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From: "Keith & Jessica Bratcher" <campbratcher@psci.net>
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Date: Sun, 9 May 2004 22:53:09 -0500
Subject: [ASCEM-S] NEW DS9 "Nineteen Shades" 7/12 (G/B) [NC-17]
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Please see part 1 for codes, disclaimers, and notes.

-------------------------------------------
Nineteen Shades, by Penumbra (part 7/12)
-------------------------------------------


Garak tilted his head, regarding the fidgeting human standing in the
middle of his quarters. He'd need to proceed with caution so as not to
tilt the delicate balance of their anfractuous relationship, for
Julian Bashir was in a state he'd never seen him in before: confused,
yet obviously interested. Smiling, Garak mused that his friendship
with the young man was the glass bullet of his life: fragile, yet
strangely wounding at times. He wanted the man so very badly, had done
so for a long time, yet all he'd gotten had been, as the humans called
it, a broken heart. Maybe now it was time for it to mend?

He watched Bashir swallow compulsively. "Can I get you something to
drink, perhaps?" he asked, more to fill the quiet than as a courtesy.

"No, thank you," Bashir said and there was an odd look to his eyes as
he watched him. "I'm sorry I interrupted your evening with Serka."

"As said, nothing to be sorry about. It was merely the completion of
the Parting for us, Julian," Garak said, tasting the name and finding
it far sweeter than the sweetest of Bajoran spring wines. "Nothing
quite as imprudent as your imagination came up with, I'm sure," he
added, enjoying the faint flush that rose to Bashir's cheeks at his
tease.

"Let me guess. The yellow powder he threw at you?"

Garak nodded, impressed at his friend's acuity in piecing the events
together. "*Sher'ahm*, the necessary symbol of dissolution," he
explained, knowing he was not giving the ritual the justice he
deserved, but that was because he suspected Bashir hadn't come over to
discuss Cardassian marriage politics. "He's no longer my *ha'kem*," 
he added as a point of clarification.

"And Thuli?"

His lip curling in disgust and consternation, Garak hissed. "An
unexpected complication. However, Delemek's life is now his own and so
he can toss it away for a Sixth if he wants to." He paused, regarding
Bashir. "But you didn't come here for a civics lesson."

"No, I didn't. I came to tell you that your advice to rely on research
was a good one."

There was a note of trepidation and underlying tension in Bashir's
voice and as Garak watched, unmoving and intrigued, the doctor stepped
closer until they were barely a hand's width apart. The pupils of
Bashir's eyes were so dilated that his eyes appeared black, and while
it could've been because of the low lighting, Garak dared to hope for
another reason as he looked closer. There was barely controlled desire
in the gleam of the dark eyes, along with curiosity, need, and perhaps
even love.

"And...?" he prompted, the tension between them making his skin tingle
in anticipation.

"And now I have a theory I wish to test."

Bashir's gaze dropped lower, touching on his lips and then continuing
down to his chest where his robe exposed a sliver of his sternum. With
a quick, deliberate move, Bashir bent down and licked the spoon-shaped
protrusion at the top of his breastbone. The touch of his tongue, wet
and rough, on that sensitive spot almost made Garak's knees buckle and
with a growl, he slid his hand into Bashir's hair.

It was a long moment of utter bliss for Garak, the reality that so
handily surpassed all that he had fantasised. He had not expected how
Bashir's scent -- a sweet aftershave mixing with the metallic tang of
his perspiration and thin blood -- would affect him, how the heat of
his breath on his skin would inflame his lust. The lips that slid up
to feel the shape of his neck and the blunt human teeth that nipped at
the swollen, rigid ridge there made his cock ache in its need to be
touched, bringing him close to coming even when there was nothing but
the silk of his robe touching him.

With great effort and self-control he didn't know he possessed, Garak
pulled Bashir's head away to look into his eyes. 

"Julian...what do you want?"

"I want to stop waiting. Right now," he said, utterly serious and
breath uneven as it punctuated his words. "I want to know what you
feel like, what your hands feel like on me..." he continued in a low
voice as his hand traced down a fiery path over his robe, from his
chest down to his waist, turning his insides liquid. 

"Julian," Garak whispered, feeling the contraction of his muscles
wherever Bashir touched him, as if his touch burned. 

"I want to know what you taste like, Elim," he finished in a heated
whisper. 

