TITLE: Perfectly Cardassian, Perfectly Flirting AUTHOR: BGM RATING: NC-17 {mild angst, romance, alien sex} ARCHIVE: Sure, whatever, wherever, whoever. DISCLAIMER: Paramount, bla bla bla. God I hate these. NOTE: Okay, we all hate, or love Ezri. I'm not sure yet, but this helped a hell of a lot. I like her I think. Hey, 'like' is a beginning. PART: 1 of 2 <><><> [ Chapter One ] <><><> You only see what your eyes want to see, How can I feel what you want it to be, You're frozen, When your heart's not opened. You're so consumed with how much you get, You waste your time with hate and regret, You're broken, When your heart's not opened. Hmmmmm, If I could melt your heart, Hmmmmm, We'd never be apart, Hmmmmm, Give yourself to me, Hmmmmm, You hold the key ... Frozen - Madonna <><><> Elim Garak glanced up from his work bench and lowered his eye ridges in a semblance of a faint scowl. Ezri Dax was at his door, fidgeting in-place, hands kneading one another. Garak straightened up, plastering a more felicitous smile. "Lieutenant Dax, what a pleasant and ... unexpected visit," he called, putting a slight emphasis on 'unexpected'. While owning a business, specially one with an unconventional Cardassian as shop owner, was riddled with surprises, Garak liked to be aware of everything around him. He cursed himself for not keeping a more consistent eye on the surveillance monitor buried within the couple of bolts of fabrics on his worktable. It was precisely this sort of unreadiness that had allowed Sisko to slog him quite effectively during that sorry affair with the Romulans, catching him completely by surprise. He still felt the ache in his shoulder where the table had bruised it. Ezri smiled, as though relieved that Garak had seen her. *As shy as she is, she probably is terrified of approaching people first. What a fine counselor,* he thought unkindly. He still had trouble processing this new variable which she posed in his life. While he was a prime example of one who preferred to lick his wounds alone, this young, naive woman had managed, somehow, to extricate him from a perpetual need to keep everything to himself. Garak had no trust of counselors of any kind. They reminded him too much of what he had been, not so long ago. Mind Workers. Conversational Manipulators. Interrogators. Word Fiends. Garak had been called all of those at some point or another in his career. While he very much doubted that Ezri had the inclination, or even the ability, to nefariously play with his mind, Garak had erected familiar barriers when the young woman had first approached him. He had been so embarrassed, later on, at his little outburst. Not so much because he had hurt her, but because it had been so unlike him. And some part of him couldn't resign himself to the fact he had acted perfectly Cardassian, perfectly flirting. He didn't know what it was about her. He had never had much interest, or use for women in his life. Either as companions or lovers. While Garak was not exactly a sexist, he didn't find much entertainment in discussing what females were usually interested in. When it came to literature, women were more inclined to discuss long-winded romance novels where the words 'heaving' and 'bosom' were entirely too used. Of the few conversations Garak had attempted, they ended up with the woman furiously bounding out of his quarters, blubbering something about how infuriating an insensitive man was. Garak wasn't insensitive. He just didn't ... feel. With a man, however, Garak felt at ease. A man could understand war. A man could understand casualty. A man could understand his sins. Garak had not let many men into his life, but those he had had invariably become good friends, devoted lovers, or both. No regrets in that department. Yet this Dax was something of a curiosity. Brimming with the innocence he usually found so endearing in Humans, she also harbored eight lifetimes, some of which she had spent as a he. In many ways, she would be the perfect mate. An erudite conversationalist - with enough knowledge to satisfy Garak's fanatic needs throughout his mere life span - as well as someone who had intimate lore on a man's wants and requirements. But there was still the little matter of her looking like a woman. An entirely too fragile-looking female. So self- conscious and lacking confidence. Garak disliked people he had to practice extra care around. "I'm sorry to bother you, Garak - but I was wondering if you'd like to spend your lunch hour with me? I was just going to the replimat, and I thought of you." She smiled again, and indeed, who could resist a smile like that? Her whole face illuminated, as though she had just done him the greatest favor she could bestow upon him. Perhaps she indeed thought just that. Garak answered with a staid smile. "That would be lovely, Lieutenant - unfortunately, I have much to do before the afternoon is over, and I'd rather not anger my customers by delaying their orders longer than necessary." Garak thought it was fascinating to see the cheer tangibly leave Ezri's features. How could anyone wear their