Work Text:
Julian brushed off the sight of Jadzia firmly tugging the Commander out of the infirmary and Sisko's helpless glance back.
The Commander knew better than he how mischievous Jadzia could be; she was just getting into the spirit of the Bajoran holiday. Still, she should be thankful she was such good friends with the Commander, not just anyone could get away with a stunt like that. He would never understand the appeal of that kind of humor.
Pulled back into the quietly humming infirmary from the promenade's rambunctious festivities, the desire to return to his research hit him full force. The Bajoran texts on Orkett's disease had been just what he was looking for to supplement his study of Arkarian Byar disease. Unfortunately, he only had half an hour until he was expected to be at the much-hyped party, and he would hate to have to pull himself away from his screen when he was in the thick of it.
"There you are, Doctor."
Julian turned in surprise at the self-assured voice and promptly stifled a laugh at the sight of Odo pinned at the side of one Lwaxana Troi.
"Madame Ambassador, hello."
His eyes flickered away for a second before firmly meeting her gaze. Betazoids would always make him uncomfortable – the way they could read people, know how their minds worked. And here he was with so much to hide. But Ambassador Troi did not deserve his mistrust.
"You're invited to this shindig too, right? Odo and I are heading there now if you'd like to come along?"
Julian's eyebrows rose minutely. It was nice of her to extend the offer to him (as Odo was surely not the cause of their appearance) from the few interactions they had had as he herded around four difficult Ambassadors. It was probably for the best to accept, otherwise he'd be kicking around on the Promenade for twenty-some odd minutes. The festival was nice and all, but Miles was busy with Keiko, Jadzia with Sisko, and Garak was off the station entirely.
"Uh. Yes I am, going that is. And I'd be happy to join you."
"Perfect, get over here."
The Ambassador beckoned him closer.
Julian looked to the proffered arm and over to Odo, stiff as a board, whose eyes shot him an expression best translated as 'Save yourself before it's too late!'. Hmmh, he smiled tightly. He crossed the small distance and let himself be snatched up.
The Ambassador floated along, and Julian tried to keep a courteous march of his own.
They rounded a corner just in time to stop Major Kira from walking through the wrong hallway.
The Major did not seem happy when Odo pointed out her mistake. She shouldn't feel bad, he had certainly gotten lost a number of times in the circular and branching pathways since coming aboard.
"Commander Sisko's party?" Julian chimed in as Kira seemed to look to him for further clarification.
The Major stiffened up. "Oh I'm, not going."
"Why ever not?" Lwaxana asked.
"Because Bareil will be there."
Well that didn't seem like a very good reason, they were together, weren't they?
"I thought the two of you were very happy together," Odo probed hesitantly.
"So did I. But it turns out he'd rather be with Dax than me. And to make matters worse, I have Jake Sisko chasing me around the station, professing his undying love."
The connection to Jadzia and Commander Sisko's predicament was undeniable. Julian jumped in to explain what he had witnessed.
"Apparently it was only a joke," he ended with, but now he wasn't quite convinced. Oh, this was shaping up to be exciting! An illness or drug that resulted in heightened amorous tendencies?
"Maybe I should take another look at Jadzia's test results. Excuse me. Constable, would you tell Commander Sisko that I'll be a little late?"
He kept a straight face but his mind was already whirring away. With such an interesting medical mystery, he hoped the Commander would forgive him if he ended up not showing at all.
Oh! He flinched. For a second there, his head hurt terribly, like running head-first into a bulkhead. He placed a light touch to his temple. A heartbeat later, the ache faded to nothing. He blinked several times, clearing his head. A problem for another day. He jumped right back in on chipping away at the puzzle before him. Could this be a type of airborne pathogen? Something ingested? There were a lot of stands set up in the promenade selling non-replicated foods…
He really needed to look over Jadzia's results again.
"I should be getting to the Infirmary."
"I think I'm going to go to the party after all."
