Fic: Super (thanks for asking) 3/3

[oroburos69]

Title: Super (thanks for asking ) 3/3
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

Chapter 2

“Hey Nightwing,” Robin said, landing beside him on the rooftop. “Guess what?” He couldn’t keep the glee from his voice if he tried, so he didn’t bother trying.

Nightwing lowered his binoculars. “…What?” he asked warily, leaning away from Robin, obviously confused by his good mood.

Robin beamed at him, and pulled his camera from his belt. “Superboy grew tentacles!” He held the camera up, showing Nightwing his favorite picture, the one of Kon screaming in fear as he batted ineffectually at his tentacles. He’d already made backup copies on his hard drive, and e-mailed copies to everyone.

Nightwing studied the photo for a second, then slapped Robin on the back, nearly knocking him into the dark alley beneath them. “Congratulations! None of my teammates ever sprouted tentacles, you lucky bastard.” Nightwing paused, frowning thoughtfully. “I mean, except for Beast Boy. And that was pretty weird.”

It took Robin a moment. A long, faintly horrified moment. “You… Octopus? Wait—I mean, not—I haven’t…I mean, I wouldn’t! It’s not like that!”

“Aw, man, I’m sorry, R.” Nightwing looked genuinely contrite, which was weird. “I thought you’d—”

“We haven’t,” Robin said sadly. He shook himself. “And we shouldn’t. We’re a team. It would be wrong.”

“Teen Titans never had that policy,” Nightwing mused. “It worked out okay for us.”

Robin decided to let that statement stand, no matter how incredibly wrong it was. “Yeah. I guess it doesn’t matter. Wonder Girl was about two steps from jumping him. If Impulse and Secret hadn’t been there, I swear she would have done him on the couch.” Robin realized a few moments after he finished speaking that his voice was less amused than it was jealous. Drat.

Nightwing slung an arm around Robin’s shoulders and scanned through the pictures on his camera. “That’s the great thing about tentacles, Robin. You could have jumped right in—why do you have a folder with three thousand photos of Superboy on your camera?”

“There aren’t three thousand on there.”

“Two thousand nine hundred and eighty four, then. Wait, my folder only has five hundred?” Nightwing pouted. “Why only five hundred? Don’t you love me anymore?”

“Wait.” Robin grabbed the camera back and opened a second folder. “I have more. It’s just that I usually get pictures of you with other people. Groupshots/Nightwing has another thousand.”

“And how many does Superboy have in your groupshots folder?”

“…Some.” Robin didn’t mention that these are only the costumed photos. The other ones are on his computer.

“Face it kid, you want a piece of that,” Nightwing said, nodding sagely.

Robin rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically. “What, you think I’m stupid or something? I know that. It’s just a bad idea. It’ll upset the team dynamics, and it might force me to give Impulse some form of sex ed. It’s not worth it.”

“Robin!” Nightwing gasped in shock. “I can’t believe you’d say that! These tentacles appeared out of nowhere. What if they disappear? Huh? How would you feel then?”

“The same as I feel right now, I imagine, since I’m never going to have tentacle sex with Superboy.” Robin wondered why he’d ever thought that telling Nightwing about the tentacles was a good idea.

“Good to hear,” Oracle’s voice buzzed in his ear. Robin caught himself before he fell off the edge, but it was a close thing.

“But my comm. isn’t on!” he protested, before glaring at Nightwing with sudden realization. “Yours was? And you didn’t tell me?”

Nightwing smiled, a little sheepishly. “We were talking when you came. I guess I forgot to turn it off in all the excitement over the tentacles.”

“You suck,” Robin said, grabbing the binoculars from where Nightwing had left them.

Nightwing stretched out on the narrow ledge. “Forgive me?”

Robin nodded distractedly. “Hold that pose?” He grabbed his camera and snapped a photo.

“You good?”

“Maybe. You might need to cover for me with Batman at an undecided future date for full forgiveness, though.” Robin sat down and looked through the binoculars, focusing on the lit window across the street.

“Send me a copy of that picture?” Barbara asked, waving at him through the glass. The pom-poms trimming the edge of her bathrobe swayed gently. “And send Superboy over, if you don’t want him.”

“Yes and no. You’ll break him.”

“That boy could use an older woman’s touch,” Barbara said.

“Cradle robber,” Robin told her, smiling in spite of himself. “You were watching her?” he asked Nightwing, handing the binoculars back to him.

“Yeah, we’re doing some role play. I’m the devastatingly sexy burglar who breaks in to her apartment after having fallen in love with her while casing the joint. She’s the hard-ass cop who beats me up and handcuffs me to the bathroom vanity, holding me captive and using me for sex,” Nightwing said, bringing the binoculars back up.

“So you’re…”

“Casing the joint. I still have to get through her security.”

