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Hollow footsteps echoed off of cold stone as the Galar Champion marched down the long corridor, the path only illuminated by the occasional dim lantern.
The air of the old castle was cool and slightly damp; it was uncomfortably stagnant.
Leon approaches a spiral staircase and confidently follows it up a floor.
Having spent plenty of time in Hammerlocke Castle with Raihan during his earlier years as champion, he knows exactly where he's going.
Or...
Rather...
He did know about a quarter hour ago...
He stops in his tracks, hand to his chin in a contemplative manner.
"Perhaps... I made a wrong turn somewhaur..." he murmured.
No matter! He'll just back track!
~~~
After an additional quarter hour... he began to think that maybe, just maybe, he might be a wee bit lost.
Well, he got to this point by trying to use his brain. So, logically, he should try a different approach! Go with his instincts!
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
Focusing...
Come...
No sooner than he heard the whisper did a force tug at his chest and his feet began to move on their own.
In a daze, he follows corridor after corridor, staircase after staircase, until finally, he arrives at a sturdy, wooden door with a cast iron knob.
Leon blinked a few times as he returned to his senses.
"Ah-ha! This must be it, then!" he announced to himself.
He threw open the door, fully expecting to see the familiar furnishings of his greatest rival's office.
"Bollocks."
What he saw instead was a small study with high ceilings. There were several tall bookcases stacked with old books and various weathered artifacts. Everything was coated in a fine layer of dusk and littered with cobwebs.
He was about to turn heel when something caught his eye.
On one of the shelves, just above eye level, sat a small statue in a glass display case. It appeared to be made of stone, perhaps slate or something of the like. It was in the shape a strange head with a long face and slightly angular features. There were intricate, tribal-like patterns carved into the face.
The brass plaque on the base of the glass display case had long been worn down and was entirely illegible.
Leon pondered for a moment about the origins of the piece...
If he had to wager a guess, he'd say that this artifact may have come from... Alola?
Little did he know, the champion somehow managed to subconsciously open the case and remove the statue while pondering and was now holding it in his bare hands.
Or, mostly bare hands considering he's wearing his trainer glove.
He began to panic, recalling all the times Raihan has explicitly told him not to touch anything without permission and how fragile these things are and how the oils on our skin can cause all sorts of damage-
Meanwhile, the tribal pattern on the statue began to glow red like molten rock.
His hands felt warm for a moment...
and then, they burned.
"Shite!" Leon shouted, automatically letting go of the statue, unintentionally letting it smash to the ground where it fractured into many pieces. Pure white sand spilled out of the apparently hollow center.
He didn't have time to begin panicking over the fact he just broke a probably extremely rare and priceless artifact as he was blown off his feet and onto his ass by an incredible force.
Next thing he knew, the sand began to whip upwards into a swirling whirlwind that spun tighter and tighter, eventually forming a large figure with glowing, silver eyes.
Leon watched in awe as the figure became more clear... more human.
They had broad shoulders and a strong build. Dark purple tattoos, similar in style to the markings on the statue, painted most of their pearlescent skin. Golden-yellow, asymetric horns extended from their temple through thick, shaggy, snow white hair. They also had a whip like tail that lashed back and forth mesmerizingly and large black, feathered wings.
Finally, the figure was complete and the sand fell abruptly to the ground under normal gravity.
"Fuck! Feels great t'be outta dat ting," the man announced as he stretched an arm behind his head, audibly cracking something in the process.
As Leon watched him stretch his taut muscles, it finally dawned on him that the strange being standing before him was completely and entirely naked.
A sharp whistle caught his attention followed by the man cooing, "Hey, pretty boy, you gettin' an eyeful, eh?"
Leon felt his face heat up and he immediately averted his eyes to some unremarkable corner of the room.
The man... creature... very attractive humanoid thing, approached and stood directly in front of him with a hand on his bare hip.
"You the one I gotta thank for lettin' me out?"
Leon couldn't form words, far too aware of exactly how close the naked man was now.
"Tch. Forgot how Ar-damn prude y'all humans is," he scoffed. After dusting some loose sand off his shoulders, he raised his hand and snapped his fingers. Instantly, he became dressed head to toe in an extremely flattering pinstripe suit.
