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I, Garak	By : CyreliaJ Category: Star Trek > Deep Space 9 Views: 2005 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek or any of its characters. i'm also not making any money off of this.

Chapter List
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Note: Really not much to say except fucking and porn that some people will like and others won't. This may run to 6 chapters god it was only supposed to be 3... Anyway, added some tags for some choking sorta, ass to mouth, and a weird weird amount of Garak and Dukat snipping at each other while Julian's getting reamed. Thanks to everyone who encouraged me to go for it! It's much appreciated. By me that is, not Julian, haha. And your comments as always are much welcome!
   He’s not going to die. Julian finds that thought suddenly, with a strange clarity. A clarity that immediately alerts him to the reality of the situation. Alerts and then dismisses. If he could he might scream. But of course he can’t. He can’t seem to do anything but move his feet towards the door of Commander Sisko’s office with Gul Dukat’s hand pressed possessively to the small of his back. It seems that he feels Dukat’s hand sinking down into his skin, sealing itself around his spine and making him move one step after another with some jerky marionette motion towards his inexorable doom. Dramatic much, Julian? Again that clarity of thought unnerves him. Once he’s this far gone, once he’s started, he’s never left with this much conscious awareness of what’s happening. He almost half wonders if there’s any way to regain control of himself beyond mere thoughts. Regain and then what? His enhanced brain processes anger and humiliation just as quickly as it does the reality of the situation; that being that his death- all of their deaths- have been diverted by the actions that he’s about to take. By the actions that you could’ve taken out there with everyone watching, that is if it weren’t for Garak. Right. Generous that.
   But it isn’t, of course. Elim Garak is not kind. He is not generous. He is, perhaps if Julian were being honest with himself, grown to be more than merely a convenient end to a most inconvenient problem. He may even, if Julian were to be threatened with loss of life or limb, have become a friend, even more than that given the proper circumstances. But all that not withstanding, he is Garak. And being Garak, Julian knows that there’s always an ulterior motive, that there’s always some secondary plan working in that inscrutable Cardassian head of his. Under any other circumstances Julian might even attempt to ferret out that secret. But unfortunately for him that’s not possible. Not at all. That’s a strange realization that is almost implanted right into his head. Of course he’s retained his thoughts. Because he hasn’t fought it, he’s already decided to proceed, to allow. There’s a rather bitter irony there that he swallows down, thinking of all the times to have seen that the way to retain his sense of self was in fact surrender. Ah, God, just bloody shoot me, why couldn’t you have asked those miserable sods who had the nerve to call themselves doctors for a damn instruction manual, father? Chapter one, getting to know your illegal genetic enhancements. Chapter two, don’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. Because he knows that conscious is fleeting, that any action to the contrary of that genetic urge to submit, to bow, to beg, will surely result in any rational thought being tamped back down to nothing. It may very well play out that way in the end for all he knows and as they situate themselves awkwardly, he wonders if that wouldn’t be such a bad thing after all.
            Why are you looking at me? Julian sees Garak’s eyes on him, aware that the Starfleet uniform is half hanging off. He wants to pull it right back up. No, no you don’t anyway because it’s hot, you’re hot in here, you’ve been steadily burning up since this morning and- And just like that he wants to take it all off. That’s what Dukat wants. That may even be what Garak wants. Want me… Yes, that’s exactly what Julian wants right now, that thought neatly turned as easily a few swiftly altered lines of cerebral coding. It would be fascinating if he weren’t the subject of his very own nightmare sex thesis. He wants Garak to want him. He wants to turn back time and take a different assignment entirely, or even tell his well meaning, self serving father to go hang he’ll be just fine being a little bit slower than the rest. But here is where he is, and here he sees Garak still watching him almost warily. Can you see it? Can you see that I’m- Julian opens his mouth to speak but finds that stick stuck in his throat, knowing that it will be all but useless. Not unless they’re words conducive to that drive, conducive to being mounted by the Alpha male staring him down with what Julian has come to know as Garak’s repressed calculated lust.
            Stop looking at me… That’s what he wants to say. Because Garak doesn’t seem to realize that whatever secondary reaction Dukat’s proximity is causing, with the shift in the circumstance, it’s nothing compared to the memory of his body, to that visceral and immediate bodily imprint of Garak’s cock driving into him. It’s nothing but a faint shadow compared to Garak’s larger body covering him, hands holding his wrists, his thighs, cursing, damning him for forcing such a loss of control and- Julian gasps when there’s a hand cupping his ass below the uniform, squeezing flesh hard, not seeming to waste any time. He almost feels like it’s Garak that’s touching him as long as he doesn’t take his eyes off of him it’s so easy to pretend that-
“Perhaps you may have forgotten this small fact in your zeal to cuckold me, Dukat, but you might spare a thought for the time limit that we’re still very much under.” Dukat laughs at that almost disgusted sounding remonstration.
