Fandom: Star Trek DS9
Word count: 898
Beta: thegreatnarwhalsmuffin did a super quick beta of this. Thank you, baby!
Feedback: Yes please.
Disclaimer: I don't own any Cardassians or Doctors. *sigh* Not mine. At all. Oh, I only wish.
Notes: Canon setting pwp basically.
Summary: This time is different...
Read below or on AO3
Julian is normally obsessively hands-on about everything. Probably a consequence of literally having people's lives in his hands on a daily basis. But with Garak, he's just had to accept that he can't control everything. And it's never more obvious than in bed.
Garak prefers to prep himself.
Perhaps it's a trust issue. After all, as much as Garak protests the notion, Julian is pretty convinced that the main part of Garak's need for obfuscation comes from lack of trust. For Julian himself, it actually is a trust issue that Garak won't allow him to make sure by his own hand that everything is done right, and that nobody gets hurt in the heat of passion. But Julian has no choice but to trust that Garak knows his own limits, and to Garak's credit, he makes sure that Julian has very little brain power left over to worry at times like these.
Garak is on his knees, hips canted lewdly forward, putting his jutting cock proudly on display as he reaches behind himself. The movements of his arm makes it more than obvious that he's certainly not going easy, but he is at least going slow. Julian's only task this time is just to watch, and try not to come all over himself before they've even started. Garak isn't making that easy.
While his left hand is busy behind him, his right hand is sliding from chest to groin, not actually touching anything really interesting. But the movements are sinuous, and every time his fingers brush his hipbone, Garak sighs and immediately pulls his hand away, as if he only barely resists the temptation to continue downwards. Julian knows very well that Garak's self control is far better than that, but it has the intended effect of making Julian pant and struggle to not reach down and touch himself. All he can do is watch Garak put on the sensual display, and clutch at the sheets every time the blue eyes open to slits and catch his own gaze, smoldering.
Not only does Garak prefer to prep himself from a practical point of view, Julian suspects he actually likes it. No, scratch that. Julian knows he likes it.
Garak shivers, his shoulder twisting as he pushes his fingers deep inside himself. Julian can't help but moan, because stars above, Garak looks gorgeous like this. And in a very short time, Julian can have that. If only he can restrain himself, he will quite literally have that vision of erotic temptation dropped in his lap. Any moment now...
“God, Elim,” Julian rasps, mouth dry. “You're magnificent.”
Garak offers only a smirk and a pleased hum, before twisting his fingers one last time and finally moving closer. He moves with smooth efficiency, squeezing more lubricant into his palm from the tube on the bedside table, and briskly smearing it across Julian's heated flesh. As keyed up as he is, Julian can't help but be grateful for the lack of finesse. Especially because he knows Garak by now. And Garak only allows himself to be this unrefined when he's close himself.
He quickly straddles Julian's trembling thighs, and with only one last questioning look to make sure everyone is on board, he positions himself and slides down until he's seated firmly against Julian's hips. The heart-felt groan Garak lets out then almost makes Julian come undone. Garak is never loud. Sometimes chatty and sometimes quietly appreciative. But never loud.
Julian can't stop himself from reaching out, grasping Garak's hips hard enough to bruise. But if the repeated groan is anything to go by, his touch is more than welcome.
“Please,” Julian breathes. “Please, just... oh God.”
He's so close already, and he simply can't help himself. He pulls at Garak's hips, trying to guide him up and start moving already, and he fully expects to have his hands batted away. Garak usually doesn't appreciate being controlled. But amazingly, this time, Garak lets Julian move him. He follows the pull upwards, and drunk with the sudden rush of being allowed this, Julian pulls him back down hard, and they come together with an obscene sound of flesh clashing.
“YES!” Garak cries, and Julian stutters out a moan as he sets a brutal pace, pulling Garak's tight heat and sturdy weight onto himself again and again, dizzy with how good it feels.
“Yes, Julian, yes!”
The novelty of Garak letting himself go like this, letting Julian set the rhythm, is heady in itself. But the added effect of Garak reaching down and jerking himself off erratically is enough to make Julian fall apart, and with a few final thrusts he brings himself over the edge, pressing purple finger shapes into Garak's gray skin.
Garak tenses around him, wrenching a gut-deep moan out of him along with one last spurt of come, and before Julian's lust-glazed eyes, Garak brings himself off, painting Julian's heaving chest and belly with strings of pale blue semen, before collapsing on top of him in an uncharacteristic display of weakness.
Julian doesn't expect any explanation as to why this time was different, but he does his best to make his appreciation evident, cradling Garak's face in his hands and pressing kisses to every ridge and scale.
“So wonderful, Elim, thank you. Thank you for letting me,” he murmurs. Garak just smiles. And this time he stays the night.