Fandom: Star Trek Deep Space 9
Pairing: Julian Bashir/Garak
Summary:“It’s a little game Garak and I like to play with Dukat,” Julian said. He paused. “Well. More like play on Dukat. I call it ‘Federaji rentboy'.”
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Dukat has ruined Kira's morning. Julian and Garak invite her to improve her day by watching them engage in their favorite pasttime: fucking with Dukat's head.
AO3 Link
Kira was not one to drink on duty. It was unprofessional and, should anything unexpected happen, which was almost every day on Deep Space 9, dangerous. Today, however, she was going to make an exception. Today, it was have a drink or a kill someone.
A very specific someone.
“Quark! An Antarian brandy, and make it a doub—” Kira cut off mid-sentence. “Julian, what are you wearing?”
It was surprising enough to see Julian and Garak having lunch in Quark’s bar. Kira was even more surprised to see Julian out of his uniform. She couldn’t remember the last time she saw him out of his uniform. Whenever it had been, he certainly had not been dressed like that.
But here they were, and here Julian was, in a pair of well-fitted cream-colored trousers and a loose top of some almost-shimmering green fabric that clung to his torso every time he moved.
“Hello, Kira! I am in civilian clothing,” Julian said. “It’s my day off and I am no longer allowed to wear my uniform unless required to do so by Starfleet regulations, on pain of being nagged to death.”
“I do not nag,” Garak said mildly, cutting his steak. “I critique.”
“Endlessly.”
Kira fought to keep her face neutral. Cardassians put her on edge; known Obsidian Order operatives (former or otherwise) even more so. Garak was hard not to like, which only increased her unease.
But he made Julian happy, and she – somehow, at some point – had come to care about that. So she kept her mouth shut about it, for all that she knew this relationship would implode the second Garak had to choose between his lover and his empire
Quark appeared and, sensing Kira’s lingering bad mood, set down the drink, took her money, and retreated to a safe distance.
“Rough morning?” Julian asked, sympathetically.
Kira ground her teeth together.
“Anything I can help with?”
“Depends. How good are you at hiding bodies?”
Garak’s expression turned thoughtful; he opened his mouth but before he could speak, Kira’s comm badge beeped.
“Odo to Major Kira.”
The sound of Odo’s voice loosened some of the tension coiling around her spine, though she had a sinking feeling it wouldn’t be for long. She tapped her badge.
“Kira here.”
“Gul Dukat has expressed a desire to get a drink on the promenade.”
And there was the tension, coiling up that much tighter.
“Of course he is. Thanks Odo.” She started to rise. “I’ll take my drink to go.”
Julian put a hand on her arm.
“Wait.” He looked to Garak. “Shall we?”
“Oh, but of course,” Garak said. “I’m surprised you even have to ask.”
“It’s a little game Garak and I like to play with Dukat,” Julian said. He paused. “Well. More like play on Dukat. I call it ‘Federaji rentboy’.”
“You call it what?”
“Really, my dear,” Garak sighed.
“He prefers ‘consort and patron’,” Julian explained. “But it amounts to the same thing.”
He grabbed one of his sleeves and gave it a twitch. The smooth fabric slid down, exposing a slice of collarbone and most of Julian’s shoulder.
“You see?” Garak said. “This is why we don’t wear hideous uniforms if we don’t need to. It’s much easier to pull this off when you’re dressed appropriately.”
“Or inappropriately, as it were.”
“Julian, what are you doing?”
“Come on, Major, you know Cardassians. You know what this looks like to them.”
She did. Showing off neck ridges was a common display. Showing off a collarbone, even a little, was slightly risqué: not exactly an invitation but a statement that one was not averse to a certain kind of attention. But collarbone, neck, and a full shoulder?
‘Rentboy’ was almost an understatement.
A flash of gray out of the corner of her eye made her stiffen.
“Take your drink at the bar,” Garak murmured. “That stool right over there. Don’t look in his direction until he arrives.”
It let her keep her back to a wall and her eyes on the door. It was close enough to converse, but far enough away that she could easily remove herself from the situation without having to excuse herself to anyone.
Kira refused to feel grateful for it.
“Oh, and Kira—” Julian glanced back at her. “Play along, would you?”
Kira sat, picked up her drink, and swiveled around so her back was to the bar. She looked away from the direction where she had spotted Dukat.
“He sees the Major,” Garak said softly into his drink. Kira went rigid.
“Am I bait?” she hissed at him.
“Sh!” Julian hissed back without looking up. He leaned slightly, not obviously, but enough to cause a little tension in his neck, emphasizing the long line of his throat.
“He’s approaching…and now he has spotted us.” Garak settled back in his seat and looked more obviously out across the bar. Barely moving his lips, he said “He has seen that I see him…oh very nice.”
“What’s he doing?”
“Trying to decide if he is going to pretend he doesn’t see me.”
“Really,” Julian breathed. “My god, we’re are getting to him.”
“And now…yyyes, his ego has decided he cannot bare to avoid us and he is approaching.”
“I just don’t see why there can’t be a single story where someone gives all to the state and doesn’t suffer horribly for it!” Julian said, suddenly heated.
“My dear doctor, what precisely do you think the definition of sacrifice is?”