“Such altruism, Garak, such noble concern for the inhabitants of this station. Age must be making you soft. But not all of us have reached an age where time so easily slips away from us.”
“Oh I’m quite aware of the time, Dukat. Just as I’m aware that you have an hour and forty minutes to claim some primitive victory over me so by all means.” Garak waves a hand at them both, making a show of pulling out the chair leaned against the wall to the right of the doors. “But if you think that I’ve any intention of watching you-”
            “Watch…” Julian doesn’t realize the words come from his own mouth until it’s his voice that he hears and he has no idea why he… Oh… Oh God, yes. There’s a certain intensity that Garak fixes him with unintentionally or not that makes that heat bring itself back to the forefront of his thoughts, licking flames up his body, Dukat’s hand questing, wandering, pushing his shirt up, something else down, some tangle of clothes. Julian shivers and assists in that disrobing, not for Dukat, but for Garak who continues to look, nostrils flared with the renewal of that musk, of that desire that fills the room. Don’t... look... at me...
“Yes, Garak, watch. You wouldn’t want to disappoint your little pet any more than you already have, would you?” Dukat’s voice so close to his face makes him turn, those urges a strange center split as there is clearly a strong, powerful male in front of him ready, wanting, desiring him while the one who’s fucked him, claimed him over and over sits there watching. Julian steps out of the uniform, the shirt having been tugged, ripped, discarded to some place or another, leaving him in nothing but the blue shorts riding low on his hips, hiding little under normal circumstances but hiding absolutely nothing now.
            “Well then by all means, why don’t I just make myself comfortable,” Garak says taking a seat with a grand bow. “Or is this the part where I’m supposed to beg you not to defile my dear Julian?” Julian looks down, turning away, back to Dukat standing behind him feeling almost irritated with his attitude.
“Get comfortable, Garak. I promise you’re going to be there awhile. Maybe you’ll even learn something.” Julian sees Dukat’s eyes roaming over his body as he speaks. He sees the darkening of scales, smells that heat mingling with the residual memory of Garak’s and he almost shivers.
“I don’t imagine so if the rumors are to be believed, but I’ve never put much stock in gossip. I couldn’t possibly say, believe Athra Dukat having relations with the help while her husband was on away missions. That would be unthinkable for a man with your professed vigor.”
“How like you Garak to fall back on slander when the rest of you proves inadequate.” Julian ignores them both as they continue, hands to the waistband of those undergarments so quickly that he’s almost surprised to see them there on that blue fabric. They were the small body hugging shorts Garak liked to see him where when he was too gone to care about his own modesty. Julian supposes that they’re still better than the awful black and white tuxedo thing his friends dared him to streak through the halls in back at the Academy. Garak says he looks stunning in them. Stunning is not the word he would use for the way his erection bends around in that tight fabric, strains, pushes, until it creates a ridiculous tent, damp at the front.
            “So eager, aren’t you?” Dukat rasps as hands, seeming to tremble with anticipation go to the fastenings of his own trousers. No. Hell no. If you think that I would ever-
“Yes sir,” is what comes out breathlessly. Julian snaps his mouth shut the moment he says it. Dukat clearly revels in that address and Julian has no idea where it even came from. But somehow he knew what would excite Dukat the best. Yes, there’s your genetic enhancement Julian. Can’t read people worth a damn but you know instinctively to call him sir, to argue with Garak, how to look, how to move... Because he isn’t supposed to think. He isn’t supposed to care about such higher pursuits. Waste of time.Right. He’s supposed to be on his knees before the Alpha, before Dukat, before Garak, before any male who triggers that pheromone. Yes! Comes the ecstatic acceptance of that purpose as Julian tugs his underwear down, turning until he faces Garak. There’s a quick coquettish smirk, his eyes flitting upwards as he bends at the waist. Garak watches him with that faint hunger. Julian responds with a slow sensual wiggle, drawing it out, his hearing picking up the increased respirations from both men. He steps out, carefully balanced, hands brushing the ground easily and just for Garak he lets the tips of his fingers tease his ankles as he remembers how Garak loves to bend him so impossibly and fuck him hard. Julian can feel them watching, wanting, and that human ego cannot help but revel in the attention, the desire. Yes... watch... wantneed...
