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Queen’s party—many would call it a rager but Swatch never stooped to using such crass words— had been going on for five… or was it six hours? And Swatch and the Swatchlings had been busy. Extremely busy. It wasn’t just the members of Queen’s entourage here; people from TV World were attending too. Including the Boss, Mr. Ant Tenna, so Swatch had made sure his bar was in tip-top shape in preparation. He’d pulled all of his stock.
And it had been an accident, he hadn’t even realized he’d grabbed the wrong bottle when Mr. Tenna, who was now quite drunk, asked him for a Blueberry Pi on the rocks. If he had been anyone but a Boss Darkner, Swatch would have cut him off. The man clearly didn’t handle his alcohol well. But Swatch would never dare risk his anger or the relations between Cyber City and TV World. (And besides, Mr. Spamton might kill him for doing that.)
So he’d unthinkingly, foolishly grabbed the bottle of dark blue liquor, uncorked it with a hiss, and splashed it into Tenna’s glass. Tenna had thanked him and walked off with the exaggerated care of the inebriated.
And only then Swatch had glanced down at the label. And he’d done a double-take. Oh no.
“Mr. Tenna—” Oh, but he was already too far away to hear.
Queen sauntered by, sipping from her ever-present glass of battery acid. In a growing panic, Swatch flagged her down.
“LOL What Is The Tea Bro, You Look Like Someone Just—” She caught the sight of the bottle he was holding and gesturing to. “Oh Damn LMAO. How Did That Get Here? Did You: Raid My Private Stash Dude?”
“Of course not, My Lady, never, it was in the stock of Blueberry Pi—”
“Huh. Damn, I Was: Wondering Where That Went.” She looked at the label and her visor blinked exclamation marks.
“My lady, Mr. Tenna is drinking it. I… may have… accidentally… poured him the wrong drink…” Swatch sweated nervously under her implacable expression.
Then she burst out laughing, which might have somehow been worse than what he was expecting from her. “OMG! LMAO, Eh, He’ll Probably Be Fine, I Mean You Didn’t Pour The Whole Thing Right? It’s Gonna Be So: Cringe. I Am So Recording This For Later.”
“My Lady, please, should we intervene? Is he going to be in any danger? He’s not a Cyberworld Darkner—”
“Nah, Dude, Chillax. This Is Gonna Be: A Fuckin’ Riot.” She downed the rest of her drink and this time he checked the label carefully before refilling her glass without being asked. Then he took the extremely questionable bottle that he’d grabbed by accident and put it on the furthest shelf in the back room. No one would be served from that bottle again tonight.
Swatch tried to tamp down the anxiety and guilt as he saw Tenna smack his lips and place the empty glass on a nearby table. It would be… well, it would be something, all right.
****
Spamton was feeling nicely tipsy, just the way he liked to be during these parties. Better to have your wits about you at Queen’s Mansion. You just never knew when a random idea would strike her, and drunk people often became… eh, volunteers for her… weirder ones. Or victims. No one ever died, but he'd seen some weird shit go down.
Speaking of which, his gaze sought out Tenna, who was loitering not too far from the bar. Of course. The TV Darkner never knew when enough was enough at a party. He tried to be a social drinker and usually just ended up being a jovial and sometimes soppy emotional drunk. He did better when he and Spamton drank alone. Usually. Tenna had just put his drink down, something that stained his glass dark blue. Spamton wandered over, feeling a little flirty. While this was a business and social event, the evening was getting rowdy enough that Spamton knew he and Tenna could probably bow out to Spamton’s room not long from now, for a… different kind of fun. He smirked, feeling his face warm a little.
“Hey, good lookin’,” he greeted cheerfully, giving Tenna’s hip a friendly nudge. Tenna smiled down at him and then hiccuped. Spamton laughed. “Had a little too much there, Tens? You might want to [ease of access] off a little there, Swatch’s bar ain’t like Ramb’s if you know what I mean.”
“Wha… what’s… hmph wrong with Ra—hic! Erm, sorry, I—hic!—I—HIC—Jiminy Cri—HIC!” Tenna frowned and his hand moved to his stomach, massaging the soft silicone beneath his dress shirt. Spamton tried not to notice how it jiggled just the tiniest bit with each hiccup.
