Title: Black Bottle: Chapter 3: The Debt Part 2
Author: Hermit
Fandom: Star Trek:DS9
Pairing: Garak/Bashir
Rating: PG-13 to be safe
Yadda: Not my characters, made up, just for fun etc.
III The Debt Part 2
Garak leans against the cold railing of the lift, his mind quiet for the first time in recent memory. He isn't sure what has caused this reletive tranquility after the frothing anxiety of the past few days, but he'll take it, he'll enjoy it while it's here. Perhaps it's the normalcy. This feels like a very normal day. He woke, showered, changed, opened his shop, made a delivery, and soon he'll be going to lunch with Julian. Even that thought doesn't make his heart leap like he expects. It all feels very familiar and easy. They haven't gone to lunch together in ages, but the experience of that weekly, sometimes daily event over so many years, well, it's like sewing. He could stop for twenty years or so he imagines and then leap right into it again with no problem, with joy even. A little normalcy would be nice right now.
The lift slows, then stops, then opens. Garak stands up straight. Julian meets Garak's eyes and smiles a secret wry smile before stepping inside. He doesn't even wait for the door to close completely. Garak gets half a syllable out of his mouth before Julian closes the distance, all the distance between them, and brings thier lips together. Garak lets his hands fall gently to Julian's hips and greedily tastes the warm sweetness of Julian's mouth and the juicy flesh of his tongue.
It's gone in just over a second, time enough for three quick mouthfuls of Julian. Just his unexpected presence there was enough to shatter Garak's calm, but the hot wet assault and the smell of him so near, so suddenly, has made him forget everything else but the mad strangling want in his gut. His planned destination from the lift, his objectives for the day, this "normality" of a moment ago. All gone.
As Julian turns away from Garak to face the door, a fluid motion from his step in, to the theft of Garak's mouth, to where he stands now, two nonchalant meters away from Garak, the lift door opens again on the next floor down and a Starfleet crewman enters. The young engineer nods at Julian who nods back, and the lift is on its way.
He can hear his own river-rapids pulse in his ears and nothing more. Garak looks at the floor and studies, not for the first time, the box pattern minted into the metal. He counts thirty-seven three centimeter squares surrounding his feet before the lift stops again and the crewman exits.
He looks over at Julian who smiles a little and bites the corner of his lip.
Garak is reclaiming a little of that calm. "We must stop meeting like this, Doctor. People will talk," he says finally.
Julian laughs out loud though he knows it wasn't that funny. He's nearly giddy with it though. The need to just grab him is driving him mad, and the walls of time and duty between them are looking perilously thin from his point of view, even as Garak stands there looking cool as a Cardassian, steel grey eyes, broad chest softened and disguised under muted green and blue. "Do you...do you want to go to lunch now? Are you free?"
Garak dissects the mirth around Julian's eyes for a second or two. "I think that's a wonderful idea."
Julian looks at the lift floor this time. "My quarters? Since we're here?" Indeed the lift slows and stops again on Julian's floor. Garak makes no mention of the fact that the promenade is equally close on this level. Julian's smile and slight blush says it.
~*~
Garak's hand is a leaden weight on his hip and it makes him shudder internally when his thumb squeezes in just a little. The hand moves back and wraps tighter around his lower back , so low he can feel his tough fingertips, hot as they dig into the bone of his pelvis through the whisper thin material of the trousers Garak made for him. His mouth is hanging open a little he realizes, but he has no power to close it as long as Garak is going to steal his breath as he nips at Julian's chin.
Julian doesn't know what to do with his own hands. He rakes them down Garak's back and chest but with so much material in the way it is not very satisfying. He wants to touch him, wants to feel and discover the alien skin beneath. Blind, Julian finds the bottom hem of Garak's shirt and begins worming his fingers under one layer, then another. Garak's hands come from off of his body and grasp and hold Julian's away as he kisses and licks and devours.