            Julian has always enjoyed attention, praise, eyes on him, people telling him that he’s good, doing a good job, smart, attractive worthy… And that invasive intruder that’s part of his makeup feeds on that need, uses it, twists it to the Julian now that steps out of that scant fabric, nude where the other two are clothed, vulnerable, needy, desperate to please, receive pleasure, pain, whatever will satisfy them. He loves it just as he hates it. And perhaps if you were stronger it wouldn’t be so easy for that animal, it wouldn’t be so easy to let it control you. It’s an odd revelation coming to him in an even more inopportune moment. Fat lot of good it does now. Shuttup Julian just do it, just- He stands back up, knowing his eyes linger on Garak, linger on the broad shoulders, the strong chest, linger to damn long between Garak’s legs to where that “shamefully everted” cock is so prominent. There’s a small panting breath when he turns around, feeling like he’s facing damnation as he looks into Dukat’s eyes. There’s a possessive examination, tongue tasting air, tasting Julian, a deep breath in like Julian is a drug and that heat within responds in kind. Yesyours... God... please...
            “Come here.” Dukat says that just as he acts, not giving Julian a chance to move. He’s already being pulled close, flush to Dukat’s body, his cock rubbing Dukat’s with a smooth astro glide slip past over that dark gray prick. Dukat’s hands are on his ass again, hips grinding with a slow planetary rotation that makes him gasp swallow soft. Julian’s already analyzing, calculating with that feel, that length to be some average measure that doesn’t come close to comparing to-. Julian bites the inside of his cheek and hates himself for even thinking in such terms. It’s nothing. It doesn’t feel... ah... Good... no... not...
“Oh gaa... ah...” slips past, or better put is forced out from his clenched jaw and Julian knows it’s only the beginning of such humiliation. He moans soft when Dukat’s hands squeeze, knead his ass, holding him almost still some stationary scratching post to scratch the itch of his sensitive cock rubbing til it’s sticky wet hot to Julian’s. His hands knead at Julian’s ass, squeezing hard, spreading his cheeks, pushing them together, a small motion up, around. Julian’s hands are trapped between them not daring to move for fear that instead of pushing back against the hard body armor they’ll reach up, draw close and- And I’d sooner bite off my own tongue before letting it anywhere near Dukat’s mouth. His fingers coil, instead as hie eyes shut, forehead on Dukat’s shoulder as he pants, rocks, hearing breathy words to his ear.
   “Tell me you want me to take you, doctor.”
“Pleaseyes... s...sir pls...”
“Tell Garak there that you want me to fuck you...” Another squeeze, another spread, Julian’s jaw clenched whimper shut when one of Dukat’s fingers teases his hole and-
“Plsfkme...”
“Oh come now, doctor,” he hears Garak encouraging with odd joviality from the side, “surely you can do better than that for this poor old Cardassian’s hearing!”
“Dammit Garak, I-“ He has no idea that emotion bursting forth if it’s even him or not anymore another rock of hips, another reminder that his painfully hard prick is rubbing pressed between their bodies getting worked harder, pulsing with that urge to “I...ha...haaa...” A finger in just a little shallow bit swimming the tip, just one polished nail experimentally to that sensitive hole and Julian steps back one, a little closer, shutting his eyes tightly as he pants out “Please... f... fu... fuck I...” He licks his lips lifting his head back up thinking irrationally that this is entirely Garak’s fault as he watches them there making no move to do a damn thing but make snarky shirty remarks. “Please fuck me, sir,” Julian says, subconscious slave Omega singing praises to the heavens as his legs move in some stiff stilt legged jerk back three steps, four steps with Dukat walking in tandem, almost lifting him off the ground as Julian’s ass hits the desk hard.
            Julian hears the rattle of something falling, turning his head a jerk twist right seeing the baseball roll along the ground. He Looks at Garak to the side back watching intently, eyes dilated, aroused, hands gripping the arms of the chair hard before he seems to think better of it and pulls them away flexing fists with a slow breath in. Don’t look don’t look God why are you still looking he can’t even see you, you miserable rotten lizard I-
Dukat’s hand is grabbing his thigh, hitching it up, driving him into the desk harder, hip undulating slow, purposefully while Julian is unable to look away from the silent intensity of Garak’s stare.
“So responsive, so wanting...”
“A far cry Bajoran slaves that you’re accustomed to, isn’t it?” A hard rock, an almost angry growl, meets that dig. Julian’s hands slip down to the edge of the desk so he isn’t driven backwards. That press of hard cold armor to his chest making him squirm and he can see Garak past Dukat’s shoulder watching them both.