“You all right?” he asked. Tenna was obviously drunk, but he looked a bit uncomfortable now. Tenna nodded, pressing the back of his other hand to his mouth. A tiny moan slipped past, followed by another hiccup and burp.
“Um… kind of… HURP— mm, ‘scuse me… full…” he mumbled, his screen flushed. He kneaded at his belly, which was now gurgling audibly. Spamton’s ears, as it were, pricked up. What had Tenna drank? Feeling warm and happy, sure, feeling emotional, normal, even feeling sick, yes, Tenna often complained about that when he drank too much but feeling full? Just from alcohol? He wasn’t so drunk he was falling over, so…
“What did you drink?” Spamton grabbed the glass and gave it a curious sniff. It smelled overwhelmingly like blueberries.
“A… um… Blueberry somethin’? I thi—OURPH!” Tenna’s flush darkened. “Oh geez. Spam—hic—uh—” His fingers clenched over his belly and he squeaked in surprise, looking down. Spamton followed his gaze and… was it just him or did that red dress shirt look a little tighter?
Blueberry Pi didn’t usually trigger this kind of reaction in someone who drank it. It was a carbonated liquor, sure, but this was weird. Maybe it was because Tenna wasn’t a Cyberworld Darkner?
Oh, wait. Spamton did know one kind of alcohol that triggered a reaction like this. It was a lot like Blueberry Pi, in fact, it had often gotten mistaken for Blueberry Pi once it had entered the market. He knew what it was because he used to sometimes hawk it on the streets in the old days. Nasty stuff—or, fun, depending on your persuasion. It came from that one site, he couldn’t remember the name. Devious something. And Queen had some? He shouldn’t have been surprised, she had all kinds of weird shit in the Mansion. He knew she was a bit of a freak, but he was surprised she’d have it out at a party like this. IF it was what he thought it was.
“Uh, hey Tens, maybe we should—”
A deafening belch from above shocked him and most of the room into silence. Spamton gaped up at Tenna, who was turning a shade of red Spamton had not known him capable of, smoke slowly rising from his vents. A couple of giggles broke out and slowly the conversation levels rose back to normal, though several people shot the Lord of Screens curious or amused looks. Tenna looked mortified, muffling several softer burps behind his hand. Spamton also couldn’t help the blush that crawled up his neck from everyone’s stares. He wanted to shout at them to mind their own business.
Spamton felt someone watching him especially intensely and his attention swung over to the bar. Swatch was making eye contact with him, looking as embarrassed as Tenna was. Slowly Swatch shook his head, making a “cut him off” gesture under his neck and then pointed to Tenna and then to the door. Spamton couldn’t hear him but he could read lips well enough to read “I am SO sorry” from across the room.
Spamton hoped Swatch could lip-read “I’m going to kill you later for this.” That idiot had screwed up big time. Briefly he wished Mike was here to help handle this impending catastrophe. But Mike was back in TV World keeping things there under control. No, Spamton had to be the responsible Darkner in the room today.
“Oh—URPHH—S-Spammy—it—hic—it feels—” whimpered Tenna, both hands now massaging his stomach. He looked down helplessly at Spamton, hazy and overfull. Spamton saw it, then—Tenna’s middle swelling outward, not much, but enough that his belt was starting to dig into the underside. The gurgling was getting louder. Ohhhh shit.
“Ah, we—we really need to [get out of here]! C’mon, Tens, come on,” he coaxed, trying not to panic. He seized one of Tenna’s hands and the CRT thankfully stumbled after him without complaint, small moans and burps trailing in his wake. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Queen, who tapped something on a popup and gave him a little smile and finger wiggle.
As he hurried down the mazelike halls, dragging Tenna behind him, he heard the telltale ping that he’d gotten a message. He opened it, scanning it quickly. It was from Queen.
Hi, Don’t Freak He Will Be Ok Esp. When Ur Back in Quote Unquote TV Land Or W/e. He Only Had: A Little. Have Fun ;) LMAO Ok I’m Bored Now Byeeee
Spamton gritted his teeth. She’d confirmed what he’d suspected. Tenna hadn’t gotten an innocent Blueberry Pi on the rocks. He’d gotten the other stuff, somehow. Thanks to Swatch’s carelessness.
“A little” of which had already turned Tenna into an insensate, bloated mess. He thanked [[HEAVEN]] that he hadn’t somehow downed the entire bottle.
