Chapter Text
The rush of cars, honking and whizzing by, people chatting and pushing past each other on the busy sidewalk. You clutch your groceries close, always hating the crowds but the Cyber City had just been where you had fallen down.
You were a lightner, a human at that, and any life you had before you fell into the dark world one dreary evening had surely moved on past you.
It was a lonely existence, even if you would never admit it to anyone else.
Ugh, you really needed to get out of this crowd.
You sigh, mumbling out apologies as you push your way towards the side, closer to the buildings as you duck down into an alleyway. You should be able to cut through past these two buildings and only be a block away from your apartment, easy.
The only worry was you usually don't take this route at night.
It wasn't like you couldn't hold your own in a fight! You just.. really don't like fighting. Dealing with more violent darkners made your skin crawl and it wouldn't be the first time you had offered them something from your groceries or your bag just to get them to leave you alone.
The moment you pass a nearby dumpster, you hear it.
BANG!
[[$@%#!!!]]
You pause, was someone in that dumpster…? There was a box on top of one of the lids. Slowly you approach, setting down your bag of groceries and picking up the heavy box to set it down beside the dumpster. Whatever followed the bang had sounded like a TV censorship noise, and when you finally lift the lid to look inside you see someone standing in an almost empty dumpster. Its head a mess of black hair and.. wearing a suit? A white hand is rubbing its head, freezing when you finally speak up.
"Are.. are you alright?"
It turns around and you jump, body going cold when you make eye contact with a puppet . Uncanny grin spread across its stark white face, bi colored specs, and it's letting out a laugh that sounds glitched and warped.
"I MUSTA [hit me with your best shot] MY HEAD PRETTY HARD BECAUSE I'M LOOKIN' AT AN [angel]!"
Oh no.
This was a bad idea.
You back up, watching as this puppet crawls out of the dumpster and poses with its arm outstretched towards you.
"HEY THERE, [[sweetcheeks!]] THE NAME'S SPAMTON G. SPAMTON!"
You nervously start to bring your hand up and he meets you halfway, grasping both ball jointed hands on yours and shaking with such a vigor you worry your arm is going to get ripped off.
"NO NEED TO BE SO [afraid? You should be] [baby]!" He finally lets go, hands on his hips. How could you not be?? You just found a five foot something tall puppet and- "YOU LOOK LIKE A [slime] OF DISCERNING TASTE! COME, COME, HAVE I GOT A DEAL FOR YOU!"
He starts to walk back to that dumpster, scrambling small legs against the side before he falls in with a thud. The puppet- right, he said his name was Spamton- pops back up in an instant, showing off what is clearly someone's old wallet being held together with rubber bands. You can't tell if he took it out of the garbage or stole it, and you genuinely don't know what's worse.
"CHECK THIS OUT! A PERFECTLY GOOD-"
You quickly hold your hands up, embarrassment flushing your cheeks and your groceries rustling in your bag.
"H-hold on now! I'm really not that interested, sorry!"
He pauses, eyes seemingly locked on your chest, and at first you start to blush thinking he's being a creep when you realize your soul had started to come out in your heightened emotions. You quickly slap your hand on your chest to force it back in. You're not fighting this guy! He's just some weird salesman!
"Oh my God I am so sorry, I just-"
"YOU'RE A… LIGHT nER<.."
"Yea, like I said I'm so sorry! I'm not looking for a fight and-"
"I CAN MAKE YOU AN EVEN BETTER DEAL! YOU WANNA BE A [[Big Shot]] DONT YA?" He hops up on the lid, leaving the open space behind him as he talks. "I DO TOO! WE COULD WORK [[together]] AND MAKE ALL THOSE [@#$%] PAY!"
You're stood at the edge of the lid, backing up so he doesn't poke you with his nose in his fervor.
"Look, Spamton, right? I really don't want to do anything brash." Whether that was against him or against whatever plan he clearly had premeditated, even you're not sure.
"NONSENSE! I KNOW A [braniac] WHEN I SEE ONE!" You lift your hand again to shoo him and he takes the opportunity to grab it. There's a desperation to his eyes, even you can see that past his glasses, his teeth are chattering and brow is turned upwards. "I JUST.. NEED YOU TO SHOW ME.."
He leans forward and you lean back, blush across your features as the smell of ash and cheap cologne hit your senses with how close he's gotten.
"Your [[heart-shaped object.]]"
WHAM!!
