Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/3230186.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Big_Hero_6_(2014)
  Relationship:
      Baymax/Hiro_Hamada, Baymax_&_Hiro_Hamada
  Additional Tags:
      robot_love, Robot_Kink, Forbidden_Love, Rule_34, Sorry_Not_Sorry
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-01-25 Updated: 2015-03-31 Chapters: 6/? Words: 12060
****** Beyond Lines We Dare Not Cross ******
by skyemaxwell
Summary
     No matter how much he used that big brain of his, Hiro could not find
     another angle to this problem.
***** Chapter 1 *****
Hiro let out a muffled groan, breathing in sharply through gritted teeth as he
came down from his high. He let himself flop back into the mattress, enjoying
the few seconds of mindlessness before rationality and a vague sense of guilt
came roaring back.
He let out another sigh, a tired one, and grabbed a tissue from his bedside
table. As he wiped himself clean, he eyed the steady blinking lights of the
charging station from across the bed. He had moved Baymax from Tadashi’s part
of the room and closer to him because, well, Baymax was his now.
As soon as that thought hit, another stab of guilt made itself known and Hiro
leapt off the bed with a grunt, tossing the crumpled tissue into the basket and
making his way over to the silent robot standing lifelessly against the wall.
He stood before it, staring up in silence that stretched for far too long than
was necessary; until he couldn't control the itch in his fingers anymore and
switched off the safety lock on the machine.
“Baymax.”
Instantly, he came to life with a precise whir, lighting up and stepping out of
the pod with calculated movements.
A robot.
“Hello, Hiro.”
Hiro couldn't help the half-grin working its way on his face.
“Hey, buddy.”
He waited patiently as the robot conducted his customary scan.
“You are well today.”
“Yup.”
Hiro told himself that he was totally imagining the hint of disappointment in
Baymax’s tone.  He was a robot.
“Did you get a good rest?”
Hiro regretted the words the moment it left his mouth because—
“I have sufficiently reached my optimum power charge. Is there anything I can
help you with?”
“No.” Hiro sighed, already moving away to his computer.
“…are you satisfied with your care?”
Hiro also imagined the slight hesitation there. He needed to get a grip.
“I’m a little cold.” He mumbled, settling into his chair and starting up his
computer.
The truth was, his body was still thrumming from his...previous activity, and
the flush on his cheeks must be obvious to Baymax even without his scans. And
yet, without complaint, Baymax obligingly turned on his built-in body heating
and shuffled closer to Hiro. Hiro closed his eyes as big, soft arms enveloped
him and a warm pressure rested on top of his head.
Yeah, he was in big trouble.
Everyone told him he was smart. His brother, Tadashi, would always tell him to
do something with ‘that big brain’ of his. But Hiro couldn't believe it had
been freakin’ Fred who had noticed, and made him realize what was going on.
“Hey, little man. Got a second?”
“Yeah?”
He had been staying up late at the University Lab for a while now, working on a
new project-- unwilling to leave his workstation until he absolutely had to.
Baymax, of course, wouldn’t let him sleep in his lab, claiming that a ‘good
night’s rest’ was vital for ‘optimum functionality.’ Still, Hiro couldn’t hate
him because the big lump would bring him food and coffee and an occasional bar
of chocolate. Besides, who needed a bed when Baymax was the most comfortable
pillow in the universe?
“Where’s Baymax?” Fred threw himself onto Hiro’s swivel chair, hands already
grabbing at the random blueprint on his desk.
Hiro shrugged.
“Probably out on a coffee run. He’s awesome like that.”
Fred gave him a thumbs up.
“Right! Baymax is pretty amazing, huh?”
Hiro grinned, the familiar feeling of pride puffing up his chest. He never got
tired of talking about how awesome Baymax was—
“Did Tadashi tell you how he programmed him?”
“Yeah, Baymax was programmed to help people.” Hiro tinkered with the mechanical
hand he had in front of him. He was working on a new armor for Baymax—not for
fighting, but for everyday use. There was only so much wear-and-tear Baymax’s
hypo-allergenic vinyl wrapping could handle.  “He’s a nurse-bot.”
“Did he tell you about the sub-program he has in there somewhere?”
Hiro paused.
“Subprogram?”
“Yeah, him and a bunch of computer geeks worked on it for weeks. I was told it
was just a prototype, but I think he coded it into Baymax anyway.”
“What was it?” Hiro asked, a little wary.
“The ability to evolve.” Fred grinned at him, all teeth. “I still don’t get the
science of it—but the programming allows Baymax to adapt to situations, learn
and evolve—like a supercomputer. But as you can see—he doesn’t have enough
juice in him to crunch that much data, and the program was still in the
works—so his evolution is pretty negligible—“
“No way,” Hiro exclaimed, waving a hand. “Baymax grew so much since he was
first activated. He gets my pop-culture references now, see? I taught him
well.”
“Fist buuuump!” Fred crowed, laughing along. “But yeah, it was supposed to be
negligible—I overheard Go-Go and Wasabi talking about it too—but Baymax’s
current evolution isn’t supposed to be possible.”
“What are you saying?”
“I think—and mind, bro, this is my brainy theory so listen up—that the
programming is legit and Baymax will probably grow even more human than he
already is.”
For a second, Hiro felt an overwhelming sense of excitement at the prospect,
until he saw Fred’s rather somber expression.
“Why is that bad thing?”
“It’s not,” Fred hurriedly assured him. “But… Hiro, you should be more
careful.”
 “I don’t understand.” He was beginning to feel upset.
Fred stood, smiling almost apologetically.
“Sorry if I sounded so grim, little buddy! I’ll leave you to your awesome
science now. Fred-zilla out!”
Hiro stared down at the linoleum floors of the lab, trying to understand the
feelings swirling inside him. Before he left, Fred hesitated by the door,
shooting Hiro one last look.
“Just… don’t forget what he is, okay little man?”
Hiro stood in the middle of the lab for a long time, unmoving, stewing over
Fred’s words. Baymax found him like that, and immediately inquired about his
health.
“From a scale of one to ten—“
“I’m fine, buddy.” Hiro extended a hand where Baymax promptly deposited a warm
paper cup.
“Your neuro-transmitter levels indicate that you are upset—“
“Baymax—“
“There, there.”
Hiro couldn’t help the muffled laugh as Baymax engulfed him in a warm hug. Ever
since Baymax had updated himself on the ‘psychological and emotional needs of a
pubescent male,’ Hiro had had to withstand constant touches, hugs and bodily
contact. He found it funny at first, and then it actually became… really
comforting. Huh.
“Thanks, Baymax.” Hiro said, as was customary. “I feel much better now.”
Baymax moved back with a precise whir of his mechanics, head tilting to the
side as big, wide optics regarded him. Hiro smiled back, a warm feeling in his
chest. Slowly, a large, ballooned finger rose up and touched his cheek. It
traveled up, all precise movements, and gently brushed the unruly hair from his
eyes.
Hiro felt the warm feeling in his chest tighten as Fred’s words rang in his
head, like a siren, and his big brain finally caught up to the facts and how
did he not see this—
Don’t forget what he is.
A robot.
He was in love with a robot.
***** Chapter 2 *****
Chapter Notes
     Warning up ahead for Robot Kink!
It was nothing, and then suddenly, it was everything.
That was probably why Hiro had trouble adjusting to life after his metaphorical
rose-tinted spectacles were rudely torn off. Suddenly, he couldn’t stop staring
at Baymax’s hands, the way it hung comically at his sides, seemingly useless,
but it was all he could think of.
The large, white, air-filled hands that looked harmless but were actually
heavily equipped with sensors and electronic pulses, with enough juice to jump-
start a heart.
Ever since his revelation, Hiro had taken to freezing up whenever Baymax
brushed against him, or patted his head, or hugged him—and Baymax, who was
extremely attentive to every minor blip in his statistics, had taken to
pestering him with questions every waking moment.
“You are experiencing muscle tension in several areas—“
“My scans suggests that you are experiencing low-level anxiety—“
“Will ‘leaving you alone for just five seconds’ help alleviate your worries?”
Finally, at wits end, Hiro had lashed out, forcing Baymax into statis mode with
an angry command. Frightened at the sudden deactivation, Hiro had fallen to his
knees in front of Baymax’s charging station, hugging the red pod and crying
messily onto the shiny carbon-fiber body. He felt awful, and guilty, and so, so
confused.
It wasn’t until Baymax had re-awakened and silently collected Hiro into his
arms did he manage to finally calm down. Baymax cradled him, like a child, and
did not let go until morning.
Baymax had—for lack of a better word—evolved.
