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Garak watched Julian walk briskly away after their lunch at the replimat, off to his shift in the infirmary, and he firmly plastered a mild smile onto his face. He folded his hands on the table, shoulders carefully relaxed. He remained unruffled, at least on the outside.
Inside, an inferno of desire and need raged. Their latest literary debate had been so utterly infuriating, thrilling in its intensity. He had been worried, but their verbal debates had not suffered at all for the months he'd been away in the disappointingly boring (and terrifyingly tiny) Federation prison cell. With nothing to distract him in his solitude, his thoughts had veered dangerously towards the doctor and he'd been entirely unsuccessful at avoiding them. The time apart had done nothing but stoke the fires of desire inside Garak, and he'd latched onto the thoughts to distract from the seemingly endless confinement. For six months, he'd wanted fruitlessly, imagining what he could not have. And even now, with his renewed proximity, he wanted the dear doctor so badly.
Not that Julian would ever know. Because Garak was so very good at maintaining an air of cordiality and polite aloofness.
And still, he yearned.
Garak craved the solace of the wire yet again, its absence constantly gnawing under his skin, resurging every time he wished for oblivion. It had been so much easier to exist in the same space as Julian when he could fall back into the wire's numbing bliss. Now, his feelings for Julian clawed at him, threatening to pull him under.
Not for the first time, he wondered why he held himself back.
He knew he could have the doctor, so easily. And he was not above such things, not opposed to nurturing the more physical aspects of relationships. Certainly, Tain had taught him that his body was a formidable tool and he had been trained to use every tool at his disposal. He had done used that tool before without qualms. It would not even be difficult to convince the doctor.
Julian was so easy to excite, after all, a willing participant in every venture he suggested. He had been so beautifully responsive to Garak since their first meeting, flustered and receptive, not even seeming to care that Garak was hardly the epitome of physical fitness and not at all similar to the kinds of people he normally went for. It would be all too easy for Garak to say a few choice words, tilt his head just so, allow his body language to convey his interest in a way that even a human would understand. He had no doubt that Julian would be enticed, at least for a night. Garak was good at his craft, trained to exquisite perfection to get whatever he desired for the good of Cardassia.
Still. He had not been able to quite convince himself that seducing a Federation doctor was essential for the future of Cardassia. Not when Julian was so frustratingly open and willing to share his secrets without requiring even the slightest bit of Garak's extensive training. Their lunch meetings provided him with all the intelligence he could ever need.
He privately wished Julian would hold something back so he would have some excuse to pry, to invade, to take what he desired so very much. Alas. Garak was not so lucky.
Julian turned around just before exiting the replimat to smile at him, so bright and so open. A man with no wiles or secrets buried deep inside.
Garak kept his placid smile from slipping even a little even as his heart yearned once more.
Julian walked away, out of sight, and Garak wondered if Tain would be proud of him for his self-discipline.
It was entirely shameful, but Garak had not noticed that Julian was not Julian. Certainly, he should have noticed the signs. And he had noticed something, if not enough. He had noticed Julian's fewer open smiles, his more subdued responses, the subtlest chill to his tone on one or two occasions. In hindsight, Garak should have wondered when Julian invited Ziyal to more and more of their lunches, preventing them from a proper literary discussion.
His foolish explanation to himself for Julian's chilliness had been jealousy. He'd somewhat hoped that Julian had been a little jealous of his friendship with Ziyal even as he encouraged their relationship. It had even warmed him, just a little, that the dear doctor cared enough to help him connect with a fellow Cardassian, despite his subtly conveyed misgivings. A perfectly logical, if embarassingly incorrect assumption.
Still, he should have at least considered the possibility that something was wrong when the wrong Julian did not jump at the idea of an adventure with Garak and when he remained complacent as Captain Sisko ordered him to remain on the station. Julian had not even offered a single protest. In hindsight, it was so ludicrously out of character for him.
He consoled himself with the knowledge that the changelings were also skilled at their craft. An expert must recognize another expert, after all. He wondered how many days, weeks, or months the changeling had spent shadowing Julian to gain such an understanding of his behavior. Despite the betrayal, the yawning chasm of vulnerability when he considered what the changeling may have seen of Garak while he was shadowing Julian, he was grudgingly impressed at the wrong Julian's technique.
This lapse, at least, Garak could excuse. But that wasn't his major lapse.
No, he felt truly, alarmingly foolish once they were back when he'd learned that Julian, his sweet Julian, had been indeed hiding a particularly large secret. And Garak had not even had the pleasure of divesting him of it. No, he'd been left to uncover the scraps of Julian's secret during one of his routine scans of Deep Space Nine's high security data transcripts. And, as far as he could tell, this secret had been so safeguarded that no one on the station had ever found out until now.
This was the unforgivable lapse, considering the time Garak had invested into understanding everything he could about his dear doctor. Perhaps it was good that Tain was dead, if only so that Garak never had to see his reaction to Garak's failure to discover this kind of secret.
