Fic: Super (thanks for asking) 2/3

[oroburos69]

Title: Super (thanks for asking ) 2/3
Beta: lady_of_scarlet  and iesika 
Rating FRT
Warnings/Features: Tentacles! :D And Fluffiness...lots of fluffiness
Disclaimer: Characters and setting are the property of DC comics.
Summary: Superboy regains his powers in the form of tentacles. Robin finds himself distracted and distressingly hormonal.
Fandom: Young Justice, with lots of appearances by the Gotham group. Takes place directly after The Sins of Youth” arc
A/N: Written for kirax2  for winning my offer at the gulf aid charity auction. Only seven months late! :D Also, major thanks to the_protagonist for all her help in getting this story off the ground.

Chapter 1

The closest bathroom was located in the first guest room off the main hall. Bart was on his knees, using the toilet seat as a make-shift pillow and taking slow deep breaths like his life depended on it. When he saw Robin, he let out a miserable moan that ended in a sigh.

“You alright, Bart?” Robin asked, kneeling beside him. He ran his hand down Bart’s back, mostly because he saw someone do it on TV once. It felt a little like petting a cat or something, but Bart seemed to like it, relaxing slightly and pushing back against Robin’s hand. “I’ve got Pepto-Bismol. It should make you feel better.”

Bart yawned. “I’ve never been sick before. It’s really gross,” he confided.

Robin shook the bottle and broke the safety seal. “I don’t think anyone likes it.” He poured exactly two tablespoons (30 mL) into the little cup and handed it to Bart. “Cassie brought back movies, and I think we’re having a sleepover or something. But if you want to go home I can call Max Mercury for you, as soon as I find his number.”

“What movies?”

“I think we’re starting with Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon.”

“I want to stay. Can we have popcorn?” Bart sipped tentatively at the thick pink medicine. He looked thoughtful for a second, and then drank the rest down. “That tastes fantastic, can I have more?” Bart licked the inside of the plastic cup, chasing tiny pink bubbles around its bottom.

“...In a while?” Robin replied, reading the fine print. It actually said Bart could have more if he really wanted to, but Robin figured that it would be better to wait. “You feeling better?”

“Yeah.” Bart gripped the toilet seat for a long second and then leaned against the tub. The reinforced fabric of his costume rasped against Robin’s gloves. He gave Robin the plastic cup back. “Can you help me up?” Bart asked pitifully.

Robin set the cup on the edge of the sink and offered Bart his hands. Bart pulled himself up slowly, and how weird was it that Bart did anything slowly? Robin wedged himself under Bart’s arm, wrapping his hand around Bart’s waist to steady him. “Ready?”

Bart managed to wedge his head into the curve of Robin’s neck, which meant that he felt Bart’s nod more than he saw it. Robin shoved the Pepto-Bismol into his utility belt, and stepped backward, guiding Bart toward the living room.

“This really bites,” Bart muttered into Robin’s neck. His breath sort of wuffled against Robin’s neck. It tickled. Bart’s arms tensed up and he rocked forward suddenly, leaning against Robin.

“Shit,” Robin swore, looking around for a bucket.

“M’good,” Bart slurred, “I tripped.”

“It won’t last forever,” Robin said, much relieved by the lack of puke, smoothing down Bart’s hair. It clung to his hand, soft and smooth between his fingers.

“Promise?” Bart asked, bumping into the living room door before Robin could straighten him out.

“Promise,” Robin replied, sitting on the edge of the sofa bed. Bart followed him, pushing Robin down against the mattress and using him as a pillow. Robin edged closer to the centre, into Kon’s spot, so that Bart wouldn’t fall off the edge.

One of the piled blankets at the foot of the bed rose into the air and draped itself across both of them, a phantom force tucking the edges under their legs like an overly enthusiastic nanny. Robin raised an eyebrow and looked around for Secret.

Kon crawled over the back of the couch, tumbling onto the bed beside them. “Hey Bart, how’re you feeling?”

Bart mumbled something indistinct against Robin’s collarbone. His breath was hot and wet against Robin’s skin. Wuffly. Robin blushed, faintly.

“Okay... Robin, how’s Bart feeling?” Kon asked, absent-mindedly tugging the blanket up around Bart’s shoulders. He ran a careless hand over Bart’s hair, smoothing down the fly-away strands.

“He’s feeling sick,” Robin replied, watching Kon suspiciously. Suzie wasn’t in the room. He could hear her making popcorn in the kitchen. “Hey Kon—”

Cassie set a tray of drinks on the coffee table. “I brought ginger ale for Bart,” she said cheerfully. She offered the plastic cup with the Flash’s logo on it to Bart, and then to Robin when Bart didn’t respond. “If he wants it?”