Maybe he learned tact, Hiro mused to himself, as Baymax sidled to his bed,
plucking the covers and gently tucking him in.
The incessant questions had stopped—and in its stead, was Baymax’ constant
hovering and relentless attention to his needs. Hiro couldn’t go to the
bathroom without Baymax trailing after him like a puppy. It was kind of
embarrassing to know that there was a 6’5 robot patiently waiting outside your
bathroom door while you took a leak.
But Hiro was too scared to push him away again.
Baymax’ de-activation, even for that short period of time, had terrified him.
He kept flashing back to the warp-hole, and the helplessness he felt as he
watched Baymax grow smaller and smaller and eventually disappearing in a flash
of white. He spent sleepless nights re-building the exoskeleton exactly as
Tadashi had, driven by the irrational fear that Baymax was still active in that
pure space, drifting alone, with no-one to talk to or care for.
He swore he would never leave him like that again.
But Baymax seemed to have picked up on some things, and one of them was the
sudden need for silence. Hiro would end up staring into space for hours at a
time, not talking, not moving. Just… staring. His aunt had been worried, of
course. He was reverting back to the vegetative state he had been after
Tadashi’s death. Baymax was probably equally concerned—but he had learned to
keep his words to himself, and instead found ways to show it through actions.
Hiro would diligently eat the meals Baymax brought him, since he couldn’t stand
the despair it brought the robot. And, honestly, that should have made him
laugh. A robot, despairing. But there was no other word for it. Baymax became
restless when Hiro did not eat his food, or rejected the fluid that was
‘required to replenish his body.’ Baymax made sure Hiro did his homework, and
kept in contact with all of his friends.
After two weeks of this, Hiro was finally convinced that he could maybe, just
maybe, live through this after all.
And then the dreams began.
It was faceless figures at first. And Hiro barely remembered his dreams when he
awoke. But then they became more detailed, and he began to remember more of it.
A brush of fingers.
Smooth, slippery vinyl.
A calm voice calling his name.
Hiro cried out even as he opened his eyes, crushed with the realization that
this was not something that he could simply brush away anymore. It was a
legitimate problem and Hiro was out of angles.
“Hiro.”
He looked up so quickly, he almost pulled a muscle. Baymax was by his bed,
gazing down at him with his ever-calm demeanor.
“I was alerted by a sound of distress. Are you alright?”
“Yeah,” Hiro mumbled, hating the flush creeping up his cheeks. “Just a
nightmare… Sorry, Baymax. You can go back to sleep.”
“I do not require re-charge as of the moment.” Baymax replied, and Hiro felt a
pang in his chest. Robots did not sleep.  “How may I assist you?”
“No, really. I’m fine. Level Zero pain. I’ll… I’ll just go back to sleep.”
“My scans detect elevated heart-rate and adrenalin in your system. There is no
need to fear, I am here.”
“Yeah.” Hiro let out a gust of breath, smiling weakly. “Yeah, you are.”
Baymax tilted his head to the side.
“You are experiencing sexual arousal.”
Words escaped him as he stared up at Baymax, and it was all he could do to
clutch the sheets closer to himself, as if he could hide the fact that he was
hard. As if it were not true.
“It is alright.” Baymax continued. “Arousal is a common symptom of Puberty, and
is easily remedied by Self-Pleasure, or Mastur—“
“Okay, stop!” Hiro’s voice broke as he scrambled back, shoulders hitting the
headboard. “Seriously, Baymax—“
“I shall do my best to guide you through the process.” Said Baymax in a
pleasant, soothing tone, meant for patients. “On a scale of one to ten, how
familiar are you to the process of Self-Stimulation—“
“Baymax, stop.” Hiro hung his head, suddenly weak.
Baymax paused. After a few seconds, one arm came up with a gentle whir and
patted him on the head.
“Ejaculation is a very healthy way for young pubescent males to relieve their
mental and physical stress. You have been plagued with with an unknown cause of
stress for the duration of this week, Hiro. Perhaps this is your body’s way of
telling you to ‘relax.”
Hiro closed his eyes, helpless against the soothing tone of Baymax’ voice. In
the face of his calm demeanor, he felt somewhat foolish for panicking so much.
Baymax helped him relax back onto the mattress, continuously stroking his hair.
“There, there. It is alright.”
“Thanks, Baymax.” Hiro whispered.
As was customary.
“Are you sufficiently relaxed?”
“Yeah.”
“Then let us begin.”
Hiro’s eyes snapped open.
“…huh?”
“Customarily, clothes are not required in the process of Masturbation. However,
if this makes you uncomfortable—“
Once again, Hiro was robbed of speech as Baymax stood patiently by his bedside,
apparently waiting for him to take his clothes off.
“Baymax I can’t—“ Hiro choked on his words. “I’m not going to m-masturbate—“
“Your arousal has abated 12.6% but still remains untreated.” Baymax replied
easily. “I am here to help you, Hiro. Let me help.”
What could he say to that? Hiro closed his eyes as he finally gave in;
exhaustion, stress and the past weeks finally catching up to him and he… he
just gave in.
“I… I’ll do it myself.”
The moment he wrapped himself in his hands, the cry was half-way out his mouth.
He had his eyes firmly shut, unable to look at Baymax’ calm, assessing gaze
while he touched himself under the sheets.
“Breathe in deeply.” Baymax would occasionally, helpfully suggest, and Hiro
prayed that Baymax did not catch the way his arousal would spike at the sound
of his voice.
Finally, he found a rhythm. He was aroused to the point that it was slick
enough to feel mind-numbingly good. His breath came out in pants, and, slowly,
gradually, his legs began to spread.
“It is alright to cry out.” Baymax suddenly spoke up. “Crying is also a natural
response to pleasure.”
And that was it—
Hiro cried out, part pleasure and part shame, as he spilled into his hands. He
lay boneless against his sheets, eyes squeezed shut against the maelstrom of
emotions inside him. Vaguely, he felt a warm pressure on his head and a soft,
soothing voice—but he was already falling asleep.
For the first time in weeks, he tumbled into the darkness, and did not feel
like drowning.
***** Chapter 3 *****
Chapter Notes
     There is a balance between squick and tragic love, and I am dancing a
     dangerous line. Thoughts are very much appreciated.
For some reason, it became a routine.
After that night, Hiro had to begrudgingly admit that Baymax may have had a
point. He felt better, somewhat. At least, good enough to show up at Uni and
assure his friends that he wasn’t dying in a ditch. He picked up where he left
with his project and ignored the glances Fred and (though she tried to be
discreet) Honey Lemon occasionally sent his way. Baymax had taken to heart
Hiro’s demand for his right to discretion, and did not speak of it at all.
In fact, Hiro would have convinced himself it was all a dream, had it not
happened again the following night.
And the night after that.
And after that.
It was like a dam had opened and suddenly, there was no stopping his body.
Every night, without fail, he would come out of the showers, already half-hard
and avoiding Baymax’s gaze. He would climb onto bed, despite it being only 9
o’clock, and wait for Baymax to tuck him in.
“You are sexually aroused.”
No matter how many times he heard it though, it was still embarrassing as hell.
“May I be of assistance?”
Every time, Hiro would say ‘No,’ but he found that it was getting harder and
harder to do so each night. He scared himself with how much he was tempted to
see how far Baymax would take this. If Hiro told him to, would he touch him
there? Would he stroke his member with his hand and bring him to climax?
At one point, Hiro brought himself over the edge with these thoughts
alone—imagining Baymax’s hand around him, his large arms surrounding him and
grounding him. The fact remained that, despite everything, he always waited
until Baymax stood over his bed, calmly scanning him and watching him, before
he brought himself to orgasm.  
Afterwards, he’d fight to stay awake as Baymax cleaned him, using a slightly
damp towel (always warm) and running it over his thighs. It was all very
clinical, but Hiro simply basked in the feel of smooth vinyl running over his
skin, much more decadent than any silk in the world. And then, after everything
was done, Baymax would give him one last pat on the head and say:
“You have been a good boy.”
And, okay, it wasn’t like Hiro was a pervert. But he lived for those words. He
would never admit it out loud, not even under torture, but he loved hearing
Baymax say that. The “Psychological and Emotional Needs of a Pubescent Boy”
would probably say that it was his subconscious yearning for approval from a
long-absent parental figure—but what the heck. It just sounded nice when Baymax
said it.
“Hey, Hiro.”
Hiro dropped the hammer onto his foot.
“Ow! Mother—“
“On a scale of one to ten—“ Instantly, Baymax was there, peering over him like
a worried mother hen. “…how would you rate your pain?”