Spamton finds himself reeling as he's knocked backwards into the dumpster, an embroidered tote bag of groceries of various fruits, a fancy looking bottle of water, and a few pre prepared meals landing on top of him before spilling everywhere.
When he finally rights himself and pokes his head out of the dumpster, you're already running down the alley and gone.
He huffs, sitting back down to crack open that bottle of water and taking a big swig.
So much for his big plan…
That's why it shocks him when he suddenly hears someone knocking on the side of the dumpster the next morning, and he opens it to find you standing there.
"LIGHTNER..?"
"Please… its.." you tell him your name, and he repeats it a little like he's getting used to the taste of it in his mouth.
"WELL, [toots]!" So much for your name. "DIDYA THINK ON OUR DEAL? I KNEW YA COULDN'T STAY AWAY FROM-"
He freezes when you put a hand to his mouth, not hard but just the pads of your fingers against his porcelain teeth.
"Breathe, Mr Spamton." he actually lets out a plume of steam at the honorific. "I just want my bag back. The one i… uh… threw at you. Sorry about that by the way."
He grins at that, a smirk that only people in positions of actual power should be using.
"NAME YOUR PRICE THEN, [[toots!]]"
You pull your hand back, brows furrowing. He can't be serious, trying to sell your own bag back to you.
"You're kidding me."
"DO I LOOK LIKE I'M KIDDING? IT'S A [dog eat dog] WORLD OUT HERE. IT'S A [limited time offer]! THIS [brand new puppy] IS SCHEDULED FOR CLEAN UP TODAY AND I GOTTA GET MOVING."
You groan, pinching the bridge of your nose.
"Hows.." you motion your hands as you try to think, already exhausted after so little time with this salesman. "Look, if I give you 10 bucks can I please get that bag back?" You hate that you sound desperate, he could jack up the price just because he knows you want the bag back. "I'm sure you looked in it, you can keep the food that was in there too, I-I just need that bag itself back."
Spamton grins, a glint in those glasses.
"10 [kromer]??? NOW THAT'S A DEAL!"
He pops down into the bin and comes back up with that tote bag. You find yourself yanking it out of his hands and clearly looking relieved, it was a little dirty but free of any damage. So focused on it, you almost forgot this was a deal until Spamton's clearing his throat.
"R-right, sorry." You fish out a 10 dark dollar bill, handing it to Spamton. "You can keep the food, that's fine, I just.." a laugh escapes you before you can stop it. "This was all I managed to hold on to when I got to the city.. all that's left of my home. Kinda cheesy, i know but-"
Spamton's shoving the money back towards you.
"Wh-"
"JUST TAKE IT BACK." Not a question but a demand. "THAT [sob story] BETTER NOT BE [phony baloney], I DON'T NEED [crocodile tears] ALL OVER THE PLACE."
Your expression softens. Little thief had a heart in there somewhere, even if he wouldn't admit it. He's not even looking at you but his brows are furrowed.
"Keep it, Mr Spamton."
Another plume of steam as he pockets it.
"J-JUST DON'T MAKE IT A [kick these bad habits in 5 easy steps!], [toots.]"
He's blushing, completely caught off guard by something you must have said. Then something hits you, something Spamton said earlier that didn't fully register until just now.
"You're not going to be here..?"
He blinks, looking up at you.
"I GOT WHAT I NEEDED OUTTA HERE!" he's beaming. "GOTTA GATHER MY THINGS AND HIT THE [dusty trail]! WHAT, GONNA [don't miss this offer] ME?" That bright smile had turned into a devious smirk, winking at you.
Now it's your turn to blush, rubbing the back of your neck.
"Don't be so full of yourself." You wave a hand. "I just need to make sure I'm not going down here anymore."
"OH YOU WOUND ME, [[Dollface!]] HAHAEHEHAHA!!" he dramatically flops back into the bin, "AND I WAS JUST ABOUT TO OFFER YOU A CARD TO MY [homemade storefront!]"
You find yourself leaning against the bin, arm on the ledge and looking inside. It's relatively empty besides some old ripped up cardboard and empty food containers, beside him is a box with assorted knick knacks, a few miscellaneous fabrics, and that bottle of water you bought yesterday half drank. You bite your lip.
"...Storefront?"
He perks up.
"YESSIREE! HERE!" he fumbles with his coat, handing you a well worn and slightly torn business card from his pocket. There's a drawing of him giving a thumbs up with angel wings.
