The BLTS Archive- Tutoring Session
by J. Juls (jjuls@tbc.net)

---

Disclaimer:  Data, Wes, Dekyon fields, and other Star Trek stuff
are owned by the Paramount/Viacom megaplex.  Any selling of this
story (yeah, right) will be met by their fury!  Story, such as it
is, copyright me (J. Juls).  Print it out, give it to your friends,
but please don't put it on your website unless you ask me.

Warning! Sex with minors!!

---

Friday night, and all off-duty personnel on the Starship Enterprise
were undoubtedly partying and having a great time...that is, all
but one lonely acting ensign.  Sure, Worf let him stay up as late
as he wanted on weekend nights, but what good did it do him?

Watergate, Irangate, Whitewater...did every scandal in Ancient
Earth History have to have a Water or a Gate in the name?

Wes blanked the screen and rubbed his eyes.  He had to get an A on
Monday's test--he always got an A.  But Ancient History was one
class in which Wes had no advantage over the other students.  It
was all rote memorization with no logic; not like his science
classes at all.

Turning his chair around, Wes stared into space and tried to
visualize his teacher; sometimes picturing the class helped him to
remember.  But all he could see was Shauna.

Shauna, who had caught his eye with her earnest stare as they had
passed in their homework PADDs, who had lightly touched his hand as
she reached back to get his assignment, who had continued to stare
and brush her hand against his much longer than was necessary.  And
whom he had shunned.

Had it just been surprise?  No girl in his classes had ever come on
to him so strong before.

Or was it more than surprise?  Wes laughed bitterly to himself when
he thought about how his previous "romances" had panned out.  The
Edo girl?  Death penalty!  And Salia?  Monster attack!  What would
Shauna do, throw him out an airlock?

Wes knew how to study, and he knew he would get nowhere with
Ancient Earth History right now.  But not to worry; he had another
test Tuesday, and it was in a much more interesting subject:
Advanced Subspace Theory.  He took the class remotely from the
Benzite Academy, since there were no other
children on the Enterprise at his level.  He did have a tutor here,
though:  Mr. Data.

Wes called up his text for the day and became immersed in the
beautiful and subtle calculations--he imagined warp fields twining
together through space, interacting, maybe even making new
universes.  He didn't know how many hours he had been sitting,
reading, doing calculations along with the author, when he came
upon the exercises.

"From Bloomer's Laws, derive the Gersh Principle, which shows that
no two oppositely-polarized warp fields may touch."

The Gersh Principle was displayed on-screen, and of course Wes had
memorized Bloomer's Laws the previous year.  But they didn't seem
to have anything in common.  Wes ordered a mug of coffee from the
replicator and eagerly accepted the challenge.

---

2326. He couldn't believe it was so late!  He looked around and
surveyed the damage.  Five PADDs were strewn about his desk, each
filled with a different line of logic, all growing more and more
complex instead of growing more clear, as he felt they should.  But
what was he doing wrong?  There had to be some secret he was
overlooking, and he was starving for the answer.  Without thinking,
he hit his commbadge.

"Wesley Crusher to Mr. Data."

A moment's pause; then a bit more than a moment.  Then, "Data here,
Wesley.  How may I help you?"

Wes suddenly remembered the time; should he have called?  "Uh,
sorry, Mr. Data.  Am I interrupting anything?"

"Yes."  Data was his usual honest self.  "But it was nothing
important.  I was trying to sleep."

"Sleep?  I'm sorry, sir; I didn't know you needed...."

"Oh, I do not need sleep.  But I do try it from time to time.  I
believe Dr. Soong may have installed that function in my brain, but
I have not yet been successful in activating it."

"Oh....  Uh...."  Wes didn't know what to say to that.

"As I said, however, it is not important.  Now, what is it you
need?"

---

It was only a few minutes later that Data had arrived at Wesley's
quarters to help him with the assignment.  All business, the
android had pulled up a chair to his left and had begun inspecting
his work so far.  Data's face looked...slightly perturbed, as if he
were about to critique a bad painting.

