A/N: Guzma decided he wanted a chapter to himself. There is implied/referenced non-con/rape is in regards to something that happened in the past. Probably just a few lines in this chapter but there all the same. Also will be references to underage drinking in this chapter and the next.

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Guzma went back to Po Town with his thoughts a jumbled mess. He hadn't even realized he'd scattered a group of other punks when they had seen him prowling back to the mansion in Po Town. It likely had to do with the scary look on his face, but on the inside, Guzma's thoughts were whirling around like crazy.

"Hey boss, I was thinking of making some pancakes in the morning." A female punk called from one of the rooms as Guzma stalked by. "Do I need to send someone out for the mix or berries again?"

"Nah." Guzma paused briefly as he glanced over his shoulder. "Check the refrigerator. There should be some berries left over from yesterday, so long as someone didn't feed it all to a Pokémon." Guzma frowned. "There should be extra pancake mix in storage. Upper shelf."

"Thanks boss." The female punk went back into the room, presumably to check.

Guzma continued onward, the brief distraction welcome, because it gave him time to think things through a little more without embarrassing himself overly much. The next distraction, however, did not do him any favors, and in fact pissed him off instead.

"Boss!"

"Yeah?" Guzma grumbled, about to go outside through a window in order to get to his room. He looked back and saw a male punk standing there and looking very nervous. "What is it?" Guzma asked impatiently.

"Oh, um…" The punk fidgeted, before sighing. "Max is drunk again, and he was throwing things at me."

Guzma twitched before his anger started to build. Guzma gestured wordlessly at the younger punk before him, not trusting himself to speak.

The younger punk took the hint and led the way to the aforementioned Max.

The following minutes passed by in a slew of yelling and arguing, before Guzma emerged from a room, carrying a bag full of several bottles of alcohol. With a final glare at the drunken punk, Guzma stalked off and headed for his room. He had said his piece, and had told Max that if he didn't get his shit together, he was done being in Team Skull. Guzma didn't want any drunken idiots getting themselves or their teammates harmed, or any of the Pokémon around them, if they weren't thinking clearly. A drink now and again Guzma didn't give a shit about but constant drinking he would not tolerate in Po Town at all.

By the time Guzma got to his bedroom on the second floor and slammed the door shut, he was highly agitated. Setting the bottles from the bag onto a nearby shelf, Guzma was very tempted to open one and get himself drunk. But that was a very, very bad idea, considering what had happened to him years ago when he had actually drunk himself silly. It hadn't been a good time, and in order to distance himself from the full bottles of alcohol now on his shelf, Guzma's thoughts strayed back to Nanu and stayed there. It was safer, relatively speaking, to think about the cop instead of the alcohol.

The more Guzma thought about Nanu, the more Guzma began to pace around his room. The embarrassment he'd felt earlier deepened as Guzma thought about what he had done back in the Pokémon Center, and how Nanu had responded to his touch. How it had been clear to Guzma that Nanu had wanted to kiss him back, but the older man's mind and body had been obviously too worn out to follow through. The acceptance of the kiss, however, had given Guzma a boost of confidence he hadn't known he'd needed. Confidence to push Nanu a little farther, just to see what would happen, because Guzma's thoughts then had gone to what they could do with one another apart from argue.

But now that Guzma wasn't in the Pokémon Center any longer, doubt began to creep in, despite the fact that Nanu had given no indication that he hadn't liked Guzma's touch. In fact, Nanu had almost seemed to crave the contact, in a way. It had made him stop acting like an indifferent bastard, for one, Guzma thought with a smile. The younger punk didn't think he's imagined the brief look of shock that had crossed Nanu's features. Guzma smiled a little bit more. He liked the idea that he'd surprised the damn cop. But now that Guzma was thinking more clearly…he began to wonder what Nanu would choose to do about his none too subtle offer to, well…

Guzma went over to his bed and sat down as he dug his hands into his hair. Fingers bumping into oversized sunglasses, Guzma seized them and tossed them aside in order to properly run his hands through his hair. Guzma's hands slowed as fingers gripped white hair tight as he let out a low groan. Had he actually offered to give Nanu a hand job the next time he saw the older man? Or at the very least insinuated that he would do something about the rather obvious erection?