“That’s probably a two.” Go-Go knelt down to inspect his foot. “Haven’t you
learned that spacing out in the Nerd-Lab is a safety hazard, genius?”
“May I conduct a closer inspection?”
Go-Go looked up at Baymax weirdly. “You’ve never had to ask before. Go ahead,
inspect away.”
Hiro kept his mouth shut as Baymax flopped to his knees (that should be funny,
but Hiro couldn’t find it in himself to laugh), gently lifting his foot and
taking off his shoe. Go-Go stepped back and waited, chewing on her gum.
“You have a slight contusion on your left foot.” Baymax reported, and Hiro bit
back the “Yeah, no kidding” that was halfway out his mouth. “I suggest an ice
pack. I will carry you to a more comfortable area.”
“It’s just a bruise, Baymax.” Go-Go snickered, making a face at Hiro when the
boy shot her a glare over Baymax’ shoulder. “One scan and you’ll see he’ll
live, that big baby.”
“I am responsible for the health and well-being of Hiro.” Came Baymax’ reply.
“Did you want something, Go-Go?” Hiro quickly said, as Baymax busied himself
with the treatment.
“Right,” Go-Go popped her gum. “There’s a rave down-town this Friday night. I
managed to rope the entire gang into going. Wanna go have some fun?”
“Uh, I’m sixteen.”
“I promise clean, healthy, no-alcohol fun.” Go-Go smirked.
“Such as?”
“Dancing.” Go-Go stepped closer, smile widening. “I can introduce you to some
girls.”
Hiro felt something in his stomach drop and he fought to school his expression.
“Not interested.”
“Oh, come on. Just because you’re a nerd, doesn’t mean you have to act all
reclusive. I promise I know some decent girls you’ll like—“
“Are they as smart as you?”
“Well, not assmart—“ 
“Then, no.”
“Okay, fine, just come out with us on Friday night then.” Go-Go rolled her
eyes.
 Hiro pondered over it for a few seconds.
“Can Baymax come?”
“If he likes.” Go-Go turned to look at Baymax. “Wanna learn how to dance,
Baymax?”
“I am a robot. I do not dance.”
“It’s like Karate, but with different moves.” Go-Go offered.
“Dancing is not included in my fighting database.”
“We’ll teach you.” Hiro said, and that was it. He was going.
“Meet us at the Uni Gate at 7, Friday night.” Go-Go said, pleased. “Don’t be
late!”
And that was how Hiro found himself squeezed between Fred and a girl he barely
knew in some local resto-bar downtown on a bustling Friday night.
Hiro tried not to frown as he stared down at the orange juice he had in his
hand. Honestly, he wasn’t having much fun, and his mind was wandering off to
the complex equation he had left unsolved this afternoon.
Go-Go had brought ‘friends’ along with her, and introduced Hiro to a girl of
the same age who was apparently the only other sixteen year old in the
university. Her name was Gabby and she was a Programming major. That was all he
remembered.
“It’s really a fascinating piece of machinery, isn’t it?”
That got his attention.
“Yeah, our friend Tadashi—god rest his soul—really did something special with
Baymax.” Fred replied enthusiastically. “But see, his little brother—that’s
Hiro, y’see—he’s got some mad skills as well! He made me the sickest monster
costume that can breathe fire, how cool is that?”
“You make robots, too?” Gabby turned to smile at him.
Hiro tried to smile back.
“Robotics track, that’s me.”
“What’s it programmed to do?” Gabby glanced back fascinatingly at Baymax, who,
due to his large frame, was unable to fit inside the table and was left to
stand by the bar. A crowd of girls surrounded him, laughing and occasionally
reaching up to squeeze his arm. Hiro grit his teeth when one drunk girl dove in
and outright hugged Baymax.
“A healthcare companion.” Fred supplied.
“Wow. How effective is it?”
“’It’ has a name.” Hiro suddenly spoke up, rudely. “And he isn’t just some
stupid robot with a fascinating set of specs. He’s my friend.”
Hiro grabbed his glass and viciously downed the rest of his juice. It burned
like acid down his throat. He stood up and managed to squeeze out of the booth
(over Fred’s loud protests) and made a beeline for the bar. Baymax was alerted
to his presence and duly turned towards his direction, raising an arm.
“Hello, Hiro.”
“We’re going home, Baymax.” Hiro replied shortly.
“Aw, don’t take him away from us!” One girl giggled, latching onto Baymax’ arm.
“He’s just the cutest thing in the world, I just wanna hug him to death!”
“My huggable design was not made to cause thoughts of death. Please allow me to
inquire as to which areas I might improve on—“
All the girls around him began to laugh and coo and Hiro was just so done.
“It’s just an expression.” He said with gritted teeth. “Baymax, come on.”
“What’s the matter, little boy?” One girl peered down at him. “Need someone to
take you home and tuck you in?”
“I can be your mommy tonight, if you want—“
“Shut up, Tina, he’s a fucking minor—“
Suddenly, Baymax tensed up and grabbed Hiro by the arm.
“I have detected an alarming level of alcohol content in your bloodstream.
Hiro, have you been drinking?”
“What? No, I—“
And it was like a switch had turned on, and dizziness hit him like a hammer.
“Ugh—“
“Hiro!”
Hiro registered the familiar feel of Baymax’ soft vinyl against his skin,
blissfully cool—huh? Was Baymax usually this cool—and the impression of falling
into an abyss. He might have heard Honey Lemon’s slightly hysterical voice and
Hiro honestly tried to open his eyes to comfort her, but they were so heavy.
His entire head felt heavy. 
He floated in and out of consciousness and in the back of his mind, he
thought—aw crap, was he drunk? Was this being drunk? He was never going to
drink ever again—and then, like light piercing the dark sky, he felt something
wonderfully cool on his forehead.
Groaning, Hiro latched tightly onto consciousness and opened his eyes. He
recognized his bed. Baymax was peering down at him, optics blinking, and Hiro
thought—I’m safe.
“…what happened?”
“You had accidentally consumed a significant amount of alcoholic beverage. In
other words: You are drunk.”
“Unbelievable.” Hiro let out a breath, closing his eyes. “Did everyone else
already leave?”
“They left approximately one hour ago after confirming that you will be
alright.”
“Great.” Hiro shifted, feeling disgusting in his clothes. He smelled like
cigarette smoke and cheap beer and it made his stomach roil. “I need a shower.”
“You are in no condition to leave the bed.” Baymax quickly put a hand against
his chest, preventing him from getting up.
“I stink, and it’s making me sick.”
“I suggest a bed-bath.” Baymax’ chest lit up and provided a simplistic photo of
an elderly man in a hospital bed, being wiped down by a smiling nurse.
Hiro had laughed at first, until he realized Baymax had already prepared the
washcloth he always used when—
Hiro turned a deep red.
“N-no thanks, I’ll just risk the shower—“
“Please remove your clothing and lay back on the bed.”
And maybe it was the no-nonsense way Baymax said it, but Hiro flopped back to
the bed, staring up at the ceiling and re-thinking his life choices. Baymax was
efficient and clinical, and he had Hiro stripped, wiped down and clean in ten
minutes.
But that was more than enough time.
Hiro grit his teeth and turned his head away in embarrassment as Baymax moved
to re-dress him. The robot paused, most likely to scan him, and Hiro decided
that he’d rather not hear those words tonight.
“Baymax.”
“I am here.”
“…I think I’ll have to take care of this, so…”
Baymax tilted his head to the side, and Hiro could literally hear his
processors parsing through the colloquialism.
“May I be of assistance?”
And he blamed it on the alcohol. He blamed it on the weightlessness he felt,
lying there on the bed like a pile of flesh and bones.
But honestly, he was just tired of fighting back.
“…Yes.”
“What do you require?” Baymax did not even pause to wonder why tonight was
different. He was so straightforward and sincere—all he wanted was to help
Hiro. Somehow, that just made his eyes sting and Hiro raised an arm to cover
them.
“Touch me.” He whispered.
Immediately, Baymax’ warm hand was on Hiro’s head.
“There, there.”
It startled a laugh out of Hiro. He closed his eyes as warmth welled up and
threatened to explode in his chest. Mind blank, he took himself in his hand and
let out a hiss of breath. His left arm was still over his eyes, and he was not
about to take them away. Baymax’ hand was a comfortable weight on his head,
stroking his hair gently, like always.
“Are you scanning me, Baymax?”
Hiro didn’t know why he was talking. But he wanted to hear Baymax’ voice.
“Scan complete. Your neuro-transmitter levels are elevated.” Baymax dutifully
replied. “This indicates that you are…happy, or, excited.”
