[ The more Superboy hears about this plan the less he likes it, since it seems to boil down to Robin allowing a bunch of sexually deviant adult men to treat him like a toy without any resistance, which would give him away instantly. Superboy was to sit and watch for a signal before acting, even if Robin seemed to be in danger or in pain.
It seems like something Aqualad ought to be here for, as team leader and also the most level-headed out of all of them, but Robin had insisted that they couldn't contact the rest of the team. Superboy bit down on his protests and jerked his head every time Robin seemed to want an acknowledgment. He'd done his homework on the location and the potential threats, it seemed like the worst thing that could be thrown at them would be ordinary thugs with guns. Superboy could handle guns. If he had to he could take Robin and simply go through the nearest wall.
Despite his misgivings there seem to be plenty of other guys just like him hanging around the club, only there to look tough and stand at someone else's shoulder. No one addresses him directly, and even the fact the he's in a t shirt rather than a black suit isn't enough to raise any eyebrows given how half the other patrons are dressed. There's skin everywhere, men and women in expensive clothes or scraps of fabric or things that seem like costumes. Some of them aren't old enough to be rightly called men and women, like Robin, and it doesn't take any acting ability at all to glare at the people staring hungrily in Robin's wake. He stands closer to the other boy without prompting and follows in his shadow when he takes the lead, navigating the club like an old hand.
He can already see what Robin was talking about that he'll have to force himself not to react to. There are soft (and not so soft) cries coming from some of the corners, people wielding crops and whips and other restraints. Leashes, collars, blindfolds. Nothing that could hold him, of course, but they make him irritable anyway. The idea that someone would willingly subject themselves to being collared, being controlled puts his back up. It reminds him of Cadmus. ]
no subject
It seems like something Aqualad ought to be here for, as team leader and also the most level-headed out of all of them, but Robin had insisted that they couldn't contact the rest of the team. Superboy bit down on his protests and jerked his head every time Robin seemed to want an acknowledgment. He'd done his homework on the location and the potential threats, it seemed like the worst thing that could be thrown at them would be ordinary thugs with guns. Superboy could handle guns. If he had to he could take Robin and simply go through the nearest wall.
Despite his misgivings there seem to be plenty of other guys just like him hanging around the club, only there to look tough and stand at someone else's shoulder. No one addresses him directly, and even the fact the he's in a t shirt rather than a black suit isn't enough to raise any eyebrows given how half the other patrons are dressed. There's skin everywhere, men and women in expensive clothes or scraps of fabric or things that seem like costumes. Some of them aren't old enough to be rightly called men and women, like Robin, and it doesn't take any acting ability at all to glare at the people staring hungrily in Robin's wake. He stands closer to the other boy without prompting and follows in his shadow when he takes the lead, navigating the club like an old hand.
He can already see what Robin was talking about that he'll have to force himself not to react to. There are soft (and not so soft) cries coming from some of the corners, people wielding crops and whips and other restraints. Leashes, collars, blindfolds. Nothing that could hold him, of course, but they make him irritable anyway. The idea that someone would willingly subject themselves to being collared, being controlled puts his back up. It reminds him of Cadmus. ]