emotions so openly? It still befuddled the Cardassian. With Bashir, it had been the same. So naive and innocent and bursting with eager-to-please enthusiasm. Garak had looked on sadly, tolerating the display, even becoming endeared by it. He knew, however, that all too soon that purity would be consumed once the young man got burnt a few times. And as Garak watched the not-so-young-anymore man sedately discuss the latest station news with him over their periodic lunches, the Cardassian knew it was a shame, knew it was a loss; the boyish Julian Bashir had grown into the more earnest and emotionless Jules Bashir over their few years of friendship. He mourned the fact, but knew it had to eventually happen. He was proud, in a way. He often thought it was because of his patient teachings that the doctor had blossomed into such a reserved individual. He may have lost his boyish charms, but at least he would not get burned as often anymore. //Sentiment, my dear Doctor, is the greatest weakness of all.// //If that's true, then that's a lesson I'd rather not learn.// *Ah, but you did, my dear boy, didn't you?* He blinked away the memories, and focused on Dax. Ah yes, there was still the matter of recapturing the scattered hopes of the dear, young lieutenant. Since when had Garak become so solicitous? Was it the Starfleet insignia pinned to his chest? Was it having some bizarre effects on him? He sighed softly, smiling indulgently. "But perhaps work has been a tad overwhelming lately. A pause would certainly be welcome." "Great!" Ezri enthused immediately, her good mood reinstated. Did his company mean that much to the young one? He supposed it would do no-one harm to appease the Trill. He put away his fabrics and sewing kit and inconspicuously engaged the 20 second countdown to his security array before he walked Dax out of his shop with a pleasant smile. <><><> "So Trill is sending me some information - packages of profiles, data, everything they could find to help me through the process. They've been really helpful," Ezri mused, taking a sip of her raktegino. Garak watched her guardedly, one eye narrowed. Finally he leaned forward and said, "Tell me, Lieutenant--" "Please, call me Ezri," she smiled sweetly. Garak blinked. Even Julian had never so much as mentioned being called by his first name. Hesitating a fraction of a second, Garak quickly smiled. "I'd rather not." This time, he did not succumb to Ezri's sulking look. "As I was saying, how is it that having the memories of eight lifetimes - and I would think those includes several training sessions - you cannot handle this situation?" Dax shrugged halfheartedly, looking down into her mug. "I guess it's not so much the memories that make the process any easier. I'm not sure how to explain it ... It's like watching a holovid on how to play hover ball. You'll see it, you'll learn from it, you'll snap your fingers and say how easy it looks, but when you find yourself with the paddle and the ball and see how big the arena really is, how fast the ball really goes, and how slow you really are at this game, you tell yourself you better practice a few rounds before inviting your friends for a match." Garak squinted at her for a moment before he leaned back into his chair. "I see. So in essence, the process is always very new to a recently-joint Trill. I had not realized," he confessed. "Well, it's not *completely* and *totally* new. I mean - the fact I have a symbiont swimming somewhere in my belly isn't an entirely new sensation. And I'm getting used to having eight different voices dictating what I should say in the next sentence. It gets rowdy at times, but I've started practicing filtering out what I don't find appropriate, and get something semi-coherent out of my mouth." She looked embarrassed and hung her head slightly. "But not always." Garak smiled at this. "Well I'm certain your friend will excuse any little mishaps from your part in the near future. I would not concern myself with it so much. Certainly not as much as you do. My dear, you place far too much emphasis on how crude your abilities are. While I am not quite sure why the Captain saw it fit to promote you," he lifted his palm to arrest another heartbreaking look from Ezri, "Mind you, I'm quite happy for you, Lieutenant, but let us face the facts - you've said so yourself; you were an assistant to a counselor - an *ensign* - whose promotion was not based on experience and devoted service, but rather on a tenuous agreement that you'd stay on Deep Space Nine. A reward," he added, a bit sadly. "Nonetheless, I'm quite certain you'll prove yourself worthy of the rank. You shouldn't look down at yourself so much, Lieutenant - if you persist in doing that, then perhaps your promotion will indeed be in vain, won't it?" Garak dabbed the corners of his mouth with his napkin. "Now if you'll excuse me - while this light meal was most enjoyable, I should really be on my way." He left the table without another word, leaving Ezri to stare moodily into her raktegino, pondering Garak's claims. She sighed, and was about to