“Can you grab the end table and put it over here?” Robin asked, holding onto the condensation-slicked cup with both hands to prevent it from slipping.

Cassie hooked her foot around the table and dragged it close enough that Robin could put Bart’s cup on it

“Can I have a straw?” Bart asked hopefully, lifting his head just enough to speak. “I don’t like pop without a straw.”

Cassie rolled her eyes and headed back to the kitchen. “Yeah, yeah. Kon, come help us with the snacks,” she ordered.

“What?”

Robin busied himself with rubbing Bart’s back and looking particularly noble. Bart whimpered pitifully in what was probably pretend pain, but Robin stroked Bart’s hair just in case (soft!). Cassie smiled at them, her eyes just a little too narrow for sincerity, but amused enough that—

“I said, ‘Kon, get off your lazy ass and help us with the snacks.’ Suzie and I aren’t here to serve you.” Cassie was more entertained than angry, which was good. Last week—well, Kon probably learned his lesson.

“Fine,” Kon sighed, getting off the couch with the air of a man heading to execution. Totally learned his lesson.

Bart’s hair ruffled itself, tousled by an invisible hand. There was the faintest line of light trailing away, but it disappeared before Robin could trace it to its source.

Robin hummed thoughtfully.

---

The orchestral score faded away, and the screen went black. Robin shifted, trying to regain feeling in his arm. Bart sighed and snuggled closer.

“Want to watch another movie?” Kon asked, yawning behind his hand. He stretched out, cracking his back and arching off the sheets like a...like...Robin suddenly wished that he had his camera handy.

Cassie was asleep, hugging a pillow and curled up in the corner of the sofa bed, one arm flung out into space over the back of the sofa. Suzie was a formless cloud, hovering just above their legs like a hazy blanket.

“The only one left is American Psycho,” Robin said. He poked Bart gently, testing how soundly asleep he was. Bart glared at him blearily. He looked a lot better, or at the very least less sick. “Can you move off my arm?” he requested.

Bart shook his head. “‘M’comfy. And warm.” He closed his eyes and settled more firmly on Robin’s chest, his jaw digging into Robin’s shoulder at the perfect angle to cut off circulation in his arm.

“My arm’s asleep,” Robin complained. Bart didn’t respond. Robin wrapped his free arm around Bart’s waist and pulled, dragging Bart into the crack between him and Kon.

Bart groaned. Robin and Kon both froze. Bart glared indiscriminately and tugged the blankets up to his neck. Robin and Kon sighed in relief, barf avoided.

“So. You hungry?” Kon asked after a few seconds of watching Bart wiggle into place, managing to elbow both of them multiple times in the process. Bart was bony.

“Do we have food?” Robin stretched his arm, shaking out the pins and needles.

The shadows in the corners rolled forward, and Robin jolted off the couch, scrambling for his utility belt. Kon jumped over the back, putting himself between the shadow and couch.

Secret formed herself from the blanketing beige smoke, roaring through Kon, taking the shape of something with way too many arms and far too many heads.

“Yes, you have food.”

Robin squeaked, then coughed to cover it. “—Batman?”

Secret fell back, dissipating into an embarrassed haze. “Sorry!” she whispered, her voice coming from everywhere at once.

“Um.” Kon stepped back, running into the couch and stopping awkwardly.

Cassie peeked out from behind the couch, blinking. “Where did you come from?”

Bart levered himself over the top of the couch and waved. “Hi,” he yawned and laid back down.

“Nightwing indicated that you had no food,” Batman scowled affectionately. Robin relaxed, settling back on the couch. “That is unacceptable.” He held up a large box wrapped in dark grey insulation. There was a large black bat logo on the front.

Robin hesitated before asking, tentatively, “You brought us pizza?”

“Yes.” Batman held up a second bag. “Also, vegetables with dip.” His scowl turned threatening. “You will eat your vegetables before you eat the pizza.”

“Okay.” Robin was vaguely aware of the rest of Young Justice staring at him. “Thank you.”

“You are welcome.” Batman dropped both bags onto the coffee table, ignoring how Kon cringed as he walked by. “I expect you back by tomorrow night. If Impulse doesn’t get better, call.” He directed his gaze toward Bart, apparently breaking him down to atomic components with his eyes. His scowl was concerned. “You have given him plenty of water?”

“Yes.” Robin rolled his eyes. You’d think Batman hadn’t forced him (well, not exactly forced) into EMT training under a false name.

Batman gave a noncommittal grunt. “If you need anything, call.” The door creaked shut behind him.

The stunned silence was broken by Kon gasping for air. “How did he even get in?”

Robin shrugged and unzipped the pizza bag. A type-written note fell out: Vegetables first.

Robin sighed and opened the other bag. “Probably through a window or something.”

“Wow,” Bart said slowly, his voice a bit fuzzy but otherwise alert. “Was he actually worried about me?”

