InsaneJournal

It is six in the morning before they know it and they're lazily touching and rubbing against each other between nods.  They've only slept in snatches, but morning has a way of keeping you up once you're up, no matter how little sleep you got, nor how you spent the night before.

    Nature coaxes them both out of bed eventually, wearily.  Julian regrets the wine a little.  They didn't finish the bottle and they weren't drunk by any means, but it left a strange funk in his mouth.  Julian shuffles to the computer, checks his messages, stares a moment out the starlit window, and by the time he comes back, Elim has taken a quick shower and is setting out a towel and toothbrush for Julian.  He smiles groggily and gets in the shower himself, and Elim, once again ahead of the game somehow despite no sleep, has breakfast on a tray on the bed, and the bed covered in fresh sheets by the time he gets out.

    Julian smiles, drops his towel, and crawls back under the covers, skin still damp and hair still dripping.  Elim lifts the tray to let him in and offers himself as a pillow again.  Julian's gut warms and tightens as he snugs himself under his arm.  Elim feeds him waffles with strawberries between bites of his own breakfast, something Julian can't identify.  Julian is absently glad that he didn't get warm fish juice for breakfast, considering the mildly unsettling effect that both it and wine have on his stomach.  The combination could have resulted in some discomfort, he thinks, and from that thought jumps to the realization that they haven't said a word to each other yet this morning.

    Might as well.  "You're really warm," he sighs and turns a little to press a bit more of himself against Elim.  Elim holds the tray steady.

    "Hot shower."
    "But you're still really warm.  Really warm."

    "Really hot shower.  Fifty degrees, sometimes hotter."

    "Fifty!?"

    Elim feeds him a strawberry and does not defend.

    "You seriously like them that hot?  That would boil me.  And you showered a while ago.  You feel like you're still about forty degrees or so."  He pats at his chest to gauge his temperature.

    "We reptiles are very economical with our heat.  Though..." he trails off in thought for a moment, chewing a bite of his mysterious breakfast.  "That said, I don't know why more Cardassians don't seek out warm-blooded lovers."  Julian smiles.  "So many warm Bajorans, Vulcans, Klingons, and Humans out there.  Exothermic people really are a minority, it's not like you hot people are hard to come by.  And you're just so....warm," he purrs, and kiss-licks his neck.  "And...absolutely delectable.  And this."  Elim slides a hand under the blanket and strokes it over Julian's semi-soft prick.  "I can touch you right now.  It won't take weeks to build up enough trust to stamp down the physical reflex to retract.  I can show you right now that I want you to feel good, and take nothing for myself besides the pleasure of seeing you under my hands," he murmurs into Julian's hair.  Julian is hard before he finishes his sentence and is interfering with their breakfast tray.  He leans back sleepy-eyed and offers his face to him without hesitation, the shyness of hours ago vanquished by familiarity.  They kiss, and Julian grins and recognises Elim's breakfast as breaded mushrooms with hints of something tangy in it he still can't name.

    Though the natural rhythms of habit may keep even the physically exhausted awake, there is little that impractical insomnia can do to defend itself against waffles, milk, and a comfortable bed.  Julian sinks slowly against Garak, eventually turning and laying cheek against Garak's chest.  Similarly, sleep needs no more allies than breaded mushrooms, scallions, and pickled liver for Garak, and as the silence in the room grows thickened by Julian drifting off, Garak tries to move as little as possible and puts the tray on the floor, covers them up, and closes his eyes.

