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Tenna hesitated on the edge of the bed, one foot planted on the ground while the other remained in the warmth beneath the blankets. His torso was curled forward, one hand gently stroking the hair of his sleeping mailman, the other drumming against his chassis as he thought his predicament through.
In twenty minutes, he was scheduled to meet Mike at the studio so he could be fitted for his brand new suit; a dazzling valentine red tailcoat speckled lavishly with flashing sequences that were sure to blow the audience away when he arrived at Castle Town’s Christmas Eve Extravaganza.
The only difficulty was Spamton. Not that he was a difficulty! Certainly not! Tenna could never accuse him of being such after what he did to him! It was his fault really, that he was in this situation. It was his fault that Spamton had a tendency to wake up scared. Scared Tenna had abandoned him. Or died. That he was back in the trash. He would calm down fairly quickly if Tenna was still in bed when he tore himself out of those dreams, there to cling to, to offer a warm body and a comforting voice. But if he wasn't there…
Tenna couldn't leave Spamton alone, to wake up without his partner in a sea of cold sheets. He didn't want to either. He was just as scared he’d return to their apartment to find it empty, bedsheets askew and phone off the hook.
He couldn't leave Spamton. He couldn't wake him up either, His mailman slept badly enough as it was, he wasn't going to contribute to his lack of rest.
Normally the solution would be simple, he’d just call Mike and tell him to reschedule. But… the party was only a few days away. He shouldn't be putting Mike in a time crunch, especially after how… how sick he was getting of Tenna’s demands lately. He didn't need to be getting snappy towards Mike… or glooby. Again.
So that left only one option, to take Spamton with him. It wouldn't be too difficult, his partner was small enough that Tenna could carry him as easily as a Lightner could carry a kitten. He could just wrap him in a blanket and carry him to the TV building… past the blaring music of those musical Darkner’s “Hip Hop” shop. Hmm… Spamton tended to be a heavy sleeper, but he wasn’t THAT heavy. And even if Tenna did manage to get him into Mike’s room without him losing any shut eye, Mike would probably wake him up with his… Motormouthing. And insistent asking of questions he should already know the answer to.
There was a solution to this problem, an… unorthodox solution but a solution nonetheless. A way to block out all the noise, keep him warm, keep him close. They had done it before… years and years ago. Before… any of this happened.
They hadn’t talked about it since they had been reunited. It had only been a month and a half! They had spent that time on more important things like discussing the years they had missed with each other, and arguing about those missed years, and then crying about the fact that they had argued. And of course shopping, and dancing, and checking out each other's butts. (Both while shopping and dancing).
A lot of things had changed about Spamton since their glory days, but just as many things had stayed the same. He still loved eating dollars, and fried food, and sparkling water, and talking until he fell asleep. Would he still like… this?
Tenna pressed into the mattress and gently shifted the little Mailman into his hands. He fit easily. He was still soft, even if it was a plastic soft instead of a fuzzy soft. He still preferred cashmere pajamas on cold nights. He still slept with his mouth wide open. Surely he wouldn't mind what Tenna planned to do to him, at the very least he’d prefer it to the other options, right?
Tenna took a deep breath, opened his mouth, and carefully, carefully, lowered his snoozing mailman into the awaiting gape.
The little plastic feet went in first, landing gently on his wet tongue and sliding towards the back. Spamton shivered a little when the static washed over his body, but he didn't wake. Tenna lifted his head, and his partner slipped deeper in.
He was so small. Almost his entire body fit inside Tenna’s mouth without issue. When all but his head and arms had landed inside, the TV Darkner closed his lips under his partner’s arms and allowed his lower body to become acquainted with his tongue. He was as slow and gentle as he could be, making sure his partner was slicked with enough lubricating saliva for a smooth descent. Spamton was beginning to relax into it, drool leaking from his slack jaw as the moist heat coated his body. Tenna parted his lips slightly, allowing the mailman’s chin to slip inside. He gulped.