He wondered what else Julian could be hiding from him.
It thrilled Garak, just a little, to know that there were unknown layers beneath Julian's cleverly laid mask. He wanted to peel it back, to know more, to siphon every tiny hidden detail from Julian's mind.
And now, there was reason to pry.
His training was quite clear when obtaining secrets from a target: use any means necessary. A sweet embrace could elicit far more truths than the cruelest knife.
A hot curl of something greedy tightened in his gut as he realized he had an excuse now, a reason to take Julian Bashir into his bed and take him apart until no secrets remained behind those deceitfully unguarded eyes.
A few days later, Julian Bashir showed up in his tailor shop minutes from closing, an imposition that would irritate Garak if anyone else took the liberty. When it was Julian, however, Garak felt warmer than he usually did on the station.
He'd considered approaching Julian first, but no, that would be amateur. Better to let the man think it was his decision. So he'd waited, poised and polished, not letting on the slightest bit of impatience.
Predictably, it hadn't taken too long. It had only been a few days since he'd last seen the doctor, and only a couple of days since he'd learned Julian's delicious little secret.
Garak did not look up for more than an instant, but began folding up his project, mindful of the pins. "Ah, my dear Doctor, what can I do for you?"
Julian smiled at him. Garak did not need to look at him to know the smile was there. It was always there. Indeed, he could hear it in Julian's voice as the doctor greeted him, "Garak! You're looking well. I thought I might check in on you. You didn't show up for your physical after we got back."
Now, Garak looked up at him, smiling back so they both knew he was making an untrue excuse. "It must have slipped my mind. I've been ever so busy after my unexpected stop-off in the gamma quadrant. Customers simply aren't understanding about delays, even when imprisonment is the excuse. Especially a second imprisonment."
Julian's smile flickered. "Yes, I can imagine so. Still, though, I'd be more comfortable if you could clear your schedule enough to briefly stop by the infirmary for a checkup."
"Well, if this is for your own peace of mind, Doctor, I can assure you that I am quite well. No need to trouble yourself."
"No trouble at all. It is my job." Julian persisted.
"And you're very good at it. But your services simply aren't necessary."
"I think you should let your doctor be the judge of that."
"Doctor, I am fine. No reason at all to worry." Garak responded, clearing off his work and beginning to pack to go home. He turned to put fabric back into a drawer, a little peeved that Julian had decided to approach him about this, when there were so many better excuses to see him. More fun excuses. Or at least ones that would lead to a satisfying argument.
"So you've been sleeping well then?" Julian asked, knowingly, cutting through him like a blade.
Garak did not pause in his movements.
To pause would be an acknowledgement that Julian had struck a nerve. And it was a low blow.
Because he absolutely had not been sleeping well and Julian knew more about that than Garak would have liked. Julian's awareness of yet more of his weaknesses had been an unfortunate side effect of keeping close quarters for so many days in Internment Camp 371.
Tain's death and the amount of time he'd spent drowning in the depths of that infernal wall had unsettled him deeply in a way that he couldn't hide when unconscious. He would prefer not to count the number of times he'd woken up with a choked scream from some clawing nightmare only to make eye contact with concerned brown eyes gazing at him from the other cot. The doctor had never done anything so horribly invasive as to try to comfort him, but Julian had always sat quietly and somehow supportively across from him as he 'd calmed himself, and he'd felt those eyes on him even after he closed his own and tried to fall back into blissful oblivion. He had hoped Julian would never mention the interruptions in his sleep.
"Oh, yes, never better." Garak replied airily, on the defensive now. "It is so nice to be back in my own bed once again. I never thought this place would feel like home, and perhaps it still does not, but it is far better than a prison and that's about the best I can say about it."
"Funny. You look rather tired." Julian said tightly.
"I thought you said I was looking well." Garak replied archly.
"Well," Julian grimaced, "you look better than I'd expected."
"I can assure you, Doctor, a few days in a prison like that hardly compare to some of my more unfortunate experiences. Tailoring can be a suprisingly dangerous job, you know. Some of my clients have been downright inhospitable."
"I can believe that," Julian nodded. He fell silent, gazing at a sparkly fabric swatch on the worktable, absently reaching out to stroke it.
Something was on the tip of Julian's tongue. Garak knew enough about prying loose the things people did not want to divulge to realize that Julian wanted to tell him something. No prying was necessary here. The words would emerge if given enough enticing silence where they could thrive. Garak slowly packed his things, giving Julian the space he needed.
Just a moment more.
And then…
"See, I haven't."
Garak glanced at him sharply. "Haven't what?"
"Been sleeping well."
He hadn't been expecting that. With his own struggles to get enough rest in the interment camp, he hadn't noticed any disruption in Julian's sleep. But now that he looked closely, there was a certain exhausted quality to the man's movements. And Julian had always been awake when Garak had woken. He'd thought it was because of whatever shameful noise he'd made upon his rapid journey into wakefulness, but perhapt the doctor had also been struggling with obtaining rest.