What the hell had he been thinking?

Guzma stood back up and paced his room, unable to prevent a flush from crossing his features as he thought about the idea. It wouldn't be much of a stretch to give someone a hand job, since Guzma wasn't exactly a stranger to jacking off. Not that he would admit to masturbating to Nanu's face. Damn cop would probably be able to tell without Guzma saying a word. Guzma chose in that moment to not think too much about that. Or the fact that he got a bit turned on over the idea of Nanu giving him that fucking half-smirk.

Guzma paused in the middle of the room as he came to the conclusion that he was sort of curious to see what would happen if he pressed Nanu's buttons. If he had any. Man didn't seem to be fazed by much, taking surprises in stride and acting as if they were just another daily occurrence in his boring dreary life. Guzma frowned thoughtfully as he wondered whether or not Nanu had had any sex life to speak of. He lived in a station full of Meowth, for crying out loud, so the chances were that he hadn't recently had any promiscuous encounters. Unless there was some person out there that loved Meowth nearly as much as he did. Not that that would have been a turn on, per say. Guzma actually didn't know what made Nanu tick, and the idea of finding out seemed like it could be fun. After all, Guzma had quite liked the way he'd managed to surprise Nanu back in the Pokémon Center.

Guzma's thoughts turned to his own encounters in the past, wondering if there had been anything he had done that would be useful when dealing with Nanu. It was coming as a bit of a surprise to Guzma that he was even thinking about Nanu in such a way. Guzma half wondered if Nanu would be flattered or horrified that it was his action of pinning Guzma down in the first place that had got the ball rolling, so to speak. Guzma wasn't used to people overpowering him, so it was turn on of sorts even if the situation hadn't been ideal. Guzma grumbled something under his breath, and tried to think about his own relationships, or lack thereof, in the past.

Guzma had only ever slept with women before, maybe once or twice with another man that he couldn't really remember properly. Or, at least, one of those times Guzma told himself he couldn't remember. If he tried to, Guzma would start to get sick to his stomach, and he'd promptly banish any other thought about the man in question. The Team Skull boss felt he was better off not remembering the particulars of that encounter.

Guzma scowled up at the bedroom ceiling as he thought about his past…sexual encounters. Most of the time he'd unfortunately been drunk off his ass and his partners usually just left him to sleep it off. Only once did Guzma vaguely remember having kind of, sort of, sex with a woman during that dark time, though if Guzma recalled right, he hadn't really been into it. Hadn't wanted to do anything but sleep, but the woman had pushed him, and had gotten him turned on enough that she was able to use him to get off. Something Guzma vaguely recalled not caring for at all. Never saw her again after that. Soon after, Guzma stopped drinking altogether, and threw himself into training his Pokémon with renewed vigor, determined to make something of himself.

Guzma shook his head, banishing the unpleasant memories. He'd made a shit ton of bad decisions thought the years. One of which had been to drink so much at the age of 18, and continue to drink too much on and off for two years. Guzma hadn't given a shit about the consequences at the time. Nor the potential of having the cops bust his ass if he'd been caught in public drunk and beating people up. It wasn't the smartest idea Guzma had come up with to deal with his problems of feeling like a failure of a trainer after so many losses in a row with his bug-only Pokémon team. By the age of 18, and not ever being chosen to be a trial captain leading up until that point made going home something that was out of the question. It had led to another, more fatal decision that Guzma would have followed through on if not for his Golisopod caring what happened to him.

The Team Skull boss shook his head roughly with a growl of annoyance. What had he been thinking about before the bullshit had started to come back to him?

Nanu.

Right.

The curiosity was getting the better of Guzma, and the more time he spent around Nanu, the more interested he became. As Guzma had been thinking before, his interest had been drawn when Nanu had managed to overpower him. After the cop's cat had dragged him to the station that one night. And then later, when Guzma had woken up nearly naked, and had taken an immediate defensive nature due to waking up minus most of his clothes. Guzma probably should have mentioned that it was a very similar to the way he'd woken up with the woman that had decided to have sex with him years ago. Except then Guzma had been fully naked. It hadn't been the most pleasant experience, and had turned Guzma off from sex for a good long while. It had therefore been a shock to wake up, sober this time, and find himself in a similar position, though this time around, Nanu hadn't seem to be interested in doing anything other than making sure he didn't get sick.

