Disclaimer: If you have to ask, then you need not know...

A/N: Hello you lot...that was quick of me, wasn't it? One of you said something about 'the well drying up', so i was inspired. Sadly, though, i will not be loading that hot sex scene at the beach. I decided on something a little different that will last a lot longer than a quickie at the beach. Usually, i wait until there is at least ten reviews for each chapter before adding but i -did- make you guys wait for an extra long time, so i decided to load in high hopes of twelve reviews or more...

Warning: There is sex in this scene, specifically a bit incestous, as there will be in following chapters. This chapter contains Clark/Harry

Please forgive any mistakes you may see as my beta has become a lazy ass. I am currently on the look out for another one and would be happy if anyone would do me the honor of beta-ing my story. I hope this chapter appeases some of you... (smirking)

Here we go...

Before you read this chapter, please read the warning above. This type of sex has been rated smutter than R so skip it if you don't want to read it!

Where we last left off...

Draco cleared his throat loudly, clearly annoyed with his hair lacking counterpart's idleness. Crossing his arms over his chest, the bitchy blonde slid into the passenger seat of his cousin's nice, leathery car. He shuddered with the thought, if he got turned on with the mere caress of leather on his person; he truly needed to fuck someone. His cousin slid beside him a moment afterward. The blonde smiled to himself…

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Forbidden Tension

Harry Potter had not been a calm child. Appearances, however, had convinced his family and friends otherwise. Six years in the Wizarding World had not changed this fairly simple fact and he sure as hell was -not- going to change now that he was no longer a virgin, nor because he was staying with his aunt, her husband, and his adoptive cousin from Carajo Land, which just so happened to be in another galaxy. Thinking of which, when told this, our young Potter had no quarrels with it, in fact, he still thought having an alien for a cousin was kind of cool, but the truth was, like everything in his life, it was weird.

Therefore, when young Harry Potter stormed into the quiet little house belonging to his long lost aunt and her husband, he turned right back around at the sound of a car engine and screeching tires, signally the exit of the cause of his inate anger and sexual discomfort. He storming purposefully into the nearest field until he was a good distance away, which took longer than he expected, proximity half an hour, and glared at the sky.

It is also noted that sometimes, Harry can be a bit single minded. Clark, the tall, bulky alien, who Harry blamed everything for, presently, had been yelling and shouting for him within the time his cousin had been storming away, only now realizing he could, in fact, speed, or jog, in order to catch up to the angry teen. Thus, explaining Harry's single-mindedness as he had not heard him.

"Harry, what's-…"

Harry's face, tilted up to the sky scrunched and his fists tightened, caught on a large inhale as he let all the anger and sexual frustration go, his magic pulsing around him in a green wave of energy, knocking his cousin onto his back before him. His magic stopped immediately after coming in contact with a life form, a skill he had perfected after many weeks of training, which was the result of frustration, which, in turn, had led to a series of disturbing, and rather embarrassing, magical outbursts.

His wandering mind snapped to the reason his outlet had stopped at the sound of a pained groan, the shaking form of his cousin an outrageous turn on as he kneeled beside him.

"Clark, you okay?" Abruptly, Harry lowered his face to Clark's, not moving of his own accord. It took him awhile to realize the pressure of strong, farmer's hands on his arms, pulling him toward the seemingly unconscious but mobile Kent. "Clark?" He struggled lightly at first, his face becoming closer to Clark's, the tattered remains of his burrowed clothing rubbing uncomfortably against his skin, blocking Clark's hands from his tanned flesh.

Harry shuddered violently when Clark opened his eyes, the glassy green eye candy shivering to his now worn jeans. His struggle increased in urgency, this was just wrong, he couldn't do this, especially not with his cousin. "Clark, stop it," he whispered, a tremble in his voice. "Clark, please, don't, you're just feeling the magic, it's the magic, it's the…" his lips met thin, pale pink flesh in an almost bruising kiss. He could not help the groan that escaped him, his tense shoulders relaxing, lying fully on the tall Kent as Clark wrapped his arms around Harry's form, arms incased in the iron hold formally known as Clark's arms.

The vaguely innocent embrace did not last long, a strange heat engulfing Harry's senses, moments leading the hard reality of a ground at his back. His head bumped slightly with the motion, eyes blinking open, not having realized he had closed them to stare into the glassy orbs of his 'kin'. Clark loosened his hold around the raven-haired boy, the light film of daze clearing somewhat from his eyes, leading Harry's semi-sigh of relief as he felt the now bruised pink lips leaving his own.

The sigh was, however, in vain. Clark swooped down on him, arms sliding down his back in an uncomfortable way, hands grasping his wrists and pinning them on either side of his head. A sleek tongue, hot and wet, invaded his gasping mouth, full, hard body pressing sensuously into his own. The Boy-Who-Lived noted that he'd have to stop finding himself in these positions until his train of thought faltered. Clark's clumsy warmth atop him a shockingly refreshing change, his tongue thrusting in and out of his mouth in beat with the rocking of strong hips against his own.

