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It wasn't until they were back to the station that Julian's feelings fully began to settle in.
The culmination of days of wondering, of stress, of a bottomless feeling in his gut that he couldn't quite name. It had started with the explosion in the tailor's shop, Julian's concern for Garak's safety, then frustration with his obvious lies even as everyone was attempting to protect him. That had only been compounded when he found out that Garak had unceremoniously snuck off with Constable Odo on his investigation without a single word. It was understandable enough when Garak would suddenly change or cancel plans with little to no notice, and to be fair Julian didn't really mind when he would drop by unannounced for a quick shag, but it was entirely different to run off on a dangerous mission without telling someone… well at least someone who you were… close to.
Well, were they even close? Julian had been first to head straight to the Defiant when Commander Sisko announced their unsanctioned rescue mission. He trusted his commander, would follow him anywhere, but that wasn't the only reason he'd been willing to risk so much. He cared -he had to admit- really cared for Garak a great deal more than he had ever said out loud. More than as friends and debate partners, and more than as the casual bed companions dynamic they had stumbled (Julian more so than Garak) into. That's why he had jumped immediately to volunteer, without any second guessing. Despite his recent revelations, what did he have to show for it? What sign was there of any requited feelings beyond what Garak hinted at in tiny gestures and glances that he would never allow to be clear? Was he actually close enough to Garak to be owed any kind of word before flying off into unknown dangers?
In the midst of Julian's own internal debates, they found Gark and Odo. The two had beamed aboard in the midst of a battle, off of a crumbling Romulan ship. The first thing Julian saw was Garak's face, looking like it had taken what might have been a brick straight to the orbital socket.
"It saved my life."
A cryptic explanation. Another in a long line of them. There he was, in the midst of heroically rushing in to save Garak, to tend his wounds, and even then Julian couldn't get a straight answer out of him. Just what had happened in the first place to make Garak act so rashly, and why was a black eye the apparent resolution to that scenario? Of course, in the moment Julian had been too busy, too focused on the battle and treating the wounded, that he hadn't had the luxury of sitting with the thought and turning it around in his mind like a puzzle to sort out.
But now they were back. The Defiant was docked. The wounds were all treated. And no one was talking.
Julian had watched Garak return to the burnt husk of his shop, and as he had been deliberating whether or not to approach, he lost his opportunity to Odo. Odo stood just in the doorway, sparking some quiet private conversation with Garak, who remained hidden somewhere in the dark remains of the shop. Too conscientious of privacy to pay heed to the lure of eavesdropping, Julian turned the other way and left for his own rooms, his thoughts and feelings left a jumble.
He wanted to know. He wanted to know what had happened, what had started all this, what had happened between Tain and Garak, between Tain and Odo, how Garak had been injured, just… everything. And even days later, Garak had given him nothing. He'd had opportunities to answer Julian's gentle prompts, to respond to his requests for lunch. Was he just supposed to let yet another Garak mystery hang in the air? One so infuriatingly dangerous?
No. That was not how this was going to play out. Not this time. Garak wasn't going to give his riddles or play his games this time. Julian had been eaten up with concern and dread and fear and Garak was going to know it and then he was going to give Julian a straight forward and honest answer for once.
Julian's thoughts swirled and expanded as he made his way out of his own quarters and through the habitat ring, the frustration growing, morphing into an anger that was most unlike him. He was amping himself up unnecessarily, some quiet voice of reason inside told him, but he didn't care. It felt good to let those feelings grow and burn. Older gripes built on them, adding fuel to the fire, things he had been certain he'd gotten over already but found they still had life in them to smolder. By the time he reached Garak's door he had come up with several particularly cutting lines he intended to make use of, and could feel the heat rising in his face. He rang the door chime, and waited an impatiently short time before he rang it again. Just as he was about to press it a third especially aggressive time, the door slid open.
"Ah, my dear doctor, I'm afraid-"
"Now see here, Garak," Julian cut him off, pushing into Garak's space, using his height to loom over the other man as the door to slid shut behind him, "I've had enough of your schemes and your lies, you act as though-"
"I apologize if I've ups-"
"Yes! You apologize! You apologize, and then never actually explain what the devil went on in the first place or do anything about it," he continued to push, and felt a primal satisfaction as Garak took another step back, moving him further toward the center of Garak's living room. "Can't risk showing a single ounce of actual consideration for the trouble you put others through though, can you?"
