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Garak awoke instantly in reaction to the movement in his bed. He did not give any indication that he was conscious, however, but quickly took stock of the situation with his other senses.
Garak was definitely in a bed and he was definitely naked. He could feel the sheets against his skin and the give of the mattress beneath his weight. He was in his own rooms – he recognized the smells, the extra humidity, the higher temperature at which he kept his personal quarters. He could feel the leftover effects of intoxication – the mild pressure at his temples, the sour taste in the back of his throat. For some reason, his knees hurt: the joints ached and the skin felt raw.
More importantly than all this was the warm body pressed against his back. It had previously had its arms wrapped around his chest, with Garak’s hands holding them in place. Now, however, the upper arm was sliding free from his grip. Garak allowed it to do so.
A pause, and then a slow exhalation. The mattress dipped ever so slightly as the body behind him shifted in place. Garak estimated his bedmate was now on hand and knees and trying to figure out how to free the arm currently pinned under Garak’s body.
It was an intensely comical mental image. Garak was just considering rolling onto his back to more completely pin them to the bed, when he remembered who, exactly, it was that he had shared his bed with the night before.
Julian.
After three weeks in a row of lunch canceled, rescheduled, and canceled again, Julian had shown up at Garak’s door with a bottle of kanar and a determined expression.
“I have a lot of opinions about The Fates That Bind,” he’d said, “and I’m not about to let the universe get in the way of you hearing them.”
The kanar had been excellent.
So had the sex.
Dr Bashir was not pulling his arm straight back, but instead pivoting it at an angle until his hand was in the space between Garak’s face and arm. Garak cracked an eyelid and looked down. He watched the fingers dig into the mattress. Julian’s arm dipped down, pressing hard into the mattress, and in a smooth motion, pivoted back up, almost gliding beneath Garak’s body until it was under his neck instead.
It was masterful.
Garak was quite impressed. Here was a man adept the art of post-coital escapes, an expert in skipping out on the uncomfortable conversations that could follow a drunken assignation. If Garak wasn’t a trained operative, it was doubtful it would have woken him at all.
Garak would have felt more impressed if it wasn’t him who was currently being skipped out on.
It didn’t seem quite fair. Yes, Garak had made the first move, but Julian had been equally enthusiastic.
They had polished off the kanar a little too quickly, down to the last glass and still locked in heated debate. For some reason, the alcohol had not muddled the doctor’s thinking – if anything, his arguments were more cogent, harder to counter. Garak had put it down to distraction. The shine in Julian’s eyes, the confidence in his words, the forcefulness of his tone as he shot down Garak’s assertions one after the other…
“I refuse to believe that even you can read and enjoy two hundred thousand words of nothing happening except everyone talking about how miserable they are. In fact,” Julian had said, pointing a finger at Garak. “I don’t think you did read it.”
Garak had gasped in genuine offense.
“I beg your pardon?”
“I think you skimmed it, knew I would hate it, and told me to read it so you could be superior about your cynicism versus my idealism, again.”
Garak had opened his mouth to protest, and then hadn’t. Julian had been grinning at him, a smug sideways curl of his lips, his eyes dancing with mischief.
“Doctor,” Garak had said, “I believe you are baiting me.”
“Maybe I am,” Julian had said, and leaned in. “What are you going to do about it?”
Garak had looked down at the last of the kanar in his glass, had thought to himself…no, he hadn’t thought at all. He’d just tossed back the last of his drink, set the glass down firmly, and kissed Julian full on the mouth.
Now, Julian pinched his fingers together and slowly drew his hand through the gap, barely brushing Garak’s neck ridge in the process. For several seconds, Julian held very still – Garak couldn’t even hear him breathing. One second, two, three, four, then another slow exhale of relief. Julian began to very carefully crawl backwards off the bed.
Garak continued to feign sleep, but he did not relax. He listened as Julian moved around the room on tiptoe, feet almost soundless as he gathered up his clothes and got dressed. The sour taste in Garak’s throat began to turn bitter. He couldn’t decide if he felt more offended or humiliated.
What about the night before was worthy of this jilting? Julian had shown no reluctance, no hesitation – he hadn’t even seemed all that surprised by the kiss. In fact, at the time Garak had been suspicious that the doctor had expected it, had been deliberately winding him up with, for a Cardassian, shameless flirtation.
The moment their lips had met, Julian had slid straight onto Garak’s lap, gripping the back of his neck and digging fingers and thumb just below the upper ridges of his neck. It had been an eruption of passion, desperate mouths and frantic hands, smoldering fires roaring to life. That they had made it to the bed at all was a small miracle—
Ah. Garak remembered that the pain in his knees was a result of their not making it to the bed – at least, not right away. He could not quite recall the state of mind he had been in, that those last ten feet to the bed had been such an insurmountable distance. He also wasn’t sure whose had given out first and brought them crashing to the floor, but he did remember his relief that he would not have to wait another five seconds to get between Julian’s legs.