“I wouldn’t expect you to understand that there are some who are just drawn to power, Garak.” Power that’s a trembling hand digging into Julian’s thigh, the other fumbling between them to that hard wet cock, slick, almost shiny fluid sluiced between them, Julian, Dukat, hot sex smell in the breaths panting that air, painting it the darkened brush of heat, that web of precum so warm, sticking to his belly, to his thigh there isn’t a doubt in his mind that Dukat will slide right-
   “You want it, don’t you, you little slut? Tell the traitor there, how badly you want it.” Like a bloody bad case of prostatitis. He feels a clutching chastening though, almost some neurological scolding, pushing him back, that heat lapping back up around him like lave sundering the sinking black ash island.
“Bad... Need... pls...” His eyes meet Garak’s and for a wild moment he feels that plea directed towards the man on the chair, legs spread just a bit wider, hand seeming to catch before it palms that massive erection. “Pls... wantyou... need... inme... sir...” Almost an afterthought spurred by the feel of Dukat’s cock head brushing down, past his sac, shaft rubbing, those ridges teasing until Julian feeling the breath catching tickle turn to his balls drawn up tight. “Pls...” eyes shut because Garak looking at him is going to make him... Yes...watch...need...take...Alpha...God no, no, he doesn’t needs this to turn into some stupid primitive mating dance shit he... Julian’s hand is on his belly, trapping his cock, holding it, hips undulating just a little, pushing that pressure back a hose kinked tight while Dukat is still struggling to quite push it in. There’s a soft curse in there, Julian’s leg hitched higher, a growl, the tip not quite at the right angle to-
   “Did you need help, Dukat? Surely, a man with six children knows how this scene plays out, or perhaps this is not a scene you’re particularly familiar with. I’d love to offer my assistance, but I would just hate to intrude where I’m not wanted.”
“You’re right, Garak,” Dukat answers far too easily as he lets go and steps back. “Where are my manners, surely you’d want a better view than that.” Pant hiss pant, Dukat strokes himself idly, swollen prick wet and ready while he looks between Julian’s neck and his spread legs. That sex smell slides into Julian’s olfactory senses with a ferocity that makes him bite his lip just a little to try and hold that needy Omega self back. That pain only intensifies that lust, that longing, seeing that shaft swell just a micrometer, he swears it seems to, and it makes his mouth start watering, tat extra salivation hard to contain when he’s already breathing so hard.
“It’s these old eyes of mine, Dukat. They have such a difficult time focusing on things that are small.”
“Believe me, Garak. I’ve no problem making your pet scream without some vulgar peasant organ.”
“Your cultural ignorance is blaring clear as the cry of a Regova, Dukat. Didn’t you know that amongst humans this “vulgar peasant organ” is held in rather high esteem?"
   Dukat’s response is another growl as he seems to catch Julian’s dark eyed lusty stare to Garak’s challenge. Garak sees it as well, that familiar smirk ghosting over his face.
"Isn't that right, Julian?" Yesmeinyes... And he doesn’t know if it’s that familiarity or some other strange esoteric criteria that his animal self finds lacking in Dukat besides the obvious size draw, but he can feel that desire pull back wildly to Garak lets go of his pink bitten lip and smiles. You're an unrepentant instigator but damn you, you're right. And that’s when Julian sees that gregarious facade of Dukat’s slip for the final time, a rough tug of his hair yanking him from the desk, his arms automatically flailing out to steady himself. He’s practically thrown in front, right in Garak’s line of sight directly, catching his hands on his thighs..
“Turn around.” He already is but he remains silent. It’s not a polite request, not that jovial mockery, but the command of Gul Dukat back on Terok Nor, back in control of everyone there. The Omega rises to that, overshadowing that familiar Alpha, Garak, head nod nodding fast.
“Yes... yes sir...” He agrees.
   “Good. You learn quickly. I can see why Garak keeps you around.” There’s a smack to his ass, hard, lingering grab of flesh to that sensitive spot and Julian swallows a moan. Dukat's has a hand on the back of his neck snaking around until Julian is forced to take a step back, bowed just a bit as that hand encircles his throat. He doesn’t squeeze, but rather keeps that hold firm, threatening, just too damn good and Julian can feel that tightening when he swallows, that command cause a hostile takeover of his body, his senses, as he feels the teasing slide of Dukat's cock up and down the crack of his ass.
