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Julian Bashir awoke sprawled on his front, instantly aware of the sensation of lips nuzzling gently against his neck and the sound of a gentle rumbling which he had putatively identified as a statement of amorous intent by male Cardassians - leastways this particular one. His scientific brain made a quick note to ask Garak about that at some time when they were less… occupied. For now though, he was determined to bask in the sensation of closeness and the dreaminess of post-coital languor.
He was unable to hide a smile as his memory flashed back to a short while earlier and the sensations which he had experienced as a certain Cardassian tailor had done his best to grind him repeatedly into the luxuriously soft sheets whilst peppering his back, shoulders and neck with a series of increasingly desperate bites. His skin ached from the attentions it had received. He knew that Garak had been holding back and, for a second, wondered what it would be like if the Cardassian had not done so… If he had used those teeth without restraint… The thought sent a tingle of excitement down his body to pool deep in his belly as a gentle flicker of lust.
When the nuzzling continued, Bashir gave a soft groan and wriggled over, turning onto his back and wrapping his arms around strong, grey shoulders, pulling the Cardassian close and kissing him… long and slow…
"Mmm, hello you," he managed to say, through lips pre-occupied with touching and memorising the feelings… He found himself leaning in and pressing his forehead against Garak's, wondering if he had imagined the gentle sigh which the action seemed to invoke and the way the strong grey body seemed to melt against him, almost keenly.
OUCH. Now that bite WAS sore… He winced and caught the Cardassian looking almost guilty - and another expression was on that usually controlled face. Concern… Worry…? Vulnerability… ? He ran a hand over his shoulder and let it linger against a livid and quite sore mark. He knew that it had broken the skin and that it could be easily repaired with the dermal regenerator, but he wanted to keep that particular mark. Perversely, he hoped it would scar… remain as a reminder of that very first time… of the Cardassian losing that supreme control.
Julian had never known Garak to be so biddable as he led him to his shower and watched as the Cardassian immediately looked around, taking note of his surroundings. He grinned to himself, reflecting that Garak was, in all probability, making mental notes of potential escape routes in case they were attacked and calculating exit velocity required to get them both out of the area if necessary. Apparently you could take an operative out of the Order, but you couldn't take the Order out of the operative.
It was then that he realised that the Cardassian was looking pained and almost kicked himself when the reason became clear. Of course, it was too bright. Garak had issues with the normal lighting on the station at the best of times and that plus the stark whiteness of the tiles must have been painfully bright for him.
Idiot… As if he wasn't aware of Garak's photosensitivity! He was, but he'd been so carried away by the moment that his mind had never even realised. He felt remorseful as he adjusted the lighting and was relieved to see the Cardassian relax and seem more comfortable. Simply being there, sharing this level of intimacy, made a feeling of such emotion well up in Bashir's chest that it threatened to make his breath catch and he just wanted to reach out and hold the man, let him know he was loved… desired… treasured.
He watched as the spray hit the Cardassian's scales for the first time… Saw him flinch slightly and then step directly into the warm caress of the water, a gentle smile spreading across his face as he felt the rivulets trickle over scales and ridges, giving a soft hum of pleasure as the warmth seeped into weary muscles. Julian wondered if Garak had had many chances to experience relaxed pleasure before in his previous life. He suspected not and that thought upset him.
He stood for a moment, simply drinking in the sight before him. Oh, he could not deny that Garak had always fascinated him. Even before they had met, when he was just a name muttered darkly like some sinister evil creature in a fairy tale, a threat used by mothers to encourage good behaviour in their offspring… 'Be good, or the Cardassian spy will get you!' He had been warned but those warnings had only served to fuel the fire of his intrigue. And then, of course, they had met. That insane moment in the Replimat when he had become aware of someone walking behind him, had looked up into piercing blue eyes and promptly lost all capacity for normal speech. He had sat for the few minutes of their conversation, stealing shy looks at the man opposite and kicking himself for sounding like a bumbling young fool. He had been almost shocked to find himself immediately thinking that the Cardassian was attractive. His face with those swirling eye ridges and soft grey skin was almost like a sculpture, lacking the harshness so evident in other Cardassian faces which he had seen previously. Those eyes… oh, those eyes… So intense, so predatory … And he had been inwardly embarrassed sitting there that day to find himself wondering just how far down those neck ridges extended as they disappeared under his tunic, and what other ornate markings were hidden beneath that thick fabric.
He knew now. And reality had by far exceeded his imaginings.
He poured a little of the shower gel across the Cardassian's broad chest, gently pushing his hands away, wanting to convey the message of warmth and closeness as he began to move his palms across the row of scales which marked the contours of Garak's collar bones and traced fingertips around the raised inverted tear-shaped mark situated in the centre of his sternum. He glanced up to the Cardassian's face, seeing his nostrils flare slightly as the scent of the gel rose in the steam. Lemongrass and ginger. A small concession to memories of Earth. It was a scent which was strangely comforting for probably the wrong reasons. It reminded him of the time when he had left home to attend medical school; when he had finally stepped away from a place where his father's influence had shackled him mentally. Now though, it would always remind him of this moment in time… of Garak, relaxed and totally trusting, and the feeling of those scales and ridges under his touch.
It was a moment which Julian had thought would never happen. That realisation sent an icy shiver through his body.