~*~   

    Julian dreams fitful and calm, rotating images and feelings, sweat in snatches, cycled with a repeating swirl of glittering dust on the closed top of a black piano.  When he wakes he has to stop and think a moment.  At first he isn't sure what day it is.  All the days and hours up to now have run together in his sleep, and he isn't sure if he is on duty now, tomorrow, or the next day at first. 
    Julian rubs his eyes and looks at him.  He knows he is going to see him there before he opens his eyes, and isn't surprised at all to see him asleep.  He is so still, Julian wonders how he could feel him there at all, in his sleep, but he did.  He knew he was there the whole time, and he can tell by the position of the stars out the window that he has been asleep for hours.  It's the look on his face that is more surprising to Julian.  Eyes lightly shut, almost posed there with a hand lightly curled beneath his jaw. 
    He feels absorbed by him, magnetized, hazily.  He isn't sure he could look at him now and not be sucked in.  Maybe it was foolish to think that he could.  You can't ignore a hurt like that.  If Elim changes his mind, Julian isn't going to be able to just smile and let it drop.  Not now.  He feels like an idiot for thinking it was even possible, that he wouldn't get this attached - and it happened so quickly.  This went from an improbable fantasy to a very real, very life-changing endeavor in one night.  No, not one night because he's felt like this for close to a month now.  That night that Elim came over for dinner, it lit him up and he's been burning crazily like this ever since.  It went from dream to reality so fast, and now he's afraid to let it go.  Afraid he will have to.  But he will have to.  Eventually.
    Elim sighs, stretches in place just a little.  "You think very loudly, you know." he mutters, never opening his eyes.  "No sense worrying about it now."  It's a surprise to hear his voice, but a welcome one, a relief from his own thoughts.  Julian remains silent a moment, not sure if he wants to smile or frown, worry anyway or just give in. 
    "Did I wake you with my thinking?"
    "Yes," Garak says with the hint of a sleepy smile. 
    "Should I let sleeping Cardassians lie?" Julian asks with his own hint in his voice.
    The smile on Garak's face broadens and warms a degree.  "Once in a while." 
    "I suppose it is simply in your nature." 
    "Is that all I am?  An instrument of nature?" 
    "When did you really wake up?" 
    "I believe...only a moment after you." 
    "After me.  How do you know then?  How do you know I ever slept at all?  That I haven't been watching you all day?" 
    "Because I woke up about an hour ago as well and you were drooling on me." 
    A little laugh escapes Julian's lips but he ties it back down because an apology loses something when said through a laugh.  "I'm sorry."  Elim leans forward and gives forgiveness to Julian's lips.  "What time is it?"
    Elim twists a little to look at the clock.  "About sixteen hundred."
    Julian groans.  "We slept the day away."  His heart clenches at the thought, and a surge of desperation tightens his shoulders, then slowly drains away again, mostly.  He keeps thinking this is going to end at some point.  He felt last night that that was the end, like some holosuite game.  You reach the end of the day, the end of your reserved time, and that's the end of the game whether you've achieved your objectives or not.  Then Elim gave him an extension, invited him to stay and play a little longer.  He isn't sure though how long his welcome really is, and his imagination is supplying him with the idea that once he's out of that door the game will reset, the fantasy over.  He knows it isn't true - doesn't think it's true, but the fear is realer than logic right now while he's still sleepy.
    "What's wrong?"
    Julian snaps out of it and rubs his face.  "Nothing.  Um."
    "I thought we agreed you wouldn't worry about it."
    "What?"
    "Whatever you're stewing about, there is no sense in it."
    "Oh.  No, I'm...just thinking that I should probably go and get some work done." 
    "My dear, correct me if I'm wrong but don't you have today and tomorrow off?"
    "Yes."
    Garak doesn't say anything at first, just lets the natural conclusion hang unspoken in the air.  "You don't have to stay if you'd rather not," he says softly from the pillow.  "I just thought it would be nice to spend a couple of days away from the rest of the world.  Face it later when we have to, and not a moment sooner.  Sounded like a good idea to me anyway."
    Julian smiles a little.  He can certainly understand the sentiment.  It was exactly what he wanted as well, this perfect lazy morning-cum-afternoon stretched out indefinitely, but he thought he was being responsible and prudent trying to end it himself rather than wearing out his welcome or assuming too much.  But what would he assume?
    "When I said you're welcome to stay, I meant you're welcome to stay whenever you want."