The panic Guzma had felt when Nanu collapsed on top of him had been genuine, though for a different, far more unpleasant reason than the one night stand with the woman. One he did not decide to dwell on. Guzma had realized that Nanu had not intended to fall on him when Guzma had been so easily able to throw him off despite feeling like shit and shaking like crazy at the time. Shaking, partly, because he had liked the sensation of Nanu's body pressed against him and holding him down. Guzma considered the touch later, after he'd moved Nanu over to the couch. Thought a long time about why his heart had been racing, once he had determined that Nanu had not meant to trap him against the bed. It was further solidified when Nanu had quietly admitted to his body acting up on him.

It had made Guzma realize that Nanu was older than him, but really, Guzma didn't think that Nanu could be older than 50. More like his middle to late 40s. Guzma was in his late 20s, though he really didn't give a shit about the age difference. But Guzma did believe Nanu's mentions about old injuries acting up on him. Clearly the man had seen some crazy shit if he carried around a gun at times and could take someone Guzma's size down without batting his eyes.

Guzma ran his hands through his hair more slowly, before he let out a slow, exasperated breath. He hated thinking about things from the past. It was better off left forgotten. Right now he was more concerned over the fact that he couldn't stop thinking about Nanu. He was a damn cop for crying out loud, and a kahuna, even if Nanu didn't do his damn job as one often. Before, when Guzma had first met Nanu, the younger man had merely found the older cop a nuisance. And then Guzma found out that Nanu couldn't be bothered to do much about Team Skill causing trouble around Alola, and specifically, in Po Town. The only time the man bothered to get up off his ass to do something was when Team Skull attempted to do something dangerous or stole someone's Pokémon.

Guzma went over to the chair in his room and perched on it moodily as he made the attempt to shove down all of the emotions battering his mind. He was the leader of Team Skull. He couldn't afford to be distracted by a cop, and a kahuna. A person that could actively disrupt Team Skull's day to day activities if the man would bother to give a damn about what went on around him. Guzma knew that he had a job to do himself, and he did it well. He would just have to try and ignore his desire to go and check on Nanu.

For now.

Guzma figured that he could always go pester the other man later, once he was back at the station.

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One week later…

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Guzma thought that he might be able to focus on the things that he believed he needed to do for Team Skull, but of course, he couldn't focus on a damn thing. He needed to go bother Nanu. Guzma had wanted to go with the excuse of shaking the cop down for some more food, but as that had already been done recently, Guzma felt that he needed another reason to go. Guzma didn't want any of the other punks in Po Town thinking that he was going soft for worrying over the health of an Alolan cop, even if said cop didn't exactly do anything to impede them.

Not often, anyway.

Guzma could have gone to the police station any time in the past few days. Guzma knew he would have found Nanu there, because one of the punks that tended to loiter outside of the police station had informed Guzma once the older cop had returned. Guzma had been busy after that announcement, cleaning up after some messes that the other Team Skull punks had made.

And now, Guzma had nothing left to do that day. In a way, that was great news, because Guzma couldn't take it any longer. He had to go to the station, and sooner rather than later. Guzma had been losing his damn mind not knowing what Nanu had thought of what he had said and done in the Pokémon Center. And when Guzma did end up seeing the other man, he wasn't sure whether he would punch Nanu or kiss him. Guzma couldn't help but be a little amused over the fact that he hadn't worked up the nerve to leave Po Town until well into the night. It figured that he always seemed to end up going to see Nanu sometime during the night.