leave, when a shadow fell upon her. She looked up, then smiled. "Julian. Hi." "Well, that's not quite the response I was expecting," Julian Bashir smiled, pulling up a chair. "I just saw Garak leave," he added when he was seated. Ezri looked up, but her friend was unreadable. What a counselor she made indeed. "Yeah - we had lunch together. He's really getting along with his claustrophobia. I'm glad I could help him," she said, trying to mask the true meaning of what had transpired mere minutes ago at this table. She couldn't. Her face was an open book, and Bashir saw right through it. "Did he say something to you? You look like you just lost your best friend. Instead of answering the question, Ezri frowned at something, then leaned in eagerly. "Julian, why did you refer him to me?" The question caught the doctor off-guard. He hesitated for a moment before he grew the courage to speak. "I'm not sure I understand ... you're a counselor, aren't you?" "So? There was a counselor onboard way before I ever came along. But you've never had to refer anyone to a counselor before, because you're a psychologist yourself, aren't you? So why did you refer Garak - your best friend, I might add - to me, when you were in a better position to help him than I was?" Julian became altogether closed. His lips tightened into a thin line, and his eyes stared at her blandly. She wasn't sure if he was going to reply at all until he inhaled and said, "It would have been too complicated." Ezri pushed on. "Complicated how?" The young man suddenly looked as though he wanted to be someplace else. "It's nothing, really. I just thought he'd like a change of faces for once. Not have to deal with my petty 'mothering', as he calls it. He thinks I spend far too much time fussing over him." Ezri cocked her head. "That's not the real reason, and we both know it." She took a breath before she added, "You like him, don't you? I mean ... you like him as more than a friend, I think." "Ezri, you're speaking nonsense." The blush was unmistakable. Enhanced or not, there was no mistaking that guilty, crimson look on Julian's face. "No I'm not. I think you're afraid that if you show more care to him than you have up to now, that he'll realize you have feelings for him. Julian, why don't you tell him?" Ezri was shocked when Julian leaned forward, face darkened with acrimony. "Do yourself a favor, Ezri - I know you're a *counselor* now, but don't bother meddling in *my* business, all right? We're friends, and that's it. Contend yourself with that, and don't go looking for solutions to problems that do not exist." He stood abruptly, as though trying to regain his scattered wits, then left the replimat silently. "This was happening right beneath my nose, and I never saw it," she murmured beneath her breath. She looked around, suddenly self-conscious, then in turn left the replimat. Her counseling session with Leeta was only starting at 0300 - she had time to spare. <><><> "Well well ... twice in one day. People will think we're indulging in a few intimate trysts." Ezri frowned, blushing slightly at the comment. She pushed forward, determined not to let Garak derail her from her true purpose. And what *was* her purpose, anyway? Julian had explicitly told her not to get involved. Wasn't it exactly what she was doing right now? "I ... Actually, I'm not sure why I'm here. I just had a brief conversation with Julian, and ..." She stared quizzically at the Cardassian. Something in his eyes had changed. Subtle, very faint, but Ezri saw it. He was guarded now. Moreso than usual. It would not be such an easy task after all, but she had opened her mouth already. Working her lips over silent words for a moment, Ezri closed her eyes, inhaled, then proceeded to continue her sentence. "Actually, I'm a bit concerned for the two of you." Garak's voice and demeanor had a dangerous edge to them as he straightened up. "Are you! How very ... irrelevant for you. What possible concern would you have over such a mundane matter? I had no idea Doctor Bashir's friendship to me was the subject of gossip nowadays." His smile turned deadly. "Or have I missed something?" Ezri ignored the warning tone and took a step forward. "*His* friendship to *you* ...," she echoed. "You don't reciprocate the sentiment?" she inquired carefully. Garak suddenly moved, and Ezri froze when she felt the Cardassian closer than was comfortable, lips pressed to her ear, a hand on her shoulder. "Lieutenant," he whispered menacingly, "While I appreciate your considerate efforts in helping me sort my demons, I should tell you that I have no appreciation for those who attempt to psychoanalyze *me*. Take your inquiries elsewhere, as you are treading on very ambiguous grounds already." When Ezri opened her eyes, the tailor was further into his shop, already sorting through his kits and fabrics. She took a step back, another, then was out of his shop before she knew it. <><><> "If you ask me, let them be. I never understood Bashir's fascination with that spoon-head." Kira turned around and saw Ezri's face. She lifted her