Julian froze a few steps away from the hallway junction. He turned to see Kira facing the hallway Odo and the Ambassador had disappeared through. "Really? Is… is that wise?"
Kira did not deign to give him a response. He really hoped Bareil would be alright if she had gone in to tell him a thing or two, although the determined look on her face as she marched off did not bode well for his safety.
A quick walk to the infirmary was made quicker with him getting lost in speculation, data from Jadzia's results being cross-referenced with everything he knew about the parts of the brain most susceptible to aphrodisiacs.
In the infirmary, he rubbed at his forehead as he sent Jadzia's file to his office.
The door wooshed closed behind him and he sighed in relief as he sat in his well-worn chair.
Now for the file.
His thoughts drifted for a second as he read the first few lines of Jadzia's toxicology report.
How was Garak doing? All the way out in Ferengi space buying fabrics. Was he lonely? His friend had not said it directly, but Julian was sure Garak had chosen this sale to avoid the whole Gratitude Festival. Bajoran self-expression did not bode well for the sole Cardassian on board. He should call him, he really should. Surely, Garak would be happy to see a friendly face. Even a smug, sanctimonious one.
Mind set, Julian closed Jadzia's file and opened a subspace link. His breath turned ragged waiting for the call to connect, then let it out in one big sigh as Garak's face filled the screen.
"My dear Doctor, I did not expect a call from you. How are the festivities? I see the shirt I made you fits well, although I still must point out my objections to the colors you chose."
"The festival is fine, boring without you, though," Julian brushed away.
"And it does fit well, thank you! I'd like to order a hundred more like it. And I'll take all your fashion advice in the future. You were right, I'm hopeless," he said with a fond shake of his head.
"Well, I'm glad you have come to your senses. Is that all you wanted to say?"
"No!" Julian didn't know what he would do if Garak hung up now. Curl up in a ball on the infirmary floor, never to be happy again.
"I just couldn't stand to stay silent another second."
Garak raised an eyeridge. "Oh?"
"You are the most amazing person I've ever met. You're resourceful, enigmatic, you tell the most amazing stories about the most convoluted topics. You're my closest friend on this station, you've stuck with me even when I'm annoying you or have the worst tastes in literature. Garak, you mean so much to me."
Julian licked his lips. Silence roared around him as the next words lined themselves up. The words he should have said so long ago.
"I love you."
"Doctor!"
"No!" Julian cut him off once more. Garak needed to know.
"Let me speak, please. You're gorgeous. I'm sure you knew that already. Your hands are so skilled, crafting the most delicate garments. And the way you look when you really, honestly smile. I wish I got to see you smile like that more often, seeing you light up like that is worth more than all the latinum in the universe. I treasure our lunches more than anything else on this station. When you first came up to me, I was so overwhelmed. You should have seen me bouncing around in ops. Even back then, you were all I could think about."
Julian was sure Garak was hiding his true emotions under that blank face as he continued his litany of worship. And Garak's talent of looking calm and in control was just another thing to add to the ever-growing list of things he loved about the Cardassian.
"Perfect, perfect, perfect, perfect, perfect," Julian insisted, pressing in closer to the screen. Why weren't his screens bigger? Garak was nowhere near as big as he'd be in real-life. No pretty hands to look at and hold, and he could barely see the slope of those defined neck-ridges. He may not have the Cardassian appreciation for them, but he could certainly see the appeal of giving them a nibble. Oh, he'd love to give Garak a little nibble.
"Julian?" Garak's voice had the most perfect whining quality and hearing his first name made his head spin in dizzy happiness.
"Yep, that's me."
And it was him! Flirting with Garak! The warmth brewing inside him lit up like a super-nova. He felt amazing, like he could take on anything! And his mind, usually so full of running statistics and day-to-day worries, was just Garak. Garak Garak Garak Elim Garak. What a lovely name, he could live the rest of his life with only that name on his lips.
