Work Text:
Spamton had a rare moment of time alone, resting his feet up on the arm of the green room couch, a cigar burning in his mouth. Tenna had taken off from the studio early to start working on scripts, and practically every employee followed suit after him. He usually never stayed after hours, hell, he was probably always the first person out the door, but something was keeping him behind today.
He’d had a nagging thought lingering from yesterday when they were filming one of the car commercials, a light blush on his cheeks as he ran his hand over the shiny varnish, fingers resting on the gear stick.
The moment he realized he’d been practically eyefucking his car he’d gotten so embarrassed that he called off the shoot early, running into one of the bathrooms and splashing his face with water until he calmed down.
He’d always joked about loving his car a bit too much, and the pippins were always jabbing at him, saying he was probably making love to the damn thing after hours, but the fact that he was even considering it now made him feel like he was losing his mind.
Maybe he was just pent up, maybe it was because Tenna had been too busy boozing it up with sponsors and hunched over his desk with scripts to pay any attention to him. That's right, he was just so horny he wasn’t thinking straight, he was in absolutely no way attracted to his car.
The definitely not aggressively horny Spamton let out a heavy sigh, pushing himself off the couch and squashing the end of his cigar onto the coffee table in front of him, not bothering to wipe the ashes before he stood from his seat and hesitantly glanced about.
He snuck through the empty halls, keeping his steps light even though he knew he was the only one around. He could never be too cautious, he rationalized. He smiled as the doors to the back area of the studio came into view, marked by those familiar gaudy oversized doors, built to accommodate Tenna’s unreasonable height.
He slowly pushed them open, wincing at the loud creaking of its old joints, running his hands along the wall before his hands found the lightswitch that he quickly flipped on. The studio lights focused on the pristine sports cars displayed on pure white stages, perfectly waxed without a single sign of wear.
He focused in on his prized beauty, the original cungadero model, painted a bright cherry red with that iconic yellow lightning bolt across the side, the very same one he’d driven in his first ever Big Shot Auto’s ad. The ol’ girl had been with him for everything, his rise to fame, signing the deal with TV Time, when he’d finally gotten a spot in Queen's mansion, everything.
He hesitated to even touch the car, he hadn’t driven it ever since he’d put it up for show. He was never usually like that, never precious with his things or with his memories, but something about this ride made him so sentimental. He rumaged around in his pockets, pulling out his keys and unlocking the door, listening for the little click.
He swallowed hard, shutting the door behind him and settling into the soft leather driver’s seat, laying back on the cushions as his hands slowly, sensually dragged over the center console of the car. God, he was really doing this.
His hands trembled as he re-adjusted the mirror, angling it so that he could see himself perfectly in the reflection, before the hand slowly trailed down to the gear shift, joints dancing along the smooth plastic that covered the top of the knob.
He shakily grabbed his keys and put them into the ignition, biting his lip as the car flared to life, that familiar low purr filling his ears, the car gently shaking around him. In a strange way, it was almost adorable to him how the car moved, like it really could react to every way he touched it.
He quickly unbuckled his belt, dropping it to the floor in front of him and pulling down his boxers, already finding himself wet and dripping. Angel above, he’d gotten himself worked up over what, fantasizing about his car getting off to him touching it?
He figured this must be some sort of sickness in his head, or a weird offshoot of narcissism for him to be into this, probably projecting onto the car in some way. He chuckled, he was literally looking at himself in one of the mirrors as he got off, so maybe it really was just some sick infatuation with his own face.
He grinned at himself in the mirror, moving his head at different angles to admire his jawline and slick, meticulously kept hair. With a body this good and looks like these could you really blame him for getting so hot and bothered?
He spread his legs, slipping a finger inside himself and slowly pumping the digit in and out, his other fingers slowly rubbing circles against his t-dick, thighs quivering as he craved for something bigger, but he knew he had to stretch himself out first, no use in being impatient, but god was it agonizing.
His breaths progressed into pants as he moved his hand faster, head thrown back as he closed his eyes and soaked in the vibrations of the car around him, imagining that the humming of the engine was like a heartbeat. His eyes fluttered open as he focused his eyes on his reflection, a shiver shooting up his spine as he saw just how messy he looked in the mirror.
His hair had already begun sticking to his sweaty forehead, his face completely covered in a deep red blush. He grinned, using his fingers to spread himself open as if he was putting on a show, slowly moving his other hand to unbutton his suit, feeling unbearably hot against his warm skin.
He threw the suit into the back seat, still feeling unbearably hot despite being almost entirely naked. He didn’t roll the windows on the car down, too concerned that someone would hear his moans and catch him doing his little exhibitionism stunt.
He glanced over at the gearshift, a ridiculous idea flashing across his mind, but he was far too eager to get off to even realize how stupid he was being. He scrambled to open the glove box, grabbing a half empty bottle of lube and some packets of extra large condoms, something he’d begun keeping for quickies in the back with Tenna.
He stretched the condom over the stick, thoroughly covering it in lube before he hesitantly lifted his hips, hovering just above it and thinking to himself if he was actually about to fuck his car.
He decided the answer was yes.
He slowly lowered his hips, groaning as the flat rounded head of the stick pushed inside him, the cold lube and plastic together making him shiver. He whimpered as he took it even deeper, and before he knew it he was flush with the console, straddling it, his hands pressing down onto the dash in front of him.