palms, sighing. "I know, I know. He's been a great help to us lately. His efforts during the Dominion war have been nothing short of commendable ..." she twirled her hand, nodding along with the practiced speech. "So on and so on. I've said it enough times to the Bajora, trying to convince them he's on our side. But still. He's Cardassian. He'll always be Cardassian. He'll never be anything more, or anything less. And you," she warned, pointing her finger at the Trill, "should be more careful. Meddling in Garak's business is not always a safe approach." "Now you tell me," Ezri sighed, shuddering as she felt the ghostly imprint of Garak's hand on her shoulder. She had felt the power in those fingers - fingers that had no doubt killed countless during his career. "But Nerys - I mean, I have Jadzia's memories," she said, a bit careless since Kira looked suddenly uncomfortable. She watched the Bajoran woman as she sat down, eyes slanted in sorrow while she nodded. "And ... I can see through her eyes how they became friends, close friends. Something happened ... I don't know." She shrugged, exasperated. "Maybe you're right. I shouldn't meddle. But dammit, this gives me the right to meddle!" she excused, holding up her arm to display the small, inconspicuous pin all Counselors wore on their right sleeve. Kira sighed softly, pursing her lips in almost amused sadness. "Maybe so, but Garak just isn't the type to let someone like you get into his mind. Once you're in there, I imagine it's not a pretty place." There was silent agreement from Dax, who then shook her head and bid her newfound friend good night. Kira watched her leave sadly, wondering if another 'talk' with Garak was in order. Evidently, what he thought of her mattered, and whatever he said affected her. No, she thought, returning inside. There were enough people meddling with each other's business to have her add to the mix. With a yawn, she retired to the bedroom where Odo waited for her with a smile, and very little else. "Odo!" she exclaimed. "How did you ... never mind. I suppose you were the candle this time," she quipped good-naturedly. "Actually, I just sort of ... slithered in while you and Lieutenant Dax were conversing." He seemed quite pleased at his ability to sneak around them without notice. "How naughty of you," Kira purred, bounding into bed while thoughts of Dax's dilemma was far from her mind. <><><> [ Chapter Two ] I was angry when I met you, I think I may be still. We could try and talk it over, If you'll say you'll help me out. Don't worry baby, No need to fight. Don't worry baby, We'll be all right. This is the noise that keeps me awake, My head explodes! And my body aches! Push it! Like a beast on fire. Push it! Like a beast on fire. Push It - Garbage <><><> Garak felt unable to sleep. Not now, not when so much was going on in his mind. Lieutenant Dax - damn her, and damn her second-rate textbook counseling techniques - had been the cause of all this. Despite his resentment, she had brought up some painful thoughts about the good doctor. While it was no business of hers, he supposed she only meant well. While ambling around the station at this subdued hour, Garak found himself staying toward the doctor's quarters. He realized it soon enough, and turned away with a frustrated sigh. What good would it accomplish to arrive unannounced? What possible excuse could he offer? For once, Garak's erudite ability at deception was impotent in finding anything he could use. He simply *had* no excuse. He just wanted to see him. It had been so long since Garak had dropped in on someone just for the sake of seeing them that the sensation was foreign to him. Everything he did nowadays was laced with some obscure ulterior motive. Bemused, he stopped at Quark's for a midnight snack. *Splendid. Just the person I *didn't* want to see tonight,* he thought, spotting Dax sitting by herself in a booth. She had not seen him yet, and Garak had every intention to duck out of her eyesight before she did. Yet ... something about her. She looked on the verge of depression, stirring her beverage with slack enthusiasm. Garak sighed, straightened his tunic, then headed toward her direction. Before he knew it, he was pulling up a chair beside her. Together they watched the few patrons in their line of vision, silent for the moment. "Look," she said finally. