This chapter turned out to be pretty sexy. I guess I just have Quirrellmort smut on the brain. There's nothing too explicit or anything, but more so than the other chapters. Enjoy!

"Have you brushed your teeth properly?"

"Uh-huh!" Wang Mu grinned widely at Quirrell to prove it. "All ready!"

"That's my girl. You're excited about going to the dentist, huh?"

"Makes one of us." Voldemort grumbled, clearly still in a mood as he shrugged on his jacket. "This is so stupid."

"Getting a check-up at the dentist is hardly stupid." Quirrell scolded, helping Wang Mu with her shoes. "Set a good example."

"Papa's just scared." Wang Mu sang playfully. "But I'm gonna get a sticker!"

"Judging by how perfect your teeth are, you definitely will." Quirrell agreed. "Come on, then. Let's go to the car."

"I'm not scared." Voldemort felt the need to say, though he remained standing in the hallway with his arms folded. "I just…I don't like the dentist. They're always on at me."

Quirrell rolled his eyes. "Not this again."

"It's true! Last time I went they told me I should get a brace for my stupid gap!"

"The miniscule, adorable gap between your front teeth? Honey, can you please get over this?"

"I'm not getting a brace, Quirrell! And I'm not going to get prodded with metal objects in my mouth!"

At that, Wang Mu began to look distinctly uncertain. "Metal…objects?"

"Just a little mirror, baby." Quirrell assured her. "They have to check the back of your teeth and stuff, that's all. There's nothing scary about it."

"I might stay." Wang murmured, "I don't really need to go."

"Oh, hey, no." Voldemort finally approached her, kneeling down so he was at her eye level. "Ignore me, I'm being silly. You're heaps braver than me. Nothing scary is going to happen, he'll just take a little look then we'll come right back home. Me and Daddy will be there with you too, ok?"

Wang Mu paused to consider it, before slowly nodding. "I'm really brave."

"Without a doubt." Voldemort held out his hand and she gave him a high-five. "You're getting strong, too! That almost hurt."

"Really?" She asked, beaming proudly.

"Totally." He lied, getting back to his feet and holding out his hand. "Let's go to this dentist!"

Quirrell was grinning at him in a way that suggested Voldemort was going to get extremely lucky later on. "Amazing parenting skills." He murmured to him as they left the house.

"Don't you know it."

XxX

Voldemort fidgeted on the uncomfortable waiting room chair, scuffing his shoes against the floor as he stared at the clock. His turn was next, and he was already dreading it.

"You know you're not going to get tortured, right?" Quirrell asked him calmly, glancing through one of the magazines.

"I'm not entirely convinced, actually."

"Look, if Wang Mu went in without a fuss and didn't mind us waiting out here, you'll be more than ok. Is something else bothering you?"

Voldemort shrugged, glancing down at his knees. "No."

"There's obviously something – Oh jeez!" Quirrell's jaw dropped slightly as he showed the magazine to Voldemort. "I'm in this one!"

"Oh my God," Voldemort instantly snatched it from him, positively beaming when he saw how handsome Quirrell looked. "Modelling suits, huh? I'm the luckiest man alive."

"Holy crap." Quirrell couldn't stop staring. "I look good. I didn't realise these adverts were gonna be in other magazines!"

"You look better than good. Now everyone can know how handsome my husband is. If I didn't have an appointment, I'd take advantage of this situation and make wild love to you in one of the empty rooms."

Quirrell blushed fiercely, grabbing the magazine back. "We're too old to fuck in public anymore."

"Speak for yourself! We're in our prime."

"We're parents. Y'know, we're responsible adults." Quirrell attempted, but he bit his lip as he admired Voldemort.

Voldemort slyly looked at the clock again. "Mhmm…"

"Wait." Quirrell said suddenly, and pointed an accusing finger at him. "No, I know what this is! You just want to miss your appointment!"

"What?" Voldemort attempted to scoff. "No! I mean, I do want to miss my appointment, but I obviously want to have sex with you too."

"We're not missing this appointment."

Voldemort raised his eyebrows suggestively. "Well, then we have fifteen minutes."

XxX

"Oh, oh, God, oh my God!"

"Ssh!" Voldemort warned, but he couldn't help but giggle a little. "We're keeping quiet, remember?"

Quirrell bit his lip hard to stop himself from moaning. "Kinda – hard!"

"No pun intended?"

"Shut up and fuck me!"

"Yeah, yeah, what do you think I'm warming up to?" Voldemort breathed back before continuing to suck and bite at Quirrell's neck, pushing him against the wall as one hand reached to rub the obvious bulge in Quirrell's pants.

"You're too slow!" Quirrell whined, before moaning again, gripping onto Voldemort's shoulders. "Your – appointment is –"

"Screw the appointment, this is way more important."

Quirrell growled, pushing him back slightly, lovebites already prominent on his neck. "You fucker, I knew this whole thing was a ploy!"

"Ah, hush your mouth, I'm a man of my word." Voldemort retorted, dropping to his knees and tugging down Quirrell's pants. "I reckon I can make you come in five minutes, what do you think?"