“You never will, Nightwing. You may as well give up. Batman can’t get through my security.” Barbara didn’t sound happy with him. “If you come to the door and knock, I’ll make you hot chocolate,” she offered.

“No way. I’m going to be handcuffed to your vanity and used for sex whether you like it or not,” Nightwing replied.

“Can I have hot chocolate?” Robin asked. “I’m cold. And hungry. Are there little marshmallows? I love those.”

“I do have little marshmallows. All you have to do is knock on my door.” She paused for a second. “Nightwing, you know I don’t have any handcuffs, right?”

“Don’t worry, I brought my own,” Nightwing replied. “Seriously though, I think I see a gap. I’ll be in before you know it.”

“That’s what you said yesterday,” Barbara said. Their communicators buzzed, signaling that she had disconnected.

“Well, I’m going to get hot chocolate.” Robin squinted at Barbara’s apartment. “Have you tried her roof?”

“She has it wired to hell and back. Go forth and drink chocolate, traitor. Disconnect a security camera if she turns her back.” Nightwing shifted restlessly, tapping his fingers against the binoculars. “And honestly, Robin, think about taking advantage of those tentacles. Too much self-restraint isn’t good for you.”

---

It started to rain when Robin landed on the roof of the Gotham Museum, fine dust-like rain drops that made him damp rather than wet. The air vents steamed warm air, and Robin huddled against them to warm his hands. The hot chocolate had been delicious, but temporary, and he was cold again. He really needed to get the winter costumes out of storage.

He spied Catwoman in the distance, sprawled across the back of a gargoyle, her breath fogging out in little white clouds. Robin couldn’t remember whose side she was on today, so he waved a hello. She waved back, so she was probably on Batman’s side.

Robin decided to guard the air vents of the Gotham Museum anyway, at least until he could feel his fingers.

Catwoman twisted and crawled into the window below the gargoyle. Robin furrowed his brow, trying to remember what building hers was. He tapped his comm to activate it. “B? Catwoman just went into the fourth floor of the building three up from the Gotham Museum.”

“Anderson Accountants?”

“No, the one with the gargoyles.”

“It’s a daycare,” Batman growled.

Robin considered that, turning around to warm his back. “Should I go in after her?”

“Not unless you want to,” Catwoman murmured, sliding out of the dark.

Robin jumped, “Damn it—”

“Language!” Batman scolded, Catwoman a second behind him.

“Um, yeah. She’s here,” Robin said, feeling a little silly. His comm. buzzed, Batman turning his end off. “Hi Catwoman.”

“Hello, Robin.” She edged closer to the air vent. Robin narrowed his eyes. “I got that e-mail that’s going around—the one you sent out this morning?”

Robin briefly wondered how she received it. He’d only sent the pictures to… Alright, almost everyone. But not Catwoman, he didn’t have her e-mail. “…Yeah?”

“So.” Catwoman leaned a little closer, the faint scent of leather rising through the cool air. Robin breathed it in, watching her out of the corner of his eye. A droplet of water slid down her sleek cat suit, trailing lovingly over her curves before disappearing into a thin seam in the leather. “Is Superboy still based out of Hawaii?”

He felt a twinge of disappointment. “Um. No,” Robin said, pulling his gloves back on. “He’s in, like, Albuquerque,” he lied.

“Oh.” Catwoman stretched, and the smell of leather got stronger, undercut by a hint of spice. “Give him this, next time you see him?” She pressed a piece of paper in his hand and a kiss to his cheek. Her lips were soft and a little sticky from her lipstick.

When Robin unfroze, she was long gone. He couldn’t seem to stop smiling, though. He’s got her phone number. And Kon’s like, his best friend and totally gullible. He could—

“Rooooooooooobin.”

Robin twitched and rubbed the lipstick off his cheek.

The lost, lonely cry came echoing out of the mist. “Rooooooooooooooooobin.” It was closer now, pitch wavering, the Doppler Effect in action.

“Impulse?” he called, tucking Catwoman’s phone number into his utility belt. Robin gave the pocket a fond pat and zipped it closed.

“Robin!” Impluse cried out happily. “I’ve been looking for you!”

“I noticed,” Robin said. “What’s up?” He wondered if Batman knew that Impulse was in Gotham. Robin was sort of supposed to keep him out until ‘Impulse is no longer…impulsive,’ as Batman had said, staring at the remnants of West Gotham Mall.

“Do you want to hang out?” Impulse asked eagerly. The air around him thrummed with a constant low level hum.

Robin’s communicator turned on. “Get him out of the city,” Batman ordered.

Robin shrugged. “Sure. Want to go to Metropolis and get cheese steak sandwiches?”

“Okay!”

“If Superman asks, I knew nothing about your plans,” Batman said flatly. “Try to avoid large scale destruction.”

