Wizardmon woke up slowly, writhing around on his back and peeking his eyes open a few times. He shut them again, trying to hold onto his dream. He had trouble remembering them, so he was just going over what happened in his mind to help him remember.
He remembered it being nice, which was vague and very unhelpful. Another few minutes of lying there with his eyes shut and bits started coming back; lips on his neck, hands slipping into his open suit. Ah, it was one of those dreams. Intimate dreams came along every once in a while, and he couldn't say he didn't enjoy them when they did. Unless they involved someone he knew, then it became awkward. He promptly remembered who was in his dream and this was much more than just 'awkward.'
"Nononononono…." Wizardmon brought his bare hands up to cover his face. Was it possible to be weary after just waking up? He rubbed at his face and sat up, pushing his messy bangs out of his face. That was the last thing he needed right now-a reminder of embarrassing recent events. He didn't want to keep thinking about it because dwelling on it might lead his mind to fantasize about it. Attractive or not, Myotismon was still a horrible digimon. He even had a scheduled beating with him today.
Wizardmon felt around for the edge of the bed and turned himself to get up, feeling the familiar feeling of his groin being warm and a little uncomfortable. No. Nooooo. Wizardmon opened his suit up some more and inspected himself, thankful he wasn't too aroused. If he didn't stimulate himself any more it would go away and he could stop thinking about Myotismon. Hopefully.
He got up and zipped his suit up, busying himself with whatever came to mind; brushing out his knotted hair, making his bed, folding his discarded clothing from the previous night. He stopped at his little desk that had some parchment and some writing implements strewn across it. No longer aroused, he decided to briefly scrawl down the events of his dream being careful not to be too descriptive or think on it for long. He had trouble remembering his dreams and regretfully, he didn't actually want to forget this one.
He was about to set it on the desk and leave when he heard scratching on the other side of his door. Gatomon! "Just a minute!" He yelled, having to raise his voice to a louder volume than he was accustomed to using. He snatched the papers up and looked for a hiding place, deciding to quickly conceal them between some books on his bookcase. He sighed and in a more leisurely manner pulled on his gloves and shoes before answering the door.
"Gatomon?" he asked, swinging the door inward before she could bust it open. Oh, she looked pretty ruffled. And exhausted. Her fur stuck up in a few places, so she obviously hadn't groomed herself. Wizardmon hoped she hadn't actually been up all night worried about him.
"So you're okay!" She smiled with relief, mischief slowly creeping into her expression. "…or maybe not. You look awful."
Gatomon laughed to herself, and Wizardmon followed suit with a chuckle. She must not feel too bad if she could whip out a joke like that. "I do not: you're the one that looks awful." He said, stepping aside and ushering Gatomon into his room. The first thing he did after he shut the door was fetch Gatomon a hand mirror so she could see for herself.
Gatomon 'hmph'd and hopped up on Wizardmon's bed to lie down on her stomach, making herself quite comfortable. "So if you're fine, then what did he do to you?" she asked in an annoyed tone.
Wizardmon took a seat next to her and handed her the mirror. The way she looked at him didn't look 'annoyed,' and he knew better than to believe it. "He didn't 'do' anything to me." He lied, looking at her with an amused smile when she stuck her tongue out at her reflection and tried to fix some of the mess with one of her oversized paws.
Distractedly, Gatomon continued her interrogation unconvinced. "Nothing?" Her ears drooped noticeably and she paused her grooming to give Wizardmon a suspicious look before she went back to it. She asked the next question a few minutes later carefully, deceptively giving off the physical impression that she had dropped the conversation and was focusing on taming her messy fur. "So, what was your prize?"
Wizardmon was startled out of his false sense of security. Darn, Gatomon wasn't going to let this go, and…well, he certainly couldn't tell her the truth. She was eying him right now, too. He'd better start talking before she got impatient. Maybe something that sounded a little like the truth. He could fabricate what happened, but that took more effort and time. "Well, our generous lord invited me into the parlor in his room and offered me a drink and the chance to…" Wizardmon paused, thinking of how exactly Myotismon might have put it. "'Bask in my lord's presence.'"
That earned a snort from Gatomon, and after a minute her sharp gaze softened. "He would say that, wouldn't he?" Wizardmon waited while he thought she considered the situation. She let the mirror hang loosely in her claw. "You let me worry all night for nothin'." She huffed, focusing more on making herself more presentable. "You don't look or smell like you've been drinking either. I'm really glad, but it almost looks like I made a fool out of myself."
