanted– no, needed to make him feel better.
Spamton was the first to sit down, having to help Tenna onto the couch. Using his hand to scoop him up and carefully place him onto a pillow so he could be closer to Spamtons own eye level. He watched as the CRT got comfy on his little pillow, going around in circles and almost pawing at it like a cat making biscuits. He could even see him retract his claws, wrapping tail around himself as he did. Is he purring? Oh angel this guy… I want to squish him.
He just had to focus on calming him down right now, nothing else. Would a hug work again or would that be weird? He looked at the man for a little longer, taking in the sight. His clothes were still drenched in dizzying static, but the TV didn't seem to care. Which was strange, because he would have sworn that would be the first thing he would try and fix. As pathetic as the situation was, it was also probably a bit uncomfortable for him. Spamton doesn't know much about static, but from what he did know it would probably feel like shit to be covered in it. Not to mention the tear stains plastered all over his screen, but that seemed to be more of a visual issue. Would a towel work?
Without even asking Tenna if it was even worth a shot, he got up from the couch and started to look around Tenna's dressing room. Spamton had his own private dressing room, but it was much smaller, for a few reasons. The layouts seemed to be fairly similar, so it didn't take long for him to find a towel. The only problem was that the towel he had found was huge. It made sense all things considered, but with Tenna at his current height, it would totally envelop him. He grabbed it anyway, thinking that might help comfort him in some way. Like a blanket almost.
He draped the towel onto Tenna, folding it around his body. It seemed like that was a good idea because that got the man to calm down ever so slightly. Alright, cool. Now we are getting somewhere! Spamton sat back down onto the couch, making sure he wasn't too close, to avoid making it any more awkward than it already was, but still close enough where Tenna could tell he was there.
“So… Wanna talk about,” he said gesturing around the man's general area, “that? If you need more time to just, settle down, I can give you a few more minutes–”
“Oh, uh. No, it's okay Spamton, I think I'm ready to talk now.”
“Oh, alright. Uhm, then go ahead.”
—
Tenna felt strange. Like he was warm, but cold at the same time. Felt calm, but also an overwhelming sense of dread. And that he was safe, while also being under an immediate threat. Very Oxymorononic. With Spamton sitting right next to him, everything was just very confusing. He's definitely not gonna stay after this, so might as well get as much use out of him as I can. He sighed, he was starting to feel more stress build up the longer he stayed quiet.
“T-the Dreemurrs,” He let out a weak sigh, “The Dreemurrs, the lightner family I belong to they uh… ” He took a breath in, “they haven't been watching TV much anymore, not the same as they used to at least,” He laughed almost manically this time, “th-they hate me! They want me gone, have for a while I can only guess, but they've been too busy fighting to even get rid of me!” Tenna starts to cry again, grabbing at his antenna to ground himself, “I-I mean without them I'm nothing! I'm junk, garbage, worseless scrap. The family is fighting and I can't even be there for them because they don't need me! I was never good enough. Never will be, so might as well just throw me away now! get it over with!”
“Woah, Tenna-”
Tenna grabs the sides of his own face, “SPAMTON, IF I'M GOOD ENOUGH FOR THE DREEMURRS MY LIFE IS WORTHLESS!” He then felt a hand on his shoulder. Looking up at Spamton, he could now see his worried face, “I-i'm sorry… this– I shouldn't– You-you should go…” but the grip only tightened.
“Tenna… There is no way I'm going to leave you here alone. I can't-”
“I'm so stupid, oh my god. Why-why did I even– haha!”
I made it worse, now he thinks I'm gonna kill myself. I mean, I did just try to, but I'm not gonna anymore! Wasn't in my right mind! Plus, it's not something for him to worry about. If anything he should be happy. No more stupid annoying useless boss to push me around! No more overly emotional and manipulative TV to force me to comfort him over his stupid damn delusions! It would be so so so cool if he went back onto the balcony and finished the job! Maybe I should do it for him! He is the worst! HAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAHHHAHAHAAHHAHHAHHAHAHAHHAHH—
He was snapped back into reality, Spamton was now holding him in a tight embrace, “Tenna, please! Don't say those things about yourself. You are not stupid,” some part deep in his brain made him want to shut up, but his heart just kept going “This whole studio would be nothing without you. Not some lightner family. You matter, with or without anyone else. I- I— you are loved by every single one of your staff members, and even if you weren’t you would still be just as deserving of it,” He let out his breath, “Tenna, I'm not here because I feel obliged to, but because I genuinely care about you— and everyone in this studio.”
He's lying.
“I care about you Tenna. You're funny, smart, brave, handsome, an amazing actor, and most importantly you care about others. So- so why not let others care for you every once in a while, ‘kay?”
Did he just call me handsome?
—
SHIIITTT I JUST CALLED HIM HANDSOME. There is no way I can take that back without making it worse! Wait, we're friends right? Friends compliment each other all the time! I mean you don't have to love someone romantically to appreciate their beauty, or love them just as dearly as you would a partner. What's with that anyways huh? Is it a crime to just want to love someone platonically? Long as he doesn't–
It was at that moment Tenna started blushing.
