The BLTS Archive - Wishful
by BGM (bgmanic@gmail.com)

---

Julian Bashir retreated to his quarters feeling humiliated and
exhausted. Fending off an imaginary Jadzia whilst the real Trill
watched with amusement in her eyes had been trying, both physically
and mentally. The figment had retreated, for now, but as Julian
entered his quarters and settled in bed, he wondered why he had fought
it at all.

/Because it's not natural, something's obviously wrong, and how stupid
would it be if I went ahead and had sex with an anomaly?/ he thought
bitterly.

Yes, this made sense, of course.

He closed his eyes. The last thing he needed to do right now is think
of her. Whenever that happened, she--

He jumped, feeling hands crawling up his back and a musical 'Juliaaan'
singing in his ear. He sighed, tilting his head sideways. "Not now,"
he said with irritation.

"Julian, why are you acting this way?" Jadzia complained, negotiating
a position over him. He half-turned, allowing her to straddle him.
"Don't you find me desirable?" she whispered. "Isn't this what you
want"

"I can have this in a holosuite, Jadzia," he murmured, unable to
resist the temptation to caress her thighs. "It's not the same," he
added sadly.

"But look at me ... feel my heart," she said, lifting one of his hand
to her breast. "I'm no more a holosuite character than you are."

"If it's all the same to you," he stuttered, retreating his hand
nervously, "I'd rather not."

"You've no idea how much that pleases me," a voice whispered viciously
from the corner of his room. Julian bolted upright just as Jadzia
vanished from his bed.

"Who's there?" he asked, fumbling toward his night table for his
weapon. His hand closed over the weight of his phaser and he climbed
out of bed, pointing the weapon at the darkness. "Computer, lights,"
he ordered. When his room brightened, he gasped at the familiar figure
sitting casually in the corner armchair. "Garak," he exhaled with
uncertainty, pointing the phaser away. He then frowned. "What are you
doing in my bedroom?"

"Naturally, I was asking myself the same thing," Garak chuckled,
standing up. When Julian only frowned, the Cardassian spread his hands
disarmingly. "You brought me here, didn't you?"

"I did no such thing--" Julian began to protest, then he shut his
mouth with a sudden thought. Oh no. This couldn't be ... surely ...
that one little thought didn't ... he sat back on the bed, stunned.

Garak advanced on him, pausing inches from him. His hand lowered
leisurely to the phaser Julian still held and plucked it neatly from
his fingers. "We won't need this," he whispered.

Julian's eyes widened like saucers and he peddled back on the bed.
"Listen, ah, Garak," he babbled, "This is a mistake, I was simply--"
he closed his eyes, shaking his head. "Think of something else," he
murmured to himself, repeating the sentence like a mantra. Garak's
mellow laugh rang in his ear as he felt the bed dip under him.

"Why fight it?" the Cardassian said, echoing Jadzia's earlier
question.

"Why! Garak, no, I never thought about you in that way, that is ...
not so obviously ... and ..." Julian was now backed against the
headboard, kicking away pillows and sheets with his feet as Garak
advanced playfully. "It wouldn't be ... that is ... Garak ..." He
sighed, shaking his head. "Why did you have to appear?" he mumbled.

"Because you knew you couldn't resist me," the Cardassian hissed,
reaching out with his hands to touch the doctor's knees. With a
strength that Bashir had imagined but was probably inherent, Garak
parted them as he stared suggestively at his young friend. "That is
what you thought while Miss Dax was so ineptly groping you, isn't it?"

Julian groaned, leaning his head back against the cool metal. That is
what he had thought indeed. And Garak, true to his fantasies, wasn't
taking no for an answer. He tried to close his legs, but the
Cardassian had advanced further, blocking his attempts. "So
tantalizing, my dear doctor. You've wanted me ever since we met in the
Replimat. I know, it's all in here," he whispered, tapping his temple.
He bent his head down, burying his face in the Doctor's groin and
mouthing against the fabric that stretched over a distinct bulge.
"Even now, you're suffused with desire for me. Miss Dax was an
adequate cover ... a self-defense mechanism. It's all very
understandable," Garak murmured, lifting his head to impart a quick
kiss.

The embrace jolted Bashir, and he knocked his head on the headboard.
"Garak, this is only an illusion - I can't just--"

"Why?" Garak had asked, but had not stopped his ministrations. Little
by little he opened Julian's uniform, sliding the clasp down to his
waist and parting it to reveal the garish purple shirt beneath.

Julian's hands wrapped over his to arrest the motion. "Because it's
not right ... I can't just do this. What about Garak? The real Garak
..."

"I'm sure he won't mind," the Cardassian whispered, elevating Julian's
hands above his head. Locking him there with one hand, Garak tugged
his shirt up with the other and splayed his fingers over the doctor's
dark flesh.

"How will I face him?" Julian moaned, arching his back slightly at the
intimate touch. Garak ... this Garak was seducing him with every
touch, every caress. It was too much ... soon he'd relinquish.

Did he even want to do otherwise?