The rough movement almost hurt, pushing him beseechingly into the hard ground, before he used a good amount of strength to push back, rocking his lips upward in a motion almost familiar to him thanks to his adventures in the dungeons of his school. His eyes snapped open at the thought, nearly spitting Clark's tongue out of his mouth, his back muscles working against the ground in order to sit up but being hindered by the large body above him.

Feeling the distress of the once pliant body beneath him, Clark's lips left his with a soundless slip of skin. Chiseled features came into focus, wrists eased of bruising pressure as Harry gulped in much needed a breath. "Clark…" the Golden Boy whispered, as if speaking too loudly would break the spell held over the both of them and not speaking at all would encourage it. The complication of the name belied Harry's conflicting emotions.

The large eyes above him cleared in recognition, and though the shock was evident upon his face, the hold around his wrists lessened no more than what they had when he began to sit up. Harry blinked largely, arching his back in a weak attempt to dislodge Clark from above him. Twin gasps issued from their mouths, Harry's action misread by his treacherous body, his semi-hard cock more than pleased with this new development, though partially disappointed when it's owner halted the movement.

Clark's bodily shiver shook his cousin as well. The tall teen had not felt anything like that in his existence, near identical to the episodes when he could not get the bald Luthor out of his mind sans the help of his left hand. His conscious mind warred with his subconscious, arguing that he was humping his -cousin-, the latter pointing out, quite loudly, that he was not related to him by blood.

Harry, a silent but horny witness of this, threw all precaution to the wind, similar thoughts running through the forefront of his mind. Harry's logic: 'Alien is Clark. Harry no Alien. Clark not Harry's blood relative.' His mind skimmed his primitive wording as he felt the tension above him melt into the kiss he initiated.

Working his wrists from the now slackened hold, Harry fisted Clark's hair roughly, feeling vindictive suddenly at the soreness in his wrists and groaning in delighted frustration when Clark moaned enjoyably. Harry flipped their positions, straddling the bigger boy and grasping the tails of his tucked shirt, ripping it open as he felt his previous anger simmer below the surface of pleasure, the buttons popping satisfactorily.

Clark gasped and groaned beneath his cousin, back arching as Harry's blunt nails dragged a red trail down his chest, the pain an odd pleasure he had never known. Another groan pushed its way through his lips as Harry pinched the brownish pink nipples, which previously rested on his chest, now standing at attention like battle hungry shoulders. All the while, Harry grounded into him, angling the rock of his hips so their cocks pressed against on another, satisfied shudders his reward. Gazing along the perfection of his cousin's chest, his eyes landed on the teasing button of Clark's jeans, curiosity getting the better of him. Trailing his hands roughly downward, Harry nearly tore off Clark's jeans, jerking them downward by lifting himself onto his knees, the ground a constant reminder of where they were, though Harry cared not.

Clark's sharp intake of breath led a pleased smirk curving his cousin's lips, the cold, a pleasant shock to his hard lift, a temperature he did not feel often, being invincible. Glancing down, his pleasure lidded eyes widened as he took in two things. One being the welts on his bare, previously flawless skin and the other, which cause him to disregard the former, was the sight of Harry's pink tongue trailing from his hairless bellybutton downward. He did not witness the rest of the younger boy's decent, head falling back to bump the ground violently, eyes closing to take in the entire feeling of a wet, hot tongue trailing where no tongue had gone before.

Harry's giggle became a chuckle as his curious tongue trailed the light hair leading downward, the pleasant taste of salt and powered sugar dancing on his tongue. The texture of skin underneath his sensitive taste buds prompting his understanding of why anyone would want to give a blowjob. He made a mental note to write an essay on how much fun it was and sending it to Professor Snape. He trembled anxiously at the thought before returning his full attention to Clark. The skin under his tongue quivered as he went lower, his hand trailing behind his tongue to massage the wet skin of his partner, the hairs tickling his nose delightfully, a feeling he was not used to unless it made him sneeze.

His eyes closed as his tongue met more hair, pausing to inhale the light musk of Clark, almost positive no human could taste or smell this good. His mind momentarily flashed to Draco before the thought was discarded with the upward thrust of Clark's hips. His eyes slid open to gaze up at the panting, sweating alien. Suddenly, a powerful surge of superiority washed over him at the sight of the strongest and possibly most powerful Muggle in the world reduced to a wanton groaner by his own inexperienced hands. And, for once, Harry understood why Draco topped.

Clark groaned in disappointment when Harry paused, head thrashing from side to side, eyes closed tightly as his powerful hips rose from the ground, bumping Harry in the chin with his eager manhood. As if snapped from a daze, Harry gazed at the reddened flesh of Clark's prick, his mouth watering in anticipation. Not a moment later, he lunged, engulfing the head into his mouth, immediately sucking.