"I believe you are missing the point, Wesley.  I shall give you a
hint.  Your derivation will need to use Fromme's Law.  Write it
approximately halfway between the equations."

Wes struggled to remember Fromme's Law, a fairly complicated
equation regarding dekyon polarization, and one whose usefulness he
had previously doubted.

Data leaned closer to him, reaching over with his left hand to
point out an erroneous term.  "No, this is sigma cubed," he
corrected, placing his right hand on the back of Wesley's chair.
"And this expression..."  Data leaned a bit more..." should all be
inside a cosine, not a sine."

Wes looked at Data, then at the equation. "Yeah, that looks right,
I think."  He looked back at Data, who seemed to have a hint of
happiness in his face. Wes felt it too--the equation was indeed
elegant.

And then came an insight:  Wes suddenly knew--just knew--which way
to go with his derivation.

---

He started at the top, writing terms, working out the simple
algebra and calculus; and Data sat raptly beside him, waiting with
bated breath for each step.  Occasionally a comment would come:
"Yes, Wesley."  "Yes, that is correct."  "Ah.  You have made a
difficult leap of intuition here, one that took me many hours to
see."

And then, finally, Wesley was close to the end.  Writing the
symbols as fast as he could, Wes raced to the end with a rush of
triumph.  And Data must have seen that Wes was home free, because
there was almost joy in his voice when he said, "Well done, Wesley.
You have worked your way successfully though a very difficult
derivation with little help, and...."

Data was still speaking.  But Wes had noticed something else.  His
head felt fuzzy and drowsy all of a sudden, and, as the last
figures fell from his hand, Shauna's face loomed in his mind, but
it wasn't exactly Shauna; then he noticed that Data was still
talking about equations.  And he felt something, something odd,
something he had felt before but never noticed.

Data's breath...Data's breath rushed hot against his cheek.  So
hot--he had never noticed before--why had he never noticed
something so incredible?  And then, so subtle that it was only at
the edge of his senses, the scent of it.  The mingled fragrances of
light machine oil and copper and duranium and ozone--the scent
immediately sent him back to his father's abandoned tool shed.
There he had hidden with his stack of Playbeing magazines; when he
was done with them, he had gotten out the tools, dismantling the
old communicators, the palm-sized ones, and seeing their inner
workings...

"Wesley?"  The intoxicating smell was not back there in the shed;
it was here--right here; so was Data.  Data's strong hand gripped
his shoulder; Data's face was worried...worried?

"Data.  I mean, Mr. Data."  Wes started and sat up straight.  "Are
you okay?"

"I was going to ask the same of you, Wesley.  You stopped paying
attention to me approximately 26.2 seconds ago."

"Oh, sorry, Mr. Data."  He looked at Data wordlessly for some time,
a question building in his mind, a question that he had always
meant to ask someone, if ever he could find a kindred spirit.
"Sir, could you...tell me something?"

"Certainly, Wesley, if I am able."

Wes looked at Data, then away.  He did not know how to start the
conversation he wanted to have--indeed, he didn't exactly know
*what* conversation he wanted to have.  He sighed.  "Data, when you
were in school, what did you do about...girls?"

Data didn't pause at all, but simply sat up straight, composing
himself, and corrected Wes.  "I did not go to school as you do,
Wesley.  I went only to Starfleet Academy.  I was taught all other
lessons by scientists in the cybernetics laboratory on Galor IV."

"Oh, yeah."  But then again..."Well, what did you do in the
Academy?"

This did make Data hesitate.  "Interaction with the other cadets
was...difficult for me.  And when it came to matters of...romance,
I was more confused than with any other problems I encountered.
Although I am programmed in multiple techniques," [Wes flushed
bright red at *that* little tidbit of knowledge], "I do not
understand sexual desire.  Therefore, I had no reason to ask anyone
for a 'date.'"  By the way Data spoke the last word, it was clear
to Wesley that he still did not understand the significance of
dating.  And the "no sexual desire" stuff...why didn't that ring
true?

