Archive of Our Own ^beta

Clint snatched up the box that had been left just outside his elevator on his floor with a wide, naughty schoolboy grin and a decided flush to his cheeks. He’d been anticipating this order for days, and couldn’t wait to put them to use. The plug inside him was already starting to feel just comfortable, and he needed more than that if he was ever going to achieve his heart’s desire.

Okay, and his libido’s desire, but they were one and the same.

He really couldn’t wait to show Hulk what this newest set of toys would do to him, how wide it would spread him, bit by bit, each one bigger than the next… Clint let himself shiver with excitement, goosebumps erupting when he thought about how Bruce would take the news. Probably with a facepalm and a look that said he really didn’t need the details. What Clint and Bruce’s alter ego got up to during their private time had nothing to do with him except for dealing with scheduling conflicts. Bruce had Betty, and Clint got the Hulk. Betty got Bruce’s sexy professor thing he had going, and Clint got the rawer, rougher passion of the strongest being on the planet.

And when Hulk got some private time with Clint on a schedule, he was much less likely to interrupt Bruce and Betty’s dates.

Clearly a win-win.

Though doing anything intimate with a nine foot tall rage monster took some invention on both of their parts. For a long time, Clint had enjoyed more frottage than he had in all his teen years, fucking against Hulk’s perfect swells of muscle, hanging on for dear life as Hulk used Clint’s whole body to get friction against the gorgeous length of his cock. That monster was a mountain Clint had been determined to climb since the first time he’d been with Hulk. However, Hulk might not have been a sparkling conversationalist, but he was way more intelligent than people gave him credit for.

Given Clint’s post-coital sex-drunk pillow talk, that had been all for the best.

“I want you,” Clint had been mumbling, pressing light, sloppy kisses into the broad expanse of Hulk’s chest. He was boneless with satisfaction after they’d rubbed off against each other, but Clint could sense a hint of frustration in Hulk’s carefully restrained strength. It was the same frustration they both shared; that they could be together, but their differences were making things difficult to do anything new. “Want you inside me,” he’d said in lazy, idle want.

Hulk had gone still underneath him, and then stroked down the length of Clint’s body. “Clint… done that before?”

“Yeah. Long time ago. I liked it.”

“Won’t work with Hulk. Don’t fit,” he said decisively, shifting his hips enough for Clint to feel the slightly softened monster penis under him. Hulk was so strong that he could manage that without a twinge, Clint almost cuddling the huge thing after sex in a way that made Hulk grin proudly.

“Why can’t I?” Clint said, head coming up, his stubborn side asserting itself with a vengeance. “All I have to do is to work up to it!”

Hulk shook his head and pressed a single finger to Clint’s backside gently. It felt even bigger than Clint knew it was, a thick, blunt pressure that made him catch his breath. “Finger won’t fit, penis won’t fit. Won’t hurt you.”

You really didn’t want to challenge Clint Barton. He always found ways of winning. “Get the lube.”

Hulk had been incredulous, but very slowly, for the rest of that night, Clint had panted and sweated, opening himself up with his own fingers until Hulk could, with infinite care, penetrate him with a finger that put most normal cocks to shame. Clint had come all over himself when Hulk had finally pushed in, and reveled not just in the thick, intense pressure, but the look on Hulk’s face when he saw Clint enjoying what was happening to himself. There was a speechless awe and joy at Clint’s pleasure, a protectiveness and fierce desire that Clint knew was mirrored in his own eyes.

By the time Hulk had withdrawn, he was hard again, and Clint wrapped his legs around his cock and squeezed as Hulk slid his member along the slick cleft of Clint’s ass, coming with a roar that had shook six floors.

Not long after that, Clint had gone shopping for butt plugs of unusual size. He was walking around with them all day now (well, mostly, it was awkward to go Avenging with a butt plug because you never knew when necessity was going to make you take a position that could make a grown man go insane with the pressure on his prostate), and nothing spiced up date night like being able to show Hulk the progress he’d made.

There was still a long (ha ha) way to go, but Clint was more than up to the challenge.

He ripped open the package cheerfully, and then stopped dead, blood draining from his face.

My God, he thought faintly.

--

Steve carefully opened his own package in the privacy of his bedroom, stomach roiling pleasantly at the anticipation of what lay inside. This was one of the times he blessed the modern world and the invention of online shopping, because it let him fill (he smirked inside at that) a need he’d discovered not long after he’d come out of the ice.

Some enterprising SHIELD agent had, as a joke, packed him several welcome baskets of gifts as a sort of introduction to the 21st century. One of them, probably slipped by the senior officer in charge, had been full of condoms, lube, sex toys, and a list of websites.

