Mindmaze

Title: Mindmaze.
Author: Shaded Mazoku.
Email: herukatto@hotmail.com.
Part: 1/1.
Disclaimer: Characters are the property of Square Enix. I’m just borrowing them for my own twisted purposes. I’l give them back unharmed, if a little debauched.
Warnings: Yaoi, smut, cross-dressing, sort-of-vampirism, Flea being Flea.
Rating: NC-17.
Summary: Flea likes playing games with Magus. Somewhat of a PWP.
Pairing(s): Magus x Flea.
Fandom: Chrono Trigger.

*

The dark halls and rooms in the castle seemed to change from day to day. Magus often wandered around the castle when he had no other duties to perform for Ozzie, and he found that several times, the rooms had moved around, or disappeared without a trace. It intrigued Magus. The unpredictability of the castle layout made each trip through the castle a different experience. The main halls of the castle remained in place, but the rooms around, the ones that were hidden from intruders, changed and moved as they pleased. Some days, even finding his bedroom could be a challenge.

It was a warm evening, and Magus had replaced his usual armor with a simple set of shirt and pants, to avoid overheating. The hallways were quiet and cooler than the rooms, and Magus had been stalking the corridors for a while, unable to sleep in such heat. His mind was not in the hallways, however, but circling around the problem he had encountered with his magic earlier. He had nobody to ask about such things. The only Mystic who even came close to his level in magic was Flea, who, in addition to being more unpredictable than the moving rooms, was a Chaos mage, and not a Shadow mage.

Magus sighed and walked around another corner, a corner that he was sure hadn’t been there a few minutes ago, and found himself in a huge room of some sort. It had a fireplace in one end, and huge bookshelves along the walls. There was a huge couch standing in the middle of the room, a luxurious piece of furniture, with deep red velvet upholstery. It looked very out of place. The entire room did. Magus wasn’t alone in the room, though, and he slowly realized that there was a familiar presence in the room, one he usually tried to avoid. He slowly extended his senses through his magic, picking up on a unique energy signature he knew better than his own.

“Where are you, Flea?” He asked, looking around in the room. His eyes couldn’t pick up on anything out of the ordinary, but he knew that with a magician, that didn’t matter. // Come find me…// came the teasing reply, tingling in the back of his brain. It was a definitive challenge. The Mystic was playing games with him again. It was infuriating, in a way. He spent a lot of time projecting an aura of coldness and scariness, yet Flea didn’t seem to be daunted by his efforts. The small Mystic seemed to delight in making him loose his composure. On the other hand, he reluctantly enjoyed the games Flea played. They were challenges to his intellect and cunning, giving him something more cheerful to think about than his revenge against Lavos. Up to a certain point, it was even a bit flattering; because in playing these games, Flea dropped the guise of stupidity he wore around others, and let Magus see a glimpse of his true self.

There was the core of the situation, the reason why Magus played along with Flea’s games. Beneath all the illusions and layers of acts Flea hid behind, there was a force of pure chaos, too unpredictable to be harvested properly. It was what made Flea such an effective creature. His entire being was based on chaos and unpredictability. It added to the thrill of the chase, because Flea’s chaos magic made him the only one who was capable navigating the castle’s changing rooms.

Magus smiled slightly and reached out to trace Flea’s magical signature. Not surprisingly, it was shielded, which meant he’d have to focus. Systematically looking through every room he passed, he picked up on little hints. In one room, the books on one of the shelves had been rearranged so that the first letters in each title spelled “tower”. Magus hurried off to the tower, only to find a pair of manacles from the dungeons. The dungeon, in turn, held a quill from Magus’ own study. Each time he came to the room the clues lead to, there was a new clue waiting, and he didn’t even see a hint of Flea, but he knew that the Mystic was somewhere, watching. How did you track a magician who could conceal his tracks and turn himself into just about anything? Magus didn’t know, though he was doing his best to figure it out.

The problem was that there was no real pattern to Flea’s little hints. He seemed to choose the rooms completely randomly, as if there was no reason behind it. Magus didn’t doubt that there was something behind the magician’s actions, but he had no idea what that might be. Flea’s mind was an unknown zone to everyone but Flea.

Magus stopped for a while. The next clue seemed to lead to the dining hall, but he wanted to get the upper hand on Flea this time. He mentally went through the rooms of the castle that had a scrying outlet. There were several minor scrying devices scattered around, but Flea wouldn’t bother with those. There was a scrying orb in Magus’ room, but nobody went in to his room without permission, not even Flea. However, he seemed to recall the Mystic mentioning that he had a scrying device in his room. Not to mention whatever else he kept there. It was the most logical place for Flea to be. There were only two minor problems. One was that logic rarely, if ever, applied to Flea, the other was that he had no idea where Flea’s room might be these days. He’d never been in there, so he couldn’t teleport into it, and even if he had been there, Flea probably kept strong wards on his room.