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by ... what I said this afternoon. I guess ... I guess I was trying to find out why you guys aren't as good friends as you once were." She looked back dejectedly at the bar, slumping her shoulders. "I didn't mean to meddle," she added. Garak absorbed this for a while, simply watching others as they interacted at this hour of the night. No Dabo was being played, nor was profit being made either. People seemed to gather here for personal musing, or just chat with friends. There was only one Ferengi on-duty, passing a drink here and there on occasion. He sighed, then glanced sideways to Dax. "There is a reason why we do not see each other as often as ... I'd like," he admitted, quite painfully. Somehow, opening up to her wasn't as illicit as he'd imagined. "I feel that as the years passed, Doctor Bashir ... simply grew up. It was easy, with a naive innocent such as he was in the beginning. Easy to impress him, to mix him up in tales of intrigue and the sort. It was refreshing for both of us, I think. But then he grew wise, and ... I do believe, as painful as it is, he simply grew bored of me." Dax shook her head quickly. "Oh no Garak, you mustn't think that. You don't just ... get bored with a friendship. I don't care how plausible that sounds to you, you just don't. Not when true friends are involved, and I think both of you were very close friends. If it's the reason you strayed ..." "It's not the only reason," Garak interrupted politely. When Ezri got a good look at his eyes, pale blue, though slightly lowered with ... shame? Or guilt? It came to her right away. "Then ... tell him." Garak opened his mouth to protest, looked at her, and saw that she was right. He leaned back into his chair, heaving a sigh. Tell him. It was so simple, wasn't it? <><><> Bashir murmured in his sleep. He was having a bizarre dream, all of a sudden; he had been in the midst of an operation on his own father, trying to repair tissue damage. Now the scalpel in his hand was ringing. Quite insistently too. It dawned on him at that moment that he might not be dreaming this at all, and when he woke with a start, the chime rang one last time. Muttering carelessly, he threw on a robe over his shoulders and went to the door, cursing under his breath that whoever it was, they better be dying, or dead. At first, there was no-one in the corridor, which infuriated the doctor even more. Practical jokes now? He stepped out of his quarters, sweeping his gaze sideways. He caught sight of Garak, walking away slowly. He frowned, tightening the robe a little better around himself then called out to him. "Garak? Are you okay?" The Cardassian turned, startled, and with a moment of hesitation, began walking back. "I ... had assumed you were too deeply asleep to hear my calls," he explained his departure. Bashir rubbed sleep out of his eyes, then squinted at Garak. "Well, I *was* comfortably sleeping, and you don't look like you're on the threshold of the Great Death or anything ..." he trailed off, blocking the entrance to his quarters and looking as though he wouldn't budge until he heard a pretty damn good explanation. Garak winced. "I apologize ... and moreso for what I am about to say than my inconveniencing you," he added. Julian's eyes opened a little wider at this. Garak bowed his head. "My reason for visiting ... is simply because I miss you. And it seems that whenever I see you during the day, you are off to do something else." Julian blinked at this, then realized belatedly that they were having this sort of conversation outside. He shook his head slightly, erasing the lingering shock over what Garak had just admitted, and moved to the side. "Come in, Garak," he said, more softly. Once inside, Garak chose a seat, and held his forehead with his hand. "I am not accustomed to doing this, please understand," he said, a bit vulnerably. Bashir had never seen the Cardassian act this way before. He sat beside him, and a bit hesitantly, if not clumsily, he put his hand on the older man's shoulder. He had no idea what to say. "Doctor," Garak said suddenly, looking up. "Forgive me for what I am about to do, but we Cardassians have a saying; rejection is quickly forgotten, yet missed opportunities hound you for life. I'm about to use such an opportunity," he whispered, sending a massive wave of panic in Bashir. What--? Before he knew it, he was laying back against the couch's armrest, a bulky Cardassian leaning into him and surprisingly tender lips pressed against his own. This was Garak! Bashir pushed back against his chest, struggling for air. When this was supplied adequately, he found his voice crying out with outrage. "Garak! For God's sake ... get off me!" Fear had compelled him to do so, but as he watched Garak sit back dejectedly, Julian immediately sorry for his outburst. Catching his air, Bashir sat up. "I'm ... I'm sorry Garak, you just ... you know, Boom! There you were," he explained, gesturing with his hands. Garak shook his head. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come here." "Hold on, wait!" Bashir stood, attempting to halt his friend's second departure. "Don't be that way, I was just surprised. A little shocked ..." A faint, very faint, smile lifted his lips. "Impressed ..." He shook his head, "But that's not the point. Garak, is this why ..." he motioned at the space between them. "If this why you and I haven't been ... you know, seeing each other?" Garak faced him evenly, eyes alight with ... something; Julian couldn't be sure. "You tell me, Doctor. This is as much your doing as it is mine. I didn't see you try and renew our lunches when I drifted away. I never heard you asking me for an explanation either." Julian shied away guiltily. "You're right," he confessed. "But I always thought you had