    He didn't want to assume that there was a commitment here.  Then he realizes, and he can feel it expressed on his face, that it has already been implied.  Now that sleep is retreating it starts to make a little more sense.  They're middle-aged men, not academy kids.  Middle-aged men don't have one night stands with their friends, put a notch in their belts and move on to the next or pretend it didn't happen.  They've already had this discussion.  Love.  That's what they said, both of them.  It wasn't one sided, but somehow the insecurity rises anyway.  And now Julian feels guilty because he promised he wouldn't change his mind.
    "Julian, are you sure you're alright?"  Elim's face has knitted with concern in a way he's seldom seen.  Elim doesn't show his feelings on his face.
    Julian laughs nervously.  "I think I just had a mini-panic."
    "Oh?"
    "Yeah."
    "Why?"
    "I don't know," he chuckles.
    "Second thoughts?"
    Julian concentrates hard and tries to hammer the feeling into words.  "No, just, I don't know."
    Elim seems to sink into his own thoughts for a time before he speaks again.  "Just because last night is over and done with doesn't mean that we're supposed to be over the hard part.  I'm still scared out of my mind, I don't know about you, and I think I'm going to be for some time yet.  If you are too, well, then I feel a little better."
    Julian half-smirks.  "When did you start reading my mind?"
    "I've been taking supplements to improve my eyesight.  I can see straight through your skull right now."
    Captain Boday flashes a wide-mouthed grin at Julian from inside that skull, though he doesn't think Elim catches it, and he tries to shake it off.
    "Well, rather than lying here being terrified of each other, why don't we go do something?"  Elim says and takes his fingers between his own.  His touch, even just this familiar little caress is intoxicating and he feels himself smile stupidly.  Another hand comes up and rakes gently through his hair, down and around the back of his neck.  He can't hold his eyes open against that.  He hears Elim hum warm amusement.  "Or we could stay here."
    Julian can't resist any more and scoots closer to him.  His hands invite him in and he forgets that just a moment ago was worried he had overstayed, forgets that he foresaw some imminent end to this, because it is suddenly warm and new all over again.  Elim's skin is cool except for a place here and there where he was touching Julian while they slept, but his mouth is warm inside, and he tastes fresh and mild.
    Kisses pass left and right between them, over their faces, but it is hard to kiss and smile at the same time.  Julian's grin prevents it eventually and he stops and wipes his wet mouth.  Elim pecks at his neck.
    "I think," he starts and waits for Elim's attention,  "That it's my turn now."
    "Oh?" Elim replies with no small surprise in his voice.
    "Yes."  Julian hoists himself up and over Garak, turning him slightly by suggestion and straddling his legs with hips cocked forward.  He runs his hands up Garak's chest, but Garak hardly notices that.  Rather he gets what feels like a strange smirk on his face as Julian's balls drop between his legs and rest just there.  Julian chuckles a little but seems to have no intention of moving them.  If Garak wasn't such a gentleman, he could make Julian very uncomfortable right now if he wished.  But that is two if's in one thought, which tells him he should probably reserve such a thing for later when he has more positive information.  There is just so much ahead of them, it feels like being young again.
    Julian lays down on top of him, knees up by Elim's hips to keep some of the weight off of him, and starts kissing his way over his jaw, down his neck.  Elim sighs and strokes two lazy hands down Julian's back.
   "What does this feel like?"  Elim opens his eyes again to gauge the intent of the question.  Julian is lightly rubbing the flat middle of a large scale on Elim's chest.
    "Like I have seventy kilograms of warm human pinning me down."
    "No, this.  Does that feel like anything?"
    "I can feel it.  But the scales don't have any feeling themselves.  I can feel with the skin beneath them though.  Just like you can feel something beneath your fingernails."
    "What about this?"  Julian runs his finger tip up and down a tiny strip of flesh peeking between the scales.
    "I can feel that."
    "Better than the scales?"
    "Loud and clear."
    "Interesting.  Does this..." he strokes that little patch again, "...feel the same as this?"  Then he touches Elim's ear in the same way.
    "Not exactly."
    "What about this?"  He runs the side of his thumb around the edge of his forehead rebec with one hand and another little stripe of pale skin on his abdomen with the other, lifting the bottom of the scale ever so slightly with just the pressure and pull of his fingertip.  Garak can feel the skin slip minutely over his rib, and the stiff scale remain rigid and pull away from the skin.  Immaterial, a natural function of his skin, but delightful to imagine in Julian's hands.  He doesn't even have to see it to appreciate it, and the shrill singing of his skin on his face gets transported to that innocuous spot on his ribs where Julian is stroking him.  He smiles a little and closes his eyes.