The Cardassian growled, reaching up with quick speed to circle the
young man's throat. "Why all these incessant questions?" he hissed,
pinning Julian against the headboard. "Stop arguing with your
conscience and just enjoy, Doctor." Garak had affected a dangerous
lilt, causing Julian to gasp slightly in a strange mixture of
excitement and fear. Had he imagined Garak to be this way? So
powerful, unyielding and demanding. The force of the tailor's voice
drove into him, sent a shudder down to his very groin. Garak lifted
him further against the headboard, smiling viciously as he ripped the
doctor's uniform clean from his waist. A voluptuous moan blossomed
from Julian's chest, and he slackened in Garak's arms.

"Yesss, there ... isn't that better?" Garak cooed dangerously, laying
Julian down on the bed. He quickly divested himself of his tunic,
revealing to the wide-eyed Human the blocky power of his body. He was
stocky, but not overly so - the muscles were obviously there, moving
under the scaly flesh with every movement. His pale skin seemed paler
still next to Julian's darker body, and when they embraced, Julian
lost himself in a dizzying lust.

If Jadzia had been on his mind earlier, she was now less than a
memory. When he breathed, it was Garak's scent. When he felt, it was
Garak's skin. When he moaned, it was Garak's smile.

How could he have ever denied this?

The question fled from his mind when Garak's fingers penetrated him
without preamble. He cried out, twisting on the bed as his knees
parted naturally. He wanted more, he could never plead enough for
more. In a steady rhythm, Garak fucked him with his hand, smirking
overhead. Julian was lost, thrusting himself harder and harder still
into the Cardassian's ministrations.

"The best is yet to come," Garak murmured, chuckling as he flipped
Bashir's body with deft agility. Julian scrambled over the bed,
catching himself over the headboard. His fingers dug into the metal
like claws as Garak approached, splaying the length of his body
against his. His hands slid tantalizingly over his arms until they
rested on Julian's own hands, twining his fingers with his. Julian was
trapped, enveloped by heat and arousal and Garak's body. He let his
head rest on a cool gray shoulder and signaled he was ready -- more
than ready -- with a shaky nod.

Garak needed no further encouragement. He adjusted his hips and with a
languish that surprised Julian, he pushed. The bulky head of his cock
found the taut entrance with no guidance. Once pressed against the
doctor's backside, Garak buried his head on the Human's shoulder and
bit. As his teeth sank into his flesh, and Julian let out a most
sensuous moan, Garak pushed a bit more and plunged his cock further
into his ass. Julian's head swam with delirium - the pain that
throbbed steadily from his neck, the sharper agony in his ass - but
all of this combined into a pleasure so fierce he almost sank into
oblivious bliss.

Garak mouthed the wound on his neck, each suckle timed to the steady
strokes into the Doctor's body. It was slow, it was raw and aggressive
in its own right. Garak was not violent, but the seduction he'd used
was primitive - Julian felt akin to a small mouse caught in a deadly
dance with a snake. Garak could have strangled him to death, and still
Julian would have begged for more. Such was the Cardassian's power.

The thrusts never broke from their slow measure. It was enough, in the
end. Both cried out almost simultaneously, Julian trembling
uncontrollably as his voice faltered, let go of a cry that sounded
barely Human. Letting go of the wound on his neck, Garak hissed and
emptied himself.

Julian fell immediately limp, crawling into his sheets and drifting
off quickly to sleep, Garak's ejaculate seeping down his thighs and
onto the bed. It mattered very little at this point as he invited
oblivion.

---

Back in Ops, the next day, Julian made every conceivable effort to
refrain from thinking about the night before, but he was constantly
reminded of Garak's hands on him, the pleasure they'd shared

/Not shared, this was a fantasy,/ he interrupted himself

and the guilty desire that still lingered.

Jadzia was back, in his arms and embarrassing him in front of the
staff. But he was no longer irritated at it - in fact, he was
relieved.

That evening, after the rift disappeared and all was back to normal,
Julian contemplated the events of the last few days over a Raktajino
at Quark's. He was left confused by the situation. If a single,
innocuous, thought had spawned such a complex and sensual entity,

/Garak, it was Garak/

why then had he not returned to taunt him in front of the others? Had
the imagined Garak spoken the truth when he said that Jadzia was a
self-defense mechanism? To veil his true desires?

"My dear Doctor," a voice startled him out of his reverie. "Alone, and
so thoughtful. I believe this clamorous tavern is not the right place
for your kind," Garak said with a smile as he took a seat at the
doctor's table without invitation. "Musing upon the Imagination
Syndrome?"

Julian chuckled anxiously. "I ... ah. Yes," he agreed. "And you, Mist
... Garak," he amended. "Any unfortunate encounters?"

"Oh, we Cardassians have minds made of sterner stuff, I'm afraid. We
rarely let our imagination get the best of us. But we do grasp an
opportunity when one is presented to us," he said enigmatically.

Julian looked at him, confused.

Garak only smiled. "Did you sleep well?" When Julian blushed furiously
over this comment, Garak added, "I would imagine so. After all ... you
did exert yourself quite admirably." He leaned in, his eyes arched
with delight. "I must remember that, next time."

---

The End