Gatomon checked the mirror one more time with a satisfied smirk. "Puuurrrrrrfect." She said, sitting the object down and scooting it away from herself.
It was nice to hear her normal demeanor return, and Wizardmon's lips held onto a small smile as he looked down beside himself at his companion. "I'm sorry I made you trouble yourself."
"Yeah, well you should try not to do it again. I like you more than any of the boneheads around here." Wizardmon hummed softly, and they fell into a pretty comfortable silence as Gatomon squirmed closer and started playing with the zipper at the knee of Wizardmon's pants leg. He fell into his usual habit of petting Gatomon's back as he watched her fascination. On more than one occasion, the pants bit back when unzipped.
The silence was broken when Gatomon made an annoyed noise and seemed to lose interest in Wizardmon's pants. "I'm bored. And I haven't eaten anything since yesterday evening. Put on more clothes so we can go eat."
Wizardmon only seemed amused by her bossiness, and gladly complied.
The day progressed with a little more stress than usual, with curious digimon approaching Wizardmon with questions about his 'reward.'
"No, I'm afraid I'm not allowed to tell you what my reward was." Wizardmon let a tired sigh out as the 20th digimon to come up and ask him about it deflated and seemed outwardly disappointed.
"Aww, c'mon, Wiz. Ya gotta have told somebody. Why can't ya tell me?" asked a female Gazimon with a particularly raw voice. She pointedly looked next to him at Gatomon who stopped eating her breakfast to give a nice steely look right back that made the rookie flinch.
Gatomon 'hmphed,' making a show to look annoyed(which wasn't too hard because she was). "Good luck with that, he won't even tell me what he got."
The Gazimon's posture slumped, even more defeated. "You're kiddin'! Well if you can't get it out of 'im, there ain't any hope for any of us." Fortunately, she didn't need any prompting to leave when she didn't get the information she wanted.
Gatomon growled softly, keeping her voice low enough that only Wizardmon could hear. "Why don't you just tell everyone how dumb your prize was?"
"Do you really think that would go over so well…?" He asked just as quietly in a flat tone.
She thought for a minute. "Proooooobably not." Gatomon chuckled.
They are blissfully unaware that not too far, Phantomon lurked, watching the friends eat their meal with an expression of the utmost malice. Screw the rumors these little twits had manufactured! Screw Wizardmon for stealing the attention away from him. He was the general, damn it! Not the stitched little man that had stolen their master's attention. The menacing ghost heard someone babbling about them around every corner, and he'd reap all the gossipers if they didn't need their army's full strength soon. If their master's finicky whims pointed towards punishing Phantomon for actions preventing these disgusting trendy topics, it wouldn't be pleasant, either.
The pair of friends finish their food and head out to part ways and get on their routines for the day. Before he left Wizardmon made direct eye-contact with Phantomon from far away as he took one last look around the stoney, high-walled cafeteria. He broke it almost immediately and got a serious case of the willies. He could guess why the spooky ghost was leering at him, and it made him uncomfortable to think he now had another thing to worry about ontop of all the things that had been going on recently.
Wizardmon parts with Gatomon and goes through training some younger and new recruits, a little field trip with a group, Demidevimon and more than a few others insistently asking about his 'reward,' lunch, and a brush up on target practice where he found his muscles still ached, but not nearly as bad as the days preceding this one.
It's soon approaching 6pm, and Wizardmon ambled to his master's room. He couldn't remember why he'd been so happy about hearing he was going to receive a punishment last night. He treasured Gatomon, truly he did, but now that he was actually heading for pain the dread really sunk in fast. Well, he was already here and the backlash if he didn't show would probably be far worse than this. He was honestly screwed either way. He knocked, announced himself and entered Myotismon's room when he got a response for him to enter.
When he entered the room, Myotismon seemed to have just picked himself up from lounging on his bed with a book and a wine glass sitting on the little table next to it. He seemed…..pleased beyond reason. From the wide smile he was sporting, Wizardmon might even call him 'chipper.' It made him very uncomfortable.
Myotismon made his way over to Wizardmon when the stout man seemed hesitant to walk more than ten steps into the room. "Wizardmon…..so glad you showed up. She must mean an awful lot to you for you to show such commendable bravery and resolve. Or perhaps foolishness."
