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Green Dream	By : GoldenVendetta Category: +A through F > Chrono Trigger Views: 1191 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Chrono Trigger or any of its characters. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Green Dream
- 1
Author's Note: This story is the sequel to “Icy Beginnings.” That story should be read before this one. This story also contains sex with everyone's favorite anthropomorphic Frog. Don't like it, don't read it. You have been warned!
Disclaimer: I do not own Chrono Trigger or any of its characters. This story was written for non-profit yaoi fun.

Green Dream
By GoldenVendetta
Magus hated insomnia. When he couldn't sleep, he'd start to think about things he didn't really want to think about. Things like Schala, the past, his uncertain future.
Earlier, before everyone had settled in for the night, the party had talked. Not just chattered, as usual, but really discussed things. Lucca had insisted that they camp in Fiona's forest for the night. Maybe it was her way of celebrating the return of her robot friend, or of savoring his victory second-hand.
Magus didn't really care. He wasn't friends with any of them, and he knew they only tolerated him because of his potential power against their enemies. But he'd listened as they talked. They spoke of Lavos, or an entity wanting to relive its past.
How often have I wanted to relive my past? Maybe if I had another chance, I could save Schala from her fate. Maybe I could even save Zeal from destruction.
Magus frowned and burrowed deeper into his cloak. Those were useless thoughts.
I had the chance. As the Prophet, I could have done something to prevent Mother from succumbing to the power of Lavos. I could have kidnapped Schala, or made a "prediction" about the doom of the floating continent. Instead, I stood back and watched Mother follow the path to ruin. Schala was there, in my grasp, and I didn't even bother to reach out my hands to her.
He was a failure. No, more than that. He was a coward who was too concerned with his own well being that he couldn't be bothered to risk altering the past for fear of what it would do to his existence.
I could have saved them all, he mused. His hand fell to Schala's pendant that he wore under his shirt. Or maybe, part of me wanted them to die.
Clenching his teeth, Magus opened his eyes and glared into the heart of the campfire as if to divine some sort of secret from it.
No, he couldn’t bring himself to believe that his sister was really dead. They had shared a bond that went beyond mere flesh and blood. She had been his best friend, his light when the darkness threatened to engulf his very soul. Schala had always been there for him, even when the rest of his people had called him an abomination, a weak-blooded freak that was unworthy to be considered a true Enlightened. She was his everything. If she had perished along with Zeal Kingdom, he felt certain that he would have felt something.
He hunched his shoulders and tried to settle more comfortably against the tree upon which he was leaning, but didn’t have much success. How he missed the ramshackle accommodations of Ozzie’s Fort! Though he’d never admit it out loud, Magus greatly enjoyed sleeping in a real bed.
The others were asleep, of course. Crono was stretched out by the fire, snoring so loud that it was a wonder that anyone else could get any rest. Close by his side was Marle. Even in sleep, one of her hands was reaching out towards Crono, a subconscious gesture of her affection for the swordsman.
Magus snorted quietly. Crono had better watch out. After losing him once, Marle was sticking to his side like glue.
Lucca was curled up against Robo whose lights blinked softly in what Magus had learned to recognize as his "sleep mode." The inventor girl seemed restless. She kept twitching and mumbling in her sleep. Magus wondered what she was dreaming about that could cause her so much distress.
Probably battling some sort of monstrous equation, he snickered mentally.
The prehistoric woman, Ayla, dangled from a tree limb, snoring almost as loudly as Crono. Sometimes she'd kick her leg from some dream she was having. In many ways, she was more animal than human.
The only other person left was...missing.
Magus did a quick scan of the area. Frog's bedroll was empty, but his gear hadn't been touched. That meant he wasn't off practicing his swordsmanship.
So, where did that stupid amphibian wander off to?
Magus pushed himself away from the tree he'd been using as a back rest, and gave one last look around the clearing. No one would miss him, but they might panic if someone woke up and couldn't find Frog.
Then everyone will come rushing to me, fingers pointed in accusation, and demand to know what I did to him.
Rather than deal with all of that nonsense, Magus decided he'd go look for the witless knight and drag him back to camp where he belonged.
Fading into the shadows was a skill the warlock had learned from his years with the Mystics. It wasn't hard to utilize his levitation abilities to avoid making any sound as he moved wraith-like through the trees.
If I were a Frog, where would I go?
The options were limited, really. The only place nearby was Fiona's Shrine.
Magus adjusted his course of flight in that direction. His search would begin there.
--
Frog paused outside of the cathedral-like structure. The marble steps were well scrubbed and two torches illuminated the vaulted entryway and its two large double doors. Light glowed faintly on the other side of the stained glass windows, making the knight wonder if anyone were still up at this hour.
He climbed the stairs and pulled gently on one of the door handles. The polished wood swung open on oiled hinges without a whisper. He poked his head inside.
A single nun sat in a chair beside the alter that used to house Robo’s inert form. As if sensing his presence, she looked up and smiled. “Come in, my child.”
Frog eased his body through the door. “Art thou sure? T'is not too late?”
The woman smiled. “It is never too late, child. Our doors are always open to lovers of the Forest.” She gestured to one of the pews in front of her. “Won’t you come have a seat?”
