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When Hiro and Tadashi’s parents died, the holidays were rough. That’s why every year at Christmas, the Hamada’s packed their bags and headed for the nearest ski resort. And it worked! With hot drinks, boarding competitions, and real, authentic snow, a Hamada Family tradition was born.
This year should have been no different.
Except that it was.
Stupid Tadashi.
He’d just had to go on a research trip at the exact time they usually went to the mountains. Hiro could have been leaning back in a hot tub, watching the snow drift down around him, but no. Instead, he was stuck holed up in his room, with rain pattering on the windows, completely and utterly alone.
Except for Aunt Cass, that was. She tried her best to make Hiro feel better about Tadashi being away. So far, they’d gone to admire the Christmas decorations in the rich neighborhoods twice. They’d made three ginger bread houses (the first one they ate before the house parts had even cooled, the second they’d left to burn in the oven while they watched movies), decorated two Christmas trees (one in the café, one in the living room), and watched Love Actually one time too many. But Hiro was unmoved.
“Don’t worry, sweetie, it just means we can get more presents this year! Everybody loves presents,” she said.
Hiro didn’t want more presents. He didn’t even necessarily want to go to the ski resort. He just didn’t want to feel so goddamn alone.
“Sure, Aunt Cass,” he said, with a slump of his shoulders. He turned away from her and went back to tapping on his keyboard. He didn’t even have any inspiration to work on a new bot – all he could do was browse through posts on the Gurren Lagann forums and sigh at how wrong everyone’s theories were.
There was the blink of a new message in the corner of his screen, and Hiro clicked it. A video message loaded, and then Hiro saw the smiling faces of Gogo, Honey, Wasabi and Tadashi.
With no warning aside from a very quiet ‘one, two, three’ from Wasabi, they group broke into song.
“I’ll be home for Christmas,” they sang. Gogo murmured, “Or Hannukah.”
Hiro grinned widely and let out a bark of laughter. “Are you serious?” He said to himself.
Tadashi looked sheepish in the video, his deep voice loud underneath the others singing. When they were done, everyone gave a small shout out to their families, and finally all four of them chimed, “Merry Christmas Hiro!”
Tadashi said, “Don’t have too much fun without me.”
Hiro said, “As if I could.” He imagined Tadashi could hear him, but the video stopped and started to replay in the middle of him saying it.
Hiro watched as the cab pulled up between the parked cars. His breath fogged the glass; his hands left oily palm prints against the window. The back seat door of the cab popped open and out stepped Tadashi, laughing slightly. He moved to the trunk and retrieved his suit case, waved back at the driver, and disappeared from view. A moment later, the jingle of the café door opening broke the early morning silence.
Hiro quickly leapt from his perch in front of the window and slid into his computer chair. He clicked on the monitor and began scrolling through whatever page he’d left up. Downstairs, he could hear Tadashi tip toeing through the house, trying not to wake Aunt Cass. He carried his suitcase up the stairwells with a dull thump every so often.
Tadashi crept through the open bedroom door and stopped suddenly.
“What are you doing awake? It’s 4 AM!”
Hiro looked up from the computer. “Oh, hey, uhh,” he snapped his fingers a few times, scrunching his face up. “Oh! Tadashi, right. Hey.”
Tadashi rolled his eyes. “Uh-huh. Waiting up for me still? What are you, 7?”
“And a half,” Hiro corrected. He swivelled in his chair and grinned at Tadashi, who ruffled his hair.
Tadashi threw himself down on Hiro’s bed and buried his face into his pillow. Hiro wanted to ask him about every detail of his trip, but was interrupted by the sound of his brother snoring.
Hiro bundled a pile of wreaths in his arms, each one with their own individuality; Aunt Cass had told him one represented him, one Tadashi, Mochi, and so on. Their scratchy wire frames and plastic needles rubbed against his neck and chin, and he huffed, wanting nothing more than to get them hung and over with. Aunt Cass had gone all out this Christmas. More so in the café than upstairs, but it was a lot of work and festiveness regardless. Was it really necessary to hang mistletoe in every doorway? What did she expect her customers to do, kiss strangers? Yes. He supposed she did. In the spirt of the holidays, or some bullshit. Just because it was Christmas didn’t mean people would suddenly want to pucker up to Mrs Matsuda and her ridiculous sexy-Santa outfits.
