Work Text:
Julian Bashir didn't leave the shuttle immediately after docking. He sat and fiddled with the pockets on the outside of his bag as if making sure he remembered to pack up everything. He already knew he had everything. If he focused just a little bit he could recall the placement of every item in the bag. O’Brien had gathered up his things as quickly as he could when they docked. His family would be waiting at the airlock. They always would.
Julian decided he had spent enough time essentially twiddling his thumbs and departed the shuttle for the airlock.
“Welcome back, Doctor,” Sisko greeted him. “ I hope you had a nice trip.
“Yes, sir,” Julian replied. His smile was a little wane, but he hoped it didn't look too strained. Sisko gave a small smile in return.
“Make sure to get some rest, Doctor. I don't need your report until the morning.”
“Thank you, sir” With that Julian started towards his quarters.
It wasn't as if there were anything truly remarkable about today, besides the corridors being a bit emptier than usual (it was getting late on the station), but Bashir found himself feeling a bit more melancholy than usual. He wished he had someone to greet him at the airlock. He wished he knew there would be someone looking forward to seeing him, some on to look forward to.
An image flashed in his mind of an enigmatic smile. He could almost hear the words ‘My Dear Doctor’ ring through his head. Julian could almost imagine Garak sitting back in the armchair, needle and thread in hand, working on some project or another waiting for Julian to come home like in some twee domestic scene. He could imagine Garak making Julian tea, running him a bath, curling around him in bed holding him close and steady even as his heart raced. He’d do all that for Garak too, if given the chance.
Julian shook his head as if to knock the thought loose. Garak was smart and handsome and mysterious, but it’s not like he'd have a relationship like that with Julian. Hell, Garak has not once even referred to Julian by his first name or invited Julian to call him Elim. Julian had read enough Cardassian literature to know that the use of a first name was a sign of close friendship and high regard at the least. Even after all their lunches, all the things they've been through together, all the lies, the truths, the games, Garak didn't feel close enough to drop the title of ‘Doctor’ most days.
Julian made it to his quarters. They were dark. A bit cold. The armchair was empty, the bed made, he was alone. Julian made his way over to where he left Kukalaka and pet the head of the little bear. The action warmed Julian a little. As Julian crawled into bed, he wondered if he would ever hear his name fall from Garak’s lips.
Garak didn't panic. He was brought up not to. He was trained not to. Panic was the enemy. Panic made one sloppy and imprecise. But if under some strange circumstance he did feel panic he would feel a bit like he did now as he paced back and forth in his shop. It was early. Business hours haven't started on the promenade but he had left the gift for his Dear Doctor in the shop. He stopped pacing only to examine the gift. It was a long sash in a deep emerald green every inch was covered in swirls of crystalline, silvery bead work. Each bead no bigger than a pinhead and each meticulously sewn by Elim’s own hands. He ran his hand over the beadwork keeping an eye out for any caught threads or bare spaces. There were none. The sash was a thing of beauty. but still he was nervous that the Doctor would not, or could not accept the gift and return his affections. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Garak gathered up the sash and made his way to Bashir’s quarters.
Garak let himself into the quarters as he was prone to do. He peered in where the dear doctor slept. Leaving him alone for the time being, Garak set himself by the replicator. And began to set breakfast for the two of them. Eggs, bacon, scones and jam, Tarkelean tea (extra sweet) for the doctor and rokassa juice for him. Garak had just finished making sure the silverware was perfectly straight (he had adjusted it seven times) when Julian stumbled blearily into the dining area.
“Computer, lights to 80%,” Bashir said through a yawn. Then he froze. His eyes were locked on Garak rapidly blinking as if Garak would disappear the next time he opened his eyes.
“Ah, Good Morning Doctor!,” Garak greeted. “I do hope you had a very fine rest. Please,” Garak waves a hand over the breakfast spread “join me. I took the liberty of replicating some breakfast.”
“Garak! What-,” Julian's mind finally caught up to the situation. “What are you doing here?”
“Well Doctor, isn't it obvious?” Garak followed the question by taking a pointed bite at his eggs.
“Oh come off it Garak! Why are you in my quarters at 0600?” Julian scoffed as Garak had the gall to paint his features into a portrait of surprise.
“Come off what, Doctor? If you'd prefer the chair on this side of the table I assure you, all you would have to do is ask.”
“Garak!” Garak held up his hands in a mock surrender.
“Please, my dear, join me.” Julian's heart couldn't help but flutter a little hearing Garak call him “my dear” without “doctor” tacked onto the end. Julian slid into the chair opposite of Garak and reached for the mug. He took a sip and closed his eyes as the tea’s warmth ebbed through him. After a moment or two, Julian opened his eyes and leveled Garak with a probing look. Garak fidgeted in his seat. Julian’s eyes narrowed. Whatever it was Garak came here for must be serious.
“Doctor I-” Garak eyes darted around as if he was searching for words he couldn't find. Garak at a loss for words? That was really concerning.
“Garak are you all right. Any headaches, dizziness, nausea-?”
“Doctor please. I assure you I'm in good health.” Julian was already halfway out of his seat, aiming to grab the nearest tricorder. Garak grabbed Julian's hand. Julian could only stare down in a bit of shock and awe. Garak's hand was cool and solid. Julian wanted to deepen the hold, maybe run his fingers over the scales on Garak's knuckles, but he didn't want to scare Garak into retracting the contact. “Doctor please,” Garak intreated once again, softer this time. “Sit.”
As Julian eased back into the chair Garak slipped his hand away. Julian was mourning the loss of contact when Garak pulled a gift bag out from his side of the table. “For you, my dear.”
“What's the occasion, Garak?”
“I don't need a reason to give you a gift, my dear.” Julian eyed Garak suspiciously, still not entirely convinced Garak was well, but he reached his hand in the bag anyways. As soon as the gift was drawn out, Julian gasped. The beads caught the light and looked like glittering stars amassed in a galaxy, the silk of the sash somehow still rippled and flowed like water despite the beads on top. It seemed to shift colors with every little way he shifted it.
“Oh Garak. It's beautiful.” Garak rose from his seat and took two sure steps to stand next to Julian. Garak took Julian's hand again and helped him stand up from his own seat. Garak grabbed the sash and placed it over Julian’s shoulders as if Julian was some sacred thing.
“It still pales in comparison to you, my dear.”
Julian's heart thundered in his chest and he could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks. Looking at Garak, Julian could see he looked a bit bluer than normal, and had a sweet, sheepish, nervous expression on his face.
“Garak?”
“Yes?” Garak looked up to meet Julian's eyes.
“Please tell me you mean what I think you mean.” Garak took a deep breath, steeling his nerves as much as possible.
“I'm yours…I'm yours Julian, for however long you'll have me.”
A blinding smile broke out across Julian's face and he pulled Garak closer to him.
“Then, my dear Elim. I think I'll have you forever.”
As their lips collided, both of them marvelled at their luck. Yes, this is what happiness felt like.