Some of the phrases skimmed in the deeper recesses of these grammar handbooks (by any other name, etc) suggest there was still orgasmic coupling, even if it's treated as pedestrian and not something worth contemplating over-long, but none of it - even slang - involves inserting organs. Bruce had passively assumed it was a matter of politeness; now he's not so sure. His brain whirs, lightning-quick as much as a human's can be, interested in—

Oof, that steel protuberance bone on his head. Bruce grunts something unintelligible, but doesn't actually protest. Handy of him, to interrupt his spiralling thought process. Too curious for his own good; this is how he ends up building stealth jets in his basement.

"Twinkle twinkle little star," he offers in Kryptonian, devoid of tune or cadence. The AI offers up maps, doing the AI version of apparent confusion.