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Superboy isn’t really surprised that most of the Teen Titans are a bit leery around him, on account of how he beat the crap out of them not so long ago. What’s more surprising is that Red Robin doesn’t seem to be. His invitation to Superboy to introduce him to the real world is a bit stilted, but seems genuine, so Superboy takes him up on it.
The first thing that pops into his head is “What does ice cream really taste like?” His virtual reality was complete as to sight and sound but the programmers had kind of neglected the other senses; his first experience with taste was when Cassie half-shoved food in his mouth on Mystery Island. And ice cream is supposed to be even better than...actually, he doesn’t know what Cassie shoved in his mouth, and maybe he doesn’t want to. He’s got a whole checklist of things he wants to experience, but ice cream is about the top of his list.
Red Robin looks confused and then amused. “Ice cream. That’s the one thing you want? Okay then.”
Ice cream turns out to be ten times better than Superboy could have ever imagined. In between slow, savory licks of his cone, he explains to Red about the virtual reality thing.
Red shakes his head. “I just figured they, uh, kept you in a cage or something when they weren’t using you.”
Superboy feels his expression darken a little - not at Red, at his entire existence. “A gilded cage.”
“Hey.” Red reaches over and pats his hand. “Look around. You know you’re free to leave, right? But I’d like you to stay. I think you need...” he hesitates a little. “Teammates, at least. Maybe friends?”
Superboy nods. “Thank you.”
“So I guess a movie wouldn’t be the most interesting thing to do with you,” Red says after a moment. “How about I show you Central Park?”
Tim has, somehow, ended up with Superboy - Kon, he’s using now - trailing around him like a lost puppy, even now that they’ve gotten back to HQ. He is kind of cute, in a way. Now that he’s not trying to kill them. He’s also, as Tim is learning, very clueless about a lot of things. He has no practical experience in life, and there seem to be gaps in his knowledge, things NOWHERE forgot to program, didn’t bother, or didn’t want Kon to know.
Like sex. Kon’s virtual reality didn’t seem to be programmed for anything beyond kissing (maybe the thought that their pet might have needs made them uncomfortable?) which has led to Tim needing to sort of brush him off regarding explaining the couple reaching second base at the park. Because he really didn’t sign on for explaining the birds and the bees to Kon.
Except maybe he should have rethought that, because there’s a lull in the conversation and then suddenly Tim finds himself flat on his back on the bed with his shirt up around his armpits, and Kon staring very closely at his scars. He probably has no idea that he’s being inappropriate. Tim hopes.
“Your scars are very strange,” Kon informs him, tracing a knotted scar that trails from Tim’s left hipbone across his stomach. And now Tim can’t quite suppress a shiver, and that has Kon even more interested. “What are you...are you ...ticklish?” He says the word like it’s another one of those things he knows exists but has no real concept of what it means. He traces the scar again, with his thumb this time, and goosebumps break out under the touch, which just makes Kon lean in closer, warm breath on his skin.
“Kon, stop,” Tim says, nudging at him. It’s not that he’s exactly opposed to the idea of sex with Kon, who is extremely attractive and managing to be seductive without knowing he’s doing it. Or, for that matter, even knowing what seduction is. It’s just that he kind of feels like there are consent issues when Kon doesn’t know what sex is. Also, Kon doesn’t even know his real name, although he supposes he’s as much Red Robin these days as he is Tim.
Kon’s brow wrinkles a little. “Why? You said you were going to help me learn about the real world, and scars and bodies are real things. And when NOWHERE let me out, the only touching I got to do was punching. I want to touch things. People. You.” He’s not actually stopping yet, and Tim’s going to have to work on things like boundaries and listening and doing what Tim says, at least under certain circumstances.
“Okay, you know how people in virtual reality wore clothes? It’s not usually considered appropriate to remove people’s clothes.”
“Usually?” Kon questions, and Tim’s cursing himself for the equivocation. “Oh!” Kon’s face brightens and Tim finds himself being flipped over with Kon sitting across his thighs. His shirt’s totally gone now, and Tim kind of hates that TTK thing because it’s sneaky. “I’ll give you a massage, that’s okay, right? People like massages.” His hands are already kneading Tim’s shoulders, thankfully very gently since Tim knows how strong they are. He doesn’t really know what he’s doing, and the end result is that it’s not a massage but it still feels really, really good.
Tim groans a little, burying his face in the pillow, as Kon’s hands trail down his back. At least he’s on his stomach, because if he wasn’t, Kon might try to figure out why Tim’s got an erection and that would really take this from awkward to kill-me-now.
“You know, I think people are supposed to be naked for massages,” Kon says, tugging at the waistband to Tim’s jeans. Tim is really starting to wonder if this is an act, but he likes to think he’s pretty good at reading people and there’s no guile in Kon’s eyes.
“Kon,” he finally manages, and decides to give clear, precise directions this time. “Stop touching me for the moment, please. Go sit in that chair.” He indicates his desk chair.
Fifteen minutes later, Kon is embarrassed. No, mortified - and he’s not sure who he’s most mad at - NOWHERE, himself, or the whole world. Or maybe Red for not stopping him sooner. An annoying little voice points out that he’d tried, Kon’s just not very good at listening. He tells the voice to shut up, but does decide that he’s not mad at Tim.
His face is burning, and check blushing off his list. Although it’s one thing he would have passed on experiencing for himself. “I’ll just, uh, go,” he says. “And I promise not to take anyone else’s clothes off in the future, or touch them.”
Red catches his wrist as he’s turning to leave and tugs. “Wait.” He leans in and kisses Kon on the mouth. Kon’s too busy feeling fireworks sizzle from his mouth down his spine to check another mental box.
“I don’t mind if you touch me, if you want,” Red is saying, quietly. “I just want to make sure the 'if you want' part is a true value. So, um, that was a lot of information. Just...take a week to think about it and then we’ll talk.” Red gives him another quick peck and then pushes him out the door before Kon can really react.
Kon touches his hand to his mouth where his lips are still tingling. He does have a lot to think about.