Check In (Pokemon SM, Guzma)

[PuppetMaster64]

I intended to write something Christmas-y with ya boy but it turned out not holiday related at all, so I'm just gonna go ahead and upload

Triggers: Mild swearing

Spoilers:

Spoiler

Brief mention of island guardian deity pokemon, description of Po Town and Team Skull base.

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There was a cold going around the Tema Skull mansion. 

It made sense, objectively. A constantly rainy town and close living quarters, paired with the coming of winter, was just an open invitation for illness. As an inhabitant of the island, Guzma had long since learned the lack of winter chill didn’t save anyone from cold and flu season. 

Not even the self-proclaimed strongest trainer on the island, apparently. 

Guzma snuffled and rubbed at his nose as he left his room, making his way through the dingy hallway and out the busted window. He had woken up congested and hot, with a nagging tickle in his nose that only resulted in spiking his temper; but Tapu Bulu be damned, he wasn’t about to let something as weak as a cold get to him. Half his grunts were down and out for the count, and if he and Plumeria didn’t check on them they’d never get better. They were good grunts, and he loved them like brothers and sisters, but they were numbskulls all the same. 

Through the balcony he was able to get to the other side of the mansion, the grunts’ living space separated from Plumeria’s and his own. He chose a room at random, banging on the old door twice before letting himself in. Two grunts were on one bed, one sitting while the other was tucked snugly under the covers. 

“Yo!” He greeted them, coming further into the room. “How’s my boy holding up, huh?” He punctuated the question with a sniffle, smirking as their faces lit up in his presence. 

“Uh! B-Boss!” The grunt sitting down jumped to his feet, assuming the standard pose. “Yeah! He’s-- He’s doin’ real good! Plumeria made some slowpoke tail soup, and he’s holdin’ up a lot better now, yo!” He said, gesturing meaninglessly with his hands. The sick grunt in question sunk under the covers more, as if he were embarrassed by the attention.

“Hey, that’s tight, dude.” Guzma replied, trying not to let the soreness of his throat come out in his voice. He rubbed the side of his nose furiously again, wet squelches echoing every motion. “You givin’ him any medicine? I know th’ stuff’s gross, but y’all ain’t gonna get better without it.” 

“....Uh, yeah.” The grunt hesitated, staring at his boss. “We’ve all been using the same bottle of stuff you ‘n Plumeria brought home and… You ok, G?”

Guzma took the hand away from his face suddenly, brows furrowed in confusion. “Whuh-- Yeah? Why?”

“Your nose is gettin’ super red, yo. And you look tired.” The second grunt nodded from the bed, adding a hoarse, “Word.” 

“ ‘Course I’m fine! What kinda question’s that?!” He snapped reflexively, the grunts going wide-eyed. Guzma could feel heat pooling to his face, definitely not helping his appearance. His black eyes darted to the worn floor, trying to think of an excuse. “Yeah, just-- My body’s just bein’ Trubbish right now. Gotta beat it back into shape sometimes, you get me?”

As the two grunts exploded into agreement, his breath hitched, the tickle in his nose getting unbearable. He couldn’t risk them catching on that he was sick though-- the mansion would quickly go to shit if word spread. He nodded at his underlings through bleary eyes and quickly slipped out the door, shutting it loudly behind him. 

In the hall he noticed a few grunts lingering outside of the rooms, and internally cursed the punks for being so good at loitering. Something he taught them, of course. He kept his head down and hands in his pockets as he moved toward his room, nose running and burning all at once. He walked to the balcony and across the roof, through the broken window and down the old dingy hallway... 

He slammed the door to his room as quickly as he entered it and leaned against it, preparing for the worst. He swallowed hard, watery eyes threatening to spill as he hitched and hitched--

“Ehhg’shoo! Atshhoo! Uh’Isshuh! Ha-- HATSHHOO!!”

Tears were running down his face now. He tried to sniffle, and was met once again with unrelenting congestion, still managing to piss him off.

“Fuck!” He screamed, punching the door with the back his fist. He looked up to the ceiling, snuffling pitifully. There were still other grunts to check on… 

 

[murphy dee]

Hell yes!!!!  This was so cute!  If there ends up being more of this that'd be... so great.  :3c

[jano]

Oooo you can't imagine how excited I got when I saw Sun/Moon fanfic here  It's really good so far! Poor Guzma, I hope someone takes care of him...

[Secret Sneezer]

Oh I absolutely love this so far! Good job!