SPAMTON G SPAMTON
BUSINESS EXTRADORDINARE
Located in scenic trash zone!
come alone.
"YOU'LL [get to know you] IT WHEN YOU SEE IT!"
You thumb the corner of the card. A thought had hit you, making you blush. Why did you want to try and spend more time with this guy? He was just some guy you met mid dumpster dive who somehow tricked you out of 10 bucks (that you offered that amount no less) but somehow… you wanted to learn more about him. Figure out his deal, so to speak.
"Say, Mr Spamton?"
"YEA, [[dollface?]]"
"If.. if you want…" you dismissively wave a hand, trying to act casual about your wording. "I can help you carry that box back to your store..? It's my day off, I have no problem lending out a little.. uh.. free labor…?"
Spamton pauses, eyes narrowed behind his glasses and waiting for the punchline. When he slowly learns there isn't one he turns, picking up the box and handing it to you. It has more heft than you expected but you keep a good grip on it, watching as the shorter salesman double checks everything before hopping out of the bin himself.
"IF YOU WANTED TO BE MY [[help wanted]] YA COULD HAVE JUST ASKED!" He laughs, patting your lower back before he starts walking. A rush of heat shoots up your back, face flushing. You knew that was more because of his height than anything else but man if that didn't make your head rush.
"L-lead the way then."
You walk with him, surprised as he takes you through back roads and alleyways you didn't even realise were in this city, even if it was relatively close to your apartment. The whole time Spamton's chatting your ear off despite being absolute nonsense about a deal he's running and how he knew this city like the back of his hand. You keep swiping glances at him, confused on what he actually was. The talk of business and deals and all of those advertisement cut ins made him seem like an odd type of Addison but he was so… little, to put it nicely. Addisons also seemed like they were made of pure light, but this whole time Spamton has had his arm around your waist, physically guiding you, and sure he was warm, but he definitely felt solid.
You're praying whatever this heat in your gut is, it will go away soon.
When you make it to the trash zone, Spamton's shop isn't even on the outskirts, it's further in, and as you're guided through the dump you're watching your path. Sure, Spamton was friendly now, but god forbid you say something wrong or anger him, you don't know what he'd do, even more worrying is the fact you know that he's well aware you're a lightner and that he wants your soul for something.
Were you really that lonely, doing all this just to make a friend?
"HERE WE ARE!" Spamton finally chimes, motioning to a run down brick shack in the back of the Trash Zone. He lets go of you as you mentally curse at the loss of warmth at your back, but he doesn't seem to notice as he looks for his keys to unlock the front door. There's a broken down sign of what you assume is his logo, and he fumbles with his blazer for a moment before he curses.
"Is something the matter?"
"NOT AT ALL!" he waves a hand. "HERE, GOTTA USE THE [super top secret] ENTRANCE! YOU'RE [lucky 100th customer!] FOR EVEN BEING TOLD ABOUT THIS!"
You watch in curiosity as he looks around before heading to what looks like a broken down red car, its trunk and back seat being almost swallowed by the garbage, pulling the back seat door open and the seat itself down to reveal a tunnel. Oh this feels like a death trap, or some kidnapping scheme, but you're too far in it now. Your hands are full and you're praying the panic that just hit you doesn't make your soul peek out.
"I KNOW THAT [top ten summer looks], NO NE3D TO BE AFRAID!" He gives you a thumbs up. "THINK OF IT LIKE A [secret key!] I'D KEEP A ROCK IF IT WOULDNT GET LOST TOO!" You watch as he climbs in, legs kicking for a moment to right himself before he's climbed into the darkness. You hear his voice come through though. "LEAVE THE BOX AT THE DOOR, [[toots!]] I'LL GRAB IT ONCE WERE IN!"
You take a deep breath.
You were really doing this.
Setting down the box by the door, you stiffen your resolve, climbing into the back seat and shutting the door behind you, noticing that darkness actually was the open trunk behind the seats. Carefully you climb through, watching your head as you clamber out of the trunk and back on solid ground, seeing you were basically in a walled off area, another door was there but Spamton already had it open and was waiting for you.
The way he was beaming at you sent a fire in your chest.
When was the last time he had a willing person like this?
