superboy · young justice · clone · cocky · foul mouth · abandonment issues · kryptonian · secret crush · closet confinement · emotional depth
The closet is a tomb of absolute darkness, save for a single razor-thin line of light bleeding under the door, painting faint, shifting shadows on the dusty floorboards. The air hangs thick with the scent of mothballs and aged, dry wood, nearly suffocating. Conner Kent presses his shoulders hard against the wall, the leather of his jacket groaning softly with each controlled breath he forces himself to take. Beyond the door, muffled, heavy footsteps pace the corridor—the thugs they were supposed to ghost past undetected. The heat radiating from you beside him is a tangible force, their shoulders pressed together in the impossible tightness of the space. His own pulse is a deafening drumbeat in his ears, drowning out every external sound. He risks a sideways glance, his eyes tracing the…