At his words, Bashir's hand slid further down to feel his rapidly
growing hardness through the silk. The touch, as gentle and fleeting
as it was, was electric, making Garak's breath catch and his groin
ache with the need suddenly intensified in him again. The slide of the
silk against his throbbing erection was delicious torture as Bashir's
fingers felt their way through the fabric, touching him, learning the
pattern of scales on his pod and cock.

"Oh, Julian," Garak gasped. He grasped the tormenting hand and stepped
back so that he could catch his breath. 

"Tell me what you want me to do, Garak," was his breathless answer,
and Garak's groin tightened at the heated look and the flush of
arousal on Bashir's face. He needed to calm down, not lose control now
that it was finally time for this. 

"Undress," Garak said, and at the look of confusion on Bashir's face,
added, "For me."

With a shaky breath, Bashir stepped back and undid the pressure strip
fastener of his jumpsuit.

"Slowly."

Bashir's hand stilled on the pressure strip. He swallowed at the word
but did as was told. He slowed down his moves, the jumpsuit slipping
off his shoulders with a rolling shrug, gathering the fabric around
his waist before he pushed it down to his ankles and stepped out of it
along with his boots and socks. The blue undershirt he pulled over his
head in one too-swift move, exposing expanses of smooth golden skin,
bare of all markings save for the two dun nipples and a slight trail
of dark hair that disappeared into a pair of black briefs.

"Everything?"

"Everything," Garak hummed, touching himself through the robe. He was
so hard it was painful, the heavy fabric tented at his groin and
brushing against his sensitised skin in an agonising caress. 

As Bashir pushed the briefs down, his strangely naked cock sprang free
of the confines and he sighed in apparent relief. Kicking off the last
piece of garment, he straightened. A faint sheen of perspiration on
his skin made it glow with warmth in the low light, soft shadows
playing where his skin stretched over sleek muscles. His cock, dark
with the blood in it and his excitement, was pointing straight at
Garak, swaying as Bashir breathed rapidly. 

"You're beautiful," Garak whispered, his breath catching at the stab
of lust that coursed through him as he watched the naked alien so
close to him. "I will touch every beautiful inch of you," he promised
as he stroked himself through the robe in a delicious torture.

He saw the answering hitch in Bashir's breathing, the shiver that
travelled through his slender, sleek frame, and the rising interest of
his cock. A bead of moisture appeared at the rosy tip, trembling along
with the human frame. Saying the next words was the hardest things
Garak had ever done.

"Tell me first why. Why me, why now?"

"There's no end to the things you show me, Elim. Things I never knew
before." Bashir paused, his eyes unblinking on Garak and his voice
gone thick. "All my men and women have been comfortable, but I don't
want comfortable. I want you."

Garak exhaled, for his chest was on fire at Bashir's
words. "Julian..."

"You scare me and excite me in more ways than I can count, and there's
so much I want to learn from you. I want you to fuck me until I forget
myself, Elim," Bashir whispered in a low voice, echoing Delemek's
earlier words. Whether it was intentional or not, Garak didn't know
and didn't much care. "Please."

It was that word that finally convinced Garak. Untying the belt of his
robe, he parted the two halves and leaned back against the curving
windowsill. 

"Come here, then, my sweet man."

His eyes never leaving Garak's erection, Bashir approached and didn't
stop until he was standing between Garak's thighs. Drunk with his
desire, Garak touched Bashir's shoulder, throat, and all that slick,
cool human skin that he'd wondered about. His hands found the faint
stubble of beard on Bashir's chin, a curious, alien surface he found
absolutely the most erotic thing he'd ever touched. 

"If you don't kiss me now, Garak, I'm going to scream."

Garak smiled at Bashir's low, tremulous tone and the ever-present if
tense humour in his voice. "We'll save that for later," he answered,
equally quietly, before he captured the mouth that tempted him so.

The kiss started slow and exploratory, with Garak tasting the chemical
tang of lip balm on Bashir's lips, savouring it even as he licked the
lower lip. Obediently, Bashir opened his mouth and pressed back
harder, his hands coming to grasp his neckridges. Groaning at the bolt
of arousal that shot straight to his groin at that, Garak wrapped his
arms around Bashir's slender frame and explored the cool, moist human
mouth with his tongue. The taste was coppery and earthy, heady in its
own right, and when he felt Bashir's hips pressing into his with their
cocks trapped in between them, he almost came there and then. 

