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‘I want to apologize’
It’s the first coherent thought that shoots through Tenna’s circuitry as he powers up in the morning. No, he doesn’t just want to, he needs to. This is the second coherent thought to follow the first.
The reasons are now becoming too numerous to count. Spamton has been—well, he’s been mostly on good behavior since meeting back up. That doesn’t stop Tenna from being suspicious and letting the years of spite slip into his reasoning. It’s worse when it makes it past his thought barrier and out into the open. Sometimes Spamton will bite back at these and in the moment it’s hard to see clearly. Now however, in the clarity of the early morning, it’s a little easier.
He replays the puppet’s words over and over again like a recording. It’s not an excuse, he tells himself. ‘I want to believe he genuinely didn’t want to leave. I want to believe he’d come back if he could.’ To this own disappointment, the weight of all these years of resentment still sit bitterly in his chest.
Spamton is nestled snug against his chest and wrapped now like a cocoon in the entirety of the blanket. He’s missed this. Most of this realization had hit him the night before so his emotions are a little more stable. Still, arm lying against the other’s lower back, his heart stirs at the sight of him.
‘If I didn’t love you so much, it wouldn’t hurt this badly.’ Love—neither have said it. Maybe they’re both still afraid, especially after everything that’s happened. Tenna loved Spamton, more than anything. As if it was a scene from one of Asgore's romance movies, spending time with him made all these feelings come back.
It would be great if it was just the good feelings, they make Tenna feel so big. It’s the bad ones he isn't equipped to deal with. He’s spent so long turning to anger because the alternative makes him too sad to face. That things could have been different if he went after Spamton instead of reaching for the blasted phone? That maybe he wouldn't have left if Tenna hadn’t pushed him into that contract? That maybe it was just a problem with him? Did Spamton feel crushed just by being with him?
He guesses none of those thoughts matter now. For worse, everything did happen and now Spamton just is that way. Try as he might to get that missing information… no, he has to think going forward. He’s been so miserable living in the past, both regarding Spamton and the Dreemurrs. This thing with Spamton—it was a fresh start. Knowing the unknown was only bound to hurt him more, and judging by what happened last time it was brought up, prying it from Spamton would just hurt him physically. Tenna wanted to avoid having to see that again.
It didn’t matter that Spamton had externally changed. There was still something so unmistakably him underneath it all, something he remembered. He had to trust that. He had to trust Spamton.
As if on cue, the puppet in his arms shifts and snuggles further into his embrace. Tenna smiles. He looks so peaceful.
Trust is a two way street. If he truly is to put his trust back in Spamton (and make this work), he has to give him a reason to trust him back. That starts with a good apology, as he doesn't think he's said a single thing to make this feeling known to Spamton. To be fair, he doesn't think he's even taken the time to make this feeling known to himself. There's the realization that this apology will take more than just words. Tenna had to go out to Castle Town today anyway.
~~~
Spamton wakes up slowly. In between the veil of dream and reality, he shifts. His arms feel unresponsive and a sudden panic sets in as he struggles. Eyes fly open, wherever he is is dark but he can make out shapes which means he must still be wearing his glasses, which is good. He still needs them, even with the extra baggage they bring. There's a shiver that runs down his body when he recalls the time they were knocked off in his fight with Tenna in the past. Okay, stop thinking about that. Arms, he reminds himself before rolling onto his back.
There's fabric, a blanket that seems to be constricting his movements. Maybe it's been too long since he's slept with one. Spamton didn't use to be a restless sleeper, at least he thinks so. He tries to recall but the memories are fuzzy. The nightmares have not helped. Now in a more calm state, he focuses on freeing himself from his confines. Afterwards, he sits up and takes in his surroundings.
An office desk and a fold out bed, oh right, Tenna's place at the studio. Glancing down at the oversized TV Time shirt he's wearing, he remembers. Last night he fell asleep next to Tenna but now it's just him alone in the room. Is he disappointed about this? Did he want to wake up beside him? In the past he made sure to be the one who stepped away first, he didn't want to get too attached. Not that it ever worked, since he got attached anyway.
