Chapter Text
the sun is up – i’m so happy i could scream!
and there’s nowhere else in the world i’d rather be than here with you –
it’s perfect
it’s all i ever wanted
oh, i almost can’t believe that it’s for real (so pinch me quick!)
* * *
Light filtered through his closed eyelids, warm and insistent; for a moment he frowned, reluctant, not quite ready to wake up.
And then he remembered, ah, and his mouth stretched into a giddy smile, quite beyond his control, and his hands clenched into fists—
Good morning, Elim. Oh, and it is a good morning, isn’t it…!
Eyes still closed, he listened, and yes, there it was: soft breathing next to him, long and slow and regular, and this was quite possibly the very best way to wake up that had ever been devised. I could shout. I truly could.
Dare he look? No, not yet; first, it rather seemed appropriate to properly record the moment, to catalogue the sensations for later ease of retrieval. He’d want to relive this, someday.
First, hearing. Already done, technically – but there was nothing wrong with doing it again, with drifting lightly, eyes closed; with savouring the sound of soft susurrations, and remembering sighs and cries and his own name on urgent lips. Goodness, no, there was nothing wrong with that at all, was there…
Next, scent. The sheets, wrapped loosely over him – and all draped on top of him, in fact, none left for the other side of the bed – smelled rather strongly of… Well, not to put too fine a point upon it, they smelled like Human sweat and pheromones, and so did the air; the tiny bedroom was pungent with it. It was rather funny how important context could be. In any other situation, that scent would make him curl his lip. But now, I do believe I could drink it…
Mmm, and that was taste, wasn’t it; well, perhaps he couldn’t indulge quite the way he might like – although he remembered, ah, he did – but there were always options, and he was a resourceful man. Smiling to himself, he opened his mouth and sipped the air, lifting his tongue, letting the breath caress his so’c; and here was more Human, delicious and slightly salty, essence floating through the room, mmm indeed... Marvellous, really; it filled his mouth, and he gulped air again, greedy for something quite intangible. I always was. But now look, look—
No, not yet – but the intangible had now become rather delightfully tangible, and so he gently slid a hand over, out from under the sheets; the room was still cool from the night’s chill, but here next to him was a warm body, so warm, almost radiant with heat. He didn’t touch, not quite, but then he didn’t have to; the warmth spilling over from the man beside him was so wildly abundant that he could sense where his skin ended and the Human’s began without coming much closer than, oh, a few iceksamlan away… Wasteful, really. Metabolic extravagance. Humans were so excessive. How fast must their metabolisms run, to constantly burn so hot? No wonder he eats so quickly. I’m surprised they all don’t. And this particular Human was so slender, truly; perhaps he ran hotter than most? There were so many places that bone pressed to the surface, so many little spots of stretched skin – his framework was so delicate, so beautifully constructed…
And that was a clear invitation to sight, yes? Please?
Very well, he would permit it. He cracked one eye open, just a little, just to see if he was being watched – and no, those lovely eyes were still closed, heavy lids in clear evidence, unnecessarily long lashes almost brushing against soft cheeks. Extravagance and excess, everything about the man was extravagance, beauty beyond belief, every detail just as he’d remembered, oh, it was almost too good to be true—
Elim Garak, you are being rather excessive yourself.
He was, wasn’t he, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to care particularly. Why not throw adjectives to the wind? Why not spin webs of words in which he could hope to capture some of the sweetness of the man next to him, so unexpected and so there, so impossibly true?
He couldn’t stop smiling, and he laughed at himself, shaking silently in the warm bed. Julian Bashir, what have you done to me?
Oh, he wanted so very much to reach out a hand, to trace the shape of his face, that naked chin, those unadorned ears, those little strips of hair over his eyes, that mouth – ah, that mouth – and goodness, that nose, really… That on its own had more or less sealed his fate, once upon a time. Julian might be a bit odd-looking in a Cardassian context, but Garak didn’t know a gul who wouldn’t drop to glinn in a heartbeat for a chance at a nose like that. All it needed was a slight ridging down the middle, and Julian would own a nose that would be the envy of beauty-conscious Cardassians everywhere.
I am being embarrassingly foolish…!
Ah, well; what else did he have to do? Nothing, today. When he’d heard Julian was coming, he’d leveraged whatever slight accumulation of vesala he’d built up with his work-mates to negotiate a few days off in succession – unheard of, these days, but he’d managed it. Perhaps it was the slight air of desperation that sealed the deal. It would cost him down the line, he knew that, and yet it was worth it: to have nowhere to go, nothing to do but gaze foolishly at the man next to him, sleeping comfortably, completely unaware of the besotted idiot waiting patiently for him to awaken…
Quite patiently.
Because he was very, very good at patient.
But it would be rather nice if Julian woke up now, wouldn’t it? There was a perfectly good morning going to waste. Why, there could be lovemaking to start the day – and then a shower together, why not, and then lovemaking, and then food, and then perhaps relaxation on the balcony, looking out over the city, and then – because the day would be getting really rather hot by that point – a retreat to the cool interior of the apartment, and clearly that would mean more lovemaking—
Dear me, Elim. Goodness, he hadn’t felt this top-spun in years.
Years? You mean decades.
Well, perhaps he was overdue. Perhaps some kind of hormone had built up, quietly, and was now boiling over. That would explain rather a lot, wouldn’t it? Certainly it wasn’t his usual nature to want so desperately to laugh, to bubble with happy noises, to hiss gleefully, to clutch, to nip, to bite, oh, why wouldn’t the silly Human wake up?
