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The low hum of voices in Ten Forward was a comfortable background as Geordi La Forge sat nursing a coffee, half-listening to Guinan recount a story about something Worf had said to her earlier. He smiled politely, but his mind wandered — his latest warp field recalibration project still lingering in the back of his brain.
When Data entered the lounge, Geordi noticed him instantly. The android moved with his usual efficient precision, but there was something oddly hesitant about him today. A slight delay between his steps, a nearly imperceptible tilt to his head as he scanned the room.
Data made a direct line to Geordi’s table, hands clasped behind his back. Geordi smiled and waved him over.
"Hey, Data! What's up?" he greeted.
Data tilted his head slightly in response.
"I require a diagnostic check-up," he said in his usual calm tone. "Preferably at your earliest convenience."
Geordi sat up straighter, "Yeah? Something wrong?"
"I have been experiencing anomalies," Data said, lowering his voice enough to suggest he thought it prudent, though no one nearby was paying them any mind.
"Since the installation of my emotion chip, I have noticed irregularities in my motor functions and neural feedback systems," he explained.
Geordi set his glass down and nodded thoughtfully, "Sure thing. What kind of irregularities?"
Data hesitated, another tiny, strange pause. "I am experiencing... fluctuations. Small tremors in my hands. Increased reaction times to certain stimuli. And on several occasions, sensations I cannot quantify." He paused, blinking for a moment. "Last night I attempted to recalibrate my optical sensors and found that the mere anticipation of the procedure caused my servos to tighten beyond standard tolerance levels."
Geordi smiled at him reassuringly. "That sounds like nerves, buddy."
"I have no nerves," Data said seriously. "At least not in the biological sense."
Geordi smiled again, standing up. He clapped Data gently on the shoulder. "Come on. Let’s run some scans.
The diagnostic room they usually used for Data’s check-ups was tucked into a quieter corner of main engineering — a small, private space lined with interface panels, monitoring equipment, and a single examination table reinforced for all manner of alien and cybernetic life.
Data perched on the edge of the table while Geordi moved easily around him, whistling a tune under his breath as he powered up the diagnostic array. The familiarity of the scene, Geordi's easy presence, the crisp efficiency of his hands as he prepped the instruments should have been routine. Yet Data felt different.
"I ran into Leah Brahms on the starbase last week," Geordi said, smiling as he attached a sensor node to Data’s wrist. "Turns out she's leading a new research team. She asked about you, by the way. Wanted to know if you'd ever considered collaborating on cybernetic interface designs."
Data blinked slowly. "I was not aware Doctor Brahms had an interest in cybernetics."
Geordi shrugged. "She’s a smart lady, I’m not surprised she’s interested in other areas. Leah said working with you on her project would be a dream come true. I told her you'd probably be too busy being indispensable to Starfleet."
The warmth in Geordi's voice casual and affectionate washed over Data like an unexpected current. He found himself watching the curve of Geordi’s smile, the faint crinkle in his skin at the edge of his VISOR when he laughed. Observing it sent a strange flutter through Data's abdominal servos, an odd, flickering sensation he could neither predict nor control.
Data shifted on the table, confused. He ran an internal diagnostic. All systems nominal. No electrical shorts, no degradation. Yet the sensation persisted, light and almost ticklish, just beneath his structural casing. A cascade of gentle impulses that served no practical purpose.
"Geordi," Data said suddenly, cutting through the engineer’s cheerful monologue. "I believe there is something wrong."
Geordi looked up, concern immediately replacing his smile. "What is it, buddy? Pain?"
Data shook his head. "Not pain. I am experiencing an unusual... fluttering... sensation localized within my torso. It is not related to any known mechanical process I am aware of."
Geordi frowned thoughtfully and adjusted the scanner, running a deeper scan over Data’s chest and abdomen. "Fluttering, huh? Like an energy surge?"
"No," Data said, brow furrowing. "More like... vibrations. Small. Rapid. They are triggered by external stimuli, such as our conversation and observation of your facial expressions."
Geordi laughed, shaking his head. "Well, that's new. So, you're telling me that you watching me is causing you to feel all buzzy inside?"
Data blinked again, his processors momentarily hanging on the phrasing. "That is a crude but accurate description."
Geordi chuckled, setting the scanner down. "Data, I think I know what's happening."
Data tilted his head, eagerly awaiting the explanation.
"You’re not malfunctioning. Your emotion chip, it’s connecting new feelings to your physical systems. You're reacting to being happy. Or excited. Or maybe even something deeper, I can’t say for sure."
The words hung between them, heavier than Geordi intended. For a second, he seemed to realize it too, clearing his throat and busying himself with the readouts.
Data, however, remained still. Deep in internal analysis. He considered his proximity to Geordi, admiration for his skills, enjoyment of his presence, the unique pleasure derived from his voice and expressions.
Could this sensation be affection?
"I do not believe I have experienced this specific emotion before," Data said carefully. "It is not unpleasant."
Geordi smiled again softer this time, almost shy and clapped Data’s shoulder. "Well, you're doing great, Data. Feelings can be weird. But they’re part of being alive."
Data stared at the hand on his shoulder for a beat too long, cataloguing the light pressure, the warmth, the subtle familiarity of the touch. The fluttering returned, stronger now, rippling outward through his entire frame.
Perhaps it was not a malfunction at all and Geordi was right, it was just his body adapting to the chip’s implant. He sat perfectly still on the diagnostic table considering this new theory, but internally he was a whirl of new sensations.
The light from the console cast a soft blue glow across Geordi's face as he moved to prepare the more detailed scans. His VISOR caught the light, throwing tiny reflections across the room as his fingers deftly adjusted the sensor calibration — so quick and sure.
Data’s gaze tracked every movement. The skilful way Geordi’s hands worked, the small furrow between his brows when he concentrated, the slight grin that lingered on his lips as he hummed under his breath. Data absorbed it all, and with it came a ripple of that now familiar flutter through his internal systems. Only this time it was stronger.
He registered the sensation as akin to a shiver. Not from a malfunction, and not from a fluctuation in temperature. He was shocked when he recognised what it was, it was anticipation.
Anticipation of Geordi’s touch.
Data’s skin, or rather, the synthetic dermal layer that covered his endoskeleton, was designed to mimic human sensory response to some degree. Calibration of touch sensitivity was a standard diagnostic procedure. Data had undergone it countless times without reaction.
But now, the mere thought of Geordi’s hands making contact with his artificial skin sent another tight shiver through his torso, spiraling outwards like electricity through a power grid.