Clearly the genetic augmentations could not cure all ills. "Surely, Doctor, you must have some sort of remedy for that. Some sort of sleep aid. Physician, heal thyself?"
Julian shook his head. "I'm afraid I don't have any good options there. which is somewhat ironic, I suppose."
"Whyever not?" Garak pressed. He could infer the reason on his own. Surely it was the augmentations giving him resistance to sedatives. But something inside him desperately wanted to hear the secret from Julian himself.
"Garak." Julian said firmly, silently asking him not to press. "It just isn't an option for me."
Garak took a breath. "I'm sorry to hear that, Doctor. I would have thought you'd have been delighted to be back on the station and in the comfort of your own bed."
"It just doesn't feel quite the same," Julian sighed, shoulders that had been so rigid finally slumping as he deflated visibly.
Garak swooped forward, guiding Julian to his own seat, enjoying how warm Julian's skin felt under his palm. Julian went willingly enough, murmuring a soft thanks.
"Tell me about it." Garak urged, giving into his desire to know more about Julian.
Julian sighed once more. "It's just all wrong. I lay in a bed that belonged to another man for weeks. I wear the clothes he wore. I wonder what he did when he was me, how he acted. I wonder why no one ever noticed. Why I was, apparently correctly, deemed the most replaceable of all the Starfleet personnel."
Garak winced.
"And maybe being replaced was for the best. From what I've heard, he was so much more agreeable than me. Maybe that new Julian Bashir was the improved version."
"I can assure you, he was not an improvement," Garak began. But he found he had nothing to continue with. It wasn't like Garak had noticed a difference.
"You know something, Garak? It's not even the first time I've been replaced," Julian chuckled with a biting edge to his voice, not leaving space for Garak to comment. "You'd think I'd be used to it by now. Maybe I'll just keep going through life getting upgraded and erased. Like a machine. We'll move on to a holographic version of me next. Maybe that one will finally be good enough."
He wasn't supposed to know what Julian was talking about, so Garak didn't quite know how to respond. Another unfortunate lapse. Instead, he remained quiet and let the doctor get it all out in the open. He told himself it was a tactful decision to get more information instead of cowardice.
Julian dragged his hands down his face, wiping at his eyes. "I just can't stop thinking that. no matter what I do, I won't ever be enough. It's never good enough. I let myself get captured without anyone the wiser. Despite all my ever so impressive knowledge and skills, I couldn't reconfigure the transmitter to keep you from going into that horrible wall. I just let my father go to prison to save myself. And now I can't even sleep through the night. Something a child can do."
"That's hardly fair." Garak protested, leaning in to grasp Julian by the shoulders. "You're so much more—"
Julian grasped his left wrist firmly, cutting him off. The grip was too strong for a normal human, painfully digging into his skin. "Surely, you're going to ask me about it, Garak. I've said so much and you haven't asked at all. Except you already know, don't you? You always know, somehow. I suppose the only question is how long have you known?"
Garak did not move a muscle, neither pulling back nor gripping Julian's shoulder harder. He could lie, he could claim confusion, but it wouldn't gain him anything here. Instead, he let himself get as close to the truth as he dared. "What if I told you I found out when Captain Sisko did and that you're a better liar than you think?"
Tension brewed in the air as they stared at each other silently.
Finally, Julian huffed a laugh, letting go of Garak's wrist. "I'd say that was probably a compliment, coming from you, if I believed for a second that it was the truth."
Garak pulled back, rubbing his recently freed wrist with his other hand. He could allow Julian to believe his perceptive skills to be better than they truly were. Being overestimated was often as useful as being underestimated. "I don't see why it should matter in the slightest."
Julian cocked his head at him. "And why not? It matters to everyone else. They can say they don't care but I can see the hesitancy, the distance they all leave around me now. The looks. The fear."
Garak raised a brow ridge. "Well, my dear doctor, I would be quite the hypocrite to judge you for your augmentations." He watched Julian flounder for the briefest of moments, savoring it.
"You mean you—?"
"Is it so suprising, Doctor? I'm sure you're aware that Cardassian genetic engineering and surgical alteration is renowned throughout the galaxy. It would be quite foolish of the Obsidian Order to neglect to use every resource at their disposal." It was a lie, of course. Not any of his statements, but the implications were entirely false.
"Surely they would not—"
"And why not? We've talked at length at how Cardassian pragmatism scoffs at so-called Federation ethics."
Still not a lie. Perhaps it would be of comfort to the doctor to believe he was not alone in this. Garak had been alone enough in his life to know the yawning void of it. And that it could be relieving to think of someone else existing in that yawning void.
Julian swallowed. "What did they do to you?"
"I suppose it is more a question of what they didn't do." Garak smiled without humor. "Do you think every tailor is so skilled at so many things? Seems a bit more than natural to me, don't you think?"