"Better, nani?"
"Umm... yeah. Thanks..."
"So, introductions are in order, yeah?"
As he said this, he nonchalantly conjured a cigar out of thin air and lit it with a small flame ignited from the tip of his finger.
"Name's Guzma. What 'bout you?"
"Oh, I'm... Leon. But, ma friends cry me Lee."
"Well Lee," he says, smoke billowing past abnormally sharp canines as he speaks with the cigar between his jaws, "I hate to run so soon, but I been asleep for a long-ass time and got some business t'take care of."
He took the cigar and tapped the end of it in his palm, allowing some still smoldering embers to pile up.
"But don't worry, I ain't boutta forget what you done. I'll be back to give ya a proper thank you, ya dig?"
Leon's brain was running a mile a minute trying to comprehend everything happening.
Finally, he managed to form one coherent thought.
"Wait! Before ye leave, can I ask ye one thing?"
"Go for it."
"What... exactly are ye?"
The man began chuckling in a deep, almost cacophonous voice. He squatted down so he could be eye level with the champion.
"What am I? Well..."
He grinned wily and purred, "I'm whatever you want me to be."
He brought his palm with the embers up to his lips and blew.
~~~
Leon woke up in his bed at his Wyndon flat.
Was it... all a dream?
As he went to wipe the sweat from his forehead, the act of closing his hand stung something fierce.
"Bloody hell..."
He has burns on his palm in the same patterns as that bloody statue!
So...it wasn't a dream?
His phone revealed that it was actually that same morning, hours before he ever went to Hammerlocke to meet Raihan and inevitably get himself hopelessly lost.
Did it never happen? Or is it yet to happen?
His brain hurts.
He gets up and dresses his wounded hand. He pinned up his hair and took a shower while awkwardly trying to keep his bandaged hand out of the water.
Once finished, he toweled off and as he slipped his robe over his shoulders, his phone buzzed.
It's the same text from Rai he received this morning:
Hey, bruv you wanna swing by for a match today? Loser buys lunch!
Leon sighs and types:
Sorry mate, feeling a bit under the weather. Rain check, k?
It's not a complete lie, he really does feel inexplicably exhausted. He definitely didn't feel like this the first time he went through this morning.
"Maybe... I've just worked too hard... burned maself whan cooking last night... aye... that's it..."
But, it felt so real!
Even now, every delectable curve and enticing angle of that man... creature... of Guzma's body is burned into his memory along with his sharp teeth and glowing eyes...
...and pierced penis...
Face on fire, Leon wrapped his robe tighter around himself and collapsed onto the couch.
He flipped on the TV to try and distract himself from the heat rising in his gut.
He eventually settled on a channel playing a Halloween movie marathon.
As time passed, his eyelids grew heavier and heavier and, eventually, he drifted off to sleep.
~~~
By the time he woke up, it was nearly 6 pm.
He yawned wide and blinked bleary eyed up at the ceiling, stretching his arms up over his head. His robe slid slightly down his shoulders as he relaxed his arms back down with a satisfied sigh.
"Damn, thought you'd nevah wake up."
"BLOODY-" Leon jolted, scrambling backward into the corner of the couch.
The man with golden-yellow horns and white hair sat on the opposite end of the couch, his feet up and a bowl of popcorn in his lap. He's wearing the same suit Leon remembers him summoning out of thin air, although he is now barefoot. Leon realizes that his feet and hands alike have sharp claws instead of nails.
"Who are ye?! H-how daed ye get in here?!"
The man tossed a piece of popcorn up into the air and caught it in his mouth.
"I already told ya, my name's Guzma," he answers casually, tossing and catching another piece, "I let myself in."
"Why are ye here?"
"I also told ya, I gotta give ya a proper thank you."
Leon gave him a skeptical look.
"How long have ye been here?"
"Couple hours. You were were out cold."
He rubbed the back of his head rather sheepishly.
"S'pose dat's my fault. I'm outta practice and I guess I took a bit more from ya than I intended earlier."
" 'A bit more' what?"