“Yess... pls... pls...” yesgodfuckplease... He’s staring right at Garak thinking those filthy thoughts, feeling Dukat tease, slip in, out, that length shorter but nearly as thick starting to ready him, open shut, his hole trying to such that prick back until he’s buried as deep as Julian can take it. Julian’s hand is on the inside of his thigh, the back of it rubbing against the side of his cock, dark flushed deep mauve bobbing, trembling, wanting him to stroke it fast, fisting til he comes.
   But he’s trained better, Garak, Alpha training him not to play, not to reach pleasure until he does. But it isn’t Garak. That thought courses obviously, but with that awareness marrying the base Omega alien brain. It's not Garak. His body doesn't care that it's not Garak. The animal doesn’t care except for now that it senses the same rules don’t apply, and he feels an odd almost ecstatic feel married tot he far more higher brained concept of spite. But that isn’t what holds. He finds his thoughts overtaken, overwhelmed, that hissing growl, that primal taunt as Dukat enters him slowly, so much more slowly that that fury, that need would call for. Julian's body tries to move, tries to meet that hot sinking length only to find the hand that holds his neck holds him tight, steady, the other to his hip now that he's- as far as Julian can estimate- half seated, half in, halfway to screwing every last remaining bit of sense out of Julian's head.
"Nothing smart to say now, Garak?" Dukat rasps out, that viscous thick precum dribbled down his cock, Julian's hole clenching him so tightly it's squeezed til it pools at the base, already running down the inside of his thighs. Julian releases that pressure, toes curling underneath him no the hard floor unable to stop the "ysysys..."that's thrown from his vocals, Garak watching, an inscrutable study all of a sudden.
          Julian wants nothing more than to throw his arm up to cover his eyes, his face which is surely nothing but some stitched together lustful mess. He wishes Garak would stop looking at him like that; he's not even sure if it's because of his shame or because those eyes hold so much promise that it's only heightening the heat in his belly to unbearable levels. There's some stifling barometer raising high pressure push, fuck in out that he can feel starting with a tilt rock of Dukat's hips. Still slow, still too damn slow as Dukat work in deeper and deeper like some interstellar mining barge with all the time in the world. But it isn’t gentle, it isn’t consideration, it’s punishment, that forced wait, that fat prick thrusting just two tics shy of what he needs. Julian wants him to move. He wants him to pound hard, punish that dirty part of him, pour it in until he stops thinking about bloody Elim Garak watching him like he's already buried inside. But he doesn’t.
   And it's not Garak- but in that moment it feels like him and to his utter humiliation, Julian's hips respond harder, body pressed back as Dukat toys with his neck, breath to his ear in, out, hot, heavy right there begging him to just move.
"You like that, don't you, Doctor..." Dukat breathes to his neck, tasting, biting, nails scratching sensitive skin and Julian swears that he sees Garak nodding some indefinable criteria having been met as he seems to hide a smirk, head turned from Julian a moment to some point of the ceiling.
"Ah... ha... haa... yyy...sss...." That mesh of sound tangling along the path from thought to tongue, Julian whimpering as he feels Dukat shift his angle, keeping him steady as his knees nearly buckle beneath him with a sudden hot hard lance piercing, thrusting up into him and right now it's doesn't matter that it's not the same. Yesmoremore… That hand on his neck remains, groping, squeezing until he’s certain there will be bruises left by those strong fingers. He nearly chokes himself with that drive to shove back, forward, draw that cock in as deep as biology will allow and then some.
   “Yes... just like that... Guls... so tight...” Words a rush of some alien poetry pinging in his head each breath making Julian start to cry out in response louder, begging Dukat in earnest to fuck him harder. One of his hands drops to Dukat’s hip, pulling him closer, deeper, some quantum time stop changing to a sadistic slowing, pulsing, a control that he’d never felt as it seems to swell to bursting, Dukat’s fingers almost choke him as he breathes, grunts, bites the skin of Julian’s sensitive neck, drawing it to his mouth as he rocks into him. Julian doesn’t stop looking at Garak, taking hold of his prick, jerking, tugging hard, faster two fingers making a flurry of motion and he can feel himself clench, feel himself almost lift up on the ball of his toes torn between fucking his own hand and fucking himself on Dukat’s cock. And then he feels it, finally picking up harder, faster, Dukat’s fingers finding their away away from his neck to his open mouth. He sucks them eagerly, imagining for one filthy second, Garak’s prick forcing his lips open wider, fucking, sucking, riding or- “Get a good look Garak. See him writhe on my cock, see him beg me, see him suck me.”
