Summary:  Inspired by a montage I made, this is an excuse to dress up Garak a bit, and to do something about Julian's horrid blue pajamas.
 
Disclaimer: Paramount owns the boys. I make no profit. I just get them sticky.

Thanks: Many thanks to my tireless betareader, kira-nerys, for all her help and encouragement.

~ ~ ~

Julian Bashir could feel his professional mask slipping.  Ordinarily, when his patients stopped him anywhere outside the Infirmary to chat, he was very pleased. Speaking  outside a medical setting put them at ease with him. However, the Bajoran woman now blocking his path, and  thanking him profusely just annoyed him.  She held out a squirming toddler, beaming with pride.  "You can see that he is feeling a lot better today, doctor."

"Yes."  He tilted his head, trying to see around the child without being too rude. He had just caught sight of Garak on the other side of the Promenade.

The sight of the shiny black hair, the curve of the broad back were riveting.   He wanted to walk away, to go to the other man right now.  Instead, he forced his eyes back to the woman's face.  Not only was it crucial to be distant in public, but he and Garak had decided to spend a few nights apart.  In the frenzy of the last few weeks, each had been neglecting a backlog of work.

"It was really not anything serious," he repeated.  "I am glad I could help." As he spoke, he turned his head slightly to see the Cardassian out of the corner of his eye.  Garak was staring at him.  Julian glanced away before the Bajoran could follow his eyes, but the vision continued to fill his mind. Damn, Julian recognized that look, and the memory of the last time he had seen it sent a shiver through him.  The expression was not just of  longing, but of focused determination to get exactly what he wanted.  It was going to be one of those nights.

Julian spent the evening plowing through a mountain of reports he owed Starfleet Medical.  When his eyes grew tired, he treated himself to a long and very hot water shower.  His soapy hands lingered for a long time over his tense shoulders. He slowed even more, as he worked downwards across his chest to his belly.  Maybe Garak would be early, and he wouldn't need to go through with this plan.  Maybe he was already here.  Through the hissing water, Julian thought he heard someone walking through the bedroom.  *Yes, he's sitting on the edge of the bed, undressing.  In a minute he'll open the door to the shower stall, and he'll be here.*  He leaned back against the wall, letting the touches stray, until he found himself almost breathless, holding his growing erection in both hands.

"Garak," he groaned aloud, but the door did not open. Sighing, he steadied himself.  He had to stop.  He didn't want to make this too easy.  Where was the fun in that?

He toweled off briskly, avoiding looking at his hazy, dream-like image in the fogged mirror.  He quickly dressed in his old blue pajamas.  He'd taken to wearing the modest, high collared pajamas in his last year at the Academy.  It had been a defensive measure.  He'd suddenly lost some of his awkwardness, and he couldn't keep the women or the men away long enough to get any studying done. The  blue flannel covered him from ankles to neck, and bagged in all the wrong places.  Despite the fact that this costume, and his damp, curling hair made him look very boyish, he had trouble trying to wipe the come-fuck-me look off his face.  He allowed himself one wry smile at his reflection, then headed to bed.

Julian did not look up when the door to his quarters opened without the signal chiming.  He knew no one else would be coming to see him at this hour, and certainly no one else made a habit of overriding his door lock.  His lover's presence was unmistakable anyway.  He'd started to think he could sense Garak through bulkheads. Just now, it was easy. His subtle scent wafted in from the front room from the slight breeze of the door closing.

 Julian struggled to keep his careful pose. He lay on his side, leaning up on one elbow.  He held a PADD in his other hand, distractedly scanning the work he'd just finished.  He didn't turn at the quiet footsteps which stopped at the bedroom doorway.  He let Garak stand there in silence, until the air crackled.  Still he waited.

When he began to feel like he would break into a fit a nervous giggles, Julian finally  turned his head, looking coyly over his shoulder.  "Oh, hello, Garak."  He let his eyes fall back to the PADD, though he wanted to drink in the sight of the Cardassian.

His lover was dressed in a simple, but very striking, black suit.  He wore a well-cut black tunic with simple vertical bands of silver at the shoulders.  The neckline was more deeply cut than his usual style, drawing the eye down his wide neck ridges to the  sensitive curve where the scales shaded to silvery gray.  The fabric shimmered slightly in the low light by the door, and Julian noticed how it clung, defining the powerful muscles of his chest.  Gods, was it silk? His fingers clenched around the the PADD in the effort to keep from  going to him, to bury his hands in the fabric.

 "I've got quite a bit of work left to do tonight, " Julian said airily.  I don't think we had a date. I wasn't expecting you."  He didn't meet the other man's eyes.

