Title:  Come Again, Cardassian? 
Author:  Cameron Burnell (deep_space_cam@yahoo.com) 
Series:  DS9/VOY - Garak/Paris...someone else we know and love 
Rating:  NC-17, graphic m/m (and m/m/m!) sex, domme/sub 
  
Hi!  This story belongs to me, but I've nicely borrowed from 
Paramount's lovely selection of wicked and wonderful boy 
toys.  They never do anything this interesting, but I bet they 
think about it!  Anyway, I don't want to hear from any of 
them about what I do their pitifully underused characters in 
this story. 
  
  
Okay, this one goes out to my favorite Garak-mistress, Sophie Massé, 
who begged me for something new and different.  Is this okay, Sophie 
dear?  ;)  And I'm sorry about the recycled title, but at least this 
time it's in the story! :-)) 
  
********************* 
  
Come Again, Cardassian? 
by Cameron Burnell 
  
  
"I beg your pardon?" 
  
"I said," Tom Paris repeated between grit,  
pearly-white teeth, "that I need you to fix my 
fucking uniform." 
  
He was peeved.  Hell, he was pissed!  Here  
he was, trying to spend his last few hours of 
leave before shipping out with Captain Kate  
and her crew and he'd torn his best uniform 
pants in the second worst possible place.  He  
needed to get them fixed.  Unfortunately, the 
only place on Deep Space Nine was a Cardassian  
run tailor's shop.  The Cardassian in question  
was staring at him with surprisingly blue eyes. 
  
More gray than blue, but they were still surpris- 
ingly gentle.  He'd seen a few Cardassians during  
his time in Chakotay's rebel Maquis band and this  
one didn't look anything like those.  This one seemed  
sympathetic and even friendly. 
  
"Of course, sir, if you'd step right back here into my  
fitting room."  He waved a hand to a curtained area  
and Tom edged there, trying to keep his hind-end from  
showing through the big hole in the back.  He finally got  
behind the heavy curtains and breathed a sigh of relief. 
  
"All right, sir, if you'd be so kind as to give me your  
trousers....?" 
  
Tom looked at the Cardassian for a moment, then  
pointedly took his palm phaser from it's place in his  
secret hip pocket and held it with his teeth as he  
removed his trousers.  He gave them to the tailor and  
took his phaser back in hand. 
  
For some reason, the Cardassian seemed a bit stunned,  
staring at him.  If he was a tailor, wouldn't he have seen  
people dress and undress, though? 
  
"What's the matter?" 
  
The tailor blinked.  "Perhaps I could supply you  
with a pair of underpants, sir?" 
  
"What?  Oh...oh, no.  I like not wearing any.  Makes  
me feel a bit reckless." Tom grinned. 
  
The Cardassian nodded at this and then began to  
examine the pants.  He spoke under his breath, but  
quite clearly, in a rather submissive manner.  "I can  
certainly understand your position, but it *does* make  
such incidents as a ripped pair of pants rather more 
'revealing', shall we say, than would normally occur." 
  
Tom considered this, then grunted. "Yeah, but I don't  
have anything I'm ashamed of." 
  
The tailor's looked up at this and those gray-blue  
eyes gleamed quite wickedly.  "Yes, I noticed." 
  
That look made Tom feel warm and strange, so he  
just pointed at his pants by waving his phaser and  
said, "How long will this take?  I've only got a few  
hours before I need to report in, and I was still hoping  
to have a drink, maybe enjoy a nice holosuite program 
before shipping out." 
  
The tailor considered this and dismissed the torn fabric  
as if it wasn't even ripped.  "Not long.  And I insist that  
you let me buy you a drink before you leave." 
  
"Look..." Tom sighed.  "I don't even know your name." 
  
The tailor gave him a half-bow from his position and told  
him. "My friends call me Garak." 
  
"Garak." 
  
"At your...*service*."  Garak's lips curled into a  
very sensuous smile. 
  