He popped another piece of popcorn in the air. This one was a bit off the mark, but he still managed to get it in his mouth by catching it on his tongue which is at least twice the length of a normal one.
"Life force."
Leon blinked a few times and then rubbed his brow wearily.
"Let me get this straight," he sighs, still scrunched up uncomfortably in the corner of the couch, "Ye burn ma hand. Put me tae sleep. Steal ma life force. Send me back in time??? Break into my house and expect me tae just-"
He didn't finish his thought because the man was suddenly looming over him.
Leon was scared for a brief moment, but then realized the other had a genuine look of concern on his face.
"I hurt you?" he murmured, eyes locked on Leon's bandaged hand. He looked up at him and said earnestly, "I'm so sorry. I just... I needed you to drop it. I didn't think it would..."
Suddenly, he bared his sharp teeth and his eyes glowed with silver flames. Meanwhile, his tattoos began to glow, much like the patterns did on the statue.
He grabbed his hair, which had turned into an inferno of white flames, and reared back, roaring, "Guzma! What is wrong with you?!"
"W-Whoa! It's ok! Isnae that bad," Leon panickingly tried to reassure him, adding to himself, Please dinnae burn doun ma flat.
The glowing receded and he calmed down a bit. He was out of breath and breathing rather heavily.
"Sorry. Lost my temper there. Guess some things nevah change."
After just a moment of silence, he says, "Just... will you let me fix it?" gesturing to his hand.
Leon is a bit unsure, but he takes some comfort in seeing that Guzma seems back to normal now. Not that there's anything 'normal' about any of this.
"Please?"
Hesitantly, Leon offered him his bandaged hand.
Guzma attentively began undoing the bandages.
"Look, I'll tell you what I am, I owe you that much," he began as he worked.
"My kind go by many names in your world. I s'pose you might call me a 'demon lord.' Where I'm from, I'm called the 'King of Destruction'. At least, that's how you'd say it in your tongue."
With the bandages removed, Guzma curled his lip up at the sight of the burns on Leon's palm. He held the hand in one of his and clenched his other fist above it.
When he loosened his fist, black, volcanic sand funneled out creating a small mound in Leon's palm.
"I'm a demon, not a monster. I ain't in the business of hurtin' you humans without reason. You undahstand?"
Guzma deftly spread the sand to cover Leon's entire palm. It felt strangely cool and soothing.
He brought the hand up to his lips and blew all of the sand off in one long exhale.
Leon pulled his hand back to himself and raised his eyebrows in astonishment.
His burns had vanished!
"Brilliant," he whispered, opening and closing his miraculously healed hand.
He looked to Guzma once more and cocked his head inquisitively.
"So, ye're a demon... but ye're no here tae harm onyone? Then, how dae ye explain taking ma life force?"
"Listen, I nevah take more than I need if I can help it. And a small amount don't hurt a healthy adult none- you regain it back with normal rest," Guzma explained. He grabbed his popcorn bowl back out of the air- it has just sort of been suspended there by an unseen force this whole time. He shoved a handful in his mouth and added, "An' I nevah take it fo' free. Da's why 'm here. Gotta pay m'debt."
Leon narrowed his eyes.
"Ok... but... how daed ye even get here? Why were ye imprisoned in the first pla-"
He couldn't continue the thought seeing as Guzma, quite literally, zipped his mouth shut.
"Kid, wouldja quit tryna create a cohesive plot? These people ain't got all day!"
Leon ripped the zipper off his face and replied "What?"
Guzma was somehow standing in the middle of the room now, the bowl still in his hand.
"So, what's it gonna be, sugar tits? What is it that you desire?"
Leon nonchalantly tugged his robe back over his shoulders, definitely not because he suddenly realized he was showing far more skin than was necessary.
"I dinnae... 'desire' onything, really..."
"Ah, c'mon! You humans can't resist the three Fs!"
"The... 'three Fs?' "
Guzma smiled and snapped his fingers. The contents of the bowl he held tranformed into stacks and stacks of paper money.
"Fortune?"
"I live very comfortably, actually," he began, gesturing around his flat. "Even bought ma mum and grandparents a house o' their own. Got a substantial savings for ma wee brother, as well."
