Chapter Text
Garak was not entirely sure when he first noticed Julian's furtive glances towards his teddy-bear, but it was at least a recent development, and a recurring one. For the moment, he said nothing, instead regarding his partner as he in turn gazed at his childhood companion. Garak was struck by the manner in which the Doctor placed himself in front of his Kukalaka; it had begun with a calculated move past the shelf where Kukalaka resided, not stopping, so he could not be accused of having gone with the express desire to look at his bear. He would then shift his eyes, hold them on Kukalaka for the briefest moment, not breaking his stride, and continue on to whatever invented task or purpose he had found in that direction. Then came a change – he wanted to be able to look upon his bear for longer, which entailed having to remain stationary, but without attracting attention to the fact that it was his soft toy holding his focus. He would arrange and rearrange items around Kukalaka, although his eyes were not trained on these objects, but on the bear. Garak noted that it happened overwhelmingly in the evenings, shortly before they would retire to bed, though there had been a handful of occasions since he had begun to consciously make his observations of his partner's odd actions when the darting approach and retreat had happened in the early morning, just as he was off to the infirmary. Garak had not yet formulated a hypothesis as to why it took place predominantly in the evenings, and what caused the change of routine to make it occur in the mornings.
He knew why he held back from broaching the subject with Julian – a lifetime of training and socialization was a stubborn thing, and he would never be able to shake it, nor did he want to. Softening some edges for one particular person, however, had been an acceptable compromise. His role had always been one of observer and he did adore observing his Doctor; had done so, in fact, for years before they had come together as a pair. On some days prior to their relationship developing further, it had truly been enough for Garak to observe this human, endlessly fascinated by his movements and qualities, it had been enough to gaze upon his beautiful form, mentally tracing over his lines and limbs. There had been a persistent unease in him at the commencement of their romantic interactions that he would be incapable of shifting his mindset from pure observer, to being able to fully enjoy his body and the man who wanted to be with him. This unease had lessened but never entirely went away. Garak remained aware of the advantages of his trained eye for observation, and so he worked to rewrite the scripts he had long learned, and sought to understand his desire to observe Julian as being an expression of how he wanted to know him more and more intimately, learn more and more of him for the sake and pleasure of it, not observing in order to win power or to gain a useful advantage. He further knew that his manner of being was the antithesis of the Doctor's – this too had presented a struggle but he had approached it from a practical standpoint; he fought against his natural insular instincts by attempting to seek out what was common between them, and finding a correlating aspect of the Doctor's humanity for his own form. If Julian lacked the elegant eye-ridges of his own people, he did have wonderful lines fanning out from the corners of his eyes, deepening as the months passed (something which seemed to disturb the Doctor, which Garak could not understand as they appeared very fine to him indeed); if Julian lacked the beautiful neck ridges he was accustomed to admire, he did possess a collarbone with a hard, elegant sweep to it.
He knew Julian well, and he was beginning to know him very well; he was conscious though that he did not know him as well and as intimately as he wished to, an admission he found saddened him in a manner he had never expected to experience. He also had to admit that he had not made it easy for his partner to know him intimately in return, and on bad days this brought a black cloud over him, a heavy feeling of resignation; on good days, only a light bemusement, and even hope that the future would bring him closer to unraveling the mystery of the object of his observations, and that he too would learn to give Julian something more in return without suspicion.
This was what had caused him to hold back now, and observe for a time longer before even considering broaching the subject of his repeated lingering in front of his Kukalaka. Up to this point in their friendship, and now relationship, Julian had never sought to hide something from him. Initially he had been bewildered by the Doctor's habit of wearing his heart on his sleeve, his inability to dissimulate, then he had found it endearing, and then ultimately, it elicited a protective reaction in him. Of course, the Julian who now shared a bed with him was not quite the same boyish man he had once known, as this was inevitable – nothing could stay exactly the same, and things would always be lost in life. He wondered if the Doctor himself was aware of this change and whether he missed the spiky novice he had been when he first arrived on this station? Logically then, Garak was aware he too must have changed over the intervening years but he found it more difficult to recognize and accept in himself than in his partner.
Why would he hide this from him, this need to look at his bear? Had he learned too much from being with Garak, and was hiding a perceived weak spot? This did not quite make sense to him as Julian had previously never displayed such an attitude towards Kukalaka. Kukalaka had been presented to him, discussed, acknowledged, an accepted presence. Granted, Garak had had no pre-existing reference for such an object and had himself had to learn how to interpret it.