“Duh,” Robin said. He peeled the lid off the chilled vegetables and grabbed a piece of broccoli, dunking it in the container labeled ranch. “Why wouldn’t he be?”

“Because the Flash really wasn’t.” Bart crawled up beside Robin and picked out a piece of celery, eating it plain.

Robin felt a tiny bit of guilt at that and wrapped his arm around Bart in a hug. Bart twisted and collapsed into Robin’s lap, rolling onto his back. “Bart?” Robin asked uncertainly.

Bart snatched another piece of celery, giving Robin his sad face. Robin rubbed Bart’s belly before he could stop himself. But, hey, no more sad face.

Cassie leaned across Bart’s legs and grabbed a handful of carrots. “Is Batman your dad, Rob?”

Robin snorted. “Um, no.”

“Weird. He acts like he’s your dad.” Cassie frowned thoughtfully. “I mean, I’ve never had a dad, but Batman just acted like one of the dads on TV.”

“Yeah,” Kon agreed.

“Like Bill Cosby,” Suzie added.

Robin blinked, imagining Bruce in an acrylic-blend striped sweater. It did not compute. “Well, I mean, he can be really nice. And he’s seriously a good guy. Like, sometimes? When no one is escaped from Arkham? He goes and delivers food to people who can’t get out.”

The other four teens looked dubious.

“Like, really?” Cassie said.

“Yeah, really.” Robin decided that he’d eaten enough vegetables and opened the insulated bag. There were four plain pizza boxes inside. When he pulled them out, he realized that they had bats stenciled on their tops.

“Cool,” Kon said, and the other three nodded their agreement. The pizza box lid flipped up, pushed by an invisible force, but no one seemed to notice except Robin.

“Hey, my favorite kind!”

“Mine, too!”

“I like pineapple.”

---

“Hey, Kon,” Robin said slowly. The thing glittered, sharp lines gleaming in the morning sun.

Kon stirred, yawning and batting at the gleaming…tentacle. Yes, it was definitely a tentacle. It swayed back, undulating away from Kon’s hand.

“What’s that?” Bart asked, propping himself up on his elbow to get a better view. “It’s sparkly. Pretty.” He vibrated with suppressed energy, obviously recovered from whatever the Flash had done. He wasn’t nearly as pale as he’d been last night, either, Robin noted with approval.

Cassie stroked the edge of the narrow tube. It shivered and darted away. “I think it’s like, a tentacle or something,” she said. Another tentacle rose from under the blankets, straightening out slowly, faint cracking noises accompanying its movements. Some kind of internal crystalline structure refracted the morning sunlight, sending rainbows dancing across the walls.

“Is it Kon’s?” Suzie asked. She brushed her hand along the outer shell of the tentacle. It cast rainbows through her smoke, and she giggled. “It’s so pretty!”

Robin smiled and poked Kon. “Yes. It’s very pretty.” He reached for his utility belt, determined to record Kon’s new power for science, and so he could show Nightwing later.

Kon yawned and stretched out. His hand went through Suzie’s chest. She squeaked and pulled away in a cloud of surprised smoke. “Wha’d ja want?” Kon groaned, more tentacles twisting out of the blankets, wrapping around each other and creaking gently as they pulled tight. It sounded like the tentacle equivalent of cracking knuckles. Sunlight sparkled through them, refracting wildly.

“Whoa…” Bart whispered, pointing. The back wall was covered in irregular rainbows, dancing gently across the white paint.

The tentacles spread, and Kon stretched out, taking up about 90% of the couch-bed. He looked like a glittering anemone, swaying gently in an invisible current.

Kon’s eyes slowly drifted open. He blinked once, then noticed the tentacles. “Oh my God!” he squawked, scrambling away and pressing up against the back of the couch.

His tentacles flailed in panic, knocking Robin off the edge of the bed. He managed to snap a few pictures of Kon’s terrified face before he hit the ground, so Robin counted it as a net win.

“Oh my God. Oh my God!”

Robin cracked up, unable to contain the hilarity. “Kon, they’re yours.”

Cassie laughed so hard that she started wheezing and Suzie lost control over her form, spilling into a giggling mist.

Kon looked down. “They’re…coming out of my stomach? Why are they coming out of my stomach?” He calmed down quickly once he realized that the tentacles weren’t attacking him.

Robin sat up, wiping at his eyes so he could see, and sure enough, the twitching nest of tentacles was rooted over Kon’s undeniably perfect abs. They weren’t forming out of his flesh or anything. Instead it looked like the sparkling rainbow tentacles—Robin snorted—were wrapped around Kon’s waist and up his chest. “Where else would they sprout from?” Robin asked, and winced because he just thought of several places that he’d like to unthink. Or maybe think about more. It was a tough call.