“Almost there, Tens.” They got to the hallway where his room was and he hastily punched the code for his door. No old-fashioned locks and keys here in Cyber City, oh no, it was all electronic. Tenna bumped against his back, muffling another belch and a muttered apology. Spamton didn’t stagger, to his credit. But he did jump as he felt Tenna’s hand trail over his shoulder and the back of his neck in a decidedly… proprietary way, raising pixels in its wake. How could Tenna be thinking about that when he was like… this?
The door opened and Spamton had never been so happy to see his room, except for maybe the first time he’d ever seen it. Especially his bed. His giant bed, which normally he would spread out on and roll all over, was now going to be given the job of keeping Tenna quiet and comfortable. Well. At least comfortable.
He took a deep breath and locked the door behind him, turning back to his partner. Tenna turned a slow circle, momentarily distracted from his own state by the impressive surroundings. Spamton realized he’d never brought him back to his room here before. Tenna gave an impressed whistle at the decor. He must have been really out of it, because Tenna generally criticized the atmosphere of every place other than TV World. “Nice—hic—digs, Spammy.”
Spamton felt oddly bashful from the compliment. He brushed aside the feeling. Focus. “Um, maybe you should, uh, get on the bed, I don’t know how [bad news bears] this is gonna get.” He realized just after offering this that his sheets and probably the mattress would be trashed before this was over. It was ok. He was a Big Shot; he could get them replaced. Tenna was more important. Huh. It was weird to just think that so easily. When had Spamton started thinking so much of his business partner-slash-fuckbuddy-slash-friend? Enough of that! Focus.
Ok. What did he know about the symptoms of drinking this stuff? Fullness. Check. General loopiness. Check, although Tenna had already been drinking before this. Turning blue? Well… Spamton glanced at Tenna, who was obediently sitting on the bed, back to rubbing his swelling gut and mumbling to himself in between soft hiccups. Between his straining buttons, yeah, his normally purplish-gray silicone skin was looking a smidge more purplish-blue. Ok. Turning blue, check. Filling with juice—well, that was the reason for the swelling, although Spamton hoped that since Tenna hadn’t had much, he wouldn’t fill up completely. Spamton had seen it happen, but only to code-based Darkners. Crap! Tenna was full of wires and circuits and machinery! What if the juice shorted out something important in there?
“Sp—hurp—Spammmmmmmy,” whined the CRT, shaking him from his fretting. Well, it was too late to undo what had been done, he’d just have to tackle things as they came. But he was calling in the big guns if something really bad happened. Queen could fix Tenna herself if this stupid booze broke something. He hurried to Tenna’s side, climbing onto the bed.
“I’m here, Big Guy.”
“Why’m’I… I… oh stars ‘m so full.” Tenna leaned back as though to give his gut more room, panting. His tongue, Spamton noted with concern, had turned blue. His belly let out a loud rumble and pushed out further over his belt, sinking towards his lap as it filled and filled. The silicone was definitely tinted blue, though not a full, deep blueberry-blue, which Spamton took as a good sign.
“Tens… your belt…” The leather was creaking unhappy as it tried to hold back the sudden flood of silicone flesh, and not just from his belly. Spamton could see the shirt pull tight and begin to untuck around Tenna’s love handles and his already tight black pants were looking way tighter than usual. Oh, great. Anywhere the guy had flexible silicone, this stupid juice was probably targeting.
“It’s so—OOURPH—s-so tight…” whimpered Tenna, shakily reaching down to his belt, undoing it with clumsy fingers. It sprang open and he moaned with relief his gut sloshed forward, unceremoniously popping his pants button, settling onto his widening thighs. The sight of it just… growing like that… did something to Spamton. He tried to shake off the tiny flutter in his lower belly.
The sight of Tenna groping his own expanding middle, a magenta flush burning in his screen as he moaned with abandon, was making that really hard right now. Hochi MAMA…
“I—uh—we should probably get your [clothes off, baby] so that you don’t, uh… ruin them?” he suggested, telling himself it was NOT just an excuse to knead and grope Tenna’s body himself. No no, it wasn’t weird, it was just that he was tipsy himself and, well, it was Tenna...
