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There were worse ways to wake up, Tim supposed, than getting felt up by your unconscious boyfriend’s grabby tentacles.
Alarming? Sure, if you weren’t used to it. Perhaps a bit peculiar, but not altogether unpleasant. They didn’t appear often, but Tim had experienced them enough times not to be freaked out when he was drawn from his slumber by the feeling of several prehensile limbs creeping around his body.
Jason’s tentacles had just about scared the shit out of him the first time they’d appeared, curling around his biceps and thighs, restricting any non-tentacle-sanctioned movement. Fortunately, they’d only been interested in preventing him from leaving bed. For several more hours. Several hours of tentacle-enforced cuddling in which Tim did a lot of internal panicking and Jason remained unresponsive to any attempts at rousing him.
The tentacles only came out when Jason was virtually comatose, Tim figured. Only when he was so bone-tired, so run-ragged, so inescapably exhausted that he would collapse into bed for the better part of a day. And it was only when he was dead to the world that his mind submitted to the wills of his body.
Now, after so many wake up calls, Tim surrendered to the inclinations of his boyfriend’s extra appendages without complaint.
One of the heavier ones rested its weight on his shoulder, the tip of it - about as broad and blunt as the tip of his pinky finger - curling up behind his ear. The smaller ones wriggled against the top of his ass, trapped between their bodies where Jason was adhered to his back.
Tim always had to piece the image of it together in his mind, an entrancing picture of Jason in his alien beauty constructed out of the half glances he could get while tangled up. They always retreated and vanished into the ether as soon as their owner began to wake, so by the time Tim was free, they were gone.
But he knew the shape of them like he knew his own body.
They made a tilted loop around Jason’s abdomen, the largest ones as thick as biceps - well, Tim’s biceps, not Jason’s - sprouting from near his shoulder blades, decreasing in size as they wrapped around his sides and ended at the V of his hips. The medium sized ones had suckers that loved to leave trails of polka-dot hickeys all over him. The flesh was slippery-smooth gliding across his skin, a silky feeling that he always expected to find having left some residue behind, but it never did. They were an almost-black plum color that faded into a soft mauve then lightened further into a peachy-flesh tone at the suckers and tips.
Tim's fingers itched for a camera, for some way to document the marvel of it all. He wanted to see them woven around Jason's body like ropes, lewd and unearthly.
He would've thought he'd hallucinated them if not for the fuzzy phone camera photos obtained after Tim woke up caught like a fish in a net, just barely able to reach his cell on the side table. That, and Jason's sheepish explanation when Tim held a knife to his throat demanding to know where his real boyfriend was and what shapeshifter had taken his place.
Jason's heavy snores ruffled his hair.
Tentacles or no, he was definitely the person Tim had fallen in love with.
A soft sigh escaped him as a warm appendage snuck under the hem of his shirt - one more arm to keep him close. Another slithered up his thigh, pushing petulantly at the fabric of his boxers. It was soon joined by two smaller tentacles tracing along the elastic band and searching for a way inside. They loved to burrow into the warmest, darkest nooks of his body. Insistent little buggers.
He reached down and shoved off his underwear. For the tentacles. To be nice.
His spine trembled with shivers when they were quick to explore the new territory. One wrapped around his wrist - not impeding his movement, just holding - and he wasn’t sure whether it had been there before or if it was a new tentacle joining the party. It was still unclear how many exactly there were. Eight probably. Or ten. Something like that. The more that got involved, the harder it got to keep track.
A tentacle inched up his rapidly filling cock and a gasp tumbled from his throat. There were a million little touches all vying for his attention - the rolling tentacle growing close to his chest, a finger-like touch tracing the seam of his ballsack, pressure on his ass and hips and- god, there was another one grabbing his ankle and pulling it back, spreading him open.
The tentacle on his chest skated upwards before settling back down, one sucker attaching itself directly to his nipple. He quickly pried it off with his thumbnail, knowing it would just suck and suck and suck until his nipple became unbearably puffy and sensitive. The sucker fluttered around his thumb tip before settling just below the peak of his pec.
One of the appendages closest to Jason’s pelvis squirmed its way over his ass and into the cleft of it. It felt filthy and strange and wet despite knowing it wasn’t really secreting any fluids. His toes curled.
He reached back, wedging his hand into the pocket between their bodies to feel out the extremity yearning for the inside of his body.
Each tentacle was a little bit different, but that one was perhaps the most distinctive. The end of it was less of a taper and more resembled the head of an uncircumcised penis. The flesh was more malleable, the skin looser. Tim wiggled the tip of his finger into the opening and it spasmed so hard he lost his grip.