Just like that, Spamton was sucked in, out of the view of any audience member who could have been watching. His legs and hips were in Tenna’s throat now, a sizable bulge in the rubber. His head and arms were still in the mouth, quickly being coated in saliva. Tenna put his palm against his throat and swallowed again. The bulge disappeared.
Tenna ran a hand over his body as his little mailman journeyed down. Down, down, down, past the beating heart, the switches and cables in the ribcage, down into his gut. He let out a heavy breath, and carefully fondled his rubber belly to make sure Spamton had settled into a comfortable position. Legs slightly bent, arms curled over his chest, nose pointed towards the airway, there, nice and cozy. Tenna unbuttoned his pajama shirt and flipped a few switches as he rose from bed. Digestion off, of course. Noise canceling on, and heat adjusted just how Spamton used to like it.
By the time Tenna had gotten dressed and started on his walk to the TV Studio, he was beginning to feel very pleased with himself. Not only had he drummed a seemingly undrummable conundrum with barely a hitch, but he’d made sure his partner was safe and cozy in a secret little spot no one would ever suspect. And if no one knew where Spamton was, then no one could take him away! Ha!
“Oh Ant you clever tube TV you~” He whispered to himself as he hopped along. “What a perfect idea that was. No one will ever suspect a thing.”
…
Tenna was definitely hiding something. Battat was not dumb. (Everyone might say he was dumb, but he was totally not.) He was a genius theorist, and he had geniusly deducted that Tenna had some kinda secret on his lips. Perhaps… a secret that would get him one step closer to figuring out who the hell Mike was?
“What’s on your mind boss?” He asked as he adjusted the sleeve of Tenna’s new suit.
Tenna jolted. “Ah! Nothing Mike! Just thinking about the Party!” He put his arm back out so his employee could continue fitting it.
Battat frowned over the sewing pins between his teeth. Yah, right. If he was thinking about the party, he would be talking about the party. Loudly. Incessantly. Something was totally wrong. He moved the ladder a few feet to the left to pin Tenna’s other arm.
“Aw come on Boss!” He probed. “I know ya better than any Darkner out there! I can tell there’s something you wanna tell me.”
Tenna’s mouth stiffened into a line. His antenna twisted.
“Come on big guy, you can tell me anything! It’s me! You know me! Motormouth Mike!”
“I know I just… I don't want you telling anyone.”
“Whaaaat? Boss! You know I'd never tell anyone nothing about any of your personal private eye secrets! I never told nobody nothing! Not even about the time you… you know!”
Tenna had never actually told him any secrets. But he had probably told the real Mike lots of secrets. Super secret Mike secrets. So he had to act the part.
“Mmmmmhm… I can’t! You would think it’s… queer!”
He was pretty sure by “queer” Tenna meant “weird” and not “gay” but he couldn't rule out the possibility. Hmmm, he would need to rethink his approach, give Tenna a little time to settle his nerves and loosen his lips.
“That’s alright boss.” He shrugged. “I'm not here to make ya say something you don’t wanna say.” He took a few steps down the ladder and reached for Tenna’s waist. “Uh, Boss? Could you shrink a couple feet? I need a better angle.”
“Oh! Of course Mike!”
Tenna lowered his arms and rapidly decreased, while the shape of something… significant rapidly increased its presence in his stomach. He gasped and shot back up to regular height.
“Ow! Sorry! Ah!” His hands hid the now squirming shape. “Mike! It’s not what it looks like!”
Battat’s genius theorist brain grabbed its go-bag and leapt out the window. He opened his mouth, and the first thing that came to mind shot out like a bullet from a gun.
“BOSS YOUR PREGNANT?????”
…
Spamton gently drifted out of a dreamless sleep. He was enveloped in total darkness. Tenna’s heartbeat drummed above him. Something soft and warm cradled his back, gently supporting every curve.
Mmn… warm.
He stirred slightly, arms and legs brushing against the slippery walls. His hair and clothes were soaked, but the liquid didn't smell of dumpster juice, it was more reminiscent of Tenna’s electric morning breath.
Had his partner drooled all over him in the night? Wouldn't be the first time.
