doctor_tailor | Fic: "Lost in Translation" 4/4

Title: Lost in Translation 4/4
Pairing: Garak/Bashir
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1762
Summary: Julian goes to thank Garak for his help in the matter of Tahna Los, and gets a lot more than he bargained for.
Notes: Takes place a couple of days after the S1 episode "Past Prologue".

Part One here.
Part Two here.
Part Three here.

*************************************

"I said hush," Garak admonished him again, sounded remarkably composed for a man buried sheath-deep in Julian's ass; his hands shifted again, settling on Julian's hips with a controlling grip that was both disquieting and reassuring. Julian tried his best to obey as that alien erection slid slowly out again, the reverse suction and the ridges combining to produce such overwhelming sensory input that he couldn't stop tiny high-pitched whining noises from bursting free… but Garak wasn't scolding him this time so he supposed the whimpering was acceptable, which was fortunate because it was rather beyond his control. And slowly in, glorious swelling pressure and pure heat over his prostate; this time he did manage to bite back most of the cry that rose from the core of him and stuttered brokenly into the dark air of the shop, and he restrained it again on the next stroke, and on the next. Considering the circumstances he was feeling pretty damned pleased with himself — well, the tiny fraction of his mind that wasn't utterly consumed with lust was, anyway — when Garak took harder hold of his hips and shifted his stance ever so slightly, and Julian barely had time to register the change before the Cardassian moved into high gear.

For a couple of seconds Julian flat-out couldn't breathe: he was being pounded into the table, and the exponential increase in intensity was beyond anything it would ever have occurred to him to imagine. When his diaphragm unlocked he spent his first full breath in a near-scream, which earned him a sharp growl and a hand clamped firmly over his open mouth. It took him another couple of seconds to realize that he didn't mind this in the least: in fact, it gave him the liberty to yell even louder without alerting half the Promenade to what was going on inside Garak's Clothiers. He let himself go, uttering muffled screams against the palm of Garak's hand and writhing on his impromptu bed of fabric samples, barely hearing the increasingly loud rumbles Garak was emitting as the pace of his thrusts kicked up another notch — because he was divinely and obscenely full, drowning in waves of heat whose periodicity was rapidly increasing, and he just wanted to lie there and get fucked forever.

Forever, as it turned out, was something less than fifteen seconds. When the cycles peaked Julian was dimly aware, through the sweet pulses of release as spurt after spurt of his spunk splattered the side of the display table, that he was probably vocalizing loudly enough to be heard in Quark's Bar in spite of Garak's restraining hand, but he found it almost impossible to care. He'd barely started to come down when he felt Garak stiffen, still thrusting as pulses of liquid filled Julian's rectum, prompting another long moan and a final shudder of fading ecstasy that left Julian warmly glowing, feeling hot and dirty and delirious. It was a sensation only enhanced when Garak pulled out a little, permitting a trickle of Cardassian semen to trail down his perineum toward his balls; he stretched and purred, eyes blissfully closed, and grinned against the palm of Garak's hand.

For a few seconds they rested, still interlocked, catching their breath; then Garak withdrew completely, creating a shock of emptiness that left Julian feeling strangely bereft, and released the Human to reach for another piece of fabric on the table. It turned out to be soft and absorbent when he used it to clean Julian up with a few gentle strokes; Julian was content to lie where he was, letting the table support his weight while Garak applied the cloth to himself, then set it back on the flat surface before swiftly refastening his own clothing. Julian was still grinning like a loon when Garak took hold of his shoulders again and got him vertical, then turned him around to lean against the table's edge — but his eyes were open now, and when he tried to meet Garak's gaze he found the tailor apparently fully focused on wiping his paramour's penis clean.

When Garak moved to set the cloth aside again Julian shook his head and took hold of his briefs. "I can take it from here, thanks."

At once Garak nodded, his eyes flickering to Julian's for an instant, opaque and cool. "As you wish, Doctor," he said, and after stooping to reach between Julian's opened thighs to give the side of the table a quick swipe he collected the crumpled piece of white spider silk from the floor and disappeared into the back of the shop, his booted feet making almost no sound on the carpet.

