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Tony built the tentacles on accident. Grew them, rather. Organic matter, manipulated into the general shape and functions of tentacles. Bruce is impressed, really, watching them squirm under the harsh lamp light shining over their tank of water.
"Righteous, am I right?"
"Not the word I'd use," Bruce says, but he smiles and leans forward, watching their suction cups latch onto the window and tug pointlessly. "But sure. Righteous."
"Three weeks."
"That was fast."
"I actually thought it was going to take less time, but you know. Growing boys need their space." Tony looks into the tank almost fondly.
"They respond you."
"They're made from me." Bruce nods, because that makes sense. Of course Tony's narcissism stretches so far as to use his own DNA and tissue samples to grow Tony Stark Tentacles © in a reinforced fish tank. "I can, essentially, control them."
"Are you looking into suit modifications?"
"Partially. Arming them and being able to use them while I'm focusing elsewhere could be beneficial. My stats say it could increase battle efficiency up to forty percent."
"It could."
"Also, they're great in bed."
Bruce pushes his glasses up his nose. "Ah. That's what this is about."
Bruce has done a lot of things he wouldn't have thought of doing previously since he moved his meager possessions into Stark Tower. Eating caviar with Sprite and coconut shavings for breakfast because "it's what's in the fridge." Submitting to a full body examination under Tony's absolutely most-definitely untrained hands because "this is what inquiring minds require." Laying flat out on the bed, star fished and bored while Tony fits himself with his brand new toy because "I really want to fuck you with tentacles," is just another one.
"Are they sanitary?" Bruce looks up, realizing he's left his glasses on, but probably only because Tony finds it mind-numbingly attractive when he does.
"You ate an alien last week."
"Hulk ate an alien last week." Bruce lets his head fall back on the pillow. "How are you even -- are they stuck to you?" Bruce sits completely up, ignoring Tony's futile attempts to shove him back down. "Jesus, that's obscene."
Tony's eyebrows shoot up. "I know." One of the tentacles reaches forward, pushing against Bruce's chest and forcing him down again. "You're lucky I'm so good at multitasking," he adds, when Bruce jumps at the feeling of one tracing a line of his cock. "I feel like a way sexier Doc Oc."
"Please don't reference megalomaniacal supervillains while you fuck me. Please."
"Sorry, sassafras. Feel good?" The tentacle curls around Bruce dick, slowly jacking him off. Bruce hums. "Oh -- yeah, yeah that does feel good." Bruce looks between them and sees on wrapping around Tony, slipping along his cock, the tip tracing the crown. "You okay?" Bruce nods. Every time the tentacle moves, the suction cups pulls on him and it feels weird, but it feels insanely good, too. He tries to thrust gently into the movement, but the appendage curls a little tighter around him and he freezes, hips arching off the bed and mouth dropping open.
"Tony--"
"Sorry! Sorry! I didn't mean to do that, they're sort of -- fuck -- they sort of want to do their own thing, too. Holy hell, Banner, this is like the greatest idea I've ever had."
"Speak for yourself," Bruce manages. His entire body wants to get fucked and Tony and his Tentacles © are being massive dicks -- and not-so-much-dicks -- and teasing which is just pathetic because Tony isn't exactly a tease. He pastes his kinks on his forehead and writes them on the whiteboard in the lab, checking them off one by one as he and Bruce systematically indulge them.
"You want--"
"Please, drag it out some more!" Bruce half-shouts. "God, this is--"
"I know. I know. Fuck, I didn't realize--" The tentacle around Tony's dick jerks hard and he groans, arms almost buckling on either side of Bruce. "Okay. Okay, I need. Yeah, that's good--" One of the tentacles drops the lube unceremoniously on Bruce's chest and how many are there he wonders, opening his eyes wider to count them. Five. Tony's eyes are always bigger than his stomach. The other two seem anxious, twitching uselessly near Tony's shoulders. Bruce reaches for one, and it gravitates to his hand, shoving under his palm like a cat as he runs his thumb over it affectionately. "Are you serious?"
"Just get on with it," he mutters. Bruce keeps running his thumbs along the suction cups and Tony shivers. "You can feel that?"
"Yeah. And you need to do it again." Bruce traces the rim of every cup he can reach as Tony fumbles the bottle of lube at least seven times before managing to get some in his palm. He holds it there to warm it up, watching Bruce practically fondle the cups. "That is obscene." Bruce grins and Tony coats his fingers, slipping one inside carefully. Bruce's hand squeezes tight around the fleshy extension for a second and Tony's mouth falls open, panting and looking up like he's still deciding between fucking Bruce or killing him.
