Work Text:
dr Bashir
translated from Standard
>sorry but I won’t be at the replimat for lunch today and in general
>we had a small accident at work
>nothing serious just a transporter malfunction
>but unfortunately I got caught in it and shouldn’t leave my quarters for now.
Garak saw the words “accident at work” and immediately started closing up shop. He read the rest of the messages while heading to the living quarters. Only in the elevator did he reply:
You
chosen language: Cardassian
>What happened?dr Bashir
translated from Standard
>it would be best if I showed you
>IMG00001809.png
Garak stepped out of the elevator and opened the photo. He stopped dead in his tracks in the middle of the hallway when he saw… He had no doubt he was looking at a photo of doctor Bashir. His facial features and embarrassed smile were the same. Everything else had changed.
This was no longer doctor Bashir, the Earthman; no, now doctor Bashir had gray scales, Cardassian ridges on his neck and face, a ring on his forehead, and in the corner of the photo, Garak even glimpsed a Cardassian tail.
Garak thought the doctor was a truly, truly handsome Earthman. From the very beginning, he knew he’d be kicking himself if he didn’t talk to him, if he didn’t see if something came of it (even if that “something” turned out to be a one-night stand – at the very beginning of their relationship, Garak would have accepted such a development without batting an eye. It wasn’t until the doctor saved him from the implant that Garak realized he’d fallen in love and he hadn’t even noticed how it started. After that, he knew he wanted Bashir for the long haul, not just for one night).
Now Bashir looked killer as a Cardassian. Garak found himself staring at his picture for several minutes, standing in the middle of the hallway. He was lucky no one had caught him doing so (and hoped Odo wouldn’t took notice at the surveillance footage).
He forced himself to lower the PADD and calm his tail – mostly his tail. Garak hadn’t been this agitated in a long time and he didn’t want everyone who could read interest on a Cardassian to be able to see it so plainly how much Garak appreciated Bashir’s new appearance.
He took a deep breath, lifted his chin, and with a slight smile, continued to the doctor’s quarters. Only his fist remained clenched around the PADD.
When he knocked and confirmed it was him, the door opened, but the doctor wasn’t there. Taking this as an invitation, Garak stepped inside. He immediately felt the difference; even when Garak had visited Bashir before, the temperature had never been this high. Additionally, the lighting was also at the optimal level for Cardassian eyes.
“Doctor?” Garak asked, peering into the living room.
He froze when he saw Bashir situated on his couch (which was probably very uncomfortable for him now, judging by Garak’s own previous experiences, but also by the way crooked way the doctor was sitting), wrapped in a blanket, but… not entirely. Garak swallowed. He couldn’t see Bashir’s ridges, but he could see the second ring between his collarbones.
It was devastating how the doctor’s tail jerked upwards when its owner noticed Garak.
“You didn’t have to come,” Bashir said. “I could have handled it.”
Garak needed a moment to compose himself so he went to the replicator and began entering instructions for the doctor’s attire.
In the picture, Bashir was wearing his uniform, unbuttoned, which he had since already removed – which wasn’t surprising. Garak knew perfectly well that human Starfleet fabric wasn’t kind to scales. Now, Bashir’s tail was no longer just a curiosity glimpsed out of the corner of his eye, but a real limb which movements Garak could read – but the doctor clearly couldn’t. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have flaunted his feelings with it.
Garak wasn’t an expert on Earthlings. He knew more than a random Cardassian but he was never entirely convinced he was reading Bashir’s behavior correctly. While he thought the doctor showed interest in Garak, he was still looking for female partners and never made even the slightest of direct moves. The Cardassian appreciated this kind of circling around the subject… but the fact that Bashir continued to seek out fun with others made Garak disregard certain insinuations doctor made.
He wouldn’t immediately call himself an expert on Cardassians but he was of that race and had instinctively known from childhood that a tail could express more than its owner did. And Bashir’s tail? It exposed the doctor’s feelings even more than the proverbial heart on his sleeve, which Bashir never hid.
He turned with his armful of clothes, his gaze returning to the doctor’s new limb, which twitched again when the Cardassian looked at it. He had to take a breath when, after a moment, the center of the tail rose, and the tip began to form circles as if restless.
As if Bashir were showing Garak he was interested. In Hebitian times, this would have been a blatant display of interest in front of everyone (and a threat to anyone else interested) and an open invitation to bed. If Bashir’s ridges and rings had turned blue, Garak would have lost his mind, but as it was, he only felt his own scales taking on color.
“This should fit you,” he announced to dispel the thoughts. He walked over to the doctor (so close to the temptation...) and handed him the clothes.
Bashir eyed them warily.
“I had to get rid of my uniform and it was also from a replicator...”
“Trust me, my dear doctor, I know what materials are suitable for Cardassian scales.”
“Of course,” Bashir gave him a wide, embarrassed smile. He reached for the clothes, causing the blanket to fall from his shoulders.
Garak inhaled sharply at the sight of the perfect Cardassian silhouette, but fortunately (unfortunately?) he saw nothing below the doctor’s belly, because he quickly covered himself again.
“I’ll put this here,” Garak said calmly, taking a step closer to the couch. He set the materials down and didn’t have time to straighten up before Bashir’s tail wrapped itself around his wrist. “Doctor...” he said quietly.