Spamton flops back onto the mattress as he stares at the ceiling. 'What now?' he thinks to himself. He was supposed to be helping the Lighteners after all, he really shouldn't be lollygagging here with Tenna…right? He likes it here though, even after all this time there's still something familiar about Tenna that makes him feel safe, like coming home and gee isn't that a loaded thought. 'Tenna feels like home', he mulls this thought in his mind.
After their fight, it wasn't even that long until he slunk back here. This meeting was certainly nicer than the first, even if he did embarrass himself by making those noises in front of him. It was not done on purpose, it just slipped out. Tenna just made him feel warm and comfortable and happy like… Even when Tenna was angry, there were certain things Spamton enjoyed, it's why he just couldn't stay away and instead kept pressing his luck.
That damn Cathode, why did he care for him so much? It would have made everything so much easier if he didn't, and heaven knows he's tried. He was stupid, he gave up everything he had for him but when he needed Tenna most, he wasn't there. What about now? Would Tenna have his back now? The thought occurs to him that it's all he's ever wanted. All his life, the one thing he's wanted was someone in his corner, who believed in him and who stuck by him. Everyone else had fallen away and while it hurt, it didn't hurt as much as he had with Tenna. Tenna was supposed to be different, it felt like it should have been different.
And Tenna won't even bring it up! Spamton thinks that's what makes him mad the most, acting like the bad things didn't happen. Like he wasn't partially responsible for his current state. Acknowledge it! Acknowledge me!
Spamton realizes he's gone and worked himself up over this, as his heart-shaped object now beats loud enough in his chest to hear. Spamton breathes. He—can they even coexist anymore if they cannot get over this? Spamton realizes he wants this, but what does Tenna want?
~~~
Tenna is greeted with smiles when he makes his way to Castle Town. Faces both new and old line the streets, milling between the buildings. He runs into many of his former employees who have decided to stay here instead of following him to his new home and he tries not to make it awkward with his responses. Genuinely he is happy for them, but he's still trying not to take it as a personal offense and trying even harder to make sure that this lingering doubt is not being displayed on his screen. He's been told that he's a bit of an open book when it comes his feelings. Maybe that's one reason why he's made his visits scarce despite the fact that Ralsei had made it abundantly clear how welcome he was here.
He's vaguely familiar with the layout of the town from when he stayed here before being donated to his new home, but the town has grown since he last saw it. At times like this, he's glad for his height. Even with the new recruits milling around, he's still one of the biggest Darknener here and folks make way as he walks to his destination.
First thing's first, he needs to replace Spamton's clothes. It's shameful to admit the state his actions put them into. There were a lot of really bad decisions being thrown around, he was not thinking clearly, and he blames those actions purely on himself for being…well, foolish. Being presented with this opportunity, he will give these to him and that little thing will be water under the bridge.
Will that be enough though? No, probably not. Spamton seemed pretty mad about a great many things. The clothes weren't even something he was mad about. Tenna wrings his hands nervously, is there something he can do for him, get for him maybe, that he's not expecting?
It dawns on him that despite their history together, he doesn't actually know that much about Spamton. A lot of what they did revolved around TV Time. It didn't help that outside of the show, both of them were kept busy enough to not have time for anything else outside of their purely physical relationship. Think Tenna! Isn't there something you can think of that would mean a lot to him?
He catches an Addison selling their wares out of the corner of his screen and despite their vast differences, he is reminded of how his little mailman used to look. He really was so cute back then, all soft and feathery. He had this tail that would wag when he was happy, it always seemed to give away his true intentions and Tenna smiled, despite himself, at the memories and his own plug tail flicked excitedly.
