Yamato leaned against the washing machine, a slightly annoyed eye aimed at the linen closet his partner had locked himself in.
"You do realize how ridiculous this is?" he asked.
"Yes, I do. Why do you think I'm hiding?" Gabumon retorted.
"Well, don't you get chocolate syrup on the towels! Dad would kill you."
Gabumon snorted. It was Yamato's fault in the first place for toppling the bottle all over him. Not that Gabumon minded that much, mind you. After all, he did get to lick off most of the mess. Until it came to his fur. Yamato insisted it had to go through the washer, and there would be no weaseling out of it, which had lead tem to this stalemate.
"You do realize you're going to have to come out to eat eventually?" the boy pressed on.
To hell with it! Gabumon thought to himself.
"Turn your back!" came the digimon's voice.
"Aw, come on, Gabu!" Yamato protested humorously.
"Turn.your.back," the digimon almost growled.
Yamato obeyed wordlessly. In his back, he heard the door opening, then the pelt was thrown on the floor, furry side up.
"See? It wasn't that hard," the boy commented as the door slammed in his back. "I really don't see why you're that... bashful about it."
"I don't either," Gabumon answered. "I mean, I'm not really shy about it around others... Only around you."
Yamato paused while putting detergent.
"Only... You mean you care what I think about you sans fur? Awww... That's cu-" Yamato stopped when he realized what that implied.
Gabumon's face was burning. The situation had gone from bad to worse. Then the closet door opened. He tried to shield himself before he realized his partner was only clad in his briefs himself, and far, far redder than him. Yamato managed a smile.
"Now we can be embarassed together."