On the eve of his eighteenth birthday, Hiro Hamada took a cab back to the Lucky Cat Cafe, sleeping in his old bed once again, eating hot wings once again, letting Aunt Cass fuss over him just like old times. The past four years had netted him a doctorate—the first of three, he planned—and an additional foot in height, but otherwise, not much had changed.

Sure, he occasionally saved the city from the Everwraith or had a team-up with Sunfire, but he didn't feel much different from the fourteen-year-old boy he'd been those first few months after Tadashi's death. He was confident, but he'd always been confident. He'd go for hours at a time not thinking about it, but then it was like he'd brushed a bruised arm against something. He'd think gone.

"Hiro?" Honey Lemon called up the stairs, prompting Hiro to sit up in his bed. He still wore yesterday's clothes; when Honey came up, she found him sitting on the edge of the bed, his rumpled jeans and wrinkled shirt screaming that they'd been slept in. "Oh, hey Hiro. Happy birthday!"

"Thanks." He gave his neck a crack. "Guess you heard about Aunt Cass's famous birthday boy feasts?"

"Oh? No, I'm not here for any amount of bacon. Vegetarian." Grabbing the sliding door, which Hiro had left cracked last night for ventilation, she shifted it back and forth. "May I come in?"

"Sure. Mi casa es su casa."

Honey smiled at his knowledge of Spanish, one of the four languages he'd picked up his years at college. She came in, tip-toeing around like a giraffe on roller skates before seeing his room wasn't the pigsty she was used to from college boys. Then, confidently and smoothly, she bristled her way to sit down on the bed with him.

"So. Birthday selfie?" she asked, drawing out her phone.

Hiro knew there was no fighting her on this. He batted at his bedhead, trying to get it slightly presentable, then rubbed some crud from his eyes. "Why not?"

She pulled close to him, her warm cheek pressing into his light stubble. Even with his growth spurt, she still had a few inches on him. He felt her chin against his jaw when it jogged with her smile. He gave the camera a slightly weary grin and let himself be blinded by the flash. Honey typed out a quick caption before Instagramming it, then the phone disappeared into her purse once more.

"Eighteen!" Honey enthused. "Four years. It's crazy we've known each other so long. I mean, I know everything about you!"

"Not everything..."

"Oh, enough," she reiterated, pursing her lips and nestling her bird-like arms down into her lap, clearly sitting on several examples she had learned would be too awkward to share. Hiro conceded the point with a slight nod. She'd been there the first time he'd gotten drunk, babysitting him with Baymax until he'd gone through several rounds of recreational vomiting. "So, what're your B-day plans? Anything exciting!?"

"Nah. I think just a quiet day with Aunt Cass and Mochi. And you guys of course. Watch some movies, pack down some grub, maybe do a little work if the insomnia bug strikes again. Nothing major."

"Hiro, you're eighteen! You can drink! Buy a fish! Vote!"

"I couldn't buy a fish before?" Hiro wondered.

Honey shot up, twisting to the side. With her platform heels she towered over him, but her golden hair was so long that its ends fell down right into his line of sight. He watched it catch the light for a moment before meeting her eyes, even bigger behind the lens of her overwhelming glasses.

"Hiro, don't take this the wrong way, but I've noticed—you don't have much of a social life."

"I'm inventing robots! And saving the city! I mean, it's not like Fred or Wasabi get out much either."

Honey's lips quirked. Yes, Hiro could hear her thoughts, hold them up as sterling examples of the well-adjusted. "I... invent things and do Avengers stuff too. I'm still social!"

"I'm not sure having a hundred thousand Facebook friends counts."

"Instagram, Hiro. Only my grandma uses Facebook." Her long legs teetering again, Honey threw herself back down next to Hiro. "Be honest, Hiro. Do you have many friends who don't fight crime with you?"

"Of course I do!"

"And who aren't robots?"

Hiro's eyebrows shot up. "You don't like robots now?"

"They're a little obliged to like you, don't you think, since you built them?"

He sighed. "Okay. I get the point. If you want me to go with you to a party-"

"That's not it. Although I will let you know if I see anything come up on TwoSquared. Hiro, you're eighteen. And you've done a lot of great things and have a lot of people who care about you, but Hiro—have you ever been kissed?"

"I, uh—yeah, loads of times. I mean, I'm a superhero! Chicks dig that!"

