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There was blood on his hands. The blood of countless innocents, not many of whom he had killed directly, but whose deaths his actions caused, a careful word here and there, information passed to those he knew would do harm, sabotage and its intended and unintended victims. The blood of those who might deserve it, incompetent bureaucrats, failing leaders, other spies. The blood of those who deserved to die, cruel leaders, cold-blooded killers, those who harmed people that he cared about. The blood of those who might not deserve it, and that he tried his best not to think about.
There was blood on his hands, even if unseen, and he could never wash it off. Those naive enough to trust him, naive enough to believe in him, could only ever be tainted by this blood, by all of his mistakes that still piled over him. Anything that he touched, he would tarnish.
Which was why he had to stay away from Julian. Julian, who still believed in the inherent goodness of people despite all evidence to the contrary. Julian, who despite all of his well founded suspicions still befriended him and treated with respect. Julian, who might not even realize it himself but was as infatuated with Garak as Garak had been with him.
Had been, not any more. Infatuation wouldn't cover what Garak felt now, despite himself. And yet he wouldn't call it anything else, wouldn't give it dangerous names of powerful feelings that lead to foolish decisions. To survive, Garak couldn't have the luxury of this sort of feeling, and even if he did, it would do him no good.
His hands were still covered in blood, and every time that he touched Julian, he was tarnishing him. Little by little, perhaps without even intending to, Garak was corrupting Julian, taking all of that innocence and replacing it with cynicism, taking away hope with each strike of despair. Garak would still make him into someone that Julian’s old self would be appalled by and wouldn't be able to recognize.
It wasn't a good thing, but Garak didn't know if he was a good enough person to stop himself. He had never been very good at that, doing the right thing, doing what’s good and moral and self-sacrificial. In fact, he might be a disaster at it, the few occasions in which he did so always brought him dreadful consequences.
If he were a better person, if only he were a better person. Then he'd push Julian away before he started seeing the bloodstains on him as well, save him while there was still time for him to be saved, in the only way that Garak could, by keeping away from him. But if he were a better person, then maybe his hands wouldn't be covered in blood in the first place. And he never did claim that he was trying to be good.
So he maintained their lunch dates, that were that in all but name, and he carried on with all the flirtation that he knew that Julian wouldn't have the courage to follow through with, and he continued to recommend books that he knew Julian wouldn't get, and read the ones that Julian gave him. He continued doing what he knew was wrong, because he couldn't stop himself. He cared about Julian, but not enough to stop from tainting him with his corrupt ways. Not enough to push Julian away for his own safety, even as Garak recognized that that was what he should do.
Garak's hands were covered in blood, and if he wasn't careful, one day soon Julian's might be too.