Hi there. All the characters were made by the amazing, incredible, Golden God of awesome, Derek Landy. I love him, and he deserves all the credit. So, maybe this is a bit unfair, but I think maybe this fanfic should be rated Mature –NOT Teen. Things are about to get weird.

This was inspired by the author of "What an Odd Pair", a fellow fanfic writer on this website, who writes similar odd pairings. If you want more, go to her, because she is an amazing writer. I'd already been thinking about writing this type of thing, but since she's already started it, I was all like, hey, why not?

Here it is. I know not everyone may like this. Still, "If you don't have something nice to say, don't say anything at all."

This is the fun type of fanfic.

Chapter One: Bad Guys.

Nefarian Serpine strode through the halls of Venegous Baron's giant, luxurious castle, only pausing once or twice to admire the paintings on the wall. They were different, only slightly, from the ones in his own castle. Nefarian couldn't help but be impressed by Baron's simplistic style in his castle.

Not that he could ever stand to live the same way Baron did. If there was anything between Mevolent's generals, it was a huge gap in character. Baron was a realistic, a devout follower, a clever strategist and fighter. Serpine was an elitist, a charmer, and recruiter, not a natural fighter—but had been trained to be efficient, loyal and clever. The Generals, without counting Lord Vile, respected each other.

That was the kind side of it. Behind each other's backs, Baron and Serpine indulged in humiliating each other, as long as it didn't harm The Cause. If they fought or bickered outright, Mevolent would smash their two heads together. Mevolent was gone though, recently defeated.

It was fine. I'd harmed them, yes, their allies were drawing back, yes, but Mevolent hadn't gone down without a fight. The Sanctuary was weakened. They had called in reinforcements from other countries, but those wouldn't be in Ireland until early morning tomorrow.

Serpine and Baron had one night to finally destroy the Sanctuary, in one blow. Once and for all. So Serpine didn't really have time to waste on pettiness or art, he wanted this war over with, and the Gods back where They belonged.

He stalked past Baron's men, who made care to move to the side for him. Serpine was a thing to see that night. His dark suit filled with bullet holes in the end—thanks to a damn skeleton—his clothes were rumpled, there was dirt on his cheeks and a black bruise from where Skulduggery's fist had landed just before Serpine had gotten out of there, his horse raising away, with Skulduggery hurling fire at him almost faster than he could dodge. The rest of the Dead men had been on the sides, still recovering, but still firing guns quite efficiently. He scowled and knocked on Baron's door, hard. His black hair had been swept from his face the morning before, but now came forward in an endearing way. His emerald green eyes flashed and his high cheekbones and gentle, tall, almost feminine frame was entirely in shadows.

There was a pause behind the door before it opened. A handsome man stood tall and calm in front of it. His hair was a light, ashen blond and his eyes were a deep, slated grey. Underneath his eyes were dark shadows and defeat. Baron.

He looked to be in a stupor. "Baron." Serpine said. "Venegous!" Serpine repeated louder, wanting to shake him. "Whatever your grieving over—" Serpine began but suddenly Baron had a fierce, passionate look in his dark eyes that made Serpine lean back slightly.

"Whatever I'm grieving over? Whatever? Mevolent is dead, Nefarian, and we have no leader—"

Serpine wanted to hit him hard. But Baron might hit him back, and Serpine wasn't a fan of pain. "But we still have our Gods, Baron! Even if our master is dead, our Greater Masters are not!" That seemed to slap some sense into Baron and this time Baron was the one to lean back. Serpine took a step forward, into Baron's personal room. "We still can bring him back, even if we don't have him! The Sanctuary has been weakened, too, Baron. We are not the only ones at a lose. They've lost many men, if we can—"

"And who will lead us?" Baron asked coldly, "You?"

Serpine paused and felt something uncomfortable settle in his stomach. He'd never even given thought to be fully and truly in control of their forces before. It wasn't something that appealed to him. "Or you." He suggested.

"I…" Baron leaned forward, closer to Serpine now. Serpine wanted to take a step back, but that would only lead him further into—with a gulp he realized—was Baron's room. "Could lead you?"

Serpine swallowed a bit. He was not… disinclined… to the images that the purr in Baron's voice was leading him to but… Serpine lifted his head with a cockiness that he didn't feel. "There won't be much of a need for leading if we can take everything tonight…" He began, and startled when Baron smiled.

"Oh? Tonight matters to you that much?" He walked forward. "I've always hated that about you, Nefarian. You're so hopeful. Such an idealist. Passionate. Cruel." We each word, he took a step closer to Serpine. Nefarian wondered if this was all just another trick of Baron's, because they were standing awfully close to the couch, in a way that wouldn't be too unfortunate if they fell back on it.

Serpine lifted his head haughtily and laughed. "The Dark Gods do not wait—"

"They've waited for a long enough time," Baron said blatantly. "That's what Mevolent and I have always understood. Not you, though…"

"If you believe that the Dark Gods don't wait, then perhaps you'll be inclined to believe that War doesn't wait, if we're going to win—"

"I'm not feeling up for it," Baron muttered, and suddenly his hands were on either side of Serpine's narrow waist, and Serpine felt his mouth grow dry. "I think," Baron, purred, "it's time for me to teach you…" He leaned forward and his rough, unshaven chin grazed Serpine's neck, until his lips went down to tease the Serpine's collarbone. Serpine's breath hitched, and Baron laughed low in his chest. "…Some patience…" Baron murmured at last.

Serpine, unable to resist, wanting him quick so he could have both things, the Sanctuary's destruction… and… and… Baron… Serpine moved into Baron and clutched his back encouragingly. Baron laughed again and Serpine growled in frustration. He could tell that Baron wanted him as much as Serpine wanted him, but why wasn't he giving him what they both wanted?

"Screw patience…" Serpine said hotly, turning Baron around so that when they fell, he would be on top, but Baron, laughing, obviously feeling better despite Mevolent's defeat, twisted Serpine so that he was… humiliation of all humiliations! Not only on the bottom, but facedown, too. True, he'd never made love to a man before, but surely it couldn't be too different! "No," Serpine said, his face flushed and his body squirming.

"Patience," Baron muttered, and taught Serpine—the painful way—how to be patient.

Years later, as still no one explained the mysterious screams heard from Baron's room that, scholars and observers of the war never did find out why Serpine and Baron never attacked that night.

Well… they were a bit busy.

Serpine woke up the next morning and threw a hissy fit when he realized that it was morning, the time had passed, until Baron pinned him down again and… er… distracted him away from the war.

Tehe. I 3 LOVE Nefarian Serpine. Believe me, you'll see him in a few chapters into the future.