The silence stretched out again for an uncomfortably long time.  Julian began to lose his nerve.  He had never teased Garak before.  What if he just got disgusted and went away?  What if he took Julian's play rejection seriously and never came back?  What was he capable of doing if he was truly angry?

Julian began to fidget, tapping the control to bring up the next report.  At last, he felt a flood of relief, as Garak's weight moved onto the bed.  There was rustling and he heard the fastidious tailor removing his shoes.  It was going to be okay.

Garak moved up behind him, stared intently for a moment over his shoulder at the screen, then at Julian's impassive face.  He pressed even closer into Julian's back,  reaching around  to pull  the doctor against the length of his body.  Julian was completely distracted by the hot breath on the side of his face, the solid body which supported him.  The younger man tried not to be too obvious as he pressed himself back against the front of the light silk trousers.  Then he casually stretched, first one way, then another, arching against the tailor's growing erection. Garak's hand tensed, grabbing a handful of his pajama top.  He leaned in, fiercely whispered in Julian's ear.  "I see.  Perhaps you should just carry on with your reading, then."  Garak tightened his grip, beginning a small rip in the fabric just above his left nipple.

Julian struggled to roll forward at the shocking sound of tearing.  Garak's body followed his smoothly. "Hey, I like these pajamas," Julian grumbled.  He kept his face in a prim expression, even as Garak wiggled one finger through the fabric, exploring until he found the tight little nub.

Garak teased with a maddening, light touch, making lazy circles around the peak, then sweeping as far away as the small tear would allow him to reach.  Garak seemed perfectly calm, except the slightest motion of his hips against Julian's back.  His breathing was quick, yet steady.  Julian, however, was about to lose his patience. Garak seemed to be enjoying the controlled pace more than Julian had hoped for.  Maybe this was a bad idea after all.  He looked like he could just lie here all day stroking with this single finger, on this one aching square of his flesh.  Garak would never stop, would never do more until he drove him mad, making him come all over himself with one finger. Julian longed to reach up and tear the fabric down with his own hands, to pull Garak's face down to where fire traced his skin, to feel that warm tongue lapping there.

"Oh..." Julian couldn't help the moan which slipped past his lips, even as he tried to keep up the pretense of reading just a little longer. He felt Garak's hand pause at the sound.   The finger withdrew from inside the hole in the fabric.  Julian nearly cried out again, and he dropped the PADD.  He grabbed the wrist of the escaping hand, but let go as Garak began to tear the fabric again.   The hole grew wide enough so he could work two fingers and his thumb through.  He went after the sensitized nipple again, scratching lightly, then pinching almost to the point of pain.

"Oh!" Julian exclaimed again.  Catching Garak's faint smile, he schooled his face back to a neutral expression."Oh," he said more sternly.  "Garak, I am afraid you have ruined my favorite pajamas."

"My goodness," Garak said as he sent the PADD clattering off the edge of the bed. "How terribly rude of me.  You must let me compensate by making something special for you, something a little more flattering to wear."

Garak moved away from him, letting him roll onto his back. Garak was watching his mouth which had fallen slightly open. His lips felt so strange, full and needing to be touched. Julian stared into the other man's eyes, willing him to please, please just kiss him.

Garak's eyes were sparkling with humor and lust.  A pure jolt of arousal and intense happiness ran through Julian.  He felt his heart constrict in his chest.  He was always completely undone by seeing Garak groaning with pleasure, sweating,  losing all control.  Julian thought nothing would ever top watching the Cardassian in the throes of an orgasm, until the first time he had seen him really smile, and laugh a genuine laugh.  He wondered if any one else in Garak's life had ever seen that.  He smiled up at his lover faintly, then licked the corner of his lips.

The sight of his tongue broke the moment.  Garak's breath caught. Still he seemed unhurried, as he moved to straddle Julian's thighs. "Are you insulting my taste in clothing?" Julian asked haughtily.

Garak didn't answer.  He let one hand resume stroking Julian's chest.  With the other, he reached up, apparently to touch Julian's cheek, but his hand remained hovering just over his skin.  Julian could feel the heat on his flesh, but the hand did not descend.  It moved just above his forehead, then across each high cheekbone, leaving tingling trails of energy.  Finally, his fingertips rested just over his lips.  After an electric moment of tension, Julian bucked, a hiss of frustration curling his lips back.  Without warning, Garak thrust two fingers into his mouth. A rumble of delight started in Julian's throat as he eagerly began to suck the fingers in. He played his tongue over the tips of Garak's fingers, then darted down, driving it into the sensitive flesh where his fingers joined. Gods, there it was....the first quiet moan of pleasure from Garak.  Julian felt a tremendous rush, and for a maddening moment he thought he might come.  Garak was watching him carefully, and he seemed to sense the moment of panic Julian had at ending this too soon.  He withdrew his glistening fingers, and picked up their earlier conversation.

