A/N: There must be something wrong with me. I've been working on WIPs upon WIPs on my iPod Touch for months, and yet, when I get this sudden little smut!fic idea, it's done in fourteen hours (including 9 hours of sleep). Sure, there's not much other than smut (and not even the very graphic smut that I usually write), and there's a crapload of fluff at the end, but hey, at least I finished something!

Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, it'd be a bunch of smut.

Warnings: anal, AU-ish, cursing/cussing, fluff, inappropriate use of pasta (wow, I just realized how much it got violated here), mentions of human slaves/cross-dressing/humiliation kinks, OOC!Voldemort, yaoi/slash/LVHP


"Mm, go make my food, pet."

Harry seethed. Yeah, so he failed in killing Voldemort and the Light lost. But really? Did the Dark Lord really have to take him in as his own personal pet? Slave, he corrected himself darkly. You're just a slave.

"Yes, Master," Harry murmured. Well, it wasn't like there was a point in being disobedient anymore. There simply wasn't anything left to fight for. He stood up from his kneeling position at the man's feet, his bell collar tinkling softly. As he passed Voldemort, the man looked up from his book and grinned, curling a hand around Harry's tail and stroking it.

Harry's yelp was instantaneous. He narrowed a glare at the Dark Lord, cat ears flat on his head, and yanked his tail away from him. Damn him! It was humiliating enough to be taken as Voldemort's slave, but honestly! Was it really necessary to magically alter Harry's body so that he had cat ears and a tail to match? Those things were still sensitive, dammit!

"I'd prefer pasta today, kitten." Amused red eyes glinted when Harry bristled at the nickname. A hand ran through chestnut locks, and Harry found himself unable to hate the man for getting his old looks back. Damn, he looked hot.

Harry mentally shook himself. "Yes, Master," he replied shortly, storming off to the kitchen. Oh, he wanted to make him pay.

Pasta, was it? Harry smirked. Now wasn't that a good idea?

Harry quickly got out all the materials he'd need to make some pasta dish with an Alfredo sauce. He silently thanked his days at the Dursley's for giving him some sort of cooking experience because otherwise he'd be screwed while cooking for the Dark Lord. He absentmindedly threw the pasta into the water once it started boiling, and then he turned to work on the actual sauce.

Ohh, revenge had never seemed so sweet.

There were all the ingredients—cream, milk, Parmesan cheese, some simple seasonings—, but it was missing one thing. Harry surreptitiously glanced around the kitchen, making sure no one could see what he was about to do. Choke on this, Voldemort!

He licked his palm for a while before taking his dick in hand. He didn't have any clothes on since the Dark Lord never allowed him to wear any at home, and that only helped his scheme. Harry hastily stroked himself; he had to make sure he finished soon enough so that his master wouldn't get suspicious.

Spurring himself on with thoughts of Voldemort eating food with his cum in it, Harry finished himself off and came into the bowl. He grimaced slightly as he cleaned himself and allowed his breathing to even out a bit. He finished cooking, adding a few extra touches here and there.

"Master?" Harry called out. "The food's done."

"Bring it to the table," Voldemort responded from the next room. Harry did as he was told, forcing himself to wipe of the smug smirk on his face. He placed the food on the dining table before going back to the kitchen to grab some eating utensils. As soon as he placed those down, however, elegant hands held him at the waist.

Harry tensed. "Master?"

"Sit with me today, pet," Voldemort replied softly. He pulled a slightly reluctant Harry to his lap, arranging the teen until he was satisfied. A strong arm was curled around Harry's lower back, and he found himself unable to resist the warmth of the Dark Lord. Harry leaned his head against a broad shoulder, green eyes fluttering shut.

Something warm and nice-smelling was pressed against Harry's lips, and he opened his mouth and accepted it before he quite realized what was happening. It wasn't until he had swallowed before he remembered—oh, shit, I came in that! At least it didn't taste any different from normal...

Smirking lips hovered beside Harry's ear. "How many times did you cum in my food, kitten?" Voldemort whispered.

Harry froze. "O-Once," he stuttered. Oh, fuck, he was so screwed. "Only once, Master. How... How did you...?"

"Never let it be said that the Dark Lord Voldemort ignores his most precious possessions." Harry found himself bring fed more food while he was still in shock at being found out.

"I'm sorry, Master," Harry whimpered. "It was just a joke, really!"

"Hush, pet." Harry watched dazedly as Voldemort speared some pasta with his fork and ate it. He blushed. The man knew, and he still ate it! "It's okay, kitten. I'm not mad." He held up another forkful at Harry's mouth and continued to speak while Harry ate. "Though if you really wanted to get your cum down my throat that bad, you could've just asked. Is that what you wanted, kitten? Having me lick and suck and tease you until you can't help but release in my mouth?"