Tom frowned.  Was this Cardassian coming on to  
him?  To *him*?  Not that he was some uptight  
hetero asshole, but a *Cardassian*?  He blinked  
and noticed that this Cardassian had a huge bulge  
in the front of his trousers.  Clearly he found him  
attractive.  He considered this. 
  
It had been a long time.  Well, not *that* long, but  
Tom didn't count the barter-fucks he'd done in that  
New Zealand prison as sex.  It had been a long time  
since he'd chosen and a long time since he'd been given  
the choice.  He'd been thinking of a holosuite and some 
exotic program, but that would cost him credits he  
couldn't really afford and what could be more exotic  
than fucking a Cardassian?  He'd been fucked over by  
them in the past.  This could be one way of getting his  
own back.  Just the thought was incredibly exciting, 
making his dick start to tingle. 
  
"At my...*service*?"  Asked. 
  
"Completely."  Answered. 
  
Tom frowned, looking around the room.  "I...This  
isn't..." 
  
Garak seemed to come alive.  He stacked one  
materials box on top of another, making a sturdy  
waist-high surface, then, without preamble,  
undid his pants and revealed his gray leathery  
skin and large, thick club of an erection.  Tom  
just stared.  This guy was huge! 
  
Garak bent over the boxes, displaying his leathery  
ass and the small opening that made Tom swallow.   
"I don't have any lube or anything," he murmured. 
  
Garak shuddered.  "You'll find it won't be necessary... 
but even if that weren't true, I'd want you to take me  
just this way.  Now stop talking and take me, human!" 
 
Paris swallowed again, his dick suddenly so hard  
he could pound nails with it.  The tailor's voice had  
gotten demanding.  How dare he?  He suddenly took  
the phaser and pressed himself against Garak's back,  
putting the phaser against his ear. 
  
"Come again, Cardassian?" 
 
"Oh..." Garak moaned, clearly turned on by being  
dominated.  "I...said, please sir...please." 
  
"Please what?" 
  
"Please fuck me." 
  
"That's better," Tom drawled, now reaching down  
with his free hand to hold his cock and start to rub  
the head against Garak's puckered gray hole.  The  
tailor moaned and pushed back.  "Did I say you could  
move, mother fucker?" 
  
Garak shook his head. "No.  I...I beg forgiveness, sir.   
Please let me show you how sorry I am."  He sounded  
breathless. 
  
Tom felt himself growing painfully hard and shook  
his head.  His voice was thick and tight.  "No deal!   
Now grab that box and take it.  I'm going to fuck you  
raw." 
  
"Oh, oh, yes, sir!  Don't hurt me, sir!" 
  
"Shut up!"   
  
He slapped Garak on one side, phaser still in  
hand.  Then as the Cardassian was shaking 
his head, ears ringing, Tom plunged his leaking  
cock hard up his ass.  "OH!" 
  
"Shut up, I said!  Did I say you could talk,  you  
piece of slimy shit?" 
  
"No, sir..." Garak sobbed.  "I'm so sorry..." 
  
"Damn straight, now shut the fuck up!" 
  
Then there was nothing, but the sounds of grunting  
and the slight thump of Tom's knees against the box.   
He clenched the phaser against Garak's now-bleeding  
ear and recklessly shoved his dick harder and harder,  
deeper and deeper up his ass.  He'd been right, he noted 
abstractly.  The Cardassians passage was slick, as if  
he'd been prepared in advance. 
  
Could it be?  No, not for him, Tom thought as  
he continued to thrust in and out of Garak's tight  
ass.  He suddenly growled and moved to shove  
the phaser tight against the bruising ear.  "Who  
were you waiting for, Garak?" 
  
"What?" the tailor sounded dazed by the question.   
His ear was throbbing, his ass was burning with  
the thick invader that kept pressing in and out and  
he'd bitten his cheek inside when Tom had slapped  
him with the phaser.  He found it hard to think.  Plus,  
his own untouched cock was leaking oily sperm all  
over the box, a hard, aching club of flesh that longed  
for release. 
 
