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Yamato knew his demeanour was, apparently, like a cat. Takeru had described him once as “prickly, like a cat,” during a night out. However, Yamato had to disagree with that sentiment, and not only because being called a cat was, perhaps, hurting his pride.
Yamato could describe cat traits to be: lazy, laying in the sun and practically bathing in it; stretchy, (last time he saw Tailmon stretch, he was absolutely appalled by the fact she practically became a stick and doubled in length); curious, and putting their noses in everything ; and finally, somehow tip toeing the line between obnoxious and adorable.
And the blond wouldn't say he truly embodied any of these traits. Sure, he was a little hissy at times, as much as he loathed to admit it, but he was practically the opposite of the rest of these traits he defined. Yamato disliked clutter, and living with Taichi, he was never left without dishes or clothes to wash. Not that he minded though, it really wasn't much to do, and he enjoyed having something to do instead of rotting away on the couch like their Digimon these days.
Yamato wasn't stretchy. In fact, he was quite stiff. Gosh, he couldn't remember the last time he went on a proper work out, too absorbed by school and work.
Yamato was curious, yes, but he doesn't stick his nose in everything, preferring to instead keep his curiosity on the down low, before finally cracking and asking someone for the awnsers privately.
And finally, Yamato didn't tip toe the line of obnoxious and adorable. He couldn't even see himself doing the delicate balance of being annoyingly endearing. That trait, and in fact, all of the other traits he listed, were more suitable to his lover, Taichi.
Taichi, who while not a slob, was definitely lazy at times. Joining their Digimon, who have become completely absorbed by modern television, Taichi lazed the day away on weekends, bathing in the sun in front of the TV whenever he wasn't busy.
Taichi, who stuck his nose into every new question, practically always by Koushiro’s side when talking about new Digimon anomalies, or discussing gossip with Mimi. Gosh, Yamato never knew exactly when Taichi had developed a taste for gossip, but now he could only regret never trying to steer him away from it.
It was Taichi who was stretchy, keeping up with his exercise, even if he dropped out of soccer and went into international politics. Somehow, the male had kept his stretchy-ness from his middle school days, evident by seeing Taichi stretch frighteningly similar to a cat on their shared bed, yawning so loud that sounded like a meow that Yamato was sure his boyfriend was just straight up possessed by a cat. Even more horrifying was that Yamato had to witness Taichi rapidly crab walk to him (in the dark after a long day at school, mind you), at speeds he couldn't fathom for a ‘prank’. Apparently hearing Yamato scream in fear was extremely enjoyable to him.
It was his lover Taichi, who managed to balance all of these traits into somehow being endearing. It was the brunet that always leads Yamato into the couch on a lazy Sunday afternoon, always exclaiming he works too much. Those days are always a highlight of his week. It was Taichi, who while sticking his nose into everything, and ranting the new gossip to Yamato, always only talked about the light, admittedly hilarious and harmless gossip, pairing it with animated facial expressions and movements that made it just a little more enjoyable. It was his boyfriend, who while being stretchy, always somehow stretched to be in, and stay in Yamato’s arms, both of them relishing each other’s warmth. It was Taichi, who always kept a balance between these traits, somehow embodying the adorableness of a cat, -
“But you are like a cat, Yamato." Taichi pointed out with a laugh.
- And embodying the obnoxiousness of one.
But, Yamato would never have it any other way.