Just as Paramount stole their lake and mountain logo from nature, so also do I steal Garak and Bashir and a couple of other things from them. Wait... it's not stealing, it's _homage_, and what's more no attempt is being made to fiscally profit from the exercise. A Certain Person has suggested, with charming flattery, that I try my hand at some DS9 slash, which these days is like suggesting that I try eating Godiva chocolate while watching Mystery Science Theater 3000. So this one's going out to you, Certain Person; I hope you know who you are, and like my humble little offering. This story rather naively presupposes that Garak and Bashir are Just Good Friends, but rectifies that unfortunate scenario in an exotic setting... Rated R for guys doin' guys, and in public, too. One Night in Bangkok by Debra Tabor comments to menippee@rain.org "Thank you, come again," Garak said cheerily as his patron left, and began humming a coy Cardassian show tune. Now that Odo had become solid, Garak just loved it when the Constable came in for fittings. Odo was so... virginal. So... discomfited by the intimacies required by the tailor's art. Absently, the Cardassian fiddled with a stack of baseball jerseys, glad that the Obsidian Order Civilian Job Aptitude Index had scored and tracked him into this new career. A chime sounded, and Garak looked up, ready to greet his new patron. Ahhh, but life was good, for it was none other than Julian Bashir making an appearance in the shop. _What I wouldn't give to be that man's in-seam!_ Garak thought briefly before greeting his friend with warmth that was sincere for all its appearance of smarminess. "Have you any time for an overworked medic?" Julian was asking lightly. "Lunch today, Julian?" The young man shook his head, promise in his smile. "Better than lunch," he said, and Garak could have sworn he heard seduction in the doctor's voice. "Better than Quark's tortellini?" Garak was arch and coy. Oh, but he loved the dance of seduction! Julian was waving a chip at him. "New holo program!" Garak groaned. "Not Secret Agent Super Dragon or whatever that ridiculous spy game is called!" "You said you were up for a re-match," Julian chided. Garak sighed. "I don't suppose an Enigma Tale..." "Yawn." Garak snorted at the younger man's naiveté. No one in the know thought the Enigma Tales were a bore. "Julian," he asked speculatively, "have you ever been in a Cardassian prison?" Julian paled visibly. "No, and I can't say as I want to." "Hmmm, I suppose not," Garak said dismissively, as he turned away from his friend to tidy up his desk. "Even you couldn't eroticize the experience," he added quietly, smirking to himself as he heard Julian start to ask him to repeat himself, then think better of it. Garak held a gardenia to his nose and inhaled deeply. _Oh, but some pleasures should be illegal,_ he thought unrepentantly, then turned back to the good doctor, who was now flushing where so recently he had paled. "Secret Agent Super Dragon it is," Garak said, and they adjoined to the holo-suite. *** Sex was assaulting every sense from all directions. "I thought your little spy game was confined to pre-Contact Earth," Garak said to Julian. "How did we end up on Orion?" Julian laughed, giving Garak a fine view of his even white teeth. "This isn't Orion," Julian explained as they began moving through the street's nighttime crowds. "This is Bangkok, an East Asian city in the Earth tropical zone. For the century between the two Great World Wars, it was the biggest fleshpot on the planet." "And where does Miss Lovesit fit into all of this?" "Ah, well, Mona isn't a part of this program. We're supposed to be going to a place called the CumKuat Klub to rendezvous with a contact." "I must say," said Garak as a very pretty young male holo-whore fondled him intimately before disappearing into the crowd, "I do like this one a lot better, even if it isn't any more realistic than the last." "Watch your wallet," was all Julian said. The CumKuat Klub seemed at first to be just like Quarks, only with fewer bells and whistles and a more homogenous patron base. *Very* homogenous, Garak noted as an Asian, no more than seventeen, seated them. All though the rainbow of skin and hair colors Earth had to offer was very much in evidence, the alleged fairer sex was no where in evidence. Granted, there were a few patrons in dresses, but they were so obviously dragged out for the evening... "Ah, the floor show is about to start," Julian was saying as he drank deep from his gin and tonic. Garak also sipped his eagerly; he'd loved the drink from the first time Julian had insisted he try it. Nice bite, and it carried with it an evocative tang of nostalgia for the Cardassian Recreational Forest where he'd lost his virginity on an Obsidian Youth Brotherhood expedition so many years ago... Garak suddenly realized that something important had been said. What was it? "Floor show?" he asked Julian. "Yeah, floor show," Julian said, as if Garak were a total moron. "Some people are going to get up on the stage..." _Stage? It's the size of a data padd, and a mere three feet away_, Garak thought as Julian continued. "...And perform sexual acts for us to watch." Garak felt his jaw dropping and his cock stiffening. "A sex act?" he asked, leaning forward. Julian drank again. "Well, yes. More than one actually." Garak settled back, delight replacing shock. "You know, just when I'm ready to give up on the Human species, they totally amaze and enrapture me anew." The music, up till then a vague background noise, was increasing in volume. Conversation was no longer possible, but it wasn't really necessary either, for the show had begun. Two tuxedo-clad young men, one blonde and muscular, the other darker and slim (_Julian's coloring and build_, Garak noted, and his cock swelled more) were dancing slowly on the tiny stage. The music was some sort of cloyingly sentimental recorded piece about being crazy for loving someone or other, yet its romantic and tonal clichés seemed to fit. The men had started out dancing the traditional Earth two step, several inches between them, the taller of the couple leading. _Very sweet,_ Garak thought with disgust as he again sipped his g-n-t. _So much for the Human notion of what a sex performance should be._ Even so, Garak's cock remained full and ready. He was surprised by how much the sight of the two fully dressed young men dancing was continuing to effect him. The dance, however, was changing. Two pairs of feet were barely shuffling, and somehow there was no space between the young men's bodies as they rubbed against