Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/9813164.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Young_Justice_(Cartoon)
  Relationship:
      Kon-El_|_Conner_Kent/Clark_Kent
  Character:
      Kon-El_|_Conner_Kent, Clark_Kent
  Additional Tags:
      Unhealthy_Relationships, Unhealthy_Coping_Mechanisms, Possessive
      Behavior, Anal_Sex, Oral_Sex, Ephebophilia, Kon_is_very_possessive_and_a
      bit_unhealthy_about_his_want_for_attention, Father/Son_Incest, Pseudo-
      Incest
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-02-18 Words: 2673
****** Electra Complex ******
by littlesinner
Summary
     Electra Complex:
     noun, Psychoanalysis.
     1.)
     the unresolved, unconscious libidinous desire for the father:
     designation based on the Greek myth of Electra and Agamemnon.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
Sometimes, Conner wondered if he knew.
It wasn’t as if he would ever have told him, of course, and it wasn’t as if he
wanted him to know. (Well, maybe he did—if he did know, then it would mean he
was okay with it, because he hadn’t told him to stop) but he knew, more than
likely, that he would have completely ruined their relationship if he knew—and
that was much, much more important than anything his body wanted, but even
then, he just couldn’t help himself. Not when he was right there, and not when
this was everything that he wanted.
He stood there, in the hallway of the Fortress of Solitude, just outside of
Superman’s room, and he watched. A pair of red x-ray spectacles over his
face—ones that he’d received as a present that year for his birthday—and his
front hand jammed down his jeans, glove removed, cupping himself through his
underwear, and shifting his front hand up-and-down slowly, careful not to make
a single sound.
He’d been doing this for months now, ever since he had gotten a key to the
Fortress, and ever since Superman had said he was welcome to come there at any
time that he had wanted. It had been his third birthday, and the best one of
his life. Everybody had been there, even Superman, and he had been taken-aside
by the man and told that he was proud and that since he was a Kent
officially—adoption papers and everything—he was getting a key now, and x-ray
spectacles, and his personal transporter would go to the North Pole so that he
could get there and nobody else and he was special now, and he knew he was—not
even Batman or Wonder Woman had keys to the Fortress of Solitude. It was only
him, and that made him even more special than Robin and Batman. Batman let
Superman into the Bat-Cave, but for Superman? It was only Superboy.
He bit down on his lip as he took another glance, careful to hold his breath.
The room was almost completely empty, in that weird, alien way that the entire
Fortress was. The walls were all made of blue-ish white crystal, and there was
only a single, flat screen in the wall, and a crystal slap of block that
Superman—Clark, his name was Clark, he wanted Superboy to call him that—was
laying on. He was completely naked, from head-to-toe, and basking in the Arctic
Sun, like he did once a week, every week.
His body was stretched-out, catlike, and through the walls Conner could see
every inch of him. His skin was sun-kissed, with a few pale, green scars
slashed into his chest and back and arms, hidden underneath short, rough curls
of body-hair. He was roguish, rough and animalistic when compared to Conner’s
untouched, pale, unblemished smooth skin, but all it did was prove to Conner
that he was so much more heroic than people gave him credit for, more than
anybody else knew.
Anybody but him.
His skin was flushed, though, saturated by the sun, but also by something else.
Superman’s large hand had smoothed down his beautiful, rough, muscular torso
onto his thigh, and had taken hold of his heavy, thick cock, and he’d been
stroking himself lazily for the past few minutes. Conner had watched the entire
time as Kal’s cock had grown, lengthening and fattening and reddening, until it
was thick and engorged, too heavy to stand-up, and had fallen back with a heavy
slap onto his stomach, dripping pre onto the ripples of muscle in his belly.
The first time that Conner had seen it, he had been breathless. It hadn’t been
here—it hadn’t even been in the Fortress. It had been in the watchtower, when
he had gone to take a shower, and he had accidentally caught Superman in one,
when everyone else had gone home, stroking himself under the water. Conner had
stood there, watching, until he was uncomfortably tight in his jeans, and had
run-away into the bathroom to relieve himself. He had been sure that Superman
had heard him, that his adolescent desire would have ruined everything they
had, but Superman had never said anything about it, so he had assumed that he
was safe.
On the bed of the Fortress, Superman’s body tightened, arching, face twisted
into lust, and Conner could feel his cock pressing through the fold in his
underwear, until the bare head poked-through, into the light. Conner pushed his
briefs down, past his thighs, and took the base of his cock, shifting his hand
slowly over it. His cock was so hard that it easily stood-up on its own, curved
up with arousal, and his underwear had soaked-through with pre, enough that he
worried Superman would smell him as much as hear him, but again, he didn’t even
twitch.