Julian kisspushes him away, two, three times, then pulls back to look at him, wild-eyed and raw-lipped. "Did you want lunch?" he asks through a pant.
Garak doesn't answer him again. He doesn't know what that means when he becomes unresponsive, but he trusts for now. Elim backs him up with a step forward and the balance of his body against Julian's. Dancing again, but this time through the doorway to Julian's bedroom, another kiss connecting them as they go. Julian grins brighter as they enter the dark, quiet room. He doesn't bother to keep his arousal to himself now, but lets it press hard into Elim's hip. Elim hums low in his throat and just looks back at Julian, shark-eyed and intent. Julian swallows hard and then pulls his uniform shirt up over his head followed by his undershirt.
Garak's breath stops in his throat as he looks on all that tawny flesh. He thinks in that moment that he may have never felt a riptide craving for anything quite as he does for the warm and inviting body before him. Julian keeps kissing him, placing his hands at Garak's belt trying to get at more skin. Garak takes Julian's clever hands in his again because he just doesn't know what else to do to curb this.
Hands are safe. Hands are made for touching. Hair is soft and inconsequential. Lips shield teeth, but are matched when you kiss. The weapons there cancel each other. But you don't bring lips to hands, or anywhere else where they might be tempted to bite soft skin and durable muscle. Likewise hands to lips or any other delicious parts to touch is out of the question. They may taste the silk of skin, the satin of sweat, and pilled roughness of hair or scale, but who will stop them when they want to pinch and dig and bleed?
"Elim," Julian whispers. "Please." A request for mercy or an order, he isn't sure. It comes too softly to his ears, needy, aching down feathers.
He lets go of Julian's hands then and slips the button on Julian's trousers, lets them fall. He barely glances down then as he pinches then curls the fabric of Julian's shorts around his fingertips and pulls them over his cock to let them drop as well.
Julian is standing naked and painfully aroused in a room with a fully clothed and irritatingly stoic Cardassian. All Garak has to do is lean forward a little and Julian's calves meet the edge of his bed and he is forced to sit. Julian watches with something akin to fear tumbling through him as Elim removes his jacket, and nothing more. He kneels silently and pulls off Julian's shoes and pushes his clothes to the side. He looks up at Julian under lowered ridges, and all Julian wants is to touch him, but twice now he's been refused and he isn't sure if he should try again or not. He looks dazedly back at him, searching his face. Garak smiles just a little, leans up to kiss him once and then braces his fists on the bed on either side of Julian's hips before dipping down between his knees. Julian gasps in the way you do when you see a bottle fall from a shelf, before it actually hits the floor and shatters with musical bedlam.
Julian's concerns are gone in a flash as the sun below the sea following that harrowing second of hesitance. His fingers knot into Garak's hair and in response he hums around Julian's cock. He's slow and langourous about it at first. Seems to slip down by only the lazy force of gravity, then crawl up to the top again and start over. Just a few times, and then he's licking at him, at the underside from the base, tantalizing and real, then up to the head, and Julian feels he might crawl out of his skin. He makes some inarticulate noise when he reaches that place again and finds he can't hold himself upright anymore, and leans back on one arm. But now he can see what is happening and he huffs several times and squeezes his eyes shut against it. Too much. Garak's lips sliding down under gently closed eyes. His cock disappearing into Garak's mouth, it's unreal. He keeps his eyes shut a few more seconds but it's no good, he's seen it and that image is going to stay burned there for some time. He moans out loud as Garak sucks hard on the head and then dives back down on him. Julian opens his eyes and finds himself chuckling at his own lack of control. "Oh my god," he mumbles and wants to kiss him again. But Garak starts pumping up and down on him faster, his lips tight around him, his tongue flat and slippery under his cock, teasing with the tip and running around the head in circles every time he comes up for air. Garak breathes steadily, gulping through his nose and Julian can feel the cool rush of air inside his mouth as it blows across the head of his cock. That in itself is going to kill Julian. The hot and cold trading places over and over. He feels it drawing near, he wants to push it away, petulant. Not yet. Too soon, way too soon. But it's inevitable and quickly squeezing his groin inward, blood stiffening his cock rock hard and purple against Elim's face until Julian's abdomen is spasming. Oaths spew from his mouth punctuated by other wordless noises and calls as he squeezes his legs around Elim's head. He can feel the Cardassian's silky hair on his thighs. Julian gasps for breath and goes limp, feeling bodily numb except the tingling ecstasy like rivulets of gold all over him and Elim's rapid breath on the base of his cock. Garak comes up slowly, partially, and Julian shivers at the feeling of him swallowing with his mouth still full. He pauses then, still except for a tremor Julian can feel in Garak's lips. Then his head dips down on him again and Julian cries out and grabs Elim's head with both hands. He comes back up, and that tongue laps at him, and he's so oversensitive it's like sweet burning knives, so good but so much. Garak tongues and sucks and dives at him over and over and each time, Julian thinks it will be the last time he torments him, but it is not. He begins to laugh and can not help the reflexes of his body that pull him away from the onslaught, that demonic mouth. He shivers away from Elim, calling his name and laughing anxiously still until finally Garak is out of range.