It was late, and Garak knew Julian should return to their quarters soon after another long day in a seemingly unending march of days. He approached the shelf where Kukalaka was ensconced and gently picked up the small creature – he seemed so incongruous in his large, grey hands. Would he have wished for such a toy as a young Cardassian, if they had been available? Perhaps – Kukalaka would certainly have been a welcome companion when he was locked away, something soft to hold on to in the cramped darkness. He wished not to think of that now; he steadied himself by taking a deep breath and firmly removing himself from those memories, focusing now instead on Kukalaka, on how small the bear was. Even in Julian's hands the bear would have been a little thing. How could something so small provide such comfort and security? He attempted to picture Julian as a young child, something he had never even seen any images of, as his partner did not keep any such items. If Julian had been smaller, an underdeveloped child physically, he had said of himself, then the bear would have seemed bigger and more substantial in that context. Was this what Julian experienced when he looked at his bear, did it take him back to a time and place when the bear was bigger and he was smaller? He replaced Kukalaka carefully, storing this supposition away for further analysis, instinctively feeling he had stumbled upon something that held truth in it, although not the full story.
The door chimed, announcing that Julian was back. Garak turned to meet him, his features adopting a mild expression of pleasure. He was indeed happy to see his partner, but something nagged at him these past couple of months. As Julian moved around their quarters, ridding himself of the remnants of his work day, flicking a covert glance towards Kukalaka, and pouring himself a large measure of brandy, Garak realized what it was – the absence of chatter. Since tensions with the Dominion had spiked, there was a lack of discussions, not just about literature (Julian could currently not justify the time needed to read for pleasure) but even stories about his day, the cases and patients he encountered in the infirmary. He missed it, the patter, the little stories shared, how Julian structured his anecdotes, the speed and tone of his voice, the accompanying animated facial and hand gestures. His days seemed that much colder without it. There had been, it seemed, an unspoken understanding reached somehow, that Julian at this time did not wish to talk about what he was confronted with on a daily basis, the casualties of a conflict that showed no sign of coming to an end. Garak was loathe to leave Julian alone with these horrible images but who was he to demand that his partner be forced to share something with him he didn't want to? It was as if he was becoming less 'Julian', drifting further and further from his own self and Garak hoped he would survive this war, and not just in the literal sense.
Garak pulled the soft blanket more securely around his legs as he settled himself on the sofa, not quite as warm yet as he would wish to be ideally, and Julian smiled at him lightly as he emptied his glass, and then went to pour himself another measurement. Now that Julian's mouth had become empty of words, he had seemingly turned to filling it with alcoholic beverages. It was somewhat ironic – or would that be hypocritical?- for Garak to comment mentally on Julian's drinking habits, but it was undeniable that the Doctor's intake had increased and not insignificantly. Not that he was drinking to an exaggerated excess, there was no way Julian would compromise his ability to discharge his duty as Chief Medical Officer. This rather made it very difficult for Garak to articulate what it was that disturbed him about Julian's alcoholic consumption. Before, drinks had been sporadic, and something sociable, enjoyed with friends and colleagues, part of a celebration, a desire to prolong the joy of the moment. He thought fondly of the times Julian had unintentionally ended up somewhat tipsy with him, before they had become a couple, how his self simply seemed to be amplified by the drinks he had imbibed, his eyes dancing, speech even faster, utterly endearing; he was Julian, just more intense, if that was possible. Now though, brandy was something to partake of every evening, signalling the end of the day, something taken in private, not with friends; it continued to amplify him, which meant it was this version of Julian that become amplified, who was quiet, tired, drifting further away not only from Garak but from himself. Garak knew too well the comfort of alcohol, how it dulled what was too sharp, giving brief respite. The Doctor was self-medicating, that much was clear. But what was it he was seeking to erase, what was it that he truly needed instead of the false comfort of drinking? He wished he could truthfully give the answer that it was he, himself, he was what Julian needed. At least though, he could help his love to find what it was that he did need. Julian was deeply unhappy, struggling and Garak did not know whether Kukalaka was the solution to this issue but he was certainly indicative of the problem, and understanding this would clarify a lot. Instinct told Garak to approach slowly and softly, that any direct addressing of it at this time would end disastrously.
