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"I fail to see how any of this will make me appreciate that dreadful film any more, Doctor." Garak sat primly on the edge of the sofa. "It seems like a tiresome exercise."
"Well, it's no kotra." Julian grinned, sitting cross-legged on the floor so the coffee table was between them. "But I think you'll gain an appreciation for it, all the same."
Garak rolled his eyes. "Unlikely. I took the liberty of doing a bit of research in the Federation database. It seems like a childishly simple game."
"Oh, is that what you're worried about? That you'll beat me too easily?" Julian's grin cracked even wider.
Garak hummed. "I know how competitive you are. I wouldn't want our friendship to suffer."
"You're very sure of yourself."
"Well, insomuch as this 'poker' does involve skill, it seems to involve deception and masking one's true emotions. I think we can agree that has never been your forte, Doctor."
Julian's smile only faded a little. "Unlike you," he said, more tartly than he meant to.
Garak widened his eyes a little. "Well, in customer service, such skills are useful on a daily basis."
"Of course." Julian opened the pack of cards. "Now. We'll be playing a slightly different variant than what's in the film, since there's only the two of us. It's called 'heads up.' We'll take turns acting as the dealer."
Garak nodded, his eyes on Julian's hands as he shuffled the deck.
Julian went on. "The game that Bond plays is called Texas Hold-Em."
"Texas," Garak echoed. "Like the Alamo."
"No relation," Julian chuckled.
"My understanding," said Garak, his eyes still following the deft movements of Julian's fingers, "is that one typically wagers something of value on the outcome of each round."
"Hand," Julian corrected. Garak's eyes flicked to his face, with an unspoken question. "It's not called a round , it's called a hand ."
"Ah. Nevertheless." Garak glanced around the room. "I notice you don't seem to have replicated any of those colorful plastic discs that I typically see associated with poker."
"Well, that's another thing. Chips are plenty of fun, but with only two people you certainly don't need them to keep track of who's ahead."
"You still haven't told me - what's the wager?"
"Oh! Well, we're just playing for fun. So you can learn the game. There's no need to make bets on the first few hands."
"How much fun could the game possibly be, with no stakes?"
"I didn't say we'd keep playing like that the whole time! Just a quick practice game to start, until you get the hang of it."
"Nonsense," Garak insisted. "Though, it is occurring to me that playing for latinum is hardly a fair wager. Or a particularly interesting one, seeing as you don't require money for your living expenses."
"Yes, well. I did think of that." Julian paused, still holding the deck. "I'm going to be dealer first, just to show you the ropes. Is that alright?"
"Of course, Doctor."
"But that means I get the small blind - that is to say, you have to bet first after the cards are on the table. It could give me an advantage in this hand, depending on how we decide to wager. If you really want to start off playing for real, you should know that."
Garak flicked his hand dismissively. "By all means. But you still haven't stated the wager."
Julian cleared his throat. "I thought we might play a variation I picked up in the Academy. It's…sort of a human tradition. It would make things easier, maybe a little more even, because the bet will be the same for every hand. I mean - you could choose to raise the stakes if you want to, but then it might be over too quickly. And really, you're right - it's better for me if your impressive bluffing skills don't even enter the equation."
Garak watched him impassively.
Now or never .
"It's called…strip poker."
Garak blinked. "So we are playing for latinum?"
That startled a laugh out of Julian. "No - not 'strip' as in strips of latinum. Strip as in - the stripping off of clothes."
Garak just watched him, his face still unreadable.
"Under these rules, the loser of each hand has to remove an article of clothing," Julian explained.
For a few breathless moments, they regarded each other.
"Is that all?" Garak said, at last.
"I…well, yes. The aim is to…not be the first person to end up naked."
Truthfully, no game of strip poker that Julian had ever played ended up getting that far before the rules were abandoned. But he knew better by now than to ever see Garak as a foregone conclusion.
A hint of a smile tugged at Garak's mouth, and he looked down at the cards. "How droll."
Julian began dealing. "You might have noticed I adjusted the temperature in my quarters."
Garak looked up at him again, this time with amusement in his eyes. "You're very sure of yourself, Doctor."
"Well! Just you wait, I think you'll be very grateful for my consideration after a few hands."