Frog approached her, feeling slightly out of place. It had been a very long time since he was in a place of worship. Certainly before Magus’ wicked curse had transformed him into such a grotesque being.
The nun’s eyes widened a bit as the knight came further into the candlelight. “I’m not seeing things, am I? You’re really a talking frog?”
The knight dropped his eyes to the floor. “Thine eyes are correct. I am as I appear.” Suddenly, he wished he’d never come. He waited for the mockery and ridicule to begin.
“Well, be that as it may, you are welcome here. Our order does not discriminate against people. Or frogs, for that matter.”
“I am really a man,” Frog offered weakly. “T'is but a curse.”
The nun frowned. “I see. How unfortunate. How did it happen?”
Frog took a deep breath and let it out in a slow, long sigh. “T'is a long story. Perhaps too long for a night such as this. I cannot kill the man who did me this wrong. But until I slay him, I shall forever remain as I am.” He shook his head. “I am such a fool.”
The two sat in silence for a while before the nun ventured, “Perhaps the answer lies not in killing this man who wronged you, but in forgiving him.”
Frog’s bulbous eyes flashed with anger. “Forgive a murderer? Nay! The spirits of those he killed demand his blood before they shall find their peace.”
“Does murder justify another murder?” The woman shook her head. “I’m not saying it isn’t right to feel anger for this man’s actions, but wasting your life on a quest for vengeance isn’t the answer.”
The knight clenched his fists in his lap. “This ‘man’ thou speakest of slew a dear friend! I was there, and I couldst nary do a thing to stay his hand.”
The nun looked deep into Frog’s eyes. “Then maybe the one you need to forgive is yourself.”
Frog opened his mouth to reply, but the words died before he could voice them. Forgive himself?
“It must have been hard to feel so powerless,” the nun continued. “But if there had been anything that could have been done to save your friend’s life, you would have done it, I’m sure.”
“Of a certainty!” Frog placed a fist over his heart. “I wouldst have gladly sacrificed myself in his stead.”
“There, you see?”
“B-but I was injured, and couldst do nothing but stand by and watch as he was cut down by mine enemy. He died from a blow intended for me.” Frog slumped in his seat, the earlier depression returning to his wide, green features. “I failed my friend.”
But the nun shook her head with a small smile. “Is that what you think?” She placed a cool hand against his cheek. “Your friend wanted you to live, to survive that battle. He cared about you enough to give his own life in order to protect yours. You need to let go of the guilt inside you for living even as he perished. Your friend gave you a precious gift; don’t demean it by wasting your life pursuing his murderer. The wicked will be punished in due time.”
Frog swallowed a few times to clear a lump from his throat. When he spoke, his words came out haltingly. “Perhaps...there is some truth in what thou hast said.”
How long hath I been bearing this burden of vengeance? How long hath I suffered for not being able to save his life?
The nun was looking at him, awaiting some sort of further response. She seemed sincerely invested in trying to urge him down a less destructive path in life. The knight wondered if that was just an effect of her being a nun, or if she genuinely cared for his well-being. It was a cynical thought, but he couldn't help it. Years of mistrust and abuse because of his cursed form had caused him to doubt the good intentions of others.
“I shall give thy council some thought,” Frog said at last.
“Good.” Rising to her feet, the woman smoothed out her habit. “Feel free to stay as long as you like. I have some things I must attend to, now.”
Frog rose to his feet as well and bowed to her. “T'is been a long time since I hath received such kindness. I thank you.” He started as she placed her thin, warm hands on the sides of his face and gave him a motherly kiss on the forehead.
“May the Forest’s grace go with you,” she said. Then she smiled at him, turned, and exited the main chapel through a side door.
Frog resumed his seat and stared at the candles. Now that he was alone, he wasn’t too sure what to do. He had snuck away to find a place to think. He hadn’t counted on talking to another person about his problems. But now that he had, he felt as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
He sat for a while longer, admiring the way the candle light cast Fiona’s statue in a heavenly glow. It had been brought out from a private sepulcher in the back to fill the vacancy that Robo left when he’d been reactivated.
The Fiona that he knew was just an ordinary woman with a love of plants back in 600 A.D. Seeing her here, portrayed as a saint, was a little disconcerting. At the very least, Frog imagined that Fiona would blush to the roots of her blonde hair if she knew what sort of status her actions would bring her in the future.
“Here you are,” said a quiet, annoyed voice at his elbow. “Why am I not surprised?”
Frog’s hand was halfway to his hilt before he remembered that he’d left the Masamune back at camp. “Magus,” he spat. “Dost thou enjoy sneaking about?”
“Sometimes,” the wizard replied with a shrug. “But that’s not the point. What’re you doing here?”
“T'is none of thy business, fiend.”
Magus flashed a dark smile. “I’m making it my business, Froggy. Crono and the others will throw a fit if they find you missing. I don’t want to have to deal with their hysterics.”
Frog grunted. “And what of you, wizard? Will they not suspect some sort of foul plot if they doth find both of us missing?”