Hiro was tempted to laugh again.
“Touch me.” He said instead.  
“Will touching you help improve your pleasure?”
Hiro tried not to groan.
“Hell, yeah.”
Baymax complied, stroking the arm covering his face with gentle fingers.
Gradually, Hiro released his arm and slowly, gradually began to smooth his palm
over Baymax’ smooth vinyl. He basked in the gentle caresses of the robot,
strangely intimate, and not overly erotic. But he wanted more.
“More.” He whispered, more to himself.
He grasped Baymax’ large hand and guided it across his chest, and Baymax
complied, stroking in precise motions, as if memorizing the path that Hiro had
set for him.
Hiro was getting dizzy again, and again, maybe it was the alcohol, but
everything felt… rawer. Powerful. More.
Without thinking, he pushed Baymax’ hand lower and wrapped it around his
throbbing member. He groaned at the feel of warm slickness enveloping him.
“Oh my god…”
“Would you like me to assist you in your completion?”
“Yes, yes…!” Hiro whispered, back arching. “Baymax…”
“I am here.” Came Baymax’ soothing voice, as the large hand began to move.
Pleasure lit up his body like a current at the first stroke, and Hiro threw his
head back to stifle a cry. Baymax kept a steady pace, up and down, all
mechanical movements, and Hiro couldn’t believe how good it was—
“Harder,” Hiro murmured, spreading his legs wider. “Baymax, harder—“
“I do not understand—“
“Squeeze it a little more—ah!” Hiro groaned at the sudden suction in Baymax’
hand. “Ah… shit… just like that…”
“You are nearing orgasm.” Baymax reported as-a-matter-of-fact-ly. “The
treatment is working.”
Hiro could not reply as he was too busy immersed in the pleasure that had
turned deliciously good as he began to peak. He was moaning now, and he ought
to have been embarrassed by the sounds that came out of his mouth, but he was
too far gone.
Orgasm came like a tsunami wall, swift and devastating, and he crashed back
down to bed, shaking with the aftershocks.
He was exhausted.
He fumbled with one hand, trying to reach for Baymax, until the large hand
gently patted him on the head.
“You have been a good boy.”
He surrendered into darkness.  
 
===============================================================================
 
When he opened his eyes, it was still dark.
Hiro stared up at the ceiling, stark lines lit up from the streetlamps outside
his window. In the distance, there was the sound of an occasional passing car,
but mostly it was quiet. So quiet, Hiro could hear his heartbeat.
The clock said 3:10.
Slowly, he sat up from the bed, staring lifelessly at the sheets. His head was
pounding and his mouth tasted like cotton, and—oh yeah, he got drunk. He
plucked listlessly at the cotton shirt he was wearing. Baymax must have dressed
him.
He glanced over across the foot of his bed, where Baymax stood quietly in his
charging station. He must be on stand-by mode. Quietly, without much thought,
Hiro got up and padded over to the still figure. He gazed at the wealth of
white, smooth vinyl, light reflecting dully against it. Slowly, Hiro raised a
hand towards the charging pod.
And he switched on the Safety.
Like this, Baymax could not re-activate automatically.
Hiro let his hand fall to his side as he took in a deep breath. Slowly, he took
one step back. His knees gave way and he fell to the floor with a dull thump.
And then he finally gave in and began to cry.  
***** Chapter 4 *****
Chapter Notes
     I had planned to end this at three chapters, but the unexpected
     response to this inspired me, and now here's another chapter. I'm a
     little torn because I kind of liked how this had ended previously as
     open-ended and downright *miserable* but this just begs to be
     continued. Let me know what you think.
Wasabi was his favorite.
Okay, so maybe he liked all his friends equally, but Wasabi was currently his
favorite. Mainly because Hiro could spend a quiet lunch break with him, without
being given meaningful looks or loaded questions.
The letter came yesterday.
Hiro had been bouncing peanuts off Baymax’ tummy and trying to work on his
equation (still not getting it right grah) when Honey Lemon came bursting in
with an excited squeal, an envelope in her hand.
The letter came from the San Frokyo Hospital, the city’s largest, most
prestigious medical facility; and they were inviting Hiro to present Baymax in
their annual medical conference.
“This is an amazing chance, Hiro!” Honey Lemon was ecstatic. “This was what
Tadashi always dreamed of. He wanted Baymax to help all these people. You could
get funding!”
Hiro had smiled and raised his glass and accepted congratulations from all the
other students in the lab. It wasn’t long before his friends realized that his
heart wasn’t in it.
Hiro couldn’t bear to talk about it yet, still trying to understand the strange
emotion that rested like a heavy weight in his stomach. He knew he should be
happy. Honey Lemon was right; this was Tadashi’s dream. His whole purpose for
creating Baymax was to help a lot of people.
Not to serve as his brother’s sick fantasy.
Hiro crumpled another sheet in his hand, hurling it towards the overflowing
bin. He needed to write an acceptance letter to the Hospital, and it should
have been a simple matter, but it was not. The words didn’t come out because
something was just wrong and he couldn’t figure it out—
Wrong.
Deep down, Hiro knew why.
For the past two years since Tadashi died, Baymax had been Hiro’s. He was his
best friend, his companion. His family. Baymax lived only for him—was attentive
to everyone’s physical needs—but devoted to his emotional ones. Hiro got used
to that. At the sudden reminder that Baymax was created to benefit
everyone—something ugly and juvenile welled up his chest.
“Hiro, it is time for your dinner.”
Baymax and Aunt Cass were now fast friends, bonding over the responsibility of
making sure Hiro “put some meat on those bones.” Hiro sat, slumped against the
chair, head hanging from the headrest as he stared up at the ceiling. 
“I’m not hungry.”
He tried.
“You have not eaten since 10:00 this morning.”
“Maybe later.”
“Hiro.”
Hiro glanced towards the door where Baymax stood, carrying a plate of
meatballs.
“…what is the matter?”
Hiro regarded him wordlessly, and Baymax calmly met his gaze.
“Hey, Baymax.”
“Yes.”
“…are you happy?”
Baymax paused, tilting his head, and once again, Hiro felt like hitting himself
in the head.
“I am a robot.” Baymax repeated, almost slowly. “I was not programmed to feel
human emotions such as ‘happiness.”
“Yeah, sorry.” Hiro mumbled, already turning away, embarrassed.
“However, if you ask if I am satisfied with my current situation… then, yes. I
am. I am happy to assist in your growth and state of well-being.”
Hiro tapped the blunt end of his lead pencil against his desk, chewing over his
words.
“…would it make you more…. ‘Satisfied,’ if you were able to help more people?”
He slowly asked, almost afraid of the answer.
Baymax straightened with a mechanical jerk, as if startled.
“…I do anything and everything that is required of me.”
“You were programmed to be a Healthcare companion. Tadashi made you so you
could help a lot of people.” Hiro continued, eyes downcast. “Aren’t you
dissatisfied with just…me?”
Baymax was silent for so long, Hiro had to check if he had somehow de-
activated.
“Baymax?”
“It is true that I was programmed to cater to the needs of the many. But, Hiro…
You are my top priority.”
And damn it if Hiro didn’t feel his heart soar at that. But he was practical,
and he knew that he was being selfish, keeping Baymax to himself when he was
created to be so much more.
“We’ve been invited to the San Fransokyo Hospital, to give a presentation at
their annual Medical Conference.”
Baymax simply looked at him.
“I’m presenting you, Baymax. They’re gonna see how amazing you are. They’ll
understand how… the world needs something like you. They’ll probably… need you
more than I do.”
And Hiro tried to keep his tone light, he honestly tried. But damn it, it hurt
to say it out loud.
“Hiro,” Baymax said, and Hiro swore he sounded lost. “Are you, somehow,
dissatisfied with your care?”
“No, no, of course not.” Hiro rubbed at his face. “How could you even think
that? You’re… you’re the best healthcare companion ever. You’re my friend.”
“…then why are you sending me away?”
Hiro stood with a clatter of his seat, and with a few steps, he was hugging
Baymax fiercely.
“I’m not.” Hiro whispered into the soft cushioning. “I’m never sending you
away, Baymax.”
And it was again proof of Baymax’ artificial nature, that he was satisfied with
Hiro’s simple assurance. He continued coaxing Hiro to eat his dinner; and Hiro,
too tired to argue further, chewed tastelessly on the meatballs as he
contemplated his computer screen.
To the distinguished board members of the San Fransokyo Hospital:
Baymax stood patiently behind him, as was customary these days, and it was only
when the blunt end of the spoon poked him on the lip that he realized that
Baymax was trying to feed him.