"Garak, I—" Julian cut himself off.
Garak smoothly filled in the gap. "So, you see, my dear doctor, you're not unique in this regard. Sometimes a parent shapes you into a twisted masterpiece in a misguided attempt for perfection and the child still ends up not meeting their expectations. It's hardly something to lose sleep over." It was too much truth to share, even cloaked in a lie. He felt a little manic.
Julian rubbed his temples. "Perhaps I've been having a bit of a pity party, now that you put it that way. Maybe you're right. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad if I weren't so exhausted." Julian grimaced. "I meant for this to go so differently."
"Oh?" Garak inquired.
"I meant to check on you. After everything with the prison and, well, with Tain, I figured, well, that you'd be struggling a bit to handle it all."
And that was quite enough of that avenue of conversation. "And I can assure you, Doctor, I am handling everything quite well. Perhaps, this time, it is you who may require some assistance in handling it all."
"It wouldn't be so bad if it weren't for the sleeplessness. Funny, isn't it? I slept better in the prison."
"I seem to recall you being awake quite a bit in the prison." Garak carefully did not mention why he knew the doctor had been awake.
Julian shrugged. "At least I wasn't alone there. There were others there to watch out for me. Now I keep closing my eyes, expecting to wake up in another prison again."
Ah. Of course. They'd taken Julian in his sleep. Sleep was no longer safe for him, but it lay in wait, an unavoidable vulnerability. Garak knew the feeling.
Julian continued, "I thought about staying with Miles. Only, I don't think he quite trusts me the same way anymore, now that he knows. He tries not to let on, but it bothers him, I can tell. And he has a child to worry about. Children, now, I suppose. Probably wouldn't want an augment around them, just in case." Julian's lip twisted as he said the word.
And the amount of self hatred in the doctor's voice galled him.
"Perhaps you'd rather stay with me." The invitation was out before he'd fully calculated the risks.
Julian shot him a glance. "I beg your pardon?"
No, no, this was good, he told himself. He'd wanted to get closer to the doctor. This was all according to plan. "I can assure you, I wouldn't mind. It's not like we haven't shared close quarters before, quite recently, in fact. And the accomodations are certainly better."
Julian blinked at him a few times. Sleep deprivation had clearly slowed his mental processing. "Alright, Garak. If you're sure."
"I am quite sure." Garak assured him, trying to calm his suddenly racing heart.
"One thing, Garak. Would you mind, terribly, if we slept in your quarters?"
Garak raised his brow ridges. "You'd want to stay with me? I'm not sure how comfortable you'd find it."
"I don't want to go back to my quarters right now, Garak. I'd prefer to stay with you."
"Well, then, come along, my dear Doctor."
"It's warmer than last time." Julian said.
They stood together in the entrance of Garak's quarters as the door slid shut behind them. That glorious warmth suffused Garak's bones once more, a welcome reprieve that he looked forward to every day.
"Ah, yes, I raised the temperature. The cold of this station was far more manageable with the wire than without. I had worried you'd find it unpleasant."
Julian hummed. "How did you manage to bypass the temperature controls?"
"It's within the limits of standard Federation range." Garak lied.
"No, it isn't." Julian smirked at him.
"No, it isn't." Garak agreed affably. "I can turn it down."
"No, no," Julian protested. "They're your quarters. Be comfortable. I can only imagine how cold you are most of the time, and you must have been especially so in that prison."
"Indeed. If only the Breen had known they would have been comfortable there without a suit."
Julian laughed and Garak was glad to hear it, ushering Julian further into the room.
"The temperature will be manageable for me," Julian said, "but I hope you don't mind if I shed some layers." The doctor had already begun peeling his uniform off his body.
"Of course," Garak said, turning away politely, only now realizing his plan to seduce the doctor might present somewhat of a problem for his willpower. Seduction worked better when the seducing party could remain impartial and at least internally aloof. Garak found himself anything but impartial and aloof. "I'm sure you remember where everything is."
"I do," Julian confirmed, still shucking clothing.
Garak moved towards the replicator, requesitioning a light meal he knew they both enjoyed to distract himself from the golden skin he knew Julian was exposing behind him.
They'd seen each other in states of undress in the prison. It couldn't be helped in such close quarters, despite their awkward attempts to retain some semblance of dignity and modesty. Everything felt different in the context of this new situation: Julian undressing in the warmth of his room, the lights low, the silence weighty. He could faintly smell the sweat of his body, Garak realized as he flicked his tongue out to lick his lips, beginning to wonder if he'd made a terrible mistake with his invitation.
"Would it be terribly rude of me if I just go to bed now? I think the lack of sleep is catching up with me." Julian asked, shaking Garak from his thoughts.
Garak turned, beginning to explain that he'd replicated them food, but the words stuck in his throat. Julian stood before him in nothing but his Starfleet issue teal boxer briefs, tight across his thights. A light sheen of sweat coating his form, making him glisten in the low light. He did not show the slightest bit of embarassment at his undress, perhaps too tired to care.
