Another drabble I wrote on my sideblog that I decided to transfer here. Despite it's word count being on the smaller size, somehow this is the most popular fic I have on that account. Haha. I still don't understand why (this was written after getting excited from talking about Taito with a friend) but hey, I'm glad that people liked it. And I hope that people here do as well!

With that in mind. Enjoy~

Taichi's hair was a mystery.

Currently the two boys were on one of their movie 'dates' as Taichi liked to call them. At the end of every week Taichi would welcome himself into Yamato's home, holding a movie in one hand and a bag of quick snacks in the other. The rest of the night was sprawled out as they'd watch the movie, eat the snacks, eventually Taichi would nag Yamato into making more food, and depending on their mood Taichi would stay over.

Taichi was sprawled out of the modest sofa, his head practically overlapping Yamato's thigh as his feet dangled over the edge of the couch. The movie this time around wasn't exactly a great one, Taichi himself kept dozing on and off throughout the dialogue of the film, and Yamato has paying more attention to the wispy strands that Taichi called hair.

Yamato looked like he was brooding but he was actually in deep thought. After all, he took care of his hair! From using good shampoo to an expensive blow dryer, Yamato spent a good chunk of his morning routine making sure his hair looked good and retained it's health.

But Taichi? Taichi never had anything to say about his hair. No complaints, no effort, no nothing. With a head full of that unruly hair, one would think that maintaining it would take hours. But no. Taichi just got out of bed, took a ten minute shower, ran a towel through his wet hair and he was ready to face the day.

It just wasn't fair.

Yamato's critical eyes kept ostracizing the fluff of hair that was currently on top of him. Taichi's face was serene and asleep, leaving Yamato to glare angrily at the brown head of hair without as much as a curious glance.

The worst part of all of this, was that Taichi's hair looked healthy. No matter which angle Yamato turned his head in, the pillow of hair never gave a greasy shine. The thick strands should have looked wiry and brittle, but instead reminded Yamato of soft strands in an expensive thread count.

An idea struck Yamato and his lips pulled into a thin line as his pupils widened. Just how did Taichi's hair feel? He knew how his own hair felt. But what about Taichi's? It looked like it would be like petting a large dog, bristles of furry undercoats that would snag onto his fingers in hidden tangles. But what if it wasn't?

Curiosity killed the cat.

Good thing Yamato's power animal was a wolf instead.

The movie's music kept the living room from getting too silent as Yamato's nervousness caused him to hold his breath. Acting as if any quaint movement would cause Taichi to snap awake, Yamato inched his hand slow as a mouse. His eyes narrowing as he tried not to feel too excited from the tiny…experiment.

His fingertips brushed across the ends of Taichi's hair. Pulling back in reflex he checked to see if Taichi aroused consciousness. He barely touched Taichi's hair, so he didn't get a good notion on how it felt. Thankfully Taichi was a heavy sleeper and his peaceful face of sleep didn't even flinch.

Yamato took a deep breath to steady his hand.

With a shred of confidence, Yamato's was bolder this time around. His eye blinks were short as he brushed through Taichi's hair with a slow swipe of his hand.

"Huh," Yamato's face instantly relaxed as he spoke his inner thoughts out loud, "It's soft."

The strands of Taichi's hair petted Yamato's hand rather than the other way around. It was nothing like Yamato expected and it was hard for him to pinpoint just what this reminded him off. The texture was smooth, and Yamato was able to run his fingers from the base of Taichi's skull out toward his tapered ends without a single tug. The thickness of the mass just felt so…plush. The gradient from the spikes toward the center was so gradual that the sensation it was addicting.

Yamato could feel a blush coming along as he scratched the hair along Taichi's brow. He entangled his fingers in Taichi's hair, and pulled them out in a gesture that was smooth as satin.

Is that what it felt like playing with nice hair? No wonder people kept trying to touch his blond locks.

"Ngh," Taichi groaned as he wrinkled his nose. Yamato froze, he knew he should let go of Taichi's hair and sit on the couch like a normal person and pretend he didn't do anything—but he didn't want to pull away. Taichi continued making quiet murmurs as he rolled over to his side, his head moving more on Yamato's lap (and consequently Yamato's tangled hand) as he curled up into a more comfortable position on the sofa.

Yamato drew a quick breath, still happy that he could continue. With desire acting as his major motivator, he continued petting Taichi's hair with a light smile on his face.

"Hmm," Taichi hummed quietly, his mouth also breaking into a smile as he curled more into Yamato's lap. Yamato's faint blush didn't falter as he continued stroking through Taichi's hair and focused his attention to the corner of Taichi's lips. He archived when he smiled, hummed, and near purred as he brushed his blunt fingers throughout Taichi's scalp.

Inwardly he couldn't help but notice how cute Taichi was like this. His calm demeanor was preferable compared to his loud nitpicking. But right now, Taichi was like a little kitten curled up and mewling softly as he was scratched under his chin.

Yamato snickered, Taichi the cat. That was amusing.

Eventually the satisfaction of running his hands through Taichi's hair just so natural Yamato relaxed into the couch and his attention whirled back to the movie that was still playing. His hands still brushed and wrapped the ends of Taichi's hair. Taichi would hum from the back of his throat as he further pushed along Yamato's hand.

The only time Yamato stopped is when the movie was over. Not even thinking twice about it, he stopped playing with Taichi's hair and rolled forward to grab the remote.

Taichi groaned out of disdain this time around, his eyes snapped opened as his face fell into a heavy pout, "Yama," Taichi shot a disapproving glance at Yamato. Sleep was still on his brain but that didn't stop him from acting, "Yamaaa."

"What?" Yamato stopped what he was doing to see Taichi moaning for attention and rolling back and forth in his lap.

"Why'd you stop?" Taichi huffed, his pout no more than childish as he pleaded with big eyes.

"…Oh," Yamato reflexively swallowed air. He forgot that he was playing with Taichi's hair for the past hour, and the sudden realization of it made him embarrassed and want to sink into the ground, "I, uh,"

"Yaaaamaaa!"

"Alright alright."

Yamato started massaging Taichi's scalp by playing through his hair. His face flushed a small tint of red as he kept his eyes toward his actions and refused to meet Taichi in eye contact. Taichi only closed his eyes in bliss, purring as he snuggled back down to pleasure. Yamato only scoffed in response, using his free hand to turn switch inputs back to television as he went back to what was going to be commonplace among the two of them.