Voldemort sat at the meeting table, sad and lonely. Life without Quirrell was hell. He had nobody to talk to, nobody to get drunk with and nobody to help get laid! Quirrell had always provided him with such care and love. If only that kiss hadn't of scared him off.
(Some months ago)
Quirrell and Voldemort had just succeeded in becoming detached. They stared into each others eyes as they said goodbye. Then Voldemort felt the urge to kiss those fine lips of Quirrell. Suddenly, the temptation was too powerful. Quirrell fought against him and ran off.
(Present day)
Quirrell was lying on his mattress. he was thinking about Voldemort's kiss. How those damn fine lips tasted good! He wished that he hadn't of run away without no contact. Did Voldy feel the same? Should he go back and declare his love?
Sitting lazily on a chair, Voldemort was crying. Oh how he missed Quirrell with all his heart. How could he lose someone so special so quick. Not knowing where quirrell was upset him. Fresh tears trickled down his face as he remembered the sweet scent of the turban.
Suddenly the door slammed open. Quirrell rushed in and wrapped his arms around Voldemort's neck. Voldemort was happy yet confused to why he had returned after so long. Voldemort looked back, still arm in arm with Quirrell.
"Why are you here" he asked in a whisper.
"This is why" Quirrell replied almost instantly
Then Quirrell planted a long but passionate kiss on Voldemort's lips. Voldemort let himself be seduced and returned the kiss. Some time later, they broke apart smiling and giggling. This was the beginning of a long, tricky road.