   Garak one twitch from shifting in his seat, hands curling on the arms of the chair as he looks at Julian, barely seeming to remember that Dukat is in the room takes that moment to yawn. Dukat takes Garak’s unusual reticence as some sort of victory with another thrust, another hard rut of his hips, the body armor hitting Julian’s back when he pulls him too close but Julian doesn’t care. The sounds descend to nothing but the slap of flesh, the suck pop gasp of his mouth on Dukat’s fingers, and the grunts behind him. Julian can feel that vortex pulling him into a whirlwind of primitive lust, emotion, that Omega self pulling him along unwittingly as Dukat turns to Garak declaring his intent to release, to mark what’s not his and buried balls deep Julian’s head is a jerky pleading nod to do just that the last vestiges of his rationality begging Garak silently to stop looking at him. Julian closes his eyes finally, blessedly, that plunge into the darkness making him feel nothing but hands, but cock, as he gives in and hisses through his teeth some pleading nonsense to come in him.
            Except Garak doesn’t remain silent for long. There’s a pause that’s perhaps only a fraction of a count but those newly quickened thrusts stretch that moment to some atomic eternity. Until Garak’s voice cuts through that curtain, drawing Julian’s attention with its dark purr. But only Julian seems to recognize that tone for the trap that it is.
“Sucking you? Perhaps you’re not as worldly as I’d heard, Dukat, if you think a few fingers in a human’s mouth would constitute what they consider proper “sucking”. Julian feels the still of Dukat behind him, some intrigue in his tone as his attention shifts to Garak. Julian catches his breath, not quite sure if his face is obeying his command to make an expression of surprise. Likely not. What are you doing? What are you saying to him?! Why do you think I would ever want to-
“You’re telling me they put it in their mouths?” The way he says it, Julian has some strange manic vision of his Aunt on Earth a hand to her chest in some matronly affect of shock. No they don’t, Garak I don’t know what you think you’re doing but if I’m supposed to be yours then-
“It’s one of their charming points,” Garak concurs and that anger is ebbed away to the memory of his mouth on Garak’s cock greedily sucking him, swallowing him, choking himself on it to take as much as he can. “But I would advise again, caution for the time and for the poor Doctor’s dignity.” There that dignity word again, and just as Julian realizes exactly what the hell Garak’s game is, he feels Dukat let him go and slip out, a hand squeezing his shoulder.
   No, he cannot possibly... you didn’t... Looking up to the bloody security camera is exactly what that rotten scheming lizard has been doing this entire time with his goading, with that careful affront, with that smile. He remembers Rugal, everything he’s learned of Cardassians and their schemes and their damn blackmail Julian nearly hisses at Garak until that anger wraps itself back into some internalized ball, trash compacted and ejected into space. The animal won’t allow that. And in fact, those emotions, those strong driving anger lust impulses are so neatly intertwined that it only adds to his lust, his desire, that need to do exactly what it is they clearly want. Pleasuresuckneedpleasewant.
“Yesss… pls… lemme…” Julian turns, cranes his neck, feeling fingers scrape over his skin as he looks into Dukat’s eyes knowing exactly what the base thought is. “Please sir... I want to...” Clearer spoken speech which belies the cyclone of swimming sex thoughts. Suck it, make it bigger, make it harder, make it wetter, ready…
   If he was capable of any embarrassment any longer where those thoughts were led that one might do it, if for nothing else than the sheer lunacy of that biologically impossible nonsense. But he’s not. he isn’t. Julian shunted back and away to some dream fuck haze, dropping to his knees in front of that profligate despot, hands going to thighs, fingers curling into the thick fabric of trousers. Julian looks up panting, needing, not daring to glance at Garak. Watch me... No... don’t look... Those two thoughts clash. Julian can still feel Garak’s eyes on him anyway. At least he imagines that he does. He can feel his heart beating faster, can feel his internal temperature forced to rise taking clinical note as it hits ninety nine.
“You want that, Doctor? You want that you dirty human slut? You want my cock in your mouth?” There’s a hand to his head, soft, light, as if Dukat were petting a dog. That husky amusement is obvious.
“Such language, Dukat. As the humans would say, do you kiss your mother with that mouth?”
“Garak,” Julian surprises himself by speaking with that calm, clear voice. He could almost slap the taste out of his own mouth as he lightly strokes Dukat’s thighs through the fabric. “Shuttup.”
   He takes a deep breath, some giddy half drunk feeling coursing through him and now he does catch Garak looking at him. Julian holds his attention seeing that Garak is silent when their eyes meet. I know, Garak. Remember that. Whatever that’s worth.