each other with clearly sexual intent. Garak could see the blond man's face: he looked knowing and experienced. Suddenly, the shorter man was pulling away, giving the audience a look at his face. Garak's breath caught in his throat. Not just at the man's face, which was so like Julian's that Garak glanced across the table to make sure that it *wasn't* Julian, but at the expression on it. The young man's face carried an expression of exquisite agony, and Garak responded to it with the same sexual intensity as if youth had been on his knees before the Cardassian, his lips ready to pleasure him. Shame and desire were at war on the young man's face, knowing and seduction on his blond partner. Garak had forgotten his earlier scorn for the scene. As the young man pulled away, the blond restrained him, holding his upper arm with one hand and clamping the other around the younger man's jaw, forcing him to meet his eyes. The young man reluctantly looked at his partner, shamed by his submission, aroused by it. Garak, mouth dry with need, reached for his drink without taking his eyes of the pair. The blond had brushed his lips lightly over the shorter man's lips, then released his jaw to pull their bodies close together. Garak's mind could feel everything the men were showing, the dark man's hesitancy and desire, the blond man's dominance and experience. Garak shut his eyes briefly, but that made his desire stronger, for in his mind it was he and Julian on the stage, Julian surrendering to him with such delicious hesitancy, such a delightful combination of fear and desire. Surreptitiously, Garak reached under the table stroke himself through his trousers. When Garak looked again, the blond was forcefully, masterfully kissing the brunette, using strong hands to hold the smaller man's instinctively thrusting hips against his. The younger man was making low, frenzied noises as he bucked and writhed against his partner. Garak continued touching himself, increasing the tempo and roughness of his stroke. His other hand was still on the table, clenching reflexively at the tablecloth. The part of Garak that had been a professional at things best left to professionals for so many years noted that Bashir and their waiter had just completed a discreet transaction, then returned to watch the blond man remove his tuxedo jacket with slow deliberation, then do the same to his partner. A warm hand touching Garak's clenched fist was like a knife-stab to the stomach. White heat shot through Garak, and he pulled his other hand away from his cock. Had he really nearly brought himself off in a public place? "I've got what we were supposed to get," Julian was saying. "Let's move on." "Let me finish my drink," snapped Garak. He had been interrupted just seconds from orgasm, and now he needed to calm himself enough so that he could walk with a minimum of discomfort. A few minutes later, he thought he was ready to leave. He was still hard, but at least he'd stopped leaking. But he was still so far gone he didn't care who noticed the bulge under his trousers. *** "We need to get a hotel room," Julian was saying as they emerged back into the crowded, noisy street. "Why go to the trouble?" Garak demanded. His cosmopolitan Cardassian -about-town veneer was gone, stripped by need and arousal. He pulled Julian into a convenient alley. "Why indeed?" Julian astonished Garak by saying. But the two men were on different wavelengths. "Now that I've got the information, we can fast-forward the program to morning and take the train to Kuala Lumpur to meet Al-Haqq, who will take us to the casino..." Garak was fed up with the ridiculous spy caper. "We won't be fast-forwarding anything," he growled, and pulled Julian forcibly into his arms. Garak looked down into Julian's face, drinking in his expression of conflicted desire. So aroused, so shamed, so like the performer back at the nightclub... Garak pulled Julian's mouth to his, kissing him with a strength and passion that had been building for months. Julian's hesitation vanished, and his mouth was opening in surrender to Garak's, a low moaning in his throat. Garak pulled back to look at Julian's face again, not bothering to hide the triumph of conquest he felt. Julian's hips were bucking against his, the younger man's desire evident. "You're an easy little slut, aren't you, Julian?" Garak asked conversationally. "Your slut," Julian was whimpering, barely coherent. "Please, Garak, oh, please, oh, please," he chanted hoarsely, and Garak could resist no more. "On your knees, and do something about those trousers," he ordered brusquely, taking Julian's obedience for granted. As Garak lowered his own trousers, Julian was dropping to the ground and following suit, automatically turning to offer his slender ass to the Cardassian. Quickly, afraid that lingering on the task would end things far to soon, Garak used his own pre-ejaculate to lubricate himself. He planted his hands strongly on either of Julian's hips, and plunged forward. Garak had meant to draw it out, meant not to ravish Julian with such a lack of finesse, but Julian was shoving himself backward even as Garak thrust forward, both men groaning as they strained for release. Garak moved faster and faster, not caring about anything but the body below him, not hearing the crowds on the street, the white noise of the station, or even his own grunts as he took his pleasure. It was over too quickly for both of them, but they had waited so long, teasing each other with words and glances and casual contact for months and years, all leading up to this moment. Both came together, their names on each other's lips. Garak collapsed in exhaustion, barely managing to fall to his side, carrying Julian with him, still holding the younger man's hips in a strong grip. For a few moments, they allowed themselves to revel in their closeness, but then exhaustion overcame them, and they drowsed *** "Bashir to Dax," Julian whispered at his comm badge, checking to make sure that Garak was still sleeping peacefully on the alley floor. "Dax here!" "Jadzia, just wanted to thank you again for helping me modify that program." A Trill of laughter came back at him. "Anything to get you off my back," she teased. "Did it work?" Julian looked down to where Elim Garak was coming awake, utterly oblivious to the conversation going on above him, but not too asleep to start stroking Julian's thighs and preparing to take his cock in his mouth. "Yeah," he said hoarsely. "Bashir out." End -- "There's nary an animal alive that can outrun a greased Scotsman!" Groundskeeper Willie, "The Simpsons"