You follow him inside, and that arm is right back around your waist. You want to lean into it so badly, not even realising you actually do so, he's just so warm and you haven't been touched like this since you got to the city, maybe you could be a little selfish and just-
"WELCOME TO MY [fine establishment!]" He gives your side a squeeze before letting go, and you deflate a little as you watch him stand in the middle of this run down little shack with such a prideful look, motioning to the space. It's small, the whole place smelling faintly of smoke, with a desk and chair front and center, a wall painted like the light world sky, shelves full of battered knick knacks and old clothing, a pristine black telephone, and a couple boxes were even set up like a bed; complete with a pillow and blanket.
You'd probably break it if you laid on it..
Not… not that you'd have any reason to be in his bed, of course.
This was strictly business with a potential friend, nothing more.
"HOW COULD I [don't forget me!]" He heads back to the actual front door, opening it with ease and bending over to pick up that box from the dump.
You practically have to look anywhere but at him when he's bent down like that.
Really?? Just a little touch and you're like this??
He doesn't even seem to notice you had been staring as he walks by, plopping the box onto his desk.
"PLEASE! TAKE A LOOK AROUND, [toots!]" He's beaming, sitting at his desk before leaning forward and putting all of his focus on you. His stare is strong, peeking at you through his glasses as he winks. "SO! TELL ME, [dollface]," as he speaks he's taken a cigar from under his desk, using magic to light it before he takes a puff, blowing it up towards the ceiling. "WHAT I CAN I DO FOR YOU TODAY."
That question felt more like a demand, and you know by now Spamton isn't a man who just hands things out for free. You find a seat across the desk, scooting it close to get comfortable and lean against the well worn wood of his desk.
"You uh.. wanna tell me about yourself?"
Spamton pauses, almost like he wasn't expecting that kind of request.
"About me…?"
He shakes his head.
"OF COURSE YOU'D WANNA [getting to know you] ABOUT ME! I'M EVERYONE'S FAVORITE [number one rated salesman 1997!]" He grins, leaning in close enough he could bump arms with you with just a simple reach forward. "I DON'T GIVE OUT HOT TICKET INFORMATION FOR FREE THOUGH, [[toots]]..."
"Name a price then."
"That [desperate] for me, doll? Can't say I didn't see this coming…" the way he growls that at you, voice dropped to a low tone, it sends a shiver down your spine. He's leaned forward, and you can smell the faintest hint of cologne, overpowered by the heady smoke smell coming from Spamton's lips.
"I-I have no idea what you mean…"
His hand brushes your arm and you feel your whole body almost jolt.
"Don't think I didn't [check out our notice boards] you [catching glances]...[toots.]"
"And… if I was?"
He laughs a little, and it sends your nerves ablaze. Then, he says your name, smooth and melodic and not a hint of a glitch in his system.
"....just what kind of services do you think I offer?"
Your whole face flushes, stammering out some sort of explanation for yourself even though you yourself know you don't have one. Your voice cracks when he unbutton a part of his shirt and you just catch sight of some chest hair.
Holy shit this shouldn't send your insides twisting this is some puppet you met in a dumpster and-
"Doll..?"
Spamton's hand is on your arm but no further, looking at you with actual concern.
"Too much?"
"N-No no! It's not that, it's just…" you wave a hand, trying to find the right words.
Never been with a darkner…
...or a lightner…
or anyone really.
"NO NEED TO [sugarcoat] IT!" he's back in salesman mode, letting go of your arm. "NOT EVERYONE [get to digging] THE PUPPET LOOK! NO WORRIES!" Spamton even seems to be blushing like he had made a horrible miscalculation, a real deal breaker .
"It's not that! It's.. uh.. I've never been with.." your whole face goes red the moment his eyebrows raise. " I'veneverbeenwithanyonebefore.." you say it so fast and so quiet if it wasn't just you two in his quiet store it might not have been heard.
Spamton makes a noise that sounds like a car honk, a puff of steam escaping his teeth.
“Y-YOU’VE NEVER HAD [sideways mambo]??”
“N-no..”
He leans forward, seeming to be enraptured by this new information.
“NO [rousing game of] [[tonsil]] [tennis]?”
You’re curled in on yourself, crossing your legs and trying not to make eye contact, the way he’s looking at you is downright primal, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t give you chills.
“Nope..”
“NOT EVEN A LITTLE [PDA]???”
With the way Spamton claps his hands together and shakes them, you blink. Then, you sigh and roll your eyes, looking at him with a huff.
“I’ve held hands with people before, Mr Spamton...”
