Once Wizardmon returned to his room, the weight of what had happened between himself and Myotismon hit him, and he felt the urge to find a bottle of anything and snap his sobriety in two. The only things stopping him were that he didn't have any alcohol lying around and he wasn't up to venturing back out to acquire it. Well that, and the fact Gatomon would claw the hell out of him for touching the stuff.
Wait, that brought up something else that seemed very wrong; where was Gatomon if she wasn't lying in wait for him here? She was more than concerned when he left…
The small wizard covered his eyes with his hands and raked them up his face. They stopped once they'd burrowed into his hair and about knocked his hat off his head. "Uuugh…not getting into any trouble, I hope…" He looked at the door wearily. No. He couldn't go back out tonight. Too much had happened today. Too many strange things had happened today, and he couldn't muster enough mental stability to go out there to hunt for his furry friend amongst the hordes of gossip-mongers traversing the castle.
Screw it, Gatomon was always going on about how she could take care of herself and how he needed looking after. She was probably holed up in her own room or taking her anxieties out on some unfortunate chumps. It's not like there were anyone else around here she could confide in.
Having already decided not to venture out, Wizardmon let go of his hair and let his hat fall off. He lazily combed the knots he'd made in his straw-like hair with his gloved fingers and mumbled to himself that she was fine. He headed for the bed, stripping off his cloak, boots and gloves and unzipping his suit some so he could get more air. After letting his clothes fall where they may, he flopped into bed with the quietest of groans.
His injuries from the other day felt a little better, even with some visible bruising. That wasn't why he felt sick though. That came from dwelling on his Lord's odd behavior and that damnable kiss that'd been planted on him. Once his worry for Gatomon dissipated, it popped right back to mind as he was trying to get to bed and out of this nightmare. Just-why? What did Myotismon have to gain from that? Did he honestly consider it a 'reward?' Wizardmon somewhat doubted it, but there was a small part of him that rationalized it would be a fair reward. That same part of him that had enjoyed it, and even anticipated another. 'This will haunt me years into my future, without a doubt.' He thought sourly. No matter how much he attributed his brief enjoyment to his lack of intimate physical contact with others over the years, he couldn't get over it. He'd kissed the most feared, reviled, evil being he could think of in the server, and liked it…it was disgusting.
If Myotismon had pulled that tonight, Wizardmon knew there was little chance he wouldn't do something similar again. Realizing a small hope that it would happen again was welling in him, he groaned helplessly, shame quickly overtaking him. "…I think I prefer it when he beats me." The mopey wizard said after mentally scolding himself.
He flipped over several times in bed, finally settling on his back. Thinking about this wasn't helping him get to sleep, and he felt warm from moving around so damn much.
Slowly, Wizardmon opened and shut his eyes, willing himself to be calm and think of something else. Anything else. There had to be something else pressing that he could focus on. After mentally filtering through a myriad of thoughts- some barely trifles and some he didn't even want to begin thinking about, he stopped on one. 'I still haven't told Gatomon I'm taking her punishments from now on.'
That was something he needed to work out. 'If she thinks she's just getting preferential treatment, she might cause trouble and make my punishments worse. I need to break it to her before that happens.' Though, she hadn't taken it well when Myotismon had wanted to see him privately, she'd probably take this even worse. '…She'd probably try to do something rash and instinctive again, like when she tried to run me out of the castle.'
The more he thought about it, the more it felt like not telling Gatomon about any of this was the better option. She wouldn't like it, and she'd probably see through it a little, but it was for her own protection. Or so he rationalized. With that settled, his mind felt tired. With his last few minutes of consciousness Wizardmon thought about what his inevitable run-in with Gatomon would be like in the morning. It was comforting to think of a friend, and his mind was lulled right to sleep.
Most of Wizardmon's dream was a beautiful black abyss: he didn't usually have dreams, and even when he did he barely ever remembered them. This night was very different. It was dark and relaxing for most of the night, but in the last few hours of rest, it brightened and he had a dream. Near the end it felt like the whole thing had been rushed and happened in maybe the span of a few minutes, as are the time-distorting powers of dreamland. He could only clearly remember the last few events, and it felt so natural in the dream, as some dreamthings did.
He was very warm on both sides. His back laid against another person, and his upper back arched a little as he panted; a person his dream self was quite elated to know was Myotismon was whom he was laying on, and a large, gloved hand was feeling up the front of his torso. He barely acknowledged that they were both fully clothed minus his hat and the zipper on his suit being pulled down to expose his less-than-average chest. All he knew was he was far too warm, but enjoying himself none-the-less, and that the lips pressed deliciously firmly against his neck were making him feel hazy but pleasant all over.