“Shall I lick it clean, sir?” Julian asks again in that odd voice that sounds so terribly much like him but very much is not. He wishes it would stop. He hates hearing himself speak that way but that again is brushed aside as his mouth hovers just at the tip, daring Garak to keep watching. He turns his head back looking out of the corner of his eye, seeing every breath drawn in the closer his mouth moves, the closer his hand moves. Julian feels warm, feels Dukat hands to the side of his face making his eyes flutter like the faint hum of an ionic fan.
“Yes, clean it, human,” Dukat says, still that hint of wonder as if he can’t quite believe that Julian is really going to take that length, suck, swallow the prick that was just buried in his ass. How little you know, Dukat, I happen to like the taste of my own ass. He didn’t say that. He didn’t think it. Never ever. Not-
   “Mmmm...” It emerges with a slow swell, pushing through his hand, slick, hot and his mouth is pressed to that tip greedily. Julian hears the hiss above him, as that hand slips in its tenderness to a scratch of nails off his face, down his neck. Yes… yesgodyes… It’s the second time today that he has that taste in his mouth, salty, musky, but this time it isn’t Garak’s mouth-stretching cock but Dukat’s. It’s not the same... Don’tcare... more... There’s just a bitter hint that he tastes, that he swallows down greedily. Julian sucks the tip hard, tongue pressing the glans to the roof of his mouth milking another moan, a tightening of that hand to his scalp this time, picturing Dukat’s eyes half rolling back into his head as he works. Those usually dormant nerves flare back to life even without that length filling him, making him jerk up, imagining that prick pushing him apart once more. No... not those thoughts not... more...
“Yes... yes, Guls, you love that cock in your mouth, don’t you?” Julian’s head jerks up in response, a manic stupid nod of his head as his tongue laps, licks around the ridges of that hard prick, tongue lapping up more of that pre cum coating his length, that salty skin, that memory of Dukat fucking him, that glans splitting his hole open so perfectly...
“Yessir,” that gasp is needy, hatefully so but he can’t help himself. His body doesn’t care already hot, sweating, knowing that room has to be filled with that humid hazy pheromone enveloping the lot of them. He can see it in the way Dukat’s eyes look at him dark and possessive. Julian sucks harder in response.
            There’s another exchange between Dukat and Garak, this time less steady from Dukat, remarking how readily humans put the sacred blossom in their mouths. At least that’s what Julian thinks he says with his limited recollection of the Cardassian language- he isn’t sure that the translator’s “blossom” is quite the right word in this context. Garak points out that Dukat is getting tiresome in his repetitive sex speak. He almost tells him to shuttup again. He needs Dukat to touch him, take him, fuck him hard to save the station! make him come until he can’t stand it any longer. And thinking of Garak only makes it- please... inme... please... And then again his body is in motion ignoring his humiliation, his right hand remaining at the base of Dukat’s shaft squeezing hard, slippery around his spit slurping up down fast, hard, his fist pumping, meeting his mouth with some rough kiss to his forefinger and thumb. But it’s his left that reaches back, that enhanced body balancing, arching back, tempting, silently begging Garak, begging that Alpha that owns him to stop watching and just take him. He has that vision again immediate, pressing, cock in his throat, in his ass, filling him hard til he passes out. Julian’s left hand is an awkward smack to his ass, fingers crawling over that skin, spreading, showing that quivering hole, his middle finger teasing, circling, his cock giving a hot jump jolt in response. He can feel the sway of that heavy hardness thigh to thigh, a mass of dark blood engorged sex swaying back and forth slapping his right thigh in particular.
            Julian pushes that finger in slowly, causing a stop to that suck of Dukat’s prick while he gasps, pants, hot breath a wash over that swollen glans, his saliva exhaled out with that almost choking breath. It’s not enough, not by far, his ass wanting to be fucked again with more than just that digit. He adds a second better, clenching, ass closing around and Julian looks up again as he strokes harder, hearing Dukat’s groans continue. He brings those fingers back to his mouth an unexpressed wince at how he slavers over them without shame, tasting his ass again for just a second, tasting Dukat on his own fingers before pushing them back in, a third, spreading, whimpers rising from his throat.
“Please...”
“Do you want it... again... so badly...?” He hears Dukat gasp that request, Julian giving just a turn back to Garak when he sees Dukat’s eyes almost cloud over when Julian sucks small nipping sucks up the side with a “please”suck”please”suck. Garak looks damn ready to do exactly what Julian needs, mouth opening just enough that Julian can see, can envision that lick of teeth that slight whistle out of breath he only ever sees when Garak is incredibly aroused and doing a poor job of hiding it.