“Ant…” He mumbled under his breath, rolling to the side. His nose brushed against the squishy ceiling and down into a thick puddle of liquid. The chamber tensed slightly at the stimulation, every direction pressing gently against Spamton’s body.
Wait.
Was this…
Had he…
Tenna’s heartbeat continued to hum above him. The chamber squeezed him gently, as if to confirm his suspicions.
Tenna had swallowed him! When he was asleep? Why?! That wasn’t like Tenna at all! He always wanted an audience reaction, even if it was a negative one.
Had there been some sort of emergency? Was he trying to hide Spamton from-
Tenna’s stomach rapidly shrank, squeezing painfully tight.
“Ant! ANT!! A-”
The words were cut away with his breath. His entire body trembled, unable to move or breath in the suffocating pressure, then just as quickly as it had attacked, the artificial flesh relented, but the added space was still nowhere near enough to ease his mind. Had someone else eaten him? What was going on? He trashed against the walls, trying to free some extra space.
“WHAT THE [$*!$] YOU [Ciminal]!!!1!!”
There was a voice above him, muffled significantly, but still clearly belonging to Tenna.
“ANT WHAT THE [$!&$]! WHAT’D YOU DO THAT [4]???”
A switch flicked, and suddenly Tenna’s voice was coming in loud and clear.
“Sorry! Sorry! I forgot you wouldn't shrink with me! Are you alright? Did I hurt you?” Tenna’s hands pressed into the rubber, shifting Spamton towards the inner wall. His struggles slowed as he tried to catch his breath.
“IM… FINE… NEVER DO THAT.”
“BOSS YOUR BABY IS TALKING???”
Who the hell was that?
Tenna’s wright shifted forward. “No! Im not p-.... Im not in the family way!”
“ANT IT’S NOT THE [forbidden by the haye code]! YOU CAN SAY [pregnart]!”
“No im… im not…” His volume lowered. “Im not p-... pre… Im not!”
“Then what was that??” the stranger’s voice asked.
“Um… uh… m.”
“HE SWALLOWED A RADIO. [Tv on the Radio].”
“Yah! It’s just a radio Mike! I tripped and it fell in my mouth! Silly me!”
Mike? Spamton pressed his face into Tenna’s stomach. “MIKE?? IT’S MIKE???? [It’s been ever so long]!1!! MIKE!!11!1!”
Tenna pressed him back in with a hiss. “Stop that! You're showing!”
Mike? laughed awkwardly. “Yep it’s me! Mottermouth Mike! The one and only! Who are you… um… radio that Tenna ate?”
“IT’S ME!!! YOUR OLD PAL!! SPAMTON G. SPAMTON!!! [#1 Rated Salesman 1997]!!!!”
“Spamton? You… BOSS YOU ATE THE MAILMAN???”
Spamton got his feet under him and reached for the stomach’s exit. “ANT ANT ANT ANT LET ME OUT LET M[Get me outa here!] I WANNA SEE MIKE!!1!”
“Ow! Alright i’ll- stop that tickles! Give me a moment, Spammy!”
Tenna’s guts tightened arround his partner, pressing him up and up until he landed in Tenna’s hands with a wet splat. Spamton wiped the saliva off his eyes and looked down to…
“YOUR. NOT. MIKE.”
The short, chubby microphone Darkner with a bad combover grinned up at him nervously. “Hey ay ay… It’s me… Mike! I got a new look. Do you like it?”
Spamton jabbed a finger in the stranger’s direction. “[Imposter amongus!]!!11!!!111! [Creeper]!! THAT’S NOT MIKE!! WHO [duh] [H-E-double hockey sticks] ARE YOU??!!!”
“Oh that’s um…” Tenna grinned sheepishly. “That’s Mike’s understudy.”
“UNDERSTUDY???” Mike and Spamton shouted.
Tenna nodded. “Yep! That neurotic little green Pippins with his eyes too far apart volunteered to fill in for Mike while he’s away on holiday! He’s doing such a good job!”
“My eyes arn’t-... Im… I'm not an understudy, I'm the real Mike!”
“See? He never even breaks character!”
