The sun poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the sprawling condo perched on the edge of Metropolis, bathing the bedroom in a golden haze. The city skyline shimmered in the distance, a silent witness to the tangled chaos of sheets and limbs sprawled across the king-sized bed. Ben Brown, an 18-year-old nerd-turned-superhuman, stirred awake, his mind still fuzzy from the wild night before. His hands, as if guided by some primal instinct, rested possessively on the curves of the two women flanking him—Power Girl, Kara, on his left, and SuperGirl, Kara Zor-El, on his right. Their toned, powerful bodies pressed against him, a reminder of the surreal turn his life had taken since that experimental blue solution laced with Superman DNA had rewritten his scrawny existence.
Before he could fully process the warmth of their skin or the faint scent of lavender and steel that clung to them, the bedroom door flew open with a dramatic bang. A crackle of electric energy filled the air as Livewire—Leslie—stormed in, her platinum hair practically buzzing with impatience. Her leather jacket hugged her frame like a second skin, and her piercing blue eyes zeroed in on the trio with a mix of exasperation and amusement.
“Alright, lovebirds, get your lazy butts out of bed. Lunch is ready, and I’m not playing personal chef for nothing,” Leslie snapped, her voice sharp enough to cut through the morning haze. A stray spark danced along her fingertips as she crossed her arms. “Or do I need to zap some sense into you?”
Ben groaned, rubbing his eyes with one hand while the other gave a playful smack to both Kara and Kara Zor-El’s backsides. The sound echoed in the quiet room, earning him twin glares that could’ve melted steel.
“Really, Ben?” Kara—Power Girl—propped herself up on an elbow, her blonde hair a messy cascade over her shoulder. Her blue eyes glinted with mock indignation. “You’ve got super strength now, and that’s how you use it? Smacking my ass like I’m some damsel in distress?”
Kara Zor-El, SuperGirl, mirrored her cousin’s pose on the other side, her smirk equally dangerous. “Careful, nerd boy. Keep that up, and we might just tie you to the bedframe with Kryptonian steel. See how cocky you are then.”
Ben grinned, unfazed by the threats as he sat up, the sheets pooling around his waist. “Hey, if that’s the kind of punishment I get, sign me up. Besides, can you blame a guy for waking up to a view like this?”
Leslie rolled her eyes so hard it was practically audible. “Oh, spare me the cheesy lines, Romeo. You’ve got ten seconds to drag yourselves to the dining area before I turn this bed into a lightning rod. Move!”
With a chorus of groans and laughter, the trio disentangled themselves from the sheets. Ben tugged on a pair of boxers, still marveling at the newfound muscles rippling under his skin, while Kara and Kara Zor-El slipped into tank tops and shorts, their movements graceful and predatory. As they shuffled toward the dining area, Ben felt a familiar heat building in his core—a side effect of the experimental serum that had turned his life upside down. It started as a tingle, then a pressure, and he knew what was coming. His cheeks flushed as he cleared his throat, trying to sound casual.
“Uh, heads up, ladies. I think I’m about to, uh… you know. Again.” He scratched the back of his neck, avoiding their gazes. “Spontaneous release incoming. Sorry?”
Leslie, already leaning against the dining table with a plate of sandwiches in front of her, didn’t miss a beat. Her lips curled into a wicked grin as she dropped to her knees and slid under the table with the grace of a cat. “Oh, poor little Benji can’t control himself,” she taunted, her voice dripping with mockery as she positioned herself just out of sight. “What’s the matter, big guy? Too much power for that puny brain to handle? Don’t worry, I’ve got this.”
Ben’s eyes widened as he felt her hands on him, her touch electric in more ways than one. “Leslie, what the hell—? You don’t have to—oh, damn.” His words dissolved into a groan, his hands gripping the edge of the table.
“Shut it, nerd,” Leslie shot back, her tone laced with playful venom. “You think I’m gonna let you make a mess of my dining area? Not on my watch. Now hold still and try not to embarrass yourself more than you already have.”
Before Ben could muster a retort, the front door clicked open, and Batgirl—Barbara Gordon—strode in, her red hair tied back in a tight ponytail, her utility belt clinking with every step. She took one look at the scene—Ben white-knuckling the table, Leslie’s boots sticking out from underneath—and smirked.
“Well, well, what do we have here?” Barbara drawled, crossing her arms. “Looks like someone’s got a situation. Need a hand, Ben? Or should I say… a knee?” Without waiting for an answer, she sauntered over, dropping into a chair beside him. With a mischievous glint in her green eyes, she positioned her leg just so, the crook of her knee pit offering an unexpected but oddly effective solution. “Don’t say I never did anything for you, kid.”
Ben’s head fell back against the chair, a mix of embarrassment and relief flooding through him. “You’re all insane. You know that, right? Completely, certifiably—oh, god—insane.”
Barbara chuckled, her tone cutting. “Says the guy who’s literally a walking science experiment. You’re welcome, by the way. Try not to pass out on me.”
As if on cue, Kara and Kara Zor-El returned from the bedroom, their expressions a mix of amusement and exasperation. Kara leaned down, pressing a firm, lingering kiss to Ben’s lips, her hand cupping his jaw with a possessive edge. “You’re a mess, Ben Brown,” she murmured against his mouth. “But you’re our mess.”
Kara Zor-El followed suit, her kiss softer but no less intense, her fingers threading through his hair. “Don’t think this gets you out of training later. We’re gonna whip that lack of control right out of you.”
Barbara and Leslie weren’t far behind, each planting their own teasing kisses on his cheeks, leaving Ben utterly flustered. “Okay, seriously, what’s with the sudden smooch-fest?” he stammered, his face as red as Barbara’s hair. “Not that I’m complaining, but… why?”
Leslie popped back up from under the table, wiping her hands on a napkin with a smug grin. “Get it through your thick skull, genius. You’re our boyfriend now. All of ours. We’ve decided, and you don’t get a say in it. So buckle up, buttercup, ‘cause this ride’s only gonna get wilder.”
Ben blinked, his brain struggling to catch up. “Wait, all of you? Like, officially? I mean, I’m not exactly complaining, but—how does that even work?”
Kara smirked, sliding into a chair across from him with a sandwich in hand. “It works because we say it does. We’re not exactly the ‘traditional’ type, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
Kara Zor-El nodded, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Think of it as a superpower, Ben. Managing us might just be your greatest challenge yet.”
Barbara tossed a grape at him, her aim perfect as it bounced off his forehead. “Don’t overthink it, rookie. Just eat your lunch and try not to blow up the condo with your… urges.”
The table erupted in laughter as they dug into the messy spread of sandwiches, chips, and soda. The air was thick with banter and innuendo, each quip sharper than the last. Ben couldn’t help but grin, despite the chaos swirling around him. Whatever this was—whatever they were—it was absurd, steamy, and completely insane. And as Leslie flicked a stray spark at him just to see him jump, he had a feeling this was only the beginning of their wild, unpredictable escapades.
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