“Want to call Superboy and ask if he’ll come?” Robin asked absently, touching the pocket with Catwoman’s number again. It’s been a while since they’d gone for Metropolis cheese steak sandwiches.

“He’s busy with Wonder Girl.” Impulse wrinkled his nose. “They were wrestling with his tentacles.”

Robin went cold with jealousy. Of whom, he didn’t really know, but holy crap, jealous. “Is that so?” he fumbled for a way to ask for details without actually asking.

“Un-huh.” Impulse nodded enthusiastically. “And Superboy accidentally ripped her shirt off because he doesn’t have full control of his tentacles and Wonder Girl made him take his off because it was only fair, and then Superboy’s tentacles turned all weird-colored, and he hugged her with them, and I think Wonder Girl is going to teach him Greek wrestling, what do you think?”

Robin processed that and his stomach dropped to his knees. He didn’t know why. It’s not like he could sleep with either of them. He was committed to Young Justice not being like the orgy that Teen Titans had been. Very committed. Batman had given him a talk. “Huh, I don’t know. But you know what?”

“What what what?” Impulse twitched.

“I think Metropolis is way funner than Greek wrestling. We should go get them and bring them along,” Robin decided, “and we should bring Secret, too.”

“Yay!”

Robin smiled maliciously. If he couldn’t have tentacles, no one got tentacles. Or boobies. Superboy wasn’t getting any damn boobies before Robin did. “Let’s go see them!” he encouraged Impulse.

He blinked and suddenly Cassie and Kon were grappling nakedly in front of him. A significant section of his brain shut down, murmuring boobies, and his hand twitched for his camera.

“Hi!” Impulse shouted, apparently not noticing anything out of the ordinary.

Cassie screamed and jumped away from Kon. The tentacles looked dark red, and glittered like garnets as they wrapped lovingly around her arms. And her legs. And her fingers, shoulders, back, waist, hair, toes—the portion of Robin’s brain that had been committing the curves of Cassie’s breasts to memory froze and moaned tentacles jealously.

“We’re going to Metropolis for cheese steak sandwiches and you should come!” Impulse said merrily, not noticing that Cassie was topless. Robin wondered if Bart would notice if she was naked. Or if Kon was naked. Robin’s concentration took another nosedive as he thought about nakedness.

“So you should get dressed,” Robin said, feeling like he should add to the conversation somehow. “So we can, like, eat.”

Kon blinked in stunned confusion.

Cassie squeaked and covered her chest, very belatedly. “We were—um—I mean—oh my god.” She turned around and snatched her bra off the ground. It was blue with little flowers. Cute.

Robin pretended that he was looking away to give her privacy, but stared from the corner of his eye while silently blessing the white lenses in his mask.

“What?” Kon asked in confusion, finally catching up to the rest of the group once Cassie’s boobs were covered up.

“We’re going out to eat!” Robin said cheerfully. “…So you should get dressed,” he said again.

Cassie yanked her shirt over her head and Kon’s face crumpled up like he was going to cry. No boobies for you! Robin thought gleefully. He wondered if being pleased by that was wrong, then decided that it couldn’t be. He was preventing both pre-marital oogling and teen sex. Large groups of Americans agreed with that sort of thing. Batman would approve, especially if Robin told him about the Catwoman thing.

Kon glared at Robin, his sky-blue eyes shimmering with repressed wrath (or possibly tears). Robin was briefly distracted by the way absurdly thick eyelashes framed Kon’s eyes. Like a picture frame. His hand inched toward his camera.

“Did Cassie teach you lots about Greek wrestling?” Bart asked Kon innocently. Cassie made a muffled noise of complete embarrassment.

“Not enough,” Kon muttered bitterly, fishing his t-shirt out from behind the couch with a vaguely orange tentacle. The deep red had faded toward yellow diamonds, and Robin wondered what other colors he could make Kon’s tentacles turn if he tried.

“Oh.” Bart tilted his head thoughtfully. “I guess that means you should practice more.”

Kon grinned and glanced at Cassie. She flushed, but smirked back at him. “Yeah. He’s not very good at it yet,” she said. “He’s going to need a lot of practice.”

Kon gasped and clutched a hand to his chest. His still bare chest.

Robin frowned and scuffed his foot on the floor. He’s going to need to put more effort into making sure that Kon doesn’t get any sex.

“So, we taking the bike?” Kon asked casually. He tugged his t-shirt over his chest, sliding thin cotton over the chiseled perfection—Robin gave his hormones a stern talking to.

Bart gasped in sudden realization. “I have to find Suzie!” He disappeared.

“What the hell Robin?” Cassie yelled as soon as Bart left.

Robin looked away in studied disinterest. “What?” he said.

“You cockblock,” Kon hissed and his eyes were a flinty blue. Like...oceans. Stormy oceans. Cassie smacked him on the shoulder, but didn’t stop glaring at Robin.