Magus opened his mouth to make a sarcastic retort, then paused. “I hadn’t thought about that.” He ran a hand through his blue hair with an irritated sigh. “You’re such a pain in the ass. If you’d just stayed where you were supposed to and went to sleep like everyone else, we wouldn’t be in this mess.” Throwing up his hands, he shook his head. “Well, that’s what happens when dealing with idiots, I suppose. Let’s get back before anyone notices we’re gone. Come on.” He turned and started walking towards the door, expecting Frog to follow behind him.
“Fiend,” the knight muttered again, and hurried to catch up.
--
The moon cast silvery light between the boughs of the thick foliage over their heads as they made their way back. It turned the world to shades of black, white, and gray. Even Magus’s brilliant blue hair and Frog’s emerald-green skin were turned to ashen colors as the pair pressed through the undergrowth and around tree trunks much thicker than their torsos combined.
The silence between them made the crunch of Frog’s boots on dead leaves that much louder. Magus seemed content to float along side his companion, a menacing shadow, silent and ethereal. But Frog found the loudness of his own footfalls distressing.
Clearing his throat, he asked, “So, dost thou have trouble sleeping as well?” When Magus didn’t answer, he cleared his throat again. “Mayhap…thou hast troubling dreams?” This last bit came out unintentionally accusing and cold, but he let the words stand.
The warlock’s reply was just as terse. “Do you?”
Frog paused his strides. Magus floated ahead of him, either uncaring or unaware that the knight had stopped walking. All Frog could see was the wizard’s back, covered as it was by his ever-present purple cloak and his long blue hair.
Drawing in a shaky breath to reduce the level of tension building between his shoulders, the amphibian nodded. His voice came out as a half whisper. “Sometimes.”
They continued in silence again.
Just as Frog opened his mouth to break the monotony a second time, Magus spoke.
“I don’t remember most of my dreams,” he said haltingly. “To dream is to sleep too deeply, and being who I am, I can’t afford to let my guard down for that long.” He hesitated, then added, “But when I do remember my dreams, they aren’t always…pleasant.”
Frog wanted to make some sort of quip about Magus being plagued by a guilty conscience but couldn’t find the old fire to do so. There was something insecure and haunted in the Mystic’s voice, and Frog wasn’t in the habit of kicking a man when he was down, even if that man happened to be the Magus.
“Instead of dreaming, I tend to think,” the wizard went on. “Mostly about things I can’t change, which is just as bad.” Frog watched as his hand moved up to touch something concealed under the collar of his shirt, then drop away.
“Like the death of Lady Schala?” The words were out of his mouth before Frog even realized it.
Magus twisted about so fast that his hair and cape billowed around him. “She’s not dead!” His lavender eyes fairly glowed in the whiteness of his face, adding color to his otherwise moon-bleached countenance. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll shut your damn mouth before I break every bone in your body!”
Frog took a step backward, falling into a defensive stance. Even without his scythe, Magus was a formidable opponent. If it were merely a battle of strength, they were about evenly matched. If it came down to a magic duel, however…
Frog chose his next words carefully, aware that another wrong sentence would severe the razor-thin thread that was Magus’s temper. “Forgive me. I spoke in haste and without thought. I didst not mean to cause offense.”
The wizard continued to glare at him for a moment or two, and Frog was afraid that apologies might not reach him at this point. At last, Magus backed down, the glow of his eyes abating.
“She’s not dead,” he repeated stubbornly before turning away, and Frog breathed an inward sigh of relief.
The forest gave way to a sizable glade. Several flat-topped boulders edged a good-sized stream that ran like a line of silver under the moonlight. They weren’t too far from the others, now.
Frog hurried his pace, but Magus veered off. He leapt with ease to stand on one of the rocks, staring down at the stream.
The amphibian knight halted. “Uh, Magus…?”
“You go on ahead.”
“But, the others—”
“—won’t care if I’m there or not. I'll follow after in a little while. For now, I desire to be alone.”
Frog watched as the warlock sat down, then lay back on the rock, pillowing his arms behind his head as he stared upward past the treetops to the starry sky.
“I canst just leave thee by thyself! A holy forest this may be, but monsters knoweth not about such things.”
Magus gave a sharp laugh. “What’s with this false concern? Don’t tell me you’re actually worried about me? I can handle one or two piffling monsters by myself without you there to hold my hand.”
Frog shook his head in disgust. “Far be it from me to show concern for you, villain.”
“Then take a hint and get lost.”
The small amphibian drew himself up stiffly. “That I shall. And if, perchance, thou findeth thyself awakening in the belly of some beast, t'is thine own fault for not taking heed of my warnings.” He turned with a snap of his cape, fully intent on leaving Magus to his own devices.
T'is no concern of mine if he doth desire to remain apart from the group. Good riddance!
And yet, even as he began to walk away, Frog found himself glancing over his shoulder at where Magus reclined on the rock. Though it had been for his own motives, the wizard had come to fetch him. Despite their enmity, it just didn't seem right to leave him behind like this. After all, they were closer now than they'd ever been.
