Work Text:
~Good morning, Starlight!~ 8>[ ^D]
morningggg
who taught you how to use emoticons lol
WHO DO YOU THINK [angel]? ƒ8^D
ok yeah that tracks
Are you ready for our ☆Breakfast Date☆, my dear? ♥
I’M GONNA SHOVE [flapjacks] DOWN MY [pie hole].
guys im sorry i gotta take a rain check on that
Y?
Is everything okay??
Im dyiiiiing. gonna stay in bed
sorry guys :(
…
You watched as the ‘currently typing’ ellipses bobbed in place for a few seconds, then half a minute, and then you decided to put your phone on the nightstand, flicking the silence switch to off.
The inside of your nose had an uncomfortably warm feeling to it. You sniffed, but there was practically no flow of air, leaving a sad sounding snort and increased pressure behind your eyes and forehead. You rubbed your temples to try and ease the pain, but nothing came of it except the wish that you hadn’t tried it in the first place. The back of your throat felt like it was coated in a paperthin but unignorable coat of slime and when you swallowed, it went down like sandpaper.
You considered going back to sleep, but that was making the bold assumption that your ailing body would be on board with your plan, so instead you decided to wait and text back either of your boyfriends when they finished their thoughts. You were surprised Spamton didn’t respond immediately with some wisecrack that he’d get the shovel or a half-joking inquiry if he was in your will and how much he’d get out of it; usually he was quick as a whip with that sort of banter.
After another attempt to breathe in through your nose, you opted to mouth breathe, fish-style. Your throat would choose a rougher sandpaper grit when you swallowed, but that was a trade-off you begrudgingly took.
And if you were going to be a mouth breather, you may as well get some fresh air. You negotiated with your legs for a few minutes before they complied and swung over the side of your bed. Shifting your weight, you slid off, taking a moment to get your bearings as your surroundings swayed. When your vision became still, you hoped that was a one time thing. Otherwise, heading downstairs to the kitchen would be a… challenge.
Or you could go without water and food for the day. No big deal.
You shuffled over to your window, sliding the latch open, and slowly pulled the sliding window all the way open. Normally it wouldn’t take as long, but your body was on strike, and it was a large window. It nearly spanned your entire bedroom wall. You could easily swing your legs over and sit comfortably on the edge if you so desired, but your sick addled brain didn’t seem to have a firm control of your body’s balance at the moment, so you politely yet firmly showed the desire to the door.
After making the journey back to your bed, you checked your phone. The ellipses were gone, but there weren’t any new messages.
u guys good? lol
No response.
Huh. Maybe they left to get breakfast anyway? You didn’t mind if that were the case, as you three weren’t always doing the same things together all the time. Now that was a long conversation at the beginning of your relationship, assuring each other that yes, you three loved each other very much and YES, it was okay if one of you got a little more attention some days. Because it would even out.
If they wanted some one on one time, that was just fine. You didn’t want to get either of them sick, anyway. What bothered you was the radio silence. You all agreed that communication was important (especially when you played the mediator for your boyfriends’ reconciliation), so what gives?
You shook your head, mentally reprimanding yourself. They didn’t need to be glued to their phones answering you instantly, and neither did you. Your sick brain was just being impatient. And, frankly, bored. All of your fun stuff was downstairs, and you didn’t have the strength to retrieve any of it after your perilous journey to and from the window.
You rolled onto your side, facing your window. At least the view outside was nice. A soft breeze rustled the leaves of the red maple tree in your front yard. It gently pushed at your curtains before tossing a few stray strands of your hair. Though you still couldn’t inhale it through your nose, the breeze left a cool sensation on your overheated (and kind of slick, ew) skin. Thank God for autumn. Summer could take a hike for all you cared.
You sighed softly and closed your eyes, smiling calmly in spite of all the hell your body was putting you through. You directed your attention away from your stuffy self and focused on your surroundings. A cool breeze, the rustling of leaves, the distant thumps, the birdsong…it was a perfect way to spend your sick day.
Wait.
Blinking your eyes open, you sat up in bed, leaning against the headboard, and stared out the window. You tried to make your mouth-breathing as quiet as possible as you listened.