Garak roused himself from his thoughts and ordered a cup of tea from the replicator, wanting to have something to keep his hands occupied as he attempted to talk with Julian. He sipped his tea before beginning, as if struck by a casual notion: “Why do you think people deny themselves what they truly want?” He cocked his head slightly, blinking his eyes at Julian. The Doctor paused in drinking, looking initially surprised, then somewhat exasperated, and then ultimately intrigued, a ghost of his old self settling on his features as he considered what Garak had said.
“Uhm,” he began, pressing his lips together, his eyes searching the ceiling for a moment. "All sorts of reasons, I suppose. It is a bit vague, what you're asking. Would it be alright if I inquired about the parameters of this question?”
“Most certainly, Doctor.” Garak replied, satisfied to have already won Julian's attention and engagement so successfully.
“Is the hypothetical desire something that would hurt others?”
“No, I don't believe so.” Of course his first concern would be that; he was certain enough though that what Julian wanted would not fall into such a category.
“Is it illegal? That generally puts the brakes on acquiring what you want.”
“Well, makes it more difficult, but who knows, perhaps that is part of the charm for some. In this case, I don't believe it is illegal. I simply refer to a desire, something a person wants, and could have and yet will not allow themselves it.”
“Fear? If you allow others to know what it is that you desire it leaves you in a vulnerable position. It could be used against you, or taken away from you again.”
These words fell heavily on Garak's ears – how changed his Julian was now. His facial expression betrayed none of this, he simply inclined his head and said “I fear you are spending too much time in my company, my dear.”
Julian smiled at that, reaching for another refill of his glass.
“Let us say,” Garak resumed. “that the desire will cause no harm to others, is not illegal, and will not put our subject in a weak position.”
Julian considered this, rolling his glass gently between his palms. “Shame, then.”
“Shame? How so?”
“Well, just because something is legal doesn't necessarily mean it is something you can happily own for the whole world to see.”
“But why would a person do that? Whatever it is that they desire can be enjoyed by them without having to proclaim it to all and sundry.”
“But, by that admission, that something someone desires can only be enjoyed in secret only strengthens the idea that is indeed shameful.”
“Nonsense Doctor!” Garak was warming to the debate now, enjoying himself and feeling closer to Julian than he had in some time. “You and I certainly engage in activities which are highly pleasurable but that we would not necessarily broadcast to our colleagues or display in public, yet our lovemaking has no shame attached to it simply because it takes place in private and is shared only with one trusted partner.”
“You have me there, Garak. However, shame is something that doesn't always have to have a rational logic, or have a connection to the outside world, or find evidence confirming it in reality. A person can experience shame relating to desire given the context. Someone can have internalized a whole set of values relating to what they want as being shameful, even though this sense of shame is irrational, but no less powerful for it.”
So, it was a sense of shame, Garak thought to himself. What shame does he link to his teddy bear? He had not done so previously. What had changed?
“What sort of desires are we talking about in this case, anyway?” Julian queried.
“Oh,” Garak thought quickly. “Indulgent desires.”
“That encompasses a great deal”.
Julian made to pour himself a further drink. Garak''s pained disapproval, though hidden to a casual observer, was too evident to Julian. “And just where we are discussing desires and shame, you are judging me for wanting another brandy.”
Garak remained silent and Julian replaced the empty glass. “However, you are right, Garak. I should just go to bed instead.”
“What, and not continue this fascinating conversation? I thought we had only just begun.”
Julian held out his hand to him. “I think it can wait until tomorrow and that gives you even more time to come up with further arguments and aspects to discourse on.”
Garak took Julian's hand and allowed himself to be helped up. He rubbed his thumb and fingers across his hand, struck by the roughness of the skin here contrasted to the softness of other parts of him, the inside of his thighs and his upper arms. The calloused touch of those hands was intensely comforting to Garak; these were strong hands, tools, capable of soothing patient and lover alike. Garak took great pleasure in holding these hands to his chest, observing the stark contrast between his scaled grey skin and the dark tapering digits pressed against him.