The blood rushed to his cheeks as images rose, unbidden, to his mind along with ghostly sensations. That night had been filled with anger, yes, but also a strange tenderness. He could still recall the taste of Magus's mouth, the hard heat that had brought tears of pain and pleasure to his eyes as the wizard laid claim to him. How Frog had prayed to the ghost of Cyrus to forgive him, swearing to think on it no more, but unable to stop his imagination from retrieving the memories despite his best attempts to quash them.
That intimacy could be his again, if he but made the advance. He doubted the wizard would find it unwelcome.
Angrily, he tried to shake off the lust stirring in his groin. His hands clenched at his sides. One night of betrayal was enough; how could he even consider repeating it?
The amphibian took several firm steps away from the glade, only to stop short a second time with a sigh.
To stay is to invite the unthinkable. I shouldst leave before anything happens.
That was what he told himself, and he knew it was for sanity’s sake that he follow through with it. But he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t walk away from someone he acknowledged as a companion, even if it were only a temporary alliance.
Cyrus, forgive me.
Frog trudged back to where Magus was laying. He ignored the raised eyebrow leveled at him as he clambered up beside the Mystic.
“Couldn’t stay away, could you?”
“Quiet, fiend. I wouldst not be able to sleep knowing that thou wert alone and, perchance, plotting some foul scheme. So I didst return to keep an eye on thee.”
“Are you certain that’s the only reason?” Magus let his eyes drift lower, taking in the awkward way the amphibian was sitting. A small smirk was playing about his colorless lips.
Frog glowered down at him, hoping against hope that his partial erection hadn’t been visible enough for the other man to notice. “What other reason art thou implying, wizard?”
Instead of answering, Magus unwound his left arm from behind his head and brushed the backs of his gloved fingers down the knight’s closest arm. It was a slow, lingering caress, one that raised gooseflesh on Frog's green skin.
“Do you ever think about it?” Magus asked abruptly.
“About what?” It was so hard to keep his breathing steady with those fingers sensually tracing the brown markings on the side of his arm.
“That night.”
Frog shifted uncomfortably, saying nothing.
“You think about it all the time, don’t you?”
“Not all the time,” he replied peevishly. “I had thought that encounter laid to rest...that we wouldst not speak of it again.” He sighed heavily. “How long didst thou plan to linger here? We should return.” He made as if to stand again.
“You said last time you would stay if I wished it,” Magus reminded him. “So...stay.”
The knight looked at the Mystic helplessly. He had made that promise believing that there would never be a second liaison. Honor demanded he keep his word. With reluctance, he resumed his seat.
“We have some time left,” Magus went on. “Since we're both wide awake, why not have a little fun to exhaust some of our energy?” His voice was midnight seduction, inviting and deadly.
Frog's half-lidded eyes widened slightly. “Art thou suggesting that we...er...again?” He couldn't bring himself to mention the act.
The blush that stained his green complexion made the warlock roll his eyes. “Yes, that is exactly what I'm suggesting, Froggy.”
“T’is a dangerous gamble. Should we be caught...”
The smirk the wizard offered him was unconcerned. “That should make this tryst all the more exciting, wouldn't you say? If we're quick, no one need be the wiser.”
Frog shivered as fingers caressed under his chin, making the reflexive, nervous swallow he gave painfully obvious. His voice was non-committal. “Perhaps. Wilt thou restore my previous countenance?”
“Why?”
Frog blinked at him. “Because...I am a frog.”
“And?”
Now the knight really stared. “And t’would be vulgar if thou wert to have relations with a frog!”
Magus laughed. “You’re forgetting, I was leader of the Mystics. I’ve had ‘relations’ with stranger creatures than you. Besides,” he added, cutting off Frog’s sputtering, “I said we need to keep this encounter short.”
“T’is unseemly—” Frog made an undignified ribbit as Magus sat up and thrust a hand between the knight’s legs, palming his groin roughly.
“Somehow, I don’t think this is protesting as much as you are.”
“Unhand me, villain! Thou art too familiar!” Frog’s words sounded significantly less menacing with his maleness twitching in the warlock’s grip. One hand flew up to push at Magus’s chest, the other trying to pry the fingers from between his thighs. “I shant give in to thee this time! Cease this madness!”
But Magus only laughed again. “You don’t mean that, and you know it. You already gave yourself to me once. Why fight what we both know you want so badly?”
“Nay...please...” Frog pushed at the wizard again, but his efforts were weaker than before. He felt his resolve breaking, even as he fought the urge to press upward into the hand coaxing him to life. “Do not lead me to shame myself again, I beg thee.”
For a moment, an angry look crossed the Mystic’s face and his movements stilled. “There is nothing pure in this world. The only certainty is death. There is no shame in taking what pleasure is offered in this miserable life.”
Frog became still as well. He regarded the other man, wondering at the bitterness he heard in those words. “Magus...”
“You can try to lie to yourself, but the fact remains that you want this to happen!” Magus leaned closer, whispering hotly in Frog’s ear, “Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy yourself with me, that my touch hasn’t haunted you every night since. Not when I can still feel you clenching around me in those final moments before I shattered you.”
Frog made a soft, distressed croaking in the back of his throat. He squeezed his large eyes shut, unable to deny the power those words had over him. His small body trembled as the flames of desire flickering in his belly grew into a raging blaze that had him almost painfully aroused. He clenched one hand in Magus’s shirt while the other pressed the wizard’s hand more firmly against him.
