Two Roaring Handfuls

tisfan:

Title: Two Roaring Handfuls (and a bit more)
Collaborator: @tisfan
Link: AO3
Square Filled: O1 – Size Queen
Ship: Tony Stark/Bucky Barnes
Rating: E
Major Tags: Size Queen, big dick, anal sex, oral sex, porn with feelings
Summary: Everyone seems to know that Tony Stark has a huge dick (even if
the angle is bad in that one video.) Bucky would like some independent
verification of this fact.
Word Count: 5,352
Created for @mcukinkbingo

A/n – Story title comes from the lyrics in an OLD, bawdy song called Nine Inch will Please a Lady

---

“Seriously, Stark,”
Clint said, staring at the content, no longer knocking things over, giant
goddamn bear that Tony’d corralled with several train cars. He’d brought in a
dump truck loaded with local honey and then boxed the critter in. The bear
didn’t seem currently inclined to go anywhere, and Strange was already on site
trying to figure out of it was a bear that had been magicked, or maybe
teleported. “We all already know you got like, massive big dick energy, you
don’t have to hose down the deck with testosterone.”

Bucky peeled his eyes
off Tony’s backside to blink in confusion. “We do? I mean, yeah, of course we
do,” he said. “Wait, how do you know?”

Tony had popped back his
faceplate, revealing tangled hair plastered over his forehead, a cut just under
one eye that had dribbled blood down his cheek, and a grin as wide as a dinner
plate. “Everybody who wants to can google it,” Tony said, dropping lightly onto
the ground. “And to be fair, the angle’s bad in that video.”

“Figures,” Clint said,
clutching at his heart in mock dismay. “I always knew ten inches was too much
to hope for.”

Tony tipped his eyes up,
not quite exasperated, but like there was something he wasn’t saying. “I’m no
Jonah Falcon,” he said, “but I do okay.”

“His is completely
non-verified,” Tash added.

“It’s on record as being
thirteen and a half inches,” Clint protested.

“Why are we talking
about this?” Cap wondered. “Can we not just, once, maybe, do our jobs and not
end up in a metaphorical or literal conversation about dick size.”

Bucky stared at Tony, as
if he could spontaneously develop x-ray vision. “No, no, I don’t think we can,
Cap.”

Tony smirked, thrusting
his hip out to stand with a certain amount of sensual energy. “I’m always up
for some independent verification.”

“No puns,” Steve sighed.
He threw his hands up, and then strode off to talk to Strange, who, as a
medical professional, tended to discuss misplaced entrails and exsanguination
and bodily fluids, rather than getting naked. Which, Bucky supposed, was an
improvement for Steve, who still blushed like a choir boy.

“All the puns,”
Tony said, pouting. “You are no fun, Capsicle.”

“He’s just scared of
your Subway footlong,” Clint said.

“Huh?” Bucky whirled
around. “I thought you said it was ten, not twelve.”

“Well, Subway’s footlong
isn’t twelve inches either,” Clint pointed out.

“Hey, if we’re talking
about sausages, I have got the meat,” Tony said.

“We’re not talking about
this,” Steve yelled over his shoulder.

Which did, at least for
the moment, put an end to it. At least in the outloud, the in public, and the
speculative ranges. What Bucky did in his own time, including trying to trace
an outline while Tony was in the underflight suit, that was Bucky’s own
business, wasn’t it?

It took Bucky all of
three days resisting until he was in a cafe, with a burner phone, connected incognito
to the internet and trying to google the video that Clint had mentioned.

It was a bad
angle.

And blurry.

(more below the cut)

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