    "Or...here?"  Julian skims the palm of his hand down Garak's left arm, then slows and runs delicate fingers over his inner elbow, and at the same time dips down to put his mouth to his chest.  He licks at his collarbone, then as he trails his fingers lower, his mouth tastes down his sternum to the shape on his chest.  Garak moans softly, a hum of appreciation as Julian's tongue makes its way around the shape over and over, and his fingers tickle at his wrist.  Into the dip goes that hot wet muscle and Garak finds himself with his back arched, hips cocked up to press against Julian, and his breath hissing through his teeth.  Julian sits back up and grins while Garak looks back at him with accusation in his eyes.
    "Do you have some nefarious plan I should be aware of?"  he asks him.
    "No, none you should be aware of."
    "Then why are you trying to create associations my dear?  I can think of no innocent reason for you to want me to writhe in pleasure with a touch to my hand."
    Julian sighs and rolls his eyes.  "Can't you just enjoy it without questioning my motives and analysing it to death?"
    Garak puts up his hands and smiles.  Julian leans back over and kisses him, moves down his chin, jaw, then neck, and as he mouths over that strange web of thick skin and scale, licking stripes across the sensitive membranes between the scales, he digs his thumb into Garak's hip.  Garak growls and curls up like an armored beast, lifting Julian up with him, folding him awkwardly.  Julian holds on and wraps his arms around him, feels the flat back of his neck and the strange transition from scales to hair.
    It's exhilarating to be so casually manipulated, strange and lovely to feel powerless, but this isn't what he wants.  He wanted to ply him with attention and make him as weak as he makes Julian with his touch.  He's being so easily defeated though.  Elim's mouth on his again, he just takes over.  Kiss so hot and heady, the brush of his hard nose against Julian's soft, the same at his chin.  Elim's body is hard against him, startlingly strong, but Julian can regain his head.  He enjoys it a moment longer as Elim bends him back until his spine hurts, but then twists.  He is lithe enough to escape his grasp, and Elim doesn't yet trust his hands on him, Julian knows, can feel the hesitation in them.  He lets go before allowing Julian to hurt himself twisting in his grip. 
    Garak lets go, accepting Julian's initiative, reining himself in again to see where it goes, as long as it isn't too far away.  Which it isn't.  Julian pushes him back down to the mattress as much as he can.  Garak props himself up with stiff arms behind him and watches as Julian kisses and tastes down his abdomen.  The human cock is purple now, not just hard.  Garak takes that to mean he is pushing the right buttons still.  He's being brave again, and moves in over Garak's hips, hesitates only a moment and then pushes his legs apart and puts his mouth down.  He just kisses, and smells.  Garak can feel his breath on him there where the scales are small, dark, and fine.
    Julian pauses and looks up at him.  "Is this alright?"
    "Do with me as you please my dear."
    "Until you tell me I can't," he jabs playfully.
    "Am I going to need a safe word?"
    "Maybe.  Now is your chance."
    "No, I think I can trust you to know when to stop."  Julian hesitates again on that note and grins.
    He smells...Julian wants to put a word to it in his head because words define things, make them real.  He could call it musky, that's what men are supposed to smell like, salty and smoky, a stronger version of Elim's usual scent, but that wouldn't really do it.  He almost smells...dry.  He isn't.  That slick moisture evident in the slit, but it is a dry smell in the way that vodka is dry.  Liquid, room temperature, but to all your other senses, hot, dry, dizzying, intoxicating.  He was afraid of what Elim would taste and smell like.  Most mammals are highly influenced by those senses, and Julian no more than most, he supposes, but he was afraid he wouldn't like it, because he wants to.  He was petrified that he would be strange and wouldn't like the way girls taste, and didn't really at first, until the first time he fell in love and it didn't matter what his senses told him.  Didn't matter what she wore or if she caught a cold and her voice turned raspy when she laughed, because he just wanted to make her feel good.  He was worried about this with Elim too.  He should be more worried he supposes.  While countless men have learned and love the flavor of a woman, it's possible he is the first human to have this experience with a Cardassian.  Untested.  And perhaps if he wasn't in love, Elim wouldn't smell good to him, or, the other way around.  Hardly matters.  Julian just wants to make him feel good. 