The tentacle tip by his ear laved from the crest of the shell to the flesh of his earlobe, all too similar to a tongue, and Tim forgot to care about the deviations of each individual limb. It was impossible to keep his thoughts straight with the feeling of a dozen hands mapping him out.
They didn’t seek out their own pleasure, not that Tim could tell. It seemed that all that mattered to them was touching him, keeping him, stimulating tiny sensitive spots that no human being had ever bothered to give so much attention to. Between his ribs, the knob of his ankle bone, the crease where shaft met sac, pressing-rubbing-covering and all of it at once until the physical experience smothered any kind of intelligent analysis. Before he knew what was happening, Tim was panting and squirming in the ethereal embrace of it.
Tim wouldn’t go so far as to say the tentacles were a better lover than Jason, but he certainly enjoyed his special time with them.
A long stroke traveled across the delicate back of his knee and he didn’t bother trying to contain his reflexive twitch and squeak. Nothing short of a stab wound could provoke Jason’s waking.
With nothing to do but savor it, Tim settled into the ministrations of his rare companions. They liked it when he was loose, when they could traverse his body unimpeded.
The collection of organic, semi-magical appendages wasn’t quite cognizant enough to understand the word no, but they understood that getting bit, scratched, or squeezed too hard hurt, and that any action soliciting those behaviors from Tim was to be avoided. His mouth could be filled, but his throat should not. His nipples could be touched, but only gently. His cock was fair game, but not after an orgasm when it became oversensitive. It had taken some trial and error, but their relationship was symbiotic.
Sometimes the tentacles were lazy and rested on Tim like a weighted blanket. Other times, they manipulated his body, but with no apparent goal in mind. This time, the swirling mass was congregating between his legs, intent on wringing pleasure out of him like a dishrag.
One tentacle curled under his balls, lifting them so another could smother them from the top, undulating in a slow, mind-melting massage. The blunt-tipped one prodded at his perineum until it pressed hard enough to slip up and rub his hole. A bigger extremity rolled over his throbbing dick before resting possessively over his navel. The end of it tried to dig into his belly button before realizing it had nowhere to go in there.
It got him hot like nothing else just how much they wanted to be inside him. Their urgency was so like Jason’s, how Tim would hold out as long as he could just to hear him beg, plead to bury his cock in a warm, wet hole, whimper just the tip, anything, please, I need to feel you, please, Tim, please-
The tentacles didn’t have big blue eyes that looked pretty filled with tears though, so he didn’t care to deny them the way he would his boyfriend.
He didn’t put up any kind of a fight as several of the smaller ones converged around his entrance, squirming against the rim. He tried to tip his hips up to give them more room to maneuver, but the one across his lower abdomen had no interest in letting him move. The pressure right above his pelvis made his gut clench.
One by one, each of the tentacles attempted to wiggle its way into his body, and when one succeeded in sinking a centimeter deep the others became frantic, each wanting room for itself. Even as the first pushed farther into him, his rim fluttering helplessly around the velvet flesh, two more used the opportunity to pry him open.
Tim panted. The tentacle on his navel had gotten comfortable, but it continued to move in lazy curls and stretches, teasing his cockhead just enough to have it leaking like a faucet. A lewd white streak had rubbed onto dark, glossy skin.
Often Tim fantasized what it would be like if Jason had control over his extra limbs while awake. How he would use them. If he’d focus everything he had on one area until Tim was shouting and clawing at him, or if he’d spread them out, give each limb its own designated area and let them work until Tim’s eyes rolled back in his head and he came so hard he passed out.
Tim didn’t trust the tentacles on their own to explore certain things, but he would be lying if he said he hadn’t fucked his fist to the vision of Jason working a tapered tip into his slit, then deeper and deeper into his cock. That would be hot.
In the midst of his daydreaming, all three tentacles at his hole had managed to squeeze themselves inside, but they prevented each other from getting more than a couple inches in. Tim contemplated reaching back to yank one out so the others could wriggled up against his prostate until he was drooling, but he figured they’d work it out eventually. Tim was a patient person.
Except they didn’t work it out. Several minutes into what Tim was sure was the universe’s freakiest rimjob none of them had done much penetrating, much to his chagrin. Instead, it was oddly similar to when Jason would hook his thumbs in Tim’s asshole and spread him open to fuck his tongue in there. Bit by bit, his entrance was stretched open.
He couldn’t figure out why until the star of the show returned. Every tendril was phallic, but none so much as the blunt-tipped one. The looser flesh around its crown pressed a sloppy kiss to his opening. That was all the warning he got before the other three slid almost all the way out and he got full then fuller then fuller.
