Author’s Note: Set after Digimon Adventure 02 and prior to Digimon Adventure tri. Enjoy the story and R&R.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to or of the Digimon series.
Pairing: Established Daisuke x Takeru.
“Unforgivable.” It’s a word Takaishi Takeru uses so frequently, it might as well be his catchphrase. And Motomiya Daisuke is on the receiving end of a particularly loud earful.
Motomiya Daisuke rolled over on the couch to rude noises coming from behind the wall, every cell in his body refusing to budge.
He didn’t remember requesting a 7 a.m. Saturday wake-up call.
“Unforgivable! Daisuke-kun, you left the toilet seat up! And where’s my hat? Don’t tell me you mixed it in with the darks in the laundry again! Are you listening? It’s unforgivable!”
Strenuously, last night’s drama trickled back into focus, one hazy brainbuster at a time. Daisuke had finished helping Takaishi Takeru move in his new furniture after an unfortunate mid-May noon when Patamon, loopy on Miyako’s home hay fever remedies, took out most of his human’s room with stray Air Shots.
After all that hard work, Daisuke was frisky and unabashedly psyched to christen the sheets. Disappointingly, Takeru saw differently, and punched him square in the jaw like he was some kind of garden variety stalker.
“Unforgivable!” Takeru yelled, just like he was now.
The athlete smooshed a cushion over his ears, trying to muffle his hearing. The bruise left by Takeru’s fist still ached, and Daisuke suddenly missed his stupid sister’s open-palm slaps. They hurt much less.
How did Iori put up with being Takeru’s Jogress partner?
For that matter, how did Daisuke put up with being Takeru’s boyfriend?
“Daisuke-kun, get out of bed!” the blond menaced above him. “Or I’ll never forgive you!”
In a knee-jerk reaction, Daisuke flew forward, almost colliding their foreheads. "You say that so often, it's lost all meaning!"
It took a while before Daisuke registered the smirk on Takeru’s face.
“Finally! He stirs!” The taller was in his lap, trapping Daisuke’s waist on his legs.
“Stop! We’ll wake your mom!”
“Oh, so now you care about witnesses? That’s so unforgivable, I’m gonna have to teach you a lesson!” Takeru bit at his neck.
Enter Natsuko, staring down on them, a coffee mug in hand. Daisuke shot pleading looks her way.
“I wasn’t even here…” She sipped the morning brew, wandering off to the kitchen.
“I am not forgiving you for this!” Daisuke growled, but toothlessly.
“Sure you won’t,” Takeru laughed, hand sneaking underneath Daisuke’s pajama top and finding his sternum.
And Takeru was right.