Bucky’s enough of a gentleman that he waits until they’re alone to tug his shirt off. “Alright. Have at it.”
He drops his shirt on the floor to find Steve looking studiously away from him, suddenly very interested in the bookcase. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Uh huh.” Bucky rolls his shoulders. It feels good to have the shirt off, to be free again. Even just keeping it on during the ride back from Banner’s apartment/lab had him feeling tense and itchy, the cotton harsh on his sensitive new skin. “You’re acting like I’m one of your future friends. I know you, Rogers.”
“Fuck you,” Steve says, but he’s looking now. He’s blushing already, cheeks pink, and his pupils starting to dilate a little. Now that he has a proper audience, Bucky flexes. And Steve moans.
Sure, maybe they should be more concerned, but sprouting tentacles is hardly the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to Bucky. So far, the best guess is that it’s a hex of some kind, and what kind of goddamn life is Bucky living that hexes are a thing he needs to worry about. Dr. Banner took plenty of measurements and samples and whatnot, so he’s on the case. There’s nothing left to do now except make the most of it. Of them.
For how new they are, Bucky has a surprising amount of control over them. Two flesh-colored tentacles sprouting from each of his sides, about as thick as his arm at the base and tapering down to a delicate tip. He may not know where they came from, but as long as they’re here, they’re his.
And he knows exactly what to do with them.
Steve approaches slowly. Bucky’s uncurled his tentacles, stretching them out. He brings one around to the front, reaching toward Steve. Not all the way, though. Steve has to take that last step himself, the one that Bucky knows he’s just dying to take. Steve makes eye contact with him, one last pleading look. Bucky just arches his eyebrows.
“Jerk.” Steve’s barely even finished insulting him before he’s wrapping his hand gently around Bucky’s tentacle. Bucky can feel it, a weird shiver in a place that shouldn’t be there, and he flexes it in Steve’s grip. It’s practically solid muscle, the whole thing shifting sinuously, and Steve whimpers a little when it moves across his palm.
He plays with it, stroking gently to get a feel before he tugs it closer, watching Bucky through his lashes as he slowly guides his tentacle to his mouth. Steve kisses the tip first, softly, then runs his tongue along the last six inches or so. This time it’s Bucky’s turn to whimper.
“It tastes like you,” Steve says. He slurps at the tip again, using his tongue to move it from one side of his mouth to the other. Bucky twitches it, brushing the inside of Steve’s cheek, and is rewarded with the scrape of teeth. “Don’t rush me.”
Bucky grunts. “You’re slow.”
“Not like this’ll ever happen again.” Steve snorts and strokes his hand along the tentacle, letting it leave his mouth just enough for the tip to rest on his plush lower lip. Bucky presses against it, gently, like he would with his thumb. Steve’s lashes flutter, the flush rising in his cheeks. His tongue darts out to lick his lips, brushing against the tip of the tentacle. “I want to enjoy it.”
He looks so fucking pretty like this, wanton and eager. Even though he’s trying to hold himself together, Bucky can see how wrecked he is already. But there’s always more.
“I guess,” Bucky says, shrugging his shoulders and with his other tentacles. It’s odd, to have flesh appendages on his left side again, just below his metal arm. “I just figured you’d want me to fuck you with it.”
Because Bucky knows Steve. And he knows Steve Rogers never met something he didn’t at least consider shoving up his ass.
Steve’s eyes light up. He grabs Bucky by the tentacle and yanks him toward the bedroom.
“Ow, fuck. These things are attached, y’know.”
Steve doesn’t waste time once they’re in the bedroom. He pulls off his shirt and is stepping out of his jeans and briefs in practically the blink of an eye. It only takes a moment for Bucky to unbutton his own jeans and join him.
Having four extra limbs definitely makes the bed feel a lot more crowded. It takes a little finagling to figure out the right positioning, but Steve ends up reclining on a veritable throne of pillows, thighs sprawled wide with Bucky settled between them. Would have been a hell of a lot easier if Steve was just willing to stick his ass in the air, but no. He wants to watch.
It’s surprisingly easy to slip the tip of his tentacle into Steve. It shouldn’t be a surprise; the tip isn’t any thicker than his fingers, and he insisted on lubing himself up to kingdom come, much to Steve’s annoyance. But watching the tip of a tentacle slide inside is so different from a finger, feels so different from a finger. It must be different for Steve too; he gasps and squirms immediately.
Bucky looks up at his face just to check; Steve’s cheeks are flushed red and he’s biting his lower lip hard. “Good?”
“Fuck, yes.” Steve shivers and shifts a little. Bucky’s only just barely got his tentacle inside, and it’s already so much for both of them. “Keep going.”