He seemed smugger than ever, but his voice was dripping with a tone too melodic to be coming from someone who was about to hand Wizardmon his own ass. The contrast felt incredibly wrong. It had Wizardmon's anxiety rising higher, and his heart pounding in his ears. Underneath that he felt an underwhelming amount of anger and annoyance. It was amazing how small feelings could get crushed beneath bigger priorities, and all Wizardmon could feel right now was the pit of dread in his stomach and his legs weakening as though they were about to fall out from under him.
Wizardmon wet his dry mouth and looked up at Myotismon. "I wouldn't count foolishness out." He whisped, his posture loose and his eyes losing their glimmer as he thought of how much this would hurt. "I would appreciate it if we did not delay this, My Lord." Wizardmon requested, hoping it didn't sound like a demand. The last thing he needed was for Myotismon to become angry, but he had the sneaking suspicion his lord was going to mess with him again.
Myotismon gave Wizardmon and appraising look, his grin turning wicked and familiar. "You'd like to get straight to business then?"
Before Wizardmon could repress a sigh and respond, the first hit was already delivered: a lightening-quick, clean punch to the jaw that had Wizardmon on his ass. There went his hat, falling off to the side. Myotismon was on him again just as he was nursing his jaw and ignored how Wizardmon's arms flinched vaguely into a position to protect himself, hitting the limbs and smacking them out of the way to make way for body blow after body blow. He actually had to bother to be careful because each hit nearly sent Wizardmon flying into the walls. He caught him, he tossed him to the ground. Almost every time Wizardmon's body came in contact with something, sharp, hoarse gasps left his lips. The strings in his mouth occasionally pulled themselves completely taught from how wide he opened his mouth to scream.
The beat-up Wizard could barely get up, and barely wanted to. He knew Myotismon would knock him back down, but he struggled anyway because if he stayed down for too long, Myotismon would just get to crushing Wizardmon's body under his foot. He managed to hold back his tears for much longer than he thought he'd be able to. They only pricked his eyes when his data started distorting as though he might die, and his senses picked up that Myotismon had conjured his Crimson Lightening whip with the most sadistic and ferocious smile Wizardmon had ever seen plastered on his face.
He couldn't do this. He was going to die because of his own stupidity and because Myotismon couldn't contain his own disturbing violent urges. He couldn't! He couldn't die just yet, he still wanted to see Gatomon again! Forget he was doing this for her, he needed it before his data got reconfigured and he had to digivolve and find her all over again.
Shakily, Wizardmon managed to get back on his feet. Before Myotismon brought that horrid whip down on him, he did something he would have thought incredibly stupid if he weren't already in a desperate mindset: he summoned his staff and sent two thunderballs to counter Myotismon. One hit the whip and while it didn't dissipate, it did offset its momentum and made the lash miss him. The other one swerved around and connected with Myotismon's arm and chest.
Poor Wizardmon didn't know what he'd done until it was too late. With wide eyes, he watched as his master staggered back with a hiss and a rare contortion of pain and disgust on his features.
Before Wizardmon could even think Oh shit, Myotismon threw away his lightening and swiped Wizardmon's staff, promptly hurling it across the room at a tremendous speed. It bounced off the wall and skittered back across the floor as Myotismon wrapped his gloved fingers around Wizardmon's throat. The vampire lord was shaking with rage and promptly found a pristine wall to slam Wizardmon's back into. His hand closed around Wizardmon's thin neck tighter and tighter until more tears pricked the wizard's eyes.
Myotismon slams Wizardmon back into the wall one more time, looking into the panicked eyes and watching scrambling hands before throwing him face-first in whatever direction was opposite of the wall. Wizardmon landed a few feet from the bed after sliding towards it painfully on the floor and ending in a gasping heap.
Myotismon breathed hard as he watched the mass on the floor. "The IMPUTENCE!" he snarled as he glared through to the trembling stitch man. "Leave me at once before I rend your fractured data apart."
Wizardmon tried his best in a rush of adrenaline and all-consuming fear to stand up. He was just too weak. His legs buckled underneath him, and he couldn't even summon enough energy to call his staff over. He collapses to the floor, reaching for his staff with all he has, but all the wooden rod does is weakly float for a second and clatter about on the floor.
"Pathetic." Myotismon hisses, prowling over to Wizardmon's ever-trembling form and hoisting him up by the suit. He manages to keep his anger in check and throws the covers open to his bed. He then carelessly tosses his Wizardmon in, not bothering to cover him back up as the man quickly lost consciousness. The lord of Castle Nightmare stormed right out of his own room to keep from tearing his foolish subordinate apart.