"Ah." Garak cleared his throat in the silence and dumped the newly replicated food into the reclamation unit. He rapidly revised his plans for the evening. "No. Go right ahead, my dear Doctor." He gestured an invitation and then followed the doctor.
The doctor was in his bedroom again. The heat in his gut curled once more and Garak shifted from one foot to the other.
"I suppose you'll have to fill in for Kukalaka this evening."
"I beg your pardon, Doctor?"
Julian chuckled, a warm velvety sound. "He's a stuffed animal I had. As a child, I used to fall asleep while clutching him. It's a soothing thing for human children. He continued to watch over me from a shelf in my bedroom through my adulthood. Only, I let Leeta borrow him and he's never been returned to me."
"A stuffed animal…" Garak felt that was a little morbid for human children.
"Oh, not a real stuffed animal! He's made of fabric." Julian laughed.
"That does change my impression of the tradition. So I am meant to replace your stuffed animal?" Perhaps Julian would clutch him instead.
Julian slid under the covers and yawned as he lay back against the pillow. "I just mean that you'll be watching over me tonight. Like Kukalaka always did."
"Of course, my dear Doctor. Whatever you need. I am at your service." Garak said, his tone dark and full of promise. He sat down on the other side of the bed and removed his outer tunic, leaving his undershirt and trousers. It wasn't quite sleep attire, but it would do for the evening. He wasn't sure he wanted to undress further while the doctor waited in his bed. And Garak had slept in far more uncomfortable clothes and would do so again if necessary.
Or, he thought to himself, maybe the night would head in a different direction and he would end up removing the clothing anyway.
Julian hummed in response. "You're already doing a wonderful job of being my new Kukalaka. I feel sleepy already. Come join me, Garak. You must be tired as well. Would it help if I make it doctor's orders?."
Garak moved to lay next to him, sliding beneath the covers, conscious of how close Julian's bare skin was from his own. "Certainly, Doctor. Far be it from me to argue with my physician."
They lay on the bed on their backs, side by side, not touching. Exhaustion nagged at him, as usual, but the electric feeling in the air kept him moored to wakefulness. He could feel the heat emanating from Julian's bare skin and his fingers itched to inch closer to its source. The silence was pervasive, endless.
Neither slept. He could hear Julian's breathing, not slow and measured, but short and unsteady. The seconds dragged on into minutes.
He knew what to do here. Tain had instructed him well. He would reach out, touch skin to skin, stroke and tease, leave Julian wanting more, entice him with the promise of pleasure and affection.
And it wouldn't matter that he only did it for a purpose because Julian would enjoy himself so much. He would make sure of it. And then he would have Julian's body and whatever secrets remained inside of him and that would be enough.
It wouldn't be real with Julian. But what did real matter? Garak was used to subsisting on scraps to survive. He would take what he was given so freely, no matter how real it was.
Garak took a breath, preparing himself to slide a hand closer to Julian's arm.
He couldn't do it, he realized. His breath caught in his throat. He wanted to reach out so badly, but fear welled up in him. Fear of failure, of loss, of Julian's shocked and disappointed face.
This would be one more failure on his ledge. It shouldn't be this difficult to just reach out to Julian, to caress his skin. Garak wanted to do it, but his body wouldn't respond.
And then, before Garak could move a finger, Julian moved first and was on him.
The doctor grasped Garak's shoulders, pinching the ridges of his neck, sending jolts of pleasure through his body. Then Julian's mouth plastered against his own, lips moving and coaxing his to part. Julian's body pressed his into the bed, draped over him like a warming blanket. Garak, startled, slid his fingers along Julian's back, reaching for some semblance of stability. He felt fabric at Julian's hips and grabbed with both hands, pulling Julian firmly against him.
Julian groaned and ground down against his leg and… oh. Humans did not evert, he knew, but they did engorge when aroused. And, despite having never quite had the experience of feeling it before, Garak felt confident that the firm length against his thigh meant that the doctor was aroused.
The doctor was not alone in his desire. Garak felt his ajan begin to trickle fluid. When the doctor's tongue breached his mouth, Garak felt a bit more gush from him. His eagerness would have been more embarrassing if it hadn't been for the blatant desperation coming from Julian's every move.
"You don't seem sleepy anymore, Doctor." Garak commented, pulling away to speak, his voice coming out harsh and winded.
"Want you." Julian mumbled into his lips.
"And you shall have me, my dear." Garak decided. Oh, yes. He would give all of himself to Julian and take what scraps he could get in return. For the good of Cardassia, he reminded himself.
He helped Julian pull his tunic from his body, delighting in the renewed warmth seeping from Julian's skin into his own. He was further rewarded with Julian's dexterous fingers tracing the ridges on his torso, dragging fiery tingles of longing across his skin.
