A kinkmeme for Digimon Adventure

daisuke’s never been good at picking up after himself, so when ken finds the shirt he’d played soccer in during his sleepover the day prior crumpled up in the corner of his bedroom, he’s not confused in the least as to who it belongs to, but still gives it a sniff out of curiosity. he can’t say it smells good, ripe with daisuke’s sweat and the grime of the outdoors, but it’s wholly, undeniably daisuke, and he huffs it up even as his nose wrinkles in distaste, finding it intoxicating all the same. feeling bold and a little crazy for craving something so gross, he takes it up to his loft with him and buries his face in the soiled shirt, palming himself as he recalls daisuke running up to hug him after their match in all his jubilant, filthy glory, enveloping and overwhelming him with his scent and heat.