“D-damn you!” Frog all but moaned as he rocked his hips against the Mystic’s palm. “Thou art evil...and twisted...and...”
“And you can't stop yourself from wanting me,” Magus finished with a cruel chuckle. “Your conscience torments you far greater than I ever could, Froggy.”
The knight managed a glare. “Instead of prattling nonsense, fiend, tell me of thy intentions lest I spend myself in the waiting.”
The wizard stroked the knight’s green cheek, making the amphibian flinch. Magus’s gloves were smooth from constant use and warm from his body heat, but they carried with them the faint scent of blood. He left his hand on Frog's face, turning his head so their eyes met.
“Do you trust me?”
Frog snorted. “Nay.”
Magus looked like he were searching for patience. “Could you trust me?”
“That depends. What is thy plan?”
“This.”
The hand on Frog's face caressed lower, past his jawline, down his throat. Magus's breath quickened a fraction as his grip tightened around the knight’s windpipe. He leaned into Frog, forcing him flat on his back in one fluid motion.
The amphibian made little gagging sounds. His eyes bulged with fear, surprise, and a hint of anger mixed in their yellow depths. His first instinct was to throw the wizard off of him. He bucked violently, shoving at Magus’s shoulders.
The Mystic scowled down in annoyance. “Be still! Stop thrashing about! You're in no danger, you idiot frog!”
The knight had half-summoned his Water magic to him before he realized the other man was telling the truth. Though Magus's hand was clamped tightly under his chin, the pressure wasn't enough to damage him, and he sensed no killing intent. Reluctantly, he calmed himself but his gaze remained wary. He had no idea what game the wizard was playing, but for the moment he was willing to believe that this wasn't some sort of murder attempt.
Though he could still feel the tension in the body under him, the knight's hands slid back down along Magus’s leather breastplate to relax on the warlock’s hips. He nodded approvingly. “That's better.”
Keeping his left hand firmly over Frog’s throat, Magus used his right to undo the other’s pants. He pulled aside the flaps of fabric before darting his hand inside. His leather-clad fingers trailed over the length of flesh there. It was just the lightest brush, teasing. The touches were so soft they almost tickled.
Frog’s hips jerked involuntarily. Despite the strangeness of the situation, his arousal hadn't diminished in the slightest.
Magus kept their eyes locked together as he curled his fingers around the base of the knight's shaft. He squeezed and stroked upward. The movement elicited a gurgled gasp from the prone knight and a clear drop of fluid clung to the warlock's gloved fingertips as he stroked back downward. With precision, Magus rotated his thumb and forefinger around the achingly sensitive ridge at the base of the amphibian's swollen glans. The knight's hips jumped again and his cock pulsed so hard it left another sticky kiss on Magus's palm.
The warlock eased the turgid length free of the confines of Frog's pants. He marveled at the way the blood darkened the emerald skin to near black in the moonlight. Despite the rest of Frog's ungainly appearance, this one thing had not changed between his amphibian and human form. With slow, steady motions he began to pump the knight's cock.
It was so hard to breathe with the wizard’s hand pressing into his neck, but somehow the lack of oxygen was making the sensations in his groin more intense. The feel of smooth, warm leather manipulating his shaft was almost too much. Frog's mouth opened wide and a thin whine trickled out.
“Close your eyes,” Magus urged. “Just feel. It'll bring you over the edge in seconds, I promise you.”
Frog whimpered, his expression tormented, and not simply from lust. Magus was asking for the knight to relinquish complete control to him, to lay passive in this position of vulnerability, and place faith in the hope that it wasn't a ploy in order to choke the life out of him. That would require the ultimate act of submission.
I darest not, he thought. He is mine sworn enemy. T'would be folly to trust him so completely.
He took a moment to look the wizard over, trying to discern any hidden intentions. The man's cheeks were flushed, his breathing quick, a cruel smile quirking his lips. A light went on in Frog's mind and he gained sudden understanding.
He is excited by the violence of this act.
Though that was hardly surprising. It stood to reason that a creature such as the Magus would find arousal in lording power over someone else.
And yet, the heat pooling between his legs begged Frog to give in. His balls ached with the need for release. His cock was drooling liquid continuously, now, easing the slide of smooth leather against the veiny skin.
Magus's lavender eyes bored into his. “Let go, Glenn.”
I am such a fool.
Frog let his eyes fall shut and surrendered. Colored lights danced beneath his closed lids. His fingers dug into Magus's thighs, bunching the material. He could barely lift his hips, trapped as his legs were between the warlock's, but his cock throbbed and swayed within Magus's sure grip as he tried to thrust into his palm.
The Mystic paused a moment to pull his glove off with his teeth. His bared fingers felt as hot as firebrands against the amphibian's cool skin when he returned them to wrap around Frog's manhood. He smeared the wetness dripping down the sides, using the lubrication to speed his motions. The slide of slick skin against skin was mind-blowing.
Frog couldn't hold back. The pleasure was bordering on pain. He could feel the release building in him, tightening his stomach and buttocks. His lungs screamed for air, even as he found himself holding what little breath he had left.