“Righ—buuurph—ugh—right,” slurred Tenna, clutching his side as his belly growled unmercifully and another couple inches of bluish flesh bulged free under his shirt, which had begun to slide up the growing mass. His buttons were dramatically losing the war, diamond-shaped patches of silicone exposed in the widening gaps between them. Even his sleeves were starting to pinch around his upper arms.
Man, I hope he can magic up another outfit here, I got nothing that’s gonna fit him, Spamton thought abruptly. Tenna, once he came back to his senses, wasn't going to be pleased about the state of his clothing. At least the party had been dressy casual and he wasn’t wearing his beloved red jacket.
Tenna shakily reached up to unbutton his shirt, which was beginning to pop seams, but he needn’t have bothered. His sudden gasp of surprise was broken by a loud gurgle and louder burp. He clamped a hand over his mouth as his belly surged forward once more, scattering the buttons all over. Spamton ducked the rain of buttons and then sat back on his heels, eyes glued to the sight of Tenna’s belly, hips and thighs puffing up by inches with a thick slosh. The room filled with the unmistakable sound of the juice continuing to fill every space it could. Tenna groaned, though Spamton couldn’t tell if it was frustration or arousal, as his gut, packed with juice, ballooned outward, sinking down atop his thighs, overflowing them, inching just past his knees now. Even his chest looked softer, although the metal panel in the center remained thankfully untouched from what Spamton could see. The seams in his sleeves had broken, gray flesh poking through the holes. The shirt was ruined, and his pants weren’t far behind.
And it was one of the hottest things Spamton had ever seen. Aw, fuck me. Licking suddenly dry lips, he ignored the sudden tightness in his own pants and cleared his throat as the sound of more ripping fabric filled the air. “Tens—your pants—”
“I—URPH—I am AWARE, Spamton!” Tenna sounded decidedly more sober than he had before, his aggravated shout mingling with the POP-POP-POP of the seams along his thighs and backside breaking open, his waistband finally tearing as the rolls of juicy fat overpowered the tight stitching. His black pants were shredded in a dozen places as this latest wave of growth eased. Tenna panted, holding a handful of his belly, screen a nearly blinding shade of magenta as he slowly reached over the rest of his bloated form. Spamton tried and failed to look at where his cheesy TV Time boxers were only sort of containing the fat, jiggling globes of his ass. Oh, Angel have mercy. Spamton had always been an ass man, and Tenna’d always had a nice one, but now… He felt sweat beading on his forehead.
Get it together, you horndog! He needs help, not for you to be… panting over him like a bitch in heat!
And since when was seeing Tenna swell up and burst out of his clothes like someone had shoved a water hose down his throat a turn-on for Spamton? Fuck, what is wrong with me? He could blame the alcohol, but the circumstances they found themselves in were sobering him up quickly.
“Tenna… are you ok?” he asked softly, after Tenna said nothing after a moment. They were both on edge, waiting for the sound of sloshing and gurgling to start again. “Anything… shorting out in there?”
“If there were, you’d be seeing a lot of smoke and I wouldn’t—hic—uh… I wouldn’t be able to say much,” replied Tenna thickly. He swallowed, pressing his fingers experimentally into the soft rolls of his middle. His massive, sapphire-blue-tinted globe of a belly was definitely the centerpiece of it all, but Spamton couldn’t stop his gaze from roving over the TV’s hefty love handles, plump thighs, that backside that would never fit in his desk chair now—hell, even his chest had filled out and his upper arms had thickened. Silently Tenna pulled the scraps of his ruined dress shirt off. Spamton jerked out of his daze and helped him remove what remained of his pants, blushing hotly. Now that Tenna was mostly naked sans overtaxed briefs, Spamton was relieved to notice that while his silicone flesh was tinged with blue, it was only lightly. The metal portions of his body had shifted a little to accommodate the swelling but he was relieved that juice hadn’t leaked anywhere it shouldn’t have and hurt Tenna.
Tenna grunted in discomfort and spread his heavy legs, letting his belly spill between them. There was another bubbling groan from it and both of them stiffened. Tenna leaned back on his one hand, wincing, and massaged his massive gut with the other as it inched forward just a bit more. Spamton stared, transfixed. As it finally stopped, he hiccuped and let out a few small belches, and then a long sigh. “Whew. Ok… ok.”