It was a challenge, however, and Magus enjoyed a good challenge. Especially since Flea might have some useful information to share if he caught him. He smirked and stalked off to find the room he was looking for.

It took him a while to find Flea’s room but he did find it finally. He paused outside the heavy wooden door and took a moment to analyze the wards. Surprisingly, they weren’t very advanced at all. Magus could slip between them without a problem. Smiling to himself, he teleported into the room, wanting to see Flea’s reaction. The reaction was not what he’d expected. Flea was sitting on his bed with a strange little smirk; as if he’d known what Magus would do all the time. The Mystic was wearing the oddest outfit Magus had seen him in to date, a crimson dress which clung to his body like a second skin, and which was far to short for decency, with black lace along the hems and sleeves.

Magus realized that he’d been toyed with, and decided to leave before Flea acted. He found, however, that he’d underestimated the magician yet again. The wards that had seemed ridiculously weak from the outside were very strong from the inside, effectively trapping him inside. Magus tried teleporting out, but the wards caused him to bounce back. Flea chuckled from his seat on the bed. “None of that, Magus,” he said teasingly, getting up. He walked slowly over to a nearby table. There were only two chairs, which proved to Magus that Flea had been planning this all along. “I went to a lot of trouble to get you here, after all. Come sit.” Flea sat down and gave Magus another of his really strange little smiles. Magus sighed. He wasn’t getting out of there before Flea was done with him, obviously. He strode forwards, and sat down across from the Mystic.

“What do you want, Flea?” He growled, glaring at the pink-haired Mystic. Flea grinned and waved his hand, conjuring up a teapot and two cups. “Tea?” He asked, tilting his head to the side, sending his pink hair, worn loose for the occasion, spilling over his shoulders like a veil. “No, Flea, I don’t want any tea. I want to know what you’re up to!” Magus replied, annoyed that Flea wasn’t affected by his glares. Then again, the Mystic had no common sense at all. Flea chuckled and shook his head. “You’re always so tense, Magus,” he said, pouring tea into the two cups. He handed one of them to Magus, his lace glove clad hand brushing against Magus’ fingers. “Have some tea. It’ll do you good.” His voice had a hypnotic quality to it, and Magus realized that Flea was using his charm powers against him. “Stop that!” He snapped, but he accepted the cup Flea held out.

“You’re amusing, did you know that?” Flea’s voice was warm as he spoke, and black flecks seemed to dance in his magenta eyes, a sign that he was in a good mood. He put his cup down and smiled at Magus. “You amuse me, at least.” Magus scowled. “Glad to be of some use,” he muttered, looking into his tea. The warm liquid smelled of anise and cardamom, a rather enjoyable scent that seemed to be making him a bit lightheaded. He took a small, careful sip of the tea, and found it quite tasty, to his surprise. He’d expected it to be overly sweet. Flea chuckled from the other side of the table. “Don’t worry,” he said, sipping at his own tea. “It’s not poisonous.” He smiled slowly, running his tongue over his lips. “I wouldn’t go through all this trouble to get you here, only to poison you.” Magus snorted. “I don’t trust you at all, Flea,” he said, drinking some more of the tea. “Of course you don’t,” Flea purred, smiling lazily at Magus. “Only a fool would trust me…”

Magus growled to himself. Holding a conversation with Flea was not an easy thing to do at all, especially not when he was in this mood. “Flea? Would please tell me what you want? I don’t have the time for your games.” He put the cup down on the table and looked at Flea. The Mystic gave him yet another of those alluring, but insane smiles he used so often. “You don’t have the time because you still haven’t found the key to get your revenge against Lavos, and you need to research,” Flea said. He put down his own cup. Magus stared at him. While he had always believed that Flea was brighter than he pretended to be, he hadn’t expected the magician to figure out what he was up to. “Surprised?” Flea asked, grinning in a way that showed off his razor sharp fangs. “I make a point of always knowing what the inhabitants of the castle are up to.” He leaned forwards, and licked his lips again. “Especially when they’re as powerful, and intriguing, as you are.”

Magus suddenly realized that Flea wasn’t just being his usual self. There was something deeper behind his actions. “What do you want?” He asked again, his hands curled into fists. This was dangerous information. Flea smiled slowly, and placed one of his hands on Magus’, fingers gently stroking over his skin in a soothing motion. “A trade,” he said, his voice taking on that purring quality again. “I have something you want, namely information and silence about your little secrets, and you have something I want, as well.” Magus blinked. “What would that be?” He asked, curious as to what the price for Flea’s silence would be. Flea smiled and got up, stretching a little. He sauntered over to Magus’ side of the table and places his arms around the blue-haired man’s neck. “Your blood,” he whispered, brushing his lips against Magus’ earlobe as he spoke.