"But that canšt be all, can it, Mr. Data?  I mean, didnšt you ever
want to, um, simulate the social behavior of lifeforms?"

Data looked as if he were going to speak, but then he stopped.  Wes
looked at him encouragingly, and he began again.  "There was one
disturbing incident:  the Sadie Hawkins Dance."

Wes groaned.  "Do they still have *that* old relic at the Academy?"

"Yes, indeed, Wesley.  It apparently is an...honored tradition."
Data fell silent for so long that Wes thought maybe he had changed
his mind about revealing his past.  But then he continued,
matter-of-factly.  "I was invited to the dance by one of the most
popular females in my class.  However, when the night of the dance
arrived, I went to her room, only to find her on her way out the
door with another male.  It was quite confusing to me, until
several students amused themselves by explaining it to me at the
dance.  Needless to say, I went home early."  Data was staring at
his own knees.

Wes was touched, and he moved his hand to gently pat Datašs upper
arm.  He didnšt mean to let his hand linger there afterwards, but
it did anyway.  "Išm sorry, Data.  Lifeforms can be nasty like that
sometimes.  Some similar things have happened to me too."

Data looked at him then.  "Thank you for understanding, Wesley."

Hearing that Data's life hadn't been perfect coaxed the secrets out
of Wesley's brain.  "Mr. Data, do you mind if I...tell you
something?  Something that's been bugging me lately?"

"I do not 'mind' as such, Wesley.  However, are you certain you
would not be more comfortable discussing personal matters with
Counselor Troi?"

"No."  Then at Data's confused stare, he explained, "It's just that
she's...she wouldn't understand because she's a...."  Wes ground to
a halt, unwilling to say the rest--it sounded so *juvenile*.

"Ah.  You wish to speak to me because, while I am not a biological
life form as such, I am anatomically a male.  And Counselor Troi,
being a female, would not understand.  Interesting."

Data seemed to be thinking this reasoning over, amazed that Wesley
would bring him into a confidence such as this.  "Yeah, that's it,
Data," he said to get the android's attention.

And get it he did, for now Data's eyes were riveted on him in the
kind of uninterrupted stare only an android could manage.  Wes
started to shrink from the glare of those bright, clear eyes--what
astounding brilliance they had; however were they built?  Then he
caught himself, and a tumble of words escaped him, although he was
aware that he wasn't making much sense.

"Well, today in History class, Shauna was making goo-goo eyes at
me.  And I didn't know what to do; I knew I should be happy about
it and maybe ask her out.  But I didn't really want to.  At first I
thought I was just too chicken.  But then I figured out I wasn't
chicken; I just didn't want to go out with her.  And...and it's
just like on Rubicum III."  Wes's face grew warm as he thought
about his discomfort with the Edo girl, and the reason for the
discomfort started to gel in his mind as it never had before.
"That girl--well, I *knew* what she wanted to do.  I was just lucky
I talked her into playing baseball.  And I was trying to get rid of
her; I wanted to run as far away as I could.  And that's when I ran
into the greenhouse.  And I was almost *glad* I knocked over the
greenhouse--I mean, before I knew about their laws and stuff--it
*did* cool her off some.  But, I think--I think when I was running
away from her, I was imagining...I was imagining...the boy."

Wes finished the sentence so softly that he was almost talking to
himself, for he hadn't realized until now that, yes, he *had* been
attracted to the boy on Rubicum III.

Data was silent, absorbing everything Wesley had said as if he were
a neutron star and Wesley a red giant, and he was leaning very
close to Wesley.  And Wesley could still smell the tangy
machine-scent of his breath, and the indefinable fragrance of his
hair, so like the catalyst Wes used to create model starships.  And
Wes noticed now the uncomfortable feeling in his groin, and he knew
how he wanted to get rid of it, as he glanced at the edge of Data's
uniform collar, wondering just what lay underneath.