It was irrational, Illogical and unnecessary. And yet, Data found he did not wish it to stop.
"I will proceed with the full diagnostic scan," Data said, carefully modulating his voice to hide the slight tremor he detected forming. "It is statistically improbable, but I wish to conclusively rule out the possibility of mechanical malfunction."
Geordi gave him a small smile, the kind that made the corners of his mouth tilt up unevenly, revealing just a hint of teeth. The flutter in Data’s abdomen kicked up again, more insistently.
"You got it," Geordi said warmly. "Go on and lie back for me, Data."
Data obeyed, reclining onto the padded surface of the diagnostic table. The material shifted under his weight with a small sigh, and he turned his head slightly to keep Geordi in view. Watching as his friend picked up the sensor wand, adjusting its sensitivity levels with an expert flick of his thumb.
Geordi approached, and Data’s sensory nodes fired early, hypersensitive to the smallest shift of air across his skin. He registered the faint warmth of Geordi’s body, the near-silent sound of his uniform creasing as he leaned closer.
"I’ll start with surface neural mapping," Geordi said. "Just relax."
Data nodded stiffly, unsure how to comply. His body was prepared for contact, but his mind for once was unprepared for the sensations that awaited.
The first touch was feather-light. The scanner gliding over his clavicle, tracing the upper framework of his torso. A completely mechanical process no actual skin-to-skin and yet Data’s dermal sensors misfired anyway, interpreting proximity, warmth, and familiarity as something more intimate.
He forced himself to catalogue the sensations clinically, but it was becoming harder by the second. Every pass of the scanner was like a trail of static across his skin. His fingers twitched involuntarily against the table’s edge.
Geordi’s voice broke through, steady and calm. "Everything looks normal so far. Your neural relays are firing perfectly."
Data released an unnecessary breath he hadn't realized he was holding, a simulation of relief.
Still, the fluttering did not abate. If anything, it intensified the longer he lay there, exposed beneath Geordi’s careful hands, each movement sparking another confusing surge through his internal systems.
What is this? Data asked himself, running subroutines at blinding speed. He had no virus. No malfunction. No corrupted code. Only a deepening, unquantifiable reaction to Geordi.
And for the first time since his creation, Data realized, with something like awe, that he did not wish to correct it.
Geordi worked in silence for a few moments, concentrating on the readouts projected above Data's body. The scanner beeped softly, signalling each successful pass, but Geordi's trained eyes caught something the instruments didn’t, Data's tiny, involuntary movements.
A twitch of the fingers. A slight shifting of his hips. His chestplate rising and falling with unnecessary simulated breaths, faster than his usual baseline.
Geordi frowned, setting the scanner aside. He leaned in slightly, voice dropping with concern, "Hey, Data... you okay? You're moving around a lot."
Data turned his head toward Geordi, golden eyes wide, the artificial muscles in his jaw working before he answered. "I am functional," he said carefully, "Please continue."
Geordi didn't look convinced. He hesitated, one hand resting lightly on the diagnostic table next to Data’s side. "If you're uncomfortable, we can stop. Seriously, buddy. I don’t want to push you if something feels wrong."
The kindness in Geordi’s voice hit Data harder than the scanner's pulse. Another tremor coursed through his abdomen, deeper now, heavier. His body interpreted it as a low, steady heat blooming under his synthetic skin.
He shifted again, almost helplessly, one knee drawing up slightly before he consciously forced it down. His body, usually a model of precision and control, was betraying him.
"I assure you, Geordi," Data said, forcing his voice into steadiness, "I am not in pain. Nor am I in distress. The sensations I am experiencing are simply unfamiliar."
He paused, processing, struggling to bridge the gulf between sensation and understanding. "It appears proximity and contact are intensifying the anomalous reactions."
Geordi chuckled softly under his breath, a warm, reassuring sound that only made the heat in Data’s belly tighten further. "I get it, you're not the only one who gets twitchy sometimes. Feelings can do that."
He picked up the scanner again but set it aside a second later, chewing his lower lip in thought.
"You know," he said, tapping the edge of the table lightly, "if you want, we can skip the fancy tools. Sometimes the old-fashioned way works better. Manual tactile diagnostics. I can check your pressure and heat sensors by hand."
Data blinked rapidly, a cascade of subroutines firing. Manual tactile diagnostics would mean more direct contact. More of Geordi’s hands. Clever, warm and familiar. All on his body.
Another shudder of anticipation danced across his chest, down his stomach, settling low inside him.
"I would appreciate that," Data said at last, his voice lower than he intended.
Geordi grinned at him again, easy and unbothered. He reached out, gently brushing his fingers across the edge of Data’s collarbone. Testing.
Data's entire body tensed reflexively and a barely-audible whir escaped his servos as he tried to recalibrate. His skin sensors magnified the contact, turning a simple brush into something that felt almost profound.
"You’re sensitive," Geordi murmured more to himself than Data, "That's new."
He pressed a little more firmly now, gliding his fingertips along the seam where Data's shoulder met his neck. His touch was methodical and clinical. And yet, Data's systems interpreted every touch as something electric… something important.
He squirmed again despite himself, the heat in his belly pulsing outward in slow, aching waves. He was overheating. Not dangerously, but perceptibly. His cooling systems started to compensate automatically. His artificial heart thrumming faster than necessary. All from the simple sensation of Geordi's fingers moving along his skin.
Data swallowed, a purely aesthetic reflex, and clenched his hands against the diagnostic table to steady himself.
"I am experiencing further irregularities," he admitted quietly.
Geordi’s hand paused immediately. "Do you want me to stop?"
"No," Data said, perhaps too quickly. He blinked. Calibrated his voice again. "Please continue."
Geordi gave a small, fond laugh and resumed his slow exploration, tracing the artificial nerves with an engineer’s tenderness.
"If I didn’t know better," Geordi said in a low murmur, "I’d say you were ticklish."
Ticklish. The word tumbled through Data’s mind like a pebble in a stream, creating ripples he could not control. Or perhaps it was something else entirely, something deeper, more primal, something that made his body arch subtly into Geordi’s touch without conscious command.
Data, lying there with his body alight and his mind racing, realized something with sudden clarity. He did not want it to stop.
He wanted more.
Geordi continued to methodically work his way across Data’s shoulders and upper arms, his fingers pressing lightly into synthetic muscle fibres, testing the feedback response. Each touch was supposed to be neutral, mechanical, but the way Data shifted under his hands, the way his body reacted... it wasn’t like anything Geordi had ever seen from him before.