Then he stopped. Spamton wasn't like that now. Was it selfish to mourn those pieces of Spamton that were gone when the man himself stood in front of him? Was it cruel to want those fragments of the past back that once gave him comfort? He was doing it again, thinking of Spamton as a concept, a thing instead of as a person. Spamton is not just some memory, he's back. He's different, but it's him. 'Look forward, move forward,' he had told himself.
"Hello, can I help you sir?" The voice of the Addison, who's now noticed him, snaps him out of his head.
"Why yes," Tenna instantly puts on his 'for television' smile as he turns to the Addison. "You most certainly can."
~~~
Despite the nagging sensation to dig around Tenna's office and snoop, Spamton turns his attention to something more practical: mending the rips in his old coat. The clothing is right where it was left the night before, in a pile on the floor next to the sink. He rummages through the inner pockets to find his needle and thread. The needle, bent as it was through years of use, has served him well.
He takes up a spot on the edge of the fold out bed, letting his legs dangle as he looks at where to start. Small is better, he decides. He snaps off the thread with his teeth and begins.
The stitch comes up and down taking the needle behind and then forward. The repeated motion through the fabric allowed Spamton to zone out momentarily as if in a daze. As the minutes tick on, the coat becomes more whole. Mending his own clothes, he could not imagine this kind moment ever taking place in his prime. There were people for that kind of thing, this work was beneath him. And now, well let’s just say nothing is beneath you when you’re at the very bottom. As shoddy as his craftsmanship was, he had to learn, or be forced out of the one bit of decency he still had.
Shaking the past from his mind he now looks down at where his stitching had gone without him and— shit! That didn’t look right! He inspected the other side to see the thread all tangled a few ticks back. Grinding his jaw in frustration, he knew full well this would be more trouble fixing than it was worth and yet it was the principle of the thing. Letting his mind wander and fucking up even the most simple of tasks, no this wouldn’t stand.
Letting the needle hang where it was, Spamton turned his attention to the knot at hand. He picked at one end of the thread, trying to follow its logic. As it loosened he felt a bit more confident and pulled the other threads next to it away in an attempt to unravel it further; however, one was stuck firmly. The puppet could feel this patience slipping the more he fought with it.
No, why continue doing this?! Just give up! It wasn’t worth it. It—! Fuck the whole thing was awful anyway! Throw it all out! It didn’t matter really. Even with the rip mended, everyone could still see it for the trash it was. What use was it saving? Why did he even bother?! His hands clenched the fabric tightly.
A painful glitch then coursed through his body and he shook both in pain and frustration, at the rip, at himself, at everything. He must have been making some horrid noise as he heard Tenna’s approaching voice on the edge of his consciousness. When did he even get back? How long had he been watching Spamton flounder around like a fool?
“Spam, what’s wrong?” His voice was an attempt to be soothing but Spamton could hear the trace notes of worry in his tone. The way was almost like one would talk to a frightened animal.
“IT’S ALL [[%$&!]] NO USE!!” He hears Tenna gasp as, with a loud rip, he tears apart the cloth in his hands. Momentum continued long past his stitches and into the intact fabric until what once was only a modest slash in his shirt was now a gaping hole.
Shit! With his rage now slightly alleviated, he could only stare at the mess he had made. Sadness took up the spot where his anger previously sat as he felt a wave of foolishness over his temper getting the better of him. Grinding his jaw he dropped his current disaster on the floor, he didn’t want to even look at it now.
“Spammy,” Tenna’s voice was even more quiet, as if just by proximity, he had become upset too. It only made Spamton feel worse about his meltdown and he put his hands between his glasses and face hoping it came off more as frustration. “It’s okay, we—we all have our moments.” Spamton could tell the taller darkener was getting closer to him before feeling him sit down beside him. “I tend to break things too when I get angry.” He humorously laughs, “A lot of things honestly. I can make a real mess for my crew. These things, they happen.”