There were a few minutes of silence, both of them worried that the sound would start again. When it did not, Spamton let out a long breath. “Ok. I think you’re in the [[clear caches.]]”
“Yeah… I-I think so. Nghh… God, it’s so heavy… Oh God,” rasped Tenna as he pushed himself up into a kneeling position with considerable effort, his massive gut lying between fat thighs. “Holy moly. Is that… that’s all me.” Tenna squeezed the sides of his stomach gently, in disbelief, rubbing circles over its vast girth. He couldn’t even reach all the way around it. Spamton commanded his eyes to look away but they disobeyed, much to his growing arousal and embarrassment. All he could think about was touching his poor bloated partner.
Fuck. Spamton felt his face warm up under the spots of blush he wore high on each cheekbone and cleared his throat. He felt his cock twitch as his eyes were irresistibly drawn back to that belly, so big it had overflowed Tenna’s thighs, so round and heavy and full, the blue-tinged surface practically begging for him to rub it, to dig his fingers in and listen to Tenna beg him for more—
Stop! Stop stop stop.
Tenna cleared his throat. “You, uh. Ok, Spammy?” His voice sounded kind of husky.
Oh shit. “I should be asking you that,” Spamton responded unthinkingly, his heart racing.
Tenna shifted uncomfortably, giving an embarrassed laugh. “Well, I—uff—I feel like a water balloon. God, it—I really thought I was going to pop for a minute there. But I feel…l think ok, otherwise. Full. Heavy. Not sick.” He shifted again, screen glowing red as pixelated sweat trickled down it. “Oh Angel… I’m huge. This is so… mnn.” As Spamton watched in shock, his touches turned more into caresses, and he panted in desperate arousal. Oh fuck, he’s as turned on by this as I am. Spamton bit his lip to hold back a groan as he watched Tenna try to thrust his hips, and it made all the soft parts of him wobble. The TV made a frustrated whining noise, squeezing harshly at his own belly, trying and failing to reach beneath it to his cock. Spamton unconsciously pressed his hand to his groin as he imagined how much Tenna was probably leaking down there. Did his cum taste like bluebe—
Spamton jumped as Tenna made a sound close to a sob. “Oh—hrp—God, Spammy, I’m sorry, I—I ruined the evening and I probably embarrassed myself in front of everyone and I just… it feels so good and I can’t even reach because I’m too fat—God, I’m a mess, don’t look at me, I’m sorry, I’m sor—ah!” His attempt to shrink was quickly arrested by the internal pressure of the juice pushing back and he froze. The sudden pressure increase forced a few burps out of him as he reversed size back to normal. “All right… we a-HURP—we are not shrinking, folks,” he mumbled, embarrassed.
“Don’t fucking apologize, it wasn’t your fault! You didn’t ruin anything, ok? Trust me, my evening is not… it’s definitely not…” He knew Tenna could see him blushing and more importantly, he knew Tenna could see how aroused he was. Fuck it.
“Spamtmmph!” Tenna’s attempt at speaking up was cut off as the addison basically took a flying leap, landed awkwardly, and then scrambled awkwardly over his chest to kiss him. Spamton moaned as Tenna opened up to him eagerly, the taste of alcohol and blueberries flooding his mouth.
For a moment, he panicked, and then remembered that no, this wasn’t contagious like code bloat. But could the liquor affect him too? No, as far as he knew, it couldn’t. But would that be so bad if it did? It was only temporary and it might be fun, he thought as body grew warm and he felt a flood of wetness between his legs.
“Oh—mmm—fuck, Tenna!” he gasped between messy kisses, reaching down eagerly and groping the round tits the TV had now. Tenna groaned loudly and arched into the touch. Spamton ran his hand down his control panel, feeling how the thick, engorged silicone squashed over it. “Oh my God… that was so fucking hot!” He ground desperately against Tenna’s chest, needing friction. Tenna gasped and mewled under him, sliding his hand under Spamton’s crotch and rubbing circles against his bulge. “Oh fuck—”
“Spammy, I had no idea—”
“What, the—oh god yes right there—the thing in the limo wasn’t a—”
“I thought—”
“Shut up,” gasped Spamton, practically ripping open his dress shirt, yanking his tie free, needing to be naked as fast as possible. “How the fuck do you look so sexy like this?”