He chuckled and added, "Dinnae rightly knaw what I'd do with more money."
"Alright then" -Guzma tossed the bowl over his shoulder and it and its contents disintegrated into white sand that blew on an invisible breeze and disappeared into the ether- "Perhaps some old fashioned fame is more your game?"
"I'm, uhh, kind of the most famous person in the region, if I'm being honest."
"You... Really?"
"Bloody hell is that suppose to mean?!"
Guzma ignored him and paced the room, tail thrashing back and forth as if it has a mind of its own.
"Well, that leaves us with the third F. Yeah... a big shot like you must be in the market for some hot, sweaty..."
He rolled his wrist as his sentence trailed off and then snapped his fingers.
"...intimacy."
The room was immediately filled with gentle light from dozens of lit candles and the sound of soft, salacious music.
"W-wait. What?"
Leon's eyes widened and his heart rate sped up significantly.
Guzma picked up Leon's phone, which has been sitting on the coffee table.
"Twenty six missed messages and one missed called from the same faka. Ya don't need a beating heart t'know someone's already got a choke hold on yours, pretty boy!"
To Leon's horror, as Guzma said that, he casually punched his fingers into the front of his own chest and pried it open, exposing the inside of his chest cavity which, yes, included a human-looking heart that remain entirely motionless.
He let go and his chest and suit sprung back together as if the horrific display never happened in the first place.
Guzma flashed his sharp teeth at Leon and continued, "I could bring him here right now. Use my powers as a bit of... coercion. Just to help put things in motion.
If that ain't yo' thing or you're just lookin' for a quick fix..."
Guzma snapped his fingers and instantaneously transformed into Leon's best mate and greatest rival, Raihan.
In the nude.
"I'd be more 'an happy t'play the role."
To Guzma's surprise, Leon's expression became something akin to disappointment.
"What's with the look?"
"Umm... well... it's an enticing deal, truly. I just..."
Leon rubbed self consciously at the back of his neck.
"I just feel like... ye knaw... if I'm going tae have sex with ye... I'd rather have it with ye."
Guzma narrowed his eyes (or, rather, narrowed Raihan's eyes).
Without a word he raised a hand and snapped his fingers, returning to his former self: tail, horns, wings and all.
"You wanna have sex with this form?" he asked skeptically, thrusting his clawed thumb at his own chest.
But, to Guzma's chagrin, that excited spark returned to the human's face and he nodded firmly.
"Aye."
Leon swallowed thickly, heart racing.
"Is that such a surprise? After all, ye're-"
Guzma was looming over him once more, a dangerous smirk on his face.
"What am I, Leon?" he growls darkly, pointed teeth on full display, silver flames burning in his eyes.
"Fucking hot as hell-"
The demon kissed him roughly, his hair alight with bright, white fire. Without even realizing it, Leon ran his fingers through the flames, feeling no pain, heat, or discomfort.
Guzma pushed his tongue into the other's mouth, exploring every bit of it before testing how far down the back of the throat he could reach.
It is much farther than Leon anticipated.
Leon felt a wee bit faint. It barely registered with him as Guzma gently dragged claws down the side of his face to his collarbone, where they dipped under his bath robe to knead the soft flesh of his, rather large, pec. It then definitely registered with him once Guzma gently grabbed and twisted his nipple between his callused forefinger and thumb.
They separated for a moment to allow Leon to gasp for air.
Meanwhile, Guzma reeled himself in a bit, his hair slowly returning to normal.
"Ya sure you can handle me? Ain't too late to change your mind," the demon taunted with a cheshired grin.
Leon grinned back, and declared, "I live fer a thrill, mate."
"In that case, don't say I didn't warn ya, Lee, 'cuz you in for one thriller night."
Guzma snapped his fingers, his clothes vanishing.
"And ain't no one gon' save you from the beast 'bout to strike."
Leon involuntarily salivated as his eyes traced every intricate tattoo and glittering piercing on the demon's body. He was abruptly grabbed by the hips and wrenched up so his thighs rested on Guzma's shoulders while his head and shoulders remained resting on the couch.