“My blood? Have you gone mad?” Magus asked, but he made no attempt to dislodge the small Mystic. “Of course I’m mad,” Flea giggled softly, slipping one hand under the neckline of Magus’ shirt. “I don’t mean all of your blood, of course.” He nipped at Magus’ earlobe with a smile. “Just a little.” He traced his sharp nails over the skin on Magus’ neck. “I can just imagine the taste of your blood. All that magic running through your body…” Magus shivered a little, unused as he was to people touching him in any way. “Let me get this straight. You want to drink my blood?” Flea nodded and nuzzled his face against Magus’ neck. Magus thought about it. On one hand, giving in to any of Flea’s demands was usually a bad idea. On the other hand, Flea did have a knack for coming up with information that nobody else could find. If there was a chance that Flea knew something about Lavos, any price was worth it.

“Very well,” he said slowly. “We’ll ‘trade’.” Flea pulled away and stood up. “Good. Come here.” He walked over to the bed and sat down, pulling his legs up underneath himself. He gave Magus an inviting look, and patted the bed next to him. “It’s more comfortable over here.” Magus didn’t doubt him. Flea’s bed was large, covered with crimson sheets and blankets, and draped with maroon velvet, hanging of the ornately carved ebony frame. Magus walked over and joined Flea. “How do you want me?” He asked, looking at the Mystic. Flea chuckled. “You might want to rephrase that,” he said, and motioned for him to climb further onto the bed and sit up against the headboard. Magus did as he was told, kicking his boots off so he wouldn’t track dirt onto the covers.

Flea smiled to himself, and snuggled against Magus, pressing his lithe body against the blue-haired man’s. Flea was warm, Magus noticed, and very soft, and he smelled like anise and cardamom, just like his tea. The Mystic purred slightly and nuzzled his face back against Magus’ neck, licking the skin. “Flea, just get on with it,” Magus said, trying to ignore the fact that Flea felt very nice against him like this. “I don’t have all day.” Flea snickered and bit down on Magus’ skin, razor sharp fangs sliding through the skin like needles. Magus startled. He’d expected pain, but there was so much more than that. It felt like his blood had been exchanged for magma or something similar, and a tingle spread through his entire body. Flea made a delighted sound and pressed closer, claws sinking into Magus’ arms where they were clutched. His tongue pressed against the skin, helping to stimulate the veins. Magus found himself enjoying the experience, much to his surprise. Flea was obviously enjoying it, too, moaning slightly into the other mage’s neck.

When Flea pulled away, after what seemed like both an eternity and far too short, Magus found himself panting slightly. Flea was panting too, but the look on his face was one of pure bliss. “Better than I’d imagined,” he murmured, delighted. Magus looked at the pink-haired Mystic. He’d always thought Flea was pretty, like most men did, but he’d never seen the Mystic look more appealing than he did now, with his entire being humming with magic as a reaction to his blood. Flea wasn’t the only one who was affected by the exchange, though. Magus was, to his embarrassment, painfully aroused. He put it down to his lack of experience with being touched and tried to ignore it. It wasn’t easy, though. Flea sat up and smiled. His eyes were glowing. “Let me help you,” he said softly, running his fingers over the bulge in Magus’ pants. “I’m sure I can give you a very good time.”

Magus knew he should push Flea away, but he felt lightheaded from arousal and the tingling feeling in his neck. It wasn’t the first time he’d been attracted to Flea, but he’d pushed the idea away, thinking about Flea’s unpredictability. However, at the moment, he wanted nothing more than to push the Mystic down into the mattress and take what he wanted. Especially since he so obviously was offering. Flea looked at him, and shrugged, before climbing into Magus’ lap to kiss him forcefully. They kissed for a while, their tongues dueling. Flea was doing his best to coax Magus into giving in to his desire. He wasn’t used to people resisting him. He wriggled in Magus’ lap, against his erection. Magus growled. Flea was being too aggressive at the moment. He didn’t plan on letting Flea think he could order him around in any way. He flipped them both around, so that he was pinning the Mystic to the bed.