"Tony." Tony answers by pushing in another finger roughly and splitting them, stretching Bruce's hole. One of the tentacles prods experimentally alongside Tony's fingers and a picture of what's happening to his ass right now must be fucking salacious as Bruce spreads his legs, trying to encourage more. A third finger and then it all curls, right where Tony knows it drives him crazy. He fucks him slowly, then pulls out, drawing a needy groan from Bruce's throat.
"Hey. Chill."
"You chill -- fuck." The tentacle pushes in, slick with lube and eager. Bruce has never, ever, ever fucking ever felt something like it and it's strange and it's weird and it's messing him up inside. He gasps as it keeps going, and going, and going, in and in and then it's out, leaving him empty and relieved and tense and really fucking upset. "Don't fucking--" It comes back, and now Bruce has a death-grip on the other one in his hand and Tony shouts, the tentacle on his dick jerking hard, its mate on Bruce. The lonely spare reaches up and touches Bruce's face, traces the line of his jaw and lips. He barely brushes it with his tongue, already out and panting, but it takes the opportunity and pokes at his mouth. Bruce takes it in and sucks on it and feels fucking weird for doing it, but the way Tony's eyes roll back in his head is completely worth it.
Tony's completely overloaded, every muscle twitching. "JARVIS," he pants. "Picture. Now."
"Of course, sir," the AI purrs and Bruce being weirded out by JARVIS's intrusion into their everything is so three months ago, but he doesn't know if he likes the idea of seeing a picture of himself like this. Tony catches his gaze and grins, but it's oddly reassuring. Like the picture is for them. And suddenly Bruce isn't sure why he thought that this whole thing was supposed to be so calculated and statistical. Why he even assumed that there should be any premise to this other than having his brains fucked out by Tony and his Tentacles © and he really needed to stop thinking of them that way.
Seriously though. It isn't very often you get affectionately boned by your pseudo-boyfriend and his tentacle counterparts.
"God you should see your face. I'm...I'm making two more sets. You get one. Pepper, too. Oh shit--" Tony comes, hitting his own chest and it's just depraved looking and Bruce wants a photo of that. "Fuck."
The appendage in Bruce's mouth falls out. "Tony. Tony, I need -- you have to--"
Tony pulls the tentacle off Bruce's cock and wraps his mouth around it, sucking like a pro, going to town and back. Bruce lasts all of ten seconds, Tony's mouth hot around him as he comes and Tony swallows. He clenches around the tentacle still in his ass and Tony flinches, body falling forward, still coming off his own high. It pulls out and Bruce's entire body melts onto the bed. Tony staggers to the bathroom, and Bruce hears the shower come on and the systematic plop of the tentacles hitting the floor. He comes back, the places where they'd stuck to his body red and shining. Bruce reaches forward and traces the outline of one with his thumb.
"Was it weird?"
"Huh?" Tony is totally out of it.
"Having them. Was it weird?"
"Sort of. Not used to it. Sleep, Jesus man."
"I liked it," Bruce says quietly, curling his arms around Tony's waist. "You looked good."
"Mmm, you know I love it when I can add more weird shit to my body." He taps the arc reactor. "Makes me feel special."
"I'm surprised you didn't have one in your own ass," Bruce says, his tongue loose and his filter not really working.
"Yeah, you know? Fucking myself? Not really in my comfort zone."
Bruce snorts. "I wasn't aware you had a comfort zone."
"When it comes to things going up my ass, yeah. Kind of do."
Bruce closes his eyes and pushes his nose against Tony's neck. For a while they just lay like that, fucked out and sated and riding the high of getting to fuck and get fucked by tentacles because come on, it's cool, it's totally cool, and Bruce would be lying if he tries to say it wasn't. Tony rolls over after a bit, looks at him through narrowed eyes and cracks a smile.
"Not as good as the real thing," he announces, like that was half the purpose. Maybe it was. Bruce rolls his eyes. "Deadly serious."
"Is this what this was? An elaborate ploy to make me admit out loud that Tony Stark's dick is better than any replacement, any day?"
"JARVIS, you get that last bit?"
"I did, sir."
Bruce sighs. "I dislike you, Mr. Stark. And I resent your blasé attitude." Tony laughs, leaning forward and kissing him. They make out like prom dates for a while, before Bruce pulls back. "Two more sets?"
"You. Pep," Tony lists.
"That's a lot of tentacles."
Tony stretches, dropping his hand on Bruce's head and drawing his thumb over the lines in his forehead. Bruce curls like an animal into it, because he always relishes in the way Tony can touch him and nothing explodes except his neurons, one by one. "Well, you know me."
I do, Bruce thinks, and smiles, reaching between Tony's legs.
"You know, we can't know if the real thing is really better or not without back-to-back analysis."
Tony props himself up on his elbow, leaning down to ravage Bruce's mouth properly.
"I knew there was a reason I kept you around."