He kicked at the door of the café until it opened. For a second, he thought his annoyance with the situation and his inability to use his arms had magically opened the door for him, but by the deep “Woah!” that followed, he knew it was just Tadashi. He couldn’t help but be a little disappointed that his genius brain hadn’t evolved telekinesis.
He glared over the stack of wreaths at Tadashi, who stood back slightly to chuckle at him. His leg itched to start kicking again. Tadashi said, “You could have asked for a hand, you know.”
He moved forward to take some of the burden, but stopped, eyes drifting upward. Hiro followed his gaze, and made a face. Mistletoe. Before he had time to react, wreaths were exploding out of his arms as Tadashi swooped down to squeeze him around the middle. Hiro felt his legs lift off the ground, and then a horrible, disgustingly wet kiss was planted on his cheek. Tadashi pulled back with a loud smack and shook Hiro around a bit more before setting him down.
His arm immediately shot up to wipe at his face with the sleeve of his hoodie. “Augh, disgusting!” he spat, his gap-teeth exposed in a grimace.
Tadashi laughed as he knelt down to pick up the fallen wreaths, popping back up with a, “Christmas is a time of love and giving, Hiro, and that was my gift to you.” He looked so smug and proud of himself that Hiro wanted to punch him. So he did.
“Haw, haw, haw,” he said sarcastically, retracting his fist and revelling in the way Tadashi grabbed his arm.
Despite the little ouch Tadashi gave out, he laughed. “Don’t you mean ‘ho, ho, ho’?”
“Wow,” Hiro said. He lifted the remaining wreaths into his arms and headed out of the café to hang them around the patio.
He cheeks felt warm, and he was pretty sure it wasn’t from the cold. He tucked his chin close to his chest and squeezed his eyes shut before glancing sideways at Tadashi, who hung wreaths on the inside of the storefront window.
Don’t be stupid, he told himself. It’s freezing out, that’s all.
But his heart was hammering and his legs felt weak, and once he’d finished decorating he escaped upstairs without looking back at Tadashi once.
Hiro, boy genius, knew the best solution to figuring something out (be it robotics, programming, or feelings) was through experimentation. That was how he came up with his plan. It was simple – it was foolproof! He’d pull the same stunt Tadashi had pulled on him under the mistletoe, and if his body reacted the same way, well. Then there was a problem.
But it’d be stupider to worry over the potential of a problem instead of finding out if there was one at all.
He hung around downstairs more often than usual. His excuse was half-conceived, but believable none the less. Every 14 year old wants to spend more time with their family, right? It worked on Aunt Cass, anyway. She smile tenderly, almost-teary, as Hiro sat with Mochi on his lap and helped her wrap presents. Until, of course, he heard Tadashi stomping up the stairs and threw Mochi off of him, jumped up and raced toward the doorway.
His first attempt was a failure. The combination cat-toss and wrapping paper littered floor ended in a face plant directly into the Christmas tree. Tadashi rushed toward him, Aunt Cass dove to catch the tree, and Mochi took his chance to curl up on top of the pile of wrapping paper they’d been using.
Hiro, when freed from the branches of the tree, was hot with embarrassment and shame. He scratched the back of his calf with his foot, laughing uncomfortably as the two simultaneously doted on him and scolded him.
“I’m fine!” he said, putting his hands up in protest. Tadashi loomed over him with his usual big-brotherly disapproval. The closeness made Hiro gulp.
“Knuckle-head,” he scoffed, swatting the younger Hamada.
“Maybe I should just – uh – okay,” Hiro said, gesturing to the staircase. He slunk away up the steps, hearing the voices of his family wondering all too loudly what was wrong with him.
He sat at the foot of his bed, flicked his hood over his hair, and pulled the strings of his hoodie until his face was mostly covered by the fabric, only his nose and smushed-up mouth showing.
