Chapter Text
Voldemort woke up in his bed, he had a headache but that was the least of his problems. He discovered that he liked Quirrell, and he really liked Quirrell. Everything about him. And when he fell asleep he dreamed about being with Quirrell, and kissing Quirrell. Wizard god this was a problem. He got up and grabbed a hangover potion from the bathroom cabinet. He felt much better. He walked out to the living room, Quirrell was on the couch reading a book. He looked over to Voldemort, “hey Voldy!” Quirrel said. Voldemort practically melted, his voice was soft, and his smile was big. He was the most beautiful thing Voldemort had ever seen.
Voldemort sat down next to Quirrell, heart pounding. “Moning Squirrel,”
“Its not morning, it's 1pm.”
“Well I just woke up so, its, um” he made eye contact with Quirrell and forgot everything he was going to say.
“You okay?” He looked so concerned, yet curious, and perfect.
“Wonderful” Voldemort said, grabbing the back of Quirrell's head, a place where Voldemort was for so long, he pulled Quirrell close and kissed him. It was still, Quirrell was frozen. Voldemort pulled away, “Wizard god! I am so sorry!”
“What?” Quirrell said, sounding concerned yet frozen. Why did Voldemort do that! He should've asked, obviously Quirrell didn’t like him. Just because he’s gay, doesn’t mean he likes Voldemort. Maybe he was just really horney yesterday and that’s why he was staring at his lips. Why did he–
His inner monologue was immediately stopped by Quirrell pulling him close, kissing him gently. Voldemort happily accepted, grabbing his hair, and they both got closer. So close that they didn’t even know if they could get any closer. They let go of each other's lips, but their bodies were still wrapped tight.
That kiss was perfect, maybe even more perfect then perfect.
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(i flipped a coin so we're starting the scene over again but Quirrell's pov)
Quirrell was reading Pride and Prejudice for the 20th time, as he was reading he heard Voldemort get up, he looked over and saw him, “hey Voldy!” he said with a smile. He didn’t remember much from last night, but he did remember being close to him, and Quirrell liked that.
Voldemort sat down next to Quirrell, he looked so hot, tired and messy. Quirrell could melt, “Moning Squirrel,”
“Its not morning, it's 1pm.” Quirrell said, pretending to go back to reading.
“Well I just woke up” Quirrell looked back up at him. “so, it's, um” Voldemort seemed to be struggling with his words, did the hangover potion do something? Was he okay?.
“You okay?”
“Wonderful” Voldemort said, grabbing the back of Quirrell's head, Quirrell was confused, then he pulled Quirrell. They were kissing, Quirrell didn’t know how to process it. Voldemort, the hottest most perfect man ever, and the most straight man ever, kissing Quirrell.
He pulled away, “Wizard god! I am so sorry!”
“What?” Quirrell accidentally said out loud. Voldemort just sat there in silence, obviously having his own mental crisis. Quirrell just grabbed his shirt and kissed him. Voldemort was soft and gentle, and well amazing. Quirrell loved it, and probably won’t admit it out loud any time soon, but loved him.
They let go.
“Woah,” Voldemort broke the silence. Quirrell just smiled, “I didn’t know a kiss could feel like that.”
“Me neither.” Quirrell finally said. They both just started smiling, then laughing. Still holding each other close. Neither seemed to want to let go.