Quite frankly, he had been expecting more hesitation on Garak's part. But the man was, as ever, full of surprises.
"I suspect," Garak said, idly rotating his lowball glass on its coaster, "that I may be wearing more layers than you are."
Julian shrugged. "Seems fair to me. Since this is your first game." He nodded at the two cards in front of Garak. "You can look at them. I'm going to deal us each two more, but don't turn them over yet. Then I'm going to discard the next card in the deck - that's called 'burning' it, but don't get too excited, there's no actual fire - and then deal the first three community cards. That's called 'the flop.' It's a rather silly name, always makes me think of the pet rabbit one of my friends had in year three. You remember - Watership Down ? Only they don't talk, not in real life. But they do flop ." He made a demonstrative gesture with his hand.
He was aware that he was nervous, rambling, but Garak let him talk without interruption. He always did.
"Now," Julian said, dragging his focus back to the game. "Before I deal the rest, you have a choice. You can choose to swap out one or both of your cards for these two." He touched the two cards that were still facedown in front of Garak. "But it's a blind swap. A gamble. I imagine you ran across the ranking of poker hands in your research? Hang on, though - just to keep it fair." He picked up a PADD and pulled up a display of winning poker hands, ranked in order of value. He set it down on the table between them.
Garak smiled down at his cards. "That's very kind of you, Doctor. Though I'm quite capable of remembering."
"All the same, it's nice to have a visual reference."
Garak's hand hovered over the extra cards. "I was just remembering that thought experiment you told me about - with the three doors."
"You mean the one you fought with me about in the replimat for nearly three hours ?" Julian rose up onto his knees. "You know Odo threatened to write me up for that. It's called the Monty Hall Problem, by the way. And the principle doesn't apply here."
"Of course it doesn't apply - because it's absurd on the face of it!" Garak exclaimed.
Julian dragged his hands through his hair, groaning. "I'm not getting sucked into this again. Just pick a card, or don't."
After another moment's hesitation, Garak burned one of his cards and replaced it from the alternates. He did not visibly react when he saw the new card.
Julian reached for the deck. "Now I'm going to deal the turn, and the river. That's what we call the next two community cards. Normally we would do a fresh round of bets between each of those, but…well, like I said, we've already established a set wager."
"All the same," Garak cut in. "I'd like to raise."
Julian blinked. "This is just a practice round, Garak!"
"So say you . I would like to raise the stakes, all the same." Garak lifted two fingers and smiled.
"Fine," said Julian blithely. "I call. Two articles of clothing."
He had a two of spades and a three of diamonds, while the community cards were similarly dire - and there was simply no way to know if Garak was bluffing.
Until he laid his cards down.
"Three of a kind," he said, tapping the two sevens he held, then the one in the flop.
"I can read, thanks," Julian groused, tossing his cards on the table. "You got lucky this hand. And I got very un lucky. It won't happen again."
"You sound so sure," Garak said, watching as Julian reached for his boot and unzipped it.
"Shoes are clothing," Julian said, a bit defensively.
"They certainly are," Garak replied. Still watching him.
Once both boots were removed and set aside, Julian gathered up their cards and discarded them before dealing the next hand. "We can reset the bet to one, or keep it raised. I recommend resetting."
"Very wise," Garak said. "We wouldn't want this to be over too quickly."
Interestingly, the same logic that had led Julian to have a hasty wank in the shower before their game. But that was neither here nor there.
He really hadn't counted on Garak so readily raising the stakes. And he probably was wearing quite a few layers under that stiff mustard-colored suit. Julian wasn't exactly uncomfortable with the idea of slowly stripping under Garak's watchful gaze, he'd just been hoping for at least enough reciprocity to put Garak slightly off balance.
Julian dealt their hands, then the flop. This time Garak elected not to go for the swap, and Julian considered his own hand. Ace of spades, two of clubs. The flop had a three of diamonds, so a straight was possible on the river, if he got lucky.
"I would like to keep the bet at one," Garak said. "If it's still my place to make the first wager."
"For now," Julian said. "Eventually we'll switch off." He dealt the turn, then looked up at Garak. "Want to raise now?"
"No thank you."
Then, the turn. Four and five of clubs. Julian smiled and presented his cards. "I have a straight. That's five consecutive cards of any suit. The ace can be high or low for these purposes."