“Aaargh!” He half-shouted, half-whispered, falling onto his back. What was wrong with him? It wasn’t so much he was upset about falling; it was more the fact that he’d almost just raced to his big brother to kiss him in front of their aunt! On the cheek, sure, but still! For a kid with so much brains, Hiro could sure be an idiot.
He needed to be more subtle. Get Tadashi alone. He could hang mistletoe on their bedroom door. The thought of it made his stomach twist into knots. No, too obvious.
He plucked a pine needle from his bangs and rolled over, thinking. Plotting.
The next morning, Aunt Cass announced she was going Christmas shopping. Here was the opportunity Hiro had needed.
“You sure you don’t wanna come, Hiro? I could use your big manly strength,” she said, stuffing canvas bags into her purse to use later.
“Nah, I’m okay,” he said. “I wouldn’t wanna scare anyone with my manliness, anyway.”
“Suit yourself, kiddo. Maybe I’ll get some shopping done for you too,” she said, sounding excited at the prospect now. Hiro nodded with mock-encouragement, ushering her out of the door.
He waited in the kitchen for Tadashi to wake up. For the responsible older brother, he sure did sleep in late. In all his eagerness, Hiro wanted to jump on his bed, rip the covers off of him. It was like Christmas morning a week early. He had to stop and remind himself that this was a test, he shouldn’t feel excited about forcing a kiss on his brother – it was all in the name of science. Then, he had to shoo away the thought that he already knew the results. He didn’t. He didn’t, he didn’t, he didn’t.
He threw some bread in the toaster and stared at his reflection in its polished chrome siding. His teeth were unbrushed, his hair stuck up wildly, he was developing a small white-topped pimple beside his nostril. Puberty was rough. For the first time in a while, he felt self-conscious about his looks. He would have gone to do something about it, had he not heard the morning shuffle of Tadashi getting out of bed.
He rushed to the living room, and hovered just behind the doorway until he saw Tadashi rounding the corner of the stairs. Then, he pretended he was innocently sauntering into the kitchen to fetch his toast. Tadashi, in all his groggy, sleepy glory, nearly slammed right into him.
This was it.
Hiro gulped, glancing at the mistletoe above them, guilt balling in his stomach, nerves making his heart pound. No, it was an experiment. Science! When did he ever feel nervous over science? He reached up and grabbed Tadashi by the shoulders, dragging him down to his level, and planted a kiss on his cheek just as sloppily as Tadashi had a few days ago. His skin was rough with stubble. Mid-kiss, his fear caught up with him, and he quickly puffed out his cheeks and blew against Tadashi’s skin until the air leaked out from between them and gave a loud raspberry.
Tadashi sputtered out gruff, confused ew’s and retracted away from his brother, rubbing his cheek. He dragged the collar of his sleep shirt up to wipe off the immense amount of spit Hiro had left, the hem of it raising up his stomach and revealing soft abs with gentle hairs trailing from his bellybutton downwards.
Hiro’s head spun. He felt the same faintness as before, the same weakening of his knees, the same rising warmth to his cheeks. He forced laughter out of himself as he squeezed past Tadashi into the kitchen, where he buttered his toast with shaky hands.
Tadashi watched faux-angrily from the doorway. He muttered, “I’ll get you back.”
Feeling a little better after putting distance between them, Hiro grinned, “Give it your best shot.”
Tadashi pursed his lips and tried to look annoyed, but could not hide his amused smirk. Standing up straight, bouncing a little with determination, he said in his low, still-sleepy voice, “Oh, I will!”
Hiro rolled his eyes. “Poor Tadashi, always in his baby brothers shadow!”
Tadashi headed toward him, and Hiro backed away grinning. The older Hamada raised his arms menacingly, and both knew what was coming. Hiro tried to weasel away under an arm, but had no luck. Tadashi dug his fingers into his ribs, his armpits, under his neck, anywhere he could find, and all Hiro could do was writhe around and laugh. His attack was gentle, but with just the right amount of pressure to send Hiro into a laughing spasm.
“Stop it, stop!” He wheezed, clutching the corners of the counter for support. He popped an eye open as Tadashi slowed, and saw anxious, dilated eyes looking back at him. For a second, neither spoke.