Even in the dimmer light of his quarters, Garak's bright blue eyes stood out, wide with confusion, the gears and cogs behind them spinning rapidly and clearly. Julian had never seen him look so flustered, so off-balance, the way his jaw went just the slightest bit slack, lips parted, as though scenting the air for danger. It was immensely satisfying. Julian wanted to punch him, give him another shiner to patch up. Or maybe kiss him, take advantage of this moment of vulnerability to catch him off guard, but Julian's own mouth was too busy running as he pushed for more reaction.
"-so intelligent, and yet you think it's a good idea to run off with no backup, no warning to anyone, just you and Odo in a runabout off to the Gamma quadrant!? Then we had to chase after you because you'd gotten mixed up with Tain?!"
"Doctor, there were extenuating circumstances, I couldn't-"
"You could have! If you had just been honest or straight forward with anyone for once! Don't you realize how worried I was-" Julian noticed a shift. Tiny, almost imperceptible, but enough to realize he'd played his hand too early. He watched as Garak's lips met, closed again the way they did when he had come to a satisfactory conclusion, or given a particularly good rebuttal. Julian's anger heightened all the more. Garak didn't get to just decide that he'd figured it all out.
Garak's hand reached out, alighted softly on his upper arm, "Julian-"
"No! No, don't you start, Elim, I don't want to hear your latest fabrication, I want to know the truth. I want to know what was so bloody important that you couldn't even tell me what was happening, after everything I've done for you, after everything I already know," he attempted to shrug Garak's hand off his arm, but the grip tightened and Garak leaned in closer, no longer backing away from Julian's towering force. Julian poked his finger in Garak's chest, painfully close to his chula. It was very much on purpose. Just close enough to elicit what he hoped would be a harsh response without seeming too targeted.
Garak blinked hard, but didn't flinch, didn't back away, merely brought up his other hand and set it upon Julian's hip.
"You're right."
Julian froze, breathing heavier than he had realized, stunned and still furious, but Garak was looking up at him with an expression he had a hard time reading and the puzzle of it gave him pause. Cardassian faces in general were not quite as expressive as humans', but he could at least read the twinge of penitence in the corners of his lips, the sympathy in the arc of his brow ridges. Yet there was something in the eyes. Something anachronistic in those piercing blues that made him grit his teeth and furrow his brow in response.
"Right about what exactly? That you're thoughtless? That you're a liar even in the face of someone trying to help you? That you don't seem to care at all for how your veiled actions impact others?"
"All of it, you're right about all of it, my dear," and Garak leaned in to kiss him.
Julian had never experienced this before. He'd never felt the rush of a good kiss, combined with the twisted belly feeling of anger. It left him on unsteady footing, his hand at first pressing flat to Garak's chest to push him away, but then on second thought bunching up in his tunic and pulling him even closer, taking control of the kiss.
In all honesty, before the anger had swelled to fill every spare space for thought Julian had in his brain, he'd just been worried. He'd wanted to go to Garak, to check on him, to be near him, to reassure himself of Garak's presence and safety. He wanted this kiss, but something in him wouldn't let that anger go yet and so he held Garak like a threat, kissed him hard and bruising.
Garak took it. He held Julian softly, moved to wrap his arms around his waist, kissed him gently and pliantly, and did not match Julian's intensity. For his part, Julian was all tension, one hand still holding Garak's tunic in a vice grip, while the other had made a wide arc to encompass the Cardassian's shoulders. He bit at Garak's lips, growled against them, and parted his own lips to press his tongue into Garak's mouth. Garak was cool inside, just a little below human body temperature, and he thought to himself that he hoped he might scald Garak with the heat of his anger.
Julian was the first to pull away, breathing heavy, scowling, "You should have just said something!" Garak kissed him again, "At least to me!"
"I should have. You're right, Julian," said Garak in a quiet voice, his breath ghosting over Julian's lips, while one hand trailed up his spine and the other down to cup the curve of his ass hidden just beneath the jumpsuit. "I was in such a hurry, I didn't even think to say something, but I should have. I've done you a discourtesy."
What was this? Julian's body clashed, two distinct urges now burning inside of him. He wanted this connection, this reassurance of safety and affection, this pleasure, this apology, but the anger simply would not dissipate. With a huff he grasped a fistful of Garak's hair, that sleek, stupid, tidy hair, he wanted to mess it up, he wanted to see it in knots. He wanted to caress it, he wanted to brush his nails against the spots on his scalp that Garak liked, and feel the silky strands between his fingers.
