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ganymedesbussy · 10 months ago

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WIP: Garak claustrophobia fic

Garak felt his way through the narrow corridor. Too small, too small, his instincts screamed at him, but he deepened his breathing and continued. The thin fiberoptic strands Tain had left as a light source guided him to his work. He tried to focus on the light, on his work; he was too warm, for once, but he could breathe freely, and the only way to get out of this damned Dominion prison waited for him at the source of the light.

The other reason he needed out, of course, was waiting for him at the other end of the passage. Dr. Bashir, alive and waiting for him and real, real, real. His instincts were yelling quite a lot about that, as well, conflicting messages of elation at having found him at last and fear of having allowed him to observe the last words between himself and his father. But he had far more experience with reining in the push-and-pull of his feelings on this subject, and had only to stop and listen now and again to hear the voice of his dear friend coaxing him forward. He could do this - he WOULD do this. He would rescue the lot of them, federation and non-federation prisoners alike, would bring Bashir home and be lauded as a hero. Dear Julian would be so grateful that he would quite forget about all of those silly darts games with the Chief, and he would— he would—

Too small, too small, too small! He closed his eyes and focused on his work.

Later, he wasn’t sure how long, the cable lights began to flicker. He could taste his own fear hanging thick in the air, and feel his pulse quickening, toosmall toosmall toosmall! Trying his best to speak in a calm voice, he chided himself and the light. “I’m sorry, but that’s absolutely unacceptable,” he explained to it. “I’m under enough strain as it is, I can’t have you quitting on me!” he gave himself a small shake, and tried to bargain. “Get a hold of yourself, Garak. After all, you haven’t had one of these attacks in years. Yes, this is a tight, enclosed space. Yes, there’s not a lot of room to move. But a disciplined mind does not allow itself to be sidetracked by niggling psychological disorders like… claustrophobia.”

It could almost be his father’s voice admonishing him; it was painful and comforting and exasperating in turns to imagine it so. “Besides, this isn’t like Tzenketh: the walls won’t collapse in on you, your friends are nearby, there’s plenty of air, so there’s nothing to be concerned about. Focus on the job. You’re the only person who can contact the runabout. People are depending on you.” Julian is depending on you. Ah, but that wouldn’t do, would it? Not when trying to keep his poor heart from racing. “Ziyal is depending on you. You promised her you’d come back, and that young lady has had quite enough disappointments in her life without you adding to them,” the entire life history of her father, for one, “so control yourself. You’re stronger than this. A disciplined mind—”

The light vanished.

He could feel his spacial awareness shrinking, insisting to his otherwise rational mind that the walls were moving closer, would crush him; the space was too small, too small, he had to escape, he had to breathe, but he couldn’t find the exit any longer. Had he turned around? There wasn’t space enough to turn now, any way he moved he banged into the wall, the panel, shocking himself again and again, in the dark, close space that was small, small, small!

And then, he was there - his Doctor, his Julian, the sweet scent of him rolling over his tongue and his so’c, that unmistakable taste that he had missed for so long, that no changeling would ever be able to duplicate. He was babbling, he knew it, but all he could focus on was clinging to the dear man’s arm as he led him out of that terrible hole.

Light, and air, sweet and cool. The good Doctor laid him down on one of the cots, wrapped him in a blanket that carried his comforting scent, and a vague time passed where all he could manage was to keep his breath coming deep and even, and focus on the increased space available in the barracks.

For the rest of the day, he couldn’t quite manage to allow himself back into the passageway. Once, Bashir caught him staring guiltily at the panel that covered the entrance, and he came over and sat with him on the cot and wrapped his arms around Garak’s shoulders and held him until his trembling stopped. If he had had enough resolve left within him to protest, it would have been outrageously embarrassing, but as it was he only leaned into the touch and tried to ignore the presence of his fellow prisoners as they were politely trying to ignore his own.

When it was close to time for the evening meal, the Klingons shared a look between themselves, and the Romulan glanced his way before nodding. With the still-silent Breen, they filed out towards the cafeteria, leaving him alone with the good Doctor for the first time since before he’d been abducted. “My dear,” he said wryly, “I do believe we’ve been abandoned.”

“More like granted some privacy,” Bashir confirmed. “I thought it might be easier, tonight, if it was just the two of us for a while. Martok has some friends in another barracks, and with the other Cardassian prisoners gone there’s plenty of space to go ‘round.” He came and put his hands on Garak’s scalp and collarbone, checking his pulse where the scales were thinnest as he must have learned to do for Tain, and Garak allowed it for a moment before turning to rest his forehead against the other man’s chest. Bashir, in turn, pulled him closer and stroked his dark hair.

“I’ve missed you,” Garak said quietly. “I was certain you had died, or were so far beyond where I could ever get to you that you may as well have.”

Bashir stilled for a moment, then hugged him hard and sat down beside him. “You would be the one to see through my double, wouldn’t you? How… how did you know? That it wasn’t me? And why didn’t you tell the Captain?”

A bitter laugh. He leaned close to Bashir’s ear and made an exaggerated show of sipping the air around him. “My dear, I am ashamed that it took me several days before I could be sure. I’ve spent enough meals with you that your scent and taste is as familiar to me as my own, but living in your quarters allowed enough of it to stick to the changeling wearing your face that at first I wasn’t certain what I was perceiving.” A lie, of course; he had spent enough time in his quarters late at night, conjuring the memory of the good Doctor’s scent, that it was far more than merely familiar to him. “When I was all but sure, I simply asked if my favorite customer was ready for that new suit we had discussed before your trip.”