Guzma was on pins and needles that evening as his eyes darted around route 17 as he made his way through the rain toward the station. When Guzma got closer, he halted mid step at the sight of a figure standing outside one of the side windows of the station. It was hard to make out who or what it was through the rain, but Guzma could see the figure silhouetted by the light coming out from inside the station. From what Guzma could tell, the figure appeared to be looking inside the station. As soon as Guzma saw what looked like a hand reach out for the window, he started to move again. Bristling over the idea of someone harassing Nanu other than himself, Guzma raised his voice and yelled at whoever or whatever the hell was standing there.

"Hey! What're you doin' out here?" Apparently, the sight of Guzma's tall frame running toward it caused the figure to retreat and vanish behind the station. "Get back here!" Guzma went straight past the side of the station in pursuit. When Guzma rounded the corner, he stopped short, frowning in confusion.

There was no one there.

Guzma rocked back on his heels as he surveyed the immediate area behind the station. There weren't very many places to hide back there, and Guzma didn't think that a human could vanish so quickly without him at least catching sight of the person as they beat a hasty retreat. Guzma figured that a Pokémon could move fast enough to avoid detection, but the silhouette of the figure that he had seen had all but screamed human. Guzma wondered if perhaps he had imagined things. After taking another brief cursory look around the area, Guzma shook his head and walked back to the window at the side of the station. Guzma peered through the window himself and realized that he got a decent view of the station and its interior. And when Guzma glanced down, he saw Nanu sitting on a couch, a bottle in one hand. Upon further inspection, there was a glass sitting forgotten on the table in front of the cop.

Unease crept over Guzma at the sight, and he didn't want to believe what he was seeing, but there it was, right before his eyes. After having confiscated bottles from the drunken punk in Po Town, Guzma had hoped he wouldn't have to see anyone else inebriated. But apparently that was too much to ask for, and so Guzma again was reminded not only of his unpleasant time where he had been drunk, but to further back in his past, when his father had had a bit too much too. That was a memory Guzma would love to forget, as he was fairly sure he still had scars from some of the beat downs that occurred.

With a silent snarl, Guzma banished those thoughts as fast as he could, and focused on the present. On the fact that Nanu was in the station, drinking. The sight made Guzma see red. He hated seeing reminders of his younger self, and he knew he couldn't police what other people chose to do, but Guzma couldn't help himself. He didn't actually want to chase Max off from Team Skull, but Guzma was trying to think about the safety of the team as a whole. Hell, Guzma himself struggled to keep away from alcohol himself. Had to think of some way to distract himself when he really wanted a drink. Or worse had a drink and had to stop himself from having another one, which was always difficult. Guzma's Pokemon usually helped by insisting on his attention.

Guzma shook himself back into the present. Right now, he felt he had to do something, anything, about a cop, and, for Arceus' sake, a kahuna, drinking himself into oblivion. Guzma wouldn't have cared it if was a glass here and there but the sight of Nanu drinking straight out of the bottle sent Guzma into a bit of a panic despite the anger.

Guzma stomped off to the front of the station, his hand resting on the doorknob as a brief flash of unease rose up within him. Guzma stubbornly pushed it down. He was big bad Guzma. He wasn't afraid of anyone or anything. He made people fear him.

It was just Nanu in the station. Nanu wasn't going to hurt him even with a few drinks in him. There was no reason to believe that Nanu would react the same way as his father had in the past…

Guzma grit his teeth as he opened the door and prepared to shove it open the rest of the way. Guzma wasn't sure if he was willing to go any further with the older cop if it was what it looked like. Guzma didn't want to think about the alcohol that Nanu was drinking, because it kept making him flash back to his teenage self….to his father when he was younger, and neither memory were something he wanted to focus on. Guzma desperately pushed down the worry over what Nanu would happen to do if he was drunk. Guzma had decided, years ago, that would be better to beat someone when they were sober than when they were drunk, and would likely not remember it. Guzma would know, after he'd drank so much in those two years after he'd turned 18, even after he'd seen what had happened with his father when he'd been younger. Guzma had made so many terrible decisions, and he didn't want whatever was happening between him and Nanu to be another one.

Guzma closed his eyes and took a deep breath. There was no going back. He was going to go in the station and find out what the hell was going on. Guzma let out a slow breath, opened his eyes, and, squaring his shoulders, pushed the door open roughly to step inside.