Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon.

TaiYama week 2018

Day 1: Invitation (idea from a writing prompt)

Warnings: I use the word 'dick' once (twice if you count this warning about it)

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Yamato frowned as he heard a knock on his apartment's door. He pulled off his apron, which he had just prior finished putting on and walked to answer the door.

A man, about Yamato's age, with thick, messy brown hair stood in the hallway, grinning broadly.

"Hi," the man said brightly.

Yamato eyed the man wearily; he had never seen the brunet before.

The man continued grinning at Yamato.

"Did you need something?" Yamato finally asked.

"Dinner, please."

Yamato's eyebrows shot to his hairline.

"…I beg your pardon?"

"Dinner." The man's grin somehow widened even more. "Please." He moved forward, as if to enter Yamato's apartment.

"Wow, wait," Yamato lifted a hand to stop the man. "I don't even know who you are…" He paused. "And I will be extremely weirded out if you know who I am, for that matter."

The brunet cocked his head to the side, still smiling, though not as widely. "You're my downstairs neighbour! I just moved in last week, into the apartment right above yours. Your food smells great and I'm pathetic at cooking—all my creations taste either too bland or too flavourful."

Yamato blinked a few times, staring at the other man. Then he retreated into his apartment and shut the door calmly.

Yamato walked into the kitchen, away from the sound of knuckles against the wood of the door.

"My name's Taichi, by the way!" The man called through the door. "Yagami Taichi!"

Yamato pulled on his apron again and turned on the small radio sitting on his kitchen counter. He would just go about his evening as usual, ignoring the dick at his door. He would grow tired of knocking soon, anyway.

An hour and a half later, Yamato found himself exactly one floor up from his own apartment.

Yagami had indeed gotten tired of knocking at some point, though Yamato had been so absorbed in cooking and singing along to the radio that he hadn't even noticed when that point had been.

Yamato looked down at the container in his hands. He heaved a huge sigh before knocking on the door in front of him.

Nothing.

Yamato knocked again.

Still there was no answer.

Yamato frowned at the door. And knocked again.

As there was still no answer after the third time knocking, Yamato decided that it was pointless to stand in the hallway, let alone in front of an apartment whose resident he didn't even know.

Deciding that the food in the container would be better off in his own fridge, Yamato turned and started back towards the stairs.

A second later, he heard a door open and a: "Wait!"

With a roll of his eyes, Yamato turned.

The two males stared at each other, one in exasperation, the other in confusion.

"Um," Yagami started, "did you need something?"

Looking like it was a huge inconvenience, but also an unavoidable obligation, Yamato trudged over to Yagami's apartment door.

"Here." Yamato shoved the container into Yagami's hands, not looking him in the eyes. "I accidentally made too much and I don't like re-heating food." Yamato frowned at the container. "You might have to re-heat it since you took so long to answer the door."

"Heh." Yagami scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah, sorry, bathroom."

"Whatever," Yamato mumbled, turning back to the stairs.

"I'll bring the container back tomorrow, okay?"

"Whatever," Yamato repeated, though a bit louder, before taking the first step down towards his own apartment.