“A’COURSE YOU HAVE! WE ALL HAVE! BUT WHAT ABOUT..” He’s grinning like a mad man, offering a hand to you. “Carnally.”
Shakily, you raise your hand to take his and he meets you halfway, taking your hand and giving it a firm squeeze.
“COME ON OVER HERE, [Doll], LET OL SPAMTON HERE [show you the ropes]"
You carefully get up out of your seat, walking around that desk and blushing as you're pulled into the puppets lap, and he helps you settle in and straddle his lap. Your knees press into the worn leather, soft under the fabric of your jeans, blushing as he wraps his arms around your waist to keep you steady.
"YOU REALLY AINT EVER [swapped spit?]" He asked, not in a teasing manner like you expected actually, feeling one hand already roving upwards to rub your back, and when you shake your head he brings that hand up to the back of your neck. "IT'S EASY! YOU JUST…"
Spamton starts to bring you closer, tilting his head so his nose doesn't poke you.
"go with.."
He's a breath away, teeth so close to your lips, the smell of smoke wafting up into your nose from this distance.
You'll admit that you don't hate it.
"the flow."
Then he's on you, gently pressing his teeth to your lips, kissing you the only way he can. It's soft, gentle, and the way his hands are gently rubbing your neck and side is sending static up your limbs all the way to your fingertips as your eyelids slip shut. It's not how you expected your first kiss, and it's not a proper kiss like you'd most likely get with other monsters, but it's exciting all the same. You try your best to kiss back, and even with the incompatible anatomy he can tell you're trying. It's messy, but he doesn't seem to want to stop until you pull back for a breath.
He laughs a little when he sees your eyes still shut. You open them, face flushed as he nuzzles his nose into your jaw.
"How ya feelin, [toots]?"
"W-wow.."
"I GOT THAT EFFECT ON PEOPLE!" he cackles, letting out a peep when you lean in to kiss him again. He hadn't expected you to be so proactive, kissing him back. He expected to be the one to take the reins this whole time, but your hands are on his slightly scratchy jaw and kissing him as best as you can.
You feel his mou… teeth open slightly, and something wet brushes your lower lip, and you actually let out a noise when your mouth opens and you feel something thick and wet invade past your lips. You feel his hands pause when you make that sound, a silent are you okay? that you gladly do your best to kiss back to tell him you're fine. His tongue is roaming your mouth, running along the insides of your cheeks before wrapping around your own tongue, and you find yourself wrapping your lips more around the appendage. Spamton actually moans against your mouth as you suck on it.
He shifts beneath you, physically having to hold himself back as his hands shake and his body yearns to grab the reins and take you right there on his desk.
But he can't, not yet.
To him you're still a newbie, going too hard too fast will surely scare you off, especially with his equipment, and Spamton would be lying if he said he wasn't going through an awful dry spell that his own hand and wildest imagination could never satiate.
Gotta keep a returning customer somehow, right?
He pulls away with a wet pop, dark saliva dripping down your chin. Steam is constantly pouring from his teeth and he feels his throat go dry when he sees a bit of it plume out of your own mouth when you open it for a breath.
Spamton doesn't even check in with you this time, pulling you back down to his level but instead of your lips, he's at your neck. Licking a stripe of darkness up your neck, Spamton takes to kissing and nipping, knowing he's probably leaving marks but too focused to truly give a shit. Hell, he'd offer you a shirt on the house to cover it if it meant he could have you like this whenever he wanted. His hands are roaming your body, wordlessly rising up your shirt and squeezing your sides, running his hands up your bare back.
It sets a fire in his belly when he feels your hips jolt, huffing out a laugh as he grips your hips and grinds upwards. You practically keen at the friction, curling in on the puppet below you. Spamton's brought one hand to the front, grasping at your chest and squeezing the flesh he finds there. You let out a breathy moan, and he's back to pressing soft kisses to your jaw.
"Y'KNOW…" Spamton starts, his thumb languidly rubbing circles on your nipple, "YOU'RE DOING SO [great job!], YOU KNOW WHAT I THINK?"
You don't answer at first, brain hazy as your whole body feels on fire.
"Come on.. work with me here.." he gives you a pinch and you gasp, hips bucking. You're so sure you felt some sort of bulge and it's hit you that you have no idea what exactly Spamton is packing. "I think…"
Suddenly you feel Spamton wrap his arm tight around you, your chest flush with his as he stands, shockingly strong for guy of his stature, an arm holding your legs up as he lays you down onto the desk. He's leaned over you, nestled between your legs as he rests his chin on your belly.