And then Magus's hand on his throat tightened further. The increased pressure, that mild pain and the complete lack of air, sent him over the brink. His orgasm crashed into him with more intensity than he'd ever felt it. His back arched. He would have cried out had he the breath for it. His fingers clenched hard on Magus's thighs as he spilled himself in gush after hot gush over the wizard's pumping hand.
Magus eased his grip on the knight's neck and sat back on his heels with a look of triumph. He continued to stroke Frog's softening member until the last of the spasms ended.
When it was finished, Frog fell back against the rock with a noisy clank of his armor. He dragged in ragged lungfuls of air as he panted in the aftermath. Now that it was over, his neck was tender and he was more than a little dizzy. This irritated him on some levels, but he couldn't deny how powerful his release had been.
Magus left him to recuperate and got down from the rock. He walked to the water's edge to wash off his hand and glove.
I shouldst do the same.
Moving was a supreme effort. All he wanted to do now was go to sleep. Even so, Frog managed to push himself up with a groan. He trailed after and cleaned himself as best he could without soaking the rest of his clothing. Having nothing else to dry with, he used one of the corners of his cape.
Magus shook water from his hand and waved it to air dry. “See? That wasn't a bad time, was it?”
“I do not wish to speak of it.” The knight's voice was hoarse. He hoped it would be fine tomorrow, with no bruises left on his neck. He didn't want the others to have any cause for suspicion.
But Magus was relentless. “I wish you could have seen yourself writhing beneath me!” He chuckled with sadistic amusement as he replaced his glove. “I bet your precious Cyrus would spin in his grave to know you came under the very hands that cut him down.”
Though those words stung, Frog refrained from rising to the bait. He would not give Magus the satisfaction.
Instead, he replied tiredly, “Thy wickedness shan’t be satisfied til thou hast had thy way with me. Speak quickly, villain. Tell me what thou dost desire so we can away.”
“You're a fast learner.” Magus walked past Frog back to their rock and leaned the small of his back against it. He looked so confidant and relaxed, it was vexing. “Come here.”
Frog did as he was told. He stopped before the wizard and waited.
Magus waved toward his own groin a bit impatiently. “Hop to it, Froggy. I've done enough demonstrations for one evening. I'm sure you can figure out what to do from here.”
Quirking an eyebrow, Frog stepped closer to the taller Mystic. He skimmed the fingers of his right hand down across the armor covering Magus's chest and stomach before cupping the tooled bulge between his legs.
Magus blinked slowly and exhaled. “Now you're catching on.”
The knight raised his other hand, but before it could get within inches of the warlock's neck, his wrist was grabbed. He looked at the other in startled confusion. “What--”
“Sorry, but that's not happening.”
Frog's ire rose. He pulled his arm free with a yank and glared. “What be'est the problem, Magus? Afeared for thy life?”
The Mystic's smile was cool. “Let's just say I have more to lose than you do.”
“I have told thee, we needest thy powers to defeat Lavos. Thou didst speak earlier of trust. Perhaps thou shouldst consider extending a portion my way. I give my word that I shan't kill you this night.”
But Magus shook his head. “You'll forgive me if I have trouble believing that. You've spent the better part of the last ten years hungering for my death, and now you tell me you'd forgo the chance to end my life?”
“Aye.”
“Then you really are an idiot.” Magus reached up and tucked blue hair behind his tapered ears. “Even if you're sincere, the emotional turmoil you'll experience from such an act might prove too overwhelming. I'm not about to risk being strangled by the likes of you, Sir Knight. Besides,” he said, and cradled Frog's chin. He ran his thumb meaningfully along green lips. “There are other methods you can use to pleasure me.”
The amphibian gave him a wry look. “Thou doth desire to test the limberness of mine tongue? A frog's tongue?”
Magus smirked, saying nothing, but the amphibian still detected the faint shiver of anticipation that his words elicited.
He boldly ran his hands across the front of the other's codpiece. “Thou art a depraved fiend, Magus. And overdressed, methinks.”
He felt up and under the blue cumber-band around Magus's waist for the fastenings to his lower armor. The hardened leather came loose in his hands and he set it aside. The front of the wizard's pants immediately tented now that his erection had room to move. He spread his feet a little wider so Frog could kneel between them.
For his part, the knight concentrated on the outline of the wizard's maleness straining against the purple fabric. He brushed a finger down it teasingly, as had been done to him. He was gratified to feel the answering pulse against his fingertip.
Leaning forward, he planted a gentle kiss against the hot length, followed by another, and another. He pressed a little harder with his lips each time until he was mouthing the wizard through the thin material.
Above him, he heard a soft sigh. One of Magus's hands skimmed across the amphibian's wide forehead and around to cup the back of his skull. He pushed his hips insistently against Frog's face. “More,” he demanded.
Frog's hands roamed up the sides of Magus's muscled legs to the waistband of his pants. The lacings came undone easily and he tugged the garment down to the wizard's knees.
Their last encounter had happened so fast, he hadn't been able to get a good look at the man's endowments. Like the rest of Magus, the skin of his shaft was unnaturally pale, though the head was tinged a dark rose hue. His manhood was also thick, and proudly curved up and away from his body. A shiver ran down Frog's spine to tingle between his buttocks as he recalled being spiked upon that hardness.
