The two men stood there, tongues practically touching their knees as they hissed maniacally at one another. It looked as if they each had a long, wet tentacle throbbing and stretching, straining and whipping furiously around their heads. Suddenly, one man's tongue snapped back, curling into the s- shaped attack form of a snake about to strike.

"Who are you," hissed Voldemort at the man who had glided from the woods onto the boundaries of his secret hideaway. His tongue remained poised to attack, making the question an effort.

"Your reaper," Orochimaru hissed back, the corners of his mouth curling up while his snake eyes revealed nothing.

Voldemort released the spell that made his tongue snake-like in the first place and gently closed his mouth, amazed at the other man's skill with wet, flapping appendages. "My reaper, that's comical. You obviously have no idea who I am--if you did, I doubt you'd be so cocky."

"Oh, I'm definitely not cocky," Orochimaru laughed, his tongue still slithering around his jaw line like some alien creature, but his stance relaxing.

Voldemort looked the other man over carefully. His eyes were snake-like, as was his tongue... could it be he'd found another heir to Salazar Slytherin? He looked more like the heir of the basilisk itself. The stranger definitely had a mysterious beauty about him though, and now that Voldemort had regained a human body, he realized he was no longer immune to the predatory lust from days of old.

Orochimaru stood there with a smug grin on his face. This man was nothing, his tongue wasn't even real, it was a spell. He'd felt the other man's release of power with satisfaction. "I truly don't have all day just to stand around and be admired," his tongue slid beneath the neckline of his tunic, "that kind of time wasting is being saved until I have attained immortality."

"Ah," whispered Voldemort, "immortality." His memory flashed back to the night where the Sorcerer's Stone had been within his reach, causing anger to course through his body. "Potter..." he muttered to himself.

Orochimaru's eyes narrowed; obviously his adversary had experience in the field of immortality. Suddenly, the Legendary Ninja was incredibly interested. "Potter?" he asked, tilting his head and letting his long black hair cascade over his shoulder, creating a silky black curtain of curiosity.

Voldemort sighed unintentionally at hearing the name again and looked up. His heart seemed to skip. There before him stood the same man, but somehow, he was different. His face was set with something that leaned towards a snake showing compassion. Voldemort found himself lingering on the silky hair, the alabaster skin, the slender waist and delicate wrists. He's beautiful, thought Voldemort, simply beautiful. "Say, you wouldn't happen to have a name, would you?"

"My name is Orochimaru, that should be enough," Orochimaru watched him, waiting for the reaction he was used to when he mentioned his name, but it never came.

"Hmm, strange name, but then again, so is mine. I am Lord Voldemort," Voldemort leaned back, waiting to hear Orochimaru gasp when he realized he was in the presence of the greatest dark wizard in the history of wizarding, but nothing happened. "Haven't you heard of me?"

"No, haven't you heard of me?" Orochimaru was befuddled--never had he gone anywhere that his reputation hadn't preceded him. With a sly smile and a shrug of his shoulders, he shook the insult off and walked over to sit on a large rock next to Voldemort. Looking up from under heavy eyelids, Orochimaru slid his hand to the empty space beside him and began stroking the rock.

Voldemort didn't have to be invited twice. It had been years since he'd had this kind of opportunity. Sure, there was always Pettigrew, but who could get aroused by that? Lucius could be fun at times, but Voldemort was sick and tired of being stuck with nelly bottoms. Already he could tell; Orochimaru would give him a good fight, never mind that he had a beauty that came close to rivaling that of Voldemort himself.

As Voldemort sat down, Orochimaru leaned in and slid his tongue along the other man's neck, curling it up and tickling the back of his ear. Voldemort let out a low moan and turned to his new companion, opening his mouth, but Orochimaru reached out with a delicate finger and laid it across the other's lips. "I don't want you speaking..." Orochimaru whispered, "unless I tell you to."

That's going a bit far, Voldemort thought, I may not want a bottom, but I definitely don't want to become one myself . "Listen, Orochimaru, Lord Voldemort most certainly does not take orders from the likes of you." As he said this, Voldemort edged his hand under the rim of Orochimaru's tunic, then shot his arm forcefully forward, reaching for the throbbing sperm snake between the other's legs.

Orochimaru smiled, the look on Voldemort's face was priceless, "What? Is something wrong?"

Voldemort's eyes were like full moons of disbelief, "There's... but you're... but there's no... but you're a... but..."

Orochimaru cut him off, "A man, yes, that's where you're correct. Where you're incorrect lies within that bulging brain between your legs. Your stiff salute was all for naught. I care little for the love of men."

"Huh? You're a lesbian?!" Voldemort pulled back his hand, but not quickly enough to escape Orochimaru getting a hold on his wrist.

Orochimaru threw back his head and laughed. "Yes," he said, wiping tears from his eyes, "yes, I am the world's greatest lesbian, and since we've established that I'm not interested in you sexually, there must be something else." Orochimaru's eyes twinkled with malice, he could hardly wait to have a penis again. Voldemort was beautiful in all respects and would do nicely.

"Something else?" Voldemort asked.

Leaning in, Orochimaru whispered, "Yes, I don't want your mind, I want your body."