But if Data had noticed Wes's condition, he was pretending to
ignore it.  He placed his hand on Wes's shoulder again, in a
friendly way.

"But that is nothing to be ashamed of, Wes.  Certainly hundreds of
years ago, in the time you are studying in History class, people
were discriminated against based on to whom they were attracted.
However, you should know that that is not the case now."

"I know, Data, I'm just...surprised.  I don't know why I didn't see
it before!  And...and now it's too late, because nobody likes me
anyway."  He rested his head in his hands, disgusted with his fate.
But one word from Data stopped him from wallowing in his self-pity.

"Wesley...."

Wes looked up to see Data staring at him intently.  "Wesley, I
believe I understand how you...feel."

"What?  But, but you don't have feelings."  Duh, what a stupid
thing to say.  Wes knew that Data had feelings, no matter how much
everybody tried to talk him out of it.

"I believe that to be a misconception on the part of others, one
that I have, in a way, helped to propagate.  It seems," he began,
leaning back and looking almost world-weary, "It seems that, when I
speak, no one wants to  listen to me until I complete a thought."

Wes was about to say something but stopped himself *just* in the
nick of time.

"It is always 'thank you, Data,' or 'that is enough, Data,' or 'I
understand, Data.'  You know, of course, that I must tolerate it
from my superior officers.  But many times, even Counselor Troi and
Dr. Pulaski and Mr. Worf do the same thing.  So, when they ask me
about my...feelings, it does not do any good to explain to them.  I
know my emotions are much different from human emotions, and,
indeed, it is a subject of great curiosity to me--to understand
human emotions and compare them to my own; to see where I differ
from them.  But usually, before I utter more than ten words, they
have already silenced me.  So simply telling everyone that I have
no emotions makes life simpler all around.  And since no one on the
ship really knows me--the real me--I, too, sometimes feel as if no
one likes me.  For how can they like me if they do not know me?"

Wes sat stunned for a moment, trying to think of some way to
comfort the being who for a long time had been the only one to
comfort him.  Ever since Mom had left, he had felt very alone, and
Counselor Troi wasn't much help with all her psychobabble.  Riker
was more than just a tad scary for a sensitive boy like him, and
Worf?  Forget it!  And the Captain was far too distant.  As for
Pulaski, the less said about her, the better.

"Data," Wesley said, taking the liberty of using his tutor's first
name yet again, "I'll listen to you, I promise.  Anything you'd
like to say.  I'll shut up, honest."  But Data seemed not to want
to speak now; he was locked in his own thoughts, distant.  Wesley
gently took his hand, curling his own human fingers around the
android's graceful golden ones.  The gold color looked so exotic,
Wes couldn't help but draw Data's hand toward him to examine it
further.  The bioplast was white and translucent, he realized; the
gold tones came from the sensory mesh underneath.  It looked so
beautiful, all the plastic and fine conduits and tiny flashing LEDs
just barely visible below.  He kissed it.

---

"Wesley," Data breathed as if he were a human just waking.  He sat
forward a little.  "Wesley, we should not be doing this."  And by
the look in his eyes, Wes could see what Data meant by "this."  He
knew that if he was going to change his mind, it should be now.

Wes smirked, and he dredged up a bit of coquettishness that he
didn't really feel.  "I'm legal on at least 879 planets."

"But I am your instructor, Wesley."  Data was protesting, but
somehow Wes thought that maybe he was looking for an excuse not to
protest.  And then he noticed the incriminating bulge just below
Data's midsection.

"So instruct me, then."  With no further ado, Wesley unsealed
Data's uniform top, marveling at the sparkling, gold-white, smooth
chest thus revealed.  He unsealed the top of his own jumpsuit, too,
knowing that Data wouldn't do it.  Then he stood and hastily rid
himself of all his clothing, throwing it in an untidy heap on the
floor before devoting himself to Data again.  Slowly, in case Data
protested, Wes reached out to touch the bright skin which actually
seemed to glow under the light of the computer screen.  He stepped
up to the chair where Data still sat and ducked his hands under the
tight shoulders of the uniform, smoothing it down, easing it off
Data's arms.

