Naruto/Harry Potter crossover: The Price of Immortality (NC-17 Orochimaru/Voldemort)
Holiday request #4. Ended up being rather long since I decided the porn needed some plot.
The Price of Immortality
Author: Qaddafi the Ripper
Fandom: Naruto / Harry Potter crossover
Summary: Orochimaru/Voldemort smut for Laura. Because two villains who love snakes should have lots of kinky fun together. Beware LOTS of adult content here!
Notes: This is, without question, the kinkiest thing I've ever written. Laura, you'd better like it!
Voldemort stared across the table at his blind date, and wondered how he'd gotten involved in such a Muggle concept. Take a little time for yourself, Lucius had suggested. Go out and relax with someone you don't know. Have a tasty meal and maybe get laid. What was the point in being a powerful evil lord if you don't take any time out to have fun? The advice had sounded good, and, having thought that a stranger was a more likely companion than anyone he knew, he took Peter's suggestion to use a dating service. He'd answered a few questions about himself - being careful to leave out anything about his being a wizard, though he didn't mind other people knowing he had aims towards conquering the world - and a few questions about what he'd like in a partner.
He recalled now some of his answers. He'd said he wanted someone active and intelligent. He'd said he wanted someone mature and experienced. He'd said he wanted someone who liked power of any kind, a preferably got turned on by it. He'd said he wanted someone who also liked snakes.
He got someone who met all those criteria, and he wished he knew how that had happened.
He had to admit, Orochimaru was good looking. He liked the pale skin, the long dark hair, and the slit eyes. He also liked the black, snake-patterned kimono the other man was wearing. What had surprised him more had been their earlier conversation. Orochimaru, too, had plans for world conquest, although he was more interest in learning spells - or jutsu, as he called them. He was from another world entirely, one Voldemort had heard of a time or two from his own studies, and was a ninja. A ninja, Voldemort knew, wasn't all that different from a wizard, although they relied more heavily on physical fights than wizards did. Which meant, his subconscious informed him, that Orochimaru was also in excellent shape.
He wondered briefly how the dating service had found Orochimaru, or vice versa.
“So, Orochimaru-san” he said slowly, picking their conversation back up. Being the scholarly sort, he spoke Japanese, which was good, because Orochimaru had never even heard of English. He had never heard of wizards either, so Voldemort had enlightened him over dinner. “Are the people who work for you as bad as the ones who work for me?” Orochimaru raised an eyebrow. “Every time I send them out to do some easy task, like raiding the Ministry for a prophecy, they fail. They get beaten by Harry Potter and his snot-nosed friends.” He glared down at his wine glass. They were at an upscale restaurant, one where neither Orochimaru's kimono nor his robe would stick out too much. They'd just finished dinner, and Voldemort wondered faintly which of them should offer to pay.
“The good guys do have an annoying tendency to win,” Orochimaru agreed sourly. “My arms haven't been the same since Sarutobi-sensei sealed them.” He too glowered briefly. “But most of my cute pawns are very capable. Bad ninjas don't live very long.” He paused. “Did you say you got beaten by children?”
Voldemort gave him his best glare. “If you say one thing vaguely mocking, I'll cast the Cruciatus Curse on you,” he threatened. At Orochimaru's blank look, he added, “The torture curse.”
“Ah, I was wondering what that was. No, don't worry, Voldemort-san. I wasn't planning to mock you. I've had trouble from children too.” He sighed. “They can cause so much trouble, picking on their elders. They are cute, though.”
Voldemort frowned. “Cute? What do you do, hit on children?”
His date smirked seductively, an expression Voldemort recognized with mixed feelings. He wasn't entirely sure he liked the other enough that he wanted to be looked at like that. On the other hand, it had been decades since anyone had tried to seduce him. “Sometimes I do more than just hit on them,” Orochimaru replied ambiguously. “I'm attracted to power, in any form.” His eyes remained on Voldemort, his meaning crystal clear.