"No, friend, I would never insult your taste in clothing.  However, you seem to have a thread hanging here.  Let me take care of that for you.  It is my profession, you know."  He reached for the fabric over Julian's right nipple, tearing a wide swath halfway down Julian's chest. His wetted fingers played over the taut nub, pinching hard.  Julian wriggled desperately trying to shift Garak's hand, but he could barely move with the stronger man sitting on his legs.

"Oh, dear.  Please forgive me, dear Julian.  I've been so careless.  I seem to have ripped it."  He leaned in close, as if inspecting the damage.  His tongue snaked out, lightning fast, tasting him.  Julian yelped.  "I can see that you are distressed," Garak said in the voice he used to soothe his unhappy customers.  As if to comfort him, he stroked both nipples.

Julian wanted to scream. He was painfully hard.   The soft flannel of the pajama bottom was tented, and starting to grow damp.  He reached to pull Garak fully down onto him.  He wanted to feel the tense muscle in Garak's ass work as they ground their erections together.  He wanted to push this slippery cloth out of his way, to feel the soft scales undulate under his palms when Garak moved.

Garak caught Julian's hands before they could touch him. spreading his arms up and back, pinning them down.

"Elim, let me..."

"Now, you must hold still," Garak said in a stern voice, cutting off his plea.  "You'll only make this tear worse.  We don't want to do more damage.  Let's see, I must have a tool here  to help me remedy this problem."

*Very funny,* thought Julian.  He tried again to reach for Garak again. He was rewarded by a stinging slap across one of his aching nipples, sending another spike of pleasure through him.

Garak knelt up, and rummaged through the pocket of his tunic.  "Oh yes, here it is."  He held a small, silver tailoring instrument up triumphantly for Julian to inspect.  It was a cloth cutter, quite similar to a laser scalpel.  Julian could see as Garak held it close to show him the control that he had it on the lowest setting.  It would slice fabric, but would not harm his skin.

"I'll have this problem taken care of in no time."

"It's very reassuring to be completely in the hands of such a skilled and competent...tailor," Julian said hoarsely.

Garak closed his eyes, letting his head fall back for a long moment.  He could see it was taking everything Garak had not to give up his plan, to just give in now.  His wide, corded neck was tense, the ridges had grown dusky and flared with his desire.  *So wonderfully sensitive to the touch when he was this aroused...I don't think I can stand not to touch him.*

"Please..." Julian began.

Garak's eyes flew up, back in the game once more.  "You are in a hurry this evening.   You have some special plans, no doubt."

"Yes, I have many plans, once you are finished with me."

Garak looked him over, considering, then picked a spot on the high collar and began to cut. He made six careful lines from throat to waist, dragging his finger along each new cut as the fabric separated a few centimeters.  He set the tool aside, then pulled  away the sections of the top like he was peeling a piece of fruit, setting each strip aside.  When he was finished, Garak sighed.

He moved off of Julian's legs, stretching languorously up against his side.  He leaned down to kiss the delicate ear of the human.  "Perfect," he whispered, as he began to nibble the tender lobe, then along the smooth neck, biting more insistently where neck met shoulder.

"Oh, gods, Garak.  Hurry."

"We want to do this right, Julian.  You see what I mess I have made of your shirt by rushing the job.  I am afraid it can't be mended.  I'm usually not this clumsy.  How can I make this up to you?  I think you should have mine.  Yes, that is the only gentlemanly thing to do."

 He sat up to remove the shimmering silk tunic.  Julian pressed his advantage while Garak had his arms raised, and his face was covered.  He threw his arms around the Cardassian's waist, pressing  his cheek into the tight muscles of the taut, gray stomach.  Garak growled ecstatically as  the human licked and sucked down the ultra sensitive ridge which flared downward across his belly.  It led the seeking mouth all the way to the waistband of the trousers.  Julian could visualize the abrupt division as it forked around Garak's cock,  tapered almost to the point of disappearing, then resumed again, along the sides of his strong legs.  Julian stopped when he reached the barrier of cloth, and focused his mouth on a single spot, then trailed his hand over the bulge beneath the silk.

Garak jerked his hips frantically, as he tried to thrust into Julian's hand, but he would not let him find a rhythm.  Julian continued caressing him, but shifted himself so that he could watch his the pleasure on Garak's usually guarded face.  "Thank you."  he said.  *Thank you for showing me this.* he thought.  "Thank you for the shirt, that's most considerate of you."

He took the tunic, and brought it to his face, letting the slickness tease his lips, his cheek, his chin.  "It's just what I wanted," he said speeding the caresses of his other hand slightly.

Garak groaned heavily.  "There seems to be something amiss with your trousers as well," Garak panted, "but I am afraid I am incapable of mending them just at the moment."