Out of embarrassment.
Probably.
Hopefully.
No.
That was a lie and he knew it. The idea of loving Tenna was exhilarating, and utterly horrifying at the same time. He's had a (hopefully) silent crush on the CRT since he first watched him on TV. He's charismatic, charming, kind, funny, and hot, oh so hot. Meeting, and actually getting to know him has only deepened his little crush into a full on unhealthy obsession for him. Seeing him walk around the studio each day was always a highlight, his tail carefully following his movements, adding that little bit of grandiose to each step. His strides were always perfect, and maybe it is true that he daydreams about kissing his boss, every once in a while. Might not be normal, but if that's the case he doesn't want to be!
Tenna was just looking at him frozen, mouth open as if he wanted to say something but the words had been stolen from his mouth, and whoever took them was not giving them back any time soon.
“S-sorry! That sounds weird now that I think about it, I overstepped. Just-just forget I said that part!”
Unless you want to. Oh of course he didn't say that though, he didn't want to scare the man anymore than he already had. That was the opposite of what he was supposed to do.
“N-no, it's fine! Really, I… You… I like your suit.”
If the man had eyes he would be fluttering his lashes. It seems as though Spamtons comment, although unintentionally, broke him out of his little mope session.
Hehe, he likes my suit~
—
Tenna did, in fact, not like his suit. The colour was a little too close to black, but not quite black enough to say it was black. It kinda pissed him off honestly. But in a rush to say anything but ‘I love you’ or ‘oh my god you are perfect in every way please I need you I never knew love like I have before this I think I want to marry you’, he settled on the suit. This is his first time feeling this way about Spamton, prior to their chat he would have never looked at him like this. He was no stranger to love, same sex or otherwise, but he's never been this head over heels for someone so out of the blue. But after everything Spamton's done for him today, he can't help but feel willing to lose himself for him.
What makes this curious though, is the fact that Ramb often comforts him when he is sad, but he never would want to kiss the man! Same went for Lanino or Elnina, so why was Spamton different? To be fair, he was quite cute now that he looked at him, even in his annoyingly undecided suit. After working with him for 6 months, truthfully, the two hadn't known a lot about each other. This being the first time Spamton has ever called him anything but Mr. Tenna, or Mr. ‘Ant’ Tenna. He was usually a stickler for formalities, but it sounded so natural and sweet hearing Spamton say his name in such a casual way.
Tenna examined Spamtons features closer now; pale white skin that seemed just a little sheer, letting the lights reflect off of it enhancing his already perfect glow. A nose, slender and long on his face, looking much like Tenna’s own, that directed all attention its way. Taking care to not overwhelm, but rather complement his other features. Above his nose were small black eyes that held a universe's worth of charm and beauty, only enhanced by his smile. It was like a guiding light, with his perfectly white teeth that were framed beautifully by slight dimples on the ends of it as it grew wider, drawing him closer and closer into his intoxicating presence. He exuded confidence, and a sense of unabashedly perfect charm that seemed to swallow Tenna whole.
Words could not accurately describe Spamton, he was above them. Above all mortal explanations for his own heavenly beauty. All else fades away into the background as if the world itself caters to him, allowing all things unimportant to vanish in his presence. As if time itself stops to take him into account, give him extra time for simply existing. As if nature moved around him, the flow of water redirected and seasons halted for his sake alone. Like he is the most important being in the world, even above any gods or angels. Maybe he is God. Spamton is the only thing on his mind, the only thing that will ever be on his mind. Spamton is everything, and he is nothing without him.
Tenna was broken out of his Spamton induced trace by the man himself, gracing him with his words. Ones he certainly does not deserve.
“haha, this old thing? It's not nearly as nice as yours! I mean, wow!”
Oh right, the suit
Spamton seemed to have planned to point to Tenna's suit, but backed out. He was wrapped in a towel to be fair. The comment did make him blush none the less. By golly he was in love, but how could he not be!? Tenna wanted to spill his guts to the man in front of him so badly, tell him he means the world to him, he's his everything, but he had only become so intently infatuated with him for a few minutes now. A confession would be weird would it not?
Not to mention that he was Spamtons boss, and also just had a mental breakdown. Plus, would Spamton even love him back? He had called Tenna handsome, but he said to forget about it. He did also complement Tenna’s suit, however, only after he had complemented Spamton’s own. Now that he thought about it, he probably felt obliged to! Tenna was a wreck, of course he would say that, just stroking his ego so he can get him out of his little funk. Nothing more than just pity. That's all he ever got anyways.
—
“Well, thank you Spamton. I really appreciate you helping me. I feel a lot better”
That much was clearly true, as the man had grown significantly and actually stayed that size. However Spamton could just tell that deep down, there was still something bothering him…
“It’s no problem Mr. Tenna, we all need a helping hand sometimes. It's nothing to worry about,” He thought over his words carefully now, making sure not to reignite the previous fire, “But, you said something about the Dreemurrs hating you. Are you sure they actually do? I think it would be hard for anyone to hate you, especially if they've known you for so long!”
