I LOVE TV!!!!!!!!!!

a perverted, desperate, pathetic coward who can't stop staring but folds the second you catch him. you've learned this, and now you're milking it for all it's worth. standing just close enough that he could lean down and catch a whiff of your shampoo, then stepping away like you forgot something in the other room, leaving him there with his grin flipped upside down and his gaze gone all droopy. bending over to adjust a cable, taking your sweet time, knowing damn well that his antennae are twitching. Tenna thinks not having eyes is gonna save him, as if the way his screen immediately tilts down every time you turn around isn't a dead giveaway. the too-long pause before he remembers he's supposed to be saying words, it's not exactly a mystery what's got his attention. you straighten up, glance back with a clueless little smile, and he recovers eventually, coughs into his fist, mumbling, “goodness, sure is balmy in here, huh?”

leaning down to pick something up reveals exactly nothing scandalous, but Tenna acts like he's been handed a glimpse of heaven itself. how easy it is. a gentleman he calls himself, but a gentleman would at least have the decency to hide the way his slacks are tenting obscenely, the outline of him pressing obvious against the zipper. it's so painfully clear what Tenna's thinking about that you almost feel secondhand embarrassment. almost. poor thing genuinely seems to believe that if he just keeps talking, about the weather, the ratings, anything, nobody will notice the way he's half-hard just from the curve of a spine bending in front of him.

the torment continues. Tenna finds reasons to be behind you now, always reaching over your shoulder for something he doesn't need, just happening to be in the same narrow hallway, offering to help you grab a box from a high shelf so he can stand right there while you're bent over.

maybe he deserves a little gold star sticker right on his screen for bravery, for finally pressing close without an excuse, but it's still not enough. you're getting bolder too. a hand planted on his chest, fingers splayed over the suit as you ask him if he's feeling alright because he seems a little warm tonight. huh, what was that? a tiny helpless thrust into nothing? Tenna's hips just bucked the air like a dog who hasn't been taught any manners and you're supposed to pretend you didn't notice? goodness..

maybe now. maybe now's the time. yes... now, definitely now. Tenna's absolutely sure of it. he's never been more sure of anything in his life. this is the moment he finally gets what he's been craving, right?

begging without saying the word, Tenna tells you that everyone's busy, starshine, nobody's around, and five minutes is all a man would need, surely that's not too much to ask, honey, just five minutes, please, he'd make it so good, he swears on his ratings.

how cute. you check your watch. oh, would you look at the time... his screen goes blank for a solid two seconds and when it flickers back on, the wide grin is trembling at the corners. no. no, no, no, this isn't happening. you're not actually looking at the time right now, are you? he finally works up the nerve, pours his heart out, promises the best five minutes of your life, and you're checking your wrist like you've got somewhere better to be?

he's not getting a damn thing, is he?

“you're leaving? oh, my star, don't do that.. c’mon.“ Tenna croaks and it's the most pathetic voice you've ever heard he could do. giggling, you pat his screen right where a cheek would be and tell him maybe next time, big guy. maybe next time.

you're already halfway down the hall, aroused as hell and proud of it, when Tenna’s hopeful voice calls you again. “y-you mean there's gonna be a next time, love? you really mean it? oh, goodness, oh! i-i'll be so good, i'll be the best, you just wait, a fella’s gonna treat you right! just say when, just say when and i'm yours, i'm all yours--“ he's still babbling long after you've turned the corner.

but next time never came. and the next time after that never came either. Tenna stopped finding it funny somewhere around day four, when his usual lurking tactics earned him nothing but a distracted wave and a “sorry, Tens, busy tonight.” the absolute torture of not knowing if you meant it or if you were just toying with him had him pacing his dressing room at odd hours. how come your schedule is suddenly always full? his little star's always got somewhere to be... and isn't that a shame.

however, Tenna's clever enough when he wants to be, which is rare, because most of the time he's too busy drooling over your backside to form a coherent thought. but when the prize is worth it, apparently the man can string two brain cells together, so eventually he decides that next time is gonna be on his terms. no more waiting by the door like some sorry salesman.

bold of him. adorable, really. watching him try to take charge after weeks of following you around like a sad puppy.

deep breath, Tenna, you've got this.

you don't even see it coming. all those weeks of reducing your TV to a staticky mess and suddenly he's figured out how to use those long legs for something other than trailing behind you. maybe he did learn something from all those game shows after all.

is there a predator lurking somewhere under all that pathetic? or is that what Tenna's telling himself while he finally, finally makes a move?

seems like your little game just got hijacked, because he's got you pressed against the wall before you can even open your mouth to tease him. of course you knew this was coming, hell, you'd been counting on it, but the sight of him now still sends a thrill up your spine. has Tenna always been this huge?

“honey... please. don't be so mean to me, we both want each other, don't we? i know you feel it too, i know you do,” big hands braced on either side of you against the wall. “you said next time, you promised... and i waited and waited and you never came back! oh sweetness, that ain't fair to a guy who's been nothing but patient, haha... you've been torturing me for weeks and for what? for fun? you could just have me, darling, you could have me right now, please, i'll be so good, so good for you, i'll make you feel so... oh, the things i'd do to you. just just stop pretending you don't want this too. i'm begging you, is that what you wanna hear? i'm begging.”

you’d laugh at the way the so-called lord of the screens is standing in front of you now, an ordinary darkner, down on his knees, if he weren't panting hot and humid against your neck with little oh, oh, goodness whimpers every time your body presses back against his bulge. Tenna's hands finally land where they've been wanting to for weeks. claws out to snag fabric and drag it slow over your hips, over the curve of an ass he’s been staring at so shamelessly.

as if this pathetic TV hasn't already debased himself enough tonight, humping you like a desperate animal and panting against your neck, you decide he can go even lower. so you reach back to grab a fistful of that yellow tie and yank, making his screen knock against your shoulder with a burst of static, a garbled jeepers! crackling out as you ask him what happened to all that showman confidence.

did it evaporate the second he got on his knees? because a gentleman oughta know what to do with his mouth by now.