“F-fuck god that’s- fuck-.” His breaths were heavy, and looking at himself in the reflection he could see a slight bulge poking out from his stomach. It made him tighten up around the stick, shuddering as he pressed his palm up against the bump.
He swore he could feel the car’s engine roar, as if it was incentivising him to start moving, to really put on a proper performance, and he obeyed, because he knew he’d never had a bad performance in his life. He whined as the bumps on the underside of the stick rubbed perfectly against just the right spot inside him, drool running from the corner of his mouth.
“Hahh- A-am I doin’ good for you, baby?” He whispered, his pace quickening with every slam of his hips, staring at himself intently. “Look at me- god- I’m a mess-” He shakily laughed, his head feeling light with pleasure, some of the lube gushing out from inside himself, dripping down the side of the seats.
His pace faltered as his hand slipped off the dash and the stick slammed inside him as his hips fell, stars dancing across his vision, back arching and eyes rolling back into his head. His nails clawed against the delicate brown leather on the arm resting beside him, overwhelming pleasure wracking through him.
He knew he was close to cumming, he could tell from how his entire body couldn’t stop trembling, from how he struggled to keep a solid rhythm with his hips and how his skin felt like it had been lit on fire. His face was completely red in the mirror, his eyes were glazed over with pleasure but he couldn’t stop himself.
He grit his teeth as he moved even rougher, imagining how Tenna would look now, seeing him like this. Would he get jealous, watching him get off all by himself? Would he realize that his cock wasn't even all that impressive, and that Spamton could do just fine without him?
His grip on the arm rest beside him grew harder as he imagined Tenna watching him, jerking off and trying to match his rhythm. Tenna would probably have that stupid expression on his face, tongue out and panting like a dog, antennae all twisted up above his head, tail wagging like a madman.
He knew he didn’t look any better now, and he collapsed forwards onto the dash, knocking the mirror askew, only able to see himself in the faint reflection of his windshield through his lidded eyes. The light vibrations from the car’s running engine made him squirm, even when he tried to rest the stimulation was unrelenting, and soon he felt himself topple over the edge.
He screamed as the orgasm slammed into him, insides clenching and thighs squeezing along the side of the seats, his cunt twitching and squirting all over the console in front of him, his vision flashing in and out of consciousness as he tried to hold himself together, hips still unconsciously twitching down onto the insertion.
He struggled to catch his breath, each one coming out in short desperate huffs, embarrassment beginning to seep into his bones as he was hit with an overwhelming wave of clarity. The entire front seat of the car was drenched, it would almost be impressive if he wasn’t so completely humiliated and angry at the mess he’d made.
He slumped over on himself, overstimulation already burning as he tried to pull himself off the stick, the car still thrumming around him. His hands shook as he finally took the key out of the ignition, the engine calming until it was silent and the buzzing of the mechanics stopped shaking the car.
He took a deep breath, a sudden urgency to leave the office as soon as possible flooding into his mind, too ashamed of himself to stay here for any longer than he needed too, and he’d already begun to worry that maybe he’d made enough of a racket that someone would come in and check on him.
Biting back the overwhelming sensation burning inside him, he slowly lifted himself off the stick, moaning as each bump and groove along the gearshift slowly slid out of him, finally releasing with a quiet wet pop alongside another gush of his fluids.
He opened the glove box and stored the condoms and lube, grabbing out bunches of crinkled napkins he’d stolen from fast food places to wipe himself and the seats with. As soon as he got himself reasonably dry enough he put on his clothes, hoping that if he did get walked in on he’d be able to just play it off as checking up on the product.
The next few minutes were spent in quiet introspection as he mopped up the cum all over the inside of his car, cheeks burning so hard that he swore they’d be sunburnt tomorrow. He would never speak of this again, not to anybody, not even on his deathbed.
He shoved the bunches of used napkins into the nearby trash cans, wiping his hands on his pants and rushing out the back door of the studio, glancing behind him with every step to check if he was being followed.
He let out a sigh of relief, before he slammed face first into a figure in front of him. A very tall and very familiar figure.
“T-Tenna! Haha- b-back so soon? I thought you'd've hit the hay by now!” His voice trembled a bit as he spoke, and his hands nervously fidgeted with his tie, as if he was trying to physically cover up his shame.
Tenna, for some reason, seemed equally as flustered as he, waving his hands and sputtering out a response, “O-oh! Just saw some of the lights on and went to check in! You were- uh- working hard? Burning some midnight oil?”
He coughed into his fist, nodding and squinting his eyes. “Yeah, yeah of course. But uh-” He let out a fake yawn, stretching out his back for extra emphasis, “-All this workin’s really tired me out, so sweet dream’s Ten’s!”
He didn’t wait for Tenna’s response, shoving past him and speed walking back to Queen’s mansion, trying every way he could think to expunge the past few hours from his memory.
---
Tenna watched as Spamton ran out the back exit to the studio, his heart beating out of his chest as an overwhelming redness grew on his screen. He knew Spamton loved his car, he talked to it like it was alive, but he never thought he would…
He shook his head, trying write it off, ignoring how much it aroused him to see his maybe boyfriend- friends with benefits- business partner fuck himself on his own automobile.
Wait.
He looked down, a raging erection growing only larger in his paints, straining against the fabric.
Why was he getting hard?