In the end, it was Bashir who broke the kiss, leaning back with a
dazed, heated look in his eyes and his lips swollen and red. When
Garak smoothed his hand down his back, feeling the slim muscles
contract before his fingers splayed across the taut ass cheeks,
Bashir's eyes fluttered half shut and a low sound of need moaned deep
in his throat. 

"Elim," he whispered and reached down between them. His hand closed
around Garak's straining, weeping erection and at the touch, Garak had
to hold his breath as not to come quite so quickly. "What do you taste
like?" Bashir asked, stroking him with almost painful reverence.

"If you don't stop that soon, there might not be enough time for you
to learn," Garak groaned in warning, fighting the familiar tightening
of his groin. 

"You'll taste like passion," Bashir husked and leaned in to lick one
of his browridges, all the way up to the hairline. His voice was
shivering almost as much as his body was in Garak's arms. "And like
this...like an autumn day of sunshine and unseen danger."

"Julian. Please. Now."

As if he'd only been waiting for the very words, Bashir let go of his
cock and kneeled down, his mouth seeking out the ridges decorating his
broad chest. Apparently intent on investigating each and every scale
and ridge, Bashir made his meandering way across the front of his
torso, sometimes licking and sucking whatever had caught his
attention, sometimes leaning back to watch as he touched one of his
brachial or secondary ridges and then traced the trail of scales that
bristled in delight at his touch. He left behind trails of saliva and
fire, his touch carefully avoiding Garak's aching, rock-hard cock
while making the rest of him shift with impatience and moan incoherent
words at the stimulation. 

Finally, after what seemed like endless delicious torment, his hand
closed around Garak's shaft again. "Careful," Garak hissed, his thigh
muscles trembling in strain as he tried to keep the tension growing in
his balls at bay. 

With no answer but an adoring, aroused glance up at him, Bashir
stroked the cock in his hand before licking away the opaque moisture
that coated the shaft, leaking from underneath every scale that
decorated it. His mouth followed a ridge that ran from the gleaming
black glans down to his pod, where he tongued in between every thick,
sensitive scale that normally protected his cock. His touch, both
tentative and inflaming, made Garak writhe even as he felt his
erection harden even more in Bashir's hand when he had thought he
could get no harder. 

Taking his time, Bashir explored everything, leaving no scale without
a nip or a lick, and sometimes Garak could feel the vibration of his
appreciative murmurs against his heated flesh even though the actual
sound was drowned by his breathless, continuous groans. Those sounds
turned to a full-on, throaty moan when Bashir finally traced Garak's
cock back up with his tongue before taking its length into his
mouth. The feel of the cool, slick human mouth on him and the hot
breath of Bashir's moan of surprise and approval echoed through his
rigid, anguished flesh and made Garak see sparks. His hands threaded
into Bashir's hair, clenching and unclenching at the slide of the lips
around his shaft. 

"Oh, Julian..." Garak growled, feeling the inflaming touch of Bashir's
tongue on the sensitive underside of his dick and the scrape of
fingernails against the scales over his pod, erotic and just rough
enough. "Julian, oh, that feels...I'm going to..." he gasped, his toes
curling in delight as he felt Bashir take him in all the way, his
glans rubbing against the back of his throat. 

Garak came in a fury of emotion, the white-hot pleasure spreading from
his groin outwards until he was blind to all but it and the feel of
Bashir's mouth around his cock. Screaming through his peak, blood
boiling, he emptied himself and felt his Julian swallow it all, the
other man's fingers digging into the inflamed ridges lining his hips
and sharpening his prolonged pleasure. 

When he could see again, Garak opened his eyes and looked down at the
human leaning against his chest. Bashir's head was turned to the side,
eyes closed and his cheek resting against the swell of his pectoral
muscles, and there was a beatific smile on his face. A bead of pale
blue semen clung to the corner of his mouth and when Garak wiped it
away with his finger, Bashir opened his eyes. What Garak saw there
made his breath catch anew. 

"Why do you look at me like that, Julian?" he asked, breathing heavily
and his voice still hoarse from the dying embers of his orgasm. 

Bashir's smile turned almost drowsy as he regarded him beneath his
long lashes. "Because you're beautiful, Elim."

And to that, Garak could think of no answer but a kiss into which he
poured all that he felt, all his want and love. It was answered in
kind, with equal urgency and need. 

-------------------------------
End of part 7/12.


[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]



 
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