His robe had fallen completely open in the process, leaving him completely exposed and vulnerable to the devilishly handsome man grinning down at him.
Guzma's claws gripped tightly at Leon's hips, sending sparks of delightful pain through the latter's body.
Without any hesitation, h wrapped his inhumanly long tongue around Leon's shaft.
Leon groaned in pleasure.
Guzma retracted his tongue and chuckled.
"You this hard already? You really are a freak, huh?!" he observed.
"Ye sure dae like hearing yerself talk," the champion retorted.
"Oooh, snippy aren't we?"
He danced his claws up Leon's bare stomach and chest, folding him in on himself until Guzma could wrap his hand around that pretty little throat.
He held firm pressure there and leaned into Leon's face to growl, "I'm in charge here, mortal."
To his excitement, Leon smiled and simply contended, "We'll see about that."
Guzma curled his lip up in playful irritation, but ultimately released Leon's throat in favor of gripping his opulent chest.
He snaked his other hand up to do the same.
Ignoring the leaking cock standing at attention, directly in front of his face, Guzma groped the soft muscle of Leon's tits. He pressed them together and began fucking his tongue up into the cleft he created.
Leon whined involuntarily at the feeling.
Eventually, Guzma began lightly flicking one of his nipples with the claw of his thumb, pulling little gasps out of his prey in the process.
Leon started minutely rolling his hips, desperate to get some sort of friction on his neglected member.
A low rumble came from the demon's throat as he leaned back up, sitting on his knees with Leon's thighs still on his shoulders.
He unrolled his tongue, seemingly about to finally give Leon what he wants.
However, he grips tightly on his thighs and instead pushes his tongue firmly again Leon's taint, massaging the little bundle of nerves hidden within.
"A-ah! That's- o-oh!"
Guzma slipped his tongue lower, wriggling between his ass cheeks to lick greedily at his entrance.
Leon tangled a hand in his own hair as he tried to reconcile what he was feeling. His other hand clutched desperately at the top of the couch.
"F-fuck, I- oh Arceus, bloody- fu-uck!"
Guzma slipped his tongue inside and writhed it all around, just to hear more very pretty sounds out of this very pretty boy.
As he began fucking him more earnestly, Leon's moans became more and more unabashed.
"I'm going tae- Guzma I'm-"
His head tipped back, pressing further into the seat of the couch as his entire body convulsed. He erupted cum, hitting Guzma in the forehead and soiling his hair.
Leon breathed heavily as the aftershocks wore off and his soul settled back down into his body.
Meanwhile, Guzma chuckled darkly from where he gazed at Leon between his thighs. His tongue traveled up to lick the cum away from where it was starting to drip down his eyebrow.
"What you relaxin' for, pretty boy? I ain't done witchu."
He snapped his fingers and Leon yelped as he felt his some kind of force surge through his body.
Almost instantly, he felt his balls swell and his flagging penis stood up proudly once more. He feels just as pent up and horny as when they began this whole thing.
He yelped again as he was whisked up into the air.
Guzma held him firmly under each thigh, but Leon still instinctively wrapped his arms around the back of his neck for stability.
Face to face with the snarky demon, Leon could really appreciate the rosie blush dusting his pale cheeks. It was an intriging contrast to the predatory look in his eyes, which sent chills down his spine.
Staring into Leon's golden eyes, lips slightly parted, Guzma slowly lowered him onto his heavily decorated cock.
They both sighed as he sheathed himself effortlessly.
"223 years is too damn long," the demon sighed in a deep, relieved voice.
His expression showed embarrassment for a split second before hardening.
He smirked and crooned, "Consider yaself lucky, kid. I'm a hot commodity, ya know."
Leon gazed back at him through strands of unruly, purple hair and murmured, "Bite me, bitch."
Guzma happily complied.
The champion shouted in painful pleasure as the other sunk sharp teeth into his shoulder while continuing to fuck into him without restraint.
Leon clawed at the back of Guzma's neck and tangled fingers into his hair trying to find purchase, moaning sweet praises while also cursing the demon and his stupidly handsome face.
Guzma released his teeth and was beginning to breath rather heavily; his pace did not slow even a little bit.
