Work Text:
Julian woke up to a warm hand rubbing the back of his neck in a way that did nothing to encourage actually waking up or getting out of bed. “Morning,” he mumbled, nuzzling his face against the hairless chest that he had slept clinging to. Garak found anything more than a sheet stifling which only encouraged Julian to wrap himself around Garak on the nights they spent together, pressing his toes and his fingertips to the almost furnace like skin of his alien lover. Cardassians had a body temperature that was several degrees higher than the average human.
“We’ve got to get up. I have to open my shop and you told me you had a very interesting day of research all set for you; something about a viral infection, I believe,” Garak spoke as he shifted his weight, forcing Julian to come further out of his slumber.
Julian managed an incoherent mumble before moving closer to Garak, not wanting the night to end, and not just because he didn’t get enough sleep.
“Ah, none of that complaining,” Garak said firmly but with a tone of indulgence that almost reminded Julian of a parent speaking to a child. Garak used the central ring of the harness that Julian still wore from the evenings activities to pull Julian entirely off of Garak so that he could get out of bed.
Julian’s eyes came fully open at the movement, the straps of the harness that ran around his chest and shoulders and down around his thighs digging against his skin ever so slightly. He hadn’t even really noticed the harness so much in the night, nor the cuffs around his wrists; the soft Andorian leather that Garak had used to craft them warmed to his skin quickly and the metal rings didn’t dig in anywhere uncomfortably. He watched as Garak got dressed and couldn’t help but wonder how well any of them really knew the tailor. Julian certainly hadn’t suspected that Garak had a thing for bondage and control in the bedroom until after their relationship had took a decidedly interesting turn, though when he thought of all he knew about Cardassians in general it shouldn’t have been that surprising.
“Aren’t you going to get ready for work?” Garak asked as he sat back down on the bed to pull on his boots.
“Watching you,” Julian said simply, unable to stop a smile from forming.
Garak reached over, running his hand down the side of Julian’s face and cupping his chin briefly.
This was the other part that continually surprised Julian, the part where Garak touched Julian gently and often, running his warm hands all over his body or through his hair and letting Julian do the same in return. Whenever Julian found himself pressed against Garak as they were falling asleep, Garak’s arm behind his shoulders to hold him close, he had to wonder how this had all happened and if it wasn’t possible - or even probable - that he had finally gone insane thanks to his DNA resequencing and that the entire relationship had been fabricated by his addled mind. More probable than cuddling with a Cardassian in any case.
Garak found Julian’s uniform from where it had been draped over the couch and tossed it to him.
“Aren’t you going to release me first?” Julian asked.
“No.” Garak answered absently, occupied with the mirror as he tidied his hair.
“No?” Julian sputtered. “You’re joking.”
Garak turned to briefly look at Julian. “Am I a man who jokes?”
“Yes. Sometimes.” Julian frowned. “Well, generally it’s more a quiet sarcasm. But really, you can’t leave me in these all day. I have to go to work and they aren’t exactly Starfleet issue.”
“I think I would be more concerned if they were Starfleet issue.” Garak said, clearly amused.
“Garak. What if somebody sees? Or if I’m called to leave the station on an emergency?” Julian demanded.
Garak smiled patiently. “If somebody sees you would clearly not be in a full state of dress and the fact that you’re wearing a harness shouldn’t be that problematic. If there is an emergency you can use the comm to contact me and I will give you the codes to release yourself. Now, I have a meeting during lunch, but I will see you at my quarters for dinner.” He left Julian’s quarters without further comment.
Julian stared blankly at the closed door before examining the straps of the harness and then the cuffs around his wrists. He could probably find something sharp enough to cut through, but it was more a question of going to the engineering staff rather than any supplies he had in the infirmary. Anything that would cut through Andorian leather would go straight through his flesh without pause. And as much as he considered Chief O’Brien a friend, he couldn’t go asking him for tools that would cut through leather but not skin without having to offer some kind of explanation, and that was something he simply wasn’t prepared to do.
Experimentally he pulled on his uniform, first his tunic and then the jumpsuit over it, followed by his boots. The cloth caught in a few places where the small flat locks were placed on the cuffs and harness. He stood in front of the full length mirror and examined his appearance, trying to see if they were visible at all. While he thought he detected a small lump on his chest where the central ring of the harness was and a small amount of bulk around his wrists, he didn’t really think that anyone would be able to tell by just casually looking at him. He moved, stretching his arms above his head and behind his back; the harness tightened and tugged at his thighs and chest with the movements. Only when he stretched his arms far were the cuffs visible, and even then just barely.
Deciding that going after Garak and insisting that the cuffs and harness were removed was more trouble than it was worth, even though he knew that Garak would do it if he insisted, Julian brushed his hair and attached his comm badge. He gave himself a firm nod in the mirror, a reminder that everything was fine and he would do nothing to give away his situation to anyone who wasn’t in the know. After all, he had done years in Starfleet without raising any suspicions as to the status of his DNA; a day in a sexually compromising garment should be simple in comparison.
In a way, it was almost exciting, Julian decided as he walked through the habitat ring, the brush of the harness on his thighs a constant reminder when he moved. Almost like playing in one of his James Bond scenarios on the holodeck. He fought the brief urge to send a message to his father and ask what exactly had been done to his sexual preferences when his DNA had been resequenced. Somehow he doubted that his father had specified an attraction to kinky Cardassians when he had determined his intelligence and his hand-eye coordination.