Leaves rustling, birdsong, a distant cacophony of cars honking, and…
Thumping. There was a steady rhythm to the dull sound, and it seemed like it was far away. That, or your ears weren’t working right either.
Your first suspicion was construction. After the Darkners were able to move to the Light World, you heard talk of providing extra housing in Home Town for the new arrivals. But for the life of you, you couldn’t place the sound you were hearing. It wasn’t a jackhammer; this sound was a bit too slow. What else thumped? A hammer? No, not loud enough.
...A really big hammer?
You grunted, reaching over to stick a few more pillows between you and the headrest. Whatever the noise was, you hoped it stopped soon. If you got a headache, you would march to the mayor’s office, look her in those terrifying ice-cold eyes with her mounted office katana in your peripheral, AND-
Bitch about it in the group chat instead. Yeah, that’ll show her.
Still, you wanted that noise gone, but it only seemed to get louder the longer you waited, which…alarmingly, was probably only a few seconds since you first heard it. Louder…and closer…
Hold on. You didn’t notice it before, but you sure did now. You could feel the thumping in your whole body. Your room started to feel it too as your bookshelf shuddered and curtains swayed. One of your pillows, precariously balanced on the edge of your bed, met its untimely fate as it fell to the floor.
What was going on?!
“[Cool your jets], CRT! THEY’RE NOT-“ You heard a voice increasing sharply in volume as it rapidly neared your window.
A few things happened before your brain had a chance to connect the dots. You heard a loud yell and the thumping sound came to a sudden stop. You watched as a huge gloved hand gripped the frame of your window, and you startled as the head of your huge TV boyfriend just barely squeezed through, his mouth twisted in a horrified expression.
“YOU’RE 
???”
You stared, trying to get your brain to help you out here. Finally you managed to connect the brain bone to the larynx bone, croaking out a “Tenna-“
“Oh… oh no. 
, you ARE!”
“I’m not-“
An oversized finger poked the side of your face. “Just LOOK at you! And you’re 
! We need to get you to the hospital, STAT!”
You readjusted your position to sit cross legged on your bed, then pushed the back of your hand against his finger to get a better look at him. Tenna let it happen, revealing a frown teetering on the fence between worried and panicked. His other fingers started to curl around you, his palm cushioning your side. You instinctively leaned into it, humming contently as you snuggled into the plush material of his glove.
Then his thumb pressed against your chest and it dawned on you that he might be serious about taking you to the hospital.
“Ten-“ You cleared your throat in an attempt to make your voice sound less gravely, but it sent you into a small coughing fit instead. His hand started to shift position. You felt his fingers readjusting around you, gently wriggling under your legs.
Oh. Oh he was serious.
But before you could try to stop your boyfriend from pulling you out of your bedroom window, you spotted a certain salesman dashing down his arm, his own arms lazily ragdolling behind him. Spamton springboarded off Tenna’s wrist, landing facedown on your bed with a muffled oof, and pushed himself up so he could wriggle himself between you and the TV host’s thumb.
“THEY’RE NOT [press F to pay respects], T3NNA.”
“Yeah, I’m not!” You reassured him as loudly as you could which, admittedly, wasn’t much better than your normal speaking volume. “It’s just a cold.”
“Of COURSE they-“ Tenna paused, head slightly turned in your direction. “A cold?”
You would snort, but your nose refused to cooperate. “Yeah. You know what that looks like, right? Did the Dreemur kids never spend their sick days watching you?”
“Well…” Tenna looked away. His fingers uncurled around you and Spamton as his arm retreated. He backed his head out, antennae bending and brushing against the top of the window frame and sproinging back when he was fully out the window. Tenna continued to bend at the waist so his face could be level with your window. He tapped his fingers together. “Yes, they did! But this is different.”
“How.” You stared blankly at him.
“Well!” He paused. You and Spamton shared a look before Tenna pointed at you again, finger in your face, as his lips formed an O shape. “
said you were !”
You threw up your arms. “I was being dramatic!”
“THAT’S WH4T I [typed].” Spamton poked at Tenna’s finger. “I.” Poke. “TOLD” Poke. “U.”