He tried to shake off the feeling. Nah. No way. This is Data. Mr. Cool. Mr. Composed. He’s just having weird feedback from the emotion chip.
Still, he couldn't ignore the little signs. The way Data’s breath hitched — purely aesthetic or not — when Geordi’s hand grazed too close to the centre of his chest. The way his golden eyes flickered half-closed, his lips parting ever so slightly.
Geordi cleared his throat and stepped back, forcing a smile. "Okay, uh... next step is your torso. I’ll need you to, um... take off the top-half of your uniform so I can get better access to your dermal sensor network."
Data sat up smoothly, though Geordi noticed the slight tremor still lingering in his movements. Yet without hesitation or any hint of the shyness a human might have shown Data reached up and unfastened the seam of his uniform tunic.
Geordi looked away instinctively at first — give the man some privacy, La Forge — but curiosity tugged at him, and when he turned back, the sight before him nearly knocked the air from his lungs.
Data peeled the fabric down from his shoulders and arms, folding it neatly beside him. His synthetic skin gleamed under the soft light, flawless and smooth, the subtle lines of internal reinforcement barely visible beneath the surface. His chest rose and fell with unnecessary breaths, but Geordi's VISOR picked up the truth a pair of human eyes never could have seen.
Data’s internal systems were running hot, hotter than usual by several degrees. The faint luminescent energy that always clung to him like a whisper was now a visible halo, brighter and pulsing in rhythm with the increased beat of his artificial heart.
Geordi’s own heart skipped a beat.
No way, he thought again, a little desperately. No way Data's... he's not... he can't be—
But the evidence was right there, glowing and undeniable.
Data reclined back on the table once more, arms at his sides, looking up at Geordi with a face caught between patient trust and something else, an unspoken need he didn’t even seem to recognize.
Geordi swallowed hard and moved closer, reaching out to press his fingertips to the centre of Data’s chest right over his artificial heart casing. The warmth under his palm was startling.
"Your temperature’s elevated," Geordi murmured, half to himself.
"I have compensated with increased cooling system activity," Data said, his voice just slightly unsteady. "However, my core remains… unusually heated."
Geordi's fingers trailed lower, tracing the lines of Data’s chest and ribs, feeling the responsive flex of synthetic musculature. It should have been like checking a machine or running diagnostics on an engine.
But it wasn’t.
Everywhere he touched, Data’s body responded. Small, involuntary twitches of skin, tiny contractions of artificial muscles, slight hitches in the way he breathed.
And worst (or best) of all, every time Geordi’s fingers brushed certain spots, under the ribs, just above the abdomen, the halo around Data’s body brightened.
Data closed his eyes for a moment, as if struggling to process the sensations, his body arching subtly into the touch without meaning to.
Geordi exhaled slowly, feeling the atmosphere between them suddenly tighten.
"This isn't... just normal feedback, is it?" Geordi said, barely above a whisper.
Data’s golden eyes opened again, fixing on him, wide and unguarded. "I do not believe it is."
There was a moment, a long, aching heartbeat where neither of them moved, and Geordi realised, perfect, unflappable Data was, for once, completely at the mercy of something he couldn't control.
And it wasn’t malfunction. It wasn’t a glitch. It was feeling. Real, raw and Powerful. And it was totally directed at Geordi.
Data, still lying back against the diagnostic table, shifted slightly, his bare chest rising and falling with shallow, unnecessary breaths. The heat that had been building within him was now undeniable, like a low-burning coals nestled under his synthetic ribs.
Still, some part of him insisted on thoroughness. On ruling out all possibilities, no matter how improbable.
"I wish to eliminate the possibility of an internal anomaly," Data said, his voice slightly strained despite his best efforts to regulate it. "Please access my internal maintenance port and perform a manual systems survey."
Geordi hesitated for barely a second then gave a small nod. "Of course, Data. Whatever you need."
He stepped closer, his hands careful, almost reverent as he reached out. "Just... just tell me if anything feels wrong, okay?"
Data nodded stiffly, his throat working around a simulated swallow.
Geordi's fingers moved to the centre of Data’s chest, searching with feather-light pressure for the almost invisible seam hidden in his dermal covering. The synthetic skin was designed to be seamless to the human eye, but Geordi’s VISOR picked out the faintest differences in density and pattern.
He pressed gently, thumb brushing along the delicate line, feeling for the subtle catch that would release the access panel. His touch was exploratory and slow, almost too slow, and each pass of his fingers over Data’s chest sent new tremors through his body.
Data's hands clenched uselessly at his sides, his abdominal servos fluttering beneath the surface. When Geordi's thumb caught on the hidden latch and pressed inward, there was a soft click and a barely-stifled sound escaped Data’s lips.
A sharp, helpless little gasp.
He froze immediately afterward, eyes wide with horror at himself. "I... apologise," he said quickly, voice tight. "I am experiencing difficulty regulating my vocal outputs."
He turned his head away, mortified.
But Geordi, dear, sweet, steady Geordi, only smiled, a little breathless himself, and reached to gently touch Data’s shoulder. His thumb rubbed a slow, soothing circle into the tense synthetic muscle.
"Hey. It’s okay," Geordi said, voice quiet and kind. "It’s just me. You don’t have to hold it all in. You’re safe. You can you can feel whatever you need to feel."
The simple, earnest reassurance, the trust and immediate acceptance struck something deep inside Data.
He nodded slowly, unable to form words, and let himself relax slightly under Geordi's careful hands.
Geordi returned his attention to the now-slightly-parted panel. The thin seam at the centre of Data’s chest had opened just enough to reveal the intricate network of circuits and synthetic muscle fibres beneath. Geordi slid his fingers into the gap, gently parting the panels wider to access the internal diagnostic nodes.
The sensation and the deliberate, invasive intimacy of it was unlike anything Data had ever encountered.
Each press of Geordi’s fingers against the inner edge of his dermal plating sent crackling, stuttering bursts of sensation along his neural net. His torso arched slightly off the table without his permission, a broken, needy noise catching in his throat.
Embarrassed again, he bit down on it. But Geordi caught his movement and gave his shoulder another reassuring squeeze.
"Don't," Geordi murmured. "You don’t have to hide it. I want you to show me, Data. It’s okay."
Something about the way he said it. So warm and so sure. So achingly tender made something inside Data unravel further.
Geordi worked with utmost care upon his friend. His fingertips brushing delicate internal structures, searching for any sign of disruption but everything he touched was perfect. Data was responsive. His body was alive in a way no diagnostic had ever revealed before.