    Of course the reptilian bastard isn't going to make it easy.  Julian glides a thumb up the wet slit, watching Elim's eyes staring back at him.  He has to glance down though, see what causes the incongruity between imagination and the tangible surface beneath his hand.  It's nothing like a woman.  It's tough rather than fleshy, like the rest of him.  Close in thickness to the cords of his neck, but covered in thin skin like a cloth of glass beads.  He places the palm of his hand gently, cautiously over it, a little pressure just to test, to see what he does.  Elim only smiles a little, face changing by minute degrees as he looks him in the eyes unblinking, innocent enough, though Julian knows he conceals a lot more anxious want than he shows.  Julian bends down and kisses him where his belly wrinkles a little in the inside curve of his torso, then down, and down again.  His pulse races as his open mouth finds matching warmth and wetness.  He closes his eyes.  Flavorless like vodka too, for the most part, but the scent in his nose is thick and male.  A raspy moan almost too small to hear escapes his throat.  Elim does the same and he wants to rejoice in success.  Those cords are tight, tough.  With a glance up at Elim's face, eyes shut, face skyward, he pushes and just barely gets the tip of his tongue between them.  The cords feel like two fingers, with a little more give, the outside textured finely with the smallest hard round scales, and inside, silken skin tight and warm.  Elim hums appreciatively.  Julian laps at him then, flat tongue moving slow up and over to let Elim feel the heat of it, as long as he can make it, and Elim grins at him and his hips pivot a little.  Julian returns the smile halfway and then lifts up, crawls up Elim to burden his arms again with both their weight, kiss him hard and press his cock against the wetness he left there, grind, hard into him and whimper into his mouth when the heat rushes over him.  "I want you," he says just above a whisper.
    Garak sighs harshly.  "Julian," he breathes.
    "Please."
    Garak chuckles light and high.  "Julian how do you expect me to resist that?"
    A smile spreads across his face like butter.  "I don't."
    Garak lifts him up again, with no help from his hands and Julian is shocked again at how strong he is as compared with how gentile he can be.  He supports Julian's back and lays him down so they are the wrong way on the bed.  He digs into Julian's neck, then, taking big juicy bites that make him a little helpless.  He will never tire of that unpredictable mouth.
    Garak is never going to get tired of his skin.  He's been devouring him for nearly a full day straight now and he is still not satisfied.  He kisses and nips at his face and jaw and slides down to lie between Julian's legs and notch his hips against his, thread his hands under Julian's shoulders and brace him down.  "Anything you want I will do."
    Julian moans a little and scratches nails down Elim's back.  He wants.  He wants a lot.  What, specifically, he isn't sure.  He could name a few possibilities but he doesn't want to fill in a blank check like that with just anything.  Most of the possibilities seem a little scary.
    "What do you want me to do?"
    Julian grins. "I don't know."
    Garak's cock emerges and slides up wetly in the small space between them.  Julian groans, his eyes flutter shut, and he writhes a little in Elim's grasp.  "Well, I'd say you wanted that.  What else?"
    Julian is trying to rock his hips and get some of that delicious smooth cock against his own, heedless of sensitivity in a brief, uncontrolled fugue, and Garak has to lift up off of him until he settles down.  Julian whines and tries to tempt him back down with kisses and tongue.  "Alright, alright," he coos to him as if giving in, promising to give in.  He sits back on his heels and has to push Julian down in the middle of his chest to keep him there.  "I think it's time."
    "Time for what?" he asks, propped up on his elbows.  His mind whispers the answer to him and goes numb with disbelief, taking half of his body with it.  Elim doesn't reply except to turn and stretch his long beautiful body, twist around and reach into the nightstand drawer.  He pulls out a small bottle, the sight of which makes Julian's ears burn, then squeezes out a little clear gel onto his fingers and turns his gaze to Julian's eyes.
    Julian becomes very still, then swallows.  Garak looks at him with a hint of questioning in his eyes, though not much, more sort of patient appraisal.  He is waiting for some signal from Julian indicating that he understands an accepts, but he may not wait for long, may proceed even if Julian makes no signal to that effect.
    No response comes.  He just lays there mutely as if he thinks if he stays still enough, Garak won't be able to see him.
    The pause is over though, and Garak takes Julian's right leg and puts it over his shoulder, then the same with the other.  His fingers coated in cold gel, he smooths it over Julian eliciting a sharp gasp from him that jump-starts his breathing.  He rubs it between his cheeks gently.  "Shh.  Just relax.  You're a doctor, you know how this goes."