Magus squeezed the back of Frog's head and shook him a little to get his attention. “You'd better not be comparing me to someone,” he growled.
“Why? Afraid that thou might not measure up?” Frog chuckled at Magus's outraged expression. Two canst play at this game, he thought before leaning in and giving the bobbing cock before him its first experimental slurp.
Magus was fuming as best he could under the circumstances. “Stupid...irritating...amphibia—aah—aaahhh...” His legs trembled as his length was bathed by wet softness running from the sensitive underside of his shaft to the slit. He bit his lower lip to stifle another gasp as Frog took the head into his mouth and swirled his flexible tongue all around it.
After a moment, the knight withdrew and continued to stroke with his hand. His saliva eased the passage of his fingers, but his gloves were not as smooth as the Mystic's. Still, looking up at the wizard's face left little room for doubt that the he enjoyed the roughness.
“Forgive me,” Frog said, all innocence. He flicked his tongue against the spot where Magus's cock joined his testicles. “Thou wert saying something?”
Magus panted. “Idiotic...toadying...” His words trailed off into a low cry as Frog slowly licked and sucked his arousal into his mouth again.
The stiffness against his tongue grew even harder, if that were possible. Magus's reluctant whimpers of ecstasy were a sweet accompaniment to the sound of wet suction. Frog slid his mouth all the way down, taking Magus fully. One advantage to this form, it seemed, was that his oral cavity was far bigger than it would be as a human. He was able to accept the throbbing shaft completely without gagging in the slightest. He plunged deeply onto the wizard's cock, tasting the slight tang of sweat and sticky bitterness.
Magus rumbled a groan.
Drawing back, he regarded the Mystic with a self-satisfied smile. "What? No more insults, wizard? Can it be I hath found thy secondary weakness?"
"Shut up," was the weak retort. "Don't stop."
Pleased to have finally gained the upper hand, Frog redoubled his efforts. While he pumped the wizard's cock slowly, he brought the heavy balls forward and took them into his mouth. Magus groaned deeper as warm wetness enveloped him.
The knight massaged his right index finger along the warlock's perineum. Magus's thighs tensed and he sucked in a breath. It wasn't until Frog brushed against his opening that he tried to jerk away.
"No!"
Frog released him from his mouth, startled. He glanced up at Magus. The warlock's lavender eyes were narrowed and his jaw was set. He looked torn between fight or flight.
"Be at ease," Frog soothed. "I shall do nothing that thou dost not wish."
It took a moment, but the wizard relaxed again. He seemed annoyed and embarrassed by his own reaction. "The first part was fine," he muttered, not looking at Frog. "I just...I'm not..." He broke off with a frustrated sigh. "It doesn't matter. Finish me off, already."
Frog grasped the naked hips in front of him and returned his mouth to Magus's cock. It had deflated somewhat, but he quickly got it hard again. He slurped and licked noisily back and forth, tugging the thick length with suctioning lips.
Magus leaned on one elbow against the rock while keeping the other hand on the back of Frog's neck, coaxing him to work faster.
Frog did so. He grasped one firm buttock in each palm for leverage as he thoroughly began to mouth-fuck his enemy. He curled his long tongue around the hard heat dripping against his taste-buds, swirling about it in spiral patterns. Magus's hips soon took up the rhythm his nemesis had set, pushing that wide, green face hard against himself.
Frog took Magus's testicles in hand again, massaging and tugging on them gently. He let the Mystic use his mouth as he wanted, accepting each driving thrust, heedless of the saliva dripping down his chin.
The wizard bent forward. His long blue hair tickled Frog's face as he sawed his cock in and out of the knight's mouth with rampant vigor. Magus's balls contracted in his palm.
"I'm close!” he hissed through clenched teeth.
A few more thrusts and Magus let out a guttural cry. He stiffened, pressing as deep into Frog's mouth as he could, releasing his hot, bitter seed in gooey pulses across the other's tongue. When the final burst of pleasure ended, Magus slumped back against the rock and released his death-grip on Frog's head.
Frog turned his face and spat the mouthful of semen onto the leaves and grass.
"Not a fan, I take it?" Magus remarked with a shaky, breathless laugh.
Frog grimaced. "Nay."
"Not even with Cyrus?"
"Thou art in the habit of asking personal questions that are none of thy business." Frog went to the stream's edge and scooped some water up to his mouth, swishing it around before spitting it out. After repeating this a few times, he wiped his lips on the back of his arm. When he turned and found Magus smirking at him again, he mumbled, "I hath never liked the flavor, nor the texture." Changing the subject, he asked, “Art thou finally ready to return?”
“I think so.” As he was tucking himself back into his pants, Magus nodded at Frog. “You'd best get yourself in order, too. No sense scaring the ladies; my ears couldn't take their shrieking.”
The amphibian looked down to his unlaced pants front, still widely displaying his groin for the world to see. “Er, yes.”
