#and that ppl would get distracted by the graphics rather than looking at her work

[servetolive]

Maddox/B4 “you’re not the one i love.’

spiritual sequel to “Test Subject Day Job.” kinda fluffy. literally just got drunk, chilled, and wrote whatever tf. also sorry riker, but the idea that ppl don’t watch movies or television in the 24th century is fucking lame so w/e

B4 was up and ready to go at 0500 the next day, nudging the sleeping Maddox when the replicator failed to make coffee at the usual time.

“Bruce?” He asked, shaking the human’s arm gently.

His head underneath a pillow, Maddox hmm’d and shifted over to his side.

“It’s time to get up.”

Maddox tossed moved the pillow from his head. His hair was greasy and his breath smelled like whiskey. With squinted eyes, he checked his wristwatch.

“It’s Saturday, B.”

And with that, he turned over on his stomach, his sheets falling from his naked ass, and went right back to sleep.

Slightly embarrassed, B4 said nothing. He dressed quietly and played with his blocks, organizing them by the color of the spectrum until he smiled at his ingenuity.

They spent a quiet day at home, with the lights turned off for the majority of the day so as not to aggravate Maddox’s headache.

B4 was learning quickly when to be quiet. While Maddox sat at his kitchen table, frowning into a PADD, he set down a mug of strong, dark roast coffee in front of the cyberneticist.

“Thank you,” Maddox said without looking up, taking the coffee to his lips.

“You’re welcome.” B4 excused himself into the living room, found his own PADD, and played a matching game with it, until Maddox heard childlike giggling.

After he’d finished the coffee, he placed his PADD on the table and sat on the floor across from the android and asked him what he was playing.

Smiling, B4 showed him the tablet.

“Ah. Tetris.”

Maddox looked at the score. His charge wasn’t doing so well. He plucked his glasses from their place in the collar of his shirt and put them on, taking the PADD from him.

“May I try?”

Delighted, B4 scooted closer to Maddox, leaning over with wonder to see how quickly his friend could clear line after line.

At B4′s request, they watched a movie in the living room after dark. Maddox had no reason to turn him down.

They sat on the couch, Maddox comfortably clad in threadbare sweatpants and a hoodie from his time on the Academy’s track team that had seen its best days; B4 snuggled in a set of hand me down pajamas that Data had given him.

For whatever reason, B4 had chosen to watch a spaghetti western. Maddox paid no mind: he was working, his head in a PADD and his legs tucked underneath him, leaning against the armchair of his couch while his android gently lay his head in his lap, watching the black and white frames on the TV.

It took about forty-five minutes before Maddox’s eyes began to hurt. He put down his PADD and removed his glasses, running a hand through B4′s hair as he pretended to watch too.

Wordlessly, B4 shifted his weight, moving so that he was looking directly up at the scientist.

It took no time at all for him to notice. Maddox enjoyed B4′s calculated silence; a symbol of progress on the android’s part: and more importantly, on his part.

He leaned down to kiss B4 in what began as a gentle form of recognition for his hard work and good behavior. Then he opened his mouth to him and cradled his face in his hands, in what became–to the android–a symbol of his affection.

They went to bed quietly, B4 asking no questions, only sighing pleasantly when Maddox acknowledged his arousal by placing his slender hand around it as he fucked him slowly, gently, his lips in contact with the android at nearly all times.

He was hooked up again, wires extended from his skull like a sick child on life support. This time, there were multiple techs included in the experiment–including Jessica, the chatty girl that he had grown fond of.

Unfortunately, he had no time to talk with her at all that morning. He had learned that when there was more movement than usual in the lab, it benefited him best to be silent.

“It won’t hurt today, B4,” Maddox had said to him before he even had a chance to ask. He believed him–why would he lie to him, an android?

“Might be a bit uncomfortable, but it won’t hurt.”

“Okay,” B4 said, amiably. He was still warm from his memory of the night before, how Bruce had held him close and fallen asleep with a head on his shoulders. It hardly bothered him that he was naked this time, and it certainly did not seem to be of any concern to anyone involved.

“So today,” the cyberneticist began, “Is going to be a little bit different. I’m going to show you a series of photographs. You may speak if you want.”

“Okay.”

The first one: a classic, black and white photo of a man and a woman, kissing; a rose held between them.

B4 smiled. Maddox turned toward his station and plucked at his PADD.

The second one. A girl laughing in the rain, without an umbrella.

B4 found the picture pleasant, but was otherwise indifferent to it.

The third: a vibrant photograph of shrimp linguini. Bored, B4 ignored it.

The fourth: a display of Fourth of July fireworks. B4 chuckled.

The fifth: a black and white photograph of someone’s tongue sticking out of an open mouth, saliva and bubbles dripping from it. B4 was confused, and felt strangely about it.

The sixth: a moving picture of an erect male horse mounting a female. Something pulled at him–something he couldn’t define.

Each picture grew exponentially explicit. A naked breast. A triangle of pubic hair. An erect penis lying against a navel. Welts on exposed buttocks.

“Bruce,” B4 asked on the thirty-second picture; a man’s mouth waiting expectantly on the other side of a glory hole. Maddox turned to him.

“I…” B4 shifted his weight in his chair. He looked down at his half-erect penis, not quite remembering it appearing.

“I don’t understand.”

“Computer,” Maddox said. “Pause playback.”

The computer acknowledged with a chime.

“B4,” Maddox said in his stern, “work” voice, which B4 felt the most uncomfortable about. “We’ve talked about this before.”

“I don’t remember.”

