Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon.

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A/N: It's a Tuesday. They always seem to drag on forever for me, so I'm trying to entertain myself by writing a pointless, fluffy Taito.

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Taichi, 23-year-old business intern, was staring out of his apartment's window—well, more like his and his boyfriend's shared apartment's window. Taichi and Yamato had moved into the rented apartment on the outskirts of Kyoto five years ago, when they had started university. Taichi had finished his studies a year ago, and had been an 'intern' at his company since then. His boss wanted to keep Taichi as a permanent worker, but couldn't justify a proper opening on his team just yet. Thus, Taichi was stuck with the intern title—not that he really minded; the hours were more lenient.

Yamato, on the other hand, was still studying psychology and wouldn't be done for years. He was also working part-time at a local high school as a counsellor. He was usually given the kids that had trouble at home; he was currently writing a thesis on the topic.

Taichi stretched his arms above his head, yawning. It was a Saturday morning, but, despite their best efforts, the two males had not been able to sleep until noon. They were both used to getting up early during the week, so lying-in didn't seem like an option to their internal clocks. Taichi could have lazed in bed, but Yamato tended to get agitated when he wasn't doing something, so he had gotten up and gone to take a shower. Well, Taichi hadn't felt like lying in bed alone, so he had gotten up and drawn the curtains.

After almost a week of nonstop rain, the sun had finally come out and was basking the world in a warm orange glow. Taichi observed the sun's rays extending further across the wet streets and rooftops. The rays caused the drops of water to glitter joyously, much like Taichi's brown eyes as they took in the sight.

"But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?" Came Yamato's deep voice from the door of the bedroom. His long, lean legs carried him over to Taichi's side in a second. "It is the sun. And it's about fucking time."

Taichi burst out laughing. "Did you just end a Shakespeare quote in a swear?"

"Yes." Yamato leaned into his boyfriend, gazing outside. "It's been 28 days since I've seen the sun shine."

Taichi snorted, rolling his eyes. "That's a bit of an exaggeration, don't you think?"

Yamato was silent for a while, both males watching the sun climb higher into the sky. "It's from a song."

"Ah."

Taichi wrapped his arms around Yamato's towelled waist, leaning his head on the blond one on his shoulder.

"Nah, Yamato… Can you make me pancakes?"

"Sure."

"Now?"

"Sure."

"Why aren't you moving, then?"

"Why aren't you letting go of me?"

There was silence as the sun's rays entered the men's bedroom.

Taichi tightened his grip and Yamato released a gentle breath, sinking further into the brunet.

"Maybe I don't need the pancakes right now."

"We could just have brunch later on."

"That sounds good to me."

Yamato smiled, and moved so that he and Taichi were standing face-to-face, though the blond buried his face into Taichi's shoulder. Pale, still-damp arms wrapped around Taichi's bare torso. The brunet's arms were still around the other's waist, squeezing tightly.

"Thank you, Taichi."

If possible, the tanned arms tightened. "What's wrong?"

Yamato pulled back slightly, smiling at his boyfriend. "Nothing. Can't I just thank you for being here?"

Taichi tilted his head, searching the bright blue eyes for any hint of sadness. He found none, so he just smiled back pecking the blond on the lips. "Then I should thank you back."

"You don't have to." Yamato said with a small shake of his head.

"But I want to. So, thank you, and I love you."

The sun crept further into the room, lighting up the few clothes strewn messily on the floor, as if trying to distract the two men from gazing at each other. It seemed to work, too: Yamato's eyes landed on the clothing, face twitching in annoyance.

Noting the look, Taichi laughed lightly and pulled away. He stretched again, watching as Yamato moved towards the clothes. An idea came to Taichi and a smirk spread across his face.

"I'll be borrowing this." Taichi said whilst yanking the towel from around the blond's waist.

With an undignified yelp, Yamato jumped up, glaring. "Taichi!" His anger was quickly replaced by embarrassment, as he tried to cover himself with a stray t-shirt.

Taichi just laughed, swinging the towel over his shoulder and leaving the room.

"Jackass." Yamato mumbled, glaring at the empty doorway, face tomato-red. He quickly made his way to their wardrobe, pulling fresh boxers from his drawer. There was no one in the room, and it wasn't like Taichi hadn't seen him before, but somehow it seemed crucial that Yamato get dressed as fast as possible.

In a poor attempt at revenge, Yamato picked out Taichi's favourite hoodie and pulled it on. It was blue and quite large for either man, but it was comfortable.

Disregarding trousers, Yamato picked up the stray clothes and dropped them on the floor in front of the bathroom. Both Taichi and their washing machine were in there. He then made his way into the kitchen, getting bowls and ingredients out.

Yamato heard the bathroom door opening, and could hear Taichi gathering the clothes and shoving them into the machine. The brunet wasn't trusted with the detergent or settings, but it made Yamato smile when Taichi put the clothes in or hung them up after the programme had finished. It was the little things like these that made Yamato realise just how intertwined the two had become in each other's daily lives.

"What are you smiling about?" Taichi asked, hugging Yamato from behind and shoving his hands into the hoodie's pocket.

"Nothing, really."

"But something all the same."

"Maybe." Yamato hedged, whisking the pancake batter. "Could you please set the table? Get out whatever you want with these."

"Fine, I'll drop the subject."

Yamato smirked, and Taichi pulled away with a quick peck on the other's cheek.

"Thank you."

"For setting the table or for being here?" Taichi threw over his shoulder with a grin.

"Both, anything. Does it matter?" Yamato batted back.

Taichi laughed—Yamato loved that sound—and pulled out the plates. "It would be nice to know what made you happy so that I can maybe bring it up more often, or do it to make you happier."

Yamato paused his whisking and smiled at the batter.

The clinking of plates filled the kitchen before Taichi spoke again: "But I guess, ultimately, it doesn't really matter, if you don't want to share."

This time Yamato's hands wrapped around Taichi's waist and a small kiss was pressed into the brunet's neck, between his t-shirt collar and his hair.

"I was just thinking of how well we've managed to make this thing work."

"What thing?" Taichi's voice held a hint of amusement.

"Us living together."

Taichi pursed his lips, thinking that over. "I suppose we have managed to integrate our lives quite well. I mean, it's not like it was always easy or anything, but I'd say things are pretty damn good now."

Yamato hummed his agreement, moving back to the stove and turning on a hob. Behind him, Taichi was laying various condiments on the table.

Yes, Yamato thought, as he flipped the first pancake, things were pretty damn good as they were.

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