He really wanted to find who had done that and give them a thank-you card. Steve had never had much privacy to explore himself as fully as he’d wanted, and during the good days, when he was simply glad to be alive and wanted to affirm that in the most visceral way, that basket had come in handy. So had the websites. The serum had made it so Steve could take so much more, that he wanted, needed, to take more, to fill himself to the point of gasping and then riding that feeling to sweat-soaked exhaustion.

And for that gorgeous feeling, he needed toys that could both stand up to what he could dish out, and could fill him up at much as he wanted. He’d been thinking about what was coming in this box for days. The last of the tape came off and Steve opened the box and pushed aside the wrappings. And frowned.

That was not at all what he had ordered.

He fished inside the box for the invoice sheet, and his eyebrows rose in surprise.

Well, this was going to be awkward.

--

Clint’s phone rang six times before he could muster up the muscle coordination to answer it. He still couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing before him. And who it had been meant for.

“Clint? It’s Steve.”

Clint dropped the phone. Picked it up again. Hit the speaker function, and then laid it on the table because fuck if he could hang on to anything right now.

“Steve,” Clint repeated faintly, eyes still fixed on What Was In The Box.

“I think there was a mix-up in the mailroom. I’ll be right up with your package.”

Clint’s eyes grew huge and he turned to grab the phone. “You have my package?!”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to open it, but I thought it was mine. But it wasn’t.”

“No shit,” Clint said, knowing his voice sounded like he was possibly drunk.

“I’ll be right up.”

The line went dead, and Clint continued to stare at the box. Inside was the most insane dildo he’d ever seen in his life. It could have been used as a weapon of mass destruction. Entire forests’ worth of rubber trees had to have been harvested to make it. It was so ludicrously outsized it almost looked like a gag gift. It must have been the size of two fists and arms put together.

It was actually bigger than the Hulk’s schlong.

He hadn’t known they made them that big.

And Steve had ordered that. On his own. Not as a joke.

It made the rather substantial ten-plug set he had ordered look like toothpicks.

Clint kept looking, blood rushing to his face and his groin, imagining what Steve had been doing in his free time that he could handle a toy like that.

The elevator dinged, and Steve emerged, holding Clint’s box with a look comprised of curiosity and a bit of sheepishness.

“Ah, sorry about the mix-up,” Steve said, dropping Clint’s package on the table and gathering up his own, carefully not looking at either very closely and clearly not going to say anything.

“It’s okay,” Clint said, swallowing hard. Steve hesitated, and then started to walk away, ready to invoke an unspoken pact of silence between them. Screwing up his courage (to screw! his mind added gleefully), Clint blurted out, “Steve, I need lessons.”

Steve froze in his tracks. “What?” he asked.

“You know Hulk and I have a thing?”

“…Yes.”

“An intimate thing.”

A faint nod.

“I wanted to…” Clint nodded at the Dildo of Doom Steve was cradling in his arms. “I’m working my way up to his size.”

Steve looked at the package on the table, Clint’s package, with new understanding. “Oh, so… You have a ways to go, still.”

“Yeah. I know. We’re not going to leap into this but… Look, I can do this on my own, train myself, but I wouldn’t mind an expert’s advice.”

Steve colored slightly pink. “You want me to coach you?”

“For Hulk,” Clint said, a note of raw longing in his voice that made Steve stand straight up. If he’d known about Steve weeks ago, he could have been so much farther along…

“For Hulk,” Steve said, nodding decisively. He turned to go back to the elevator, and Clint stared at him blankly. “Well, you coming?”

Grinning in anticipation of a truly epic workout, Clint grabbed his latest toys and joined him.

--

Clint had sparred with Steve before, and knew Steve drove himself ruthlessly to be the best his perfect body could be.

The same clearly applied to sex.

Each of the Avenger’s floors had approximately the same floorplan, living room, bedrooms, bathrooms, kitchen, and so forth. But the spare room that Clint was using as an armory and Natasha had converted into a studio Steve had made into a sex playroom. There were toys lining the walls, and chairs and platforms and padded benches with slots for any of them arranged in neat precision around the room. None of the toys were less than intimidating; most were, at minimum, porn-star size.

One of the first things Steve did, after giving his new toy a rather thorough wash that made Clint wonder if Hulk might be up for shower sex at some point, was slot his new toy in a padded bench in the precise middle of the room. He nodded at it, looking very satisfied with himself, then turned back to Clint. If there was any hint of embarrassment in Steve’s face, Clint couldn’t find it.