Perhaps he only needed a little coaxing. I can coax…
There was rather a large expanse of soft, desert-sand skin on display before him. Julian was asleep on his back, face turned up, one arm crossed carelessly across his abdomen, the other – Garak lifted his head, peering – yes, the other flung over the edge of the bed, dangling. His long legs were pulled up, knees angled towards Garak, feet just barely visible, and he wore absolutely nothing at all. Delightful…
Julian’s nakedness was the strangest combination of alluring and awkward; really, the way Human physiology had arranged for reproduction was so risky. How the males managed to walk around with all that business constantly exposed was a wonder to him. Fitting pants for Humans had always made him want to chuckle… but he was getting off-topic, wasn’t he, he needed to figure this out…
A thought: gently, oh so gently, he blew a delicate breath at Julian, directing it at his arm, his neck, his chest. An unexpected breeze could mean an unwanted entry, an opened window, someone where someone shouldn’t be; such a breeze would wake Garak in a matter of moments.
Apparently not so Julian Bashir.
Hmm. He tried again, this time puffing air at Julian’s ear, not hard, just enough that he’d feel it – as, apparently, he did; Julian twitched slightly, and frowned, and turned his face away, and then let out a rather irritating little snore.
He pursed his lips.
Very well, then; there were always other options. He lifted a hand, let it hover a hair’s-breadth away from Julian’s skin; he traced along the wave of heat that emanated from him, barely brushing the myriad tiny hairs that lay so contentedly along his arm, the back of his hand…
Nothing. Well, pleasant little tingles at the tickling of his palm, and that wasn’t really nothing. But nothing productive.
Hmm. There were times when unfortunate actions had to be taken for the greater good. I may have to be… obvious.
He remembered sliding his hands over Julian, only a few hours before; he remembered fascination with the here-and-there scattering of hair over his body, and how he’d nosed curiously into a decorated area, wanting to smell and taste – and how Julian had jumped and yanked away, and been rather loud about it. He’d reassured Garak that he wasn’t hurt, not at all, but: Humans are sensitive there, Elim, be careful!
Well, he’d made it up to Julian, hadn’t he…
So perhaps I can make this up too. Marvellous thought; honestly, this was win-win.
He nodded to himself, and narrowed his eyes, planning his attack. First, up on to his elbow, so that he could access his target; next, he raised his free hand, wriggling its fingers, can I reach it? Yes…
Well, then, mission was go; he smiled and let his hand swoop down, arrowing towards Julian’s invitingly open underarm—
And that loosely-flung arm flashed into motion; a long-fingered hand caught his wrist and squeezed, holding him fast. He gasped in surprise, then clamped his lips shut – how embarrassing; am I that out of practice?
Oh, well; he found he didn’t mind much. He’d gotten what he wanted, hadn’t he? Now hazel eyes opened, their expression tolerantly amused; now that sweet-lipped mouth quirked its corners up; and still that hand held him tight, ah—
“Good morning, Garak.”
Really, he could burst.
“Good morning, Doctor. Did you sleep well?”
A lazy blink. “Oh, yes. When I slept.” The smile widened. “I could have used a little more, to be honest with you.”
Ah. Well. “You’re certainly welcome to sleep longer, my dear; we have nothing to do.”
“Oh, no,” and Julian’s tone was rather amused, “after all, you’ve been awake for quite some time now; I really should wake up and keep you company, don’t you think?”
Oh, that was embarrassing.
“And exactly how long have you been awake?”
Julian made a thoughtful face. “Oh, I should say… since you started puffing air at me?”
Well, I never did have much use for dignity…
“Ah.” He kept his face calm, and Julian grinned at him. “And may I ask why you felt the need to feign continued sleep?”
“Oh,” and a bit of a stretch, for dramatic effect, he was sure, “I was really rather curious as to what you’d do next. Bored Cardassians are very entertaining… or is that just you, Elim Garak?” And now Julian’s eyes widened, laughing up at him, and Garak really couldn’t find it in his heart to be irritated, oh, those eyes, that smile…
And here was this morning, perfect, it’s perfect, here was the sunlight, slanting in the window, here he was in bed with someone clever and charming and craved—
He leaned down and kissed Julian directly on that smug smile, and felt him laugh against his mouth; the grip on his wrist loosened, and Julian’s hand slid up to meet his own, fingers interlacing, ah—
He was weak, so weak, pliant and bending, and that had to be why when Julian suddenly turned the caress of hands into a shove, when he rolled himself over in one smooth movement and pushed Garak over onto his back, Garak was caught completely by surprise. The kiss broke as he thudded against the mattress, and he let out a small, startled grunt. He found himself staring up into two very amused eyes.
“That’s twice this morning I’ve surprised you, isn’t it. Pinch me, I must be dreaming.” Oh, Julian was so very pleased with himself, so very self-satisfied, and Garak found himself smiling up at him, fond and foolish; he saw Julian’s eyes widen, saw the softening of his gaze, the opening, the gentleness—
Hah! This was his chance – he struck, vigilant fingers ready for action, and tickled mercilessly, eliciting the most marvellous surprised shout—
And was pinned to the mattress by an irascible Julian Bashir, eyes widened now in a rather different way. “Garak!”
He blinked innocently. “Yes?”
“You – you are—” Such enchanting irritation!
“Charming? Delightful? Ah!” He widened his own eyes, all inspiration. “Perfect, perhaps?”
He saw Julian fight to keep his irritation alive, saw him fail, saw the laughter in his eyes; and when it burst from his lips, well, Garak felt charming and delightful and even perfect, all at once, because he’d made Julian laugh again – and on this ruined world, in this crumbling temporary-living complex, in this cramped apartment, Julian’s laughter spilled over and brightened all it touched.
He makes everything beautiful – everything, always—
Oh, he was truly helpless; the beauty caught him, tugged him up to catch Julian’s laughing mouth with his own, and the lazy morning wrapped around them both, and did not go at all to waste.