Life in San Fransokyo

Trust and Touch

Summary: A discussion of trust between an optimist and someone with unusual abilities.

Nothing but the sound of the keyboard going clickety-clack and the occasional soft crackle of welding filled the room. Normally, Elsa would have found the sounds her keyboard made helpful in keeping her focus while she did the programming for Baymax, but today Tadashi decided to start creating the robot's actuators. His welding and her typing made a strangely beautiful duet to her ears, but it was a new sound, which made it rather distracting too.

Maybe it's time for a break, she decided after hitting delete to get rid of a typo, pushing her glasses up her nose and tucking back the lock of hair that had fallen across her forehead behind her ears. She glanced at the small clock on her screen.

9:45 PM.

Fifteen minutes. Maybe I can still squeeze in—

A loud groan interrupted her musings, prompting her to glance at her project partner. He had pushed back the protective mask from his face and was rubbing his left shoulder, rolling it around as well. Elsa watched him intently and heard him murmuring, as if he were talking to the almost-finished actuator he was working on. Her curiosity piqued, she placed her glasses on her desk and walked toward him, tapping his arm lightly to get his attention.

"Rough day?" she prompted, looking down at him with a slight smile. She gave him a quick, discreet once over, noting what he wore—a tight black t-shirt that molded to his body that if she looked hard enough, she would see the planes and contours of his chest and stomach.

Tadashi swiveled to face her, yanking the protective mask from his head and letting out a tired chuckle. "Yeah," he sighed. "I was just telling Baymax that I'm not giving up on him even if welding's a pain. Literally." He grimaced and rotated his shoulder again. "My back is killing me too."

"That's because you've been hunkered down all day," she chided him.

"Look who's talking. I can barely talk to you once you're plugged into your computer," he retorted, his arms snaking around her waist to pull her into a hug. Elsa stiffened at first, bracing her hands against his shoulders—it had only been a few days since they had officially become a couple, and while they're alone, there were still people outside the room and the door's unlocked and—

"Relax, Elsa. No one's going to walk in on us, if that's what you're worried about." Tadashi looked up at her, quirking an eyebrow as his thumbs traced lazy circles on her lower back. A shiver ran down her spine but the prospect of getting caught in a compromising position clashed with the pleasant sensation.

"How can you be sure? The door's not—"

*click*

"There. Door's locked." He smiled smugly and dangled a small remote before her. "Made it a few days ago—a universal remote for when I want to lock the door or bring down the blinds and I'm too lazy to get up. Didn't think it'll be this helpful, though."

"Ah." Elsa finally let herself relax, her hands creeping up his shoulders to run her fingers through his hair. "Though if you could do something about the blinds, maybe?" She motioned toward the large circular window. Doubtful as it was that anyone would see them, especially this late at night, she didn't want to take any chances.

Tadashi grunted and and complied, reaching behind him to point the remote at the blinds. Elsa watched the blinds go down, cutting them off from the rest of the world. And she preferred it that way.

"Better?" he asked, resting his head against her stomach.

"Much."

"Good. Please keep doing that, it feels nice."