Then again, they had just seen each other’s sex toys and Clint had gone into detail about wanting to have sex with his nine-foot tall supersized boyfriend, so embarrassment was probably off the table.

“Let’s see where you’re at,” he said, with an imperious gesture. Which, Clint gathered, meant to drop trou and bend over for inspection.

Well, your trainer really couldn’t determine how far to push you until he knew where you stood. Or in Clint’s case, gaped.

Embarrassment was so far off the table right now it might as well have been in another room. Or possibly another building.

Clint shoved off his pants and bent over a convenient bench, presenting his ass along with its current plug for Steve’s perusal. His stomach was roiling with a few conflicting emotions as Steve put his palm over the curve of his ass, his fingers gently tugging the plug to one side or another, taking its measure, seeing how far Clint would open up. A few flashes of arousal colored Clint’s cheeks as the pressure changed, became more intense as Steve tugged the toy around, and he suddenly wanted the next biggest plug he’d bought. The current one was far too comfortable.

Steve left off prodding at him and walked around to lean on the other side of the bench. “You’re doing pretty well so far,” he offered, eyebrows slightly furrowed. “If you just want to do it, I’d say we could get you open enough in under an hour, easily.” Steve paused and took in Clint’s hungry expression and his slow, dirty smile. “But that’s not what you’re after.”

If Clint had just wanted to feel Hulk in him, he could have worked himself open on a few different toys and Hulk’s fingers, then been able to take him later that afternoon. His plain ol’ human body was resilient enough for that, and there were plenty of other people who enjoyed the larger things in life, so it was far from impossible. But Clint wasn’t just chasing a cheap thrill. He didn’t just want to barely be able to fit Hulk inside him, trembling and sweating and Hulk not daring to move because Clint was at his limit. No doubt that they would have enjoyed that, but that wasn’t what Clint wanted for them. He wanted Hulk to be able to move without as much worry, for him to be able to participate instead of just hang on for dear life. And for that, it wasn’t just going to be a short-order stretch.

Clint shook his head, and Steve’s breath momentarily caught, his eyes going wide.

“You want to wreck yourself.”

“I want to be able to move with him,” Clint said, licking his lips and making Steve swallow.

“Yeah, okay, we can do that,” Steve said, his voice gone a little hoarse. He left Clint bent over the bench while he took a generous plug off the wall, washed it, lubed it generously, pulled Clint’s current plug out, and worked the other in with firm, gentle pressure. Clint did not squeak, though he thought his eyes were going to bulge out of his head. It wasn’t painful, but it was definitely… large. Much larger than he would have gone for next himself. It felt fucking fantastic.

“I thought,” Clint said, carefully breathing through his teeth so he wouldn’t disgrace himself and come, “we were going to do this just a little more slowly.” Not that he didn’t want to benefit from this as soon as possible, that was the whole point of asking Steve for tips, but he did want to be semi-functional while practicing!

“You are usually somewhere up out of the way during fights, while I have gotten way more up close and personal views of the Hulk’s penis than I really think I need. I assume you and Hulk want to do this sometime before the end of the year, so drawing on my unfortunately very accurate memory, you do want to go this fast.” Steve shook his head. “Of all people, I do not want to see the Hulk with blue balls.”

Clint grinned and reached back to touch the plug, pressing it a little further into himself with a gasp. “Don’t worry about that. We’ll manage in the meantime.”

Steve tried not to smile. “Be by tomorrow, and we’ll keep going.” He nodded at the next few toys along the wall with the kind of pride some people reserved for medals of honor.

Clint’s grin didn’t fade a bit as he pulled his pants back on and gingerly made his way out of the room.

--

“Clint hurt?”

No, Hulk was not unobservant, just usually very focused. And one of the things he focused on was Clint; specifically the hitch Clint had in his stride.

“Nope. Just working.”

Hulk tilted his head a bit and ran one massive hand down Clint’s back. With as much gentleness as he could muster, he slid the pants right off him. Manhandling Clint around with casual strength that never failed to be a turn-on, Hulk made an interrogative noise at the sight of the dark blue plug Clint was sporting today. It had been a week since he’d asked Steve for advice, and he was profoundly grateful that he had. Clint had always been ready to take and give back anything anyone could dish out, enjoying the challenge in a way that might have been a wee bit unhealthy if he hadn’t had the kind of job he did. Give him a goal, and he would always rise to the occasion. Making his and Hulk’s relationship work on all levels had always been the goal, but Steve had been setting smaller (or rather, bigger) ones every day for him to achieve.