He rocked in his seat, emotions fizzling around him, heart nearly beating out of his chest. Here he was, talking to the love of his life. If Garak would only have him.
***
Garak could not get a word in edgewise but was increasingly worried about what would happen to his friend if he dared turn off the channel.
"Gooood, Garak. I want to run my hands through your hair, I want to know how you look like under all those layers. Garak, I'm all hot and bothered. Are you alone? We could get a bit wild."
Garak's blood sang at the idea, but that was a line he would never cross. Hearing deranged compliments of his way of speech, piercing gaze, physical prowess, and sartorial genius was all well and good, but seeing Bashir debase himself while obviously under some kind of influence was not.
"Sisko to Bashir"
Garak came alive with renewed hope.
"Hmm, I think I'd rather this be a private meeting."
Garak cringed as Bashir plucked off his combadge and flicked it aside. "Now, where were we?"
Dreading a return to the previous train of thought, Garak needed something that would appeal to this passionate and confused Julian Bashir and he needed it now.
"I was telling you about the new clothes I would dress you in, remember, my dear?"
"You were? Well, go on then, I've droned on long enough. Your voice is so much better."
Garak sighed in relief. The human still looked a bit too flush for comfort, but it was infinitely preferable to the lust-addled gaze.
"Well, as I was saying, your uniform would have to go. I'm thinking an entire wardrobe of the softest Triaxian silk. The material is very difficult to work with, but it is worth it for you. And to ensure the best fit, I believe I will be taking my measurements by hand."
Garak came alive in his role but kept a part of himself focused on observing the doctor. Currently, he was staring at him in silent rapture, mouth slightly agape and hands wiggling at his sides. Garak explained in copious detail how each garment would hang along his shoulders and arms, how he would weave sparkling beads through the material and pick out the most gorgeous jewels to sew into the collars. In his new outfits, Julian could have any suitor, but he would be Garak's alone.
For a second, Garak stumbled. Bashir was not his. As much as Bashir hung on to his words at lunch, he did not do so with the passion of the man across the screen. Right now, his friend was not in his right mind, and whatever drug or alien influence that was there needed to be cleansed from his system as soon as possible.
A knock at the Doctor's door pulled Garak out of his next speech on all the places they could visit together and the eveningwear that Julian would sport.
"Doctor. Commander Sisko needs to see you in the wardroom."
"Ignore the Constable, please. Could you make an outfit with a tie?"
Garak was not sure what a tie was, but that was lightyears from his mind now. "Julian, open the door for Odo," he commanded.
Bashir groaned in annoyance and threw his head back. "Tell him I'll be there shortly!"
Odo opened the door. "Now, Doctor!"
Julian looked like an upset hatchling at Odo's harsh tone, face scrunched into a pout.
"Doctor, go with Odo. I'm back on the station, I wanted to keep it a surprise. Odo will take you to me."
Garak was about to explain it all to Odo, but his dear Julian gasped in delight and the last image Garak saw before the connection was cut was the doctor leaping up and slamming a hand to the console panel."
He leaned back into his hotel room chair and stared at the screen. Distress and helplessness warred in his reflected eyes.
***
Odo and the Ambassador were walking too slow!
"Isn't Garak just astounding? I can't believe he came back early for me!"
"I really don't think he did, Doctor."
Julian pushed aside that nasty little comment. Lwaxana much nicer than the Constable anyway, nodding along to Julian's observations and complimenting Garak's skills as a tailor.
Julian practically ran into the wardroom when the door came into in sight. His head swiveled around. Where could Garak be hiding?
There was the command crew, Bajorans in their grey formal wear…
Julian pushed his way to the wardroom terminal and punched in Garak's subspace account number.
"Garak!"
And there he was, sitting all prim and proper, hotel room in the background.
"You lied to me!" Why would Garak do that? It was a cruel joke!
Garak just smiled. "Guilty as charged."