"You never do! You never think beyond your own plans, so focused on the big picture you don't even care what's happening now." He moved Garak's head to kiss him again, and Garak did not resist. He allowed Julian to guide his head like a doll, not retreating from the aggressive kiss, while his hands moved along Julian's backside, caressing and squeezing as though nothing were the matter. He pulled at Julian gently, slowly guiding him back towards his bedroom, while Julian made a show of controlling their kiss. As they reached the bed one of Garak's hands snaked to the front of Julian's body, fingers splaying across his chest to brush the hard peak of a nipple under his uniform. Julian shivered involuntarily. Then slowly Garak's hand moved downward, taking his time to caress the curve of his waist and the flat plane of his stomach before finally reach center, to palm Julian's already half-hard cock.
Julian couldn't help it, he moaned. He broke the kiss, his grip loosening on Garak's hair, as his stomach fluttered with the contact. Garak took advantage of the freedom of his head to lean in and kiss just under Julian's ear, above his collar.
"I should have thought of you," Garak said between kisses. Slowly he turned both of them, placing the back of Julian's legs against his bed as his hand continued it's gentle ministrations, rubbing and squeezing, working him up to full mast. "Forgive me, my dear." Garak's other hand came to the front now as well, now that he had him in place, and clever fingers found the hidden closure and zipper pull of Julian's uniform.
"Useless without you telling me what happened, or promising you wont run off again," Julian groaned and let go of Garak only to push his hand out of the way and tug down the zipper so hard it nearly tore. Garak's hands lifted, giving Julian space to shrug himself out of his jumpsuit. He let it drop around his ankles with a purposeful lack of care, leaving him in his black briefs and lavender turtleneck. Garak then put one hand upon his back, the other upon his chest, and pushed Julian slowly onto the bed till he was sitting. He followed the motion downward, kneeling on the floor before him and sliding his hands down Julian's beautiful frame to rest on his thighs. Garak touched him almost reverently, and Julian felt the angry pit in him melt a little under those hands.
"I will, I'll tell you everything," he paused a moment, looking up at Julian, "everything that is mine to tell." Julian's scrunched his brow and nose, opened his mouth to ask what exactly that was supposed to mean when Garak cut him off, holding a hand up, "I owe Odo that much."
Julian bit back his response, placing his hands on the bed and leaning back, while Garak rewarded his quiet acquiescence with a smile. He leaned in, kissing downward along Julian's stomach, while his hands caressed upwards, reached the elastic waist band and pulled down. The customary teasing that drove Julian insane was conspicuously absent. 'Good', he thought, he was in no mood for Garak's usual games, he deserved to enjoy this after what the damned lizard had put him through.
"I'll give you what you want, though," Garak whispered against his skin, as his kisses moved lower, past the trimmed patch of curled hair and finally to the base of Julian's now straining cock.
Julian breathed in deep and sharp through his nose, nostrils flaring, mouth salivating. He swallowed hard, willing himself not to moan again or display his pleasure too obviously. For some reason that was beginning to elude him, he still wanted to be mad, even as he felt the emotion slipping through his fingers. "What I need…ah- is answers, and you won't distract me with this, you know."
Garak's kisses had lead to the end of their road, he smiled up at Julian and said, "It's no distraction, this is one of the answers," and with that Garak took him into his mouth.
Not as warm as a human mouth, true, but warm still and marvelously soft. And skilled. Oh so skilled, and Garak was on full display of his talents, using every sensitive spot and moan-inducing tongue technique that he had catalogued in their many trysts. Julian gasped and closed his eyes, letting his head tilt back. Stars, it was good, so good, impossibly good. Garak had never displayed this particular talent so overtly before and it was nearly overwhelming, even for someone of Julian's stamina and control.
He had to admit, it was a damn good distraction no matter what Garak claimed. He bit his lip and spread his legs as Garak caressed his inner thighs, while his mouth kept it's perfect rhythm. One hand disappeared for a moment with a rustling of fabric, only to return slick and seeking in the cleft of Julian's ass. Julian let out a sigh of relief, the momentary additional stimulation uncoiling the tension growing in his belly.
Garak's finger found its mark and began to rub in circles, spreading his own slick across Julian's entrance and prodding gently as it tightened in response. He was soft, but not teasingly so, and not so fast either as to be overstimulating. Either of these options would have prolonged Julian's pleasure through denial, which was the usual way their encounters began, but instead Garak was finding that perfect balance in the middle. As though every movement was calculated to check every possible box of Julian's pleasure. Suddenly Julian wasn't so sure he actually wanted what he always said he wanted.
Julian tried to grind, to shift, to drive those fingers deeper or throw off Garak's rhythm, but Garak's other hand clasped his thigh hard and kept him in place. Julian whimpered in response before he could stop himself, and felt a small flare of that dwindling anger in response to his own weakness. Garak for his part rewarded him for the sound, his finger slipped fully inside Julian and slowly pushed all the way up to the last knuckle.
