Disclaimer: Welcome all the bastards that want to sue me…but guess what…? I don't own Harry Potter nor do I own Smallville, so, you can go sit on a turtle…

A/N: Sorry it has taken so long for me to update…I was kinda trying to tie some loose ends within the story when I realized the basic smutty goodness was disappearing. So here it is, and, trust me, the story will become clearer and more exciting…other than the sex…as we progress as I hate 'chick fics'. Thanks to ALL MY REVIEWERS. SPECIAL THANKS TO : violentbeautygothika, my 100 reviewer…!

Chapter Rating: NC-17

Warning: Incest, Male/ Male The usual, male action, there should only be minimal incest in this one, as Harry and Clark aren't really related, finally, a bit of Lex/Clark, and Draco/Harry will appear in later chapters.

Chapter Twelve

From where we left off…

"Don't worry about them. We could both use a bit of a distraction, don't you think…?" Harry giggled when Clark picked him up, full out laughing when he was tossed onto his bed. "Since when did you become so aggressive?" Harry leered up at the tall farmer, a sly grin gracing the plains of his face as Clark began to undress.

Clark shrugged, brow furrowed at a sudden thought of Lex, his smooth, pale skin, his piercing blue eyes. Clark shook his head, he was with Harry now. He shimmed out of his pants, eyes locked to that of the raven-haired boy upon -the- guest bed of -Luthor Manor- as Harry took his own pants off his muscled, tanned legs. The alien could not ignore the fact that the thought of Lex walking in them was hot and his slowly rising erection twitched in excitement.

Harry blinked rapidly as he pulled his shirt from over his head. Draco? No. Draco looked nothing like Harry's alien counterpart. Hell, they were complete opposites in more ways than one. Blonde and brunette. Tan and pale. Alien and human (or something –like- human), but wasn't Clark more human than Draco? Taller and tall. And both had –large-, gorgeous…bodies! Yes, that's what he was thinking…! Large bodies!

"It's kinda disconcerting to hear you talk about your rival while we are about to have sex," Clark smirked good-naturedly, crawling up the bed to kneel between Harry's spread legs, the Gryffindor haven propped himself onto the long expanse of the headboard, legs and arms opened in welcome.

"Note to self: No thinking aloud." Harry cursed under his breath, looking down in shame for a moment only to stare defiantly up at his cousin afterward, wrapping his arms around the thick waist. "You were thinking about Lex just now," he countered, running his dull nails down the unyielding flesh of Clark's chest. He felt the strong body before him shiver, the skin under his nails tightening as the alien flexed his abdominal muscles.

"I could never tell a lie," Clark whispered, leaning down the short space and sitting on his thighs, resting his head into the crook of his cousin's neck, inhaling the soft scent of sweat and soap.

"You didn't exactly admit to your thoughts, you know…?" Harry returned, tilting his head to the side to give the now roaming mouth and tongue better access to his ear and neck.

"Yeah," Clark enjoyed the little huffs of breath his younger cousin made, the comment spoken into the slightly protruding bone of Harry's collar. He yanked at one of Harry's hips, the boy under him and pressed into the mattress in one swift move. His saliva and breath followed the slant of bone to the center of Harry's chest, eager as he was; he progressed slowly, trailing downward and sideways to lave worship upon one of the eager peeks that was the Gryffindor's nipple. "Harry," he said after a moment of silence, reassured in his fair treatment of both nipples, biting slightly the left one in a promise of return.

He removed his mouth from the wet skin of his cousin. "Harry?" he asked, a soft smile curling his lips as he listened to the whine of loss. "I want to go down on you…I want to take you in my mouth like you did me…but harder, slower, longer, just until you come. Then I want to be inside you, Harry, not touching you, just my cock to stimulate you, would you like that?" Clark had –no- idea where –that- had come from. He shivered at the purr that left his lips, swearing in his head that he had just channeled some type of Luthor or Malfoy.

When Harry opened his eyes, Clark's "almost smirk" fell, as did he when Harry tightened the lose, stroking hold he had on his back, groaning into the fierce kiss Harry induced, attacking the aggressive tongue and teeth and pure -heat- that made up the Gryffindor's mouth. Harry panted against Clark's lips, grasping and pulling at whatever part of his cousin's body he could, arching and writhing like a fucking animal in –heat-, only serving the fire wood as it grew and built between them.

"In me…" Harry whispered throatily, spreading his legs wider, his ass higher, and grabbing Clark's dripping cock. "In me…now…Clark…" he gasped. Clark shook his head, attempting to pull from Harry's skin only to find his strength sapped and needed in a completely different part of his anatomy. He fought only long enough to utter a few dire words.

"We should use lube…or protection…or…fuck!" The rough, violent slam of his length into the tight, dry sheath of Harry's body caused stars to shoot into his vision. His conscious brain took a slight break as he writhed, rutted with each thrust upward from the Gryffindor before he came back to himself, rocking into the willing body beneath him and breaking the rhythm, enjoying the friction of heat and intimacy for a mere moment before his orgasm was milked from him, followed shortly by Harry.

Note to self, he thought as he slid out of the cum coated sheath, lying on his side and opening his arms to the cuddle of the Gryffindor, teenagers don't take much to cum, less stimulation in future sexual encounters, at least until thirty.