Spamton looked down his nose at the understudy before turning back to Tenna. “OK OK SURE SURE [fly me to the moon and]- HEY [Fly me away] OF THIS PLACE! IM [bathed in the goo] AND IT’S [freezing] MY [jingle my bells] OFF!”
“Of course Spammy!” He shoved Spamton back in his mouth (headfirst this time) and swallowed him whole. Then he casually removed his glittering suit and dumped it into Mike’s arms. “Well! That was… something! Make sure that suit is ready for me by Christmas eve, ok Mike?”
“...You got it boss.”
“Goodie! Thanks Mike, you're a real lifesaver!” He picked up his normal coat and headed for the door.
“Wait Boss! WHO’S THE REAL MI-” The word cut off with a slam.
…
“Phew! Was that embarrassing or what?” Tenna said through his teeth as he walked into his apartment. “At least it was backstage… speaking of backstage, how’s my favorite co-star doing?”
Spamton puffed. “[Im your only] CO-STAR [boob tube]!”
“My one and only! Do you need anything Spammy?”
“[Life or bath].”
A bath?” He snickered. “But your already in my special private bath~.”
“YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN!!! [real, genuine] [hot tubs 20% off]!”
Tenna rubbed his belly and did a little twirl. “Oh but… isn't it already nice and warm in there? Premium rubber cushioning, exfoliating and moisturizing, just the temperature you like it~”
“YOU CAN’T EXPHOLIATE OR [ultra moisture] [life in plastic]!! NOW [set me free] AND MAKE MY BATH!! OR [the severed hand] WILL [tortue] YOU-!”
“Torture? H- Ahh! Spamton stop that tickles!”
“TICKLE TORTUE!!!”
Tenna doubled over with laughter. “Stop stop! I'm making your bath! He wheezed. I'm making it!” He stumbled into the bathroom and turned the knob for the hot water. He kneeled on the floor. “Spamton you- HAHAHA you can stop the water’s running! Running!”
Spamton finally relented. “I WANT IT [Some Like It Hot]! [Smokin’ hot!]! [Boob Tube] [backside] HOT!”
Tenna blushed. “Spammy~! I-.. I know what you like! You don’t have to tell me!”
“...[It’s been a long, long time]. I WASN'T SURE IF YOU [memory saved].”
“Of course I remember! I still remember that you like your coffee extra dark, and your pillow fluffed up before bed, that your favorite hair dye is Swan Black …”
He thought he remembered what Tenna liked too. Tenna liked his tea and coffee with heaps of milk and sugar. He only used a certain brand of aerosol for cleaning his screen. He needed an audience for just about everything he did, even if it was something silly or weird like…
“ANT, WHY DID YOU [gobble me up]?”
Tenna tensed. “What do you mean?”
“YOU… [TV Dinner] ME WHILE I WAS [in dreamland]. I THOUGHT YOU WOULD WANT ME [awake]. YOU LIKE [an audience].”
“Oh um…well I do but… I had to go to a suit fitting with Mike, but you were sleeping, and I couldn't leave you alone in case you woke up scared and I couldn't wake you up because you needed your beauty rest, and I couldn't just carry you through town because that modern ‘Hip-Hop’ music those young men play really loud across the street would wake you up, and I couldn't reschedule with Mike because the party is only a few days away so I um… well.”
Spamton didn't immediately respond.
“I know we haven't done… it… or talked about it since back then… so I just assumed you wouldn't mind… I know it was a risk… I shouldn't have-”
“ANT YOUR [rapidly decreasing].”
“Oh! Sorry.” He grew back to his normal height.
Spamton sighed. “IM NOT MAD ANT. [Butt]... WHY DIDN'T YOU JUST [Phoned] THAT [imposter] TO [snatched waist] UP IN THE APARTMENT?”
Tenna rubbed the back of his neck. “Oh… uh… heh… I guess I didn't think of that.”
Spamton snickered. “THAT’S OK ANT. I LIKED YOU [more] FOR YOUR MASIVE [ass] NOT YOUR MASIVE [Head] ANYWAY.”
Tenna covered his face to hide the darkening blush. “Spammy!”