No one had ever accused Clint Barton of being an underachiever.

“You’re gonna love this.” Clint worked the plug out of himself, enjoying Hulk’s expression when he saw the full extent of the object that had been inside his body.

“Clint love this.” The finger pressing up against him had been well-slicked, and Clint was able to lean back and take it deep in a single smooth press. Hulk’s eyes absolutely lit up, and he bared his teeth in a feral grin as he thrust deep, again and again, the way easy and open, until Clint’s eyes rolled back and spatters of pale come splattered on both of them.

“Good.” The word rumbled through Clint’s body from his position sprawled on Hulk’s chest, the thick finger inside him twitching slightly, rocking his whole frame.

“More,” Clint said, tilting his head back to catch Hulk’s eyes. “Another.”

Hulk’s eyes widened and Clint shook with the satisfied chuckle that rocked both of them together.

--

“Come on, Barton, last bit,” Steve said, sounding stern and uncompromising as a drill sergeant. Which made Clint actually snort with laughter and consciously relax himself, spreading his legs and letting the last few inches finally breach his body. He sat up very gingerly, almost feeling like if he moved too quickly he was going to accidentally going to find the dildo in his throat, it was so deep into him.

It wasn’t, of course, Steve was a very careful dildo drill instructor, but for a minute it felt like it. He sat and breathed for a little bit, reveling in the thick, long toy inside him, his entire body tingling and his cock hardening with the realization that soon, so very, very soon, he’d be able to be with Hulk the way they wanted to. Well, once he’d gotten past the first very intense stages of being scarcely able to move to avoid inappropriate boners and/or coming in his pants.

Steve had a nearly supernatural judgment of how much Clint could take and how much time he would need to get himself loose enough to take something bigger, and had help him push past what he thought were his limits in record time. Hulk had been so pleased, and so eager, that Bruce actually cornered Clint and asked him point blank what the hell the two of them were doing, because the Hulk was pushing for more and more time out.

Bruce had retreated two minutes later, scarlet as a tomato at Clint’s explanation, and said he’d try to work out something equitable.

“Nearly there. Once you’ve worked yourself fully open on that, I think you and Hulk shouldn’t have any problems with…”

“Compatibility?” Clint suggested, making Steve cough a little in amused agreement.

“Apparently you were already that, considering how happy you two seem.” He smiled. “I’m just glad to help out.”

“You don’t…?” Clint trailed off, eyes sliding to the Dildo of Doom, still proudly displayed in the center of the room. How could anyone who’d think of ordering that possibly be content with just the toy when there was the possibility of a real live cock of nearly that size? Only the fact that Steve hadn’t said a thing, hadn’t even hinted, that had held Clint silent about it until now.

Steve looked at him as if he were crazy. “You and Hulk are together,” he said slowly, as if this were the most obvious reason in the world. “And me… I like control.”

Control of his pleasure, absolute control, that was what he meant. It wasn’t Clint’s kink, but whatever worked for Steve. He certainly wasn’t going to complain about the results, not when his greatest desire was nearly within his grasp.

“I gotta ask though,” Clint said, standing up very gingerly and suppressing a gasp as things shifted inside him in a very delightful way. “How in the name of Nick Fury’s eyepatch do you mount that? I have to know.”

Clint nodded at the crowning centerpiece of Steve’s collection of toys, and Steve beamed proudly at the Behemoth.

“Care for a demo?” he asked.

“You just want an excuse to break it in,” Clint accused.

“What makes you think I haven’t?” Steve said, raising an eyebrow. “I just don’t advertise it.”

Clint actually laughed, choking himself off when the vibrations nearly undid him as his body tried to adjust to the toy inside him. “I guess I’m too used to Tony posting everything on YouTube.”

“YouTube couldn’t handle this,” Steve scoffed, and doffed his clothes without further ado. It was a little breathtaking to see Steve, so often portrayed as a virgin idol by the media, so completely comfortable in showing off what turned him on. It was something Clint shared with him, not just the somewhat understandable size kink, but not letting embarrassment get in the way of going after what they really wanted in life. There had been too many wasted opportunities for that.

Steve drizzled lube over his hands and ran them over the huge toy, and Clint had no trouble imagining what Hulk would be doing under the same treatment, arching carefully into Clint’s caresses until he couldn’t stand it anymore, then pressing Clint to him, using everything he had to bring them together in the only way they could. Until now.