Through his VISOR, he could see the light of Data's internal energy blooming brighter with every passing moment, like a star being slowly coaxed into supernova.
And with each brush, each connection, Data gave in a little more. Small, soft sounds escaping without conscious thought, hips shifting slightly against the diagnostic table, as if seeking more.
Geordi’s hands trembled slightly as he pushed the access panels further apart, exposing the gleaming complexity within. Data's internals were exquisite, a marvel of engineering, but now, seen in this context, they were intimate and almost achingly vulnerable.
His fingertips brushed along the soft bundles of sensory wiring, coaxing a response from the tactile receptors mapped along Data’s torso.
The reaction was immediate.
Data’s entire body tensed, a low, uncontrollable honest to god moan slipping from his lips. His hands clutched the edges of the diagnostic table, metal groaning under the pressure as he inadvertently put too much pressure on the frame.
Geordi gulped, his mouth dry, heat rushing up his neck. He hadn't meant to push it this far.
But Data’s responses, raw, involuntary and so beautifully needy, stirred something deep inside him, something that demanded to be acknowledged.
And yet, even now, even trembling with the effort to stay professional, Geordi forced himself to be sure.
He leaned in close, his voice rough and low but steady with concern.
"Data," he murmured, fingers still gently splayed across the open cavity of Data’s chest, "do you... understand what’s happening here?"
Data’s golden eyes fluttered open, glazed with sensation but attentive, listening and trusting.
"I am... experiencing intense pleasure responses," Data said, his voice vibrating with barely-contained shudders. "Originating from tactile and emotional stimulus… from your touch."
Geordi gave a shaky laugh, part disbelief, part pure affection. "Yeah. Yeah, buddy, that’s about right."
He hesitated, thumb brushing lightly across a delicate sensory node just inside the access port, earning another soft, helpless noise from Data.
Geordi’s heart thudded painfully in his chest. He forced himself to meet Data's gaze again, grounding both of them.
"I just..." Geordi said, voice dropping even lower, "I need to know you want this, Data. Not just that your body’s reacting but that you want it. That you’re choosing this. This is not something friends usually do, this is, um… intimate."
Data’s lips parted. For a moment, he seemed lost and overwhelmed by sensation, systems struggling to keep pace with emotion.
But then, with almost heart-breaking clarity, he nodded once, slow and certain.
"I wish to continue," he said softly. "I wish to explore this... with you."
Something in Geordi broke loose at the words in a wild, giddy rush of feeling. Affection, longing and awe balling up together and hitting him like a runaway starship.
"Okay," he whispered back, smiling despite the ache in his chest. "Okay, Data. I’ve got you."
He smoothed his hands more confidently along the open edges of the chest panel, tracing the wiring, the synthetic musculature, the energy conduits that pulsed warmly against his fingertips.
Data shuddered violently, hips lifting slightly off the table as another moan tore free. Helpless, shameless now.
Geordi worked carefully but deliberately, fingertips skimming across sensitive internal structures, finding the pathways that made Data’s breath catch, that made his golden eyes flutter closed again, bliss written across every line of his perfect, trembling frame.
The table creaked under Data’s grip again as he arched toward the contact, desperate for more, the heat rolling off him in palpable waves now, lighting him up inside like a living star.
And Geordi, God, Geordi couldn’t look away. Couldn’t breathe for how beautiful he was like this undone, radiant, and completely at his mercy.
He had both hands braced against the open seams of Data’s chest now, fingertips sunk deep into the exposed internals, probing along circuits, checking connection points. It was automatic, half-forgotten motions burned into him by years of diagnostic work.
Check alignment. Check continuity. Confirm structural integrity.
It was pure muscle memory. His brain wasn’t really in it, definitely not like it should have been. Because he couldn’t, couldn't take his eyes off Data’s face.
Data, sprawled across the table, panting in short, shuddering breaths he didn’t even need. Data, white-golden skin flushed with internal heat, trembling under every slight movement of Geordi’s fingers. His eyes glassy and wide, mouth open on soft, desperate little whimpers.
Geordi swallowed hard, his throat working around a groan he barely managed to keep inside.
God, he thought, dizzy, if anyone walked in right now...
From the outside, it had to look obscene. Geordi's hand buried wrist-deep in Data's open chest, the android writhing and gasping under his touch. The heavy sounds of breath and the faint creak of strained metal filling the diagnostic room.
He should have pulled back. Should have kept it clinical. Instead, he found himself leaning in even closer, watching Data's every shiver and twitch with rapt attention, wanting to see what else he could draw out.
He shifted his hand slightly, fingers brushing deeper along the internal conduits, feeling the slick smoothness of synthetic fibre-wrapped nerves, the responsive flex of servos and pseudo-muscle.
And when his fingertips grazed a particular cluster, a tight knot of sensory relay lines near the core of Data, his whole body jerked.
A sharp, broken noise tore from him. Not quite a cry, not quite a moan, and then he begged.
"Th–there," Data gasped, voice fraying to near static. "Please, please Geordi... th–there...!"
The sound of his own name on Data’s lips, said like that. Raw, pleading and needy, hit Geordi like a physical blow.
He sucked in a breath, chest tight with the force of it, and pressed his hand more firmly against the sensitive node, circling it carefully with his fingers.
Data let out a helpless, shuddering whimper, hips shifting off the table again, grinding instinctively into the air, his whole body strung tight as wire.
"Yeah," Geordi whispered, his voice breaking. "Right there, huh? That’s the spot... does it feel good?"
Data could only nod frantically, words failing him now, reduced to ragged little moans that spilled out unchecked and utterly vulnerable.
Geordi leaned over him, close enough now that their faces were only inches apart, he took one hand and moved it to cradle the back of Data’s head, fingers threading into the silky artificial hair.
"You’re doing so good," Geordi murmured, almost reverent. "You don’t have to hold anything back. I’ve got you. I’m right here."
Data whimpered again, his internal energy fields visibly surging through his body, a golden glow trembling through the exposed circuitry and across his skin.
Under Geordi's steady, careful touch, Data opened, body and mind, helplessly, gloriously, overwhelmed by sensation he was only beginning to understand.
And Geordi, pretty helpless himself now, was desperate to be the one to teach him. To guide him. To give him everything he was asking for.
He bent his head lower, his breath ghosting warm across Data's parted lips, his hand still moving deep inside, still coaxing trembling pleasure from him with every careful, focused brush of his fingers.
God, Geordi thought again, as Data gasped and shuddered beneath him, what have we started?
But he already knew. And he wouldn't stop. Not unless Data asked him to. Not ever.