“Bayxmax, what—“ Hiro waved him off, giving him a funny look.
“You need to finish your food.” Baymax insisted, scooping another meatball from
the plate he now held.
“I’ll eat it, I’ll eat it—“ Hiro replied hastily, trying to take the spoon
back.
“Open wide, the choo-choo train is coming.”
Hiro paused; a small, fond smile making its way onto his face at the straight-
faced way of saying it that was just so Baymax. 
“Oh yeah?”
“Choo-choo.” Baymax chirruped, offering the spoon. “Say ‘ahhh.’”
Hiro smothered a laugh and opened his mouth obligingly.
“Ahhh—ow.”
Baymax’s aim was true but it was probably the first time he used a spoon, and
Hiro’s teeth met its painful acquaintance.
“I am sorry—“
“Ow.”  Hiro said pointedly.
“It was not my intention—“
“Ooo-wwww.” Hiro said in a sing-song voice. “That hurt. My teeth—it’s in so
much pain.”
Hiro was barely holding back his laughter at Baymax’ fretful movements. But
then Baymax suddenly bent down to eye level and…
Hiro blinked up at him incredulously.
“What… what did you just do?”
“I ‘kissed the pain away.’” Baymax explained, a finger raised in the air. “Is
it working?”
Hiro worked his jaw, trying to make a sound, but all that came out was a weak
chuckle.
“If you call that a kiss.” He mumbled, hanging his head.
“Was it administered incorrectly?” If Baymax had eyebrows, it would surely be
knotted.
Hiro waved a dismissive hand. “Naw, it was fine—“
“Please demonstrate so I may correct my mistake.”
“No.” Hiro scowled at him, suddenly uncomfortable. “Besides, k-kissing is for
humans. You don’t have the physical capability to ‘administer it.’”
Baymax was silent for a while, pondering on Hiro’s words.
“I see.”
Should Hiro feel disappointed that Baymax dropped the subject? What the hell
was he talking about—of course not. He should be relieved. He should be—
“You’ve got sauce on you.” Hiro muttered, pointing at the area of Baymax’ lower
face where it connected with Hiro’s mouth.
Baymax cocked his head, unperturbed.
“What are you, five?” Hiro laughed softly, rising to his knees on his chair. He
yanked down Baymax’s head to eye-level, with all intention of wiping the spot
away with his sleeve. But then—
“Hiro.” Baymax spoke up patiently, after a long stretch of silence. “What is
the matter?”
Hiro’s eyes fell from where he was lost, staring into Baymax’ optics. They were
premium, high-grade lenses that were capable of x-ray scans, and a whole lot
impressive things; but they weren’t expressive. It was physically not possible.
 
And Hiro was caught up in a now-familiar well of self-hate and longing, as he
imagined a look of tenderness there.
Slowly, as if pulled in by the pain in his heart, Hiro leaned in and pressed
his lips gently to the general area of Baymax’ mouth.
Somehow, his eyes had fallen shut.
Slowly, like moving underwater, Hiro tilted his head and swiped his tongue
across the smooth vinyl, licking off the offending sauce there.
And then he pulled back, head bowed, unable to look at Baymax in the face.
“Thank you for cleaning me.” Baymax spoke up; his smooth, gentle voice sounding
abnormally loud in the face of their intimacy.
Hiro shook his head—that was all in his mind. Baymax had no perceptions of
intimacy. It was all him.
“Anytime, buddy.” Hiro whispered, sinking back to his seat and turning away
towards his computer.
He stared at the blinking cursor on the screen as he listened to Baymax
tottering around the room, tidying up this and that. From downstairs, the muted
sounds from Aunt Cass’ soap opera floated up to the room.  
And it was between one moment and the next. There was ever really one answer.
It came swiftly, like an ax to the head.
With heavy hands, Hiro reached over and and began to type.
To the distinguished board members of the San Fransokyo Hospital:
The words on the screen began to blur.
I accept your invitation to present as a Speaker at the San Fransokyo Medical
Conference.
***** Chapter 5 *****
Chapter Notes
     Reminder once again that this is rated Explicit.
     I am, again and again, surprised by how many people have taken to
     this story, and by how much I was inspired in turn by your support.
     This chapter was conceived on a long bus ride from the airport, and I
     just had to write it down no matter what. This is unbeta'd and I
     confess to having a penchant for run-on sentences--so please forgive
     all that. I'm a bit more nervous with the writing style that came out
     of this one. I'd like to know what you think. Comments are what gives
     me inspiration.
     Cheers!
The thing was, Tony was like a gift from heaven—exactly the kind of distraction
he needed.
Hiro threw his head back to the pillow with a soft thump, exhaling gently
through his nose as he soaked in the gentle fingers stroking down his ribcage. 
He had been as lifeless as a wet dishrag for the past month. The presentation
at the San Frokyo Hospital Conference was, as he predicted, a big hit—and
medical researchers and doctors alike exclaimed and cooed over Baymax. Pride
and resigned despair warred inside him as he watched them enter into talks
about further developing the “soft-type” robot, which was the right step in the
direction for helping the sick and elderly.
“Lift your leg.” A whisper in his ear.
The biggest issue that came up (and also something Hiro had predicted) was the
fact that despite Baymax’ numerous licensed medical procedures—it was one thing
knowing them, and another matter doing them. To be qualified as a Medical
Healthcare Companion, Baymax had to clock in a certain amount of on-site duty,
much like every other healthcare professional. Hiro, as Baymax’ official
“proprietor” in the face of Tadashi’s unavailability, had to be physically
there for every negotiation, proposal and meeting with the team of Medical
doctors and Technicians assigned to ‘Project Baymax.’ According to them, they
had to study and see for themselves how Baymax react to and handle different
and real medical scenarios. To be fair, Hiro saw their point and agreed to most
of their mostly-reasonable requests.
That didn’t mean he had to like it.
“Do you feel that?”
“Don’t talk.” Hiro murmured, almost to himself, burying his nose in the pillow.
A small chuckle answered back.
Perhaps it was a good thing he was up to his nose with work—improving Baymax’
inner core, installing extra power banks, updating his functions according to
the specs given to him by the Med-Tech in charge. He barely had time to eat,
sleep or entertain the turbulent emotions in his heart. And Baymax? Hiro
couldn’t remember the last time they had an actual conversation.
Robots don’t have conversations, Hiro reminded himself.
But, that wasn’t right either. Baymax was capable of that. Or, at least, he had
learned. Hiro had never been the type to sit still and remain idle, and that
included his motor mouth. Perhaps Baymax picked up on this, because soon
enough; he always had a ready reply to Hiro’s quips, and was more than amiable
arguing mundanely over the better points of Star Trek over Star Wars.
“Hiro.” Baymax finally caught him one night, asleep on his desk. “You will
catch a cold. Please retire to your bed.”
Hiro glanced up blearily at the clock that read 2 am.
“Did you just get in?” He jaw cracked with a huge yawn.
“Yes.”
After a few trips to the hospital, Baymax was capable of walking to it by
himself. Hiro had to fight every cell in his body from running after him the
first time Baymax left for the hospital without him.
“What did you do today?” Hiro murmured, almost absently, as he climbed into
bed.
“I observed a nurse administering vaccines for Hepatitis to a child. The child
was very unhappy.”
“Yeah, shots tend to do that.” Hiro was already half-asleep. He was just
settling in when he felt a light brush against his head. Hiro cracked open an
eye.
“Baymax?” He croaked sleepily.
“I have missed you.”
He felt something in his stomach give.
“…I miss you too, buddy.”
“You have not been eating well.” Baymax continued, and Hiro thought he could
hear the worry in his voice. “I should be here with you. You are not taking
care of yourself—“
“It’s just this last stretch, I promise.” Hiro replied quickly. “There’s just
been so much work. It’ll let up in a week.”
“I am causing you unnecessary stress—“
Hiro found the irony almost funny.
“Baymax.” But he was too tired to do anything else but sigh. “I’m tired. Tuck
me in?”
Immediately, Baymax was there, tucking the blankets more firmly around him and
smoothing out the wrinkles with a soft slide of vinyl. Hiro closed his eyes as
large, gentle hands began stroking his head, like how Hiro often saw Baymax
stroking Mochi.
“Sweet dreams.” Was the last thing Hiro remembered before sleep claimed him.
The next morning, when he woke up, Baymax had already left for the hospital.
 
===============================================================================
 
“Hi, I’m Tony.”
Hiro had a mouth full of screws and maybe grease on his face when he looked up.