Tadashi shuffled backward and jabbed a hand into Hiro’s mess of hair, making it even wilder. The fleeting second of nervousness he saw in his older brother vanished so quickly he was unsure if he’d ever seen it. Tadashi grabbed Hiro’s toast from the counter and bit into it, grinning as he left the kitchen.
It was a few days before Christmas when Aunt Cass announced she needed Tadashi and Hiro to watch the café for her. She had to leave early for some Christmas Cocktail party, with the girls or something that Hiro couldn’t care less about.
All Hiro cared about was having time to exercise his independence. Of course, this meant calling Fred’s cell and inviting him and the others over to watch embarrassingly bad Christmas movies.
“Woah, hold on there,” Tadashi said, overhearing Hiro on the phone.
He swiped the cellphone out of his brothers hands and put it up to his ear. “Hey!” Hiro protested, but Tadashi pressed his wide palm against Hiro’s face and pushed him away. He was giving clear instructions about how the gang couldn’t come over until after the café was closed. He hung up and tucked Hiro’s phone into his pocket, giving Hiro The Look.
Hiro rolled his eyes, making to walk away.
“Nuh-uh,” Tadashi said, grabbing Hiro by the hood. “I need you to wipe down some tables.”
“Auugh, Tadashi! Cleaning tables is a waste of all my potential! I didn’t work hard to graduate early just to end up wiping tables,” Hiro said.
“You didn’t work hard at all, doofus. Try to imagine you’re a nice, normal teen for a second, and do your job.”
As Hiro groaned, grabbed a cloth and headed toward the empty tables, Tadashi said, “Wait!” and dropped an apron over his head. Hiro looked down disgustedly at the smock that mirrored the one Tadashi wore. On the pocket there was a little cartoon of a cat. His cold, uncaring older brother had to turn away with a hand over his mouth to stop himself from laughing hysterically.
It was an exhausting two hours of making cocoas for fashionable Sanfransokyo young people and cleaning up after their messes.
As the last few customers filtered out, Wasabi’s boxy van pulled up in front of the café and he, Gogo, Honey, and Fred piled out. Wasabi paused to click the lock button twice for good measure, and make sure he wasn’t too far from the curb. Hiro watched with a tugged grin on his cheeks.
Honey bounded into the café, her eyes immediately falling on Hiro and his apron. She squeezed her spindly arms around him.
“Hiro! You look so professional,” she said. “Hold still!” She took out her phone and snapped a picture of him.
“Kill me,” Hiro said to Tadashi once she’d flounced off to be distracted with something else.
Tadashi chuckled, “Go on upstairs, guys. Me and Hiro need to lock up.”
The gang filtered up into the house, and Hiro could hear Fred cheering as he opened their cupboards and found their stash of potato chips. He laughed exasperatedly and turned to flip the open sign in the cafe door over.
When he spun around again, ready to throw off his apron and head upstairs, he was met with Tadashi’s face colliding into his. His lips landed on the corner of open Hiro’s mouth, and when he pulled away he looked sheepish and awkward, like he’d missed target and gone somewhere he really shouldn’t have. He gulped, pointed upward and said “Mistletoe”, then turned around and rushed upstairs two steps at a time.
Hiro was left wide eyed and elated.
It was wrong. It was so wrong!
Hiro felt sick to his stomach. He’d excused himself on the pretence of going to the vending machine down the street, but stood shivering in the yellow glow from the street light way longer than he had a reason to. He raised his pop to his mouth and hated how cold it was.
There was no easy way to say it, but Hiro couldn’t keep ignoring his feelings for any longer. He liked his older brother. Like, like like’d him. Oh, god, it was wrong on so many levels.
He tugged his toque down over his ears and screwed up his eyes watching his breath unfurl before him in white puffs. It was freezing, but it was better than being hot and uncomfortable around Tadashi. He tried desperately to stay level headed over it, but his E.Q. (a term he’d picked up from Fred for his ‘Emotional Intelligence’) was overpowering his I.Q. Who was he kidding, anyway? How could anyone be rational about… Incest. Jesus.This went way beyond anything they’d taught him in sex-ed class.