“Isn’t someone supposed to benefit from the state? I mean, that is the point of a government, to provide support for its people?”
“Your arguments are growing rather circular—Ah! Gul Dukat, what a pleasure to see you!”
“Garak. Doctor Bashir.”
Julian gave him a languid smile.
“Major,” Dukat said. His annoyance over Garak was apparently almost enough to drive away the slimy undertone his voice got when he spoke to her.
Almost.
“Dukat,” she said coldly, trying to keep her grip from tightening too hard around her drink. The last thing she wanted was to spend time in the infirmary getting broken glass picked out of her hand.
“I am surprised to see you joining these two for their…meal.”
“I am having nothing to do with this conversation,” she said blithely. “I have less than no interest in Cardassian literature.”
“Can’t imagine why,” Julian drawled.
Dukat’s lips curled into an obsequious smile. He was going to say it and Kira was going to kill him, she was going to kill him right here, grab the knife from Garak’s hand and drive it right into those mocking, leering eyes—
“Then perhaps you would like to join—”
Julian tapped his fork impatiently on Garak’s plate, catching their attention. Ignoring the others, as if he and Garak were completely alone, he flicked his fork in the direction of Garak’s steak, leaned in and…
Opened his mouth.
Kira’s skin prickled all over. For Bajorans, this was slightly childish; for humans, who knew.
But for Cardassians.
Act like it’s normal, act like it’s normal, she thought, taking a sip from her drink to hide any expression that might escape her.
Garak gave a put-upon sigh. Cutting of a small slice of the meat – not even one already cut, a new piece, just for Julian – he speared it with a fork and held it out. Julian locked eyes with Garak and dug the tips of his front teeth into the meat, dragging it off the fork in a slow, smooth motion.
Kira glanced at Dukat from the corner of her eye and snorted into her cup. The gul looked like he was going to be sick, his expression radiating disgust and outrage at this scandalizing display of indecency like a sun going nova. Garak turned to Dukat with a weary sigh.
“I have spoiled him rotten,” Garak said as Julian chewed. Julian smirked and made a show of swallowing the mouthful.
“I earn it, though.” He winked at Dukat, who actually recoiled, then glanced up at Kira. “Don’t I, Major?”
“Julian, I’ve told you before, do not involve me in your…this.” She waved her cup at them and pulled a face. Dukat’s eyes fixed on her.
“They do this often?” he asked tightly. No sly oozing in his voice now, Kira was pleased to hear.
“You should see them on Julian’s lunch break,” she said impulsively.
“I have,” he said, his face twisting up like he’d just taken a bite of something foul.
“Perhaps you would like to join us!” Garak said brightly.
Dukat lurched back a step.
“What?”
“For a drink,” Garak continued innocently. He gestured to a nearby table. “I assume that’s what you came in for. Do pull up a chair.”
Julian put his elbow on the table and rested his chin on the back of his hand.
“Are you much familiar with Cardassian literature?” he asked.
“No,” Dukat said, instantly. “I have to return to my ship.”
He turned on his heel and stalked away without another word. Kira watched him go, waited until he had turned the corner – and began to laugh. Like a river bursting its dam, the laughter poured out of her; she had to put down her cup and grip the bar to keep herself on her chair.
At last, she got herself under control, gasping for air and wiping tears from her eyes. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed like that. Maybe she never had.
“That,” she sighed, “was beautiful.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” Julian said.
“Do you do this every time he’s on the station?”
“One must have a hobby,” Garak said mildly.
“Thanks for backing us up,” Julian said. “I’ve been worrying he would start to suspect we’re putting it on.”
“I can’t believe he keeps talking to you.”
“I figure it’s like poking a bruise,” Julian said with a smug grin. “He can’t stop himself.”
He’d sat up straight again but had not, Kira noticed, pulled his shirt back into order. From the look in Garak’s eyes, she was not the only who’d noticed. She downed the last of her drink and rose.
“Thanks for the entertainment,” she said.
“Oh, any time, Major,” Garak said. “I hope this has improved your day.”
“Garak,” she said, “you two have improved my entire week.”
Kira bid Julian and Garak farewell and headed off with a new spring in her step. As she reached the bar’s exit, she turned back for a moment. Julian was leaning forward and once more taking a piece of steak directly from Garak’s fork. She shook her head, smiling despite herself.
So I was thinking about Garak and Julian expanding their cultural exchange to include movies, which got me considering what Cardassian movies would be like, and then specifically what Cardassian movies Garak would watch.
long story short, Julian will fall asleep, dad-style, on the couch an hour into the movie and right in the middle of the fifth major monologue; Garak will be pissy about it; and Julian will not apologize for it because it's not his fault Cardassian Citizen Kane is seven hours long.
garak smiles without showing his teeth so often that when dukat shows his unsettling straight white teeth i actually get nervous. why are you doing that stop it. i forget your kind has teeth because the gayass tailor from ds9 wants to be perceived as nonthreatening all the time
I hate that the ao3 tag says "Elim Garak". I am not on a first name basis with that man. Frankly I don't think he is on a first name basis with himself
ellievsbear
jacobvanloon
blakekathryn
areudirty
kianamaiart
yousharknotpass
kaledo-art