The boy, Tony, was a head taller than himself, standing over his workstation
and looking down at him with an easy smile.
“Can I help you?” Hiro looked him up and down, noting the expensive shoes and
the roguish charm he exuded.
“I’m here to help you actually.” Tony laughed, and Hiro quickly corrected
himself. Disarming charm. He was dangerous.
“Are you the new TA I requested?”
“I volunteered.” Tony replied cheerfully, squatting down to peer down at what
Hiro was working on. “Nice circuits. Titanium?”
“Carbon fiber.”
“Right.” Tony held out a hand. “May I?”
Hiro didn’t know what possessed him to hand over his welder, but Tony worked
that disarming charm of his like a right hand. He sat there and watched as Tony
put the last finishing touches with a few light strokes. Despite everything,
Hiro was impressed.
“You’re from the robotics track, aren’t you?” Hiro suddenly remembered seeing
him in the other lab. He was one of the more senior students, and Hiro guessed
he might be around Tadashi’s age.
“Yup. Heard what you’re doing with Baymax and I thought I’d give you a hand.
Besides,” Tony’s smile was deep and knowing despite his light tone. “You look
pretty lonely.”
Tony was, Hiro discovered, something of a genius. Well, technically, most
everyone in their school was a genius one way or another—but Tony was in
another level altogether. Hiro couldn’t help but feel a connection. They spent
their days either in complete silence, engrossed in their own tasks, or
disagreeing over an equation, or laughing over something stupid and mundane.
Tony’s motor-mouth rivaled Hiro’s own, and his sense of humor ranged from dry
to almost unbelievably crass. After a week together, Hiro finally began to feel
human again.
Apparently, his friends noticed this too, and they began approaching him again.
“Hey, little man. Want to grab some grub?”
“Sorry, Fred. Need to finish this today.”
“Hello, Hiro! I have tickets to the movies for tomorrow! Would you like to go?”
“I’d really love to, but Tony and I need to work on this equation—“
“Hiro, do you want to—“
“Nope, sorry.”
That didn’t mean he was ready to talk to them yet.
This… this thing with Baymax that was unresolved, was too painful and confusing
to address; so Hiro had been doing his best to avoid it.  And yet, at the same
time, he couldn’t look at any of his friends in the eye without feeling the
sharp knife of guilt in his stomach, and the overwhelming urge to throw up. So
he ran away. And it seemed he would run away forever, until… well, until he was
forced to stop.
Or crash and burn.
“You love that robot, don’t you?”
Hiro glanced up from his coffee—another mutual love—at where Tony sat on his
computer terminal, working on a particularly difficult set of coding.
“Which one?”
Tony gave him a slight smile that showed him he wasn’t fooling anyone.
“Yeah, well.” Hiro replied, put-out. “What’s there not to love?”
“I get it, you know.”
Hiro pondered it for a moment. “Yeah, I guess you do.”
“No, I mean. I get it.”
Hiro waited for a beat, and then another; gauging the silence between them and
weighing what to say next.
“You,” He began, and then stopped. “What are you saying?”  
“I know what it’s like to feel something you shouldn’t be feeling.”
And there it was. Hiro felt the dread hit him like an ice bucket to the head.
Maybe Tony saw the way his face had drained of color, because he immediately
took away Hiro’s cup.
“Breathe, Hiro.” Tony instructed, clucking his tongue. “No need to be so
shocked. It's not like I'm accusing you of murder or anything.”
Hiro, still white with shock, couldn’t reply. Instead, he sank to the floor and
held his face in his hands. Tony kept companionably silent, clacking away on
the computer and allowing Hiro a moment to catch his breath.   
“…I don’t know what to do.” Hiro finally confessed with a broken whisper.
“There isn’t ever a right answer to anything.” Tony answered sympathetically.
“I’ve been where you are right now, and it isn’t pretty. Took to alcohol and
drugs and all sort of shit. That’s why when I saw you, I recognized it
immediately.”
“Recognized what?”
“You had the same look.”
“What look?”
“Like you’re about to jump off a cliff.”
Hiro felt his eyes watering and angrily swiped at them. He was so tired of
crying. He was so tired of feeling trapped into a corner, with no way out. Most
of all, he was so fucking tired of fighting inner demons at every turn, in
every waking moment and hell—Tony was right. He frightened himself at how much
he was tempted to simply jump off that cliff.
“How did you get over it?” Hiro said quietly, staring at his hands.
Tony gave a wry laugh.
“You don’t get over something like that. You just… find your way around it.”
“So how do I do that?” Hiro’s voice rose with frustration. “I don’t understand
anything anymore. Nothing makes sense. I just want someone to tell me the
answers for once in my damn life.”
Tony regarded him for a while.
“Do you want to have sex with it?”
Hiro flushed and his first reaction was to get angry.
“How dare you—“
“Because some people just want that. It’ll probably be easier for you if that’s
the case.”
His hands were trembling.
“I can’t.” He spat out.
“You can’t, or you won’t?”
Hiro gave a harsh laugh. “Is there a difference?”
“Point taken.” Tony replied easily. “Then, are you in love with it?”
Hiro gritted his teeth and did not reply. He refused to look at Tony even when
he gave a loud sigh.
“Oh boy.”
“Shut up—“
“You’re in trouble.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
“Robots have a rudimentary grasp on the subject of Human Love.” Tony said,
slowly spinning around in his swivel chair. “It’s all numbers and patterns and
an infinite combination of variables in their system—“
“Tony.” Hiro stressed. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
“Okay, then.” Tony cocked his head and smiled his disarming smile. “Wanna try
going out with me?”
Even now, Hiro did not understand how it all coalesced to that point—but at
that point; he was already gone with the wind. And so when Tony held out his
hand, it was all Hiro could do to grasp it like a drowning man and hold on for
dear life.
“Lift your hips.”
Hiro hesitated, his pants the last piece of clothing that acted as his safety
belt. Gentle but insistent hands nudged at him, and Hiro closed his eyes
against the blindfold and gave in.
Tony had been an undemanding partner.
Hiro did not have the first clue to the rules of dating, and he still wasn’t
sure what Tony expected of him—but Tony made it easy. He acted exactly the same
and did not demand anything. Instead, he was thoughtful and kind and
surprisingly sweet. Sometimes, though Hiro loathed admitting it, he was
reminded of Baymax.
Today though, at the lab, Tony noticed that Hiro was off.
“Who pissed on your cereal this morning?”
“Nightmares.” Hiro replied listlessly, picking at the tools scattered on his
desk.
Tony, for some unexplainable reason, understood what he meant.
“How long has it been since you last got laid?”
Tony smirked with satisfaction as Hiro turned bright red, sputtering.
“I’m sorry, have I mentioned? I’m sixteen.”
“So?” Tony scoffed. “I lost my virginity when I was, what, twelve?”
“Unbelievable.” Hiro muttered, already turning away.
“Wanna try me?”
Hiro shot him a dirty glare.
“No thanks.”
“I’m pretty good, you know.” Tony cajoled, smirking. “I can make you feel
good.”
“Tony.” Hiro warned.
“You can pretend I’m someone else.”
At that, Hiro should have ruthlessly cut off the idea and never speak of it
again—but it took his breath away. Hiro stared open-mouthed at Tony, who gazed
calmly back at him like he hadn’t just dropped a huge bomb.
“You…” Hiro worked his jaw. “What the hell are you saying—“
“I’m saying,” And Tony’s voice had gone low and intimate and he moved closer to
Hiro, gently touching his arm. “That I’ll do whatever you want me to do.”
Hiro should have shaken his hand away. He should have turned and walked away.
He should have stopped Tadashi from going into a burning building.
“Relax,” Hiro shivered as the soft breath touched his ear again. “I won’t hurt
you.”
Tony came over that night, and Hiro still couldn’t believe what he was doing,
even after he took a shower and stood before Tony in his bed. It was like
floating in a dream, and being pulled by strings.
Tony had smiled at him and pulled him down to sit, brushing his hair out of his
wide, panicked eyes.
“I’m going to blindfold you.” Tony gently informed him, bringing out a silk
scarf from his pocket.
Hiro did not need explaining why. Despite everything, he hated the fact that
his lower region was already twitching in anticipation at the prospect of what
was to come. Blindfolded and at the mercy of Tony’s hands—oh.
Hiro’s breath hitched as he felt the smooth texture of latex against his skin.
Tony had put on gloves.
He felt himself trembling as Tony murmured reassurances, gently helping him out
of his shirt. Goosebumps rose in his flesh and he had never felt more naked in
his life. Tony gently pushed him into bed and proceeded to simply touch him--
stroking, following the lines of his collar bones and tracing his ribs. Slowly,
gradually, Hiro felt himself getting lost in the sensation; plunged in darkness
and encouraged by the occasional whisper in his ear.  