What was he supposed to do? Who could he talk to about it? Even the thought of bringing it up to Honey Lemon scared him. He pictured her big doe-eyes filling with disgust. There it was again, the feeling in his stomach. Guilt and shame and repulsion, all mixed into one. He only handled it by telling himself it was better than goddamn butterflies.
He slumped his weight against the dirty side of the vending machine, closing his eyes. He peeled them open again when he heard footsteps tromping up the street toward him.
Of course, it was Tadashi. Fate, God, Luck, whatever it was… it really had a hurt-on for him. Couldn’t it have been some nice, pretty girl, come to make Hiro into the normal kid he was supposed to be?
“Hey, bonehead,” Tadashi said, tugging his jacket tighter around him. “Having fun making Aunt Cass almost have another panic attack?”
That didn’t make Hiro feel any better. He glared and said defensively, “I’m fourteen, when’s she going to stop treating me like a kid? I’m fine!”
Tadashi shook his head, saying sarcastically, “Fourteen! What are you doing out here, providing for your wife and child?”
“Knock it off!”
Tadashi grabbed the corners of Hiro’s toque and pulled it all the way down, until he was covered from the mouth up. Hiro frowned, swatting at Tadashi, trying his best to ignore the muffled laughter he heard through the wool.
“C’mon,” the older Hamada said, throwing his arm around Hiro’s shoulders and steering him in the direction of home. Hiro arranged his hat grumpily until it was proper again, but by that time they were at the café and Aunt Cass had her arms around him.
“I was gone for like, five minutes,” Hiro groaned into her shoulder. He caught Tadashi’s eye and watched him chuckle.
“Half. An. Hour!” Cass said, giving him a little shake with each word. “What were you thinking?”
Hiro shrugged as nonchalantly as he could. “I was just getting some air.”
“Yeah, well, it’s the last air you’ll be having if you pull another stunt like that!”
“You’re gunna kill me?” He tried not to look as amused as he was by her choice of words.
She blinked. “Wha – no! I’m going to ground you! You know what? If I weren’t so thankful you’re alive, I’d ground you right now!”
“Alright, alright, I’m sorry!” He said, squeezing his arms around her. The last thing he wanted was to be grounded; then he’d have no way to escape Tadashi. Even just being in the room with him made his chest feel tight.
Christmas morning came with as much excitement and shouting as any year. Hiro woke early, jumped down the stairs loud enough to wake Tadashi and Aunt Cass, and slid into the living room. He usually went through his entire stocking before the other two managed to get there.
“Sick!” He said, examining a new USB stick with a tiny Baymax head on the end of it. Tadashi must have made it just for him. He tried to gulp down the fluttery feeling in his chest at the thought.
Tadashi flumped onto the couch and rubbed his eyes, but his smile was nearly as wide as Hiro’s. “You like it?” He asked.
Hiro exclaimed, “Hell yeah!”
As if on cue, Aunt Cass shuffled into the room excitedly, saying, “Do I hear swearing? Ooo, that means it’s gunna be good!”
She resumed her position as ‘Santa’. Every year it was the same thing. She handed out each present with jolly ho-ho-ho’s and watched her boys’ faces light up when they unwrapped them. Most of the time she forgot to open her own presents until Hiro and Tadashi had opened all of theirs. Tadashi always had to stop and remind them to let her have a turn. If he didn’t, Hiro would plow through the gifts without caring about what anyone else got.
They finished dumping out their stockings, which were filled with the usual things. Socks, soap, knick-knacks and candy.
Aunt Cass handed Hiro and Tadashi nearly identical gifts, and said to open them at the same time. She cackled when she saw their faces. Hiro lifted a red onsie from the box with a look of horror. He turned to see Tadashi holding a larger one in blue. Aunt Cass wiggled in her seat and opened her own box, which had a penguin-covered black onsie to match theirs.
“Go put them on!” She insisted. When they groaned, changed, and returned, she stuck the red bows from on top of the boxes into their bed-head.
Hiro made a face, but laughed loudly when he saw Tadashi. The bow really made the whole outfit. The older Hamada glared, his cheeks mildly pink. “Shut up,” he said with a laugh, pushing Hiro.