It felt so easy when looking in from the outside to say that. Telling him that it's going to be okay when it's clearly not, caused Spamton's temper to flare back a little but he kept it in check this time. Instead he just continued to grind his jaw, doing no service to his teeth. He needed to calm himself. As if on queue, he ran fingers through his hair close to his temples where his glasses sat, catching on all the tangles and subsequently yanking out some strands on the way out. He tried to give it no mind as he shook them from where they caught on his joints, but he knew Tenna must have noticed.
With a deep exhale, Spamton calmed slightly. Running more hands into his hair, catching more strands, but smoothing out the chaos in his own way. He wasn't really in the mood to talk about it or even dignify a response back to Tenna who looked at him still with concern in his features. "I'M [[fine feathered friend]] NOW [[10/10]]."
"Okay," was all he got back in response and it was clear as day that Tenna wasn't done with the subject but held his tongue. Instead he stood back up and walked over to a bag laying haphazardly on the floor. He must have dropped it onto the ground earlier when he came into the room. "Here," he says, kneeling down before holding out an object that he's fished out of the bag.
It's a hairbrush. It's simple but not too cheaply made. The plastic casing around the black bristles is a bright red color and is reminiscent of Tenna's suit. It was the color they used to share. He takes it and begins carefully brushing his hair. It's a simple but effective ritual and once his hair is smoothed he finds he is also at ease once more. "Thank you," it's half muttered but he meant it genuinely.
"I realized I did not have one. Kinda doesn't make sense to own one when you don't have any hair," he gives a nervous laugh. "But I remembered how much pride you took in how your hair was styled back when we were—you know?"
He doesn't have to say it for Spamton to know what he means. His image was everything to him back then. It was a far cry from his sniveling Addison days, unable to make a sale and being forced to wear the hand-me-downs of those around him. With the modicum of dark dollars in his pocket, he remembers the first thing he bought before really hitting it big. It was the dye for his hair. If he was really going to be different, he had to look different. He had to catch eyes. He had to change his image. His white Addison hair was doing him no favors and so it had to go.
After that, he was very careful about his hair. It had become his pride and joy. It was the new him! He never let anyone touch it, even Tenna wasn't exempt from this rule. It occurs to him that it's been such a long time since he's thought about treating his hair right. In the years after his fall, he never had to redye his hair anymore. At the time he thought nothing of it, just something he no longer had to do. There was a lot on his mind in those days and his image was one of those things that eventually took a back seat. Not when there was the call of HEAVEN.
"I don't really know where you're planning on staying but…" Tenna pauses as he rummages around in the bag before pulling out a few bottles, all with bright fanciful labels. "You're always welcome to come back here and refresh yourself as it were. I'm prepared this time!" He says it with a bright smile on his screen.
Spamton eyes the bottles at first before snatching one of them up to inspect. They're high quality products for sure, nothing cheap. There's even a tub of hair product in the lineup.
"O-or you could take them with you! It doesn't really matter," Tenna's tone pivots with his mood, a sure sign that he's thinking much too hard about all this and is now doubting himself.
"NO, KEEP THEM [[here for a limited time]]!" He rushes to get the words out even if he doesn't know what he'll say next. Realizing the intrusive ad may have muddled the meaning, he reiterates. "I WANT YOU TO [[hold your loved ones tight with]] ONTO THEM. FOR ME."
"I can do that if that's what you want."
"I DO WANT." Spamton looks up at him with a smile and he tries to make it show.
"Oh, right. I have something else for you too." Tenna goes back to the bag and pulls out a nice set of clothes. A white dress shirt, black vest, and suit coat are folded and laying neatly on a black pair of slacks. Tenna deposits them into Spamton's arms before digging back in and pulling out a shoe box as well to lay on the floor next to him. He clears his throat in a manner more akin to habit than anything else. "I told you I'd get something for you in town. I hope it's up to your standards."
'What standards?', he wants to snark back but the feeling of new fabric in his hands is too tantalizing to even joke about. Carefully setting the clothes on the ground he stands up and immediately whips off his long shirt revealing the bare puppet body underneath.
"Spamton! A little warning next time would be nice!" Tenna's screen instantly flashes a soft pink.