Geordi’s hand worked steadily inside Data’s chest, fingertips caressing the trembling knot of sensory relays again and again.
Every pass sent a visible shudder through Data’s body, another low, broken moan escaping him. Helpless and beautiful.
Nothing short from a red alert could get Geordi to stop. He couldn’t look away from the miracle unravelling under his hands.
"You’re so good," Geordi murmured, almost to himself, voice raw with awe, "So good for me, Data. You're doing so well... so beautiful."
He pressed his hand deeper, thumb stroking gently across the hypersensitive cluster inside, and Data sobbed, a high, keening sound, his head tossing back helplessly against the table.
The glow of his energy fields pulsed wildly now, wrapping him in a halo of light that only Geordi, through his VISOR, could see. A living, radiant storm of gold and amber and shimmering warmth.
Geordi’s heart twisted painfully in his chest.
He'd always known, always felt, that Data was something beyond ordinary comprehension. Not just an android. Not just a machine.
He was a creation born of the purest collaboration between science and art, a being crafted with such impossible skill and care that it defied all reason.
If angels were real, if the universe had ever birthed anything truly sacred, Geordi thought with certainty that they would look like this.
Like him. Data.
"God, you’re beautiful," Geordi whispered, awe-struck. His hand, the one not buried inside Data’s trembling, perfect body, moved without thinking, smoothing gently over Data’s flushed cheek, fingertips tracing the strong, elegant line of his jaw.
"I've never seen anyone so beautiful."
Data whimpered at the touch, pressing unconsciously into Geordi’s hand like a cat seeking affection, like he couldn't get close enough.
"You’re perfect," Geordi said, voice breaking slightly. "You hear me, Data? You’re perfect."
Another deep brush across the sensory knot another shattered moan from Data, hips rocking against invisible touch, hands scrabbling against the battered edge of the diagnostic table.
He was shaking now, trembling with so much stimulation, so much pleasure, that he couldn't contain it, couldn't process it, and still Geordi praised him, worshipped him, holding him tenderly even as he dug deeper.
"That's it," Geordi whispered, leaning close, forehead almost resting against Data’s. "Let it happen. Let it all out."
Data sobbed again, clinging blindly to Geordi’s wrist as if anchoring himself in the sea of sensation, golden eyes wide and wet and utterly open.
He looked at Geordi like he was the only solid thing in the universe.
Data clung to Geordi's wrist, his fingers trembling where they grasped the warm flesh, anchoring himself as wave after wave of sensation crashed over him.
He was so close, perched on some terrifying, brilliant precipice he had no words for, no programming for, and he could feel it building inside him like a warp core reactor overload.
His internal systems flickered, momentarily overwhelmed, as his sensory network surged hotter and hotter.
And still Geordi touched him, his hand steady and sure, thumb stroking across that overloaded knot deep inside him. Geordi continued to speak to him, low and steady in his ear.
"That's it, buddy," Geordi whispered, voice like velvet, "You're doing so good. You're perfect.”
The words wrapped around Data tighter than any physical restraint, sinking into his neural pathways, into his very core. They made him want to melt, to give in completely, to be what Geordi saw, to please him, to be worthy of this attention, this reverence.
A shuddering whimper broke from him, helpless and raw.
"I... I want to," Data gasped, voice fragmented with static. "I wish to... to continue to be... g-good for you..."
"You are," Geordi said fiercely, hand sliding along the delicate internal structures, pressing with just the right pressure. "You are good. You’re incredible. Just hold on for me, Data. Just a little more."
Data writhed under him, unable to stop, his artificial skin beading with manufactured moisture in a desperate attempt to regulate the heat. He could feel his systems bottlenecking, every sensory channel screaming, the simulation of pleasure cresting so high it threatened to break him.
And yet, he hadn't tipped over yet.
He hovered there, helpless, balanced on the knife’s edge of release, terror and longing warring in his chest.
His mind fragmented into bright, breathless pieces.
I cannot process this—
I require it—
I fear it—
I crave it—
Geordi— Geordi— please—
But his body wouldn’t let go. It held him suspended, aching for something he couldn't even fully understand.
And through it all, Geordi stayed with him. Murmuring praise, grounding him, coaxing him with devastating gentleness.
"You’re so close," Geordi breathed, forehead resting against Data's temple now, their shared warmth almost blinding. "You’re almost there. You’re doing amazing.
I’ve got you.”
Data's hands slipped down from Geordi’s wrist to clutch his shoulders instead, pulling him closer, seeking him with frantic urgency, every processor screaming for contact, for more.
Geordi shifted, adjusting his angle, slipping his hand just a little deeper inside, fingertips massaging that screaming, overloaded node with exquisite precision.
Data screamed then, broken sound, but still, somehow, did not fall.
He was caught. Trapped at the very apex of sensation, trembling like a live wire coursing with ten-thousand volts, burning and incandescent with need.
Geordi pulled him closer still, wrapping his arms around him, body against body now, whispering promises and comfort against Data’s fever-hot skin.
"I’m here," Geordi said, his voice cracking with emotion. "I’m right here. You’re not alone. Come on. Let go for me."
And Data, his body shaking, heart hammering against the open cavity of his chest, golden eyes shining with overwhelmed devotion, wanted nothing more than to obey.
Data shattered.
There was no other word for it.
With a sharp, strangled cry that broke into static midway, his body convulsed, arching hard against Geordi's hands, and then collapsed, trembling, limp against the diagnostic table.
Geordi watched as his eyes rolled back, the gold of his irises disappearing into the whites as his internal processors faltered under the onslaught.
A mechanical stutter broke from his throat, sharp, choppy and glitching. A desperate, uncontrolled sound of overwhelmed vocal units trying to process more than they could handle.
It should have sounded wrong. It was a glitch, a flaw, a system failure.
But to Geordi, it was the most beautiful, obscenely sexy thing he had ever heard.
He watched, transfixed, as Data's entire body seized once more. His artificial muscles locking for a split second before releasing again, limbs falling open and boneless, shuddering with small aftershocks.
The diagnostic table groaned under the strain, metal dented and twisted where Data’s hands had gripped too hard during his climax.
And through his VISOR, Geordi could see it all. The wild, chaotic surges of energy crackling through Data’s body, the brilliant flare of golden light that encircled his skin, the intense heat pouring off him in visible waves.
Data was absolutely wrecked, panting now, too overloaded to make proper words, lips parted, chest heaving as his systems desperately tried to recalibrate.
And Geordi, well, Geordi was desperate too.
Hard and aching, trapped painfully against the fabric of his uniform trousers, his pulse was pounding in every inch of his body.