just ... grown bored with me. I didn't want to annoy you ..." He stopped when Garak began chuckling. "Well, you don't have to mock me for it," he replied indignantly. "Oh no, Doctor, I'm certainly not mocking you. In a way, I'm mocking myself. All this time ... oh my, I really did miss the mark on this one this time, didn't I?" Unsure what the Cardassian meant, Julian sighed and retreated to the couch. Garak followed, a little more sedately, and sat down next to him. "Do you ...?" Garak inquired mysteriously, lifting his eyes to stare into Julian's. Bashir felt panic overwhelm him once more and he leaned back slightly. "Do I what?" Garak followed him, and captured his lips in a second kiss. While shocked beyond his senses that this was happening, Julian found himself responding quickly to the sensuality of Garak's touch. His lips parted under Garak's probing tongue, and his eyes flew wide open when it made contact with his own. A virgin to kissing a man, Bashir recalled the time he had so ignorantly boasted that nothing compared to a woman's lips, her scent, her touch. This ... was so much more sensual. Was it because he secretly delighted in a man's company rather than a woman's, or was it because this was *Garak*, of all people? When Garak leaned in more, Bashir decided to put off those questions for later. For now, rather insistent needs were making themselves known. "Garak," he panted when the kiss ended, blinking wildly as he tried to tame his wildly beating heart. Against his shoulder, Garak smiled impishly. Abruptly, he inserted his head through the crook of Julian's armpit, then simply stood up. Bashir yelped, flailing wildly as he was lifted. Landing a few, halfhearted blows against Garak's back, Bashir turned his head, feeling the blood rush to his brain. "Garak, what are you doing?" "Making our location a little more inviting," he purred. Bashir gasped, feeling the rumble vibrate against his waist where one of Garak's neck ridges was supporting it. "I hate being carried," he said bitterly, slumping into the undignified position when Garak didn't let him down. "This is how Neanderthals used to carry their mates, you know. Very embarrassing, with their asses in the air like that." He jumped when he felt Garak's hand swat his derriere. Not gently, either. "I rather like the way your behind looks at the moment. Although I have a sneaking suspicion I'll revise this commentary when I actually get those dreadful clothes off of you." At this point, Julian was feeling the touch of panic returning. Did Garak know he had never done this? Could he even admit that fact? And what about all those alarming rumors he had heard from Bajorans on how Cardassians mated? When Garak dropped him none too gently on his own bed, Bashir looked up at him. Garak's heart raced when he saw in those eyes the same vulnerability and innocence he had once come to adore. "You'll be ... that is, you won't ... hit me or anything, will you?" he asked, and Garak looked at him for a long moment, bemused. "*Hit* you? Why in Frigid Oblivion would I do such a horrid thing?" He knelt over the bed, bringing his hand up to cup Julian's chin. "Such lovely flesh should not be marred. It should be licked ..." he purred, leaning in to dab his tongue on the spot just beneath the doctor's ear. Bashir shuddered. "Perhaps a nip or two wouldn't hurt ..." he whispered guiltily, feeling his chest heave greatly with his breaths. A wave of heat had passed through his temples, down the sides of his neck, all the way down to his belly. Now it cramped up with anticipation, and he felt the first stirrings of arousal stiffen his cock. Garak chuckled, more menacingly than he'd intended, against Bashir's ear. Baring his teeth, he captured the delicate lobe and gnawed once on it, feeling the trembling young man start. He smiled against the tawny flesh, and began his descent. First a flutter of kisses against the delicate throat. A few tailoring maneuvers, and the uniform was crumpled at Bashir's waist. Was this happening? Bashir leaned back on his hands, arching his back as Garak left a trail of saliva and teeth marks down his chest, round his navel, back up to finish off a nipple. By the time he was sucking it, Julian was flushed, panting, and yearning for more. Never in all his 33 years had he ever imagine sex with a man would be this incredible. And they weren't even naked yet. Well, not completely. The ministrations paused for a moment, and when Bashir opened his eyes, he caught Garak shedding the last sleeve off his arm then throwing the tunic in a corner carelessly. His Garak? Careless about clothes? And just when had he become *his* Garak? The thought flew out of his mind when cool hands touched his shoulder blades, descending with rigid fingers all the way to the small of his back. He felt sure garish crimson marks had been left behind. What's more, he didn't care. Suddenly he straightened up, bringing Garak with him. "I can't ..." he whispered, out of breath, "I can't go all the way ... I mean, I'm not ready," he said, a bit embarrassed. Garak, who already had