Julian tucked himself back into his underwear and pulled up his pants, trying not to make too much of Garak's sudden distance as he put his uniform back in order. He also thanked God that he didn't have to go back to the Infirmary, because he was pretty sure he was wearing an I've just been fucked face par excellence. When he was finished he leaned back against the table's edge again and rested his hands on it, fingers curling around it as he stared into the middle distance and tried to make sense of what had just occurred. The bare facts — Garak just fucked me, and my God, it was fantastic! — surely concealed more than just a rough physical encounter…

… but there wasn't much time to consider such things: he was still pondering when Garak emerged seconds later, having evidently taken care of the soiled fabrics, and came over to lean against the table on Julian's right side in a similar posture. A sidelong glance at the Cardassian revealed a serene expression, and for several long moments there was silence between them that felt, to Julian, strangely comfortable.

"Not that I'm complaining, you understand," he said at last, "but what exactly brought this on?"

He sensed movement out of the corner of his eye, and turning his head he found Garak looking at him with what seemed to be mild surprise. "You did accept my invitation to experience some enjoyable company, didn't you?"

"Well…" It was an unexpected response, and Julian wasn't quite sure what to make of it. "I suppose I did… but this wasn't quite what I had in mind."

"Wasn't it?" Garak's tone was flatter, his eyes narrowing: evidently he was rethinking the terms of this conversation as well.

"Frankly, no. That phrase brings to mind… I don't know, a cup of tea and a pleasant chat, not…"

The Cardassian's eyes gleamed, his thin smile suddenly mischievous. "Vigorous sodomy?"

Julian felt a hot flush rise on his cheekbones. "When you put it that way — no."

Garak tipped his head back and chuffed soft laughter for a couple of seconds. "Oh, my dear Doctor… you're obviously unfamiliar with the Cardassian language. When I offered you 'a bit of enjoyable company now and then' and laid my hands on your shoulders, is that really all you thought I was implying?"

"The phrase 'enjoyable company' is pretty innocuous, in Terran Standard." A horrible suspicion was beginning to dawn. "Why, what does it mean in Kardasi?"

Now Garak's smile was almost kind. "I'd expound on the precise phraseology, but your universal translator would probably only simplify it all over again. Let's just say that it can mean anything from that nice cup of tea you mentioned to what's just transpired." His left hand settled on Julian's right thigh just above the knee, heavy and companionable, as he leaned a little closer, his voice falling to a more intimate register. "And really, I did touch your shoulders quite blatantly. If you weren't interested you should have said something at that moment."

"But I didn't even know!"

Garak's smile grew wicked. "Oh, but I think you did."

Thinking back to the slow firm pressure of Garak's hands on his shoulders, the insinuating glide of the Cardassian's voice and the way his touch had lingered, Julian had to concede the point. "Is the gesture significant in Cardassian culture because the ridges on the neck are erogenous zones?"

"Really, Doctor!" Garak looked almost wounded. "Won't you leave us at least some mysteries?"

Oh, I've barely begun, Julian thought, hoping that his smile wasn't too eager. "You'll have to forgive me: I came here to learn new things, and you're my best chance at finding out anything about Cardassian physiology and culture."

"I'd say I've just given you an entire free seminar," Garak quipped, then looked more grave. "But in all seriousness, Doctor, if I've violated some Terran cultural —"

Julian leaned in to silence him with a quick kiss. "Oh, believe me, if I'd objected I would have let you know."

The kiss seemed to surprise him: for an instant his gaze became positively piercing, before taking cover again behind a facade of mild friendliness. "I see. Well, that's good to know."

"But next time," Julian added, reaching over to lay his right hand on Garak's left thigh, "we're going to do this on a bed."

Garak nodded. "It's probably safer that way."

Julian kissed him again, suspecting with a sinking heart that the distance he saw in Garak's face was all there really was to this. The response, though smouldering rather than full of outright flame, contained enough heat to reassure him on that score. So you like to play it close to the vest, do you, my Cardassian friend? Well, you'll find I'm not put off so easily!

"I'd still like to take you for that drink in Quark's," he said, giving Garak's knee a saucy squeeze before removing his hand and straightening. "God knows I could use one myself after all that exertion, and I'm not very fond of drinking alone. Join me?"

Garak regarded him for a moment, and this time the curve of his lips managed to be amused, affectionate and enigmatic all at once. "Rest assured, dear Doctor, that wild targs couldn't keep me away. Perhaps, with a little dedication, we'll find some more… cultural misunderstandings we'd like to explore."

"I'm looking forward to it," Julian nodded, and as they headed for the door side by side he decided that he was going to like it here on Deep Space Nine for many reasons, including a few that had nothing to do with his official duties as a Starfleet officer at the edge of the wild frontier.

THE END