Garak gasped when Julian's mouth drifted along his jawline and down his neck, lips sucking and kissing their way towards his left shoulder ridge. "Why, Doctor, you seem to know a lot about Cardassian anatomy!" Garak managed to say, trying his best to keep his tone light and even, to keep the upper hand in this more physical debate.
"Shhh, I'm a doctor. It's my job to know." Julian responded, nibbling at the scales that trailed along his shoulder.
Sharp spikes of pleasure shot through him and Garak realized how xenobiological medical knowledge could be particularly useful when sleeping with an alien. He felt the heaviness of his prUt swelling inside its pouch and he squirmed as the pressure grew and the friction helping to hold his prUt inside grew less and less effective with the slick he was producing.
Julian's teeth bit down just the right way and Garak finally let out a moan, which redoubled Julian's focus on the third scale down his neck. How good the doctor was at ferreting out his every weakness, even now.
He stroked Julian's shoulders instinctively, pinching the soft skin of his neck in return, only belatedly realizing that Humans didn't associate the shoulders with anything particularly erogenous. Julian didn't seem to mind, instead trailing the warmth of his hands down to slide inside Garak's trousers.
Garak tensed a little, expecting just a bit of hesitation. But Julian only carefully slid a determined finger inside him, immediately curling it and pressing against his sheathed prUt.
His prUt pulsed desperately in response, sliding down a little. Then Garak gritted his teeth. He was not an uncontrolled youth. He would not allow himself to evert just yet.
But Julian's finger pressed inside him so sweetly, sending twisting tendrils of pleasure to his core. And the movements of Julian's fingers inside him caused his arm, pressed between them, to rub so enticingly against his chuva. Garak bit his lip so hard to restrain his moans that he worried he'd draw blood.
And then Julian's mouth was on his once more, prying his lip from between his teeth, Julian's tongue laving against the bitten flesh soothingly. And there was nothing left to contain the embarrassing sounds emerging from his trembling lips.
He didn't know how long it went on, the languid kissing while Julian ground his alien engorged prUt against his thigh and pressed his fingers so sweetly inside him. Garak felt he could go on like this forever and die happy. It was somehow overwhelming and yet not quite enough.
Garak knew that he should be taking charge of the whole thing. He'd been the one to plan it all out, after all. But every time a thought surfaced about what he should be doing, Julian did something new with his hand or his tongue and the thoughts fled his mind.
"I have an idea. Tell me what you think." Julian growled into his ear. And by the time the words registered, Julian had already crawled down his body, using one hand to slide his trousers down his legs. The whole time, as he moved, Julian continued to work his other hand against him, fingers still inside and teasing at his prUt. The coordination was so impressive that it had to be inhuman and Garak spared a thankful thought to the augmentations that must have allowed it.
"Now then," Julian murmured, head now positioned ominously between his thighs. He gripped Garak's hip ridge and pressed his ever-so-warm lips directly onto his chuva, holding Garak's gaze.
Garak bit out a long groan, body tense, ajan leaking, and he finally everted, quite unintentionally. His prUt forced Julian's fingers out with it in a gush of pale blue slick that splashed across Julian's face.
"I take that as approval?"
"Oh, yes, Doctor. I approve." He shuddered as Julian began to lick into his chuva. He didn't mention how lewd the act was to Cardassians, only hinted at in the most sordid of erotic poetry. Julian didn't seem to mind it, tongue twirling maddeningly as he caressed Garak's prUt with one hand and drove the fingers of his other hand into Garak's newly emptied ajan.
Garak clutched desperately at the sheets, feet sliding futilely against the bed, kicking out blindly at the intensity. Julian flicked a glance up at him, considering, and then took a moment to gather Garak's legs beneath him, pinning his feet to the bed with his body before redoubling his efforts.
Though the pounding of his heart and the screaming pleasure in his veins took priority, Garak realized Julian had nestled his prUt between the soles of his feet and he was thrusting into them in time with the movements of his hands.
It was a surprising position, but Garak quickly saw the benefit. He held his feet together tightly for Julian to thrust between them, feeling the pull of the muscles in his thighs, weighed down by Julian's body. He couldn't escape, couldn't even move, but the feeling was grounding instead of constraining.
Sensation consumed him, pleasure singing in a cacophony that drowned out all thought. Every fiber of his being tensed, a bowstring taut and pulled to its limit. His ajan clenched around Julian's fingers and he squirmed futilely under Julian's tongue.
And then it was too much. His body broke under the strain. Garak cried out, a pitiful little wail that sent shocks of humiliation through him even as his body surged and bucked beyond his control. The orgasm raged and Julian held him down through it, relentless as he coaxed the aftershocks out of him. Slick sounds were still audible over the sound of his involuntary moans.