Kon waggled his eyebrows, fully recovered from the shock of having grown tentacles overnight. “You know what they say about tentacles?”

“That they’re found on many members of the cephalopod family?” Suzie asked eagerly, swirling back into her favorite shape.

“Uh. No,” Kon replied, looking at her and then at Bart.

Robin glared at him, trying to convey the no sex jokes rule through body language alone.

“That they’re very flexible?” Bart asked, flipping through a book. The pages blurred and rattled then Bart tossed it to the side. “Oh! Is it that they feature heavily in Japanese—”

“No!” Kon and Robin yelled in unison.

“—cuisine?” Bart finished. “Really? I thought for sure that was it.”

“I mean, yes. That’s it exactly. Tentacles taste great,” Kon babbled in relief.

Robin muffled his laughter with his hand.

Cassie slapped Kon across the back of his head. “You are such a twit sometimes.”

“You want us to eat your tentacles?” Suzie sounded disturbed. She eyed the waving appendages warily.

“Dear god no,” Kon replied, “I don’t even know what I meant.”

“Nothing important, I’m sure,” Robin said, then changed the topic. “So? Can you control them?”

“Just think of the possibilities,” Cassie said, totally straight-faced, and Robin had to bite down on the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing again.

Kon blushed and closed his eyes. The tentacles slowly stopped flailing, and relaxed across the couch, like Kon had thirty or forty arms to stretch out instead of just the regular two. Which sort of sucked, because Kon was a couch hog even in the best of times.

Robin reached out carefully, and touched the tip of one. He needed to test if Kon could feel them. That was the only reason he was touching the oddly soft tentacles. It felt like skin, but skin over rock. It was like touching Superman.

The tentacle twitched under his fingers and Kon frowned, lines creasing his forehead. Cassie jerked back guiltily and Robin realized that she had reached out to feel as well. Robin waited a second, then stroked the tentacle lightly.

“Please tell me someone is touching my tentacles,” Kon begged, opening his eyes and looking at the ceiling.

“Yep, Robin is!” Bart cheered, like Kon just won an award or something.

“Cassie was, too,” Suzie chimed in eagerly. “You could feel them?”

“Yes. Definite yes.” Kon opened his mouth and closed it, then tried again. “It feels like you’re touching my back. Or my shoulder.” He glanced over at Robin. “It’s really sensitive.”

Robin carefully suppressed the ideas. “So. Um. Your powers are back!” he said, with more fake exuberance than he usually used in a month, because he really needed Kon to not question what he was thinking right then.

“Back in the form of tentacles,” Kon said thoughtfully, luckily distracted. One tentacle twirled, the crystalline structures inside grinding against each other. The glittering appendage lengthened, then swelled, thick and bulbous with a thin base.

Cassie blushed bright red. Robin’s teeth clicked as he hastily closed his mouth. Kon winked at them and Robin considered faking a call from Batman to get out of there. It was ten in the morning on a Saturday, but crime never slept, right?

“Wow, those are going to be really useful,” Bart exclaimed. “Like, if you need to grab something on the other side of the room, or change light bulbs.”

Kon smiled brightly and a tentacle wavered slowly, rising from the couch and reaching toward Bart. The rest of the tentacles on that side twitched, straining in the same direction.

“Whoa!” Robin said, suddenly alarmed. “What are you doing with that tentacle?”

Kon looked at him with ill-contained glee and ruffled Bart’s hair with the glittery tentacle. “Noogies!”

The rest of the tentacles snapped out, working in teams of three or four to mess up everyone’s hair while Kon giggled like a total twit.

“Stop it!” Robin said, grasping one of the flailing appendages. It was so smooth. He squeezed it experimentally, finding that it had a certain degree of give. Less like rock than very firm rubber, Robin decided.

Kon cleared his throat.

“We have… work to do,” Robin said, deeply distracted by the things he was definitely not thinking. It took him a moment to realize that everyone was looking at him, waiting for some kind of clarification.

Robin panicked. It’s the only way he could explain what came out of his mouth next. “Kon needs to practice with his tentacles.”

Kon beamed, showing off each and every one of his broad white teeth. They were perfect, too. “Practice what?”

“Lifting stuff?” Robin said, secretly thinking very different thoughts.

“Lift me! Lift me!” Bart volunteered. The air hummed as he fidgeted, his movements creating sound waves.

The tentacles reached out, coiling around Bart’s arms and legs, and lifted him gently off the ground. Kon laughed giddily. “I am so back!”

“How’s your fine motor control?” Robin cut him off, doing his best not to stare. Of course, this meant that he gazed intently at Cassie’s chest for about thirty seconds before shaking himself and looking at Kon’s oddly phallic rainbow tentacles again. Robin sighed.

It was going to be a long day.

Next