Every year the Hamada family had a noisy three-person Christmas dinner. They’d eat in their pajamas, belch, yell, fight, everything that was required for a good family meal. What little relatives they had lived too far away to bother visiting. Tadashi remembered Christmas Dinner when their parents, Aunt Cass and whatever boyfriend she’d had at the time, even their grandparents all squeezed around the table. He only told Hiro about it when asked. Tadashi was like that. No problem ripping duct tape off Hiro’s arm, but forever sheltering him from ever feeling left out or upset.
This year, they’d been invited to one of Fred’s family’s extravagant Christmas parties.
In the car, Hiro tugged at the too-tight collar of his shirt. He tried loosening his tie, with no results, and decided simply that he must have grown since the last time he’d worn it. Despite the swell of pride he felt, he was still annoyed with it, and settled on undoing the top button the moment they stepped out of the car.
Tadashi said, “I told you, you could have borrowed one of mine.”
“I don’t think I can pull off the shirt-down-to-my-knees look as well as Fred does.”
“You have grown. I would suggest purchasing a new one,” Baymax chimed. Fred had asked them to bring the nurse-bot along, regaling stories of how one year, his Great Aunt Mildred got so drunk she was literally tripping over herself. Most notably down the stairs, and they’d had to call the ambulance.
“Bit late for that, buddy,” Hiro said.
Hiro didn’t know how they could make Christmas lights look so classy. He was used to flashing rainbow strings of them wrapped haphazardly around bonsai trees, but this was something else. They were tucked into the hedges so perfectly that they looked like they grew there, and as they got closer to the house, Hiro could see red and white candle’s flickering on the corner of every step. The elegance was only disturbed by Heathcliff, standing beside the open door to greet them, wearing antlers on his head and a light-up red nose.
“Lookin’ good, Heathcliff,” Tadashi said, clapping him on the shoulder as he passed.
“Master Fred thinks so,” Heathcliff agreed.
Hiro said, “Like Rudolph guiding our way to the party.”
Aunt Cass was visibly restraining herself from booping him on the nose.
Inside, the grand, empty house they were used to was alive with people, voices and light. A trio of women in matching gold dresses stood elevated on a little stage, harmonizing just loud enough that you could hear them over the chatter.
Aunt Cass spotted a table with a chocolate fountain and a handsome fellow pouring champagne into the guests’ glasses. She hurried into the fray of people to grab herself one.
Hiro fiddled with his skinny black tie until Tadashi smacked him on the arm. He wasn’t exactly used to being in a crowd this size. When he went to visit Tadashi’s campus, it still wasn’t nearly this packed together. The amount of people wasn’t what made him feel nervous; he just didn’t really know what he was supposed to do. Tadashi and him stood near the wall, trying to find a familiar face, one of the gang perhaps, but they knew almost everyone should have been busy with their families at home. Honey had gone up to Mexico to visit family, Wasabi was probably restraining his six younger siblings at home, and Gogo was so reserved that Hiro had no idea what her home life was even like.
On top of that, he and Tadashi hadn’t said a word to each other in over five minutes. Baymax got a few excited stares as people passed, but aside from his occasional “Hello! I am Baymax”, he was well behaved. Hiro wished Fred would turn up soon to break the heavy tension in the air between them.
But it wasn’t Fred’s hand that landed on his shoulder then. Gogo appeared beside them, raising her eyebrows when she noticed they weren’t talking. She had on an expensive looking wine-coloured suit, fitted at the waist and cropped at the ankles.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hey,” Hiro said, trying not to sound so relieved.
“Hello Gogo,” Baymax said.
Tadashi inched closer so Gogo could hear him over the noise, brushing Hiro’s arm and sending a jolt of shivers up the back of his neck. If Baymax noticed, there was no indication. Tadashi said, “Not having Christmas dinner at home?”
“I’m Jewish. Hanukkah ended yesterday,” she said.
Hiro scrunched up his eyebrows. “You’re… Jewish-Korean?”
Gogo’s deadpan expression remained unchanged. She said, “What about it?”
“Nothing!” Hiro put his hands up defensively.
“Have you seen Fred?” Tadashi asked, stifling a chuckle.