"CATHODE [[why wait]] ARE YOU STILL SO SHY [[after sales rebates]] ALL WE'VE BEEN THROUGH? BESIDES, THERE'S NOTHING [[2]] SEE ANYWAY." Not anymore, he thinks to himself.
"You're gonna get me in trouble with the censors," Tenna jokes back, still rather nervous. He fiddles with one of his cuff link buttons as if looking for anything to distract him.
It's the kind of response Spamton expected. Tenna always tried to offload his feelings into excuses. The censors, mike, the audience: all things he could pivot to when he didn't want to really explain himself. For the most part Spamton put up with it since he was like that too, pivoting from what he really wanted to say.
Spamton was different now. Physically and mentally for sure, but maybe emotionally too. He knew it was not something Tenna could reasonably accept so quickly. That didn't mean it didn't hurt still to have Tenna react to his appearance with what he could only assume was disgust. It wasn't fair for his partner to have changed so little compared to him. When Tenna looked at him now was he only reminded of how he used to look?
He's put the dress shirt on in silence assuming neither of them had anything to say before Tenna speaks up, quieter this time. "I also want to respect your privacy, you know? I—well let's now beat around it, you have changed. Maybe I was a little rude earlier. I don't mean to stare. I want you to feel comfortable around me. So maybe I'm being a little more polite then I need to be given our history," with that he lets out a heavy breath that he must have been holding in. He turns his head to look down at Spamton and it's almost like a spotlight shining down on him. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."
Spamton was one leg into his slacks when he was almost stunned into silence by the apology. It wasn't something he was expecting for sure. Quickly, he slipped into the rest of the garment before responding back. "LISTEN [[ten piece]] I DON'T CARE IF YOU [[take a look]]. YOU CAN LOOK [[all weekend long]] IF YOU WANT. JUST DON'T—" He was struggling for the right words when a minor glitch ran through his body like a shiver that quickly cut the attempt off. Luckily it wasn't one of the more painful ones, more of an annoyance. Looking up though, it was enough to scare Tenna who looked concerned.
"DON'T!" Putting out his hand he was quick to interrupt anything Tenna could possibly say. "I CAN [[deal or no deal]] WITH EVERYONE ELSE IN THIS TOWN LOOKING AT ME [[like and subscribe]] I'M SOMETHING TO BE [[pity the fool]] BUT YOU—" he can feel his breathing increase. He needs to calm down. "[[it hurts, it burns]] TO SEE THAT FROM [[U]]."
"O-OH! I'm so—I didn't even consider—" Tenna shrinks, clearly embarrassed now. "I never meant it to come off like that!" There's panic in his voice.
"ANT PLEASE. RELAX. [[eye]] KNOW YOU DIDN'T MEAN IT [[that way]]. LET'S [[ready set start]] THIS OVER."
Tenna nods, though still unsure, "Okay."
"DESPITE [[everything everywhere all at once]] I STILL CAN'T [[stay away from these prices]]. THAT IS—" he pauses to take a break and calm himself. His new coat jacket is all that now lay on the floor and he picks it up, running his fingers over the fabric. "I HAVE MISSED TV." Even as he skirts is way around the words, the confession still warms his face to admit.
"You have?!" As Spamton suspected it would, Tenna instantly perks up. "Oh Spammy…" his tone is warm and soft. "Say it again?"
Of course he'd ask that. "NOT UNTIL YOU [[answer y/n]] MY QUESTION." Though Tenna was quiet, he took the silence as permission to continue. "DO [[U]] STILL WANT ME? EVEN AS I AM?" The words were spoken slowly as he fought down the dreaded fear that saying them out loud brought.