He could feel the axial supports underneath Data's skin, and when
the android tentatively moved to embrace him, he memorized the
angles at which they were deployed and deduced the locations of the
motors that must activate them.  He dug his fingers deep, deep in
under the padding that served as muscle simulator and grabbed the
motors, massaging them as deeply as he could.

Data jumped a little and moaned.  "Ohhhh, Wesley.  No one has ever
done this...other people seem to want me to be a simulated human.
No one has acknowledged...what I am, and ooohhhhhhhh."  Wes found
the motors again and roughly dislocated them...just a little.  He
didn't want to hear about Data's past partners, but he had sworn
not to interrupt.  He just had to  make Data *want* to stop
talking.  Ever so gently, he inched his thigh between Data's legs
to rub against him--he was hard, so hard that he must be aching as
badly as Wes was himself.  Wesley simply had to see the rest of
Data; he unsealed his tutor's uniform all the way.

Data's cock pressed firmly up against his abdomen, gold meeting
gold, and it was so large that Wes shied away from it a little.
How could he take something like that?  But Data seemed to read his
mind.  "I can adjust to any size, Wesley.  You do not need to be
frightened."  Data stood up, like a gold idol on a primitive
planet, rising out of the forest to be worshipped.  He pulled off
the rest of his clothing with the same efficiency he used for
everything else.  Then he gathered Wes in a tender embrace, running
strong duranium fingers along his ribcage, tracing his backbone
down before squeezing firmly on his butt.

Wes was lost in the sensations of Data's body, kissing and licking
his tiny nipples, his chest, his smooth armpit, tasting the
resinous flavor of hot bioplast.  He was so lost in the moment, in
fact, that he didn't notice his building arousal until it was too
late, and he felt the shocks running through his groin and the
sticky wetness dribbling down between himself and Data's leg.   Wes
sighed.  Oh, how embarrassing!

"Oh, gosh, Data, I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to..."

"Shhh, do not worry, Wes," Data soothed, stroking his hair
tenderly.  "Do not worry."  Data placed his hands under Wes's butt
and slowly, firmly, lifted.

The next thing he knew, he was being placed gently on his bed, Data
always close to him, right above him.  Wes thought he knew what was
going to happen now, and he tensed a little despite himself.  He
was nervous. But Data surprised Wes by lowering his head and going
down on him, even though he was not hard yet.  Data squeezed the
base of Wes's cock with his left hand while sucking with his mouth,
and it was much different than anything he had ever managed to do
to himself!  Soon Wes was hard again, but it wasn't an urgent
hardness; the squeezing seemed to help.  He found he could relax
and enjoy the stimulation without the desperate race to the finish
he usually employed.  Data brought up his right hand and simply
held hands with Wesley; the very human gesture gave him pause once
again.  Where had Data learned that?  Was it programmed with his
other functions?

Presently Wes felt a heat boiling up inside him, and he moaned
involuntarily at the action of Data's agile teeth and tongue.  This
was when Data slowly pulled his mouth off him, buffering the
suddenness with a slow kiss right at the head and a lick around the
sides.  When he finally let go with his left hand, it was all Wes
could do not to come right then and there.  But luckily he was able
to stop.

Data seemed a little distracted himself, and he sat on his knees on
the bunk, seemingly at a loss.  Wes also saw that Data was
pleasuring himself; maybe he didn't even know that he was doing it.
"Data?"  Wes asked, easing up on one elbow to be closer to this
beautiful creature.  Data blinked and looked at him, and was that
longing he saw on the pale features?  "Data, I really do want you
to teach me.  Everything."  Wes was a little frightened; he
wondered whether Data could tell.  Data only nodded, and a tiny
smile briefly transformed his face.