The doctor’s back was probably quite the sight.
Garak cracked open an eye again and saw the shadowy figure of Julian groping for something under the couch. Neither of them had been particularly concerned about where their clothes ended up, only that they were off.
Was that it? Was Garak was misremembering, and while Julian had been enthusiastic, it was only Garak who been driven near mindless with animal desire? Perhaps the memory of his frantic pawing now made Julian cringe and recoil.
Or maybe it was the other way around. Maybe instead Julian embarrassed that he had not come across as the suave lothario. Garak recalled, once they had gotten to the bed, Julian riding him, fingernails digging into Garak’s chest while he made the most outrageous noises. In that case, Garak would be only too happy to assuage his embarrassment – Garak had enjoyed those noises immensely. Even the memory of them stirred a coil of heat in his stomach.
But apparently, Julian was not going to ask Garak his opinion.
Maybe this was just how Julian operated. Find someone lonely and reasonably good looking, shower them with attention, worm his way into their hearts and then, when he got what he wanted—
No.
That was too far, even if he was sneaking out. That kind of cruelty was utterly beyond Julian, and it was utterly inexcusable of Garak to even consider assigning such a motivation.
Whatever the reason, it made little material difference. Julian had finished dressing and was leaving. Garak wondered if he would at least send a note, later, even if he never had the decency to explain himself to Garak’s face. He listened to the soft whoosh of the door as it slid open and shut—
Thump.
“Ow!” The exclamation was strangled but audible over the disapproving grind of the door’s pneumatics as it was forced back open again. Garak decided that pretending to sleep through that would be an outright stain on his reputation, and opened his eyes.
Julian slipped back into the room, shaking out his hand. Looking up, his eyes met Garak’s. He grinned sheepishly.
“Sorry,” he said. “I have to get ready for my shift, and I didn’t want to wake you up.”
“You almost succeeded,” Garak lied. “Quite impressive.”
“When I was a resident after university, I had two years of early morning shifts. I had to get really good at disentangling myself if I wanted people to stick around ‘til morning,” Julian said with a grin.
Garak felt a pinch of something like guilt. It was possible Julian also used those skills to escape, but mastering the art of the unobtrusive exit solely for the sake of his partners’ sleep was a very…Julian thing to do.
“Anyway, I got all the way out the door before I realized disappearing after our first night together without a note was probably not a good start. I don’t have a key so I couldn’t let the door close.” He flexed his hand with a slight grimace.
Our first night. A good start.
Garak pushed himself up onto an elbow.
“And what would your note have said, doctor?”
“That I had a wonderful time last night, and I would like to do it again.” His tone was vexatiously casual. Garak had spent the last ten minutes slowly spiraling in self-doubt, while Julian was utterly confident that his advances would face no rejection.
It would have been infuriating if it wasn’t so attractive.
Garak smiled. Perhaps Julian was right, and he was a bit too cynical about the way of the world and the people in it.
At the very least, he would admit to being too cynical about Julian.
“The feeling is quite mutual,” Garak said. Julian grinned and crossed the room, bending down to press a kiss to Garak’s lips.
“Glad to hear it.”
Garak let his hand linger on Julian’s arm.
“Perhaps I may request that we confine our exertions to the bed, in future?”
Julian snorted.
“You don’t have to tell me twice. I’m counting myself lucky I didn’t wear a shirt with an open back.”
Garak pulled him down for another kiss. This one lingered, then kept lingering, began to deepen, and Julian jerked away abruptly.
“Right,” he said. “And that’s the other reason I didn’t want to wake you up. I’ve only got thirty minutes to shower and change before I have to be in the infirmary.” He made a show of backing away with his hands raised. “Dinner tomorrow night?” he suggested when he was safely out of arm’s reach.
“I look forward to it.”
“And maybe we leave out the kanar, this time,” Julian said. “Or at least, get a smaller bottle.”
“I will bring a modestly-sized bottle of wine,” Garak promised.
“Tomorrow it is then,” Julian said, making for the door.
“Not even a kiss goodbye, doctor?” Garak asked, affecting a wounded countenance. Julian mock glared at him.
“I’ve already kissed you twice, you devil! If I come over there, you’ll have me out of my trousers and late for work before I know what’s happening.”
Garak put a hand on his chest.
“Doctor, I have no idea what you’re talking about! You’re the one who seduced me, after all.”
“Seduced you! You’re the one— No,” Julian said firmly. “No, I am leaving now, and not another word out of you. Goodbye, I will see you tomorrow night.”
Julian marched determinedly out the door. Garak chuckled and fell back against the pillows. He stretched broadly with a satisfied groan, flexing fingers and toes, before settling back with a sigh. Letting his mind wander agreeably between memories of the night before and fantasies of the night to come, he vowed to let this be a lesson to himself: to not let his pessimism overshadow his expertise in judging a person’s nature.
…and to keep his enthusiasm in check in certain areas of lovemaking. Those did appear to be his undergarments dangling from the top of the bookshelf.