Garak is panting but still kneeling as he was. Julian catches his breath for a moment and then crawls to him, limp and wasted, but more appreciative than he thinks he could possibly express in words. He takes Elim's face in his hands and begins kissing him over and over, tasting himself on his tongue and feeling the slip of swollen lips between his. He nips at them gently until Garak's hand comes up to the side of his face, a thumb running over his ear and hair. He pulls back to look at him again, to search him for a desire. He wants to know what Elim wants from him, wants to hear him say it, but he'll take a subliminal message if he can't get conversation.
"I'm afraid I must be going, my dear," Elim mutters then clears his throat.
Julian wants to say something in response to that, but he can't come up with a thing. Nor does Elim give him a chance to. He looks his face over again, as if memorizing it, which strikes alarm in Julian like breaking glass to his ears. Then he kisses him again, quick and soft, and then he's gone.
~*~
Garak gets the door to his quarters closed behind him, locks it with a word and begins gasping fishlike as he had wanted to ages ago in the corridor. He's leaned against the corner where the doorway meets the wall and he undoes his trousers. The darkness in the room seems to hide him from himself. Hide his face from the cold eyes of his rooms. He winces, holds his breath and clenches his teeth as his organ emerges, painful and hard, from his body. He lets the breath go when it's out and tingling in the air. Dripping wet onto the floor and his pants, he takes it in hand and strokes with relief up and down the hard shaft, nudging the head through his fingers with the movment of his hips. His eyes slip shut, and behind them he can see Julian, and he remembers with crystal clarity the dark weight of his cock in his mouth. Not like a Cardassian's. Thicker and more rugged. Perfectly fleshed and silky. His cock jumps in his hand, and as if it directed his thoughts with a mind of its own, Garak sees Julian in front of him again, his bare back to him, fistful of his flesh in Garak's left hand. He's not screaming anymore, just placid and accepting, sweat on his brow, dry tear track on his cheek. His skin is red and the first dappling of purple is rising in arcs across his back. Garak fucks his hand but his face is crumpling in shame, despair. He can't resist. He's violating Julian in his mind and it feels so good, just imagining his fist is Julian, but it can't be enough. He wants it to be, but it isn't and his hand is clutching something. Now that he knows what it's like to touch him, to taste him, the fantasy is too real. It's too close to the surface and he can not sink it. He hits Julian with the rod in his other hand, the real hand coming down to smack the wall behind him, bruising his knuckles. Julian cries out as he did when Garak wouldn't let him go. Just moments ago this happened. Garak's eyes fly open and he throws his arms away from himself with a growled Cardassian slur.
He's shaking and his hard, weeping cock points angrily into the center of the room. The room doesn't seem to notice, but Garak collapses on himself anyway, hiding. He puts his face, distorted and mangled into his wet hands and slides down the wall.
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