Soon enough, he was naked and trembling in his bed, hard as ever and barely
holding back a pleading moan. He wanted to be touched down there, but at the
same time, he was too afraid. It felt like climbing up a rollercoaster;
helpless against the inevitability of the terrifying drop.
Tony paused for a moment and Hiro heard the shuffle of clothes, and a soft
click of a button. For a split second, Hiro had the horrible thought that Tony
might be recording him—but then he heard it.
“Hiro.”
And immediately, his heartbeat kicked into overdrive as he recognized the
voice.
“Baymax.” Hiro whispered, hands gripping the sheets under him.
“I am here.” Came the calm reply, and Hiro felt his eyes watering again as
pleasure wracked his body. Suddenly, the cool hands on his now-sensitive body
felt like two brands of iron running up his thigh. He let out a low moan
and—embarrassment eclipsed—spread his legs.
His breathing came out in pants as the hands smoothed its way around his groin,
touching the sensitive area behind his balls, flirting at the puckered hole
twitching just below it. Absently, Hiro felt moisture trickle out of his mouth,
but he was too far gone to care. He bucked his hips, a strangled noise escaping
as he silently begged to be touched where he wanted to be touched most—
“Ahhh!” Hiro threw his head back and felt his whole body shudder at the sudden
spike of pleasure.
He started off slowly, grasping the base and slowly running his hand up to the
tip, circling it with latexed fingers. And then from there, slowly made his way
back down again; then up, and then down again. Up, down, Up, down. It was the
greatest pleasure and torment Hiro had ever experienced.
“Tell me how you want it.”
“Harder.” Hiro murmured breathlessly, head moving from side to side. “Please,
Bayma-ah… yes. Yes.”
And finally, it was the perfect pressure, and Hiro felt a few tears escaping as
he let out a keening sound, urging the hand around him to go faster, harder.
“Baymax.” Hiro gasped, feeling the familiar pressure building up inside him.
“Baymax!”
And then suddenly, the weight above him disappeared and Hiro sat up in alarm as
he heard a loud crash. He tore off his blindfold and stared up in horror at the
familiar expanse of white. Across the room, Tony was picking himself off the
floor, hissing in pain.
“Tony!” Hiro gasped, scrambling off the bed. But Baymax wouldn’t let him.
“Stand back, Hiro.” Baymax said, his tone curt, not once letting Tony out of
his sight. “This person is dangerous—“
“What? No! He’s a friend!”
“He was hurting you—“
“He wasn’t!”
“You were crying out—“ Baymax argued.
“That wasn’t from pain!”
And Hiro felt himself burning with humiliation as Baymax finally turned to
regard him, noticing his state of undress. Hiro could practically hear things
clicking into place in Baymax’ system, and Baymax slowly lowered his defensive
pose.
“You,” Baymax began, and then hesitated. “You were calling my name.”
Hiro had no answer to that, tongue tied with humiliation. He stared at the
floor instead. Baymax picked up the discarded blanket on the floor and draped
it around Hiro’s bare shoulders so gently, he nearly broke into tears.
“Well, this is awkward.” Tony spoke up lightly, before offering a hand. “I
don’t think we’ve officially met. I’m Tony, Hiro’s boyfriend.”
Hiro would have given anything to have the floor swallow him up at that point.
He refused to look at Baymax even as the silence stretched on for a while.
Finally, just as Tony was lowering his hand, Baymax spoke.
“I am Baymax. Your personal healthcare companion.”
Hiro closed his eyes and felt something deep inside him crying out. He imagined
darkness wrapping him around in cold and ice, and something ugly and monstrous
rising up and swallowing him whole.
 
***** Chapter 6 *****
Chapter Notes
     Whoa. Still reeling over the unexpected response to this. I just want
     to thank the people who have so kindly left really, really helpful
     reviews and just the right amount of praise to really get me going.
     Inspiration is a really fickle thing, and this chapter hit me while I
     was driving home from work (Is it car rides? Is that my trigger?) but
     it was all thanks to a review I read this morning that really
     inspired me to think about this story the whole day. So, thank you,
     Mila! And thanks to everyone who read this story so far and did not
     slam me for ruining an innocent Disney film about a boy and his robot
     haha.
     Cheers!
“Hiro, we need to talk.”
Hiro peered up through the bags in his eyes, confused for second at the
distorted shock of purple that filled his vision. Then he remembered to take
off his goggles.
“Not now, Go-Go—“
“Now.” She said with a snap of her gum.
Hiro put on his best bitch-face despite the cartwheels in his stomach. “This is
intensely delicate work and I can’t just get up and leave—“
“Alright, I’ll wait.” She leaned one hip against the metal desk of his
workspace, jutting out her jaw stubbornly.
Hiro tried to ignore her—which lasted about two seconds before he threw down
his goggles and stood up to face her with a defensive scowl.
“What?”
“Why didn’t you tell us you had a boyfriend?” Go-Go said bluntly.
Hiro paused. He hadn’t been expecting that.
“Where did you hear that from?”
“Baymax told us. Of all people.” Go-Go snapped her gum irritably. “I mean,
we’ve been giving you space because you’re obviously in the middle of some kind
of mid-life crisis—“
“Go-Go—“
“But it seems like we’ve given you too much space because now you think it’s
perfectly fine to hook up with random strangers and not tell us.”
Hiro raised a hand as if he could physically stop her from talking.
“First of all—he’s not my boyfriend.” He ignored her raised brow. “Second of
all, I’m not having a mid-life crisis—“
“Then what the hell is going on?” Go-Go looked so upset and Hiro was almost
sick with guilt. “Talk to us, Hiro. We hardly ever see you. You look like a
walking corpse. You won’t let us help you. Tadashi’s probably rolling in his
grave.”
Hiro flinched at the mention of his brother.
“M’sorry.” Hiro mumbled, eyes lowered. “I just… have a lot on my plate right
now.”
“We’re your friends.” Go-Go reminded him, her tone becoming gentler.
“Yeah, I know.”
A contemplative silence fell between them.
“…Is this about Baymax?”
And Hiro was not ready yet. He was still raw and hurting from the events that
happened the other day.
“What about him?” He forced himself to keep his face neutral. He only prayed
that his voice was not shaking. 
Go-Go regarded him in silence and Hiro had to hold on to every inch of his
willpower not to run away and hide from her gaze.
“Come out and have lunch with us.” Go-Go said instead, resting a gentle hand on
his shoulder. “No offense, but you need to eat.”
Hiro let out a breath.
“I’m not sure if I can right now—“
“Tomorrow, then.” Go-Go said determinedly. “Or I’ll sic Fred on you until your
ears bleed.”
“Please don’t threaten me.”
“See you tomorrow.” She replied pointedly, turning to leave.
And, despite everything, Hiro couldn’t help the helpless smile that bloomed on
his face.
“Hey, Go-Go?”
She glanced at him from the door.
“…thanks.”
 One thing needed to be set straight, though.
The door to his workspace slid open, but Hiro did not look up. He already knew
who it was. Hiro twirled the wrench in his hand as he contemplated what to do.
Tony was not his boyfriend.
Or, at least, not officially. Heck, what did he know of this boyfriend stuff?
Tony just went ahead and did things as he pleased. Sure, Hiro went along with
it, but—
“Hey.”
Hiro picked moodily at his project.
“Not now, Tony.”
“I brought you coffee.”
Okay, whatever the issue at hand, coffee was still coffee and Hiro gratefully
accepted the cup and held on to it like a lifeline.
“So, I visited the hospital today.” Tony said conversationally, leaping onto
the table to sit.
“Were your injuries serious?” Hiro turned to look at him more carefully, noting
the plaster on his elbow.
“Nah. Bruised some, but I’ll live.” Tony leaned in conspiratorially. “I joined
in Project Baymax.”
Hiro sat up abruptly and scowled. “Fuck off.”
“Language.” Tony tut-ted, looking amused. “Okay, so maybe I didn’t. But it
turns out I know the Med Tech in charge.”
“Dark hair?” Hiro said, skeptical. “Sort-of gloomy looking? Built like a
freight train?”
“That’s the one.” Tony agreed. “He told me to give you this.”
Hiro accepted the white envelope with the San Fransokyo seal. He eyed Tony
suspiciously.
“You’ve already read it, haven’t you?”
“Of course. Wanna hear the short version or the long one?”