He could hear Superman moving again, twisting on the crystal, and Conner licked
his lips and sucked on his lower lip as he watched. Superman’s brows were
furrowed, brought-together in arousal, his hips twisted to the side so Conner
could get a full view of that girthy cock. His mouth was watering, and he
wanted it in his mouth desperately, he wanted to touch it and taste it and feel
it stretch him open, buried deep inside, but all he could do was pump himself
faster, harder, skin over skin and his breath coming in short gasps. His
heartbeat was roaring in his head, and Clark’s cock was jumping and twitching
in arousal, until finally he came, spurting pearlescent cum over his belly, and
Conner came soon-after, shoving his cock down his pants so he wouldn’t splash
on the floor, even as his back tightened in orgasm and he stained the front of
his pants dark with sticky cum.
He stood there for a moment, panting, ready to walk-away again, when a voice
called out to him, making him tense and jump.
“Conner?”
For a minute, he panicked, sure that he was going to be caught, before he
decided that the best thing to do would be to pretend nothing happened. Pushing
the goggles onto his head and shoving his shirt down as low as possible, he
squared his shoulders, zipped his jacket over himself, and strode inside, head
and chin held high—
And he stopped short at the sight of Superman, still naked, seed still staining
his stomach, looking at him as if this were the most normal thing in the world.
A dark blush bloomed over Conner’s face, and he immediately looked-away,
covering his eyes with his arm. “I—sorry, I—Su—Kal, you’re naked—I should—!”
“You should stay. Now come on, look at me. I know you do.”
Slowly, oh so very slowly, Conner removed his arm from his eyes, tearing his
gaze from the wall to look back at his mentor. His eyes greedily roamed that
body for a moment, before he forced himself to look Clark in the face. Already,
he could feel himself swelling again in his pants, alien stamina pushing him
back into arousal, but he tried his best to ignore it, and prayed that Superman
would as well.
“Come over here.” Clark said calmly, and Superboy obeyed, taking a few steps
forward, until he was standing just in front of the man. Lazily, the alien
swung his legs over the table, getting to his feet, standing head, chest, and
shoulders above Superboy, and somehow the size difference made him blush even
harder.
“Superman?” He swallowed, mouth dry, before he licked his lips.
“Did you want something from me?”
“H-huh?” Conner asked, completely thrown for a loop. “Didn’t you call me over
so you could…?”
“I hear you watching me and touching yourself every time I do this.” Superman
answered smoothly. “So, I want to know. Is there something you want from me?”
Conner’s mind completely short-circuited. This wasn’t happening—this was just
some kind of dream. He wasn’t being offered sexual favors from Superman. This
was just another self-indulgent dream. Any moment, he’d wake up, with a tent in
his sheets or wet sheets, and he’d start all over again.
“Conner?”
“I want you to f—have sex with me.” Conner said quickly, censoring himself so
he wouldn’t swear in front of Superman. “Is that…is that okay?”
The silence that passed then was the longest that had ever come in the boy’s
life, before Superman simply nodded and said “Okay. Will you suck me, first? So
I will be hard-enough for you?”
It was as if he’d asked if Conner wanted to meet Santa Claus. Immediately, the
clone dropped to his knees, grabbing the thighs of the kryptonian, and pulling
him as close as possible. Clark’s cock was half-hard already, but compared to
seeing it from afar, it might as well have been mammoth in comparison. Thick
and heady and smelling of musk, Conner gulped, carefully taking the base, and
licking a stripe up the underside, testing it, watching how he reacted.
He was immediately pleased to see that he had done a good job, judging by the
slow roll of Superman’s hips, and how his cock twitched in arousal. That was
all the encouragement he needed, and he latched his lips on the head, the
flavor musky and heady on his tongue, and he sucked down as much as he could,
until his tongue was completely covered in cock, and he bobbed his head
contently as he worked. The weight was comforting, and the sucking motion was
soothing, and he shut his eyes, mind slowly clouding with euphoria at the
feeling of cock in his mouth and pre in his throat. A low buzz was in his mind,
and just above him, he could feel and hear the heavy panting of his mentor, and
he only rolled his tongue and sucked down even more, forcing past his gag
reflex, until cock hit the back of his throat.