He was slapped for his question.  "Your ass was  
ready to be fucked, you lying sack of shit...who was  
going to fuck you?  Who?" 
 
"That would be me." 
  
Tom pulled out so quickly that Garak reeled.  A young,  
dark-skinned, black-haired man stood at the curtained  
opening.  He stepped in and closed the curtain behind him. 
  
"What's going on here?"  His voice held a touch of some  
accent and he glared angrily at Garak and his voice got  
quite bitchy.  "For heavens sake, Garak, couldn't you wait?  
Aren't I enough anymore?" 
  
Garak stood up stiffly, a bit of blood now  
trickling from his ear and faced their intruder.   
"Julian...forgive me.  I--" 
  
"You were hoping I'd walk in, hell -- you  
*knew* I would!  Now...who the hell is this?" 
  
Tom drew in a breath, realizing what was going  
on now, but not particularly pleased.  It seemed  
*he* was the one who'd gotten fucked...and royally!   
Chances were he'd wind up without anything he  
intended for that night.  Not an exotic holosuite  
encounter.  Not even a pleasant orgasm since he'd  
have to jack-off to be able to get his pants back on 
and...damn!  His pants! 
  
"I'm Tom Paris, whoever you are, and you  
interrupted my session with Garak here.  He 
invited me, I didn't force him, and I'd thank  
you to leave." 
  
Julian laughed, a short humorless chuckle and  
his dark eyes got a dangerous look. "Leave?   
Hardly.  I plan on joining you." 
  
"Joining?  But Julian--" 
  
"Shut up, Garak!  If this is what you want now,  
if this sort of abuse is what appeals to you then  
shut the fuck up and Tom and I will give it to  
you."  As he spoke, Julian was removing his  
clothing. 
  
Paris and Garak both noticed how swollen Julian's  
cock was.  He wasn't large, but he was uncut and  
his cock was shiny-wet with pre-cum.  Once nude,  
he went to the other side of the boxes and, without  
looking at Garak, nodded at Tom.  "Go on, fuck the  
shit out of him.  He likes it, don't you, Garak?" 
  
Garak didn't even argue, merely bent back over the  
boxes and presented his ass once more to Paris.  He  
put his head down, but Julian grabbed him by the hair  
and lifted his head up, pressing his leaking cock against  
his cheek and nose. 
  
"I didn't say you could just lay there and enjoy being  
fucked.  If this is what you want, this is what you get.   
Now...suck me, Garak, suck me like you're life depends  
on it, because--" 
  
"Because it does, you piece of shit," Tom growled,  
sinking in deep again and taking up the slack for the  
slim young Julian as he shoved the phaser back against  
Garak's ear. 
  
The only sound that escaped from Garak's lips was a  
little moan of pleasure as he wrapped his lips around  
the wet, straining dick before him and began to suck it  
like he hadn't eaten for days and the only food around  
was the come from Julian's balls.  He could feel the 
deep and wonderful plowing Tom was giving him and  
swooned.  He sucked on Julian even harder now, his  
long tongue slipping past his lips to lave the musky balls  
that held his late-night treat. 
  
Julian was surprised to find himself near bursting already.   
The sight of Garak, *his* Garak, being royally reamed out  
by the slim-hipped, blue-eyed Adonis had made his cock 
stiffen in his trousers.  He'd stood there for a while, just  
watching and listening until he'd seen his chance to join in.  He 
was also a tiny bit jealous, but he'd already forgiven Garak.  One 
of Garak's tongue-baths was more than enough to make him forgive him 
anything. 
  
"Let me go, damn you!"  He grabbed Garak's head and  
withdrew, shooting his thick pearls of cream all over his  
lover's face.  He could barely catch his breath, only barely  
hearing Garak moaning with equal parts pleasure and disap- 
pointment.  But the sudden squeal he made caused Julian to  
open his eyes. 
  
Garak couldn't help the sound as Tom pulled out of him  
and grabbed him by the shoulders, pushing him down to  
his knees.  He looked up at Tom with his come-covered  
face and Paris just grinned. 
 