“Unbelievable.” Hiro muttered, tearing open the envelope and scanning the
contents. His stomach lurched when he finally realized what he was reading.
Irregular behavior… Impairment of speech… Failure to complete tasks…
Momentarily lapse of cognitive function…
What the hell?
“In other words—moody, distracted and in no shape to work.” Tony peered over
his shoulder. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was moping.”
Hiro did not reply, re-reading the words on the paper, hardly believing what he
was seeing.
“Bruce was worried, you know. He likes Baymax. But he started showing unusual
behavioral patterns.”
“Like what?” Hiro forced himself to ask.
“He’d stare into space a lot. Or he’d get distracted in the middle of a task.
And then, apparently, he just up and left yesterday afternoon and disappeared.”
Hiro remembered with a sinking feeling in his stomach that Baymax had been home
unusually early yesterday. They did not speak much, but for the first time in
weeks, Hiro went to bed to the muted hum of Baymax’ processors.
“I’ll talk to him.” Hiro muttered, gripping the letter in his hand.
Tony regarded him.
“Want me to come over tonight?”
Tony was about to say ‘no,’ but somehow, the words didn’t make it out of his
mouth.
“…I’m doing a full-system scan of Baymax.” He muttered instead.
“I’ll bring pizza.”
 
===============================================================================
 
When Hiro got home around sunset, Baymax was already there. The questions were
at the tip of his tongue—did you skip work? Why do you rush back here every
evening? Is it true what they’re saying at the hospital?
But he forced himself to smile instead at Baymax’ greeting as he tossed his bag
to the floor. Immediately, Baymax picked it up and placed it neatly on his
desk, all the while chattering about Aunt Cass mentioning “Chicken Cass-erole”
for dinner.
“I’m gonna work on your upgrades tonight.” Hiro informed him as he brushed his
teeth, eyeing Baymax through the mirror in the bathroom. “I’ll do a system-scan
while we’re at it.”
He forgot to mention that Tony was coming, but… oh well. It’s not like Baymax
would care.
“Hi, guys.”
Wrong.
Hiro forced himself to accept the box of donuts as he let Tony into the garage.
Behind him, Baymax stood very still.  Normally, this was not a cause for
alarm—except Hiro could feel the heavy weight of his stare like a thick blanket
crackling with energy. 
“Hey, Baymax.” Tony greeted, seemingly unperturbed.
“Hello, Tony.” Baymax greeted slowly. “I was not expecting you.”
“Oh, I thought I’d keep Hiro company tonight. You know, hang out. Talk about
stuff.” Tony slung a casual arm around Hiro’s shoulder, ignoring the tenseness
there. “We’re getting to know each other really well.”
“I thought you were bringing pizza.” Hiro said through gritted teeth, moving
away from Tony’s arm with the excuse of setting the donuts down on the table.
“What do you take me for? I already called the delivery guy. Pepperoni, no
onions, right?”
Hiro was surprised.
“Right. How…?”
“What kind of a boyfriend would I be if I didn’t even know that?” Tony wagged a
finger, moving towards Baymax. “What have you done so far--?”
Baymax took two deliberate steps back, avoiding Tony’s reach.
“I am currently in the middle of a full-system upgrade.”
“No worries.” Tony was unfazed. “I’m in the robotics track too. I know what I’m
doing. I won’t break you, I promise.”
“Nevertheless.” Baymax replied curtly. “Please refrain from touching.”
The silence that fell between them sounded like nails on chalkboard to Hiro’s
ears.
“Tony.” He interrupted before the awkward silence could get any worse. “Where
are those thrusters you promised?”
Hiro almost regretted saying that at the sly grin that spread across Tony’s
face.
“Aw, Hiro. So eager. I thought I’d keep those until we were alone—“
“Tony.”
Hiro told himself that Baymax did not stiffen. Nope. He probably didn’t even
understand the innuendo.
“Yeah, yeah. They’re here.” Tony rummaged through his bag and tossed Hiro the
device. “Careful with those, they’re made from vibranium, which is like—“
“Extremely rare.” Hiro breathed, holding the device up to his face, inspecting
the shiny metal alloy with fascination. Instantly, his irritation and
discomfort disappeared in the face of pure science. “How did you get your hands
on these?”
“Stole it.” Tony joked, shuffling closer. “Nah. They were my old man’s. Took a
bit and fashioned them into these babies.”
“Are you sure you’re supposed to waste precious raw materials on some
prototype?” Hiro eyed him with a frown.
“Hey, if it works.” Tony shrugged. “I’ll give them to you.”
Hiro’s jaw dropped open, but he was warring with the gigantic grin threatening
to eat his face.
“Shut up.”
“One one condition!” Tony winked. “You give me something nice for my birthday.”
Hiro hesitated, glancing at him.
“When is your birthday?” He asked, wondering why he felt so awkward asking it.
“May 29.”
That was like, next week.
“I’m not good with presents.” Hiro replied, rubbing his neck. “What would you
like?” 
Tony’s smile softened.
“That’s my condition. Think about it, okay? Think about me. Let me take over
your every waking thought.”
Hiro couldn’t help the snicker that escaped him.
“Yeah, okay, Romeo.”
“My update has been completed.” Baymax suddenly spoke up, and Hiro almost
forgot that he was there.
“Oh, right, let’s move on to the system check—“
“Perhaps we might do it tomorrow.” Baymax commented, raising a hand as if to
stop him. “It is getting quite late and there is still the matter of school.”
“Gotta get up early for school.” Tony piped up behind him with a snicker.
Hiro was about to argue, when the doorbell rang. The pizza was here. So Hiro
went to handle that while Baymax cleaned up the workspace. Before Hiro knew it,
they were in his bedroom and Tony was giving him these looks. And Hiro may be
inexperienced but he wasn’t a rock. He was 16 and Tony smelled really nice,
and...
“Baymax.” Hiro cleared his throat, shifting on one foot. “I… am satisfied with
my care.”
Baymax paused, turning to him in surprise and oh god, Hiro couldn’t look at
him. He felt his ears burning.
“Hiro,” Baymax finally said. “May I speak to you in private?”
Hiro stared at him, a bit floored. That had never happened before. He glanced
helplessly at Tony, who was goggling at Baymax with a raised eyebrow.
“Fascinating.” Tony was murmuring to himself even as he jumped down from where
he was perched on the table. “I’ll uh, get myself something to drink.”
The door shut with a click that sounded more like a thunderclap.
“So… uh…”
“Are you about to engage in sexual intercourse with Tony?”
Whoa.
Hiro felt himself flush so fast, he felt light-headed.
“Er, it’s not what you think—“
“My scans tell me that you are both experiencing varying levels of arousal.
Factoring in other variables—late evening, bedroom, and the fact that Tony is
your… boyfriend… I have come to this conclusion. Is this not correct?”
Hiro wished he was better at lying, but Baymax was practically a walking lie-
detector.
“Maybe.” He whispered instead. “Look, we’re just experimenting. It’s not like
what you’re thinking.”
“Hiro, you are not within the age of consent.”
He flinched.
“This conversation is over.” Hiro muttered, unconsciously wrapping his arms
around himself. “I’m satisfied with my care.”
“If it is simply gratification, then I am perfectly happy to—“
“No.”
Hiro surprised himself at the steel in his tone. Baymax must have been as well,
because he paused for a bit.
“Am I not an acceptable partner?”
“Baymax, this discussion is over.” Hiro stressed, and damn it, he was starting
to shake.
“Tell me which part of me displeases you,” Baymax barreled on, undeterred. “And
I will fix it.”
“I am satisfied with my care!”
“It is clear that you are not, and that I have done something to displease
you.”
“It’s not like that.” Hiro hung his head, exhausted. “Baymax, please.”
“Hiro.” Baymax ventured slowly. “Are we not… friends?”
“We are,” Hiro whispered, fighting back tears.
“Then why would you prefer the company of a stranger over myself?” Baymax
sounded honestly confused.
“Because Tony’s my boyfriend.” Hiro blurted out, driven into a corner. “That’s…
that’s what boyfriends do.”
“And I cannot be it?”
It felt like being hit in the head. Hiro reeled with the words, vision blurring
with tears. He felt his breath shorten and no matter how much he breathed in,
it was never enough.
“Hiro.” Baymax’ tone became sharp. “What is wrong? Do not move, I will scan you
now—“
“Hiro!” Tony burst into the room.
Hiro felt his vision swim as he toppled over, his cheek scraping the floor. All
those sleepless nights and skipped meals were finally catching up to him.
But all Hiro could think about as he was lying in the spinning room, was that
he had forgotten to tip the pizza guy.
 
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