“I’m sorry!” Bashir yelled immediately but didn’t let go. On the contrary, his tail slid up Garak’s forearm, exposing it slightly. Panicked, the doctor reached for it and unwrapped the limb. “I’m sorry,” he added as their palms brushed against each other. “I don’t...” He trailed off.
He stared intently at Garak, who had managed to straighten up, but was unable to move away from this phenomenal specimen. His tail also began to circle, though not just the tip, but the entire length – a positive response to the earlier proposition; not that the doctor could read it. However, judging by the way he studied the ring and ridges on the Cardassian’s neck, blue pigment was beginning to appear.
“Forgive me, my dear,” Garak continued, trying to relax. It didn’t work. “If you have any more problems, I’ll try to help, but for now, I think I can leave you…”
“No,” Bashir interjected.
He stood up quickly, this time not grabbing the blanket and letting it fall to the ground. Garak couldn’t help but look.
As he’d expected, the doctor was wearing nothing.
Garak’s tail flicked out and began to rub against Bashir’s. Its owner watched for a moment, then frowned and began to deliberately return the caress. When he looked back at Garak, a melancholic smile played across his face.
“I somewhat regret that, in order to be the object of your desire, I had to change so much,” he said.
Garak didn’t know whether to bite him or kiss him. He snorted.
“You stand before me naked, Cardassian, but still you, my dear. How can I not desire you?”
“I am?” Bashir asked, placing his hands on Garak’s chest and moving them slightly up and down.
“Are you…?” the Cardassian asked, breathing harder. He grabbed the doctor’s elbows, then wrapped his arms around his waist as Bashir moved closer.
“Am I yours? Your dear?” Julian nuzzled the ridges by Garak’s ears.
A soft growl escaped the Cardassian as he tightened his grip on the doctor’s narrow hips.
“Be sure...” he began, but had to swallow when Julian began kissing the ridges on his neck. “Be sure you want to be.”
The doctor laughed softly and began unbuttoning Garak’s tunic.
“I am. I am sure. Since this is the only way I can have you—”
Garak pushed him onto the couch – on purpose, knowing full well that Julian would land uncomfortably on his tail. He didn’t give him much time to adjust his position, though, because he climbed onto his lap, straddling his thighs.
“You’re the one who’s been pursuing everyone else but me,” he hissed, gripping Julian’s hair and tilting his head back. He leaned down and spoke over the ring on the doctor’s chest, blowing warm air over him. “I don’t want to be just another person you ‘scored,’ my dear, but if that’s where you want to start, then go ahead.” He licked his ring.
He pulled away, watching in delight as the blue pigment finally appeared on Julian’s scales. Now they were equal. Now he could—
Julian grabbed him by the hips and threw him aside; Garak landed on his back on the couch. The Doctor leaned over him, a strangely alluring madness in his eyes.
“I don’t want to ‘start’ with you,” Julian muttered. He sat back on his heels and began to undress Garak hastily. “I want to end with you.” He laughed, running his hands over the Cardassian’s exposed torso. “I want you to destroy me for others. I want to be your last.” He leaned forward to say the next, blasphemous words directly to Garak’s face: “I want to be your Cardassia in exile. I want to be the reason that returning to the right one will be impossible for you… without me.”
Garak sat up, slowly enough for Julian to pull away. He did, but unhurriedly too, so their foreheads touched. They both groaned as their rings brushed against each other. Eyes closed, still trying to hold on, they struggled with Garak’s clothes. When Julian ripped off his pants and underwear, the Cardassian used his legs to pull the doctor down to the ground so he was kneeling between his spread thighs.
“Such a pretty face, and it says such nasty things,” he said and then grunted as Julian began to run his hands over his skin, from knees to hips. He stared between Garak’s legs and licked his lips. “Show me what else that mouth can do,” the Cardassian encouraged. When Julian unexpectedly didn’t start with Garak’s cloaca, but with his lowest ring, the Cardassian knew he was lost. “I’ll keep you. You’ll be mine,” he hissed, as if he’d just made up his mind.
He felt Julian chuckle under his breath – the tip of his nose still brushed against the ring.
“Even when I’m no longer so Cardassianly attractive?” the doctor asked lightly but Garak could see his tail was anxiously still.
He reached out and placed his hand on Julian’s temple, so that his thumb could stroke the ring on his forehead. The doctor’s reaction was immediate; he groaned, all the tension draining from him as if lifted by someone’s hand – literally – and then began to kiss and lick Garak’s slit eagerly.
“Ah, yes,” the Cardassian sighed. “Mm. That just means I’ll have to, ah, learn how to touch you when you return to your proper body.” Garak’s erection emerged beside Julian’s lips, but he didn’t pull them away from the Cardassian’s skin. He stared at him, breathing heavily, smiling; his whole body moved as if he wanted more, yet at the same time, he didn’t want to pull away from Garak’s hand.
“All I had to do was touch your ring and you’d be mine?” the doctor asked, subtly alluding to the reverse situation at that moment.
“Ah, my dear.” Garak thrust his hips toward him; the doctor understood and took his penis into his mouth. “I was yours from the start.”