Julian purposefully morphed his moan to a growl, but his hands still clutched the bedsheets with all their might, evidence of his restraint. A few probing thrusts and Garak added another finger, scissoring them as he slowly moved them in and out. By the time Garak pushed in a third Julian was gasping and breathing shallow through his nose, legs spread as wide as he could manage. Garak was so careful in stretching him, and the very thought of what was coming, combined with Garak's persistent mouth, had him precariously on the edge of climax.
Seemingly satisfied, Garak pulled away his fingers and mouth simultaneously, leaving Julian both empty and cold. He grit his teeth and glowered down at Garak, who merely responded with his enigmatic smile. A touch of apology added to the tension of his brow ridges, but Julian could not suss out it's sincerity. In a fluid motion, Garak grasped the backs of Julian's thighs, lifted his legs, and pushed him further up on to the bed.
Garak climbed atop him, pausing only long enough to pull off his tunic and slip out of his trousers, letting them fall on the floor behind him with uncharacteristic abandon. He had already everted at some point while on his knees, and based on the way his prUt dripped onto the sheets, he was far more affected than he was allowing to show. Garak on top? Facing him? In the light? No pretense or quips? Julian's breath hitched as he let his arms rest above his head and watched as Garak folded up his legs and settled himself between them.
"Is this supposed to be another of your answers?" He managed to get out, though his voice was softer than he meant for it to be.
"Of course," Garak replied in a conversational tone, even as he began to press the thin tip of his prUt inside of Julian, perfectly stretched and prepped to the point of nearly no resistance. A quiet sound, somewhere between a sigh and a moan, escaped past Garak's gray lips and he let his eyelids droop half-closed. "My dear, I'm always giving you answers, but it seems you're still learning to recognize them."
Julian felt the last ember of his anger fizzle out as Garak's tapered prUt filled him, marvelously and agonizingly slowly. He wanted this. Honestly, more than the answers, more than an apology, he had been wanting this. This connection. This reassurance that there was something more than just a fun romp between them, that he was owed this man's consideration. That he was special to someone, and not for…
Was this what making love with Elim felt like?
He stared up at Garak, his hands rising to grasp the Cardassian's thick, hard-ridged shoulders, and Garak did not look away or close his eyes. Julian felt he could see something more in those blue eyes, something warm despite their cool color.
Fuck.
Garak had cornered him in the game of wits again. He was giving him an answer, if anything this was Garak being as blunt as he ever had been.
Garak moved slowly at first, but as Julian adjusted and gave an encouraging roll of the hips he moved faster, clutching Julian's golden-brown thighs and angling his own motions so that with every firm push he pressed against his prostate. Julian's eyes fluttered shut, his breath coming faster. Garak was fucking him just how it felt best, and the way that Julian knew did nothing but tease Cardassian anatomy, thrusting into sweet warmth only to pull out of it again. Giving Garak's sensitive base only the briefest of pressure and heat, over and over and over. Julian really was getting everything he wanted.
Well, almost everything. He gripped Garak's shoulders harder, holding back his strength, but tight enough to stop his hands from reaching for his aching erection as it bobbed between them with every thrust. It was begging for touch, straining and flushed, but Julian knew as soon as he did he would be finished. It was all too good too fast, almost frightening in its precision, but he was holding out, doing what he could to prolong the experience, to keep Garak like this as long as he could.
Tension knotted Julian's brow, sweat beginning to bead on him between the warmth of the room and the effort of restraint. He tried to focus, on the feeling of the sheets, the sound of slick skin slapping together, the ever-present ambient hum of the station, the slightest sting of Garak's claws digging into his thighs- wait, no, only one thigh. He opened his eyes to find Garak's full attention still on him, mouth slightly open now, and as he watched Garak's tongue flick out to taste the air, he felt a warm slick hand wrap around his cock.
Julian gasped and then groaned, his back arching as Garak's hand began to pump him. Their eyes were locked, and through the haze of pleasure the only thing Julian could see clearly was blue. Everything he wanted. All at once. It was too much. Within a few strokes the tension in him released like a wound spring, and Garak gently squeezed out everything Julian had into a sticky mess across his stomach, which immediately began to soak into his lavender shirt.
Julian released his vice grip on Garak's shoulders and lay there panting as Garak surged forward, folding him in half and pressing his knees towards his chest. Garak's hands clutched the sheets on either side of Julian's shoulders as he took advantage of Julian's relaxed state to bury himself in to the hilt. He ground his irllun into the tight ring of muscles at Julian's entrance and gasped in shaky breaths.