“That’s more like it,” Flea commented, running his leg up Magus’. “You think too much.” He pressed his lips against Magus’ again, opening his mouth in an obvious invitation. Magus accepted the invitation, exploring the Mystic’s mouth with his tongue. // You’re overdressed. // Flea told him quietly, wriggling loose so that he could unbutton Magus’ shirt. Magus rolled off Flea, letting him undress him. Flea smiled and pulled Magus’ shirt off, before beginning on his pants. He worked quickly and effectively, wanting Magus naked as soon as possible. Magus allowed Flea to pull his clothing off. Once he was naked, he pulled Flea closer. “Now you’re the overdressed one,” he pointed out, tugging at Flea’s dress. Flea smiled and lifted his arms, so that Magus could pull it off.

Magus found himself eyeing Flea’s undergarments in surprise, but not in a bad way. Flea was wearing an overbust corset in black lace, with matching panties and garters. Black lace stockings and fingerless lace gloves completed the ensemble. It should have looked weird on a man, but it looked perfect on Flea. The Mystic tilted his head. “Like what you see?” Magus grinned and pressed Flea back into the pile of pillows and blankets, biting at his neck. “I guess that is a ‘yes’,” Flea murmured and reached between them, grasping Magus’ cock. He ran his thumb over the head, running it in circles. Magus groaned and bit harder, causing Flea to gasp in pleasure. “Sit up,” Flea said, not letting go of the erection in his hand. Magus complied. Flea obviously knew what he was doing.

Flea smiled and kneeled slowly between Magus’ legs, leaning down to run his tongue over the other mage’s cock, lapping at the head with skilled movements. He swirled his tongue around the erect member, purring all the time, as to inform Magus that he enjoyed what he was doing. Magus groaned in pleasure and twined his fingers into the Mystic’s long pink hair. He had to concentrate not to thrust up into the warm mouth that was encircling his swollen cock. Flea chuckled, sending pleasant vibrations through Magus, and swallowed the entire length, mindful of his teeth. He used every bit of skill at his disposal to slowly drive the blue-haired man mad with pleasure, and chuckled when Magus pulled away, obviously reluctant. “You want more?” He asked, licking his lips slowly. Magus nodded, not trusting his voice at the moment. Flea smiled and leaned over the edge of the bed to fetch something. Magus took the opportunity to pull the Mystic’s lacy panties down, revealing his pale-skinned, soft ass. Flea made a pleased sound and sat back up, lifting his feet to allow Magus to pull the flimsy garment off.

Flea placed a bottle of oil into Magus’ hand and kneeled on his hands and knees on the bed in front of Magus, offering him his ass with a seductive smile. Magus pulled the cork out of the bottle and dipped his fingers into the slick oil, before pushing them slowly into Flea. The Mystic moaned and closed his eyes, pushing back onto the fingers. Magus liked making Flea moan, he decided, and spread his fingers as far as he could get them, stretching the tight passage. Flea moaned again, clawing at the fabric under the fingers, easily tearing through it. Magus added another finger, pressing them deeper into the magician. One of his fingers slid over a spongy nub, causing Flea to hiss and arch his back, thrusting onto his fingers. “Enough,” he panted. “I’m ready.”

Magus grinned and grabbed Flea’s hips, pulling him down into his lap. Flea mewled in pleasure as he was impaled, and reached up to entwine his hands in Magus’ hair. Magus slowly began thrusting into the smaller man, reaching into his lap to stroke his erection at the same time. Flea’s response was another moan, as his eyes slid shut. He was panting wildly, moaning at every single thrust Magus made. The sound of Flea’s moans were the most erotic thing Magus had ever heard, and he stroked Flea faster, aware that he wouldn’t last much longer. He was determined to drag Flea over the edge with him. Flea seemed to have the same idea, as he was thrusting back onto Magus, trying to bring them both to climax.

When orgasm hit them, it was mind-blowing, leaving them both incoherent for a long while. Magus wrapped his arms loosely around Flea’s waist, holding him close, while Flea leaned his head back on Magus’ shoulder, panting. Once they’d caught their breaths, they pulled apart enough to use a cleaning cantrip, and snuggled up against each other. Flea was purring deeply, like a monstrous feline of some sort, while Magus was gently stroking his back. “I need to bite you more often, I think,” Flea murmured. “I knew it was arousing, but you certainly performed far better than I’d expected.” Magus frowned. “You planned this all along?” He asked. Flea smiled against his skin. “Of course,” he said. “I don’t always act on impulse.” He pulled one of the blankets up over them. “You’ll get your information tomorrow,” he said softly. “Too tired, now. Scheming combined with sex takes a lot of energy. Next time, I’m just going to ask you, I think. Manipulating takes too much time.” Flea curled up against Magus’ side and fell asleep, his breath slowing down. Magus shook his head and fell asleep as well, realizing that Flea’s games ran far deeper than they seemed to.