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tadashi-hamadahubba · 10 years

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Do something tadahoney pleasseeeee :(

((You know, I really like TadaHoney, and I’ve had this little drabble in mind for a while. I hope you like it! ))

“Alright. One more time Baymax, what d’you say?”

Tadashi Hamada is twenty years old, a top student at San Fransokyo Institute of Technology, and currently sleep deprived.

And really, he can’t be blamed. Working for twenty seven straight hours on a final robotics project would drive anyone to the brink, and the young man is no exception. He’s put weeks into this robot. Months. Years. He’d had the dream of Baymax since a six year old Hiro had come sobbing through Aunt Cass’ café door with a broken arm, and he hasn’t given it up since.

An in-home piece of tech that could deliver potentially life-saving treatment before paramedics could arrive? A robot that could help the injured in places too dangerous for civilian medics to go? His Baymax would revolutionize the world.

But the damn robot has to stop glitching, first.

“My sensors indicate that you are currently… distressed. Lack of sleep, and an increased hormone level indicating you are currently in a state of arousal and-“

“No, nonono-!”

Tadashi shuts off the diagnosis with a groan, scrubbing his face with a hand. It had been almost right that time, but he has to work on the scanning depth. Baymax could recognize blood types, organ failures, certain diseases, and a myriad of other useful items in a quick, three second scan. But some things are really better left unknown.

Disconnecting the USB cable with a practiced pull and wind about the fingers, Tadashi digs his heels into the linoleum and propels his way across the lab floor to his desktop, to begin revising the code. If he could figure out some sort of… subtlety to the programming. A way to allow Baymax to communicate all ailments without being so… embarrassing. Privacy settings. Not enough to hinder medical aid. Just enough to protect the patient.

“…dammit.”

The honor roll student’s head thunks down beside his keyboard. He can write codes in his sleep. Sketch out dozens of robotic prototypes in under an hour. But the delicacy of medical information? That stumps him, and stumps him hard.

When your robot knows everything, how do you keep it from telling everyone else?

“Tadashi. I believe you are suffering from high levels of stress. Treatments include-“

“Thank you, Baymax!” Tadashi’s response is harsher than he would like. His robot is only looking out for him, after all. But right now he doesn’t need robotics. He needs food. Caffeine. Possibly sleep, but that’s really negotiable at this point and-

“Tadashiiii~!”

Oh, no.

Tadashi’s head snaps up so fast he’s sure he’ll have a pulled muscle in the morning, and he whips his chair around to face the frosted glass windows of his lab, and the coded door beside them.

She can’t be here. Not now. Not while Baymax is like this. Not while he is like this. For half a second he considers pretending that he’s called it a night and headed home, but the overhead lights in his personal lab give him away- she knows he’s here.

“Tadashi, you need to come out eventually! A ten minute break won’t kill you. And I picked up pork buns!”

Despite his panic, the twenty year old college student can’t help but smile. Of course she picked up his favorite, in the middle of the night, during finals week, when everyone was in a panic. That’s just the kind of girl she was.

Caring. Kind. Considerate. Before he can think about it, Tadashi is swiping his baseball cap from the top of his lamp, jamming it over his unruly, cow-licked hair, wishing he’d shaved and inviting the girl into his workspace with a sheepish greeting and a lopsided, shy smile.

“Hey, Honey Lemon. I thought you’d headed home for the night.”

The model-esque chemist shoots him a shy, yet chipper smile of her own and sets a plastic bag down on a clear space of work table. The smells that emanate from it are to die for.

“Oh, well, inspiration struck! You know how it is- one minute you’re walking home and the next you’re calibrating the possibilities of a condensed thermonuclear reaction that could become a power source for an entire city and you just need to write up the hypothesis before you lose it and one thing leads to another while you’re picking up Chinese and-“

The strawberry blonde’s mouth shuts with an audible click as a rosy hue invades her cheeks, and Tadashi can’t help his chuckle.

“Got a new theory for your stuffy old professor, then?”

It’s no secret that Honey Lemon’s chemistry professor is a harsher critique than the tough Callaghan in robotics, and the girl tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, the other arm wrapped tight around her stylish, yellow suede pea coat.

“W-well, he might like it more than destabilizing tungsten carbide.”

Tadashi scoffs and stands from his chair, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his skinnies and offering a comforting smile.

“No matter what you do, you’re gonna blow him away. You’ve got this.” He ignores the funny little skip his heart makes when Honey gives him a grateful smile in return.

"Here’s hoping! I should better… maybe probably start on it, you know? And it’s late and you’re working so I’ll… let you get to it! We’ll definitely talk later, and if you need anything I- Heep-!”

Tadashi had been positive that he’d cleaned up his workspace, but there it was- a torque wrench lying in just the right spot to catch the platform of one of Honey Lemon’s ridiculous platform heels as she backed towards the doorway.

He jerks forward with hands outstretched to catch the tall girl as she pinwheels backwards, but a vinyl arm catches her first.

“You have fallen. I will scan you now for injuries.”

Tadashi blanches. “Baymax, no, you don’t have to-“

“My sensors indicate that you are currently experiencing high levels of dopamine, oxytocin, vasopressin, and adrenaline. These chemicals are signs of acute attraction and, unscientifically speaking, ‘love’. You may experience euphoric like emotions, stress, and arousal. Treatments would include copulation, other forms of physical contact, and emotional communication.”

Tadashi isn’t sure if he should kill himself now, or wait until Honey Lemon requests he jump off the nearest bridge. Given the rigid posture of her body and the impossibly red coloring to her face, he figures he won’t need to wait too long for the latter.

“… Tadashi?”

He decides to be a man, swallows harshly, and meets those beautiful, hazel green eyes.

“Um. Yeah?”

“I hate your robot.”

He shouldn’t laugh. He really shouldn’t. The college boy settles for a faltering, disbelieving grin that belies his thumping heart.

“You know… I did too, five minutes ago. He’s sorta grown on me now.”

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