Garak sighed. "I'm aware of that, Doctor." He laid down his hand, which yielded nothing. Without having to be asked, he lifted one foot and slipped off one of his chestnut-brown chelsea boots. There was a plain black sock underneath. Julian dragged his eyes back to Garak's face.
"Alright," he said. "Did you want to try dealing?"
Garak nodded as Julian gathered the deck. "You began by spreading the cards out on the table in a pile and sifting them about."
"Washing," said Julian with a small smile. "They call it 'washing.' You don't have to do that bit again. Just shuffle."
He watched with rapt attention as Garak picked up the deck and performed an impressive, if rudimentary bridge shuffle between his hands. Had he been practicing for this?
"You always start by dealing to the other players - but alternate. So since it's just the two of us, one to me, one to you, et cetera."
Garak was following instructions rather well. "Then you 'burn' the next card before dealing the flop. Is that correct?"
"Exactly."
Julian schooled his face as he regarded his pocket aces. So far, he didn't have enough data on Garak to know how he would be expected to play going forward. He had raised the bet on a rather uninspiring hand, but the gamble paid off when Julian couldn't beat his three-of-a-kind.
If Julian raised now, Garak would likely suspect he was overconfident in his hand. But playing too cautiously with pocket aces was a rookie mistake, in Julian's opinion. He should raise the stakes.
The flop wasn't terribly encouraging - all the more reason to do it.
Julian chewed his lower lip. Garak was waiting on him.
"I'll raise to two," Julian said finally, keeping his tone flat.
"Fold," Garak said, setting his cards facedown on the table.
Julian gaped at him. "You can't - Garak, the game's no fun if you fold!"
A little frown tugged at Garak's mouth. "Surely you're not changing the rules on the fly, Doctor."
"Well! I thought it was assumed. We're not really betting - I mean - if you lose a hand you don't actually lose anything. You do get your clothes back at the end of the game, you know."
"I should certainly hope so."
"People don't usually fold in strip poker," Julian said, feeling lost. "I…I'm not even sure what it would mean ."
"In my limited understanding," Garak said calmly, "it means I only lose what I've already wagered. And that's one article of clothing." He lifted his other foot and removed his boot, setting it aside with the other.
"Fine," Julian groused. Garak dealt the rest of the cards and Julian ended up with a full house, but there was no pleasure in it.
"I believe I'm ready to begin the real game," Garak said, with a glint in his eye that Julian didn't entirely like. "Shall we put on our shoes, or are you comfortable starting like this?"
"This is fine," Julian said. He wasn't entirely sure that it was , but he didn't want to seem a coward. He gathered up the cards and riffled them. "I didn't realize you'd done so much homework."
Garak shrugged, taking his cards as they were dealt. "Only a little. One likes to be prepared."
The next hand wasn't promising for Julian either. But Garak didn't raise, so when the Cardassian ended up with two pair, Julian just peeled off one of his socks and stuffed it inside his boot without protest.
When Garak dealt next, Julian decided to swap his two of hearts for one of the spares, and ended up with pocket jacks.
"I raise to two," he said, looking up at Garaks' still impassive face.
"I call," Garak replied. He dealt the turn and the river slowly, never taking his eyes off of Julian's face.
"Four of a kind," said Julian as he displayed his hand on the table.
"Ah," said Garak, laying out his hand. "I only had three. I believe you have me beat, Doctor."
Julian didn't look down as Garak carefully removed both socks and set them atop his boots. He was beginning to feel a bit lopsided himself with only one sock on, but he was just going to have to stay that way.
On the next hand, Garak raised to two. Julian considered his pathetic hand and thought about folding - he could finally take off his second sock and risk nothing else - but the quiet tension in the room was becoming almost unbearable. He needed to let Garak escalate, if nothing else just to find out where the night was going.
He called, and as expected, Garak beat him with the high card. Julian peeled off his second sock and wiggled his toes a bit. He snuck a glance down below the coffee table, but he couldn't see much in the low light without staring for long enough to draw attention.
There was really only one logical choice for his next article. Julian reached up and began to unzip his jumpsuit. Garak's eyes followed his fingers, and there was a very brief, reptile-quick flick of his tongue between his lips.
Julian pushed the jumpsuit down to his waist.