Bashir’s skin had flushed an attractive, deeper gold color at the mention of how he tasted, but now he laughed and shook his head. “And I’m guessing he didn’t bring Kukalaka down to your shop the next morning? That’s fantastic. Saved by a stuffed bear. Captain Sisko will love that.”

Garak turned slightly away. “I’m sure that he will.”

A hand on his shoulder. “But Garak, why didn’t you tell someone? Who knows what sort of damage the Changeling might have done already?”

“Do give me some credit, my dear - my computer skills aren’t limited to those in miniscule corridors. I kept a lookout for any anomalies I could find. I dare say Odo himself couldn’t have done a better job, though I’m sure he’ll claim otherwise on our return. And besides,” Garak sighed, “If I revealed the Changeling, who knows if they would have kept you alive? I couldn’t risk it. Much better to observe it, until I could find a way to bring you home.”

“Garak, that’s — the entire quadrant is in danger! How could you possibly justify risking that, all of that, for just one —” Bashir raked his hands through his already-disheveled hair, and Garak felt his pulse start to quicken again, his instincts speaking more clearly and more freely now than they had even in the tiny passageway.

“I’ve already told you!” he exclaimed, turning back and placing his hands brazenly on either side of the Doctor’s neck, thumbs moving to caress the short stubble that decorated his jawline. “Sentiment, my dear Doctor, my sweet and beautiful Julian, is the greatest weakness of all.”

And then he kissed him.

In all of the nights he had spent imagining, he had been wrong, wrong, wrong. Julian’s scent around him, the taste of him on his tongue, the feel of him under his lips, it was so much better than he had ever dared guess. He had started to pull back in surprise, and Garak felt his heart plummet, but then he was being kissed back with a ferocity that matched his own. Julian was warm beneath his hands and his mouth,

[WORDS GO HERE, THEY SIT ON BED]

The scrape of stubble against his cheek made him growl as Julian pressed a line of sharp bites along his aural ridge, until he felt soft lips brush against him, and the whisper of a beloved voice.

“Elim Garak, if you let yourself get captured just so you could kiss me—”

Now that was a delightful thought. “You'll what?”

“— I shall… well, I’m going to let you, clearly, but I’ll be very cross about it later!”

A pleased hiss escaped his throat. “As much as it pains me to admit, my dear, I’m afraid even I’m not quite that much of a romantic. As delicious as you are,” his hands slid over Julian’s sides and under the hem of his uniform top, “I much prefer scenarios with a greater chance of survival.”

“I have every faith in your abilities, Garak,” Julian said. “Especially with the promise of a proper bed at the end of it.”

He looked down at the plain cot they sat on. “What exactly qualifies this one as improper?”

“Only what I plan to do to you in it, I should think.” Julian gave him a predatory smile, and pulled his shirt up and off. His chest was starkly minimalist, decorated only by a few soft bits of fur and two small, round nipples. Garak felt a bit adrift without the familiar roadmap of scales and ridges, but the subtleties of hue more than made up for it - even with a month spent in such terrible conditions, the doctor’s skin glowed a lovely bronze, flushing red on his cheeks and chest. His body radiated heat like a furnace, and he’d known they were warm but this was wonderfully akin to a Cardassian sauna, and he could have lain in contentment against him for hours… were it not for a few other pressing concerns.

“My darling exhibitionist,” he said affectionately, then tilted his head coquettishly to the side. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised to find you celebrating your victory with the battle yet unfought. Tell me, Doctor, are you this impatient in all your romantic encounters, or have you simply been too long without pleasant company?”

“Oh no you don’t,” His smile was radiant, his fingers were quick, and he’d undone half the latches on Garak’s tunic already. “Now you’re just trying to pick a fight. Don’t think I haven’t noticed how uncharacteristically honest you’ve been with me since you got here.”

He pressed a kiss to Garak’s chufa, and pressed his forehead against it before speaking softly. “Which means quite a lot to me, you know. Even without all this.” A few more heartbeats passed as they simply held each other close, before Julian’s lip twitched into a smile. “But also it has been a very lonely month. And don’t you ‘Doctor’ me, Elim.”

“Oh, you don’t have to tell me,” Garak huffed “Your changeling friend might have looked the part, but I haven’t had a truly rousing debate in weeks!”

“I’ll show you a rousing debate…”

“... Really, my dear, it’s fortunate that you’re so lovely. I can see how you were made salutatorian of that fine federation school of yours with such compelling arguments.”

Warm human hands slipped his tunic and thermal shirt from his shoulders and teased the ridges just above his hips. “My sweet Elim, we’re currently prisoners of war bunking six to a room with no promise of tomorrow, the only real comfort I can offer you is physical, and you kissed me first. Now, may I please suck your cock?”

Well.

Ahem.

“I suppose if that sweet mouth of yours is going to be useless for arguing anyway…” Garak said, aiming for lofty but landing somewhat closer to breathy. Julian kissed him hard,

[EYYY IT’S COCKSUCKING TIME]

#writing #ds9 #partial wip #look I can write smut OR be serious in my notes I can't do both #garak claustrophobia fic

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