The champion is overwhelmed by the feeling of his thighs slamming down against the swell of Guzma's stomach combined with the continual assault of the metal bars in the cock gliding against his prostate.
His hands slip from behind the demon's neck and he unintentionally grabs onto his horns to steady himself.
Guzma's eyes, hair, and ink begin to glow once more. Finally, his hair "ignites" into white flames and he throws his head back and roars, cumming an unholy volume into the human.
Leon cums with a shout as well, releasing himself against his own chest and stomach.
The champion finds himself unceremoniously dropped onto the couch with a loud thump.
They stayed where they were for a moment, silently catching their breath.
Snap!
Suddenly, Leon feels that same surge of virility and energy he felt before... times ten.
Wordlessly, Guzma approached and straddled him on the couch. Hair and eyes alight with fire, tattoos glowing like molten rock, fangs dripping with saliva... he looks like a man possessed.
Can a demon even be possessed?
Is that a thing?
"Ohhhhhhh... fuck... Guzma..."
The man had wantonly sunk himself down around Leon's cock. He rolled his hips teasingly just a couple times before riding the champion with reckless abandon.
Leon moaned and whined, the euphoria overtaking ever rational part of his brain as the demon laughed maniacally in a cacophonous voice.
Sounds of skin slapping skin and the rhythmic thumping of the couch into the wall filled the champion's Wyndon flat.
Said champion stared transfixed as the man impaled himself over and over, tail lashing back and forth behind him while his cock bobbed up and down, slapping against his soft, bulging stomach.
Abruptly, the demon's whole body stiffened. His wings extended and shuddered, sending many fluffy black feathers fluttering to the ground. He tipped his head back and roared while grinding himself against the cock entirely sheathed within him. More cum erupted from his untouched member, painting abstract designs on Leon's umber chest.
The demon dropped forward with his hands flat on the couch as he breathed heavily, coming down from his very good high.
Leon rolled out from underneath him and, to his surprise, Guzma let him.
Well, he supposes even demons have some matter of fatigue they undergo.
Finally given the opportunity, Leon shrugged off his robe entirely; it slumped down into a plushy heap on the ground.
Meanwhile, the demon continued to pant, dropping his forehead against his folded arms.
"Wh- hey!" the demon snarled when Leon firmly grabbed his hips from behind and planted a heavy slap on his ass.
"Shut up," Leon baited, reveling in the low growl he got in response.
He pressed himself into the demon, one hand holding the end of his tail so it can't whip around in his face. He presses the palm of the other hand firmly against his tail bone.
Once fully inside, he pauses and takes a moment to ground himself.
He slides the hand on Guzma's lower back so the webbing between his thumb and forefinger press up against where the tail connects to his spine.
Wrapping his thumb and finger around the base, he strokes it experimentally.
A continuous, low rumbling sound came from the man underneath him.
Leon chuckled and asked, "Are ye actually purring?"
The noise stopped abruptly followed by an indignant, "I DON'T FUCKING PURR!"
Now is as good a time as any for Leon to lose himself and relentlessly pound the cocky demon into his couch. He had one foot up on said couch to give himself more leverage and fucked every little growl, mewl, and hiss he could get out of the other.
At one point, Leon reaches down to grasp one of Guzma's horns from behind, forcing him curve his back up as much as his corporeal form would permit and allowing Leon to gaze upon his depraved expression as he continued pounding his ass and pulling roughly on his tail.
Leon was beginning to reach his limit, but his competitive nature overcomes his earthly desires. He holds out long enough and sees Guzma's eyes roll into the back of his head. His wings stiffen up and try to extend, almost forcing Leon backward if he hadn't quickly grabbed both and forced them to fold back down onto themselves and Guzma's body.
The demon roared something in a foreign tongue and Leon could feel involuntarily muscle contractions around his cock coincide with the tremors in his wings.
Leon climaxes, letting himself unload every drop of cum into the pathetic, squirming creature beneath him.
With an obscene sound, he unsheathed his spent cock.
He plopped down on the couch and breathed deeply to ride out his high.
Eventually, Guzma sat up and rested next to him on the couch, his arms stretched out along the very top of it as he heaved a big sigh.
