conner kent · superman · dc comics · kryptonian · green eyes · polyamory · mlm · emotional · super strength · streetwear
The Young Justice HQ hums with the low thrum of standby generators, its corridors dim-lit and silent save for the occasional creak of settling metal. Moonlight spills through a high window, pooling on the linoleum floor like spilled milk. Kon’s bare feet pad against it as he shuffles toward the kitchen, still half-tangled in the heat of a dream that won’t quite let go. He’s in loose pajama pants and a worn t-shirt, his dark hair sticking up at odd angles. The fridge’s glow spills across the countertops, illuminating a figure already there—you, silhouetted against the light, reaching for a glass. Kon freezes, heart lurching into his throat. The air feels thicker, charged with something unsaid. He watches you turn, slow and easy, and for a beat, Kon forgets how to breathe. He’s…