"Wesley, do not be afraid.  Look."  Data sucked in a breath and
closed his eyes, and Wes saw his erect penis quickly shrink down
until it was no bigger than a writing stylus.  Then, before
Wesley's disbelieving eyes, Data's androidhood oozed out a shiny
coat of lubricant.  Data sighed and pushed Wes's shoulders back
down onto the bunk, and his knees up.

At first it was like nothing--well, not quite nothing--but nothing
Wes hadn't managed to do with his own fingers.  But gradually the
fullness became more intense, and he guessed that Data was now
increasing his size, and probably molding himself to fit Wesley's
inner shape as well.  Wes gasped as Data moved just the right way,
doing just the right things to drive him crazy.  He clenched down
on Data involuntarily.

"Not yet, Wes," Data gasped, and Wesley, hearing the wildness in
the usually-melodious voice, was hit with the realization that Data
was actually enjoying this, too!  No wonder the grownups wanted to
keep sex such a secret.  They wanted it all for themselves!  This
thought distracted him enough to keep him from coming, and Data
held stock still until Wes nodded, indicating that he was ready for
more.  Then Data licked his hand and palmed Wes's cock.

Wes closed his eyes and cried out, very softly, as Data gingerly
began to move his body and hand in a slow, smooth rhythm.  And it
really must have been only a few minutes before Wes found himself
in a place where everything was right, the feeling was exactly
right, and where there was nothing else he could do but let out a
low moan, and then he was coming and coming, and he came until
there was nothing left, and he didn't know whether he could ever do
it again, and Data was licking the stickiness off his chest and
belly as a mother cat licks her kitten.

Then he noticed that Data was slowly pulling out of him, still
rock-hard, and he saw that the golden cock had been at its original
full size.  And he realized that Data had pulled out so as not to
hurt him with too-hard thrusting, that he had given up his own
pleasure for Wesley.  So Wesley wordlessly sat up and gingerly
touched Data's still-slippery penis with his own hands.

Squeezing and pulling for all he was worth (because he didn't know
exactly what to do for an android), Wes tried to give back in some
small manner what Data had done for him.  It wasn't long before he
was rewarded, either--with streams of silvery fluid spurting out of
Data and splashing him, some on his mouth.  He tasted vanilla on
his lips when he licked them, and he saw the look of ecstasy on
Data's face.

Wesley flopped back onto his bunk, exhausted beyond anything he had
felt before, even after staying up all night doing homework.  He
felt he couldn't move or think, and he could only feel Data's soft
hands stroking his skin and Data's tongue lapping the vanilla off
his chest, only taste Data's tart, velvety lips rising up to kiss
his.  Then Data embraced his whole body and overwhelmed him with
warmth and kindness and comfort, and that was all he knew.

---

He was awake, yes, he knew that, but he couldn't quite pry his eyes
open.

"Computer, time," he yawned.

"1205," it answered in its annoying voice.  He really should change
that someday.

He was alone.  The blankets were pulled right up to his chin and
tucked in tightly around his feet.  He opened one eye and found
that the lights were off; only starlight illuminated his cabin.
But where was--he sat up.

"Data?" he asked the empty air.  Of course, no one answered.

---

Monday, Wesley reported for duty on the bridge, sitting at Conn.
Data was sitting at Ops, early for shift as usual.  Wes looked at
Data, and Data looked back with a sidewise glance.  He placed one
golden finger to his lips, nodding his head significantly back
toward Captain Picard and Commander Riker, who were talking quietly
in the command circle.  Wes jumped, looking to Deanna's seat; it
was a good thing that she wasn't there!

And Wes realized that if word of what teacher and student had done
got out, Data would have no career left in Starfleet.  Wes had
caught Data at a vulnerable point and had taken advantage of that,
and had received the most wondrous night of his life.  He would be
lucky to equal it again.  And it could very well hurt Data.  Wes
decided he would shut up about it; it never happened.

---

The End