He had never seen anything so goddamn beautiful.
Not in all the stars he had ever charted. Not in all the alien wonders he'd ever encountered.
Nothing compared to this. To Data, the perfect, unflappable, untouchable Data, undone, lost to pleasure, his body still twitching with the aftermath, golden skin glowing hot under Geordi’s hands.
"Jesus, Data..." Geordi breathed hoarsely, still cradling him, still half-buried in the open warmth of his chest.
He pressed a shaking hand against Data’s cheek, feeling the tremors running under the artificial flesh, the chaotic flutter of his internal fans spinning wildly in an attempt to cool his overheated systems.
"You’re..." Geordi’s voice cracked, reverent and aching, "You’re incredible."
Data's eyelids fluttered weakly, the golden irises reappearing as he struggled back to some semblance of consciousness, confusion and wonder written all over his slack, blissed-out face.
He looked totally wrecked, and it was the most breath-taking thing Geordi had ever seen.
Still half-lost in the haze of climax, Data whimpered faintly, trying to focus on him, reaching out clumsily with one trembling hand.
Geordi caught it immediately, twining their fingers together, grounding him, anchoring him with touch and his presence.
"I’ve got you," Geordi whispered fiercely, leaning down so their foreheads pressed together, sharing breath and heat. "I’m right here. You’re safe."
Data shuddered again, a soft whine escaping him, and Geordi swore he would do anything to keep him safe, to keep him feeling this good.
Slowly, carefully, Geordi began to withdraw his hand from Data’s open chest.
And all the while, he kept murmuring to him, praise and promises, words of comfort and devotion spilling unchecked from his lips.
"You were perfect," Geordi whispered, voice breaking with the force of it. "So good, so beautiful. You did so good for me."
Data’s hand tightened weakly in his, the only answer he could manage for now.
And Geordi, heart full to bursting, pressed a trembling kiss to Data’s temple, vowing silently that he would be there every time, every step, for as long as Data needed him.
For a long moment, there was nothing but silence.
Data lay utterly still, chest cavity still open to the air, internal servos humming weakly as his systems struggled to reboot in stages.
The diagnostic table, battered under him, creaked softly with every tiny tremor that still rippled through his frame.
He felt…
He felt good.
No, more than good. Something beyond language, beyond what his programming was capable of comprehending.
Warmth suffused every inch of him, a golden flood that made him feel heavier than gravity should allow, soft and molten, as if he might sink right through the table and into the stars.
He had never imagined sensation could be like this. Never thought he, an artificial construct, could be brought to such exquisite ruin.
His processors reeled at the memory. The pleasure, the helpless surrender, the sound of Geordi's voice holding him safe through it all.
Despite the complete short-circuit of his vocal centres, despite the slight lag in his motor functions and the scattered warnings flashing across his internal diagnostics. He had never felt so alive.
Above him, Geordi moved carefully, hands slow and steady as he gently realigned the edges of Data’s open chest panel, guiding the nearly invisible seams back into place with reverent fingers.
"Easy," Geordi murmured, voice low and soothing as he worked. "You're okay. You did amazing."
His thumb brushed lightly along the edge of the synthetic skin, a feather-gentle caress, almost like a kiss.
"Just relax, baby... I've got you."
The endearment seemed to slip out, soft and unthinking, so natural Geordi didn’t even seem to notice.
But Data did.
Even through the slow storm of his rebooting systems, even through the exhausted haze that wrapped his mind, he heard it.
Baby.
A term of intimacy.
Of possession.
Of affection.
For him.
And something inside Data flared, a fresh surge of warmth, brighter and purer than any pleasure before. He was wanted. Cherished. Not as a mere project, not as a curiosity, but as someone precious to Geordi.
A soft, breathy sound escaped his throat, but not a glitch this time, something closer to a sigh, full of unguarded, stunned happiness.
He shifted slightly under Geordi’s hands, turning his face toward the engineer, golden eyes wide and shining, full of a wonder.
Geordi paused, sensing the shift, and glanced down at him. And the smile that bloomed across his face was so full of warmth, so full of love, it made Data’s newly-rebooted heart skip a synthetic beat.
"There you are," Geordi whispered, leaning in close, his forehead nearly touching Data’s. " You back with me?"
Data’s lips parted, his vocal processors still flickering weakly, but he managed a tiny, shaky nod.
It took several long moments, but eventually Data’s systems stabilized enough for him to shift, joints creaking faintly as he pushed himself upright on the battered diagnostic table.
His chest panel was sealed now, though the skin around it still felt hypersensitive. Every move felt languid and heavy. But sweet too, a residual echo of pleasure still humming under his skin.
And when he looked up and really looked at Geordi another kind of electricity flared through him.
Geordi was a mess.
Beautiful, flushed, breathing hard, his uniform jacket rumpled and clinging to damp skin. And his trousers… Data’s eyes dropped, shamelessly observant, immediately noting the pronounced, urgent bulge straining against the fabric.
His positronic pathways fired brighter, faster. Not with confusion now. A purpose.
Geordi was aroused. Because of him.
A slow, sly smile began to curl at the edges of Data's mouth, the first sign that his famous sharpness, his clever, insatiable drive, was coming back online.
He tilted his head slightly, studying Geordi like a fascinating new equation. His tongue darted out unconsciously to wet his lips. He startled faintly at the flood of bio-lubricant that rushed into his mouth in response.
Another autonomous reaction. An automatic, instinctive preparation, the prelude to tasting.
The thought burned through him, short-circuiting the last of his hesitation.
He wanted, no, needed to taste Geordi. To touch him. To make him feel even a fraction of the pleasure he had so selflessly given.
The desire was not clinical, not calculated, but hungry, urgent, a living thing inside him.
Geordi seemed frozen under his gaze, eyes wide behind his VISOR, clearly trying and failing to keep himself in check.
Data’s voice, when it finally returned, was lower than usual, still a little rough around the edges, but threaded with unmistakable intent.
"You appear..." He paused, letting his gaze deliberately drift lower again, "... to be in need of diagnostic attention yourself, Commander La Forge."
Geordi choked on a laugh, part embarrassment, part pure want.
"Data, you don’t have to,” he started, voice rougher than Data had ever heard it.
But Data was already sliding gracefully off the table, closing the distance between them with that uncanny, fluid precision that was uniquely his.
"I want to," Data said simply, voice humming with certainty.
He stopped just inches from Geordi, looking at him through his lashes in a way that was almost devastatingly human — golden eyes dark with something hungry.