less than a tenuous hold on his lust, grunted his ascent, and exerted just enough force to bring them level with the bed. Flat on his back, Julian began giggling without control when Garak bent down further to access his trousers. He looked up, puzzled, then realized that when he brushed his hands 'oh so accidentally' over Bashir's sides, the Human would begin laughing and writhing uncontrollably. Interesting. Garak touched his sides again. "Oh Garak, please!" Julian managed to cry between fits of laughter. Garak was impressed at Julian's strength when he tried to claw himself free. "Please, I can't take it ... Oh GOD, STOP! I'll do anything, please, just stop!" he wailed, laughter bringing tears to his eyes. Garak stopped finally, quietly wondering about Human fragility. Who needed a whip, when tickling them seemed to the job just as adequately. He smiled wickedly, and without waiting for the Human to adequately regain his wits, he plunged forward with an indecent laugh. <><><> A few moments following their enthusiastic play, Garak and Bashir lay in quiet solicitude, Julian's cheek pressed against the Cardassian's belly while his back was scratched and caressed. If Garak didn't stop soon, he'd be drooling in a few minutes. They had opted to stretch their sensual encounter, having not yet consumed their arousal so that they may remember this day for a long time into the future. Julian, however, was eager to try things he'd only read and heard about from journals and friends. Besides, Garak's manhood looked far too inviting to be left all alone like that. Smiling mischievously, Julian slowly slid downward, letting his teeth graze against the scaly flesh. He heard Garak hiss, then felt him shift and arch the small of his back a little. It was long after that that Julian had his first encounter with a very foreign object. It was a good thing that he had asked to delay their complete union for another day - he was unsure if that would fit very comfortably inside him. The shaft that comprised Garak's manhood was deeply ribbed, with little scales that flared with his arousal. There was a thick, scented liquid that oozed between them and the indentations. No testicles, he noticed - probably some unnecessary weakness the Cardassians had adapted to deal without early on in their evolution. Semi-hard, the tailor was already a good five inches long. Bashir glanced up, a bit hesitantly, at his newfound lover before he took the member in his hand. Garak tensed, inhaling sharply. "Garak, don't ... hate me if I ... I mean, I've never done this," he said shyly. "Specially not to a Cardassian." Garak watched him through a haze of lust. Were it not for careful barriers of control, the tailor would have probably raped the young man by now. It did no good to tease a Cardassian, but he would have to practice patience, and teach the doctor how to properly treat him. Sexually, anyhow. He bared his teeth for a moment, then grunted out, "Just ... take it. I'm sure you've seen how," he quipped. Julian was startled by the forceful order, and decided not to linger in the task any further. He bowed his head, and first kissed the tip, which had grown a dark russet color since he'd started watching the fascinating changes. The natural lubricant tasted formidably foreign, and Bashir idly wondered if this was any good for his weaker Human metabolism. Then he realized making Garak wait would probably be more dangerous to his health, so in one stroke, managed to get in his mouth three inches. He couldn't believe he was doing this. He'd never even contemplated such a thing a week ago. Then again, he had never felt quite so excited before either. Slowly he grew accustomed to the taste, and began administrating slow, provocative strokes on Garak's cock with his tongue. That distinct purr rumbled within Garak's body again, and Bashir thought he'd never heard anything quite so exquisitely ... animalistic. This encouraged him, and another inch was added, already quite a mouth full. The thing was ... vibrating, was that right? Julian panicked for a moment, harboring silly thoughts that he was doing this wrong and Garak's cock would do something like explode, or ... *something*. But the vibrations slowed, until he felt his cock harden in his mouth. There was a long, drawn-out sigh from the tailor, and Julian glanced up. He frowned a bit, but continued, now using his hand to cover the base. After a moment of this, Garak looked down, wincing. "Doctor ... I believe you're ..." he winced again, "... hurting me now." Julian let go of Garak's member with a sloppy sound, then licked his lips. "But, you're not ... I mean, I'm not done ... am I?" he inquired. Garak stared at him without understanding for a long moment. "Did you not feel it? It was quite ... *quite* exquisite," he purred. "That's it?!" Bashir said with shock. "You came?" "Came where? What are you talking about?" "Did you ... I mean, did you go? Did you ... are you finished?" Bashir found himself stammering, unsure if something wonderful had just happened without his knowledge. "Yes, Doctor - I'm quite