When they were both presentable again, they left the glade in silence. Though his footfalls were still as loud as before, Frog didn't feel the need to fill the empty air between them with chatter as he had earlier. He was suffused with a strange feeling of peace and contentment. Even Magus seemed oddly at ease as he floated close by the knight's elbow instead of apart as he usually did.
The light of the camp fire twinkled like an orange dot at first and grew steadily brighter as they approached.
Before they got too close, Frog paused. He reached out and grabbed Magus's wrist. “Hold,” he murmured. “There is something I needs must say.”
Magus looked down at the hand gripping him. Frog thought he might shake free, but instead, he raised cautiously inquisitive eyes to meet his. “You're not about to swear undying love to me, are you?”
Irritation sparked. “Hardly. I...just wanted to thank thee.”
“For what?”
“Tonight. T'would seem thy insight was correct about me.” Taking a deep breath, Frog said in a rush, “I didst want thee, though I had not the courage to say it. By rights, I shouldst destroy thee where thou standeth.”
“Then why not do so?”
“Dost thou long for death so badly, wizard?” The words were spoken barely above a whisper. “In truth, I knoweth not why. Once, I would have, without a second thought. But now...” He shook his green head and croaked. “I only know that I am learning there is more to thee than thou wouldst reveal.”
“Such as?”
Frog shrugged. “Thou couldst have taken thy pleasure and forsaken me. T'was no need to see to my needs first, or at all. And yet, thou didst. What is that, if not kindness?”
Magus stared and then gave an incredulous laugh. “You think what I did was out of concern for your feelings?” He shook free from the knight's hold on him. “You think too highly of yourself. Why would I ever be worried about pleasing you?”
“What wouldst thou call it, then?”
“The best way to get what I wanted! If I had told you I wanted you to fall to your knees and worship me with your mouth, I think one of us would be dead at this point. Rather than waste time fighting you, it was far easier to render you incapable of rational thought. You're much more agreeable in the afterglow.” Magus sliced a hand through the air. “Heed my words well, Froggy. None of this has ever been for your sake! It was all purely for my own enjoyment.”
“Thy deeds do not reflect they words, but still...I thank thee.” Frog blushed. “I, too, enjoyed it. More than I didst believe I would, to be sure.”
Magus made a noise of exasperation and turned away. “Good for you.” He floated ahead, resuming the distance between them that was so typical of the Mystic.
Frog watched him and croaked another a sigh. T'is what I should have expected. At least he did not mock my weakness.
It was becoming all too clear that the wizard had no qualms about giving in to his passions, whatever form they decided to take. Only Frog was suffering. Guilt and shame washed over him, as it always did when he stopped to think about how things were progressing between himself and Cyrus's murder. He wished he could say that the butterflies churning his stomach were solely from disgust when he recalled the wizard's touch, but he knew it for the blatant lie it was. Even now, he partially regretted not offering himself to the wizard instead of finishing him off with his mouth.
T'was such an easy matter, avenging a beloved friend, he thought morosely. Now, t'is complicated.
With the faint taste of Magus still lingering on his palate, Frog followed after.
--
Magus returned to the tree he'd picked out for himself and settled against it in a huff. The bark was hard against his back. He watched Frog return to his own place near the fire and flop down onto his stomach. The knight was asleep in seconds, or at least pretending to be. The others were still sleeping, oblivious to the fact their companions had ever been gone in the first place.
Drawing his cloak closer around him, Magus allowed himself an inaudible sigh.
Why did the stupid amphibian have to speak of such sentimental rubbish? He'd soured the experience by trying to turn an evening of physical carnality into something deep and beautiful. Yes, Magus had brought the knight to climax, but he'd done so while squeezing the life out of him. And then, to have Guardia's finest living swordsman on his knees, slurping greedily at his hard cock... It was intoxicating to know that he wielded such power over the amphibian. He'd had the green lout completely at his mercy. The power trip was as heady as any wine could be, and tasted just as sweet.
And yet, Magus had experienced something warm vying with the shock he'd felt at the knight's sincerity: it was a momentary spark of happiness. It had been years since anyone had thanked him for anything, and certainly never for...that.
He wanted to tear that happiness to shreds. The fact that he'd even felt that weak emotion meant he was dancing too close to the fire. It was his game, and he'd be damned if he'd be the one who got burned by it! Perhaps now was a good place to cut this strange relationship short.
But am I really ready to give this up? Glancing back in the knight's direction, Magus tried to maintain a detached feeling of superiority. He is nothing to me, just a diversion. These encounters of ours are simply another way for me to hurt him.
And Magus knew the experiences had to hurt, if only because of the stupid amphibian's over-blown sense of honor and loyalty. The torment of desiring the very person who had killed Cyrus had to have stung like salt in a wound, and the warlock wished to enjoy every second of the knight's distress.
Even so, he couldn't deny that the feel of Glenn's hard, lean body still resonated in his darkest fantasies. Taking him that night was a memory that replayed itself in the Mystic's mind far more often than he'd like to admit, even to himself.
He's a toy, not an addiction, Magus reasoned. I can cast him aside whenever I choose. So long as I remember that, I have nothing to fear.
Saying that made him feel better, even if a little voice in the back of his mind wasn't so sure of how truthful it was.
- 1
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Green Dream