He came down slowly and Julian slowed his movements just as the oversensitivity kicked in, sliding his fingers out of Garak and kissing his belly next to his chuva. As Garak's body sagged and relaxed, he felt Julian grip his hip ridges, grunting and shoving rhythmically between his feet several more times before he went tense and shuddered, panting against Garak's belly. Garak felt a warm pulse against his feet and then his soles were oddly damp. Julian went limp against his body, breathing hard.
And it was over, he supposed. He felt winded, exhausted in the best way.
The night had gotten away from him, somehow, Garak thought dazedly. But it was good, he was sure. All according to plan. Or, at least, the plan could be adjusted to fit the events of the evening.
Garak took several more breaths in the stillness before Julian slid off of him and curled into Garak's side. He panted and grinned at him in the dark, looking as young and bright eyed as the day Garak had met him. "I suppose that's one way to cure insomnia."
Garak stretched his legs out, feeling his prUt soften and begin to slide back inside himself. "I'm not sure Starfleet Medical would approve of prescribing this sort of cure. All those ethics."
"Oh, we don't even know if it's effective enough to use as a treatment yet. We'd need a lot more research, a lot more repetition of the cure, perhaps some experimentation in the delivery method." Julian mused, mirth suffusing his tone.
"It sounds like an undertaking, but I'm sure we can manage. For science."
Julian laughed, "I think the resulting paper could be enlightening."
"Mmm," Garak agreed, his heartbeat slowing as he relaxed into the bed. Julian's arm snaked around his waist comfortingly.
"I hope you don't mind if the pillow talk isn't drawn out tonight, Garak. You're a wonderful sleep aid."
"Not at all, my dear doctor."
It didn't take long for Julian's breaths to even out, warm and humid against his chest. But Garak lay awake for quite a while, mind spinning as he wondered what he'd gotten himself into and why his heart sunk when he thought of why he was doing it.
It became the new normal. Because they slept well that night. Garak woke only a few times and then fell quickly back to sleep when he realized Julian was anchoring him down and murmuring soft soothing words.
And it was good. Startlingly, devastatingly good.
Garak learned what made Julian's Human body writhe and squirm. The differences excited him. The strange little papules on Julian's chest certainly warranted extensive further exploration, given Julian's vocal response the first time he'd touched them. His Human prUt came in a package with two spongy glands encased in a sack of flesh and Julian seemed to find them incredibly sensitive.
And, surprisingly, given what Garak was given to understand about Human erogenous zones, Julian's arousal would spike at any mention or glimpse of the soles of Garak's feet.
They talked only once about what Julian liked about his feet. It seemed to be a point of shame for the Human. Something about being even more of an anomaly or having wires crossed in his brain. Julian seemed self-conscious about his interests in his soles, but Garak didn't mind it. If anyone could understand wires in the brain, it was Garak. And dear Julian's predilection for his feet was just one more oddity in a string of oddities that made up Julian Bashir. He learned to enjoy the feeling of Julian's strange prUt sliding against the soles of his feet because it always coincided with the most delightful noises from the doctor.
And it was another secret about his dear doctor, pried free from Julian and kept safe with Garak. Julian had not directly asked him not to tell anyone, but it was obviously something he felt uncomfortable with people knowing. Garak gleefully clutched the knowledge deep inside his heart and relished being one of a select few to know Julian in this way. It was another secret about his dear doctor and Garak loved collecting those.
Despite the weeks together, he hadn't learned any great groundbreaking things from Julian. Certainly nothing that would interest Cardassia or bring an end to his exile. He uncovered more about Starfleet operations from his daily survey of their high security logs.
But he knew how Julian brushed his teeth in the sonic shower to save time in the morning. And he knew that Julian preferred boxer briefs. And he knew how Julian's brow would furrow right before he came. And he knew that Julian had a tiny cowlick in his hair that drove him crazy when he combed it out because it always messed up how his hair lay. And he knew that Julian liked to set three alarms in the morning so he could ignore the first two before he actually got up.
He would treasure all these intimate details when Julian realized that it was all a trick and Garak was alone once more.
It took weeks. Weeks of gloriously perfect moments, of casual affection that Garak knew would hurt more to lose than the throes of ecstasy. And in the end, his perfect fantasy was shattered when Julian, over dinner one night, looked him dead in the eye, and firmly told him, "I love you."
Garak stiffened, a spoon of plomeek soup frozen between the bowl and his lips, his heart sinking nauseatingly. "Don't."
It wasn't time yet. He wasn't ready.
He got up from the table suddenly, his knees shaking. Maybe he could delay the conversation by leaving before Julian could say any more.
Julian stood from his own seat, moving closer to Garak. He reached out and grabbed onto Garak's upper arms, holding him close as he said again, "Garak, I love you."
And that was that. It was over.
The world slid away from him just a bit, his perspective skewing. He felt as if he were standing slightly beside his body. He was so cold.
It was over. He'd known it would end and it had, without the slightest bit of warning. He'd thought he'd see signs of the ending approaching at least. But he hadn't.
And this was it. The end.