"Julian, my dearest, Julian," Garak whispered, as he finally closed his eyes, allowing himself his pleasure.
As Garak writhed between his legs, Julian moaned softly, spent and hot, but enjoying the almost distant feeling of fullness still inside him. His hands rose up to Garak's chest, sliding along the natural curves and lines of his scales, up to his shoulders, along those ridges, up to his ears, and then down to his cheeks. He held Garak's face and pulled him in closer to kiss him. Deeply, sensually, tongues sliding along each other, lips parting and finding each other again until Garak breathed deep and suddenly stilled. Julian moaned as the heat flooded him, filling him up in a way that made his spent cock twitch with pleasure despite it all.
Garak lay heavy and hunched over on Julian, his chufa flush to Julian's collarbone, getting his breath back under control as his prUt slowly and naturally disengaged itself, leaving Julian with the gentle thrumming ache that followed being well fucked.
After a moment they began to shift, wordlessly. Garak sat up slightly and reached down to grab the hem of Julian's shirt, just as Julian moved to do the same. He chuckled and let Garak handle it, watching as he so carefully folded it in on itself before he lifted it over his head, to prevent from spreading the mess they had made. Garak settled back down as Julian stretched out his long legs, making space for Garak between them, and they found they slotted together with ease. Julian pulled Garak's warm blankets over the both of them and Garak rested his head in the crook of Julian's neck, slipping his hands under his shoulders. While at first Julian could feel that Garak was tensed to keep his full weight off of him, he slowly tested the waters, letting himself sink down until he was sure Julian would not be crushed under his scales.
They lay in silence a moment, Julian resting his hands on Garak's back, allowing them to wander without aim. They'd never done this before. After sex they both generally had something (or found something) to do. To get back to. This was perhaps the most clear answer Garak had ever given him, Julian thought to himself, as his fingertips traced a pattern of scales that ran along the bottom of Garak's shoulder blades. It felt quite lovely actually, grounding or affirming even, to feel Garak's relaxed weight on top of him like this.
To his surprise, it was Garak that finally broke the silence.
"Accurate to your earlier accusations, I indeed didn't tell anyone in advance what I was doing, let alone my reasons why, and just as you so firmly stated it put us in quite some danger. I was, in fact, about to face some far more unpleasant consequences than your stern reprimand for making a similar choice aboard Tain's ship as it was being destroyed," Garak stated, with his more customary air of nonchalance, "Odo was persistent enough to follow me when I told him not to, and good enough to save me from myself, though his aggressive methods did result in the bruised eye. A small price to pay, really."
"Are you saying Odo hit you?" Julian's nose and brow scrunched up in disbelief as he tried to look down at Garak, who now appeared to be far too comfortable to lift his head and meet Julian's eyes.
"Oh yes, but I assure you it really was well deserved."
"I hardly think-…" Julian cut himself off, pursing his lips. No, with what little he did know Garak probably did deserve it. "Is that the part you won't tell me?"
"Yes."
This silence was heavier than the comfortable one before, a void that Julian's prior anger felt the urge to spill into, but he pulled it back. It wasn't about that. It was never about that. Garak could keep his and Odo's secrets if he liked. Julian knew a much better secret now anyway, one that… well, he supposed was his secret now too. He supposed as well that perhaps, getting exactly what you wanted wasn't always the same as getting exactly what you needed. After all Garak's mystery, his obfuscations, his sly knowing smile, his constant half-truths and strange tales, they were all part of his charm, a part of what drew Julian to him in the first place. Garak never gave him the whole picture, but instead lovingly laid out the puzzle pieces for him.
Julian smiled softly unseen and let the tension ease from himself and the room. Garak had shown him what he really needed to know, in his own secretive way: that Julian mattered to him, that he wasn't an after thought, that he-
Julian's warm and fuzzy thoughts screeched to a halt.
Getting exactly what you want isn't always getting what you need.
Or perhaps, alternatively: getting everything you think you want isn't always getting what you really want.
After months of griping about Garak's prolonged sexual teasing had he really…
Son of a bitch.
"Was all that really necessary?!" Julian said suddenly, his voice rising in annoyance. He tried to push himself up, to confront Garak about his audacity to kill two presumptive birds with one orgasm, but found he couldn't. Not without giving his own secret away anyway. No. Garak was pushing himself down, making himself heavy, refusing to let Julian up, or to even lift his head.
Against his neck, Julian felt Garak smile. This was going to make for quite the argument.