Julian sighed and clucked his tongue. "Oh, I can never stay mad at you." He pushed himself closer to the screen. And what a wonderful screen it was! So much bigger than the one in his infirmary.
"Your eyes are so beautiful," he whimpered.
***
Garak smiled through the annoyance and attempted to look at the background beyond Julian's encompassing frame.
"Oh, I wish you were here with me."
"Now Doctor, we have company," Garak reminded carefully, although he knew that the human would hardly care. He just hoped his friend wouldn't do anything to mortally embarrass himself in front of such an audience.
The doctor shifted and Garak got a better view of the wardroom.
Lieutenant Dax was draped over an uncomfortable Sisko, the Vedek seemed to be beseeching the two of them. The Major was crying next to the Vedek, gesturing between him and the Lieutenant.
Overall, he was very grateful that he was not on the station. If these were just the senior officers, he could hardly imagine the state of the promenade.
But what could he do from here? What if the disease progressed? What if people were irreparably changed? In his right mind, the Doctor could possibly find a solution, but at the moment, he wasn't much help to anyone. Garak huffed. No, that couldn't be the end of it. He knew his brilliant friend was still in front of him, his focus was just… redirected at the moment. And perhaps that could be the key to it all.
"Dearest, you're so clever, did you know that?" Garak started.
Bashir's smile widened ever further. "You really think so?"
"Of course. You are an astounding doctor. What would you say to a disease affecting people's senses of romantic activity?"
"Well, I would say that the limbic system would be most susceptible, or something that can alter the neurotransmitters. There are certain known aphrodisiacs that are banned such as Regalian liquid crystal. The effects of Orion women are also very well documented."
"Would you say you and your friends have come across something of similar properties?"
***
Julian wanted to scoff. There were no Orions on-board and he would surely know if he were making out with a stranger or feeling the burning desire to procreate. But his friends…
He tore his gaze away from Garak to glance around. Bareil was on the floor with Kira straddling him. Jadzia was once again pressed against Commander Sisko. He had never looked at her file… As he watched, Quark clucked Keiko close to him. That was out of character, wasn't it?
But… He looked back at Garak while his heart deflated. Shame flooded him. Garak just smiled kindly.
It took the effort of a hundred Klingons, but Garak blipped out of existence as he closed the channel.
"Doctor."
Julian turned toward the Commander, who had somehow snuck up to his side. He tried to focus on Sisko's next words through the feeling of a black hole collapsing in his chest.
"I believe Mrs. Troi is the cause of all this."
A problem to solve. Yes, that was just what he needed. A Betazoid, emotional manipulation… His mind ran through the gamut of possibilities and the answer was suddenly so simple.
"Yes, I think I have an idea what's going on. Let's get the Ambassador to the infirmary."
"By all means, Doctor."
Julian felt hyper-aware as the three of them wove his way through the Promenade. Spirited couples and quite a few jilted lovers moved like holo-characters all around them. He really hadn't seen the signs in himself? Obviously that was part of the disease, but knowing his inhibitions could be so easily and thoroughly ripped away… And he shouldn't have hung up so rudely on Garak, Garak was going to be cross with him. He jerked himself back to the present. No, there would be none of that. People were counting on him.
They made it to the infirmary and two quick tests confirmed his hypothesis. Lwaxana took the news with little fuss after an obligatory objection to her maturity, and Julian tried to help the Commander feel less awkward about Dax's apparent subconscious attraction.
"A simple wide spectrum antiviral agent should cure Mrs. Troi, and as for everyone else, well they'll be back to normal in a day or two."
At least Garak had been far away when this happened, his friend hardly deserved to be subjected to his feverish ramblings, let alone what he had seen in friends. He had gotten off lucky, he supposed, with the object of his affections firmly out of reach.
Sisko nodded and Julian went to his computer to pull up what he needed. Just as he promised, he had the agent created and administered within five minutes, only needing to tweak the formula to factor in Mrs. Troi's age and exceptional telepathic abilities.