Garak watched him expectantly.
The moments ticked by, interminably slow.
"Do you need some assistance, Doctor?"
Julian blinked a few times, playing innocent. "With what?"
"You seem to be having some trouble removing your uniform."
"There's no trouble," Julian said. "I've taken off the top half - just like a jacket, or a tunic. It only seems fair to count that as an article of clothing."
" Doctor ." Garak shook his head. "I'm disappointed in you. I would have thought a Starfleet officer would be more sportsmanlike in his conduct."
Julian sighed. He hadn't really expected Garak to let it go without comment, but surely he didn't expect - "Are you really asking me to take my pants off?"
"I'm not asking anything. You set the rules of the game, you elected to wear your uniform, and the jumpsuit is a single article of clothing. I know this for a fact - I have altered quite a few of them in my time on the station. In fact, if they count as a jacket and pants, I ought to have been charging more."
"Well, maybe you should!" Julian shot back.
"Doctor, if you're uncomfortable with the stakes -"
"I'm not -" Julian stood abruptly, almost bumping into the table as he went. With an aggrieved huff, he pushed the jumpsuit down until it pooled around his feet, then kicked it aside.
"There," he said, spreading his arms as if to display himself. "Are you happy?"
Garak kept his eyes on Julian's face. "Perfectly," he murmured, picking up his glass and taking a sip.
Julian sat back down, feeling flustered and unmoored. This wasn't how he'd pictured the night going. In any other context he would have stripped off his turtleneck by now, because long sleeves with Starfleet-issue briefs always felt absurd. But he was acutely aware that he only had three articles of clothing left now.
Garak, on the other hand…well, at least four. Likely more than that.
Isn't this what you wanted? A chance to…seduce him? It felt absurd now, sitting here across from the man. The very idea that he had thought it would be so easy. Show a bit of skin, throw him completely off his game - stupid .
He gathered the cards and dealt the next hand. Two of the flop were hearts, matching the three and seven in his hand, but he didn't raise the bet, and neither did Garak. On the river, Julian couldn't help smiling.
"Flush," he said, laying out his hand.
Garak sighed, setting his cards facedown on the table. "Lucky, Doctor." His fingers went to the side of his tunic, and he undid a few clasps with one deft movement. Julian's mouth suddenly felt very dry. He took a sip of his whiskey, but it didn't help.
The fabric was as thick as it looked, and the inside was lined with a smoother, silkier material. It looked like it would be comfortable to wear on its own, but of course Garak had on a close-fitting undershirt. It was a sort of muted, dusty blue, and it clung to Garak's arms and torso almost as tightly as Julian's own turtleneck.
Garak dealt then, and won the hand with a straight. There was a hint of a smile ghosting across his lips as he watched Julian pull his turtleneck over his head and toss it aside. He'd worn the sleeveless undershirt this time, and he was hyper-aware of how exposed he now was, even with his legs folded under him.
He had pocket sixes on the next hand, but he beat Garak with three of a kind. The undershirt was peeled off, briefly mussing Garak's unnaturally smooth hair before he set the shirt aside and smoothed it back down.
Julian didn't bother to pretend he wasn't staring. The teardrop scape on Garak's chest was lower than he'd seen on other Cardassians, but it was the two short ridges running vertically down his pectorals that Julian found most fascinating. He wondered if they were analogous to nipples in their sensation, if not their function. The patterning of the scales along his sides was also fascinating - in this light they almost shimmered.
On the next hand, Julian had pocket tens after swapping for one of the alternates. He watched as Garak dealt the rest of the community cards, searching for a hint of discomfort. For someone typically so buttoned-up, there was none. Perhaps it was truly just a matter of the temperature on the station that kept him so wrapped up.
Four of a kind. Julian had considered raising, but there was a chance Garak would actually be naked then - and that had suddenly felt like too much of an escalation. He almost regretted it now as he laid his cards down. Garak only had two pair.
"Very well," the tailor said in an even tone. He stood, and unfastened the belt around his waist.
The belt . It was the same color as the pants. Julian hadn't really noticed it, but now he wanted to curse its very existence.
"Don't pout," said Garak, as if reading his thoughts. "Surely a belt counts, if shoes do."
"Of course it counts. I'm not pouting ."