Once again, Tenna looked away. He rested both hands on the bottom of the window frame, fingers gently drumming against the inner wall below. You watched as his antennas drooped and colored bars lit up just under where his eyes would be, if he had any. “Ahah- uh. What a…blunder, folks! Mike, cut that from the recording.”
Cute. You sighed softly, holding out your hand in invitation. “C’mere.”
Tenna shrank down as he pulled himself through your window, landing a lot more gracefully than Spamton as he straightened up. He still towered over you both at what you guesstimated was ten feet, but at least he fit- mostly fit- in the room. Slowly, he went down on his knees, shuffling over to your bedside and reaching to hold your hand. You huffed in amusement, intertwining your fingers and giving his hand a squeeze. He returned the gesture gingerly.
“There we go.” You murmured. Not wanting to leave your other better third hanging, you took a hold of Spamton’s hand, rubbing small circles with your thumb. He leaned his whole weight against your arm and nuzzled his head into your shoulder like a cat.
“See? Nothing to worry about. I’m just sick.”
“I... guess I may have overreacted. A little.” Tenna chuckled sheepishly.
Spamton guffawed. “A [XS size]?! YOU SHOULD’VE [click now to watch] HIM. HE WAS [stress test] OUT. I TRI3D TO [call now] HIM TO CALM [downsizing], BUT N0O[oh]000O0o.”
Tenna sputtered as he tried and failed to defend himself. Spamton, as per his default settings, sported a shit-eating grin. You gave Tenna’s hand another squeeze, then pulled it closer to give his knuckles a kiss. Immediately his screen began to glow a soft pink.
“Well, thanks for trying to calm him down.” You turned your attention to Spamton, smiling warmly. “You handled it like a champ, Big Shot.”
“YEP. I WAS… [frosty]! AS A [cucumber salad].” Spamton said. Slowly. His confident smile began to waver ever so slightly, harkening back to last game night when you and Tenna both stacked a +4 card in MUNO (monster UNO) against his hand.
You leaned in to stare at him. He avoided eye contact.
You leaned in even further, your faces inches apart. “What’d you do?” You mock whispered. Immediately straightening up, you pointed your gaze at Tenna. “What’d he do?”
Tenna hummed innocently, cupping his face with his free hand. “Oh, I don’t know, Starlight. Spamton would surely be the level headed one in this whole situation. And he certainly wouldn’t have gone overboard when we stopped by Sans’ store…”
“YOU [snitches get]!” Spamton snapped, then huffed, then finally sighed in resignation. “[Alright alright alright]. I MAY HAVE [yoink] A FEW [goods] FOR U.”
“I don’t see a problem with that. It’s sweet, even.” You ruffled his hair.
He was silent.
Tenna was silent.
You were silent for about two seconds.
“How many things did you get.” You deadpanned..
Spamton remained silent, but not inactive. He let go of your hand to pry his jaws open, jamming just about his entire arm inside, and rummaged around in there. He removed a plastic bag with the skeleton’s face on it, setting it on the bed.
Curiosity took the reins of your hands as you opened it up. Inside the bag were five bottles of day cold medicine and five bottles of nighttime cold medicine. Okay, yeah. You had to admit that was a little excessive, but it warmed your heart that your boyfriend would go out of his way to buy you the medicine and hey, he was still reaching down there.
To your surprise, then amusement, then concern, Spamton pulled bags out of his mouth like a hanky out of a clown’s pocket. Just when you thought he was done, another bag would be pulled from the bottomless pit that was Spamton’s inventory. By the time he finished, you couldn’t see your comforter. There were bags in your lap. There were bags on Tenna’s head. Your pillows were dethroned and replaced by the horrible plastic monarchs with the mark of the Sans upon their bodies.
You all contemplated your shared situation.
Pressing your palms together, you brought your hands to your face. “So...how much did this cost?”
You were well aware that dark dollars still turned to trash wrappers in the Light World and points turned into a whole lotta nothing. That left you to occasionally lend your money to your boyfriends in exchange for covering some of your expenses in the Dark World. Usually, they didn’t run out of money that quickly unless Spamton managed to snag the funds from Tenna, and looking at the bags and bags of stuff didn’t leave you too confident.
“I MADE SOME [great deals] WITH [spooky scary ].” Spamton puffed out his chest. “I BAGGED A [buy one] GET [100] FREE.”