Tenna turned a shade of crimson so vibrant that Spamton was nearly blinded for a moment. “I—I mean—you think—?”
Spamton blinked the spots away from his eyes. “I couldn’t look away, I dunno, maybe I’m just a pervert like you—” (“Hey!” protested the CRT) “—but oh God when you started moaning like that? Angel.” He couldn’t stop touching Tenna. Tenna protested as he slid off his chest, though his protests immediately dwindled as Spamton groped and squeezed his love handles. He rubbed himself up against the rolls of fat, amazed at how much they gave under his hands. He wriggled his fingers under Tenna’s painfully stretched briefs and grinned up at the CRT.
“You think you can, ah, take these off? Or do we need to get more of that [magic potion] into ya?” He leered, leaning against Tenna’s soft sides as the Boss Darkner spluttered and scowled playfully down at him.
“Spamton.” Tenna leaned back, huffing with each movement as the extra weight shifted on his body, and tried to lift his hips only to immediately fall back on his haunches with a full-body jiggle. He sighed and gripped his belly to make it stop. Spamton couldn’t hide the snort of laughter. Tenna gave him an exasperated glance and then carefully straightened one leg and then the other, leaned back, and with a lot of wobbling and only a few substitute curse words, managed to wriggle out of his briefs with relieved grunt. Spamton thought he’d have trouble getting upright again, but Tenna was a lot stronger than he looked—he forgot that sometimes. Even with the extra heft, he was able to get back to a kneeling position, letting out a choked sigh as his freed, dripping cock buried itself in his underbelly. Tenna groaned, steam starting to leak from his vents as he rutted as best he could against the bed.
Spamton blinked himself back to awareness, giving himself a light smack on the cheek. Focus, Big Shot. Dammit, why was every single thing about this incredibly hot??
“Yeah, keep doin’ that, Big Guy,” he purred, walking around to Tenna’s backside, openly admiring the way the flesh bounced and rippled with Tenna’s movements.
“Sp-Spammy, please, please keep touching me,” gasped Tenna, looking desperately over his shoulder at him.
“I gotcha, Tens, don’t worry,” murmured Spamton, grabbing two handfuls of that round, jiggling ass. “Dayum, Tenna!” He squeezed and fondled the rotund cheeks, and was rewarded with a wanton moan as he gave them a good slap, mesmerized by their movement. He was so hard he felt lightheaded. He quickly shucked the rest of his clothing, his cock aching and his inner thighs damp with his slick. Tenna gasped in surprise as Spamton began to thrust desperately against him, pushing the flesh apart to slide his cock over Tenna’s access port.
“Nnnghhh… Spammy…” Tenna moaned. “I—I’m not gonna—please—” His rutting was getting more frantic. His voice cut off in a high-pitched staticky whine as Spamton bit at the soft silicone. Spamton growled in response, pistoning his hips roughly and wishing he’d thought to grab the damn lube so he could properly fuck Tenna.
“Fucking… yes… do it… I wanna see you fuck yourself with your own fat gut… c’mon, Tens… you’re so… ohmygod!—” His cock jerked and his knees buckled as he came unexpectedly, splattering cum against Tenna’s twitching port and the plush flesh surrounding it. He felt his face burn—he’d wanted to last longer but apparently his body had other ideas. His cunt pulsed as slick and semen dripped onto the blanket beneath him.
Fuck, he still felt so aroused. Addisons had a quick turnaround, but even for him this felt fast. Tenna’s increasingly loud moans and grunts probably had something to do with that.
“Wai—” His yelp was cut off as the fattened CRT abruptly reached back and grabbed him around the torso. Tenna yanked him around and without ceremony, pressed him up against his mouth. Spamton keened, arching his hips into Tenna’s hot mouth as that huge tongue licked him from thigh to chest. His legs shook as Tenna’s tongue pressed against his over-sensitive groin, soaking his lower body in blue-tinged spit. Spamton couldn’t think straight—he didn’t want to finish before Tenna did—
“Tenna wait—oh shit—wait—“
He yelped in painful ecstasy as Tenna’s finger eased slowly into his throbbing, soaked cunt. The stretch stung, but it also felt amazing and he ground down onto it unthinkingly, chasing that sensation of being filled.