"You don't seem to be enjoying this game overly much, Doctor. Are you certain you want to continue?"
Julian met his eyes. His tone was teasing, but his expression was steady. It was a serious question. An almost unbearable fondness twisted in Julian's chest.
"Of course I do," he said.
Garak nodded and began to gather the cards.
"My turn to deal," Julian reminded him.
"Of course," Garak said. "My mistake." He held out the deck, and Julian took it, letting his fingers drag across Garak's more than they strictly needed to.
The flop was all hearts, and Julian had an ace of hearts in hand. When the river was revealed to be a six of hearts, he knew he'd likely won.
"Flush," he said, laying his hand out. "And I think it's safe to say I have the high card."
"You may, at that," Garak replied. "But…" And there it was. With a four and seven of hearts, he played a straight flush.
"Damn." Julian smiled up at him. "I really thought I had you, there."
Garak hummed noncommittally, taking another sip of his drink while Julian stripped off his undershirt.
They were both topless now, though Garak was still at least one ahead. Julian could feel the heat of his gaze on the newly revealed skin. This was more like he'd imagined, and he met Garak's eyes and smiled.
There was a tightness in his nipples and he wondered if Garak could tell they were hardening - if he even knew what it meant. There was a dark flush spreading on Garak's neck ridges, and Julian had his own suspicions that it signified something quite similar.
"What was the Constable going to write you up for?" Garak said.
Julian swallowed thickly. "Sorry - what ?"
"When we were discussing the Monty Hall Problem. You said that he threatened as such."
" Oh ." Julian laughed and pushed the cards across the table, closer to Garak. "Public indecency, of course."
Odo had phrased it a bit differently, but the implication was there. Besides, it was worth overstating in this case.
" Quite the overreaction," Garak said as he gathered up the cards. "Though perhaps it would have been wise to continue that particular conversation somewhere more private."
"So it is true," Julian said, leaning closer over the table. "Miles told me, but I figured he was missing some of the nuances."
"And what did the chief tell you, exactly?" Garak's tone was casual in a way that suggested he was putting a great deal of effort into keeping it that way.
Julian smiled as he watched Garak's hands. "I think you know."
"I don't see how I possibly could."
Julian elected to ignore his transparently feigned ignorance. "And I thought - you know, it makes sense. In a place with such strict social hierarchies, openly disagreeing with someone, let alone arguing , is a way of signaling that you're equals. Equal enough for a courtship, or…maybe just a casual fuck."
There - Garak's fingers faltered just slightly as he riffled the cards. "Goodness, Doctor. Language."
He glanced up then, and those clear blue eyes held a promise of wickedness that Julian hadn't seen there in years . The thrill went straight up and down his spine, swirled in his stomach, and then settled in his groin.
"Do you think we are?" Julian asked him. "Equals, I mean?"
Garak dealt their hands. "Not as such," he said. "But I am not under your direct authority."
Julian sat back on his heels and considered this. "I don't think of you as being under my authority at all," he said.
"Of course you wouldn't," Garak replied, fondly. "Your cards, Julian."
He gulped. Garak hadn't called him just Julian in…well, ever. Perhaps this was an attempt to deepen the intimacy between them. Perhaps it was a concession to the idea that Julian didn't wish to be treated as an authority figure. Likely, it was a mixture of both.
He picked up his hand. Two of hearts, six of clubs. Garak was dealing the flop. Three of diamonds, six of spades, ace of clubs.
Atrocious. He burned both of his cards and picked up the alternates. Three of hearts, nine of clubs. Fuck .
Bluffing wouldn't save him - he only had his underwear left. In a few minutes, inevitably, he was going to be naked.
"If I were to raise now," Garak said, "what would that mean for you?"
Julian shook his head, laughing a little. "I've honestly got no idea."
Garak dealt the turn - jack of hearts. The river. Three of clubs.
Fuck, fuck, fuck .
Julian took a deep breath, tried to calm his racing heart. This was what he wanted, wasn't it? There was absolutely no reason to be nervous. He knew Garak was attracted to him, he'd known that for years, and tonight he didn't seem interested in hiding it. Things were just about going as well as he could have hoped, so why did he feel so anxious at the idea of stripping down to his skin in front of him?