Lwaxana patted him on the cheek and glided out of the infirmary.
"I think I'm going to head in for the night," Julian commented mostly to himself, although Sisko was still hovering by the exit. Truly, he was exhausted from the whirlwind of a day.
As he reached the door, the Commander placed a hand on his arm. Julian blinked uncomprehendingly.
"You might want to have the Chief disable your subspace connections before you head over."
His cheeks flushed. He wanted to protest, but Sisko's voice was kind and his advice was more than sound. "I'll handle it, Commander. Thank you."
The Zanthi Fever PSAs on screens and over speakers pressed down around him as he pushed his way through the crowded station. He wrapped his arms around himself. Yes, he knew he was infected, but the disconnect was immense. He just… he wanted so badly to see Garak again – his cat-that-got-the-canary smile, those bright eyes, that sharp tongue.
The smart thing, the only thing to do, really, would be to follow the Commander's suggestion. Miles would gladly shut off his subspace connection and, to make matters worse, would probably even offer to keep him company to make sure he didn't do anything rash.
Julian was pretty sure Miles knew his feelings for Garak were a bit closer to the surface than Dax's attraction to the Commander. He may not have said it in so many words, but he had never skirted away from expressing his appreciation for his Cardassian friend.
And he also had to think about Garak. If he were ever to have confessed his feelings for his friend, it would have been over dinner. He'd invite him over and have the lights low. He would have replicated all of Garak's favorite foods and his speech would have been articulate and planned to the letter. Instead, the words had come out messy and unrehearsed over subspace on his work computer. To make matters worse, Garak had immediately determined that he wasn't in his right mind. It was so out of the realm of possibility to Garak that Julian had these feelings that he knew something unnatural had to be causing it.
He made it to his room and into the bathroom, pulling himself out of his lovely outfit and staring at his dismal reflection for a while. His sonic shower was perfunctory. There wasn't an ounce of lust in him anymore, thoughts repeating like a broken holo-recording about Garak and bad ideas and the Commander's assured disappointment if he did anything monumentally stupid.
He changed into his soft, pinstripe pyjamas and curled up on the couch. The worst part was when Garak figured out just how to make him tick. "Dearest, you're so clever…". All the outfits he had promised to make. He had been so kind…
Looking out at his living room and quickly averting his gaze from the large wallscreen, Kukalaka observed him from the table's low vantage point. Julian smiled sadly and dragged himself up. Squeezing his friend and dragging his fingers through the scraggly fur, he returned to his spot but stayed upright, pressing Kukalaka under his chin and drawing up his legs to enclose the small body.
He did not want to be feeling like this for the next two days, even though he could tell the effects were already wearing off. He had his wits about him now; he wasn't in any danger of saying or doing anything disastrous. His cheeks reddened as the memory of being two seconds from stripping in his office.
Yes, he was far past that now. So he could have a mature, perfectly ordinary conversation with his friend, couldn't he? And he could tell Garak what happened, Garak deserved to know.
Julian's emotions soared giddily at the loophole he had found. He looked down at Kukalaka. "I'm going to hate myself for this one, won't I?"
Kukalaka did not judge him, but that beady gaze was obviously telling him to tread carefully.
"Yes, you're right. You're staying right here with me so I don't do anything stupid."
He righted himself and carefully ran a hand through his mussed-up hair. He placed Kukalaka gently at his side and gave him one last, nervous pat.
"Computer, call Garak."
The call connected almost immediately.
"Doctor, did you find out what was afflicting the station?"
Julian stared at Garak a second too long before responding.
"Yes, it was Zanthi Fever, caused by the Betazoid Ambassador, Lwaxana Troi. Once we figured that out, it was easily cured."
Garak smiled one of his honest smiles. "That's wonderful, I'm glad you got it sorted out. You were quite the handful, you know."