The restaurant suddenly felt much warmer. Their booth, tucked away in a private corner where no other patrons might notice their unique looks, felt stifling. “There is something... hot... about powerful people,” Voldemort agreed. He let his eyes wander over Orochimaru's frame, wondering what was hidden beneath the kimono. Yes, he thought he did want this. “Are you a powerful person, Orochimaru-san?”
A long tongue slipped out and licked the other man's lips. Voldemort watched, mesmerized. “Earlier, you said something about wanting to become immortal?” The ninja's voice had dropped to a whisper.
The wizard leaned closer, his long, thin fingers, spread out on the table between them. “Yes, I did. Immortality is my life's goal. I have made some achievements towards that goal, but I admit to finding nothing that's left me... satisfied.”
“Well, then. I do have a power you would be interested in, Voldemort-san.” Orochimaru's voice dropped lower still. “I have already discovered the secret of immortality. I fact, I have with me a scroll detailing the process.” He twitched his kimono enticingly. “Perhaps you can... persuade me... to share that secret.”
Voldemort stood abruptly, jarring the table. “Would you like to come back to my place?” he asked quickly. “I'm sure there are a few things that might interest you there.” He held out a hand. Orochimaru smirked, reached out, and took his hand. Voldemort apparated swiftly, dumping them both in his bedroom. He was glad that he kept strong wards around the room, so they wouldn't be interrupted. He used his grip on Orochimaru to draw to other close to him. “Does my bed interest you?” he whispered. Not the best line, he thought promptly, but he was out of practice.
A tongue slipped past Orochimaru's lips again, and Voldemort felt it run lightly down his neck. Then there were hands on his shoulders, shoving him backwards. He fell back on down onto the bed, lightly winded. Orochimaru jumped down on top of him, smirk firmly in place. “Let's have some fun,” he hissed. He held up his right hand, which Voldemort saw held a knife - a kunai, he identified it. He watched, cautiously, as the weapon descended down towards his neck. The cool metal barely pressed into his skin, drawing no blood. “If we're going to have fun,” Orochimaru leaned close to breathe, “you're wearing too many clothes.” The kunai jerked downwards, the sound of ripping fabric following its wake. Voldemort made sure not to move, so as to avoid being cut. It was strange though. He wasn't used to being treated this way: overpowered, violently disrobed, held down. It surprised him all the more that the treatment was turning him on. He hadn't though he would like something like this. Then again, it hadn't been since he was a child that he had ever felt so much in someone else's power.
When he finished cutting, Orochimaru nipped at Voldemort's throat and then leaned back. The dark wizard sat up enough to push the remnants of his robes off him and to the floor. Orochimaru reached for his obi, but Voldemort put his hand on top of the other man's to stop him. “Let me,” he hissed with a smirk. Orochimaru wasn't the only one here who could be domineering. He pulled the obi off, then tugged the kimono off white shoulders. He wondered, briefly, where in that outfit was the scroll about immortality. Orochimaru kicked the outfit the rest of the way off and well out of reach, then stood calmly before him, nude and unashamed. Voldemort studied the other's body. Like his own, this body was thin and pale, if stronger than his. Where he was without hair, Orochimaru had long, luxurious black hair that he yearned to run his fingers through.
Voldemort might have watched longer, but the other was back on top of him, pushing him down into the bed. Cold bodies touched, and warmed at the contact. “Normally, I wouldn't do this with you,” Orochimaru whispered to him. He had his kunai back out, and was tracing it slowly down Voldemort's chest. Though he wasn't looking, he still kept from drawing blood. “Sorry, but you're not my type, Voldemort-san.”
He hissed softly, as the other's warm hand followed the path of the kunai. “You're not my type either,” he grunted. “But what does it matter? Power is power.” The knife traced his left nipple, and he gasped against his will. So cold! He gasped again when the kunai bit into his skin, drawing blood. His partner gave a low, throaty chuckle. The kunai was pulled back, and a tongue took its place, lapping up the little blood the knife had drawn. Voldemort leaned his head back and closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of the tongue running over his sensitive pectoral.