   And Julian pulls his fingers out once more with a long lick, letting Garak see that dirty human debase himself even further. He almost prays to forget this later, not knowing how he’s going to face Garak even with the damn drug tamping this back down. Whatever happens he-
“Please sir...” Yes, please, alien reptilian DNA, please lead me to the deepest depths that my ego can stand. You know how I love it. “...fuck my mouth...” And Bob’s your uncle there it is. Dukat clearly loves it. Julian doesn’t have a moment before Dukat’s feeding him that large swollen cock head between his parted lips, deep, deeper until Julian feels it hitting the back of his throat. He pauses. He waits. Not for Julian, but for some epithet the translator doesn’t even try to make heads or tails of and Julian has only a moment before those hips snap, nearly choking him. But Julian doesn’t even think to breathe, letting himself be moved, used, letting Dukat fuck his mouth roughly, his body rocking some rhythmic metronome, throat nearly screaming out as if it were suddenly as sensitive as the rest of him. He lets that cock pass his lips push push wet mess until he sees spots appearing.
   His hands are on Dukat’s thighs, on the fabric of that uniform still strangely put together beside the part of the fabric that Julian never would have guess was there. He can almost weirdly imagine the stain Garak would lament but leaves that thought as his throat is fucked raw, as his knees scrape the floor, thighs spreading wider unconsciously. That primitive ecstasy prompts him to moan, that tremor of his throat making Dukat pause after a particularly hard thrust, not half as deep as Garak has ever managed but deep enough. He holds there, still, steady panting, swearing, a pulse of pressure, another swelling gradient and Julian almost think it really has gotten bigger. He can feel the ache in his jaw waiting for that release in his mouth, body knowing that it’s coming soon, hot, thick, drizzling down his throat like salted caramel cream rain. Garak likes to release in his mouth. He likes to watch Julian’s mouth filled full, obscenely dripping as he completes with a few hard thrusts, forcing it to spill from his lips. He likes to watch Julian madly slurp it up, tongue cleaning every fold of that slit from where that massive shaft protrudes and then beg him for more. Julian cannot help that conflation in his mind as it occurs, thighs continuing that quiver, wanting to open further, wanting to let either, both, it doesn’t matter as long as he’s-
   “Guls Yes!” roaring that release of semen as Dukat pulls out letting it trail, spurt behind him, seeming endless coating his tongue, his mouth, a few final drips to his lip, on his chest with a few final hissing strokes. Julian licks his lips hotly, blissfully, locking eyes upward hearing Garak rising at last. There’s a wild toss of his head just then, absently sucking the last taste from his fingers waiting, wanting Garak to-
“Well now as... riveting as that was Dukat, I believe Doctor Bashir has nobly held his end of the bargain so if you would-“
“”I’m sorry, Garak,” Dukat says with a thickness in counter to the haughty square of his shoulders. “Did I say we were finished here?”
“Perhaps I misread the circumstances, far be it for me to think you’d any intention of honoring your word however-“
“However the fact remains that we still have considerable time, and I don’t believe the Doctor is completely sated now, is he?”
“The good doctor, as I believe I alluded to before has an illness that leaves him rather unable to make the best decisions at time, obviously. I promise Dukat, I’ll be sure to regale Major Kira with wild tales of your unbridled stamina and sexual prowess.”
   Garak takes a step towards Julian, a slight limp, an obvious painful problem of his own that Julian would almost feel bad for were there not still that part of him that wanted nothing better than to tell Garak to sod off. He expresses that rather eloquently with a cheap come hither smile and a long simmering sweep of his eyes up Garak’s body. Yes, you showed him, didn’t you? But it’s that heated look that reminds him just as suddenly of another heat entirely, that heat being still hard, aroused, wanting the act to be complete, needing that release. And whether it’s Garak or Dukat, that Omega looks to them both.
“Oh you’ll have plenty to tell her, Garak. Because I’m not finished with your vine’Uja yet. Isn’t that right, Doctor?” Julian’s response is a torrid hiss of “yesss” as Dukat’s fingers twine in his short hair, raising him more symbolically from the ground than literally as he’s yanked roughly back to his feet once more.
“Yesssir,” Julian agrees breathlessly catching the flicker of a sour expression crossing Garak’s face before it’s replaced once more with a smile. Garak sits back down once more hard, face about to crack apart any moment.
“Lovely,” Garak remarks glibly, and Julian’s certain he’s never heard a more obvious “fuck you” in his entire life.
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I, Garak