Harry squirmed. Fuck, that man's voice was always such a turn on! And those words...! He shook his head, clutching onto black robes as he buried his face against a smooth neck. "No, Master," he whispered.

"No?" Voldemort echoed, reaching up to stroke Harry's hair and ears. "You don't want me to blow you, then?" His fingers trailed downward until both hands lingered on slim hips. "Or maybe you just like being fucked too much. Is that it, kitten? Would you rather me fuck you?"

Harry wished his breathing wasn't so shallow. He was already hard again, just from hearing the man whisper words into his ear. He just knew his tail was out of control now, flicking around in random directions like it always did whenever he was horny. "Whatever is most pleasing to you, Master," he said breathily.

The Dark Lord chuckled. "What a wonderful pet I have," he mused. "Always wishing to please me first. Good pets deserve rewards, don't they, Harry?" Fingers slipped beneath his tail to tease his opening.

Harry gasped. "But Master," he protested. "I... I came in your food." He could have slapped himself. What was wrong with him? He was being offered a free fuck here! No strings attached; no cross-dressing, no humiliating poses or requests, no begging, no punishment beforehand.

"Is there anything wrong with that?" Voldemort asked, slipping in two fingers to stretch Harry. The teen shook his head, gasping and moaning as the fingers probed him. "Then I don't see why you're still bringing it up. Though, to tell you the truth, I find it endearing that you'd go to such lengths for my lunch."

Harry cried out as his prostate was assaulted, fiercely grinding down onto the man's lap. Merlin, he was always so turned on when the Dark Lord was being gentle and indulgent like right now. It was so hot and amazing because he knew no one else was treated like this by Voldemort.

Another finger joined the two in Harry, and he mewled at the feeling. Voldemort usually never took the time to prepare him, so today felt extra special. He rubbed himself against the man, nipping and nuzzling the neck before him to show how grateful he was.

"How big do you think that plate is, Harry?" The teen in question looked up in confusion. What the hell did Voldemort mean by that? Before he could ask, he was picked up and placed on the table.

"Fuck!" It was warm and gooey and slippery and utterly weird. Harry warily reached a hand down to touch the substance before bringing it back up to his face to examine it. Yep. Just like he thought. Voldemort planted him butt-first into the pasta. At least his tail didn't seem to get involved in the mess.

"Hm. Bigger than I expected." Blood red eyes trailed over Harry's nude body. "Do you think I can fuck you on it, pet?" he asked.

"I certainly hope so," Harry grumbled. "I feel like if I get up, a whole bunch of pasta will just start falling off my butt." He sent a half-hearted glare at the chuckling Dark Lord and pouted. "Meanie."

Voldemort carded his fingers through Harry's pitch black hair. "You're such an amazing little thing, Harry," he murmured. "I am so proud to have you by my side."

Harry flushed, placing a few open-mouthed kisses along Voldemort's jaw to distract himself. Someone was certainly in a good mood today. "Stop stalling," he chastised.

"Yes, darling. I must say, I love the way you look when you blush. It's almost as satisfying as the look you get on your face while you're cumming. Or the look on your face after a round of good sex." A hand curled itself around Harry's member, and he jerked, squishing the pasta underneath him as he writhed with pleasure.

"That feels so weird," Harry muttered when Voldemort finally decided to let him go. He panted, eyes glued to the man in front of him as he began disrobing himself. He fidgeted on top of the plate, blinking in wonder as some pasta managed to worm its way between his arse cheeks. "Did we really have to do this on top of the pasta?" he grumbled.

"Just trying something new, kitten," Voldemort responded. He placed a hand on Harry's cheek and drew him in for a short kiss before breaking away and scrutinizing the plate. "I don't think it'd be comfortable to lie back on that," he mumbled to himself, wandlessly transfiguring the plate into, well, a bigger plate.

Harry blinked. Well, this was new. "Did something good happen today?" he asked, forehead scrunching up as he thought.

Voldemort looked back up at his face. "Why do you think that, kitten?" he asked. He nudged at the teen's chest until he was comfortingly lying on top of the plate—well, as comfortable as one can get while lying on top of pasta.

"You're... You're being nice today," Harry said in wonder, blinking up at the Dark Lord. "A-And you care about my comfort, and I haven't been punished once yet." He drew in a few shaky breaths as hands stroked his skin. "It's... different."

"Mm. Indeed," was all Voldemort said before he gently thrust his way into Harry's opening. The teen moaned, wrapping his legs around the other's waist. He twitched a little as he felt the Dark Lord's cock hover right next to his prostate, as if it was teasing him. It slid out slowly, only to slide back even slower.