Maddox knelt before the android. “Yes, you do. Androids don’t forget, B.”

B4 wasn’t quite sure how to explain to Maddox that it was the context of this experiment he was missing. He didn’t quite have the best grasp on the idea of context in the first place.

He looked down between his legs again. He was leaking. Pathetically, he looked back at Maddox.

“I–”

“You know what this experiment is,” the human said, annoyed. From behind him, he could hear the taptap of Jessica’s stylus. “You know what’s expected of you. Perform your natural response to this imagery.”

“I can’t,” he said quietly, eyes shining with moisture. “I need h–”

Before he could finish his sentence, Maddox drew himself upright and said to Jessica and the two techs:

“You’re dismissed.”

B4 turned to gauge Jessica’s reaction. She was shocked; disappointed. Her bottom lip fell open partially to reveal her braces and the arm with the PADD fell to her side.

“Commander, but–”

“Get out, I said.”

She wasted no time in ushering her techs out of the door and scurrying away herself. Maddox placed a security lock on the door before coming around to stand in front of B4.

“I’m not going to help you this time, B,” he said, the tenderness of the night before hacked to pieces with the sterility of the environment. “Do your job.”

He continued the battery of visual stimuli. B4 was so distracted  that he hardly paid any of them mind.

“I want to go home,” he said, looking through the graphic images rather than at them.

Maddox paused the playback again. He drew in a deep sigh, before whirling on B4. He was about to say something, before his combadge buzzed.

He reached underneath his labcoat to touch it.

“Yes,” he said, deeply annoyed. “What is it?”

“Commander, excuse the interruption, but you have a guest?”

“A guest? But–”

He stopped talking. His face relaxed in a strange way, as if he suddenly remembered that he were expecting someone. B4 sat quietly; patiently, listening.

Maddox touched his combadge again. “Show him to my office, please.”

“Acknowledged.”

Immediately, Maddox removed his labcoat and draped it over his chair at his workstation, entering a few commands into it.

“B4, I want you to stay right there,” he said as he moved toward the door. He entered a few digits into the touchpad and walked out.

“Remember our discussion,” he said vaguely, before the door slid shut between them.

B4 counted the minutes. Twenty-four and thirteen seconds before he heard the low rumble of Maddox’s voice in the hallway, the door of the adjoining laboratory sliding open, and another familiar voice.

To his right, where the images were projected, the glass lit up to give him a one-way view of the next room.

“Hey,” he said out loud, happily and with a smile. “There is the Little One.”

Data and Maddox had entered the lab, Maddox with a broad smile on his face. He couldn’t precisely hear what they were saying: the sound feed was off, and he had not yet mastered the skill of lip-reading.

They chatted for a while, his brother’s gold top looking magnetically out of place to him, after seeing nothing but science teal for so many months.

He wanted so badly to say hello or tap on the glass, but he stayed put in his chair, hooked up to Maddox’s sensor readings.

“What are they talking about about?” he wondered aloud.

Data was engaging with Maddox, but neither of them were looking at panels or PADDs, nor did it seem that they were discussing anything remotely related to work.

Eventually, he saw Maddox touching Data’s elbow gently, before his hand fell down to his side.

Data’s lips moved. The two stood closer.

B4 felt strange. He wasn’t smiling any longer.

And before long, he saw Data lean down towards Maddox to kiss him, his eyes closed. Maddox clutched at the front of Data’s uniform. They stayed like that for what seemed like forever, exploring each other’s mouths. Maddox had a look on his face that B4 had never before known him to have when they were together.

When they moved away from each other, Maddox brought his hands up behind Data’s back and unzipped him. Data shrugged out of his top while Maddox worked on his trousers, a look of absolute devotion and desire on his face.

B4 began to sniffle.

It took the sight of his human friend clearing the desk against the far wall with a sweeping motion of the arm and sitting upon it, his legs open, for B4 to understand what Maddox wanted. Data moved between Maddox’s thighs, his cock exposed from his black slacks, and pulled the human close to him, fucking him against the desk.

He couldn’t hear, but he saw how much Maddox enjoyed it; how hard he was, how his mouth remained open, how he kept rolling his head back, how Data kept leaning forward as if to drink from his moans.

When Maddox reached for his cock, so did B4; and when the human came, so did he.

B4 looked down on his soiled hand. He didn’t see how Maddox had kissed his brother passionately; hands roaming up his back and into his hair, and how the android had pulled out of him, or how they had cleaned the mess afterwards.

He didn’t look up until Maddox, in a new uniform and with his hair in perfect condition, returned to the main lab fifteen minutes later.

Satisfied, he exhaled.

“How was it, B4?” He said, turning to his terminal and picking up the PADD he’d left at his desk. “Did you enjoy that?”

B4 didn’t answer, and Maddox didn’t complain.

“Nice,” he said, turning to his charge. “Very nice.”

He knelt down and put a hand against B4′s neck.

B4 only looked up at him with glistening, pained eyes as Maddox pulled him in for a hug.

“Oh, you stop that,” he said.

“Just another pony.”

A week later, B4 was prepared when Maddox’s secretary called for him to attend to another visitor.

Or so he thought.

“Oh no,” B4 complained sadly as he watched a black-haired girl stand on her toes to give Maddox a hug. They leaned their mouths into each others’ necks, and Maddox’s eyes flicked to where he knew B4 would be able to see.

“Not the Baby.”

#the monster and the idiot #b4/maddox #b4 #bruce maddox #tng #fic #sad #:( #data/maddox #implied lal/maddox #goddamn maddox is a fucking hoe