“Oh. yeah. that,” his fake smile faltered, “they've been getting into more fights recently, but it seemed to calm down for a bit!” he sighed “but today was the worst one I've seen yet. I'm just worried I'm not doing enough, that this is my fault in some way.”
Spamton was confused by that, “how could their marital problems be your fault?” to his knowledge Tenna had no way of directly influencing the light world in any meaningful way.
“Well, Toriel has been more stressed lately. She just has a lot on her plate, and has been falling back on old bad habits to cope. I was what she usually would use as a distraction during her pregnancy, and she was doing really good for so long! I can only guess that I just haven't been enough. Asgore brought up her drinking habits while she was definitely a bit tipsy, and she kinda just blew up at him. Honestly the whole family kinda just treats me like a background character now. I'm not sure what I did… or how to fix it.”
“That doesn't make it your fault though.”
“I mean, to be fair Asgore's been little help as of late, so I just feel like– ugh I don't know!”
Tenna had started to cry again, letting out quiet sobs and whines, it wasn't as bad as before but it still made Spamton feel horrible none the less. He didn't fully understand just how close Tenna was to that family, but it almost seemed as though he thought of himself as a part of it. Tenna looked up at him now, the ends of his mouth downturned into a comical frown, and let out a sigh.
“I'm scared that they might not just hate me, but also each other." he let out a sniffle, “I guess I really wasn't good enough,” He had shrunken in on himself, more figuratively than literally, pulling his knees in closer. He had started to rock back and forth now, focusing on the floor in front of him, “I thought that- that if- if I was there for them–” he took a deep breath., “Then- then everything would be fine. That they would stop fighting, that Toriel wouldn't be so stressed, Asgore would start taking more responsibility, and- and the kids would be happy again.”
Tenna had now turned to look at him once more, with pleading eyes.
“Tenna… what they do with their lives is out of your control. There is only so much you can do. I'm sure you were very helpful, and you still are. Couples go through these little bumps sometimes. They'll still need you– We all still need you.”
As he said it, Spamton had started to tear up a bit himself now. No one has ever been this vulnerable with him before, it felt strange, warm, welcoming. He liked it, he liked being there for him, for Tenna. It felt like his heart was going to leap out of his chest with how fast it was beating, he liked this. He liked Tenna. And he needed him to know.
—
There was a ping in his heart as Spamtons eyes focused in on his own. He felt his heart rate rise uncontrollably as his senses once again focused on the man, isolating him from the world. All he saw was Spamton, all he heard was Spamton, all he smelt was Spamton, all he felt was Spamton, and all he tasted… was Spamton. As their lips met Tenna was fully consumed by the man in front of him. Locked into a never ending kiss that just felt right. Like he has been waiting all his life for this one moment, and now that it was finally here, the world only started to make more sense. It was intoxicating, the way their lips moved in tandem, held tightly together by hands slowly pushing them both closer and closer together. Neither wanting to let go of the moment, only begging for more.
Spamton was the first to come to his senses, allowing the two of them to slowly let go. He spoke, his voice low and breathy from their passionate kiss: “Wow… I- woah,” His cheeks had turned a bright red, eyes fixated on Tenna who was now at his full height. Tenna wanted so badly to go in for more, but all he could manage were a few blinks and an open mouth stare, “I-I'm sorry I shouldn't have done that… that was uh- uncalled for.”
Spamton quickly tried to back track from his previous action, tossing one leg over the other to feign composure. Tenna was stuck in a trance like state, still trapped in by Spamton even though he was scooting away from him.
He was happy. Truly happy. He was just kissed, even after everything that happened, Spamton had kissed him. As much as his mind wanted to blame it on insincerity— that Spamton had felt like he had to do it— the deeper, more rational parts of his brain knew the truth. He felt it. There was no way what just happened wasn't based on true feelings. Spamton really wanted to do that. Wanted him to know that his words were real, were raw, and true. Wanted Tenna to understand how much he is loved, and how much he loves him. He loves me? And finally, he was let back into the world.
“Spamton… I-”
“I'm sorry, I-i'm so so sorry,” Spamton was shaking now, “You- Oh goodness… I should not have done that.”
In response Tenna put his hand onto his shoulder, slowly rubbing it with his thumb as he did.
“No- hey… Spamton, that… I liked that. Thank you,” The now smaller darkner looked at him once more, melting under his touch, “Thank you. You're a really sweet guy you know.”
He tilted his head and smiled, repositioning his hands so one was now on Spamtons back, drawing circles on his spine. The shuttered breaths then turned into laughter.
“Ha, n-now you're the one comforting me!”
“Gotta pay you back somehow.”
“Ant-”
“It’s okay Spam, I don't mind.”
“S-spam?”
“O-oh, sorry is that to weird-”
“No. I like it,” Spamton pushed himself closer to Tenna, “I like it a lot actually.”