"Faster," he demanded. Voldemort grinned, obeying his pet but purposely missing his pleasure spot each time. "Don't tease," Harry whined. It was odd enough to have his arse roughly caressing the pasta with every thrust, but what was with Voldemort today? No snarling? No fierce possessiveness? No animalistic urge to make his pet cry out and writhe in pleasure?

A hand wrapped itself around Harry's dick, and he arched, gasping for breath as it stroked him lazily. "No!" he shrieked, batting Voldemort's hand away. "Do not touch me there until you hit my prostate!" Somewhere in the back of his mind, Harry knew he was being irrational, but the other man just leered at him.

Voldemort leaned forward, covering Harry's body with his own and making the teen press against the warm and squishy pasta some more. "Is that what you want, pet?" he whispered into Harry's ear. "You want me to fuck you good and hard and hit you right here?"

Harry yelped as Voldemort ground his cock against his prostate and panted out, "Again."

The Dark Lord just laughed and took Harry's dick into hand again. "No, I don't particularly think I want to," he murmured with sadistic glee, shallowly thrusting in and out of the teen's passage but never hitting there. Harry shuddered as a thumb wiped across his slit, but he wasn't satisfied.

"I said don't touch me there!" Harry snapped, half-heartedly attempting to stop the pleasurable, warm, oh-so-good... Oh, who was he kidding? He slumped against the pasta, defeated.

"No, pet," Voldemort replied smugly. "You said I couldn't touch you there unless I hit your prostate. And I did. You just never specified how many times." Green eyes glared at him.

"Don't play with me," Harry growled. He clenched around the man as he slid out again, watching with narrowed eyes as Voldemort shivered. The man smirked lazily and stopped altogether, causing Harry to scream in outrage.

"No, I've got to play with my kitten often," he countered. "I've got to make sure he's properly entertained and exercised everyday, don't I?" His hand ghosted across Harry's skin.

"I am this close," Harry whispered, "to flipping you over and riding you while you deal with this damn pasta so you better get your damn act together and fuck me properly!"

"Ooh," Voldemort taunted. "So my beloved kitten does have claws." He slammed back into Harry, hitting his prostate with deadly accuracy. "That's good, darling, because I love it when you're feisty."

"That certainly explains a lot," Harry mumbled, thinking back to all the times when his master would purposely aggravate him until he was screaming at the other and being an overall disobedient kitty. He felt his tail flick around, launching some unfortunate pasta into wayward directions across the room. He lost himself to just feeling then, content as his master drove into him good and hard.

"You look like a purring cat, darling," Voldemort remarked. "Except you moan instead of purr." He leaned in to lick Harry's cheek, not stopping the movement of his cock and hand. The teen blinked dazedly and then shrugged at the Dark Lord's words, wrapping his arms around his master.

"I like you better when you're nice," Harry murmured softly. He fidgeted a little in the pasta. "But I wish we could've stuck with the bed instead of a plate of food." He drew the man's earlobe into his mouth, happily sucking on it as he was fucked. He always felt warm and safe in the Dark Lord's arms, regardless of his ever-changing moods.

"I'll make it up to you, kitten," Voldemort replied softly. Harry just nodded and hugged him some more. It didn't take much before the teen came all over his belly with a loud cry, spasmodically clenching around the Dark Lord. The man grunted and pulled out, releasing right next to Harry's opening and all over the pasta.

Harry grimaced. "I like it better when you come in me," he said sulkily. "It makes me feel better."

Voldemort laughed and removed the legs still wrapped around his waist. "I like that better too, pet," he admitted. "But now we've both cum in the pasta. And we're both going to finish it later. Alright, kitten?" Harry flushed but nodded. "Good. Now stay still." The teen sighed in contentment as Voldemort licked the drying cum off of him, his tail wrapped around his thigh. He was flipped over onto his hands and knees above the plate as the man worked on cleaning his backside with his tongue. When he finished, he picked Harry up bridal-style and walked away from the dining room.

"Where are we going?" Harry asked, ears twitching in interest. He snuggled against a warm chest, leaning his head on one shoulder and placing his hand on the other.

"The bathroom. What, you think my tongue counts as a proper cleaning?" the Dark Lord teased. Harry cuffed him playfully, eliciting a laugh from the man.

As Harry was let down once they reached the showers, he couldn't contain his curiosity anymore. "So what's really gotten you into such a good mood today?" he asked.

Voldemort smiled at him, reaching up to stroke Harry's ears. "I realized that I love my pet kitten very much," he murmured, moving to turn on the water.

Harry grinned, even while he was blushing like a tomato. He tackled the Dark Lord, unable to stop himself from glomping and cuddling against him. "I'll have you know," he whispered. "The kitten feels the same for his master."

The smile Harry got for that sentence was absolutely breath-taking.


A/N: Now, I really don't know how to cook (at all), but it was still fun writing this. And since you're all the way down here reading my notes, you might as well drop a review, right? ;)