In their bedroom Garak undressed methodically, folding and storing each item whilst Julian was somewhat more slapdash, tugging off his undershirt, leaving his hair in fluffy disarray. They arranged themselves in bed until they found the position most suited to them, with Garak on his back, one of Julian's long legs thrown over him, leaving Garak able to rest his hand on his warm skin. Sometimes, during particularly stressful times, Julian would specifically ask Garak if he could change position, to rest his body weight on him as much as he could as it helped him feel better, took the worry away somehow, he explained. He felt more than saw that Julian was quickly falling into an exhausted slumber. It had been quite some time since they had last made love. Garak did know that it wasn't due to Julian losing interest in him, which was some consolation – as the conflict with the Dominion wore on, Julian's drive had dwindled. Others during this period would have had the exact opposite reaction, and indeed, Garak got the impression that this was the case when he saw Quark's bar and the couples there, the Holosuites in constant use. It affected his Doctor differently, however. Initially in their relationship, Garak had secretly worried that he would be the one who would not have a libido to match his younger partner. Even as a younger man himself, Garak had been more inclined towards sensuality rather than a more active drive. He was content to spend time simply exploring and touching his partner's body, concerned with giving them pleasure and not necessarily requiring to take it in return, or at least not in a more penetrative manner. In those first heady months with Julian, there had been evenings which seemed endless, spent acquainting themselves with the other's body and accompanying adventures in working out how to compatibly align them. All Garak had to do was close his eyes and he could instantly conjure up the image of Julian's face when he first touched his cock, how his fingertips moved over the dark scales at the base, carefully feeling the small ridges running down its length; Julian's eyes had been even darker than usual, in his heavily lidded gaze an expression of intense focus and want. The memory of the moment sent heat to his neck every time. They had found a rhythm, as with everything, that worked for them. Garak learned from Julian how he could bring him the most pleasure (although Garak may have opened his eyes on one or two new things) and so it played no role whether Garak was able to perform on a given occasion or not. “Even in this, still a voyeur.” Julian had teased. “An observer.” he had responded. Now though, there was little time to be spent on such languorous occasions. Julian was chronically under-slept, and there was no thought for lover's caresses or initiations when he fell into bed. Sometimes Julian didn't even make it to their bed at all, he would simply fold himself up in a chair in the infirmary and sleep there.
In a strange way, the ongoing conflict had been what precipitated their final move from close friends to partners. Garak had found himself increasingly snappish, far too easily irritated and ready for sharp remarks at any given moment. The target usually ended up being the Doctor as this was when his ability to control his frustrations were at their lowest. The Doctor had missed one of their lunch dates and Garak had stalked off to track him down, not having heard from him or having any word of a need to cancel or reschedule. He had found the Doctor, obliviously hunched over reports in his private office at the infirmary; he had looked genuinely surprised to see Garak and then contrite at realizing he had been so caught up in the work of processing the reports on injured fighters that he had forgotten their assignation. And yet Garak had found himself unable to swallow the thorny asides which bubbled up, quickly causing Julian in his turn to react with a similar prickliness. However, in the briefest moment, Garak witnessed Julian's brown eyes softening, the usual amused warmth returning to them.
“Garak, were you worried about me? That something had happened to me? Now that I am taking active part in this war?”
“Preposterous.” Garak had retorted, his throat closing up as he only realized in the moment after Julian had said this that it was true.
“Garak.” His voice had been quieter, deeper. “I am sorry to have distressed you but I have to fulfill my duties. I am afraid this is what I signed up for.”
“Yes, your precious frontier medicine.” He hissed, despising the sound of the words but incapable of saying anything else. Julian had then taken a small step towards him and kissed him, holding his lips against his for just a moment, shocking Garak to his core, causing him to step back, body held rigidly, ready to defend himself against whatever plot or ploy this was. Julian had smiled and approached him again, and kissing him once more.
“I can only promise that I will try to take the greatest care that I can, but I cannot control anything else. Will you please forgive me for my rudeness in forgetting our lunch date?”
And of course he forgave him.
Though it had been the war which had finally pushed them together, Garak found himself regularly musing upon how their partnership would be when the conflict was over. If their relationship had been forged in war, he had niggling concerns about how they would be with one another outside of it. He allowed himself in the quiet of their bedroom to fantasize about being able to bring his Doctor on holiday, whenever 'this' was over ('over'?) . Where could they go? Somewhere warm, that criterion was a must. Somewhere with wide open spaces, a far-off horizon, unblemished by any other disturbing elements. Flowers would be nice too, wildflowers. He imagined being there with Julian, but as sleep overtook him, somehow the colours changed, the greenery became sandy desert and the landscape was now Cardassia.