Tim moaned long and loud as he was stuffed with alien cock. It burrowed impossibly deep into his guts, squirming and undulating to work his tender guts in a way human dicks just couldn’t. The tendril over his navel suddenly felt like a hand trying to find a bulge through the barrier of his abdominals. If his body weren’t such a mess of miscellaneous limbs, he thought there might actually be a bulge.
The length was thick inside him, but more malleable than organic tissue or silicon. He clenched down and it had the same give as a squishy jelly dildo. Tim couldn’t help but theorize on differing physiology between the tentacles; was this one constructed of unique tissue or did it just have a different physical structure? Could any of the tentacles undergo a change like that? Did each tentacle serve a different purpose?
Then his prostate was getting ground into a fine paste and Tim wasn’t theorizing anymore. He didn’t do much of anything for a while except experience nirvana.
The early beginnings of a slow-approaching orgasm were starting to throb in the base of his cock when the tentacles started acting weird. Weird being a relative term, of course, because nothing about their situation was remotely normal. But Tim prided himself on having sharp senses and keen skills of observation, even when getting his brains fucked out.
And the tentacles were being weird.
The undulating and squirming became shuddering and pulsing. The length in his ass retreated halfway and began twisting to and fro. Each prehensile peculiarity fretted as though something was about to happen.
Something happened.
For a second, Tim thought the jelly-dildo-tentacle was growing. Pressure built around his rim, but not from the inside. It felt like a round object, too big to shove inside him without some finessing, was being held against his hole. The pressure grew, then shrank, then grew again like something else was trying to get inside him.
That was enough for alarm bells to start ringing in his head. It occurred to him - not for the first time - that Jason’s whole tentacle situation was one giant question mark, and nobody knew much of anything about how they functioned. Tim had been willing to set that fact aside on account of the fact that he was so horny it made him stupid, but even he had to pump the brakes sometimes.
Digging through the tangled mass between his legs was kind of like shoving his hand into a pile of cooked spaghetti. The slippery surface made it difficult to get a proper grip on anything, but a lifetime of parkouring around the northeastern seaboard in icy winters had prepared him well.
Without a line of sight, Tim relied on touch to find the problem. He reached for his hole where the strange bulge was still trying to push into him. Right up against his rim, he found the offending tentacle. And the very odd, very firm, very large protrusion… inside of it.
It was like a solid rubber ball had materialized inside the fleshy tube of tentacle-penis. Tim managed to wrap his thumb and forefinger around the tentacle between his entrance and the bulge, and pinched it shut, effectively preventing the UFO (Unidentified Frisky Object) from entering his colon.
A number of other tentacles seemed to take issue with this and began to prod insistently at his hand and wrist. Much to the dismay of the limbs, Tim got a firm enough grip around the penis-tentacle and its adjoining bulge to start wrenching the thing out of his body. The tendrils protested by whipping around and adhering to anything they could reach to restrict his movements, but Tim had no qualms about digging his nails in to show them who was boss.
After a couple minutes of frustrated grunting and a number of threats towards the uncomprehending tentacles, the offender slid free with a filthy squelch that had his cock twitching despite the circumstances.
His restraints were in such anarchy over the turn of events that they failed to prevent Tim from using his Olympic grade flexibility to twist at the waist and finally get a look at the cause of all the commotion.
It looked exactly how it felt. The length in his hand wasn’t all that different from the others, except for the strange tip, looser skin, and vaguely-reminiscent-of-werewolf-porn knot in the middle.
It continued to twist and pulsate, half wrapping around his hand. Whatever was inside pushed against the barrier of his thumb and forefinger, and with it no longer in his own body Tim eased his grip to let it move.
Inch by inch, the bulge worked its way closer and closer to the tip, stretching the muscle around it. Tim kept just enough of a hold on it to keep it in his sight-line.
And just when the ball was ready to enter the world, the tip of the tentacle unfurled like a peony in bloom and opened to release it. Tim observed with the clinical fascination of a robot witnessing human childbirth. The glossy crown peaked out first, then the lips strained around the widest part, then - ploop!
On reflex, Tim’s free hand darted out and caught the thing in his palm. He held it up closer to his face. And it was then, with the odd little sphere three inches from his nose, that he realized what exactly the tentacles had been trying to stuff him with.
It was an egg.
Jason was not terribly interested in waking up. He slept the most luxurious kind of sleep, the sort where consciousness would wave kindly in the distance and he would acknowledge its existence before happily turning away. He floated in the dark on the gentle rocking of a thorough rest.