Gogo scanned the crowd. Her gaze locked onto one of the buffet tables near the end of the room, where Fred could be seen piling food onto one of his plates. Cold cuts, mostly. She put a petite hand to her mouth and shouted, “FRED!”
Fred’s head shot up and whipped around. He spotted them, gave an enthusiastic wave, piled a few more pieces of ham onto his plate and weaved his way toward them.
“Heeeeeey,” he said. He stuffed a roll of meat into his mouth and grinned, letting them all see the small peppercorns that stuck in his teeth. “You guys made it! And the Baymeister, too!” He jabbed a finger into Baymax’s stomach. The robot placed a hand on his front protectively.
“Who is the Baymeister?”
“That’s you, man!” Fred said. He offered his plate toward Hiro, “You want some?”
Hiro popped a cheese square into his mouth.
“Remember, Hiro,” Baymax said. “You are allergic to peanuts.”
“Gee, I almost forgot!”Hiro said with full cheeks, “How did I survive for 14 years without you?”
Gogo said, “I’m gunna get some drinks for those of us who can.” She slapped Hiro heartily on the back, sending him toppling into his brother, hands clutching onto his sleeve for support. Immediately, he flung himself away. He tried to look composed, but wasn’t sure how well it came off.
“Hiro, Tadashi, are you alright? You heart rates have increased and your temperatures are elevated.”
“Fine! I’m fine!” Hiro nearly shouted.
“Feeling great actually!” Tadashi stammered.
Fred gave them a knowing look that terrified Hiro. He nodded his head.
“I see you two aren’t immune to the charm of Gogo, either,” he said, watching her tromping through the crowd toward the bar. “She’s the kind of woman I’d want to rescue me from a dragon-guarded tower.”
Hiro pursed his lips and furrowed his brows but gave a little relieved laugh when he understood. Tadashi gave a full bellied chuckle.
“Wouldn’t you want to be trapped with a dragon?” He said.
Fred put a hand to his chin. “You’re right.”
Hiro spent the rest of the night avoiding eye contact with his brother, and silently wondering over why Tadashi’s heart rate had increased along with his. The thought horrified and excited him.
It was passed ten when they Hamada family stumbled sleepily out of the car. Tadashi drove, given the state Aunt Cass was in when they found her near the end of the party. They shuffled upstairs, Aunt Cass mumbling ‘Merry Christmas’ to her boys before disappearing into her bedroom. Hiro flumped onto the couch and picked up one of his new books.
Tadashi lingered by the stairwell to their room. His fingers tugged on the bottom of his suit jacket. “Hey, nerd,” he said, motioning with his chin upstairs. “There’s one more present for you.”
Hiro jumped up, his book falling to the floor with a thwump. “Sick!”
He followed Tadashi upstairs, talking the whole time. “Is it an Oculus rift? Oh, is it snowboarding on the oculus rift?”
“How much money do you think I have?”
“You could make one. Okay, then is it –“
Tadashi steered him by the shoulders into his computer chair. He paced a minute, not looking at him. Hiro raised an eyebrow.
“If you’re trying to freak me out, it’s working,” he said.
Tadashi stopped in front of him. Hiro was about to give another sarcastic comment when Tadashi bent down, his hands gripping the youngers cheeks, his wet lips touching Hiro’s dry ones. Hiro closed his eyes instinctively, and didn’t open them even when Tadashi pulled away, his breathing coming out in shudders.
Tadashi sat down on Hiro’s bed heavily. When Hiro finally blinked his eyes open, he saw his brother looking more nervous than Hiro’d ever seen him. Tadashi said, his voice breaking slightly, “Was that okay?”
Hiro gulped and said breathlessly, “Yeah.”
Tadashi’s eyes widened and the corners of his mouth twitched upward. He stammered, “Cool.”
“Cool.”
Hiro couldn’t believe what was happening. They stared for a moment at each other, not saying anything. Then, he scooted his chair forward and leaned to kiss Tadashi again. His heart was in his throat, but he might as well give in to his desires.
Hiro broke their kiss briefly to say, “Merry Christmas, Tadashi.”
“Merry Christmas, Bonehead.”