Orochimaru moved on to his right side, licking that nipple too. Voldemort grew harder, and he rubbed his body against the other man's to get friction. The other shifted, and strong thighs pressed him back down, hard, preventing him from moving. He hissed in annoyance. “Patience,” Orochimaru murmured, and bit down on Voldemort's nipple. He moaned and tried to buck up again, with no success. “It's not as much fun if we rush.”
With a growl, he managed to shove Orochimaru off of him. Voldemort lunged to the side of the bed, and yanked his wand out of the mess of his ripped robe. He pointed his wand at Orochimaru, who knelt beside him on the bed, watching the wand cautiously. “I wouldn't want to be the only one having fun here,” he said, panting with arousal. With a flick of his wrist, the ninja's wrists were tied with ropes to the headboard. Voldemort grinned in triumph, climbing on top of the other body, reveling that now he was the one in power. He fully intended to wreak a terrible, and enjoyable, vengeance on the other for not going fast enough. To his surprise, Orochimaru was smirking, not looking at all defeated. “Still so confident, Orochimaru-san?” Voldemort purred, putting a somewhat taunting edge to the term of politeness. He ran his fingers up and down his wand in a highly suggestive manner. “How will you stop me from doing whatever I want now? A ninja needs his hands free to perform any techniques.” That much he knew, if little else. The research he had done when he was younger was paying off now.
“I'll stop you like this,” Orochimaru replied. He opened his mouth and his tongue slid out. To Voldemort's surprise, his tongue didn't stop; it got longer and longer and, before he could react, wrapped around his wand. With a flick, the tongue jerked his wand from his fingers, and then retreated into Orochimaru's mouth. He stared in shock, which turned to further arousal when Orochimaru started sucking on his wand. Orochimaru quickly and effortless slipped out of the bonds that held him and grabbed Voldemort. They fell down to the bed again, once more with Orochimaru on top. His own wand bobbed against his neck, held their by Orochimaru's mouth, while they finally rubbed their naked bodies together.
A hand slithered down between them and found its way to Voldemort's hard length. He groaned and bucked up into the grip that held him firmly. Orochimaru pulled his head back and drew the wand out of his mouth with his other hand. He twirled it casually through his fingers. “Such an interesting weapon you wizards carry,” he mused. Voldemort, barely listening, only gasped again in response. “How I would love to take it back with me to study...”
That was enough to bring Voldemort out of his passion-inspired haze. “Don't you dare,” he growled. “That wand is mine. Try and take it, and I'll kill you.” He whipped a hand out, and grabbed his wand, his own fingers splayed on top of Orochimaru's.
The smirk never left the other's face. “Could you kill me, I wonder?” He chuckled. “You're certainly ready to try, aren't you Voldemort-san?”
“Yes,” he hissed in confirmation. His fingers tightened around Orochimaru's. “I want the secret of immortality from you. I'll pay much for it, but not my wand.” He held the other man's gaze, refusing to back down.
“So keen on one weapon? I discard weapons all the time. One kunai is much like another.” Voldemort still refused to relent, and Orochimaru finally laughed. “Very well, I will leave you your wand. Perhaps you might see about finding me another wand to study, not this one.” His fingers tightened their grip around Voldemort's penis. “So, as for payment....” He paused to consider, licking his lips in anticipation. “Let me have some fun with you, Voldemort-san. Then I'll decide the price based on how much fun we had.” His long tongue sneaked out and licked across Voldemort's face.
“Trying to distract me?” he grunted, acceding a little. Orochimaru knew how to run a negotiation. “Very well. We will discuss the price later. I'm sure we'll both have fun tonight. But first, put my wand down,” he ordered sharply. Orochimaru tossed his wand off to the side of the room. Voldemort watched the path of its flight, seeing where it landed. As soon as Orochimaru was distracted, he intended to retrieve it. The next caress along his length, however, was enough to distract him, not the other. It had been, he thought vaguely, such a long time. Why hadn't he indulged himself sooner?