"If you will permit me," he added, the barest tease slipping into his tone, "I would very much like to reciprocate the... diagnostics... you so generously provided."
His hand, cool but steady now, lifted to rest against Geordi's heaving chest. Feeling the frantic pound of his heart through the fabric and the promise of more lingered heavy between them.
Data's mouth parted slightly, a little panting breath escaping and his biolubricant-slick tongue brushed his lower lip again, an unmistakable invitation.
Geordi looked like he was about to self-combust.
Data moved with a grace that was almost unbearable to watch. Every line of his body singing with purpose as he slowly, reverently, sank down to his knees before Geordi.
Not a stumble, not a hesitation. It was akin to a prayer. A solemn offering at the altar of the one being who had given him such impossible joy. The one he cherished above all others.
Golden eyes lifted to meet Geordi’s face. Molten and shining, burning with devotion so fierce it left Geordi breathless.
For a moment, Geordi could only stand there, trembling, fists clenching at his sides, chest heaving with the force of the emotion crashing over him.
Data reached up, steady, and placed his hands on Geordi’s hips, fingers curving naturally around the sharp lines of bone beneath the fabric.
And then, Oh god.
Then his hands slid lower, cradling Geordi’s ass in firm, possessive palms, holding him steady. Supporting him.
Geordi’s knees nearly buckled, a harsh, broken noise escaping his throat.
Data’s strength was absolute and immovable. Even gentle as he was, there was no mistaking the raw, easy power under those perfect hands. He could hold Geordi up effortlessly. Could keep him safe even as he was completely falling apart.
The thought, the trust implicit in that touch made Geordi even harder, if that were possible, his erection straining desperately against the confines of his uniform trousers.
"Data..." he rasped, one hand fumbling out to thread through the android’s silky, now deliciously tousled hair, needing something to hold onto, to anchor him to reality.
Data leaned into the touch shamelessly, almost nuzzling into Geordi’s palm, his pale eyelids fluttering low in pleasure.
"You are shaking," Data murmured softly, almost clinically, but the tiny, wicked curve of his lips betrayed his growing confidence, the way he was starting to enjoy the effect he had.
"Allow me to assist you, Geordi."
Geordi made a sound, something between a laugh and a moan, and dropped both hands to Data’s shoulders, gripping hard enough to feel the solid, reassuring strength beneath the uniform.
"Data, baby... you're gonna be the death of me," he managed, voice thick with emotion, desire, awe.
Data's little smirk deepened. He was smug as he maneuvered Geordi up against the wall of the diagnostic room, and slowly began to work at the fastening of Geordi's trousers, his fingers maddeningly precise even as they trembled faintly with anticipation.
Every movement was deliberate, a silent act of worship.
Every brush of his fingertips against Geordi’s overheated skin sent fresh sparks racing up Geordi’s spine.
And when Data finally freed him, when the hard, desperate length of him sprang free into the cool air, Data made a curious sound low in his throat.
He looked up at Geordi again, hands still firm on his hips, supporting him like a knight kneeling before his king.
"You are very beautiful," Data said simply, like it was an incontrovertible fact of the universe. "I wish to make you feel as you made me feel."
And then, without waiting, he leaned in. His perfect mouth open, breath cool and trembling, tongue darting out eagerly to taste.
Geordi had seen Data hyperfocus before. Had seen that brilliant, buzzing mind lock onto a puzzle, a problem, a mission. Tireless, relentless and unstoppable.
It was awe-inspiring then. But now, now all that staggering processing power and steady devotion to a task done well was turned toward him.
Toward the single-minded goal of making Geordi feel good.
And Geordi could barely stand it.
The moment Data’s mouth closed around him, surprisingly hot, slick and shockingly skilled, Geordi let out a helpless, broken cry. Head falling back against the wall, fists clenching so hard in Data’s hair he was half afraid he’d hurt him, although reasonably he knew that was impossible.
But Data only made a soft, pleased hum around him. The sound vibrated down Geordi’s length and made his knees buckle. Then he settled into the task with terrifying, breath-taking focus.
And god, he was good.
Too good.
Unfairly, inhumanly good.
Data didn’t fumble. Didn’t hesitate. Every flick of his tongue, every slow, careful slide of his lips was precise and exploratory. He rapidly gathered data, gauged reactions, and refined his technique in real time.
Geordi realised, through the fog of pleasure clouding his mind, that Data was probably cross-referencing information. Accessing everything he’d ever read, ever learned, ever downloaded about human pleasure and was now applying it in perfect, devastating accuracy.
A perfect, unstoppable engine of pleasure. Data was hungry for it. Excruciatingly eager to please, eager to learn, eager to worship.
Data hollowed his cheeks, drawing Geordi deeper, taking him in a way no organic being could. There was no gag reflex, no need to breathe, just endless, boundless desire to bring Geordi to the heights of ecstasy.
Geordi sobbed out a curse, one hand scrabbling blindly at the wall for support as his hips jerked helplessly forward.
But Data was ready for him. His steady, grounding, hands still firm and supportive on Geordi’s hips and ass, holding him up, anchoring him even as he was swept away.
Golden eyes fluttered open, locking onto Geordi’s through the haze and the look there was enough to undo him.
Worship.
Devotion.
Love.
Data was happy, gloriously, vibrantly alive giving this to him, for him.
Geordi felt his release building impossibly fast, every nerve ending burning white-hot, his whole-body straining toward the inevitable end.
"Baby, baby," he gasped, hips stuttering, "Data, I’m… I’m not gonna,"
But Data only redoubled his efforts. Humming softly, encouragingly. Clearly wanting Geordi to lose control, wanting to bring him to the same heights of intense pleasure he’d brought Data.
And when Geordi finally fell apart. When he came with a wrecked, desperate cry, clutching Data’s head like a lifeline. Data took all of it, swallowed him down greedily, never faltering and never pulling away.
The moment Geordi's body gave out completely, Data was there, his strong hands catching him under the arms and carefully guiding him down to the floor.
It was almost absurd, how gentle he was. How much care he took easing Geordi’s boneless, shuddering form into a sitting position, propping him against the bulkhead like he was the most precious thing in the universe.
Geordi couldn't even form words yet, still gasping, blinking rapidly behind his VISOR as the world slowly stopped spinning.
He vaguely felt Data tugging at his uniform trousers, deft fingers refastening them with a precise, almost prim efficiency like he was closing up a delicate experiment.
It was so absurdly domestic that Geordi barked a hoarse, hysterical laugh, dropping his head back against the wall.
