Title: Dutiful Attention.
Series: Star Trek, Deep Space Nine.
Pairing: Garak/Bashir
Rating: R
Word Count: 2266
Warnings: I'd say none.
Beta: PrelocAndKanar. Thanks sweetie!
Feedback: Yes please.
Disclaimer: I don't own any teasing Cardassians or peeping Doctors. *sigh* Not mine. At all. Oh I only wish.
Notes: Set sometime after The Wire.
Summary: Julian uses extreme measures to figure out if Garak is sick and gets a little more than he bargained for.
Link to this fic on LJ and on DW and on AO3.
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This fic is also available as a podfic.
Read by: me.
Duration: 14:20 mins.
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Julian fidgeted restlessly in front of the screen in his quarters. It shouldn't be so hard. Just... turn it on and wait. But... it felt so wrong somehow! No, he had to remind himself that he was doing this for the greater good. It was his right as a doctor! No, not his right... his duty!
Garak had been downright strange at lunch and he certainly didn't look like his usual self. And considering the trouble Julian had had getting him to the infirmary back when his implant broke down, he knew he would need to go about it differently to figure out if Garak was ill. He had definitely made it clear to Julian that he would under no circumstances go to the infirmary for a checkup and brushed off all of Julian's worried questions about his health.
So... Julian had decided to play dirty. Garak might be willing to gamble with his life, but Julian certainly wasn't. Not for a friend. Not for this particular friend anyway. He had faced Tain for this man, and he was not going to back down now just because of his own embarrassment. Granted, he hadn't exactly been aware of the danger he had faced, but really, convincing Odo to grant him access to one of his monitoring devices for a single night could hardly present the same danger.
Deciding that he was being silly, Julian quickly activated the screen and the image of Garak's quarters appeared, darkened and empty. With a sigh of relief at not catching his friend doing something he would really rather not know, he turned to the replicator, got himself some tea and settled down to wait. He had left Garak at Quark's over an hour ago, so unless he had some plans that Julian was unaware of, the tailor would probably soon be home.
Odo had made it clear that he didn't think the doctor would get anywhere with his scheme, as Garak was very aware of Odo's devices and would most likely not be doing anything in his quarters worth watching. Not that Odo gave up on catching Garak doing something suspicious. Giving up was not his way, after all. But he and Garak had in time reached some sort of understanding. Some of Odo's devices were allowed to stay up and others were regularly disabled by Garak and reactivated later by the constable. It was a game of sorts and Odo secretly delighted in it, despite his gruff assurances to the doctor that he would get nowhere.
Julian didn't feel any bit better knowing that Garak would be aware that he was being watched, but as he wasn't looking to reveal any lawbreaking, he felt it was justified. He was looking for signs of illness, self medication or anything else that might hint at what was wrong with the Cardassian.
At lunch he had looked very ill. They had been in the middle of a very animated discussion, when Garak had suddenly gotten a pained look on his face and crouched forward as if suffering from some sort of abdominal cramps. His face colored and he seemed out of breath. Of course Garak had tried to hide his discomfort and denied that anything had ever happened. So despite being worried sick, Julian had eventually had no choice but to leave the tailor at the replimat to resume his shift.
So, Garak wanted to do it the hard way. Fine. Julian could play the game as well. That fact that he was sweating with nervous embarrassment and the tea in his mug quivered from his shaking hands was a detail, surely. He would watch Garak for the night and if he showed any signs of sickness, he would have him transported to the infirmary in a bloody stasis field if he had to!
Just when he started to relax in his chair, the door opened to Garak's quarters, and the man himself entered and called for lights. Julian almost dropped his tea and put it down carefully, stupidly worried that the tailor would hear him if he set it too hard on the table. Hardly daring to look, Julian crouched over the screen and looked around his quarters guiltily, as if someone was bound to walk in and catch him in the act.
The volume was low, but Garak's voice ordering rokassa juice from the replicator still cut through Julian's quarters like a phaser and made him flinch. Shaking his head he decided he was being silly and forced himself to watch. Going into full doctor mode, he took a closer look at the man currently reading a padd and drinking his juice.
So far, nothing out of the ordinary. Skin color was a healthy grey, breathing was relaxed and nothing indicated that he was in pain. Still, knowing that Garak was aware of the surveillance, Julian kept watching. He might just be putting up a front, in case Odo decided to report his state of health to Julian.
Garak put down his padd and returned his mug to the replicator while requesting some music from the computer. Something Cardassian apparently. Julian didn't recognize it, but it was very interesting. It had a slow beat that sounded slightly off but still held the listener in its steady grip. It wasn't in any easily recognisable style. If Julian had to put a label on it, he would call it classical with a touch of something one would hear in a seedy bar or the back room of a brothel. Meant to relax the listener, but still hint at something... forbidden.
Julian felt himself relax a little. Maybe it was the music, or maybe it was the fact that Garak wasn't doing anything at all at the moment. He simply stood in the middle of the room with his eyes closed and a small smile, nodding slowly along with the music. The doctor had just begun to wonder if he should simply close the connection as Garak did seem in perfect health, when the Cardassian moved.
Walking slowly to the edge of his couch, he unfastened his heavy tunic, slid it off his shoulders in a sensual move and laid it casually on the armrest. Rolling his shoulders and sighing, he gave his observer the impression that it was something of a relief to be out of the heavy fabric. Under it was a light undershirt, showing off a lot more of his neck, but still fully covering everything else. Julian took the opportunity to scrutinize the revealed ridges of the neck for any signs of illness, but all he achieved from that was feeling even more like a voyeur and a pervert.