The argument, at least, had been enough to convince Orochimaru not to draw out his games any further. Fingers and lips traced down Voldemort's abdomen while the other hand continued to pump him. The fingers jumped down to his thighs, pushing his legs apart, then traveled further up until he could feel one pushing into him. He gasped in surprise. He'd known all along that this was what Orochimaru wanted. Part of him, the part that was used to being in charge, had assumed it wouldn't come to this. He hadn't submitted sexually to anyone since he'd been a boy. The finger drove into him harder and he stifled a moan, trying to focus on what the other fingers were doing. His limbs twitched, but Orochimaru held him firmly down. There was no way he would get out of this, not and still get the secret of immortality.
Both hands were abruptly pulled away from him, and his moaned, against his will, at the loss. Then strong hands flipped him over so he lay on his stomach. His hands were pulled up towards the headboard, and, before he quite knew what was happening, it was him that was tied up. Then the finger entered him again, from behind this time. He closed his eyes and tried to relax, tried to remember these sensations that he hadn't felt in decades. Another finger was thrust into him and he hissed in pain. “You're incredibly tight, Voldemort-san,” Orochimaru whispered over his shoulder. He sounded amused. “Don't tell me this is your first time submitting?”
“Of course it isn't,” Voldemort bit out. “It's just been a long time.” He hissed aloud this time as a third finger entered him. “Just get on with it already,” he growled. It was a good thing none of his Death Eaters knew about this; he'd never be able to live the shame of it down.
Teeth bit deep into his shoulder, drawing blood. “I hadn't planned to hurt you,” Orochimaru said, softly, almost gently. “This is supposed to be fun. Do you have anything to help?”
Voldemort turned to glare at him over his shoulder. The man looked genuine. “I'm a wizard. I don't keep lubricant in my desk drawers,” he snapped.
Orochimaru moved his fingers, hitting something that made Voldemort gasp in pleasure. “Then what do wizards use?” he asked patiently. His fingers hit that spot again.
It was getting hard to think. “Magic, of course,” he grunted. The fingers hit that spot a third time, and his hips flexed back to meet them. This part of the pleasure he'd forgotten, or not wanted to remember. He rubbed his front against the bed beneath him, trying to get some friction. With Orochimaru's weight holding him down, he could barely move.
“You wizards have a lubricating spell? How marvelous,” Orochimaru murmured. Then he chuckled. “But, really, how much of a fool do you take me for, Voldemort-san? You just want your wand back so you can be on top.” His fingers thrust forward more powerfully this time, causing Voldemort to groan loudly in pleasure. “Don't you?” Voldemort moaned again at another push. He was impossibly hard, and no longer thinking about the shame. “Don't you?” Orochimaru persisted, punctuating his question with another forceful move.
“Yes!” he gasped aloud, unsure of what he was agreeing to. “Yes!”
“That's better,” came the response. “Unfortunately, I didn't bring anything with me. Well, we'll just have to get creative.” The fingers pulled out of him, and he moaned at the loss. His mind spun in a tizzy of passion, and he could think of nothing else. He thought he could hear, behind him, Orochimaru licking something. He hissed and rubbed himself as much as he could against the bed. To his frustration, he could still barely move. His erection throbbed against his stomach, begging for release. He looked over his shoulder to see Orochimaru licking his penis, a feet only he, due to his long tongue, could accomplish. The sight only made him get harder.
Then something large, much larger than fingers, pushed inside his entrance. It was slick and hot, and he forced himself to loosen his muscles. As he relaxed, Orochimaru pressed into him more fully. Voldemort hissed and turned back around, lowering his forehead to the pillow. As Orochimaru had hoped, it didn't hurt, but only felt strange, as he had forgotten how it felt to be stretched there. When the other was fully inside him, he lay still, waiting. Voldemort drew in deep, heavy breaths. It hadn't hurt, and Orochimaru was a far more considerate bed partner than he'd expected. He pushed his hips back, indicating that he was ready to continue.