Quirrell seemingly thought it over. "Depends if you use your hand or your mouth."

"Mouth." Voldemort decided, already fumbling with Quirrell's underwear.

"Then it'll be less than five minutes, trust me." Was all Quirrell managed to say, before he realised something and hastily pushed Voldemort's head back. "Oh, no, come on! You can't tempt me with a blowjob when you know damn well we can't! Your appointment."

"Ugh!" Voldemort groaned in annoyance, resisting the urge to hit the ground in frustration. "Quirrell, you're killing me!"

"Not as much as you're killing me!" Quirrell protested. "Now I'm all wound up with nothing to show for it. Thanks a bunch. Get up, this is ridiculous."

Voldemort sulkily got back to his feet as Quirrell pulled his pants up. "You have the chance to finish yourself off. You're not the one with the dentist appointment."

"Oh, that's nice." Quirrell rolled his eyes. "We went from 'Sure, I'll fuck you in public!' to, quite literally, 'go fuck yourself'. What a loving husband you are."

Voldemort had the decency to look embarrassed. "Sorry, Squirrel. I – Obviously I'll help you out once we're home."

Quirrell sighed slightly, still looking very unimpressed. "Let's just get out of here. Wang will be finished any second."

"Aw, don't be mad at me, love. I said I'd help you out." Voldemort insisted as Quirrell unlocked the door. "I'm nervous about this stupid dentist, ok? I don't want to go!"

"And there's something else on your mind." Quirrell said as they made their way back to the waiting room, Quirrell self-consciously rubbing his marked neck as they took their seats again. "But whatever. You'll come out with it eventually."

At that moment, Wang Mu came running out of the room, followed by the dentist as she proudly displaying the sticker on her shirt. "Lookit, Daddies! It says I'm a star."

"Hey, Dr. Rosa knows what's up." Quirrell grinned, glancing up at the dentist. "Everything ok?"

"Perfect." She smiled back. "No problems whatsoever. Are you alright to come in?" She directed the question at Voldemort, who visibly shrank back in his seat.

"Uh…"

"Oh, go on," Quirrell smirked at him. "Maybe you'll get a sticker too, if you're good."

"Shut up," Voldemort mumbled, slowly getting to his feet as if moving pained him. "Y'know, doc, I'm really fine with the gap between my front teeth."

"This is just a check-up, Mr. Quirrell." She reminded him politely. "I'm not doing anything drastic."

"My teeth are super clean. Ask anybody."

The dentist's smile became slightly strained; she was clearly used to such resistance. "This really won't take long."

"It's fun, Papa," Wang Mu insisted. "Honest. The chair moves an'…an' there's a big light."

"Can't say no to that." Voldemort muttered, before reluctantly following the dentist, shooting one last helpless glance at Quirrell as he did so.

Quirrell gave him an encouraging smile before stroking back Wang Mu's hair. "Perfect teeth, huh? Is there anything you're not good at?"

"No, not really." Wang replied seriously, before frowning as she peered closer. "Daddy, you've got a hurt."

"What?"

"Right here." She pointed at his neck. "And here. And here too! What did'ya do, Daddy?"

"Oh!" Quirrell hastily brought his hand up to the lovebites. Shit. "Um, oh, that's funny. I'm not sure. They're not sore, don't worry."

She scrutinized him carefully. "Looks like a lotta hurts."

"Nah, probably just me being dumb. I think I just…wore a scarf too tight, or…Hey, look, I'm in this magazine!" He hastily picked up the magazine, flicking to the page the advert was in and presenting it to her. Sure enough, it did the trick. Her eyes widened and she gasped, pointing at it forcefully.

"Daddy! Are you famous?"

I used to be, for all the wrong reasons. "Maybe I am." He mused, admiring himself again. Damn, he looked good in a suit. "It's pretty cool, right?"

"So cool!" She insisted. "You should…do movies."

"One step at a time."

"I can tell everyone when I start school on Monday!" She beamed, looking up at him with sheer excitement. "I can't waaait!"

"I know! Your first day at big school, it's awesome!" Quirrell grinned back. "No more playgroup for you, baby."

"Daddy, I'm not a baby, remember? I'm at big school really soon."

"Uh-huh, sure thing." Quirrell replied fondly. "You're right. I guess I should stop calling you it now, huh?"

She pouted for a few moments, before nodding carefully.

"Ok, then." Quirrell said nonchalantly, folding up the magazine. "That's fair enough. And here's your Papa!"

Voldemort hurriedly approached them, practically dragging Quirrell to his feet. "Holy crap, it took so long, I was freaking out!"

"Language."

"It took ages! I thought she'd found a cavity or something, I almost passed out!"

"But it's all good?" Quirrell asked expectantly. "No issues?"

"Yeah, yeah, it's fine. Perfectly clean, like I said. Can we go?"

"If it's all ok, I guess we're all set." Quirrell nodded as Wang Mu hopped down from her chair.

"No sticker, Papa?"

"Nope." Voldemort admitted. "I guess I wasn't as good as you were."