Bucky’s careful as he pushes forward, slowly working Steve open with his tentacle. He’s ready to stop at any moment, when it gets to be too much or too fucking weird, but Steve is loving it. He stares down his own front, watching as the tentacle disappears into his ass. The muscles in his stomach and chest flex as he breathes and tenses, holding himself back.
A lot of the time it feels like he doesn’t have enough hands when he and Steve are in bed together. And tonight, for the first time, that’s not a problem. He can hold Steve’s knees open with his hands, curl two tentacles in tease Steve’s nipples, keep fucking him...and still have spare to coil around Steve’s cock.
Steve keens, straining against Bucky’s grip as his whole body goes taut with pleasure. “Holy shit.”
“You’re so fucking dirty,” Bucky says, like he isn’t the one with a tentacle still pushing deeper into Steve’s ass. He’s definitely at least as far in as the length of his dick now, but Steve is giving no indication he wants to stop. Very much the opposite, in fact. He’s so hot and tight, clenching down around Bucky. The tentacle is more sensitive than his fingers but less sensitive than his dick, offering a completely new experience of being buried in Steve. His own cock is hard and leaking against his belly, but he ignores it. He can get off every damn day of his life; this is probably the only time he’ll get to fuck his boyfriend with tentacles. Hopefully.
Unlike his dick, the tentacle just keeps getting thicker. Steve is starting to work his hips a little now, stretched so tight around the width of it. He whimpers a little, and Bucky can feel him clench and release around the tentacle, trying to adjust.
Bucky rubs the inside of Steve’s thigh gently. “You want me to stop?”
“No, god, just…” Steve’s panting now, like he does after a big fight. He rolls his shoulders, like he working out the tension in his body can make him open up more. “Talk me through it? Need you to...need to hear you.”
Bucky can’t help but grin at that. “You always did like the dirty talk, didn’t you, baby?” Steve moans softly, and Bucky keeps petting his thigh as he talks. “You can do this. Look at how much you already took for me, sugar. You love it, huh, being filled all the way up?”
Steve whimpers. Bucky considers that agreement and pushes in a little bit deeper.
“My dick’s not gonna be enough for you after this, huh? You gotta have more, gotta go bigger.”
“No,” Steve moans out the word, but he’s relaxing, opening up. “Never, Buck, love your dick.”
Bucky’s dick twitches at the compliment, leaking a little more slick in anticipation. “How about I fuck you with my dick when I’m done with this thing, then? You’ll be so open and ready for me, just slip right in.”
Steve moans piteously, and Bucky grins. He keeps working Steve open and he keeps talking, not even sure exactly what he’s saying. Just a constant soothing litany, a mixture of praise and filth that keep Steve blushing and squirming. It’s slow going, and Bucky keeps pausing to add more lube, but it goes.
Goes until he’s got the equivalent of about a forearm’s length and width worth of tentacle shoved up Steve’s ass. Steve really starts breathing hard then, and Bucky stops. On a whim, he squirms, flexing the tentacle where it’s surrounded by Steve’s tight heat. And Steve jizzes all over himself before he can draw another breath.
“Wow,” Bucky says. Steve’s always a work of fucking art, but he’s especially gorgeous like this, spent and panting and satisfied. His flat belly painted with come.
Steve whines a little when Bucky slides out, even though he does it as gently as he can. He’s about to move away to find something to clean up with; Steve, with his killer reflexes, catches his wrist before he can pull away.
“You said you’d fuck me.” Steve’s voice is rough and wrecked, and he’s staring down at Bucky like he’s going to eat him.
Bucky’s not dumb enough to ask Steve if he’s sure. And he was right - sliding into Steve is like nothing. He’s so slick and obviously tender. He grabs at Bucky’s back, pulling him closer even as he hisses at the pressure on such sensitive parts. Luckily, Bucky doesn’t need much after all that. He comes after a few quick and dirty thrusts, leaning in to kiss Steve hard through it.
They lie there like that for a while, breathing together. Steve shifts a little, and Bucky moves to get off him, but Steve makes a soft protesting noise.
“What do you need, baby?” Bucky kisses his neck.
“Would you…” Steve groans, and Bucky can practically feel the heat of his flush when he mumbles, “Will you hold me with them?”
Bucky snorts. “You really are a goddamn pervert, Rogers.” They have to rearrange slightly, stretching out on their sides. Bucky takes big spoon and curls his tentacles all around Steve, like a big cocoon. He feels Steve as he tenses, shivers, then relaxes.
“S’just nice,” Steve mumbles. Bucky can’t see his face, but he knows that Steve’s smiling. “Always used to feel like I was all wrapped up in you, y’know?”
Bucky kisses the back of Steve’s neck and squeezes him gently. Definitely the best hex ever.