Garak sat down gently on his couch and removed his shoes and socks. Julian couldn't help himself and examined the Cardassian's feet with immense curiosity. They looked surprisingly human, actually. Grey and leathery, but otherwise no different from his own.
Distracted by the feet, it took Julian a few seconds to notice that the feet and their owner had in fact moved from the couch, apparently to place the shoes somewhere else, just out of view of the monitor. Garak moved back to the center of the room with slow and deliberate steps, as if truly relishing the feel of the soft carpet under his bare feet. With his back to the camera, he stood for a while, simply nodding along with the music and breathing deeply.
Maybe it was some sort of meditation? Julian knew of quite a few different methods of relieving stress. Maybe this slow moving and breathing was some cardassian technique he didn't know of. He watched even closer. If Garak felt he needed stress relief, then maybe something WAS wrong with him.
Just as Julian's eyes were trailing down the back of his friend looking for tension, Garak pulled his undershirt over his head with movements so slow and deliberate that Julian caught himself wondering if this was Garak's way of letting Odo know that he could stop watching now. It certainly had an effect on Julian. He felt himself blush uncontrollably at the sight of the scaled and very bare back of his lunch companion.
He should really turn off the monitor now. He really should. But no, he was a doctor and he was given the unique opportunity to get a closer look at a man who would apparently rather spend his evenings stripping for a changeling than come to the infirmary for a simple checkup. Pushing his embarrassment away he kept his eyes on the back of his friend. The undershirt was thrown casually to the couch, joining the tunic on the armrest, while its owner was still facing the opposite wall, gently smoothing back his hair, ruffled by the undressing.
Again Garak rolled his shoulders, giving Julian an excellent look at the movements of the muscles under the flexible scales. It was fascinating. Julian had to admit that to himself. As voyeuristic as he felt, it was also somehow exciting. After all the lies, he was finally getting a glimpse of truth about Garak. He let his eyes travel from the powerful neck muscles, trademark of every proud cardassian, down the heavier scaled spine, disappearing into the well tailored black trousers.
He caught himself wondering what the front might look like, and as if on cue, Garak turned around slowly, still nodding along with the music with eyes closed. Julian was grateful for not having to face those eyes. It always felt like they were looking right through him, and he would surely chicken out and close the connection immediately, if the blue orbs were turned towards the camera. As it was, he felt safe to continue his scrutiny, feeling more and more confident by the minute.
The grey chest was an ornate work of art, that surely only very good tailoring managed to conceal so thoroughly. The ridges of Garak's face were mirrored perfectly on his chest, although the edges were not as sharp. It was like a detailed map of Cardassian muscle groups, every ridge outlining its own portion of the chest and abdomen. And to complete the mirror of the face, there was a larger spoon shape right where the clavicles met. It did look a little different. Softer somehow with a hint of darker color in the center.
Julian could hardly believe his eyes when Garak suddenly reached up slowly and dipped a finger gently into the spoon and lazily traced the center ridge all the way to his belt. Sighing deeply, he let his hand rest on his abdomen for a while and ran his other hand through his hair with a smile, that made Julian wonder just what the tailor was thinking about.
When the hands met at the belt buckle, Julian flinched and wanted very much to turn off the monitor, but the slow, sensual movements had him hypnotized and he watched with a mixture of guilty excitement and fascination as the belt was removed excruciatingly slowly. It was thrown to the couch with a muffled slap against the tunic that made Julian jump in his chair.
This was so wrong. Whatever Garak was thinking of, it was certainly nothing Julian was meant to see. But he forgot all about these thoughts when the hands returned to the scaled skin. His breath caught as Garak let his hands stroke his own torso ever so slowly from the bottom of his ridged ribcage, across the smooth chest muscles with no nipples, to his neck ridges with a deep sigh, to his face, barely touching until finally letting his hands meet and stroke through his shiny black hair.
The chest heaved suddenly as Garak's breathing deepened and his lips parted to let out another heavy sigh. He let his hands stroke his own abdomen slowly and sensually, while swaying gently to the beat of the music still playing. It was without comparison the most subtly sexual display Julian had ever witnessed and his own breathing quickened along with Garak's.
And suddenly it was there! The very thing Julian had been looking for. The flushed ridges, the laboured breathing, the clenching of the smooth abdominal muscles and the almost pained look on Garak's face. But at this point, Julian could not honestly fool himself enough to believe they were signs of illness of any kind.
The grey hands snuck down to fiddle with the fastenings of his trousers and Julian couldn't help but groan with disappointment when Garak slowly turned away from him again. He almost fell out of his chair, when the Cardassian suddenly spoke quite clearly to the empty room:
“If you absolutely must flirt so violently during lunch, Doctor, you really should have the decency to follow up on it, instead of sitting alone in your quarters spying on me. If you want to see more, I'm afraid you'll have to face the real thing. I'll leave the door unlocked, shall I?”
With that, he turned to look directly at the monitor, winked one blue eye at Julian and slowly disappeared into his bedroom.
Julian sat slumped in his chair for a long time, simply looking at the screen, the strange music still playing in the empty quarters. His mind whirled and he was completely in the grip of his emotions, all of them warring for supremacy. He flinched at the sudden movement on the screen, when a pair of trousers were suddenly thrown through the bedroom door.
The doctor's chair spun lazily for several minutes after its owner sprinted out of the room.
End.