There was nothing for it. Julian laid out his cards. He said nothing, but readied himself to stand, until Garak made a small noise.
"I'm afraid this was a terrible round for both of us," he said. "Three of diamonds, two of hearts. I believe that gives you the high card this hand."
Shamefully, it actually took Julian a moment to realize.
He ought to let it be. He really ought to.
"Show me," Julian said.
Garak looked up, startled. He'd already begun unfastening his pants, but had not yet stood. "I intend to," he said.
"Your cards ," Julian insisted. He reached for them, but Garak snatched them away, holding them to his chest.
"You don't trust me, Doctor?" His eyes widened. "Why would I lie about something like this?"
"You can't have the two of hearts," Julian said. "I had it in my original hand, before I burned it."
"My mistake," Garak replied smoothly. "It must have been the two of diamonds. I'm still learning the suits."
"Then show me ."
"Why are you so insistent?"
"Because if you're telling the truth, then you have no reason to hide."
"And if I'm lying?" Garak tilted his head. He still had the cards clutched to his chest.
Slowly, Julian stood. Garak's eyes stayed on his face, but he could tell it took an effort.
"Then you're trying to spare me the humiliation of losing," he said, his voice husky in his own ears. "And that's very kind of you, but you really needn't bother."
The attack of nerves hadn't really done much to quell his arousal, and it was coming back now that he felt on firmer footing. He hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his briefs and tugged them down.
Garak inhaled sharply, eyes flicking down briefly and then back up to his face.
"I was wrong," he said. "About you being unsportsmanlike."
Julian smirked, but it soon faded into something softer and more genuine. "Garak, you don't have to lie to protect me. Especially not from myself . I wanted to do this."
"Wanted," Garak echoed.
" Want ," Julian corrected. "Still do."
"And what is it that you want, exactly?"
Julian let out a long, slow breath. "You," he said. "With a side of plausible deniability - which I thought you would appreciate."
"Oh, I do." Garak's voice was low and silky. He was allowing his gaze to rove over Julian's body now, really drinking him in. Julian's cock twitched in interest, and Garak smiled.
"That's a good sign, if you were wondering," Julian said.
"Yes." Garak beckoned him closer with one finger, and Julian went easily. "Mine does something quite similar, you know. Though it's considerably less of a vulgar display."
"Are you calling my body vulgar ?"
Garak tilted his head again. "There may be some subtleties lost in translation. Perhaps a better word would be… wanton ."
"Well, I feel it," Julian replied. "Though I can be vulgar, too - if that's the sort of thing you're into."
"I've no doubt of it." Garak's hands rested lightly on Julian's hips. "But you did take offense to my wording."
"Well - it's fine to be vulgar if it's on purpose. But I don't want you judging my character based on my anatomy."
Garak leaned in so close that Julian could have easily bumped his nose if he made a wrong move. "Forgive me. It was an idle comment."
"I might find it in my heart." Julian touched the side of his face, traced an eye ridge with his thumb. "Now, why don't you show me how subtle and demure your body is, in the interest of comparative anatomy?"
Garak stood then, and finished the job he had begun earlier. Once his trousers were undone, he pushed them down his thighs, and Julian quickly knelt to ease them down the rest of the way. This revealed a pair of thermal leggings in that same dusty blue. He could smell something now - sweet musk with a hint of ozone, and he thought, hoped it meant Garak was as keen on these developments as he was.
He reached for the waistband and looked up at Garak for confirmation. A single, decisive nod was all he got - but thankfully that was all he needed.
Still, it was all starting to feel a little too perfunctory. That was probably his fault, for starting things the way he did.
"Have you ever thought about this?" he asked, trying to keep his tone low and sultry. There was no truly sexy way to pull off thermal undergarments, but he was doing his best. "Me, on my knees for you?"
Garak's laryngeal prominence moved noticeably as he swallowed. Hard. "You do have a high opinion of yourself," he said softly.
"I think you have," Julian said. He had the leggings all the way down now, and Garak stepped out of the pile of fabric. "Maybe not exactly like this -"
"I didn't imagine it beginning with a card game, I admit." Garak seemed to have regained some of his composure, and he reached out to run his fingers through Julian's hair. "But…"
He was still unwilling to fully admit it, even with Julian practically giftwrapping the confession for him. Ah well. They'd work up to it.