“How in the hell-“
“I wanted to see how many bags he could shove in his mouth.” You heard a monotone voice from outside. You sat up, gripping onto Tenna’s suit to pull yourself up and get a better view out the window. From across the street, you saw the convenience store owner staring up at you, hands in his pockets.
“Sans.” You greeted.
“Hey.” He tilted his head up in response.
“Thanks.”
“Sure thing.”
He was still standing there.
“Sans?”
“Yeah.”
“Get outta here.”
“Okay.”
The skeleton exited screen left, leaving you three in the bedroom with the bags.
You started to open one to see what could go where, but you were stopped as a large gloved hand and a small segmented hand grabbed yours. Tenna pushed the bags behind you aside, then both he and Spamton gently pushed on your chest until you were laying on your back.
“We can handle this, Starlight. You need to rest.” He murmured softly.
“YEAH, [pookie]. WE’LL [manage inventory].” Spamton gave your hand a squeeze before releasing it and starting to gather up the bags in his arms. You wondered why he didn’t just put them back in his inventory first, but Spamton was never one for thinking things all the way through. He was a doer, and what he decided to do was adorn the entirety of his arms with bags and flop off of the bed. You heard a soft ow and multiple items rolling across the floor.
Tenna easily scooped up the remaining bags and Spamton in his arms. He beamed at you as he left your room, and you listened as his footsteps grew softer as he descended to the first floor.
Then you heard softer footsteps rapidly ascend and scuttle back to your room. You peered at Spamton’s head of dark hair, then the strained expression on his face as he clambered onto your bed. He took a breather, then strutted right up to you and laid on his side, one elbow propping him up, his head resting in his hand as he gazed at you with half-lidded eyes behind his duo toned glasses.
“So, [babycakes]-”
“Try again.”
“[High Fructose Corn Syrup].”
You let that one stew, staring silently at Spamton.
“Ang3l-“ He perked up when he saw your approving smile, then held out a hand to you. “I HAVE A [limited time offer] FOR U.”
“Oh yeah?” You raised a brow, lips twitching in a smirk. “What are you offering?”
The salesman stood up, gesticulating to himself. “IN EXCHANGE FOR S0ME [quality time] WITH YOUR [pal], YOU NEED TO [glug glug]. WE HAVE [wawa] or [pump up the juice!].” He thumbed to the door. “AND YOU [need it now] SOMETHING TO [chew on this].”
“I’ll take some juice.” You sniffed, reaching over to give your boyfriend a weak handshake. “But I don’t think I can eat much, Spam. Maybe something simple like rice? A handful of crackers?”
He nodded, turned on his heel to face the door, and yelled down the hallway, “[Tennis]! THEY WANT [vitamin C] AND SOME [cracker jacks].”
“Okay!” You heard Tenna yell from downstairs. There was a pause. “I don’t think we have that kind of popcorn! Just butter styled!”
“NO! [Cracker Jacks]!”
“That’s what I- do you mean crackers?”
“[YE].”
“Okay!”
Spamton gave you a double thumbs up. You chuckled softly, but that only enabled your lungs to start up a second round of coughing fits. Once they subsided, you sank further into your pillows, groaning softly. You felt a weight against your side and glanced over at Spamton, who was about to hug your arm like a koala. Lifting your arm, you pulled him against your side, curling your arm around him.
“I’m gonna get you sick.” You mumbled.
“I’M A [.exe]. WE GET [check for viruses], NOT [cold showers]. BESIDES, A [deals] A [deal].”
“If you say so.” You shrugged, hugging him a bit tighter. Spamton wrapped his arms around your middle with a solid, but comfortable grip. He felt like one of those weighted plushies. You would never tell him this, of course. Spamton would deny and deny you, claiming that he was far from ‘cute’ or ‘[marketable]’. You would beg to differ, and you got a feeling Tenna would too, but Spamton had his pride.
“Hey.”
“HM?”
“Thanks for getting all that stuff. You didn’t have to.” You rubbed his back between the shoulders.
Spamton scoffed. “OF [online courses] I DIDN’T. BUT YOU CAN’T PASS UP ON A [great deal] LIKE THAT.”