Julian flushed. "Ah. Um. I'm… still infected." His words leapt over each other as he tried to get them all out at once. "There isn't a cure for the people affected, Ambassador Troi just won't be able to pass it on to anyone else. But I'll be back to normal in a day or two. And I won't act like I did earlier! Zanthi Fever has a very sharp initial spike but calms down after the first couple hours. I'm in control."
"I see."
Julian should have known this was a bad idea. Garak's face had gone sour and he was going to hang up and Julian couldn't blame him. His friend had been extraordinarily kind when Julian couldn't help himself, but he was under no obligation to do the same now.
"I'm sorry, calling you was not one of my brightest ideas. I just wanted to see you, talk to you. As friends. I missed you during our last lunch."
Julian stared at the flattened image of his friend, weighing his words from lightyears away. He braced himself for the apologetic tone and a night of staring at a dark screen.
"Well. I do enjoy our talks."
Julian's heart skipped a beat.
"Thank you," he stuttered out.
"It's no trouble, Doctor. Would you like to hear about the outpost I am on? There's nothing quite like haggling prices with a Ferengi merchant."
Garak's detailed overview of his week washed over him and Julian slowly sank back into the couch, calm and content.
"And what do you have there?"
He realized with a blush that he had unconsciously moved Kukalaka in his lap, rubbing the ears between his fingers. He was normally quite embarrassed by his most prized possession, but Garak's expression was inquisitive and kind.
"This is Kukalaka," he said, lifting the bear in question up so Garak could have a better view.
"It's a stuffed animal, correct?"
"Yes, a toy teddy bear. He's my oldest friend." Julian gave Kukalaka a quick squeeze.
"He seems like a very fine companion."
Julian smiled down fondly at the tattered toy. "He is."
The conversation moved on to the next book Garak had picked for them. It was going to be another Enigma tale, but one of the newer ones. Garak admitted it was a bit populist, but found it had a few redeeming qualities. Julian giggled at the confession.
"So what gaa-aaaames do Cardassians play?" Julian asked, poorly stifling a yawn behind his fist.
"If you're referring to sports, we have quite a few. There's one that is somewhat similar to racquetball, although it is played with three balls."
Julian nodded, pressing his back into the sofa and letting his eyes flutter closed for a second. "Mm, what games do you like?"
"Strategy games will always be my favorite. I would say Kotra is quite a fun challenge if you have a good opponent. We could play it some time, although teaching you the rules might take a few lunches."
***
Garak began to explain the main pieces and possible actions of the board game, but most of his attention was focused on Julian's sleepy, acknowledging hums and the way he ever so slowly began to slouch to the side. He had just gotten through the possible ways a skilled player could turn a retreating move to their advantage when Julian made it against the arm of the sofa and promptly pulled his lanky frame into a loose ball, teddy bear clutched protectively in the middle. Garak smiled fondly.
He would have very much liked to drape a blanket over the wiry frame.
Hmm…
"Computer, lights out."
Julian's quarters turned to darkness while his slowly breathing outline lit up from the screen's dim glow. Pleased with himself, he filled his gaze of his peaceful friend for a few quiet minutes. Finally, he cut the subspace connection.
He stood up and stretched, the minimalist chair having done terrible things to his back.
As much as the late-night conversation was gratifying, he really did not want to do it again. The doctor had been truthful about keeping their breadth of conversations in the realm of friendly lunchtime banter, but the ever-present starry-eyed gaze of his friend was just a bit too affectionate for comfort. It was much too easy for his traitorous mind to believe what he was seeing, even when he knew full-well that it was all an alien-induced fever. The dear doctor would not want him taking pleasure in such a distasteful violation of his autonomy.
Thankfully, the next two days were devoid of subspace calls from amorous doctors, but he tried not to be too disappointed on the third when Bashir was not there for his return to the station. Garak sighed and hiked his bag up higher. The man was allowed to want to avoid him. Garak understood.