And then, as if to completely destroy him, Data sat back on his heels, tilting his head in that infuriatingly curious way of his, and announced in his calm, matter-of-fact tone.
"Your seminal fluid has a complex chemical profile. High concentrations of sodium, fructose, and trace minerals... It is palatable."
Geordi groaned, dragging his hands over his burning face.
"Data," he mumbled through his fingers, voice wrecked with mortification and lingering pleasure, "you cannot just say stuff like that."
"Why not?" Data asked innocently, edging closer until their knees brushed. "It is factual. And you appeared to appreciate the results."
Geordi peeked at him through his fingers and nearly lost it again at the sight of Data, still slightly flushed, hair mussed, his golden eyes glowing with smug, utterly unrepentant satisfaction.
God. His best friend. His senior officer. Perfect, rule-following, painfully proper Data had just sucked him off like a starved man in the middle of engineering. Whilst On duty. Without so much as blinking.
If someone had told him this morning that he’d be coming down his best friend's throat before lunch break, Geordi would’ve marched them straight to sickbay for a full psychological evaluation.
Yet here he was. And he had never felt happier.
He started laughing, helpless, giddy, joyous laughter bubbling out of him until he was wheezing, eyes wet under his VISOR.
Data just watched him, head cocked, an almost pleased expression tugging at his mouth.
After a moment, Data shifted even closer, one hand reaching out tentative, reverent to rest on Geordi’s shoulder.
"You are pleased," he said softly, a note of wonder threading his voice.
Geordi leaned into the touch instinctively, sobering a little, his heart thudding painfully in his chest.
"Yeah," he rasped, covering Data's hand with his own, squeezing gently. "Yeah, baby. I’m real pleased."
He smiled crookedly wide and stupid and so in love he could hardly stand it.
"You," he added, giving Data’s hand another squeeze, "are the best damn thing that’s ever happened to me."
Data’s hand moved to Geordi’s face, his thumb brushed softly against Geordi’s cheek, as if memorizing the texture of his skin, slow and reverent.
He was silent for a moment, studying Geordi with those impossibly earnest golden eyes, his brow furrowing slightly as if puzzling out the proper protocol for what came next.
Then his voice low, soft, almost shy, Data asked, "Geordi… does this mean we are now in a romantic relationship?"
It was asked with such cautious hope, such fragile yearning hidden just beneath the formal phrasing, that it nearly broke Geordi's heart wide open.
For all his confidence in so many areas, Data was desperate for the answer. It was written all over him, in the faint tremor of his hand, the uncharacteristic tightness of his jaw, the way he held so still, like the wrong response might shatter him completely.
Geordi swallowed hard against the sudden, aching lump in his throat.
He reached up, gently, and cupped the back of Data's neck, drawing him a little closer until their foreheads touched a quiet, tender press of skin to skin.
"You want that?" he whispered, heart hammering against his ribs like it wanted to leap out and into Data’s hands.
"I want nothing more," came Data’s tremulous reply.
Data exhaled. A soft, trembling breath that sounded almost like a sob. His hand slid from Geordi’s cheek to tangle clumsily in the front of his uniform, anchoring himself like he was afraid Geordi might disappear if he didn't hold on.
"I have desired closeness with you for some time," Data admitted, voice almost breaking with the intensity of it. "You are the being I feel most connected to in the entire universe."
Geordi let out a shaky laugh, equal parts wonder and disbelief, grinning so hard his cheeks hurt.
"Baby," he said, voice thick with love and amazement, "you already had me. A long time ago."
He tilted his head slightly, brushing his nose against Data’s in a clumsy, affectionate nuzzle.
"And now?" he murmured, breath warm against Data’s mouth. "Now you’ve got all of me."
Data blinked at him, golden eyes luminous, glowing with such pure joy that Geordi thought he might come apart all over again. And then Data leaned in, tentative and trembling, and kissed him.
Their mouths bumped awkwardly at first, a little too hard, a little too desperate but neither of them cared.
It was perfect.
Sweet and messy and overwhelming, a flood of emotion and relief and love crashing through them both as they clung to each other on the floor of the diagnostic room.
After a long, blissful minute of simply clinging to each other, Geordi gently pulled back, giving Data a fond, almost shy smile.
"Come on," he murmured, nudging him lightly. "We should probably, uh... make ourselves look a little less wrecked before someone comes looking."
Data nodded, serious as ever though his eyes were still glowing warmly. A sparkle of mischief deep within the golden disks.
He rose gracefully to his feet, offering Geordi a hand to pull him up as well. For a moment, they simply stood there, breathing each other in. And then Data started fussing with his uniform shirt, hiding his beautiful white-gold skin again.
As he smoothed his rumpled shirt and refastened the few undone closures, he caught sight of the diagnostic table behind him, the one he'd been gripping during everything.
He froze.
The edge of the table was visibly warped, thick titanium alloy bent and dented under the pressure of Data’s convulsing grip.
Data’s face, normally so composed, went comically blank with horror.
"I appear to have compromised the structural integrity of Starfleet property," he said stiffly.
Geordi, already laughing as he straightened his own uniform, waved a hand airily.
"Hell, I should be upset about the damage but making you so crazy you crush a titanium table is really feeding my ego.”
Data blinked at him, expression cycling rapidly through embarrassment, confusion and then, without warning, settling into something else entirely.
Satisfaction.
He straightened his spine, his chin tipping up just a little.
"In that case," he said with no preamble whatsoever, "I would like to officially inform you, Geordi, that the experience between us constituted the singular most intense and exhilarating moment of my existence since my initial activation."
Geordi just stared at him for a beat completely bowled over by the bald, matter-of-fact sincerity.
And then he was laughing again that deep, helpless, in love kind of laughter. His heart feeling like it might burst out of his chest from sheer, overwhelming joy.
"Well, damn," he said, still a little breathless, "be careful or my big-head won’t fit out of the door."
He reached out, tugging Data gently toward him by the front of his uniform.
"And, for the record?" he said, voice dropping low and honest, "That was the best sex I've ever had, too."
Data tilted his head, visibly processing this. Geordi could almost see the spark of delighted mischief and smugness light up behind his eyes.
"I deduce," Data said, a little too innocently, "that we are exceptionally compatible."
Geordi chuckled, slipping his arms around Data's waist, still marvelling that he could, that Data was his to hold now.
Data’s arms came up automatically, enveloping Geordi in a careful, steady hug with no hesitation or awkwardness.
"Yeah, baby," he said, pressing a quick, tender kiss to the corner of Data’s mouth. "You and me? We're something special."