"Hiro..."

"I mean, the helmet does kinda get in the way and... secret identity... but if I had to be kissed, I mean really had to, I could make that happen!"

She put her hand on his thigh, her touch the same as ever, tapering and delicate. "Alright, Hiro, alright. I'm a poor college student and I can't afford to really get you anything for your birthday, but... maybe this'll be alright."

There was suddenly something in Hiro's throat as he noticed how really nice Honey's lipstick looked. "Hey, hey, uh, you don't have to do that if you don't... want... to..."

Honey came at him, lips pursed, her motion slow and graceful for once. Hiro felt someone else, someone suave and cool, opening his mouth as their lips met, moving in simple counterpoint to the soft meeting of their skin. Honey's hand came up to his face—fingers slender and mild as they ran down his cheek.

His own hands very gently came up, hovering from her skirt to her cardigan until he was holding her face, doing the work of pulling them closer together for her, his tongue in her mouth now, hers in his, something hot and electric between them somewhere. Their chests met as they seemed to embrace, her small breasts against his slender musculature, his hands now on her back, feeling her birdlike bones through her clothes and skin. He felt hers on his shoulders, like she was holding on as he kept kissing her, kissing her, kissing her...

"I just got you a gift card," GoGo said.

Hiro found himself jumping back—his tongue out of Honey's mouth—to see GoGo in the doorway. She bumped the slider a ways open with her hips. "Tomago!"

"Yeah. Happy birthday. Nice work getting to first base."

Honey sprang up. "I have to go!" She wiped at her mouth with the back of her fist, horrified to find her lipstick smudged. "I'll see you at the Institute! And you, GoGo."

"I've never been kissed either, if you're wondering what to get me for Christmas," GoGo said sardonically.

Honey fled like she'd disturbed a beehive.

Hiro looked at GoGo. His lips felt wet. "It's okay if you got me a gift card."

"Now I feel a little weird. Clearly the accepted eighteenth birthday present is a tongue down the throat. And I thought you liked Olive Garden." She flashed a twenty-five-dollar gift card at him.

"I do like Olive Garden," he assured her; as always, Hiro was vaguely intimidated by GoGo while also vaguely wanting to please her.

She was a head shorter than Honey Lemon, but as if there were some ratio of girl-parts to be maintained, that height had gone into width. Her hips and thighs curved dangerously, packed with powerful muscle, as did the biceps of her svelte arms and—Hiro usually tried not to notice-her bust. Between the busted zipper of her leather half-jacket, a tight T-shirt turned her breasts into pointed beauties, made it obvious she wasn't wearing a bra.

GoGo seemed to consider this, blowing a bubble from her ever-present gum, popping it, sucking it back between her dark lips. Her narrow eyes regarded him animatedly. "I love Olive Garden."

"Good. That's good. I could take you sometime-"

"I don't need a man to go to Olive Garden," she interrupted.

"I wasn't saying-"

"It's my gift card, though, so it'd make sense for you to use it on me. If you wanted to go to Olive Garden. You know... with someone."

Hiro was hopelessly confused and he didn't even like Olive Garden that much. "Okay."

GoGo gave her T-shirt a quick tug, making her breasts jut out. She saw how Hiro looked away. A cocky grin quirked her face. "If you don't like Olive Garden, you can just say so."

"I like Olive Garden!" he cried, exasperated.

"I don't believe you."

Hiro moved to get up off the bed. "What are we even talking-"

Moving fast and certain, GoGo was across the room, at his chest, shoving him back down. "I think I'll keep the gift card."

Hiro blinked, feeling like he'd suddenly heard a rattlesnake... rattle. "Okay."

"I'll get you something else for your eighteenth."

"You don't have to."

"Oh no, Hiro-" Her eyes regarded him more coolly than ever. "I want to."

And, with a cocky smile, she raised her shirt over her pink-tipped breasts, letting them jiggle freely in the air.

Hiro couldn't look away for all the tea in China. His paralyzed eyes flew all over her naked breasts as GoGo thrust them higher. He was staring so hard, she could almost feel his touch...

GoGo pulled her shirt back down. "Anyway, your weird mom's probably done making you breakfast now. If you hurry, you can beat off in the shower before your bacon get cold. Laters."

She disappeared out the door.

"I don't... in the shower..." Hiro said distantly.