"Since you like sucking, then suck me." 
 
Those gray-blue eyes looked up at him, then at his thick,  
red rod.  It was shiny with the moisture from inside him.   
It had just been inside his rectum...this thought made him 
swoon, but Paris didn't allow his withdrawal.  "I said,  
suck me, dammit!" 
 
He grabbed him by the hair and his sticky face was pressed  
against that red angry monster.  Garak obediently opened his  
mouth.  "That's more like it.  Now suck it good until I come." 
  
With a quiet moan of ecstasy, Garak latched onto Tom's  
swollen dick.  That was all it took.  Paris had been holding  
back for a while now and just the sight of the pliant 
Cardassian servicing him shot him over the edge.  His  
sperm began pumping forcefully down Garak's throat and  
Garak vacuumed every last drop out.  It was bliss for them  
both, made heaven as suddenly Garak pressed his lower  
belly and his overexcited cock began to shoot his thick,  
heavy sperm all over Tom's lower legs. 
 
Several moments of breathlessness and then gasping  
sounds.  Julian spoke first.  "Well, was that what you  
wanted, Garak?" 
  
To Tom's surprise, the young man's voice sounded dull,  
flat with the repression of his feelings.  When he opened  
his eyes, Julian tossed him a piece of damp fabric and  
Tom took it.  As he wiped his legs, he couldn't help but  
notice the tears that came to Garak's eyes.  The Cardassian  
made his way on his knees to the Human. 
  
"Oh, Julian...I don't know what I'm looking for when I have  
you..." 
  
He wrapped his arms around Bashir's legs and buried his  
face against his now-covered thighs.  Julian looked up at  
Tom.  His eyes held an inquiry.  Paris found his voice again. 
  
"I came in here because my pants were ripped.  He didn't  
fix them yet." 
  
Bashir looked disgusted, but not at Tom.  He pointed. "In  
that drawer.  You'll find folded pairs of Starfleet-issue  
trousers." 
  
Tom looked.  Sure enough, the drawer held a stack of  
neatly folded brand-new trousers.  He frowned at Bashir. 
  
"You're about my size, maybe a bit larger around the  
waist." Julian sighed, then added off-handedly, "But you're  
pale and you have blue eyes."  He looked down at the  
weeping Garak and sighed again.  "He's got a sort of...fetish  
for pale-skinned men with blue eyes, you see.  I know he  
loves me, but..." 
  
"You could have cosmetic surgery." Tom suggested  
as he shrugged the pants on. 
  
Julian's voice was quiet and sorrowful.  "Then it  
wouldn't be me, would it?  Never mind.  You go  
on.  This was...nice." 
  
Nice.  That's not how Tom would think of it.  It had  
been intense and thrilling.  He no longer felt antipathy  
toward Cardassians.  Some of the forced encounters  
he'd endured in prison were fading thanks to this brief,  
but satisfying fantasy fulfilled.  But while he'd been 
slaying his demons, someone else was just facing  
their own.  He looked at Julian once more before he  
stepped out. 
  
"Thanks, Julian.  Take care of yourself."  He tilted  
his head.  "Take care of him." 
 
Julian smiled. "I will.  Go on, Tom.  You take care  
of yourself, too." 
  
Paris tucked his phaser into his waistband and left. 
  
"Oh, Garak," Julian sighed, then got to his knees to  
embrace his long-time lover.  "Whatever will I do  
with you?" 
  
"You're far too good for me, dear Julian.  I'm a pathetic  
old man, enslaved to my passions, out of control, unable  
to appreciate what I've got.  You're far too good for me." 
 
Julian's fingers were gentle as he stroked the tears  
from Garak's face, before dipping his head to kiss  
him tenderly.  "You're right, Garak.  You are out of  
control." 
  
Their kiss went on for a long time and soon both 
men were breathing fast again, before they pulled  
apart.  Blue-gray eyes met dark brown ones. 
  
"And I think I wouldn't want you any other way." 
  
THE END