The BLTS Archive - Blood
by Blossom Morphine (blossommorphine@hotmail.com)

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Warnings for mild blood kink

Disclaimer: No, I'm afraid I must disabuse you of that
notion; I do not own DS9. 'Tis tragic, but true.

Beta: nancybolitho .

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"What did you just do?!" Something resembling shock spread
over Garak's face.

"Hmm?" It was the only noise Bashir could make at the
moment.

"That! You put your finger-"

"Um-hmm?"

"-In your mouth-"

"Hmm... "

"You are drinking your own blood!" The former spy look more
wrong- footed than the doctor was accustomed to seeing,
especially holding a  tea-damp towel in one hand mid-air.
Bashir quickly decided it suited  him.

Placing the broken cup in the recycler, Bashir continued to
suck on  his cut forefinger. The cut was now reduced to a
dull throb but still  bled. He could have gone to the
Infirmary and had it healed in a  nanosecond, but it was a
small cut and it didn't seem worth it.  Besides, he wanted
to savor the astonishment on Garak's usually  unreadable
visage.

"Why?"' The voice that said it had a (dare he say it?) husky
quality  to it.

Bashir took his finger out of his mouth. "Huh? Oh, uh, it's
instinct.  We do it to stem the flow of blood and disinfect
the wound." Seeing a  tiny welling of blood, he bought the
finger to his mouth and casually  licked it. To his
enchantment, the tailor's eyes were positively  affixed to
the sight.

Offhandedly. "Not only this, but it brings a little comfort,
soothing  the wound. Perhaps it's the presence of lips,
reminding one of when  mothers would kiss a bruise to
console."

Bashir returned to the sofa, where they had been drinking
tea before a  clumsy elbow had sent his cup to the floor. A
heady flush was starting  at his forehead and seemed to
reach his outer thigh the moment he sat  hip to hip with
Garak. This had never happened before.

Oh so casual. "There is a phrase on my world: 'let someone
lick your  wounds'. This is said when someone is injured,
although the injuries  these days are usually emotional or
figurative. The person who licks  the wounds is someone they
usually are intimate with."

Bashir chances a fleeting look at his companion's face and
finds  himself caught by what is revealed in those pale
eyes. Fortune favors  the bold indeed.

"Oh?" The ashen complexion had become almost smoky. "Well,
we mustn't  let you become infected with some rare virus
that befalls only  genetically-enhanced Terran doctors.
Interesting how that enhanced  hand-eye coordination and
agility failed to catch that tea cup."

Ah, well he had tried... Nothing venture, nothing-

Two large, steady hands gently wrap around his wrist and
pull towards gray lips

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The End