"I think I do, but it's hard. I've spent so long with my thoughts in the past, so you'll have to forgive me but I want to try harder… for you." He takes a big breath to steel himself. "When you ran I grabbed the phone instead of you. If I had just held onto you instead, could I have stopped all this? All this time that you've been gone I didn't want to face that fact. It feels like every single day I've missed you more than words can describe. I've hated this feeling. When I saw you again, every emotion filled me up, anger mostly, and I couldn't handle it. But—" Tenna crouches down to Spamton's level laying a hand on his shoulder. "I think the more time I’ve had to sit with it, the more I realize that I don't want you to leave me again, and I'm sorry it's taken me so long to realize that."
Spamton looks up at Tenna. There's a faint lopsided smile on his screen. He smiles back as best as he can, "APPOLOGY [[accept friend request]] BUG." Then before he can change his mind about it, he slips in, "I LOVE TV."
The colored light from Tenna's screen becomes blinding suddenly as he's brought to full attention. "Kiss me."
It was said so abruptly that it took him by surprise. As the gears turned, Spamton’s eyes became downcast behind his lenses. He couldn’t even kiss him if he tried, not like before, not with this cursed puppet body. His face wasn’t made to be gentle anymore, only harsh and biting.“ ANT…I CAN’T,” The words were short and slow to help avoid the unwanted ads.
Tenna paused for a moment. He could tell the larger TV was still looking at him intently, probably trying too hard to think of a response that would make Spamton feel better about his situation.
All at once the puppet could feel himself gently being lifted up by those large hands, coat slipping from his hands. He was brought in closer to that familiar screen, warm and buzzing with electricity. It was a comforting sensation that Spamton had deeply missed in his years of solitude.
“That doesn’t stop me from trying,” was all Tenna said before his lips were upon him. His projected lips still tingled with static, the fact that he could still feel that after everything that happened to his body was a relief. Dozens of short little kisses were pressed against his smooth plastic teeth as if Tenna intended on kissing every inch of his face.
Being showered in his intense affection, Spamton felt his internal machinery whirl and his little cracked heart-shaped object beat rhythmically in his chest. It was becoming almost a little too overwhelming but after so long without this, he did not want this to stop. This wasn’t a dream at the bottom of a garbage bin, Tenna was here, with him. Tenna wanted him. Tenna—Tenna did want him…still.
Suddenly Tenna pulled back with a jerk as if he had been shocked. Spamton missed the warmth immediately. “Spammy,” his voice sounded upset as he looked at him. “Are you crying?”
A hand shot up to cup his face in panic and sure enough, it was now becoming damp with tears. He wasn’t even aware he was doing it, heck he wasn't aware that he even could cry; however, the tears were there and worryingly they wouldn’t stop.
“I—I’m sorry Spam. I overstepped!” Oh no Tenna was backpedaling. It caused him to shrink and he could feel himself growing in his hands in comparison.
Spamton had to stop this before it progressed. He reached out and snatched Tenna’s tie, yanking on it to pull him towards him and out of his head. “[But wait]! YOU CAN’T JUST KISS AND [run don’t walk] ON ME!” His voice was an unflattering mess of emotion. Now that the screen was close again he let go of the tie to place his hands on the edge of the TV’s casing. Rubbing the smooth plastic underneath his thumbs, he leaned into the junction where Tenna's nose met the display and slotted his face there. The glass was warm and static fizzled across his wet cheeks. “Tens…” The nickname on his tongue was soft and clear.
Tenna seemed to instantly stabilize at the touch and Spamton could feel the grasp on him tighten as he was held. Both were quiet, just letting the ambient low hum of Tenna’s body soothe them.
After a while Spamton decided to speak up, “YOU DIDN’T DO ANYTHING [[wrong number]]. SO DON’T.” He leaves it at that and Tenna gives a slow nod in response.
It was nice like this, just being this close again and Spamton truly believed that maybe they could find a way. As he was lost in thought, Tenna's lips materialized sneaking in one quick peck against his puppet teeth that were now within reach. It was so sudden, Spamton was at a loss for words.
He could hear Tenna chuckle though. His hands, which had never left his casing, rubbed lazy little circles along the plastic. Tenna swayed slowly from side to side and the motion felt so nostalgic.