"I've thought about this," Julian said. "Tasting you." The slit between Garak's legs looked to be blooming open, like a glistening flower. The overlapping scales along the edges only added to the effect.
He understood now what Garak had meant by vulgar . All his bits on display - it must be positively obscene by Cardassian standards.
Garak's eyes had darkened with desire but his mind was still working overtime - Julian could tell, the way he was struggling to formulate a response. It wasn't just unqualified lust.
A typical question under these circumstances might be would you like that? But he suspected Garak might find that even more confounding, so he compromised.
"May I?" he asked, lashes fluttering beseechingly.
"Of course." There was almost a little breathless quiver to his voice, and wasn't that interesting. Something underneath the finely scaled labia visibly shifted.
Good signs, all of them. Whatever his hesitation, it wasn't a lack of desire - just an unwillingness to own it. But that was alright. Julian could own it all for him, he could play the role of the insatiable alien lover who didn't know enough to respect cultural taboos, for whom allowances simply had to be made. It wouldn't even be the first time he had done it.
He leaned in - the scent was stronger now, and he could see the glistening on Garak's inner thighs. An almost painful throb of arousal pulsed through his cock.
Then he leaned in, and experimentally swiped the flat of his tongue along the most swollen part of the genital slit.
Garak hissed, then pitched forward, one hand clutching at Julian's shoulder. The doctor huffed, then grinned.
"Bed?" he suggested.
"Yes," Garak exhaled, still leaning on him heavily. He collected himself a moment later, standing up and pulling Julian to his feet with a surprising burst of strength. Julian knew he weighed next to nothing, even with his enhanced muscle density, but it still gave him a bit of a thrill. The thrill only deepened when Garak grabbed him by the nape of the neck and pulled him into a searing kiss.
The sour, musky taste of him was still on Julian's tongue. He wanted more. But Garak was manhandling him into bed and he had no real interest in pushing back, so they stumbled onto the mattress together, and the most Julian managed to do was maneuver a leg between Garak's thighs. All of this between frantic kisses, tongue and teeth, and now he could really feel the pressure of what was presumably Garak's cock trying to escape its sheath. But when he tried to pull his leg back to give it room, Garak growled, clamping his thighs tightly around him.
Ah well then.
They writhed against each other, and Julian finally got his teeth on those neck ridges, now unmistakably swollen and stained black with arousal. He scraped at first, then bit lightly, then tried a little harder when the rumbling noise in Garak's chest got louder.
His cock was rubbing against the velvety microscales on Garak's stomach. It was a little dry to be ideal, but it still sent little sparks of pleasure up his spine with every movement.
"Harder," Garak growled in his ear, and he realized a moment later what it meant. He bit down hard on the scale at the juncture of Garak's neck and shoulder, the one that was supposedly used to claim one's mate (according to Quark, as much as he was to be trusted about anything). Garak's movements paused for a moment, then went briefly frantic as his teeth connected with Julian's shoulder in an answering bite. He groaned, then went limp.
His thighs now finally relaxed, and Julian felt something warm and very wet push its way out, sliding against his leg.
Slightly dazed with lust, Julian reached down and swiped up a handful of what could only be Cardassian ejaculate mixed with whatever lubrication he'd tasted earlier, before finally grabbing hold of his neglected cock. He took up a quick rhythm, and Garak nuzzling into his neck, blatantly scenting him, only nudged him closer to the edge.
The sharp pleasure, the rush of relief, and it took a few fuzzy moments in the afterglow for him to realize the soft, warm sensation on his chest was Garak licking him clean .
He managed to bite back an indulgent laugh, knowing Garak would take it wrong. His most status-obsessed friend, who carefully tucked a napkin into his collar before delicately eating his way through a hasperat souffle…
Well. A man could contain multitudes. That was certainly true of Garak, and it always had been.
"I can't believe you almost let me win," Julian murmured.
Garak chuckled against his clavicle. "I invite you to try and prove it."
Only now, Julian vaguely remembered them bumping into the table as they kissed, which certainly would have mixed up the cards enough that he could never be sure.
"Don't need to," he said. "Anyway, your secret's safe with me."
Garak made an aggrieved noise, but then just quietly pressed a kiss to the corner of Julian's jaw.