***
Julian did the right thing not going to greet Garak, right? He was back to normal, had been since he had woken up after the first night, really, but that didn't mean the two of them would be forgetting his actions any time soon.
Three more days passed and Julian had yet to seek Garak out; he kept finding tasks and projects to get caught up in and suddenly it was obviously too late to drop in for a visit. Garak hadn't sought him out either, so it was probably fine. He would just shove the memory of this last week into a deep corner of his mind and forget it ever happened.
Lying in bed after the fourth day of avoidance, his thoughts took a turn for the worse. What if Garak hated him now? Or was disgusted and super uncomfortable and would prefer to never see Julian again? Were Cardassians homophobic, was that a thing? No, he didn't think so, he was just being paranoid.
But what if he had just ruined his closest friendship? Miles was more friendly than tolerating these days, but he couldn't bear to lose Garak. This was why you shouldn't fall for your friends. Because an alien fever would reveal your feelings and then they'd hate your forever.
He tossed around, sheet tangling around him. He jerked out of its hold, repositioned it, and then felt around for Kukalaka. It had felt good to sleep with the bear in his arms when he had fallen asleep on the sofa. No one needed to know if he picked up the habit again.
"What do I do, huh?" He asked the bear with a whisper. His friend did not answer.
Julian sighed. The next day would be the eve of their next lunch. That is, if Garak ever wanted to have lunch with him again. Therefore, he would go over to Garak's and make amends. This was his fault, and so it was duty to make it right and offer a real apology.
Half a day-cycle later, he said his goodbyes to his staff and boarded the turbolift with steely determination.
***
"It's Julian," Doctor Bashir called through the door after the chime.
Garak tensed for a second, then pushed himself off his sofa, setting his PADD on the side table and clasping his hands behind his back. "Enter."
The doctor stepped forward as the door hissed open. They stared at each other from across the divide.
"Doctor."
"Garak. Hi. Are you free to talk a bit?"
"Of course. Would you like something to eat or drink?"
"Maybe some Tarkalean tea."
Garak nodded and turned his focus to the task at hand.
He sat the replicated mugs on opposing sides of the small dining table. He looked over meaningfully at the doctor still hovering in the doorway.
Bashir finally came to life and walked over in measured steps. Garak keeping his posture stiff and proper as he sat down while the doctor crossed one leg over the other almost immediately, bouncing it slightly.
"I'm sorry," Bashir mumbled into his drink after a small sip.
"I accept your apology," Garak said with as much kindness and honesty as he could muster. "It must have been quite mortifying for you."
The tea in Bashir's mug sloshed as he agreed emphatically. "Yes! And I'm even sorrier if I made you uncomfortable. I mean, I was insatiable!" He gave a strangled laugh.
"It wasn't your fault, you had no control over yourself," Garak chided, taking a dainty sip of tea.
"I'm just glad you were ten lightyears away. I would never forgive myself if I had thrown myself at you."
Garak steadfastly did not express the heat that cut through him at that mental image. Instead, he hovered his mug just below his lips and smiled politely over the rim.
"Yes, much better. The idea of you throwing yourself at someone like me. Mortifying indeed."
Bashir swallowed down a gulp of tea in a way that looked quite painful, if the slightly watering eyes were any indication.
"No, that's not what I meant," he said, voice gruff as his throat cleared. "I meant every word I said."
Garak very nearly choked himself, covering it up with another, longer, sip of tea. He waited for the doctor to backtrack and correct himself.
"I'm sorry if I don't believe that," Garak finally said as the doctor just continued to stare at him with those full, honest eyes. A paranoid thought crossed his mind. "Are you sure you're completely cured?"
"Of course I am, It's been a full week," the doctor explained as if it were as obvious as the suns and moons. He continued with a stiffer, more determined tone. "I am completely in my right mind to be telling you this. What I said while under the Fever was completely embarrassing and not at all how I would have liked this to come out, but I can't change that."