He felt, rather than heard, the vibrations of Tenna’s moan against his cock as the CRT came, and it wrenched a second orgasm from him in turn with a ragged shout. Tenna was relentless, sucking at him until Spamton whimpered and nudged him back with his knees. Tenna let him lay back in his hands, panting, his blacked-out screen smeared with drool and cum. Spamton was so wrung-out it hurt, but in a good way. He clenched around something solid and groaned, slick oozing out around where Tenna’s finger was still deep inside him.
“T-T-Tennahhhh…” he rasped weakly, voice shot.
“You ok?” asked his partner softly, wiping his mouth off. He glanced down at the blue stains on his hand with a curious “hmm.”
“N… yuh… just need… [recharge cycle]… a moment…”
“Well, I hope you’re not finished yet. Because…” The digit still inside Spamton crooked just so and he whimpered, running one hand over his face, “… I’m definitely not.”
Spamton’s eyes widened as Tenna laid him on his belly, finally removing his finger from inside him. It was kind of like lying on a waterbed, except he could hear the sounds of gurgling and Tenna’s systems running. He pressed one hand down experimentally, watching the flesh press back. Tenna shifted underneath him, reaching up to stroke his hair and neck.
“Geez, Ant,” breathed Spamton as his whirling mind calmed, “you got so big.”
“Mmhmm.”
Spamton slowly rolled over, spreading his arms over Tenna’s girth. He couldn’t even begin to reach around it. “Fuck me,” he mumbled. It was so soft but still firm beneath him, and he dug his fingers in lightly like he’d wanted to, relishing the squeeze and give. He gave it a pat, watching it ripple a little from the impact as Tenna grunted in discomfort.
“I’d like to, Spam, but logistically that—hic—watch it—might be a little… challenging right now,” admitted Tenna behind him, voice growing heated again. Spamton’s head whipped around and he felt his heart begin to race. And damned if it wasn’t doing something for him downstairs too because his flagging erection was doing its best to get back in the game.
“I…” Spamton sat upright, knowing he looked wrecked and flushed and vulnerable. He let his thighs fall open and Tenna made a quietly appreciative noise. “I think we can find a way to make that [working 9 to 5], Big Guy…” He gave Tenna’s belly a gentler pat, grinning widely. “Do you need me to touch your poor dick?”
Tenna pouted at him adorably, playing along. “Please, Spamton, it’s so lonely under there, and I can’t even reach it… Cause I’m too big… Come on, ~your TV~ is whining…”
Spamton let out a bark of laughter. “Yeah, I can do that, Tens… But I need a drink of water first and I think we’ll want the [Lube 50% Off Valentine’s Day Sale]...”
****
He lost track of time after that but eventually, worn out, sore, and having come more times than he could count, he found himself lying atop Tenna’s slightly deflated but still round belly, unable to move but fine with that. His sheets and mattress, like he predicted, were ruined, stained purplish-blue with juice, among other things. He’d worry about that tomorrow.
Tenna’s hand landed gently on his sweat-damped, limp body. Spamton sighed as his lover—fuck, yeah, ok, now he was using that term, file that away for later—slowly caressed him. The TV tossed away the red flower that had bloomed from his nose.
“Next time we come to one of Queen’s parties—”
“Next time?” Spamton managed to lift his head, incredulous. “After what happened to you, you still want there to be a next time?”
“Well… we had a good time, didn’t we? The episode didn’t go how we expected but the plot twist ended up being pretty fun, right?”
Cathode and his TV metaphors. He cleared his throat. “It was…” I think this awakened something in me. “It was… it was pretty wild. No complaints.”
“Good. Me neither… except the part where I got a tainted drink, I would’ve liked to know about that in advance.” Tenna yawned.
“Er, yeah, about that…”
From the hallway, you could hear Tenna’s wail of “WHAT DO YOU MEAN PEOPLE DRINK IT ON PURPOSE??”
****
In her suite, Queen replayed the video she’d taken for the hundredth time, giggling to herself.
****
Back at the bar, Swatch put away the last of the glasses, hoping that come tomorrow he wouldn’t get mauled to death by TV World’s Boss.
****
In the very back of Swatch’s storeroom sat an innocuous, deceptive bottle. Easy to overlook except if one actually bothered to check the label:
Deviantart Specialty Wineries: Blueberry Pi Filling Flavor.