By this point in your relationship you recognized this as Spamton’s way of showing affection. Despite how much he loved to run his mouth, your boyfriend was still new to opening himself up to either of you. You and Tenna were slowly assisting him in cracking apart his core belief that everything he did had to be transactional.
“AND I…”
You waited patiently.
“WANTED. TO.”
You broke out in a grin. “Aw, Spam-“
“PLUS I [yoink!] SOME OF THAT [merch] WHILE TENS DISTRACTED [stand up comic].”
Your face went through a journey as you processed this information. “Okay. First off, it was very sweet of you to think of me.” Spamton blushed in response. “But please don’t get us banned from the only grocery store in town.”
“DON’T [worry-free], ANG3L. I WON’T GET [permabanned] AS LONG AS I DON’T GET [caught fishing].” He nodded a bunch, waving a hand dismissively.
You made a mental note to visit the grocery store and pay Sans back. There’s no way he didn’t notice.
“Just…try, please? We have the money; you don’t need to steal.” You poked his nose. “And don’t rope Tenna into it!”
“I [did nawt. Oh hi ].”
You pursed your lips. “You said he distracted him.”
“YEAH, WITH HIS [blubbering] ABOUT YOUR [deleting system 32]. IT WAS ALL A [coinkidink]. I DIDN’T EVEN NEED TO [ask your parents permission].” He cackled.
Your lips became a thin line. “Spamton G. Spamton.” His grin faltered upon getting full-named. You didn’t say anything. You simply waited.
“…OK, FINE! STOP LOOKING AT ME [with those big ol’] LIKE THAT.”
“Love you, Spaaaam.” You sang, nuzzling your face into his hair. Spamton grunted in response, but made no move to stop you. Once you had your fill of annoying your boyfriend with affection, you laid your head back on your pillow, letting out a content sigh as you stared at the ceiling.
Right on cue, Tenna reemerged, ducking under the door frame with a cup and bowl in hand. He set the bowl of saltines on the nightstand then dipped his hand beneath your back, carefully propping you up. Tenna offered the glass of juice which you took in your free hand, still hugging Spamton to your side with the other.
It didn’t really have a taste, as expected, but there was a hint of sour indicating it was indeed a citrussy drink. You dunked back half of it, stopping to nibble on a few crackers when Tenna set the bowl in your lap in exchange for the glass. As you traded off between drink and food, he rubbed circles in your back with his thumb. You hummed, chest heaving out a long sigh as you let the tension escape you. You finished with an empty cup and a few remaining crackers in the bowl. You tossed one up for Spamton to catch in his mouth and reached up to Tenna, who gingerly grabbed one with his teeth. He lowered you back onto the bed, setting the cup and bowl on the nightstand.
“Sorry you’ve gotta deal with this.” You grinned, but you did feel a little bad about messing up your breakfast plans with them.
“[DEAL] WITH?” Spamton tch’d through his teeth, looking up at you. “[Sweet stuff], YOU AREN’T A [lag] ON US.”
“You’d do the same for us!” Tenna added, reaching over to cup the side of your head- and neck- in his large hand. “Let us take care of you today, Starshine.”
“Even if I made you freak out?” You wryly counter.
“I...should have asked you to give the audience a bit more exposition.” He grinned sheepishly, then turned his attention to Spamton, who was giving him the stink-eye. “And-! And, I should have listened to you, Big Shot. I’m sorry. To the both of you.” His antennas drooped a bit as he shrank a few inches.
Said Big Shot’s gaze softened a tad. “[Yeah, yeah]. I [press C to Confirm] YOUR [apology video], TENS.”
“Yeah, it’s all good.” You pressed your head into Tenna’s hand and gave Spamton a light squeeze. Then you patted the bed. “Now get over here already. We miss our TV.”
“O-oh! Right, okay!” Tenna beamed, moving around to the other side of the bed. You felt the mattress dip behind you as he settled in. You released Spamton so he could scramble over you, and you rolled onto your side to face him and Tenna. Hooking an arm around him, you pulled the puppets body against your own. His arms wrapped around yours firmly as he let out a satisfied hum.