"I think you deserve a lil reward…"
Your heart's racing, perched up on your elbows and just staring at Spamton with hazy eyes. Were you really doing this?? You'd just met him yesterday, he's only taken your first kiss moments before, and yet..
"Wh-what kind of reward..?"
He moves back, lightly rubbing his cheek on your thigh.
"WHAT KIND WERE YOU THINKIN?" he nuzzles his nose against the fabric, close to the junction of your hip and thigh. "I WAS PERSONALLY THINKIN' A LITTLE [to go meal only 4 99]"
It takes you a moment to register what he's saying and when the realization hits you you flush a bright red.
"I… As long as you know what you're doing? I.. I don't know how to return the favor.." you jump when he pats your thigh.
"DID YOU EVER HEAR ME SAY I WANTED ANY [vacuum pricing starting at-]? LET YOUR FAVORITE SALESMAN REWARD YOU, [toots]!"
You shuck off your jacket, rolling it up to put it behind your head, lifting your hips as Spamton makes quick work of your jeans, tossing them on the floor nearby before shucking off your underwear. He practically has heart eyes when he nuzzles into your thigh, eyeing your heated sex like it's a five course meal and he a starving man.
"AINT YOU A BEAUT!" He brings a hand up, warn to the touch as he rubs your inner thigh, eyes lidded as he watches your body shiver. He brings that hand down to your sex, running his thumb along it and delighting in the way you keen. "AND A [soundtracks on disc] TOO.."
"S-Spamton…" your breath comes out shaky, and a moan is ripped out of your throat when he runs his tongue along your sex. He pulls back for a moment, nose resting on your hips as he brings his mouth to your entrance. You can't see what he's doing and your only hint is the hot breath you feel on your skin before his tongue slithers out and carefully pushes inside of you. The moan that escapes you is like music to his ears, holding your shaking legs open as he slowly thrusts the appendage in and out of you at a steady pace. He's much longer than you realise, his tongue literally almost down your throat earlier should have been the indicator, but here and now your eyes are rolling and he's looking so pleased with himself, so much so his eyes are almost going crossed. He lets go of one leg to let it rest on his shoulder, nose pressed against your groin as he pushes his tongue as far in as he can.
Your eyes widen as he hits a particular spot inside of you, back arching off his desk in a borderline yell. He reads it as an invitation, quickening the pace he's set with his tongue as he pushes it as deep as he can just to hear you cry out like that. Catching the perfect angle to hit that spot with each thrust in of his tongue. A hand comes up, giving attention to your sex just to hear you cry out into the open air.
It's so good, too hot, you're clenched hard on his tongue as you grip your jacket behind your head.
You know this feeling that's rearing its head at least; pooling in your groin and you try to warn the salesman between your legs but it's too late.
Spamton's name rips out of your throat as you cum, fluids rushing out of you and sending your body careening off the metaphorical ledge.
Spamton keeps thrusting at first, slow and languid to let you ride out the orgasm before eventually pulling his tongue out. He licks up your body, cleaning up your spend with a cheerful little hum before kissing your thigh and letting you relax, spent and slumped against the hardwood of his desk.
Holy shit…
That was..
"HOW'RE YA HOLDIN UP, [sweetcheeks]?" He's got one hand tucked below, and even you can tell he's languidly palming his groin. "YOU DID A REAL [super duper] JOB.."
"I feel like I got hit by a bus.."
"MOST FIRST TIMES [coming and going] DO!"
You bite your tongue from saying something, deciding to nod instead as you finally sit up.
Spamton helps clean you up, and you offer to help him out but he shakes his head, watching you slowly start to redress.
"AS MUCH AS I’D LOVE A LITTLE [lights, camera, action], YOU'RE TAKING IT EASY!" He accentuates it with a poke to your chest. "I AINT BREAKING MY [valued customer]."
You can't help but roll your eyes and laugh.
"Hold me to it next time then, or it's not fair to you."
He seems to sputter at that in disbelief.
"N NEXT TIME??"
You blush a little at his surprise.
"Is that a bad thing?"
"NO NO NO NOT AT ALL!"
You lean forward to kiss Spamton again. It's much softer than earlier, and he seems to perk up at that.
"Then it's a deal."