multifandom oneshots/preferences

lxxi. after hours--wesley crusher (star trek:tng)

Your art teacher went home something like two hours ago on the pretense that you'd only stay in her room for less than another hour after she left. 

Oops...you lost track of time. It's about 7:45 in the evening now.

Whatever, you needed this time to get some work done anyway. It's hard to do printmaking when the only printmaking equipment you've got in your dorm is your little linoleum carving tool. 

Plus, it's an incredible environment to be alone in the entire art room (probably the entire building) with the lights dimmed and your music playing. You can spread your art supplies, reference books, and your PADD around the desk as much as you want with no complaints. This printmaking project you're doing is a huge undertaking and it's been a productive night, even if your hands are aching from all the carving and drawing.

As you're working, you hear the door shuffle open and a guy step in with a little "Hello?"

"Hm?" you look up from your block of linoleum to see a classmate from your art history class. "Hey, computer--turn my music down."

Your music goes from almost blaring to quiet background noise as you greet your new companion. 

"You're Wesley Crusher, right? What are you doing here this late?" you ask. You've taken almost every art class that the Starfleet Academy has to offer and yet you've never seen him in this building except for your shared class. 

"Yeah, Y/n, right? Uh, I like to some here to get some homework done after hours here sometimes because no one really patrols this building. What are you doing here?" Wesley asks, laying his books and PADD down on a table next to yours before approaching you.

"An art assignment. I like staying here after hours too," you smile a bit. 

"Whoa! This is amazing," Wesley gapes as he looks at your piece. It's a 1 by 1.5 foot linocut of skeletons dancing in a centuries old medieval style. 

You smile. "Thank you."

"I don't know how art people do it. I can't do art, I wish I could," Wesley watches carefully as you keep carving into the linoleum with careful, controlled motions.

"That's not true, anyone can do art. It's just a skill and a craft you need to learn and practice," you look up at him and chuckle softly at how mesmerized he is.

"But I can't do it like you do. You're like a natural."

You quirk an eyebrow and think for a second as you keep pushing the carver through the block. 

"I'm not good at theoretical math and physics," you say. 

"How? It's just a set of formulas and skills to learn. It's totally not beyond your capabilities...," Wesley trails off as he notices you smiling at him, realizing what you've done. "Okay..."

"I'm mostly just giving you a hard time, but my point still stands. I promise you, I'm literally in the most advanced art class the Academy offers and none of us in the class feel like good artists most of the time. We live and breathe imposter syndrome."

"I have no idea how you do," your companion rests his head on his hand as he keeps watching you. 

"I think we all compare ourselves far too much," you reply. "If I could change it for us I would."

With a few more swipes, you're done with the linocut. 

"Alright, that's it!" you smile down at your work. 

"Wow," Wesley admires it, studying every inch of the linoleum. "It's incredible. Are you done now?"

"I've still got a few more things to do. This is a printmaking stamp, actually. I'm going to roll ink onto it, then press it onto special printmaking paper," you explain, moving over to another desk where you've set up a glass palette, a roller, a few paper towels, and the printing ink. 

"So how long will that take?" the boy follows you, leaning on the opposite side of the table as you scoop out some ink with a palette knife, then roll it out into a thin layer on the palette. 

"Depends on how well the prints turn out. I'm not sure what kind of pressure I need to use, since I've never done a print this size and I've also never used this kind of paper before. It's made with Aldean plant fibers instead of regular trees, so I have no idea how it'll even react to the ink. It could be another hour before I'm all the way done," you answer. "Can you grab the linoleum?"

"Yeah, sure," Wesley quickly paces over the table and carefully brings the plate over, gingerly placing it on the table next to you before moving across from you again, pulling a stool out and sitting down. 

"You don't have to stay the whole time, y'know," you chuckle.

"I've got nothing else going on," your companion shrugs. "I've been meaning to talk to you more, anyway."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, I have a bit of a hard time in art history and you're always on top of it, I have no idea how."

"I hope so," you laugh. "I want to be a ship's cultural officer or counselor. I know it's lofty, but like half the job is art history and anthropology."

"That's pretty cool! I need quite a bit of help in that, to be honest."

You and Wesley keep talking for a while as you roll the ink over the linoleum and prep the roller press on the other side of the room. 

"This is the bit I'm really scared about," you mutter as you gently place the stamp on the paper, then put the felt fabric on top of the stamp. You start to roll it through, noticing about a quarter of the way through the pressure is too much and you cannot roll it any more. "Shit."

"What's up?"

"I need to adjust the pressure on the roller. I've never done this before...I hope I don't break it," you chuckle as you turn a little key on each side of the roller as you've seen your teacher do before. "Hell yeah, it's working."

You start to roll the print through again, unveiling it with no suspense when it's done. 

"Hmm," you give the print a quizzical look. 

"...what's wrong with it?" Wesley inquires quietly. 

"I don't like how much it's bleeding, and the pressure was obviously too much. Maybe the spreading will reduce if I keep the pressure pretty low," you muse, leaving the paper on the table as you go back to the roller press to adjust the pressure. 

You try again 4 more times, even leaving the room to go on a side quest for a different kind of paper, and all through it, Wesley doesn't leave. He stays with you and talks to you, keeping you company. It's honestly endearing. He's pretty cool, too. So much more interesting than the one dimensional prodigy people talk about him being. He's genuinely kind and passionate about what he loves. 

A little voice in the back of your head mutters that he's cute, too. You're not sure how much you're embracing that voice's opinion. 

Regardless, once you've left the art building with him and go your separate ways, you smile to yourself knowing that you've got at the very least a new friend. 

...

"Wes, where've you been?" Dr. Crusher paces up to Wesley as he finally comes back to the shared quarters.

"Doing some homework," Wesley says. 

"For four hours?" the doctor raises an eyebrow. 

"...The first two," he admits as he stalks toward his bedroom to drop his stuff off, hoping his mom doesn't notice the blush scratching at his face. "Unrelated...how do I ask someone out?"

Beverly simply smiles.

...

last wesley one for a bit. i've got kind of a vague idea for a counselor troi one, and plenty of drafts for slipknot and even ghost. 

also, avengers and star trek crossover, anyone? 

i've got a ton of ideas that aren't bad but i'm having trouble actually writing out, so thanks for all your patience! 

thank you so much for reading <3