A/N: Drabbly...thing...written for Potterverse100, Challenge No. 083. Fire. Because uke!Salazar is never written hereabouts. Reviews are appreciated. --Len-chan.

Disclaimer: All I can say in my defense is...Rowling seldom uses these darlings anyway. She never notices when I kidnap them.

"...Fire."

Red, gold, orange, warmth... The flying colours of passion. Sigh. The kiss was fire on his tongue, scalding and sweaty, but release left him cold and alone. He snuggled in closer, arms constricting in a serpentine fashion around the figure of a lover as fervent as the hearth that roared before them.

'If I am fire, you are ice.' Another kiss, as ardent as the last. It left them both gasping for breath.

'Ice?'

'Cold...-'

'Nn...'

'-...biting...-'

'Ah!'

'-...but you melt under the right heating arrangements.'

He shivered, draping his lover's arms closely across his shoulders like a blanket on the coldest winter nights. 'You flatter yourself. I melt for no one.' Even if a lovermight pass through his barricade of stone and ice, no one could break his obduracy.

'That's not what it sounded like to me.'

'O-oh! That's cheating terribly. Stop it at once.'

'A command...?'

'Yes. So follow it, knave.'

'A knave indeed!' His lover's laugh sounded hearty, full, and untamed as the flames that burn like jewels in his eyes, in his heart. Unsurprisingly, his ministrations did not cease; this time, Salazar forgot to make his objections asobvious.

'You are a fool, Godric Gryffindor.'

'The fool who fell for the ice queen. Yes.'

'I beg your pardon! That's hardly a way to address your superiors.'

'Oh, I agree.'

'You horrible little...- mn...-'

'What was that?' He felt Godric's obvious smile pressed against his skin. 'Surely you were not about to scold such a noble man as myself. I have brought you nothing but your owndesires.'

'I lo...' His smile turned melancholy as he stops himself mid-sentence.

'Mm?' The lover didn't seem to notice the half-spoken words, though the change of mood was enough to rouse him.

He shook his head, leaning it upon his counterpart's chest instead. Soft, snug, and rhythmic. For love to break such fragile passion, Salazar knew such a sacrifice would never be worth the heartbreak. He would not have the fire go out and be unwelcome on this hearth.