The flavor surprised him; he had been prepared for the bitter taste of pre-come, adjacent to his own, but not the sweet strawberry that assaulted his senses so congenially. He groaned throatily, taking more of the large organ in his mouth, the cherry tinted flesh larger than his own by an inch or so.

Clark moaned loudly, buckling near violently. The wet heat surrounded his entire being, it seemed, and causing him to choke and squirm, the aggression would have knocked Harry off if the young wizard had not done anything to his powers. Clark's hands clenched and unclenched at his sides as Harry licked him like a kid licking his favorite lollypop, sucking and nibbling at the head of his cock, his naïveté a minor factor in his exploration.

The strangest urge came over the Gryffindor, his eyes snapping open, looking into the face of his incoherent cousin. Harry smirked around Clark's cock, allowing the organ to slide from his mouth as he sat up.

"Don't stop, Harry, don't stop…" Clark groaned, eyes opening to look up into Harry's face, a smirk that reminded the panting alien of Lex curved his kiss-swollen lips.

"I'm not, dear cousin," he purred sexily, sounding, oddly enough, like Draco. He shook off the thought of the blonde and rose on his knees, lifting his shirt over his head.

Clark stared at the ripple of his cousin's muscles, packed tightly into his tanned flesh, rips poking only slightly as he stretched, a light trail of hair similar to his own pointing down into his 'trousers'. Eager and horny, Clark found himself growing even harder at the sight, surprising, as he had pegged himself for a tall, slim, bald guy liking kind of guy. He shrugged mentally, big hands clumsily working at the button and zipper of blue, worn jeans, which ripped off in his haste. Clark glanced up apologetically before doing the same to Harry's boxers. He took a moment to gaze in wonder at Harry's perfection, beyond himself as to why the sight that resembled his own, so much, awed him.

Almost purring, Harry pushed Clark back down fully, a light chuckle leaving the brunette's smiling lips as Harry positioned himself. Clark glanced down to see what was so funny, his eyes widening a moment before Harry impaled himself on the quivering prick of Clark Kent. Harry saw stars and Clark saw planets.

Both heads turned toward the heavens at the impanation, the angle of the prod hitting Harry's prostate dead on, the pain blurred pleasure as he felt something within him give and Clark…well, Clark had to have died.

"So tight…" he gasped, sounding in pain as he drove upward again, the pressure holding him on the edge as he continued, the boy above him rocking downward and nearly falling. Harry placed his hands on Clark's abdomen in order to keep himself steady, his strong hands resting on Harry's hips to help, the action also allowing his thrusts to hit that same spot he had hit before, his mind not cloudy enough to have missed the intense quake above him.

'Up, down, up, down, up down...' The mantra played in both heads, the sound of their pants a comfort in the ringing silence that mocked their sweating bodies. The pace sped simultaneously. Harry lost his balance when Clark began to blur, eyes shut tightly as he felt himself falling, suspended only by Clark's hands. He fell off the beat, Clark's thrusts lasting only a moment afterward before he felt his insides being coated with a warm substance.

Harry collapsed atop Clark, only realizing he had come when his torso touched the sticky white mess of his release, his tightly closed eyes softening peacefully as he listened to the calming heartbeat of the male below him, his hands on either side of his face. Harry sighed softly, strong hands moving from his bruising hips to wrap around his waist.

"Please don't hate me," Harry whispered suddenly, opening his eyes; his shoulders tensed at the thought of losing his new friend because of his teenage hormones and unruly magic. A stressed moment of silence passed before he felt Clark's chest quake. He looked up at the sound of laughter, Clark's big grin a pleasant shock. He grinned stupidly back.

"As long as you don't hate me for the bruises, I'd say we don't have to complicate this…" Clark blushed. Harry smiled softly at the endearing sight. "But Harry," the smile had faded from the older boy's features, the changing eyes averting in dark blue, suddenly guilty, "we can't let my parents know…or Lana…and…Lex…" the whispered name sent a light shiver down Harry's spin.

"I understand," though spoken in a downcast sort of voice, Harry's eyes spoke nothing but truth when Clark turned to check. The farmer grinned thankfully, a mischievous gleam in his eyes as he tightened his hold on Harry's waist.

"That is how it's -should- be…" He said in a mock superior voice before he began to tickle the hell out of the momentarily content Boy-Who-Lived.

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Meanwhile, at Luthor Manor...

Well, that's it for now... Can you guess what is going to happen at Luthor Manor?

Note: Carajo Land- Spanish term for "fuck knows where"... (Hey, i thought it was funny shrug)

SS: Want more Draco/ Harry?Want more Lex/Clark? Check out my bio for the links!

(Both sites are rated G-NC17)

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Next time: Draco/Lex

So, until next time, my wonderful reviewers,

Ash