“Dude. I had no idea,” Robin lied.

Cassie snorted. “Sure you didn’t.”

“Seriously,” Robin said. He smiled sincerely. “I just couldn’t think of an explanation for Bart that didn’t involve the birds and bees talk that I refuse to give him.”

Cassie sighed. “Robin, you are such a dick.” Light blue tentacles were playing with her hair, Robin noticed with irritation.

“I thought we were bros, man,” Kon said.

“We are!” Robin insisted, a bit more adamantly than he strictly should have. If he couldn’t have an orgy, then he damn well wanted bro status.

“That was very un-bro-like,” Kon told him seriously. “I may have to remove you from my bro-list.”

Robin only wanted to prevent his friends from having sex. Was that so wrong? “Hey, you’d probably regret it in the morning,” he pointed out. He had to dodge Cassie’s punch, and the piercing whistle of air flowing by his ear indicated that she hadn’t held back much.

“Screw you, Robin,” Cassie growled.

“..What?” Robin asked in genuine confusion. “You’d probably regret it, too. Especially once Wonder Woman or Superman found out.”

Cassie and Kon stopped glaring at Robin for a second, and gave each other assessing glances.

“I think it would be worth it,” Cassie said, “I mean, what if the tentacles go away?”

Robin winced at the re-occurring Dick-logic. “Well, do you really want Young Justice to end up like Teen Titans?”

Kon grinned suddenly. “Dude, you’re just jealous.”

“Am not,” Robin denied defensively.

Cassie’s eyes sparkled with malice. “Oh?”

“…Yeah,” Robin said. He wondered where the hell Bart was. They had cheese steaks to get. Seriously, where was that kid?

“Somebody’s lying!” Kon sang cheerfully. He threw his arm around Robin’s shoulder, and wrapped a few tentacles around his waist. “Really man, I know it’s hard to resist this much hotness—especially when tentacles are on the line, but dude, being a total cockblock is not the way to my...” He frowned thoughtfully. “...bed?” he eventually guessed.

Robin opened his mouth to deny like a politician, but was cut off before he could even begin.

“Excuse me? Your hotness?” Cassie asked, “Did you not see the way he stared at my boobs?”

Robin shuffled back. Apparently, tentacles had aided Cassie in getting over her shyness.

“Did he stare at you before tentacles?” Kon shot back. “Because, hello! Who wouldn’t want that?” His tentacles sparkled irately, turning a faintly greenish hue.

“Yay! Cheese steak sandwiches!” Bart interrupted at the perfect time, dragging Suzie along beside him. “Let’s go!”

“Yes! Let’s go!” Robin exclaimed with relief. “We need sandwiches! Lots and lots! Chop chop!”

Everyone was staring at him now, but it was better than the alternative of being Cassie and Kon’s sex toy. He was the Team Leader. It would be wrong. A small—medium—okay, a large part of him questioned that opinion, but Robin remained resolute. It helped that Kon had put his shirt on, though.

---

Half-way through his sandwich, Robin realized a sudden truth. This epiphany was minor. It wasn’t even earth-shattering. He chewed thoughtfully.

Superboy was posing for a group shot, cherry red tentacles managing to wrap around every last one of the twenty members of the Swedish basketball team, as Wonder Girl watched with interest, not jealousy.

Robin tossed another french fry in the air, watching Impulse leap up and nab it with his teeth. Secret giggled merrily, playing with the gratings in the sidewalk, surfing on the air that the subway churned up.

Robin contemplated the truth some more, taking another bite out of his sandwich.

“Hey Rob!” Superboy called, waving him over. “The ladies want a picture with all of us!”

The Swedish basketball team cooed at him.

Robin shrugged and wandered over. Secret and Wonder Girl were already there. Impulse appeared in the middle, right next to Superboy.

The camera flashed and Robin made his decision. He tossed his camera to the food cart owner. “I’d like a picture, too,” he said. Robin had very few pictures of himself but he felt like recording the moment for posterity.

The food cart owner gave them a big thumbs-up, and shouted something in Greek. Young Justice beamed at the camera, surrounded by twenty blonde women, all of whom were way way taller than them. Robin grinned as the camera went off. Either a Swedish woman or a tentacle had goosed him, and he was okay with that.

They weren’t going to be sixteen forever, after all. And one day... One day they might be Teen Titans. Or less-Young Justice. Robin smacked his brain around and told it to stop ruining the epiphany. Either way, one day it wouldn’t be weird and potentially abusive to think that Bart was adorable, or that Cassie was gorgeous, or that Kon was...amazing, or that Suzie was cuter than a dozen pictures of kittens.

Robin nodded firmly. One day, he would have his cakes and eat them, too. He was groped again and Robin amended his statement. One day soon.

The End