Teatime

By Shaded Mazoku

This doesn’t belong to me. At least the characters don’t. I’m just borrowing them. I do however own the plot, and the tea. So beware. And don’t sue, please?

This fic is inspired of eight pints of tea, Dir en Grey’s “The Domestic Fucker Family” and my twisted imagination. Be aware of the attempts on humor.

*****

“What’s wrong with you?” Lucca asked, looking at Magus. The blue-haired sorcerer was half sitting, half lying in a large chair, looking rather crabby. He gave Lucca a glare that would have been a lot more effective if he hadn’t been looking like a drowsy cat. “That pointy-eared menace I live with drugged me,” he growled. From the other side of the room, said pointy-eared menace giggled from his seat in a chair that matched Magus’. To Magus, the chair seemed like a throne. To Flea, who was a lot smaller than his colleague, it seemed oversized. Flea was cradling a large ceramic mug in his hands, the content obviously warm, as it gave off steam. “He drugged you?” Lucca asked, not really believing it. As far as she knew, Flea was actually quite fond of Magus. “With what?” Magus sneered and muttered something under his breath. “What did you say?” Lucca asked, pulling up one of the huge chairs for herself. Magus glared at her. “Tea.”

Lucca’s eyes widened behind her glasses for a moment, and then she burst out laughing. “Tea?” She asked, disbelieving. Magus growled at her, but it was sadly rather inefficient. Flea giggled again and sipped his tea. “It appears that Mystic tea is too potent for him,” Flea said, his lilting, soft voice filled with mirth. “The tea has relaxing properties. A bit too relaxing for you humans, or so it seems.” Lucca grinned, but at the same time, she listened to the sound of Flea’s voice. That villager who had called Flea tone-deaf had obviously never met the Mystic. Flea’s voice was one of the most melodic things she’d ever heard. Actually, she thought, I bet that Magus’ voice is melodic, too, if there just was a way to make him stop growling. She thought about it.

It was no problem coaxing Flea to sing, at least not after he had started becoming a friend to Lucca and Marle. Magus, however, would take more coaxing. Or more tea. Either option would be good. Lucca decided to see if she couldn’t talk to Flea about those teas. It could prove to be… …interesting. She looked over at the small Mystic. Flea had put his teacup away, and was now reading a book that was draped in his lap. The book was easily half as big as Flea. The Mystic was small. There was no other word for it. Even Marle was taller, and she was quite small, too. However, the thing about Flea was that you forgot about his size, because he had a very strong presence. The fact that he was amazingly beautiful also helped, of course. At least when he was around men, it did.

Magus made a hissing sound as he tried to sit up. His muscles just refused to obey. Cursing the tea, Flea and the Mystic’s heritage, he forced himself to sit up, even if his muscles tried to avoid it. Flea didn’t giggle this time. Instead, he came over to where they sat. He was still carrying the book, showing that although he was tiny, he was strong. Not that surprisingly, really, if you considered the Mystics’ demonic nature. Magus gave him a nasty glare. Flea grinned. “You’ve been around Mystics too long, Magus,” he said, dumping the book into a chair. “It’s not as if I knew what effect that tea would have on a human, you know,” he said. Magus growled a little beneath his breath, but he kept quiet. Flea smiled.

“I’m sure I can make it up to you,” he said, his voice taking on a slightly breathy quality. “I know I have a tea somewhere that is a mild aphrodisiac. If all Mystic teas are this much stronger on humans, that could be fun, couldn’t it?” He bent down and brushed the tip of Magus’ ear with his lips. “What do you say, Master?” he whispered, too low for Lucca to hear. Lucca blushed slightly from watching the two men act like that. Not because she minded, really, it was more of a case of blushing in anticipation. Magus was torn between being angry at Flea for the tea incident and being enticed by Flea’s suggestion. Especially since Flea had called him “Master.” He regretted ever letting the pink-haired Mystic learn how that little word affected him, but sometimes, it wasn’t all that bad. This would be one of those times, if his muscles hadn’t been so damn relaxed. He was tempted to growl again, but Flea was right, it was a very Mystic habit. Flea hissed when he got angry enough, and purred when he was pleased. In bed, for an example. Apparently, Mystics where more feral than humans. It didn’t surprise him.

Flea grinned again, and climbed into his lap. Magus smiled faintly. With a bit of focusing, he managed to place one arm around Flea’s waist, enabling him to hold the Mystic close and just feel the warmth he gave off. He buried his face in Flea’s hair, taking in the smell of sweet fruits that the smaller man always seemed to be surrounded by. Flea didn’t comment on this show of weakness. Instead, he leaned into the embrace, resting his face against Magus’ neck. In her chair, Lucca smiled. Although moments where the two magicians acted in a sexual way were frequent, moments like this, where they acted like a couple in love, were utterly rare. She grinned and took a sip from the teacup Flea had given her when she came in. The tea was spicy and sweet, and before long, she had drained the cup. First when she saw the smirk on Flea’s face did she realize that she shouldn’t have drunk the tea. She felt herself get sleepy faster than if she’d been hit with her own sleeping spell and before she could say anything to Flea; she had fallen asleep.

Flea resumed his nuzzling against Magus’ neck with an amused smile. Lucca might be his friend, but that didn’t stop him from testing things on her. It wasn’t like she never tested her inventions on him, after all. Magus chuckled. “You’re devious, Flea,” he told him. Flea gave a confirming noise and started purring. “The tea is even stronger to her. I guess it has to do with body size as well as race,” he said, taking note of this. “It might also have to do with magical potential. You’re stronger in magic than her, after all.” Magus smiled. Flea had a naturally inquisitive mind, and a devious at that. I’m glad we’re not fighting anymore, he thought, and flexed his fingers.

He found that the tea was wearing off. He had no problems moving his muscles anymore. Slowly, he pushed the pink-haired magician off his lap and got up. It felt good to move. His legs felt cramped from the tea. Well, from that or from the magician sitting on him, but he doubted that. Flea weighed next to nothing. “So you’re feeling better now?” Flea asked, cocking his head. “The duration of the tea seems to vary, too. When I gave it to Frog, he was out for a day.” Magus chuckled. “What are you up to?” Flea shrugged. “Thought I’d do something useful. The tea is better than poison, because I can drink it without problems, which causes less distrust.”

 “You are devious,” Magus murmured, but it was in a fond way. Flea smiled and wrapped his arms around Magus’ waist, leaning his head on the taller man’s chest. “Wouldn’t have survived for long among my race if I wasn’t,” he said. Magus smiled slightly, and pulled loose from the embrace. “So she’ll be out for a day?” He asked. Flea nodded. Magus smirked. “Did you mean what you said about the aphrodisiac?” Flea grinned. “Do you need one?” Laughing, Magus pushed Flea in front of him in direction of their bedroom. “Let’s find out, shall we?” Flea’s silvery laugh joined his.

Lucca snored slightly in the chair, blissfully unaware of her surroundings.