finished." With a wave of his hand, he indicated his organ, which was already softening. Bashir frowned again. "No ... I mean, you don't ... God, I think I have one or two things to add in the Cardassian Medical database ..." he murmured. Garak peered curiously at him. "What were you expecting?" "A larger mess," he grinned sheepishly. "I ... ah, come here ... I believe you have something to give back ..." he invited seductively. The Cardassian lifted himself from his prone position, answering the smile with one of his own. "Ah yes, of course - such devoted and skillful attention could not go unrewarded indeed." Bashir leaned back on his elbows, his whole body suddenly like a live wire. When Garak's cool hands touched his thighs, parting them carefully, he jumped, his flesh crawling with goose bumps. The Cardassian pulled away quickly. "Doctor!" he urged with alarm. Bashir opened his eyes, sitting up quickly. "What?!" "You have an outbreak of ... your skin, it's ... bumpy. Hold on ..." Garak looked closer. "Well it was. I'm sure of it. Are you feeling all right?" Bashir laughed openly. "That was normal. Don't Cardassians get goose bumps?" Garak grimaced with polite distaste. "Whatever those are, I'm sure we don't. Now ... where was I? We can leave the medical lesson for another time." He leaned in once more, a bit more cautiously this time. Bashir watched him with a smile, wondering what the Cardassian will do when he'll find himself with ... quite a mouth full. *I've been wanting to shut you up for ages Garak, maybe this will.* He almost giggled before he caught himself. "Should you be sweating so much? We're not in a sauna," Garak remarked. Bashir hummed pleasantly. "Very normal," he repeated. "Under the circumstances, you should consider that very flattering." "I'll take your word for it." "Garak, you're dawdling." "My apologies," the tailor said smoothly, smiling before he bent his head down. He crumpled his nose at the velvety cover of hair nestling the Human's organ. Yet when he parted his lips and allowed the cock inside his mouth, his eyes opened fully and a look of utter delight smoothed his features. Bashir was in the process of moaning when Garak pulled back and said, "I've never tasted anything quite so delectable in my life," he said with quiet awe. Julian grunted with frustration, lifting his hips. "Great, so maybe you'll spend more time down there than up here yaking your mouth off." His eyes opened and Garak saw the immediate need swimming in the depths of those mahogany jewels. He smiled and returned Julian his due attention. When Julian felt close to the peak, he panted loudly, then managed to say, "If ... you like ... the taste, you're about ... to get a treat!" He cried out, his elbows unable to support him any further as he crumpled on his back. Garak, puzzled by his comment, looked up, then a look of utter shock permeated his features as some ... substance filled his mouth quickly. What the ... Not knowing what to do, he simply swallowed, enjoying the bittersweet taste, almost saddened when the flow eventually eased, then stopped. He licked his lips, and stood over his young friend, marveling at the many secrets this being held. He smiled when Julian opened his eyes. "You're indeed a treat, Julian Bashir. Was that a rarity, or is this ... ejaculation a common thing among you Human males?" "Oh it happens every time ... well, I mean ... Let's just say Cardassians vibrate, Humans ejaculate. Human men that is. How come ... you don't?" he asked, crawling up to Garak so they could both lie down properly. "We just, don't," the Cardassian shrugged. "How do you conceive?" Garak looked oddly at his companion, then he reached down to touch his stomach. Julian followed the gesture, then let out a small sound of surprise. "How stupid of me," he said, inspecting the small, scaly sacks hidden behind the two major ridges that comprised Garak's abdomen. "Reptiles ... you conceive like reptiles. Like Terran reptiles, I mean," he explained, snuggling back into Garak's arms. "So, essentially ... Cardassians lay eggs?" "Well not exactly. Over time, size has had a major factor in a strand of considerable changes in our physiognomy. Indeed, my ancestors used to lay eggs. Today, the fetus is still enveloped in a shell, though the shell has become much more pliant and accommodating. A woman will also carry it, instead of laying it, as it were. Much cleaner and tidier," he remarked before yawning hugely. "I'm sorry. I guess a lesson in evolution isn't exactly what's called for at the moment," Julian smiled sheepishly. Garak settled back against the headboard, and caressed Julian's tousled hair slowly. He looked off pensively for a moment, then smiled. "I was thinking that perhaps we should treat Lieutenant Dax to a meal." Julian yawned as well, then shifted into Garak's embrace as he murmured drowsily, "Mmyes, I was thinking the same thing." Sleep engulfed him a few minutes following, leaving Garak to quietly enjoy the moment, tangled intimately with the one he was certain he wanted to learn all about love with. THE END