"Perhaps, I should just leave them with you."

"Oh, yes...."  Garak stripped the pajama bottom off quickly, flinging it over the side of the bed.  Julian lay totally exposed, letting the Cardassian look at him.

He took the shirt back from Julian, dragging the silk across his throat once again, down his chest.  He followed the trail he made with small licks and nips, making Julian writhe against his tongue.  As Garak moved lower, Julian said, "Wait, please...just a second."  Garak snarled.  The game was over.

Julian sat up, stroking the thick night-black hair for a moment by way of apology, then began rearranging the pillows.  He moved Garak on his side, making him comfortable.  He pushed down the trousers, dropping quick kisses on the ridge on his thigh, his calf, his ankle as he moved, pulling the garment down and free.  He gave one last lascivious smile, then he turned himself to face Garak's feet.

Julian had been nervous the first time they made love.  When he was still new on the station, he had overheard the Bajoran nurses describe Cardassian cocks with loathing, as ugly, dark and clublike.  How far that was from his own experience.  Garak was thick, but no longer than himself.  The skin was covered by the softest scales, so tiny and delicate, each one a slightly different shade of silver, gray, or black. There was a vague pattern of shading twisting around it, becoming darker  toward the tip. It was darker than usual when he was this excited, and now the tip was covered by a shining pearl of moisture.

Oh, he was something to look at like this. *Wanting me, wanting me as much as I want him.* thought Julian, and the evidence of how much he was desired only made Julian that much harder. He traced down the main ridge on Garak's torso once more, letting his fingers linger upon the last spot he had sucked, where he'd left a small, faint mark.  He continued down tracing one fork of the ridge, then the other while Garak shuddered.  Garak's hands stilled where they were, still grasping Julian's slender organ, frozen in anticipation.

As if by an unseen signal, they moved together to take each other inside, lips slowly teasing and enveloping each other, Garak following Julian's lead.  Julian's tongue was delicate upon him first, but as Garak mirrored the touch, Julian made an urgent noise in his throat, and began to pull him more deeply into his mouth.  He felt Garak work all the way down, relaxing his throat easily.  Julian's cry was smothered as Garak thrust forward, unable to keep still any longer.  They rocked steadily, moved as one straining, sinuous body. The two sensations of feeling Garak slide into his mouth, and feeling himself sink down into the swirling heat were too much to bear.  He wanted to stay in the perfect moment as he balanced just on the verge of climax.    A roar began in Garak's throat as he suddenly thrust harder and came. The vibration of Garak's mouth against his sensitive flesh was all it took. Julian felt the hot rush in his mouth, even as he was pushing back, spilling himself into Garak's throat.

Julian lay dazed for a moment, his head resting on the strong thigh.  He began to shake slightly as the last of the tension drained from his muscles.  Garak's hands sought his lover blindly, pulling at his shoulders, even as his eyes remained closed. Julian turned back to the head of the bed, wrapping them in the light blanket.  He moved up to kiss Garak for the first time that evening.  His mouth tasted of the exotic alien spice of the Cardassian seed, and as their tongues met and danced together, the strange essence mixed with his own.

The human paused to study the beautiful, craggy face of his lover.  Garak couldn't tell him about his love yet, but Julian could often see it plainly in his expression.  *Maybe someday, maybe soon,* Julian thought.  The older man's eyes fluttered open, and he smiled a smile that touched his intense eyes.  "Rest now, my dear.  You are going to need it...later."  He pressed the human's head down, till it nested into the hollow of his neck, and Julian began to drift off.

*               *               *               *               *

The doctor yawned widely, as Nurse Jabara handed him a cup of raktajino.  "You look tired again today, doctor.  Aren't you sleeping well?"

Julian grinned.  "I just get too interested in what I am doing to...uh...settle down." 

Jabara rolled her eyes in exasperation.  This young, idealistic doctor seemed to never tire of his research.

At midmorning, just as the last of a small flurry of patients exited the infirmary, the young Bolian who sometimes ran errands for Garak stepped in.  The boy handed him a small, flat package without comment, bobbed his bald, blue head politely and was gone.

Julian took the package back to his desk, and stared thoughtfully at it for a long time.  Should he open it now?  He glanced at the chrono.  He had five hours left on his shift.  His curiosity wouldn't hold out that long.  He looked guiltily around to make sure he was not being watched, then he pulled away the wrappings.  Inside was a heavy blue box.  He lifted the lid a fraction of an inch, trying to peer in.  He lifted it off completely in surprise.  Inside was a very small....good heavens....it was a thong.  Not of silk, or leather or some other alluring material.  It was blue flannel, carefully sewn together from the strips of his ruined pajamas.  The small blue card inside simply read, "Something more flattering for tonight."

END

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