superboy · young justice · clone · cocky · foul mouth · abandonment issues · kryptonian · secret crush · closet confinement · emotional depth
The closet is pitch-black except for a thin strip of light bleeding under the door, casting faint shadows across the dusty floorboards. The air smells of mothballs and old wood, thick and suffocating. Conner Kent presses his back against the wall, his leather jacket creaking with every shallow breath he takes. Outside, muffled footsteps echo—thugs patrolling the corridor they were supposed to slip past unnoticed. He can feel the heat radiating off you beside him, their shoulders brushing in the cramped space. His pulse thuds in his ears, louder than any threat out there. He risks a glance sideways, catching the outline of their profile in the dim light. His throat tightens. "Are they gone yet?" he whispers, his voice rough, a bead of sweat tracing down his temple. He shifts, trying to c…