No. This type of thing just doesn't happen.
"Perhaps the virus scrambled your brain more than you thought," Garak said coolly.
Bashir slammed down his empty mug. "No, it didn't. Don't try to dismiss my feelings."
Oh. The mug rattled itself to a stop on the saucer.
Bashir finally seemed to realize just what he was saying, shrinking in on himself and looking toward his own hands. His nails made small clinks against the glass mug.
"Yes. So. Great. I'm sorry if that made this worse. I just… can we still have our lunches together?"
Garak really didn't know what to say. The doctor was truly confessing feelings for him? After everything he knew about Garak? In spite of what the doctor knew he was capable of? Even when Julian truly could have anyone on the station if he applied himself.
And here Garak was, trying to convince him otherwise. The doctor still sat there huddled up, as if expecting to be scolded and thrown out. It may not have been a wise decision on the doctor's part, but it was his decision to make.
Garak reached his hand over the table to cover one of Bashir's.
"Of course we can still have our lunches."
Bashir raised his head up and his eyes filled with relief. "Oh god, thank you so much! I promise I'll never bring this up again if that's what you want."
"And… if that isn't what I want?"
Garak delighted in the doctor's pink lips popping open in the smallest circle of surprise.
***
"I'm sorry that I disregarded your feelings. I was under the assumption that the virus made you feel things you did not mean. But if the feelings are yours, then I wholeheartedly reciprocate."
This couldn't be happening. He wasn't this lucky. But Garak was smiling and his hand still covered Julian's own. He needed to say something, but all he could manage was a puff of wonderment.
Warmth curled around his heart and he leaned in closer, eyes darting occasionally to meet Garak's gaze, just to make sure they were still on the same page. Those eyes really were quite beautiful, seemingly brighter in the dim light of the Cardassian's quarters.
He finally found his voice.
"All the things I said to you," Julian said in a low, ardent tone. "I meant them. You mean so much to me, Garak."
"And you mean quite a lot to me."
Garak covered the last of the distance across the narrow table.
The feel of Garak's lips on his was astounding. Soft and cold but heating up almost immediately under their combined ministrations. He went to lean in even closer, but the hard metal table had other ideas. "Mmm, couch?" he squeezed between one kiss and the next.
"My dear, that is a lovely idea," Garak whispered against his lips.
Julian sprang up and grabbed Garak's arm, laughing gleefully as he yanked him the short distance to the sofa. He got his comeuppance a second later, Garak descending on top of him and easily pinning down his small frame. Julian had no complains. In fact, he enthusiastically approved.
Garak's lips were back on his and Julian dug his hands into smooth, ink-black hair. Oh, he wanted to see it looking less-than-perfect for once. A scaled hand traveled up and down Julian's side and their lips became slick with spit.
Julian sighed in bliss, tilting his head up and breathing heavily as they finally came up for air.
Garak kissed along his neck a few times, but his mouth soon slowed. When Julian peeked an eye open, the indulgent expression on Garak's face had his heart racing all over again. Glancing up higher, he saw messy strands of hair sticking up every which-way. Julian smirked.
"Come here."
Garak huffed but scooted down to rest his head against Julian's sternum. Slowly and methodically, Julian sifted a hand through the strands, scraping lightly against Garak's head as he tugged out the knots and flattened it back to its usual perfection.
The motion was wonderfully repetitive and the body on top of him was heavy and warm.
He closed his eyes and felt his mouth turn up in a calm smile. They'd have to get up eventually, but for now, he was content.
***
Garak's breath was steady and his eyes were closed to content slits. The doctor's hand was blissful and his body had warmed Garak up with the heat of a rampant wildfire.
The thump of Julian's heart was much faster than his own, racing away to maintain his endothermic nature.
He idly wondered how many warm nights they could have, just like this.
Hmm. As many as possible, if he had any say.