He could have stayed there forever, suckling every last drop of cum ever made
from Superman’s cock, but Superman pushed his head back, and Conner let out a
soft whine as the heavy weight fell from his lips. He sat there, panting, face
flushed and lips swollen red, and for a moment Superman looked down on him
almost contemplatively, before Conner felt himself being lifted-up under his
arms, and set back down on the crystal bed, on his back. Superman took a moment
to pull down his jeans and briefs completely, ass exposed to the air, and
Conner shivered as he felt his entire body exposed to Superman—Clark—Clark was
looking at him…
His own cock was pulsing with arousal, heavy on his belly, as his shirt was
pushed back, and Superman took hold of it, earning a whimper from the boy. He
panted openly, head thrown back, and Su—Clark seemed to reach for something,
before Conner heard a soft snap from some kind of bottle-cap, and Clark’s
fingertip was at his hole.
Conner covered his face as it burned red, he knew he was blushing, and he knew
that he was only getting harder. His hole fluttered around the intrusion, but
already his body was giving-in to it, easily allowing the fingertip to sink
inside of him, swallowing and suckling like his mouth had done moments before,
clinging to the flesh inside of him. His thighs were shaking, and his balls
were pulling tight against his body, and heat was coiling beneath his hips as
his cock twitched, and then suddenly Clark was touching some spot inside of him
that made him cry-out openly, and all he could see was white—
He came then, on his stomach, and he lay there panting and quivering,
embarrassment burning his face, and for a moment all he could feel was shame
that he’d lost control so quickly, but instead of berating him like he’d
expected, he felt a soft, gentle kiss on his cheek, and then his forehead, and
Conner opened his eyes as Clark’s free hand gently pried his own hands away
from covering his face.
“It’s alright. Is it too fast?”
“Please….” Conner whispered, shaking just a little from both embarrassment, his
own orgasm, and being entirely emotionally overwhelmed. “Don’t stop until you…”
“Until?”
“I want you…inside me….” When he admitted it, again, he expected Superman to
laugh, but the man only quietly considered it, before nodding. He withdrew his
finger, and already, Conner could feel jolts of arousal hitting him. How fast
did a kryptonian recover? He needed to ask.
The entrance was slow, unbearably so. Clark’s cock was thick and girthy and
hot, and when he hooked Conner’s legs atop his shoulders, Conner could feel the
blunt head of it nudging against his hole. For a moment, he quivered, sure that
Clark wouldn’t make it inside, but again his body seemed all-too-ready to
accommodate. Clark sank inside slowly and easily, and Conner’s toes curled and
his fingers dug into crystal as it found its way home inside of him, and he
couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of pride that he had taken this
much so easily. The man’s body clung to him perfectly, as if it was meant to
fuck Conner, and even then, he was openly trying to pull the man deeper inside
with his asshole, working himself closer to him as he possibly could. The man
was just so thick and hot that it was overwhelming, absolutely filling him to
the brim, and he had never felt this complete in his life, like the emptiness
inside him was so easily-fixed, and for a moment he wanted to laugh at how
simple a solution this was, and he rolled his hips down, taking another inch,
and earning himself a low grunt from his elder, glee building and spilling-over
at the fact that he could do that.
When Clark started to withdraw, he could feel every inch of it inside of him
moving, and he shivered at the pleasure, hard all over again, unbearably so.
The powerful muscle of the man was atop him, around him, inside of him, and
everything around him was Superman, and he panted softly at the overwhelming
presence of him absolutely everywhere. He was inside of him, and he was filling
Conner to the brim, and he shuddered as he reached his arms up to cling to the
man, legs around his hips, trying almost to melt against him. A kiss touched
the top of his head, earning a whimper, and then another one, and the muscle
dragged home inside of him, pressing down on that sweet area inside of him,
milking the sensitive nerve and earning an open cry again. And when Superman
moved again, he angled himself there, sliding over it again and again, until
Conner was a quivering mess, even more so than before, and Superman picked up
speed until the sound of flesh hitting flesh was echoing in the crystal cavern.
When Conner came a second time, he tried earnestly to hold it in, but as he was
tightening his body to keep himself in a second longer, he could hear Clark
grunt and press down into Conner as much as possible, before a flood of creamy
heat and warmth filled his asshole, buried deep as he could possibly go. That
was it for Conner, and he was cumming after, painting their torsos with the
sticky substance. He rolled his hips down as much as he possibly could, taking
the cock and seed as deep as he was physically able, and it was only after a
few more aftershocks that Clark finally withdrew, and Superboy was left almost
physically glowing, sated completely, with an ass full of Superman’s cum.
Another kiss was pressed to his forehead, and he reached up, grabbing the back
of Clark’s head to keep him there.
“You should get cleaned up.”
“I’ll stay a while…”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah…unless you want to do it again…”
End Notes
     The actual Electra Complex is basically exclusive to girls, but the
     title was too good to pass-up. It also involves competition with the
     mother, too...maybe if I one day continue this, I'll have him kill
     Lex? Idk. We'll see where this goes, if it goes.
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