He allowed his fingers to drift up to Garak's shoulders and follow the line of ridged scales from there down the single, broad, flat ridge that ran down the outside of the Cardassian's upper arm and branched just above the elbow to form two thinner ridges running down to his wrist. Lifting each arm in turn, he gently washed each hand, each finger… his own skin tingling as he remembered the feel of those fingers, their touch, sometimes confident, insistent, sometimes with such hesitation and aching tenderness. He swallowed as a muted sob of desire threatened to emerge, and gently kissed grey knuckles, glancing up to see the Cardassian's eyes still closed - the short, lilac lashes curling slightly against wet, silver-grey skin…
Rather than disturb the man, Julian stepped round him to get access to his back. He pushed the wet, black hair aside and rubbed gently across the tops of Garak's shoulders, pressing his thumbs harder into the solid muscles through the layer of light scales which spread across his back. The action produced a small huff of pleasure from the Cardassian and a slight push back into the contact as Julian spread his fingers and slid them softly over the scales; darker grey than the skin of his neck or the scales of his chest and outlined with a thin line of a blue so dark that it was almost black until the light caught it at a certain angle and showed up a rich sheen. Julian closed his eyes and allowed pure touch to map the broad back and find the two small ridges that ran down either side of the Cardassian's spine, tracing them downwards before sliding his hands forwards and resting them on Garak's hip ridges, stepping forwards to press his body against the cool grey scales and nuzzling against the Cardassian's neck ridges.
Moving back to face the Cardassian, Julian let sud-laden hands trace down Garak's chest and sank to his knees, letting his fingers trace down over a soft-skinned belly, glancing up to find intense blue eyes focused on him as though wondering what Julian's next move would be. Oh, his mind was making all sorts of suggestions about where he would like to allow his lips to wander, but for now he wanted to simply enjoy the depth of emotion which he felt just being in such close proximity to the Cardassian… He leant forwards and placed a gentle kiss on each of Garak's hip bones before continuing his hands' migration down each strong thigh, tracing the femoral ridge down the outside of Garak's legs to where it bifurcated at the knee with a short spur coming off the main ridge and swirling around over the kneecap. Julian found the medic in him taking over as his mind labelled each ridge according to its anatomical position… Suprapatellar ridge - his brain acknowledged, storing the information… He continued down, smiling at how intricate the markings were on Garak's lower legs and feet as he traced them all with delicate, inquisitive fingers before standing up and drawing the Cardassian closer for a gentle kiss, a warm feeling of acceptance spreading through him as Garak took the shower gel from him and poured a small quantity into his palm.
The tenderness of the Cardassian had always surprised him. Even before this recent change in their relationship, he had always detected a softness behind those piercing blue eyes. The outward appearance had always been uncompromising, unyielding, and the opinions of others always suggested that the Cardassian tailor was harsh and unfeeling. But he had always felt that he could see something else lurking behind the mask which Garak always wore to face the world. A gentleness… A vulnerability. Now, standing before him, that mask had gone and Julian suspected that he was, for once, looking at the real Elim Garak, or at least, as real as it was possible for a man with his sort of history to be. The Cardassian's face, eyes fixed intently on those grey hands as they moved across Bashir's chest, was relaxed and open, filled almost with wonder. That touch, slightly hesitant, was reverential, as though he was moving in a dream and was afraid that he would wake up. Julian's heart swelled… He wanted to reach out and pull the Cardassian closer, but held back, so as not to break that gloriously fragile moment. Instead he leant back against the tiles and soaked up the attention, watching the spectrum of emotions flit across the silver-grey face, letting him move him, turn him, caress him gently and occasionally lean in to brush lips against the areas which, Julian knew, were bruised and bitten.
It seemed so natural to draw Garak close again, to drape his arms over strong, scaled shoulders and to let their lips meet in a sensuous, slow kiss as the water ran over them and formed rivulets reflecting glistening silver and gold on their bodies. Desire was starting to blur his senses again, gentle this time… an ember which the Cardassian's mere proximity was fanning into a small, persistent flame. The feeling of loss when Garak stepped back, reminding him that he had wanted to eat, was acute. Indeed, he had been hungry, had wanted food, but, at that moment, the hunger was of a quite different nature. He was more than a little disappointed when Garak stepped further away, his actions making a clear statement and his reminder about the fact that Julian had to be on duty later effectively throwing a large girder in front of Julian's train of thought.
As he carefully dried the Cardassian, Julian found his mind starting to race. It tended to do that whenever he was worrying about something - coming up with questions and running best and worst case scenarios and all permutations in between. The last few hours had allowed the final piece of a complex puzzle to fall into place and clarified a good deal that had previously been a fog in his mind. He had realised where he wanted his life to go… More importantly, he had realised who he wanted it to go there with… The main question now was…
Did Garak want the same?
He studied the Cardassian with a knot starting to form in his stomach, concern beginning to send his thoughts into a worried spiral. The main part of his mind was telling him that Garak did want the same thing. The look which Julian had seen the Cardassian giving him as he had finished drying himself and applied the talc had been one of pure desire, but then… he'd withdrawn so suddenly, pulling away. It felt as though Garak had just built a wall and retreated behind it.
He needed to know… He had to find out what was in that fascinating reptilian mind…
They had to talk…
He followed the Cardassian into the bedroom…
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