Orochimaru pulled almost all the way back out, then thrust back in with one powerful move. Voldemort gasped as his whole body jerked along with the movement. Another thrust, and another, and then one hit that spot that made him throw his head back and cry aloud. He arched his back as thrust after thrust continued to his that same spot, and he could think of nothing beyond the pleasure. Then a hand reached around and grasped his cock, stroking it to the same rhythm. Only a few strokes of the hand, in tandem with the other strokes, and then he was coming with a yell.
He collapsed onto the bed in exhaustion. He felt Orochimaru thrust into his now pliant body a few more times before the other man came also, hissing in pleasure. Voldemort closed his eyes and lay there, content. Orochimaru slid out of him and spooned beside him in the bed. Neither moved for some time.
After some time, Voldemort was able to shake himself out of the post-coital stupor. There was something he'd planned to do, something he'd forgotten. His eyes traveled slowly across the room, and he spotted his wand, laying forgotten on the ground. He hoped up, intending to leap out of bed and run to his wand. But his hands were still tied to the headboard, and he was jerked to a halt, half on, half off the bed. Orochimaru leaned over to him and chuckled. “Going for your wand again, Voldemort-san?” he taunted. He pulled himself from the bed gracefully, walked around the room, and picked up the wand. He came back and sat on the bed, where Voldemort joined him, not wholly reluctant.
“My wand was not a part of the deal,” he reminded him.
“Let us discuss the price, then I will give it back,” Orochimaru countered smoothly. He tapped the wand against his chin as he thought. “Well, we did have enough fun tonight. I shouldn't be greedy. Give me a wand to study - not this wand, another one - and we'll call it a deal.”
Voldemort studied him. “Any wand?” Orochimaru nodded. “You have a deal then.” Orochimaru handed him his wand, and he freed himself from the restraints. He stayed seated on the bed as he thought. “Let me summon one of my servants,” he offered. “You can have his wand.”
“Wonderful.”
Peter stumbled into the room a few minutes later, obedient to Voldemort's summons. Upon seeing his master and some strange man naked on the bed together, he flushed and stared at the floor. “Wormtail,” Voldemort greeted him coolly. “Come closer.” Reluctantly, the other wizard approached the bed, never raising his eyes from the carpet. When he was within reach, Voldemort held out his wand. “Give me your wand. I need to inspect it.” Peter paused for the shortest of moments, but he knew better than to disobey an order. He reached into his robes and presented his master with his wand. Voldemort studied it for a moment before nodding. “It is in good condition.” He held it out to Orochimaru. “Your payment.”
Peter's mouth fell open in shock, but he restrained himself from protesting aloud, if barely. Orochimaru fingered the wand with a smile. “Perfect,” he murmured gleefully. He got up out of the bed and pulled his kimono back on. When he was dressed, he slid the wand into a pocket, and took out a scroll wrapped in black. “I trust you can read Japanese, Voldemort-san?”
“Of course, Orochimaru-san.” He smirked broadly, staring at the scroll hungrily.
“Then our deal is complete.” Orochimaru put the scroll down on Voldemort's desk. “Perhaps we can do this again some time,” he added. Voldemort didn't respond to that. The sex had been good, but he'd wait and see how valuable Orochimaru's technique proved to be before suggesting a repeat. The ninja smirked, performed a quick series of hand motions, then disappeared from the room in a puff of smoke.
As soon as the smoke cleared, Voldemort went to his desk, not bothering to dress, even though Peter was still in the room with him. He picked up the scroll, opened it and began reading through it slowly, to make sure he didn't miss anything. He did read Japanese, but not easily. He reached the end of the scroll and stood still for a long moment. Then he threw the scroll down and cursed loudly at length. Orochimaru's precious immortality technique employed power in, so he assumed, the way ninjas used magic - chakra, as Orochimaru had called it earlier that evening. That method was something he didn't know, and the explanation of the technique was useless without that understanding.
He swore again, more creatively. He'd been cheated. After a few minutes, he paused, and his temper diminished somewhat. Well, the price had only been one night of passion - which, seeing as how much as he'd enjoyed it, could hardly be called a price - and Peter's wand. He considered Orochimaru's parting words. Maybe a few more dates would be enough for Orochimaru to teach him enough to understand the scroll.