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Most people didn't notice that Lex Luthor had OCD. His father did, though, which was annoying in itself. He sighed to himself, chalking up his wandering thoughts to this new situation, idly adjusting his laptop every few seconds or so. The laptop in question didn't move but a millimeter which was fine by him, because he liked it better that way. He moved it again, or maybe it was better the other way. He moved it again…

Taking a long slip of his brandy he sighed to himself, eyes dropping as he moved his laptop once more before closing his eyes for just a moment of rest. His head lulled to the side, eyes rapidly moving as it took only a moment for sleep to find him and wrap its arms gently around his willing shoulders. His last conscious thought as he fell asleep was to send a few thousand in thanks to the designer of his desk as it was superbly comfortable.

"Hey, Lex," the shuffling feet were always a good sign, which either led to an apology or a chance hang out with his younger counterpart, "ya busy?" Damn, he would have to move that carpet an extra two inches to the left. Lex sighed again, he would have to get back on his medicine soon if he didn't want this to go on forever…He moved his laptop again. Shrugging lightly, his screen went blank with a few memorized clicks of his long, pale fingers.

"No, Clark, I'm not busy and, if you don't mind I'd like to get back to my cousin, as should you," maybe his tone should have been a little softer, or maybe, just maybe, he shouldn't have said it at all if the hurt puppy that was his "best friend" was anything to go by.

"Oh…" Clark sighed, his shoulders sagging as he turned away. Just before he made his first step he turned back around, shoulders squared, spine straightened in standard Kent determination. "if you are looking for an apology…" he was expecting some righteous speech about how aliens don't apologize, but, then again, it wasn't like Clark was aware, at all, that he knew his secret, "you have it…you have my utmost sincerity behind it as well." The boy had been hanging around him for far too long. "But," and there was always a but, Lex thought as he stood, moving to his convenient water and soda refrigerator, "I will not be ashamed of Harry…or whatever the hell is going on between us."

Now probably wasn't the time for him to get hard, or the time for thinking about how much it was a turn on when Clark cursed. Then again, they had about 25 hours, thirteen minutes and seventeen seconds of time, so what the hell…nineteen seconds.

"I don't expect you to be, Clark, just as I'm not ashamed of my relations with Draco." He heard the gasp, could feel the hurt that was almost tangible in the air…and wasn't this supposed to be about Draco and Potter? Thirty-nine seconds. He turned water in hand, counting how many he had left before he closed the door. He took a long gulp of it before looking at the boy. He could practically hear Clark shift in his skin, the changing greenish eyes hardened in determination. It was as if the ground shook as he watched and counted each step of Clark's stride toward him. "Clark…?"

Luthors didn't get scared, uneasy or unsure but Malfoys did and he supposed he was channeling that part of himself now as he felt a startling mixture of all of them in a huge ball of arousal and excitement. He never really noticed how tall Clark was and he kept it in mind to ask him his measurements one day, or, better yet, to measure the tall farmer himself. And he really needed to take his medicine.

Clark's eyes were searching and serious as he placed his big hands on Lex's waist, face becoming steadily closer, giving Lex precisely ten seconds to pull away before the Luthor finally became tired of counting and moved the meeting of skin along.

The kiss was nothing like he expected it to be nor was it what he didn't expect. Whereas he had pegged the kiss to be innocent, a brushing of lips in just the right lighting, which he had forgot to have built, (damn it), this was bruising, passionate, hungry, deep within nana-seconds and hurtful as he was pushed roughly into the little refrigerator. And, damn it, if the stab of cool metal into his ass didn't feel this good, and, damn it, why did Draco never taste like this? And, fuck…

Clark's hands were everywhere at once, throbbing and pulsing with real skin and real blood and…shaking. Air, seemed like a thing from the past, such mundane things didn't matter in situations like this. It took him a moment to realize Clark had pulled away, opening tightly closed eyes that had spots dancing in front of them, little spots that looked like angels dancing around Clark's head. There were exactly twenty-seven. Note to self: medicine.

"Lex," it also took him a moment to realize Clark's big green eyes were filled with concern and worry and, so fucking hot. He made a note to visit a church and give them a hundred thousand fucking dollars for making the angels such good dancers; they really made the star of the show stand out. "Lex?"

"Yes?" he asked, also just now noticing that he had his hands tangled in star Kent's hair and his legs wrapped tightly around the thickly muscled waist.

"Shouldn't we talk about…" words. Such mundane things, like air. He attacked Clark's mouth with a fierceness that screamed M-I-N-E!

"Lex, my dear cousin, you shouldn't sleep on your desk, it's bad for your posture, not to mention the engravings that will grace your flawless pale skin." Where the fuck did Draco come from? Lex opened blurry eyes to stare at pale, perfect feet of his cousin.

"Clark…" he asked stupidly rising his head and wiping his mouth. He hadn't fallen asleep at his desk in God knew how long. He eyed his half empty bottle of brandy and concluded to not drink as much when he was so tired, it could lead to potentially embarrassing situations. "Draco?" Yes, no more drinking.

"Yeah…" the blonde gave him that searching "are you drunk" look, gliding to his sofa and plopping down. "How much have you drunk and do you want some?" Draco held up a bottle of wine, half empty from the looks of it. Hey, he was a business man; the glass is always half empty rather than half full…Yeah, no more drinking.

Well, that's it for now. I hope the lot of you were satisfied as I decided to do half and half without the actual "never changing pairing of Clark and Lex and Harry and Draco"thingactually happening.

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