"Spammy? Would you maybe share this dance with me?"
Spamton leans back slowly to see the big nervous smile on his partner's screen, belaying the confidence in his words. He feels a chuckle bubble up from inside him. "HOW COULD I POSSIBLY [[refuse offer]]?"
They shift around, trying to remember how they had made this work in the past. Spamton settles his feet against Tenna's long legs. One hand is on his shoulder for stability while the other slots itself into one of Tenna's hands. The hand that isn't being held, cradles Spamton's back to keep him from falling.
The two of them probably look ridiculous as Tenna leads their slow shuffle across the office linoleum; though with no one else around, neither of them seem to care how they look. Classical music now begins to emanate from Tenna's speakers. His screen shining onto Spamton like a spotlight, looking at him with such a reverent fondness that Spamton cannot help but keep his gaze fixed up to match.
No words pass between them, only the motion of their smoldering affection, flames actively being fanned with each passing second. Spamton does not remember the last time he could enjoy himself like this, let alone dance. His heart now beats a steady rhythm, but it's no longer one of distress.
Unconsciously what remains of his tail, a small nub of a thing, wags happily. Due to the placement and size of Tenna's hand, it's a motion that doesn't escape his notice. The dreamy expression of his changes to one of surprise.
"Spam?" He shifts his hand down lower and Spamton can feel himself blushing in embarrassment. "Is that your tail?!" He's barely containing the excitement in his voice.
"WHAT'S IT [[2]] YOU?!" He bristles defensively because he's not sure how to respond.
But Tenna's mood cannot be stopped and a wide smile is projected onto his screen. His fingers dip slightly beneath the waistband of his slacks, just enough to touch the base of his tail through the fabric of his shirt. A tail which has still not stopped moving.
Stupid thing! Why does it gotta pull a stunt at a time like this?! "HEY HEY I [[thoughts and prayers]] YOU WERE TRYING TO BE POLITE."
"And yet it's you who keeps encouraging me to be more bold with my actions. Telling me I can look at you as much as I want," Tenna leans in slightly, bringing their faces closer. That static tickles his face. "And that it's not wrong to kiss you," his voice is little more than a whisper.
Shit, this was trouble. He knew he'd crumble like a house of cards if Tenna pushed any more.
Tenna simply nuzzled their noses together and backed away. "But I'll behave for now." There was just the slightest peak of fang in his smile and that, with the combination of Tenna's finger sliding against his tail, caused a shiver to run down Spamton's body. Afterwards he repositioned his hand again to a higher position.
Stupid tail! Stupid Tenna!
"I may be sorry for a great many of my actions but I won't be sorry about that. I won't be sorry for loving you. It’s been too long overdue. I'm sorry I kept pressing you into that contract, then immediately thinking the worst of you when you left, and when I saw you again calling you a rat, among other things. I just wanted to make it clear."
Spamton realizes too that after everything that's happened both far in the past and recently, he's not sorry for loving him either. It was this feeling that caused his downfall, who would he be to deny that?
"I'LL [[hold for you, and you only]] TO IT CATHODE. AFTER ALL, I'VE HEARD THAT FORGIVENESS IS ON A [[2 for 1 sale]] RIGHT NOW."
Tenna laughs, "Thank goodness for that, we better take advantage of that sale while it's here then."
Spamton simply beams back at his partner. "WOULDN'T [[sweet dreams]] OF MISSING SUCH AN OPPORTUNITY." Hand in hand, Spamton uses his grip on Tenna's shoulder to give him enough leverage to lean in and, swallowing the doubt inside of him, press his teeth to Tenna's screen in the semblance of a kiss. It causes a flower to bloom at the end of Tenna's nose with another laugh and he squeezes Spamton tight.
It’s not perfect, but it's progress. Spamton knows he's not the only one with issues after all. The worries in his head are placated for now and he prays to anyone that will listen that it will work out this time. Please. Heaven knows he's overdue for something good.