She sighed, as if she'd expected as much, before skipping ahead.

"She asked about these damn lovebites." Quirrell said in an undertone as they followed her. "You're gonna be in trouble for that later."

"But you love it when I give you lovebites. You practically demand them."

"I know. Still, bad timing. Usually I can cover them up." Quirrell took his hand, giving it a small squeeze. "Hey, well done. You did it!"

"Just about," He rolled his eyes. "Took everything I had not to bite her fingers when she poked around in my mouth. It's so…weird. Besides, we both know what else I'd rather have in my mouth right now."

"You're a crude man, y'know that?"

"Ah, you love me anyway."

Quirrell laughed as he unlocked the car. "I'd be an idiot not to."

XxX

There was definitely something bothering Voldemort, and no matter how many times Quirrell attempted to coax it out of him, he remained stonily silent on the issue. Quirrell had been convinced once the dentist check-up was out of the way Voldemort would open up, but no change. Which called for some drastic measures.

"I want to do something for you." Quirrell announced, standing at the foot of the bed. Voldemort was lying down, watching something on his phone, but he glanced up at Quirrell's voice.

"I was just about to go to sleep, actually…"

"Oh, no, no sleep! Sleep is for the weak." Quirrell insisted, though he found himself glancing at the clock and wincing. God damn it, he had work in the morning. "Why would you sleep when you can watch me give you a striptease?"

"That's fair enough." Voldemort immediately propped himself up. "What's brought this sudden gesture of kindness on?"

"It's not just any striptease." Quirrell told him, as he slowly began to unbutton his shirt. "The more information you give me, the more I take off my clothes. Let's start with an easy one: what month is my birthday?"

"Are you for real?" Voldemort had to ask. "Is this a pop quiz as well as a striptease?"

"Knowledge is sexy, isn't it?"

Voldemort rolled his eyes at him. "September."

Quirrell slid off his shirt, throwing it to the floor. "There we go! Next question, for the removal of my pants. What does Gilderoy Lockhart call the Philosopher's Stone?"

"Oh! Uh…" Voldemort eagerly moved forwards so that he was sitting on the edge of the bed for a better view. "The Sorcerer's Stone?"

"Damn, it's almost too easy." Quirrell smirked, and soon his pants were off too. He moved closer, wrapping his arms around Voldemort's neck. "So now the big question. Answer it, you can take my underwear off yourself."

Voldemort grinned at him. "Oh, yeah? Hit me."

"What's bothering you?"

Voldemort's expression abruptly soured, and he pushed Quirrell back slightly. "Oh, screw you, was this all a big plot? How many times? Nothing is bothering me!"

"So you keep saying, but I'm not buying it!" Quirrell folded his arms, staring him down. "Why won't you talk to me? Please. I want to help."

Voldemort huffed, going back to his side of the bed and closing his eyes. "Clear your things away. At least fold the shirt up or it'll get all crumpled."

"Voldemort!"

"Goodnight." Voldemort said pointedly, switching off the bedside light. Quirrell hesitated, before slowly picking up his clothes from the floor. As he moved to put them away, he found himself mumbling:

"Is it something I've done?"

There was a long silence, before Quirrell heard Voldemort sit up again. "No. No, no, it's nothing like that. I promise."

Progress. Quirrell approached the bed, sliding in next to him. Voldemort immediately pulled him close to him, placing his hand on the back of Quirrell's head.

"It's…Stupid." Voldemort admitted gruffly. "And there's nothing I can do about it."

"If it's upsetting you, it can't be stupid. You can tell me."

Voldemort nuzzled his face in Quirrell's neck, inhaling deeply. "It's…Wang Mu is starting school soon. Which is great, obviously, but…But she won't be home as much anymore. I'll be alone again during the day until you both get back. That's all."

"You're sad about her starting school?"

"I guess. See? Stupid."

"It's not stupid. It actually makes perfect sense! Oh, thank God." Quirrell sighed in relief. "I thought something was seriously wrong. Ok, now let's go over this. Wang Mu has to start primary school – in fact, she's ready for it. You've heard her, she's so excited."

"I know." Voldemort mumbled. "So I feel shitty."

"Don't! This is going to be difficult for the both of you. She's used to being at home a lot, and you're used to having her here. Going from playgroup to a full day of school is a big step. It's totally normal to feel sad about it. I bet she's a little sad too."

Voldemort stayed quiet for a moment. "I'll be fine. I mean, it's not like I don't have anything to do, I'm busy enough. It just feels weird."

"Yeah, and that's understandable." Quirrell assured him. "Why didn't you just tell me? You don't have to keep everything bottled up like this."

"I told you. It sounds stupid. And selfish."

Quirrell huffed a small laugh. "Honestly? If something is bothering you, just tell me. I'm your husband. I'm your best friend. I'm not gonna judge you, especially not over something like this."

Quirrell felt, rather than saw, Voldemort's smile. "I think I cut you off a bit prematurely. Do you want to finish that striptease for me?"

"I'm over the teasing." Quirrell replied, pressing himself against him. "I think we can go right ahead now."