Disclaimer: Don't sue me, I take no credit for what is not mine.

Warnings: A quick mention of… "love-making." Yes, let's call it that. xD And fluffiness, of course!

A/N: I've decided to make this a series of drabbles/little oneshots. I have no idea when I'll update, but I will as soon as an idea comes to me and I can type it up. :) When I suddenly got this (kinda clichéd) idea, I decided that I'd type it up and post it. Hope you enjoy it! Oh, and it contains reference to my other Quirrellmort oneshot, "Not This Again!" So if you haven't read that, part of this won't make sense.

Where's Quirrell? Voldemort pondered, wandering into the kitchen of the small cottage that he and the before-mentioned man shared. It was a nice little place out in the country, away from any other humans. The ex-Dark Lord had given up his evil deeds, but people still hated him (which wasn't that much of a surprise, considering he almost made the whole Wizarding World fall apart).

Entering the small kitchen, he immediately saw Quirrell hunched over the counter. He was holding a spoon over a medium-sized bowl full of a brown, gooey substance. A large, thick book lay open next to the bowl in front of him.

"What's that, Quirrell?" Voldemort's voice had just a hint of confusion layered underneath pure curiosity.

"Oh, hi, it's you!" the other man turned around and laughed a little nervously, having been startled by Voldemort's sudden presence. "I'm making brownies! The Muggle way!"

"… Huh?"

Quirrell amusedly laughed this time, rolling his eyes at his lover's confused and skeptical look. "Brownies. They're a baked, chocolate sweet that Muggles make. And I wanted to give it a try, not using any magic." (A/N: Yes, I'm sure wizards make brownies too. But just go with it for the sake of the story.)

"Well that's stupid, not using any magic," Voldemort snorted. Quirrell locked eyes with him, a sad, hurt expression on his face. "Aw, you I love you! And I'm sure you're 'brownies' will taste great."

Quirrell smiled, turning back to his baking supplies. "Well, I'm done with this, just need to bake it!" He fiddled through the drawers; finally he pulled out a baking pan and slowly poured the mixture into it.

"Hey Quirrell… can I lick the spoon?"

A short, chirped "Nope" was the only response the brown-eyed man gave as he slid the brownie pan in the oven, batter-covered spoon still in the bowl that sat on the counter.

"What? Why not!"

"Because, you made me get up and put away my clothes when I was almost asleep! This is a little thing called karma," Quirrell smiled.

"More like revenge," Voldemort muttered. "You know, I can still threaten you with sex!" He warned after a moment.

"I. Don't. Care. You are not going to lick that spoon!" Quirrell told him sternly, a laugh sneaking into the last part of what he said.

A look of frustration and contemplation emerged on Voldemort's face. Then, a figurative light bulb appeared over his head and he began to walk smugly towards Quirrell.

"What are you doi-"

But Quirrell's inquiry was cut short by a pair of lips descending onto his.

"Mm!" he huffed, closing his eyes, as Voldemort gently pushed him against the counter. Right after he wrapped his arm's around his lover's waist, he thought he felt Voldemort's arm reach around him. What is he doing?

Suddenly, there was no body pressed against his, no lips touching his, only air. "Wha-?"

When he opened his yes, there stood Voldemort a few yards away, licking brownie batter off a spoon, smugness emanating from him.

"You really are still evil."

"Yeah…"

A/N: There we go! :) Did you catch that last bit that was in my other oneshot? The part with Quirrell calling Voldemort evil? No? Darn.

I hope you liked reading that – I have to say, it was rather fun to write! ^^ Please, please, please REVIEW! :D