A Man of The Pipis: A SpamtonxReader fic

In [Shambles]

After you'd finished your small meal, you hesitantly turned your attention back the Spamton, who had moved on to stare out your window the faced the street. He hadn't said a word to you since the awkward event moments ago aside from small sputters of broken advertisements and static that would occasionally blurt out from his perpetually grinning mouth. You took his plate, assuming he was done, and threw away the completely flattened bagels. I could use them as actual CDs now, but what would I put on them anyway? You wondered as you cleaned up. "Sooo, Spamton, what's your plan now?" You asked timidly, sitting on the couch. He turned and bounded over from the window, hopping onto the couch beside you. "Get [EmptyDisc] from Queen's [Mansion] for [Workout ready body]!" He spoke what sounded to you like nonsense, but his stare was intense through the multicolored glasses, so it must mean something to him. "Uhh.. I meant, like, where're you gonna go now?" You alluded to you not wanting him to stay, but you're not sure he took the hint or maybe he flat-out ignored it, because he responded, "Well I'm staying with you! You think I wanna go [backstage] to that [dumpster] [all alone on a late night]? You must be [Coconuts]!!" He scoffed. You looked away from him at your coffee table, realizing your mistake. No one you know would want to go back to a place like that. Why would you assume he would? "Okay, er, are you okay with the couch? It's not a fold-out." You asked, looking at him. He kicked his legs childishly over the side of the couch and clasped his small hands. "I'll be fine! I've lived [at the bottom of a dumpster] for long enough, a [$4.99] couch'll be [Heaven]!" He chimed, letting out a little manic laughter. You smirked. His appreciation of the small things was refreshing. Living in a city like this means you didn't get people who treated every day they were alive like a gift. They were either plugged or broke or taking their lives for granted in an attempt to chase glory. It seems Spamton's little fall from grace made him a little more thankful for what he had, if not a little more selfish as well. "Do, uh.. Do you wanna wash up? I can run to the laundromat down the road and-" You suggested, only to be cut off by his little cold hands gripping the sleeve of your shirt tightly. "EHAHeh..! N-No! That won't be necessary!! I've [Got your insurance covered] I can [Shiny Tires Car wash] by myself!!" He blurted in a torrent of static and advertisements. You were taken aback by his sudden outburst and he could see it on your face. He let go and took a step back, his smile faltering slightly. The light of his glasses flickered and he tittered softly, clasping his hands. "I- er- Mean.. Ehahah.." He started again, but you sighed, knowing what he meant. "You don't wanna be alone again?" You asked and his eyes dimmed as he nodded. You nodded in turn and stood. "Okay. Well, maybe I can wash your teeny jacket? I just don't know how well you've kept up living in a garbage can... I-I mean, like, no offense-" You overcorrected and felt like you sounded stupid. He just laughed and hopped off of the couch. "None taken! I'm a bit of a [Raggedy Anne]!" He hummed contently. "Opportunities to [Cleansing body wash] were sparse, but I made sure to [Remember the essentials]!!" He followed you to the kitchen sink and watched you as you rummaged through the lower cabinet, looking for detergent. You found some and hefted it onto the counter, making sure not to spill the bottle of Queen brand Cleaner. You'd done that before and ruined your favorite kitchen carpet. You wondered how they'd patent such a potent chemical, but remembered that you live under a monarchy and that doesn't really matter. In the split second you'd taken your eyes off of Spamton, he'd managed to somehow end up sitting on the counter that was just barely taller than him. You watched as he kicked his legs and twiddled his thumbs, looking at his jacket and undershirt which seemed relatively well taken care of. One of the best things about living in cyber city is that the garbage never really smelled. When you've got a city populated with mostly robots and a few monsters, the most rubbish you get is plastic, metal, and wire. Nothing that can really rot.
As you filled the sink up with warm water, you mixed in the detergent and a thought crossed your mind which you couldn't contain. "Shouldn't I leave the room if you'll be naked without clothes?" You blurt and immediately clap a hand over your mouth. Spamton looks at you and his grin widens slightly as you can tell he's suppressing laughter. "DAMN [Hochi mama] SEEMS THAT [dumpster] OF YOURS IS [cooking up a nice meal] THOUGHTS!!" He erupts with laughter, nearly falling off of the counter. After a moment he abruptly stops and his glasses flash like neon signs as he says, "I'm [flattered], you'd wonder such [terrifying] things about a [Big Shot] like me," he then continued his bout of laughter, causing your face to flush red. You leave the room for a second, hearing his distorted laugh from the kitchen as you gathered some old clothes that had shrunk in the wash. You remember going to the laundromat with Chet when you'd first moved in together. You felt so embarrassed that you shrunk your favorite T-shirt, but Chet just laughed it off and teased you about it for a week. You didn't mind, though, he was awfully good about not making you feel too stupid.
You break out of your stupor when you hear silence. He's not laughing anymore and the water's stopped running. You walk back into the kitchen to find him scrubbing away at his jacket, talking nonsense to himself as he did. Seems the jacket at least was removable. Maybe he was designed to have sort of.. Built-in clothes? Like, that's just his body? You wondered as you stared, not processing his occasional glances at you holding a tiny shirt. "Take a picture, it'll [Last your entire life]." He piped, making you jump look at the floor. "Ehaheh! Silly [little sponge].." He chortled, "OOH, is that for me??" He suddenly asked as he wrung out the jacket gently, laying it flat on the counter before hopping down and trotting up to you. "Y/N, you shouldn't haaave!!" He takes the T-shirt from your hand. It's a little big, but he seems to not mind. Without his jacket, he just seemed to have a white turtleneck with connected white pants and shoes. All of it was connected, now that you look at it. Basic Addison design, pretty much. He puts on the shirt and admires the design on the front; a faded band album cover. Something you had taken with you upon stumbling into the Darkner world. It wasn't much, but at least he was clean and happy, something he'd probably not been in a while...