Because he couldn't keep the charade going any longer. He was never going to be strong enough for that. He couldn't let Julian think he loved him.
Garak looked deeply into Julian's eyes and broke his heart with the precision of a surgeon."You don't love me, Doctor. You're mistaken. I've convinced you that you love me. But it isn't real."
"Garak, what?" Julian's brow wrinkled, face scrunching in shocked distaste.
"I seduced you." Garak explained. "Because I wanted to know everything you knew."
"You did what now?" Julian exclaimed.
"Don't be hard on yourself for it, my dear Doctor. It's what I do. It's what I've been trained to do. You had no choice and thus no culpability."
"No choice?" Julian's face grew red, hands still warm and tight on Garak's arms. "I have to say, Garak, it's quite egotistical of you to think I had no say in any of this. I seem to recall being the one to seduce you that night. I approached you in your shop, I asked to come to your bed, and I climbed on top of you, if you remember, Garak."
Garak winced at the away Julian spat out his name. The dear doctor still didn't understand. "But don't you see? I laid the groundwork. I set up the trap. And you were so kind as to fall directly into it without me having to do a thing. Again, you may be as angry with me as you like. It's not your fault at all."
Julian barked a laugh, incredulous. "You think you're the only reason for all of this?"
Garak was stoic. "I am sorry, Doctor, for what it's worth. I understand that it's over between us. I won't trouble you any further." His voice didn't waver. He refused to let it. This had always been inevitable.
Julian hands shook, gripping his arms too tightly for a brief moment before he released Garak, and took a step back. "Okay, say you are the reason. You manipulated me with your intricate little web like the not so simple spymaster you are. What was the point, Garak? What did you gain? Was it information you were after? Well, I'm laid bare before you, Garak. You have all my dirty little secrets. Are you going to go back to Cardassia and report that Starfleet has a genetic freak on their staff? That the filthy little augment is pathetic enough to need someone else there to fall asleep? That he's a mutant who likes feet a little too much?" Venom dripped from his every word.
"No!" Garak responded, feeling cold. "I wouldn't." It would be a violation. And yet…
Wouldn't he? If asked? Wouldn't he give up every morsel of information in the hopes that it would help Cardassia? Wouldn't he do anything to rescind his exile?
Garak realized he didn't know. And that was a more terrifying thought.
Who would he even report to anymore? Certainly not Gul Dukat. Tain was gone. Who then?
"Then what, Garak?" Julian sounded tired. "What did you gain by sweet talking me into your bed?"
And it was so simple, wasn't it? In the end, it wasn't really for any complicated plot. It was just that…
"Why did you really do it, Garak?"
"I wanted you." Garak whispered. He did. So much. It was purely selfish, he realized only now. He wanted Julian's mind and body and, yes, even his heart, all to himself. It hadn't been for Cardassia at all.
Julian closed his eyes. "Some truth at last."
And that was somehow worse. That he'd wanted Julian so badly, not for any greater purpose, but because he was a lonely, selfish man. He'd clung to any excuse possible to take what he wanted.
But it was all for naught, in the end. The whole ridiculous plan to seduce Julian didn't really gain him anything except the knowledge of what he'd just lost.
Stinging behind his eyes surprised him, but he fought back the prickling moisture with the ease of one long-practiced at suppressing tears.
This was it. Years of exile loomed before him, now fully alone and bereft with not even the promise of pleasant lunches to guide him onwards. He wondered if he'd ever have a real friend again.
Doubtful.
"Why can't you just let yourself have me then?"
Wait, what?
"I'm sorry?"
"Don't be." Julian said, suddenly insistent. "Don't be sorry. Don't try to tell me this was some big plot. Don't try to convince me you don't care because I know you do, even if you can't say it. I'll say it for both of us, Garak. I love you. Just, please, let yourself be loved, you ridiculous, infuriating Cardassian."
Garak looked into Julian's kind eyes. The numbness in his body was fading. "You always manage to surprise me, my dear. I find myself at a loss. Are you quite sure you don't want to shoot me again?"
"Don't tempt me," Julian said, eyes still kind and twinkling.
"I'd let you." Garak said, sure it was the truth.
Julian looked at him closely and Garak thought the doctor might know it was the truth this time. "No, I'd rather not shoot you. It would only be more work for me. It's such a bore fixing you up again and again."
"That works just as well for me. A tailor with phaser wounds just draws the wrong kind of attention." He wasn't sure what he was even saying, scarcely daring to believe he could keep this with Julian.
Because it apparently wasn't over. He could have this. No pretenses, no excuses, no subterfuge. Just lunches and dinners and sleeping peacefully together every night.
"Well, we can't afford to blow your cover like that." Julian agreed.
Garak kissed him suddenly, urgently, overcome. Julian kissed back, lips moving along his, hands sliding up his back to hold him close.
This time, Garak didn't feel guilt. He didn't feel shame.
No, he felt hope. Terrifying, gut-wrenching hope.
Because now he had something to lose.