Still, the waking world could not be denied forever, and after consciousness waved so many times, he decided to hop on the path towards it.
Most of his body was uncovered, but the warmth cradled near his core more than made up for it. He took a deep breath and caught the faint, familiar remnants of Tim’s hair products. Without jostling his cuddle buddy too much, he stretched his legs out, every joint from hip to toe cracking in an orgasmic release of tension.
It had been too long since Jason had gotten such a good night’s sleep.
He heard a huff of breath and cracked an eye open. He expected to find his boyfriend’s lovely face. He did not expect that lovely face to be fully alert and focused on his with an unsettling intensity. At god knew what time, with Jason barely awake, Tim was staring at him like he was diffusing a bomb, like he was doing brain surgery through telepathy alone, like there was something he needed and Jason was supposed to figure out what it was immediately.
“Morning?” he tried, throat gummy with sleep. He swallowed then yawned, jaw popping.
“Good morning,” Tim replied in a tone just as intense and enigmatic as his expression. “Do you remember anything from last night?”
“Last night?” Jason searched the recesses of his memory. “Not anything after getting my clothes off.”
“Okay,” Tim said. He hadn’t blinked yet. “So your tentacles showed up and tried to impregnate me.”
For a brief, blissful moment, Jason considered the possibility that he was dreaming. “You-...what?”
“I mean, I can’t be sure what the intentions were, and I haven’t had a chance to do any testing since they only disappeared a few minutes ago, but based on repeated attempts to implant some sort of foreign, organic objects into my large intestine, I assume the ultimate motivation was reproduction.”
Jason…did not know what to do with that. “...What?” he tried again.
Tim huffed a breath out his nose and twisted away to grab something off the side table. When he turned back to Jason, a small plum sat in his palm. No, not a plum. It was- was-
“What the fuck is this, Jason?” Tim said in a perfectly pleasant voice that promised hellfire.
“I don’t like this game.” Despite his growing trepidation, Jason picked up the ball. His nose wrinkled at the tacky texture. The outer layer was almost translucent, glowing faintly in the light, while the center was dark and opaque. It had some give, but was dense and firm like a rubber ball.
“It was slimier earlier. You know, when your tentacles were trying to lay a bunch of these in me.”
Jason grimaced, wanting to put the egg-thing down, but not knowing where to put it. What if it stained the sheets? “Wait, a bunch?”
Tim grabbed something else off his side table: the water glass he always kept nearby. Except, instead of water, it was full to the brim with more of the weird orbs. Like giant boba.
“I don’t have a womb, Jason. Where are these supposed to go? They could’ve caused a bowel obstruction,” Tim said, as though Jason had intentionally orchestrated an alien mating ritual.
“I didn’t know the tentacles could do that!” he defended. He barely ever even saw them, let alone understood them.
“How would I explain this to a doctor, Jason?” Tim went on. “Who exactly should I call in the event of biologically incompatible egg laying? What if they dissolved and fucked up the pH of my colon? What if they hatched? I’m too young to be a mom, Jason! I can’t have your freaky alien ass babies!”
Jason was truly at a loss for what to say to that. None of his teenage what to do if gay? internet searches had mentioned accidental attempts to breed your future boyfriend. Well, they had, but not like this.
“....Sorry?”
Tim’s eyes narrowed. Jason hoped it occurred to him that all of this was both beyond his control and also a lot to deal with before coffee.
“Is this some kind of manifestation of a deep seated impregnation fetish you’ve been suppressing?”
Jason’s cheeks went hot. “What? How would- I don’t know! The tentacles did this, not me!”
Tim continued to squint at him for an excruciating, long minutes. Jason tried - and failed - not to fidget.
Just when he was tempted to jump out the window and disappear forever, his beautiful, deranged boyfriend let out a sigh, took the egg from his hand, dropped it in the glass, and set them aside. He belly-flopped straight onto his front, forcing the air from Jason’s lungs. Nonetheless, his arms came up to wrap around Tim.
“You owe me an orgasm,” Tim said, muffled by Jason’s pecs. “I didn’t get to finish because I had to avoid getting tentacle-pregnant.”
“That’s fair.” He rubbed a hand along the length of Tim’s spine. “We can go over the details of what happened last night over breakfast.”
“I’m not having ass-babies, Jason.”
“Yes, darling.”
“And you have to wash the sheets today.” Tim shuddered. “It was so slimy.”
“Alright, darling.”
“You’re lucky you’re cute. And that I’m into weird shit.”
Jason buried his grin in the dark mop of Tim’s hair. “That I am, darling.”