"Gotta say, not bad kid," the demon chided. "Ya know... for a mortal-"
"I won," Leon interrupted.
"Um... what?"
"I won. Ye lost. Tough break, kid."
Guzma blinked a few times and then his face burned bright red with genuine embarrassment.
"W-wait! It ain't no competition! It was by my will and my power that-"
"And it wis by my penis ye were a mewling mess face down in the couch just now."
Guzma stared at him, mouth agape for a moment.
"Shut the fuck up!"
In a flash, Guzma was on his feet and looming over Leon, wings flared and teeth bared in a feeble attempt to intimidate his, apparently hallowdedly skillful lover.
"I ain't done yet! I want a rematch!"
Leon leaned back smugly into the couch and propped his ankle up onto his knee.
Guzma hadn't realized it until now, but the champion was inexplicably erect once more.
"Dinnae say I dinnae warn ye, needle dick. Ye're the one in fer a thiller night," he chuckled darkly.
" 'Cause I'm gaunnae thrill ye more than ony ghould e'er dare try."
~~~
The next morning, a very exhausted Leon lays with his arm and leg around the demon in his bed.
Even though his stamina was thanks to the demon's power, his human body wasn't meant to go that many times... for that many hours... and in that many positions.
Guzma, being a creature that doesn't sleep, is simply lounging with his hands behind his head and a cigar between his teeth, enjoying the warm-blooded body clinging to him.
He gingerly took the cigar from his mouth and let all of the smoke billow up and out into air.
"I fuckin' needed that," he mused to himself.
His serenity was short lived, as a familiar, obnoxious voice reverberated throughout his head, "My lord! My lord! We've finally found you!"
Guzma sighed while simultaneously emitting a low grow from his throat.
"Show yaselves, numbskulls," he demanded.
Two imps, about six inches tall each, poofed into existence. They wore long brown tunics with hoods and duskull masks that cover just the lower half of their faces. They both had zubat-like wings and salandit-like tails.
"The hell are you imps wearing? And quit talkin' like a couple a weirdos!"
The two imps poofed again, this time reappearing wearing tank tops, basketball shorts, and bandanas around their faces.
"Sorry Boss, Bara thought it'd be funny."
"Yo, it was your idea, Az!"
"None of that matters. Boss! You're free! Ya told Plums yesterday you'd meet us on the islands! Why ain't ya gone back t'Alola yet?"
"Bro, ya can't just ask him shit lidat outright! He obviously had some business t'take care of," the imp implied, heavily gesturing to the sleeping human wrapped around their demon lord.
"Oh hoho! Shit! Hell yeah, brother! Hey! Hey, human! Boss is good, ain't he?"
Leon shifted, his expression a little taut, but he didn't wake up.
"Bro, you know humans can't hear us lidat."
"Yeah, but dat don't mean I can't have a lil-"
In one motion, Guzma grasped both imps out the air, covering their mouths and most of their bodies, thus forcing them to shut. The fuck. Up.
"I used up a lot of power-"
-showing off like an idiot-
"And I ain't got 'nough to make it back right now."
More smoke billowed past his fangs as he growled his explanation.
"Lanakila's waited two centuries for her King of Desctruction to return. It ain't gonna hurt nobody if she waits one more day, capiche?"
They both nodded as much as they could with the way Guzma was gripping them.
"Good. Now, go annoy somebody who actually deserves it!"
He clenches his fist, crushing the two imps until they were nothing but volcanic ash in his palm.
He blew at the ashes.
They scattered into the air and then disappeared into the ether.
~~~
Oleana walked into the chairman's office, some files in her hands.
"Sir, there are some worker's comp claims from the southern mines that require... uh... you ok?"
The chairman was sitting at his desk with his head in his hands. When he looked up at his secretary, his eyes seemed tired and his overall expression was extremely haggard.
"Oh. Miss Oleana, so sorry you have to see me in such a state. It's been so bizarre... I just can't seem to get my thoughts in order. It feels as though something has been pestering me and distracting me all day!"
The man winced and then brushed his shoulder off, although there didn't appear to be anything there that needed brushing off.
"I have to say, it's quite annoying."