When he got off the turbolift and walked onto the Promenade he had the brief moment of fright; thinking that everyone was staring at him, at his clothing like they knew what he was wearing underneath his uniform. Julian forced himself to walk to the infirmary, his spine stiff and his head held high, unable to meet anyone’s eyes as he passed them by, knowing that his skin was flushing and there was nothing he could do about it. He knew that no one could see, that no one had any idea, but he couldn’t help imagining that they did.
In the infirmary he checked in with the on-duty nurses, making sure to smile disarmingly and go over the night reports with his usual charm and gusto. When he was certain that everything was settled down for the day, and that none of the nurses or other doctors on staff had noticed anything peculiar about him, Julian went back into the attached lab and pulled up his research on the console that he had designated as his. When he sat, the pressure of the harness became more noticeable, particularly along his thighs, shoulders and back. Resisting the temptation to run his hands over his uniform to make sure that nothing was visible, Julian leaned forward to pick up where he had left off the previous day, before he’d been called away to help with a surgery.
Working in a harness, even though it was just lab work, was a completely different experience than Julian had expected. Every time he shifted his weight or moved to change slides on his microscope he was aware of the harness pulling against his skin, still soft and not painful, but very present. When he reached for things or pulled equipment from shelves he was aware of his wrists and sleeves, making sure that no one could see the cuffs that were tight enough for him to constantly be aware of them but nowhere near tight enough to hurt or cut off circulation. It was almost like Garak was with him the entire morning, his hands pressing against his skin, petting him in assurance that everything was just fine. Once Julian had settled into the routine and adjusted to the sensations he found that he was a little more relaxed than he usually was while doing research and he smiled to himself. He wasn’t sure that this was the effect Garak had intend to have, but at the same time, he wasn’t at all sure that Garak didn’t know exactly what he was doing.
He ate lunch in the replimat with Chief O’Brien, and was more confidant being on the Promenade than he had been in the morning. He let Miles talk about his new crew and the retrofitting that he had been working on for months, nodding in the right places and commenting when he could so that Miles would know that he was paying attention. Having finished his meal and working on a cup of Raktajino, Julian allowed his eyes to wander across the crowd, coming to an abrupt stop when he saw Garak eating lunch with a Kobheerian at a restaurant across the way. Garak met his eyes briefly in acknowledgement, his eyes flicker to Julian’s wrists before returning his attention to the Kobheerian. Julian shifted slightly, the sudden appearance of someone else who knew exactly what he was wearing both unnerving and arousing.
“Julian? What’s with you today?” Miles asked, pulling Julian from his thoughts.
“I’m listening, you were talking about the docking pylons malfunctioning again and that Sisko will not be pleased if you have to shut one of them down to completely retrofit it. Again.” Julian frequently found that his most useful ‘gift’, beyond his intelligence, was his ability to split his concentration so it looked like he was listening to someone even when his thoughts were otherwise occupied.
“I know you were listening to me. That’s why I’m concerned; usually you’re telling me about a vaccine or a virus or a, I don’t know, a weird sickness that happened to wander into the infirmary. Today you’re just sitting there like you aren’t even looking at me.” Miles frowned, clearly upset that his friend had mentally gone missing.
“You’re right. I’m sorry. I must have left my mind back in the lab.” Or my bedroom, he thought ruefully, fighting to keep the blush from his face. “And I really do have to get back. Holodeck next week to make up for it?” he offered.
Miles stared, assessing Julian but eventually nodded. “Alright, but I get to pick the program. And you do not get to be James Bond again.”
“But I make a very good James Bond.” Julian collected his tray, knowing that he achieved the right degree of smugness when Miles merely snorted in response.
Julian went back to the infirmary and settled back into his research, pausing after an hour to help with an influx of patients with minor ailments into the infirmary. Standing, sitting, or moving he felt the presence of the harness, that had moved from being concern to something comforting over the course of the day. When he used the manual interface, something he frequently found faster than entering commands verbally, the cuffs were pressed into this wrists when he rested them on the console, bringing back memories of the times that Garak and placed them on him and locked them to each other or to the headboard. He was sure that he hadn’t ever blushed so much while in the infirmary and would have been concerned about it if anyone else had been in the lab.
At the end of the work day he gave instructions to the doctor that was on the night shift and took the turbolift back to the habitat ring. His steps were looser than they were in the morning, the harness tugging as he walked almost aroused him to where he was more concerned about the lack of concealment that his uniform offered than anyone seeing him in a harness and cuffs.
Garak was waiting in his quarters, with dinner set out on the table and the lights partially dimmed. Their romance, if that’s what it was, was a strange amalgamation of both human and Cardassian courtship rituals that they had gleaned from each other over the years of trading literature and stories. Julian smiled and walked to Garak, kissing him and feeling Garak’s hands roam over the back of his uniform to feel the harness through them.
“I have to admit that I’m somewhat surprised that you didn’t come to me today and insist that I release you,” Garak said when they parted.
Julian thought about how he had felt that Garak had been with him in his lab all day. “Actually, I found the experience to be very educational.”
“I don't suppose you care to share what you've learned?” Garak asked, slipping his hands under the sleeves of Julian's uniform and running his fingers along where the cuffs met his skin.
Julian smiled as he felt the heat of Garak's fingertips around his wrists. “I suspect you already know.”
The answering flash of a smile before Garak pulled Julian back in for another kiss confirmed all of Julian's suspicions while giving him several more.