    Julian swallows hard, trying not to hyperventilate.  "What?  Doctors never do digital rectal exams anymore, Elim.  What century do you live in?  They're completely unnecessary in almost any circumstance.  Plus they're just traumatic," he says with his voice flying just a little higher than normal, then swallows hard again and continues his harsh breathing where he left off.
    "Oh I don't know about that," Elim says, and with that, stiffens one finger and pushes.
    Julian gasps, then gasps some more even before letting out the first one, stiffens through his whole body and shuts his eyes tight.  He just sits there a moment, then the fingers of Elim's other hand smooth over Julian's chest, then down one arm, and take the hand that he had curled into a fist.  Julian hears a soft chuckle come from him. 
    "Julian, relax."
    He lets out the gasps finally and replaces them.  "Uh huh," he squeaks.
    He chuckles again and then moves.  A little deeper, and Julian is flinching, all of his muscles trying to leap away all at once, though he manages to catch them for now.  Then he can feel Elim's other fingers pressed against his rear end.  He knows that's as far as it goes and cautiously lets out another long loud breath.
    "Good boy," Garak coos, pauses, twists, and pulls back.  Julian makes a shaky noise, a whimper through pressed lips and tries to keep breathing.  It doesn't hurt badly, strange and sensitive, yes, and tender.  It just feels...highly unconventional.
    Garak gives him a moment with just one knuckle intruding, then pushes back into that ultra soft heat and Julian starts panting in a way that makes Garak's cock throb inside and ache to come out again.
    A few more slow and gentile strokes and Julian is shaking but no longer panicky.  It does hurt now, just a little too sensitive for rough fingers, but it isn't hell, yet.  He recognises though that it is likely to get sore quickly from here on.  He wonders if this is what it always feels like, and if so, if he is going to be able to do it, to get used to it.  That is the overriding fear.
    Garak takes a wet thumb and starts to prod and massage in that area.  Rubs up and down, above and below.  Julian actually seems to enjoy that.  Has probably done this much himself.  He hums a little as he rubs his perineum.  He tries to gently introduce him to the idea of pressure here, and moves his finger in tiny circles to enhance the illusion.  Julian doesn't seem to mind at all though his eyes are closed and he isn't making a sound.  Garak removes his middle finger, gets some more gel, and places two fingers there, and then in.
    Julian knows what is happening and tenses all over, but for some reason two is no worse than the one.  It hurts a little though he has always wondered why it should.  Why should a finger which is typically smaller than what normally passes through there, cause so much discomfort?  Even two shouldn't be a stretch, but it feels like one.  Elim pushes them in slowly, so slowly, and Julian breathes deeply, in through his nose, out through his mouth.  It's amazing how much he can feel of it, but he can distinguish each knuckle, each wrinkle of skin, and is suddenly very aware of his vulnerability, how exposed he is lying like this.  Elim's face is natural and open, there is no enjoyment or admonishment in his eyes, only careful observation, as if he were playing Julian like an instrument.  Then Elim strokes soothingly down his stomach once and twists the other hand again to turn his palm upward.  A funny startled noise escapes Julian's throat.  Then another strange feeling that Julian eventually realizes is Elim's fingers separating within him a few times.  There is a stretch that isn't altogether unpleasant though it is very, very strange, and the movement inside his body is unsettling, like a living thinking thing invading him, unconventional in the same way that everything right now feels from head to toe.  Elim pushes a little more.  There is no more room, but he pushes and Julian tries to just remain lax and let him push because it hurts the most when he clenches.  He understands that, but his body doesn't always listen to his head, and suddenly he can't help it and he yelps and bucks as Elim's fingers find his prostate and rub.  Julian gulps at the air sharply, then lets it out in a garbled moan as Elim pulls out of him completely.  Julian shudders from the very middle of his body outward.  It felt good, odd, hot, but it was just so strong.  He glares up at Elim when he sees a tiny smirk on his face betraying his satisfaction.  Julian puts his legs down and grasps his cock which is hard purple and hurting.
    He catches his breath and watches as Elim puts more gel on his hand.  Then Elim sits there, again with the questioning in his eyes, but his cock is out and waiting, bobbing this time.  Julian hadn't noticed before but it has a slight upward curl to it.  "Ready?" he asks this time, and begins to lift Julian's legs again.
   
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