Two large hands scooped up and pressed you both against Tenna’s broad chest. He tucked his knees in as he tried to fit his whole body on the bed, curling protectively around you and Spamton in the process.
“I, haha, know you said it was all good, but…” Tenna chuckled nervously.
You knew where this was going, and were quick to reassure him before he overthought it. “And I meant it.”
“DON’T MAKE US SAY IT [or double your], [cathode].” Spamton’s muffled voice called out, his face firmly planted into Tenna’s chest.
You pressed your hand against his suit, feeling the soft red material against your palm. “There’s nothing to worry about. I’m alright.” Deciding to take a bolder stance, you looked up at him with a gentle smile. “Thank you for making time for me. I love my tv…”
A soft whine escaped Tenna as his screen turned a hot pink. He curled up further as he grew a few more feet up to his default size, surrounding you and Spamton completely with himself. The bed was protesting but you two sure weren’t. You reached an arm back to pull his hands closer while Spamton wriggled into a comfier position between you two.
“WOW, folks. What a charmer!” Tenna said with a wobbly smile as hugged the both of you ever so closer to his chest.
“[Dam] STR8.” Muffled Spamton.
You and Tenna shared an amused smile. You three laid there for a while in silence. While you busied yourself with touching his suit, Tenna occasionally tapped his fingers against your back. Spamton was content to fake snore loudly into his chest.
But your boyfriend never did last long doing nothing. Still, this had to be a new record. “Did you two want to watch anything...?” Tenna asked ten(na)tatively, breaking the silence.
“I’d love to, big guy.” You gave his chest a loving pat, then looked at Spamton. “One thing, though. Spam, are you sure I can’t get you sick?”
“I’m [100% guaranteed].”
“Good.” You breathed, then leaned in to press a kiss against his teeth, tilting your head just right to avoid a DIY lobotomy via puppet nose. An equally startled and delighted noise escaped Spamton and he quickly reciprocated, pressing back firmly, one hand unlatching from your arm to cup your cheek. You ran a hand through his thick hair repeatedly, soothed by the feeling of soft strands passing between your fingers.
When you separated, you turned to face Tenna and ask him if he wanted a kiss, but you’re denied a chance as his lips locked onto yours, and with his size, most of your chin too. You laughed against his lips, fingers gripping the side of his head’s casing, and eagerly returned the kiss. You tried your damndest to suppress a cough when one of his fangs lightly pressed into your lower lip, causing you to gasp a little in reflex. Your chest contracted tightly as you attempted to control your lungs and you pressed your palm against his face, giving you a moment to sit up and turn away from the two as your lungs protested.
“Sorry.” You croaked between coughs. “Gimme a sec.”
“Take your time, dear.” You heard behind you, and then a “C’mere, Spammy!”
“EN GARDE, [mother] [$#!&]ER.” Came the response, followed by the sounds of exaggerated kissing noises, puppet-branded cackling, and- something that no longer surprised you- nose jousting.
These fucking goobers, you mused, then laid on your back. It wasn’t for long as Tenna scooped you back up, alternating between smooching you and the salesman. You both laughed, playfully trying to stop him, but Tenna was relentless as he intended to kiss you both as long as he wanted. But Spamton had a few tricks up his sleeve, or one trick in the form of a swarm of minitons that distracted Tenna long enough for you both to cling to him and get your revenge as you and Spamton simultaneously peppered his face with lip and teeth kisses.
You were the first to tire out as your body reminded you that yes, you were still sick. Spamton followed suit, dismissing his minitons and returning to his role as your little spoon, and Tenna to you both as the extra large spoon. After some deliberation, Tenna tuned into the shopping channel, a good middle ground for your need to fall asleep to some dry descriptions of an old-ass vase, Spamton’s need to debate the vendor about the price in a whisper-yell, and Tenna’s need to entertain you both the best way he knew how.
Slowly, as the show droned on and Spamton cuddled up against you while Tenna rubbed circles into your back, your eyelids began to grow heavy. You shut your eyes, letting the sounds of Spamton’s one sided argument with TV programs and the whirring fans in Tenna’s body mix together in a delightful kind of white noise that you were all too familiar with.
Even if you would be sick that day and the days following, you knew you would never have to bear the burden alone.