Steve finally climbed atop the bench, the glistening dildo shining in the lights, looking almost living and entirely unreal. His thighs were slick with traces of the lube he’d used on himself earlier that day, and they highlighted the muscles of his thighs as Steve bent and held himself open. And slowly, slowly descended, his ass gaping and swallowing up inch after inch. Clint could feel his eyes getting wider and wider as Steve’s muscles stood out, holding him at the perfect angle to take more and more, working his hips in tiny circles to make it easier on himself. There was a crazy amount of dildo already inside Steve, and his cock was twitching, pre-come beading at the tip, looking ready to come if Steve so much as brushed a finger against it.

“Hrgn… Yeah…” Steve moaned very softly. His thighs spread even more, the muscles flexing in an extremely sexy way as he dropped further down on his knees, arching his back to accommodate the incredible length. His arms were flung out, hands dangling uselessly, as he hung, spitted, on the incredible toy. It didn’t even look like pleasure so much as torture, he was stretched so incredibly wide around the dildo’s base, until you looked at Steve’s cock. It was flushed, hard as nails, and bobbing with every movement Steve made. You wouldn’t think anyone could move with that much silicone in them, but Steve’s thighs began to work in earnest, pushing him up and dropping him again in fast, brutal rhythm. He chased his orgasm with single-minded determination, throwing his head back and shouting his completion as he bottomed out, cock spurting up onto his chest as he sagged against the unyielding embrace of the length inside him.

Clint had come to full mast watching the display, easily imagining himself in Steve’s place, the Hulk very warm underneath him, his impossible penis straining for contact with Clint’s body, contact that now Clint could enthusiastically provide.

“I’m gonna send you a gift basket of lube,” Clint said, once he could manage words, and Steve looked like he was in any position to interpret them.

“You’re welcome,” Steve said, breaking into an almost boyish grin. “Have fun.”

--

Clint nearly had to stand to position himself right, but the breathless anticipation on Hulk’s face was enough to wipe out every vestige of anxiety. He hovered over him for just a minute, hands kneading his own ass, holding himself open wide, his fingers slick with the same lube Hulk had applied to himself. He could feel himself gaping, feeling the air inside himself, and shivered pleasantly as he let himself down slowly. God, Hulk was thick, so beautifully, gorgeously, wonderfully thick, but even that pleasure was nearly eclipsed by the wide-eyed wonder on Hulk’s face as Clint slid lower and lower, hitching up again, then sliding deeper, caressing every inch of him with his body until Hulk tired of his teasing.

Huge hands settled heavily on Clint’s hips, pulling him down the last few inches, a distance Clint took without trouble. No straining, no calls to wait, just took it, his body primed and ready for it, slack and open and craving it, because they’d wanted this for months.

“Good,” Hulk rumbled, the word nearly broken in the middle as he shifted almost involuntarily, pushing up and making Clint tense as Hulk rubbed against all new places inside him. “Clint… good. Feel good…” One of Hulk’s hands moved up to brush against Clint’s face and down his neck, oddly light, and then he moved forward, making them both gasp at the change in angle, and kissed a little awkwardly, Hulk’s bigger mouth swallowing Clint’s up.

“Come on,” Clint said, his body singing with the hot, throbbing length inside him, and pushed up to drop down again. “We can do this now…” He lunged in for another kiss, and pushed up, keening when Hulk thrust to meet his downward drop. The impact jarred him, but fuck if it didn’t feel fantastic to have Hulk being able to let go a little under him. He moaned in counterpart to the Hulk’s growls of satisfaction as he met each shallow thrust with ease, going faster and faster as they found a rhythm where both of them could give in.

Clint’s head was arched back as he threw his whole body into the act, leaning back to grip Hulk’s massive thighs with his hands as he drove himself down. He was close, so close, but let himself ride the edge in exquisite torture, not wanting this to end more than he wanted to come. Then Hulk gently curled one slicked finger around his straining cock, giving him a hot, slick place to thrust into, and Clint was gone. His body snapped forward like an arrow, and Hulk caught him and held him deep as he wanted to go. He didn’t bother to muffle his yell as Hulk came inside him, drenching him, soaking him, filling him up, setting off another weak pulse of pleasure that mingled with the powerful throbbing shaking his entire body.

He wasn’t sure he was going to be able to talk as he came back down to earth, but Hulk was rumbling like a contented lion around him, huge fingers stroking down his back.

“Clint…” Hulk murmured, the soft word rolling like thunder through the bedroom, other words wrapped up inside them.

“I know. Me too,” Clint said, and leaned forward to kiss right over Hulk’s heart, hearing them easily. This was bigger than the two of them, almost too big to understand, but they were used to that. Between them, they had more than enough to go around.