Chapter Text
Garak desperately did not want to see Ezri. He had less than two months of mandatory therapy left and changing therapists at this late stage just for a month and a bit was…was…frankly, it was terrifying. But he couldn’t let Bashir know that.
“You ready?” the doctor stood at the door to his apartment in the jumper Garak had made for him, his hand outstretched.
How was a tailor to resist? He hummed noncommittally, took the offered hand and left the apartment with him.
In relative silence, Doctor Bashir drove him to Ezri’s office just in the next town. He could see why the doctor liked being treated here—close enough to be accessible, but far enough away so his potential patients wouldn’t know he was also in therapy. It was admirable, he had to admit, even if he was scared stiff of having to open up to yet another therapist. He just hoped the doctor hadn’t noticed how quiet he was being.
“You OK?” Julian asked once they’d parked up.
Uh-oh, that almost sounded sincere.
“Yes, thank you.”
“You sure?”
“What do you want me to say?”
“I don’t know. You’ve just been a bit quiet on the way here. It’s almost as if you’re…oh, I don’t know…nervous or something.”
“I’m not nervous, my dear doctor I assure you.”
Technically, that wasn’t a lie—Garak was way past nervous.
“It’s just that if you were nervous, you could maybe get it off your chest now and I could reassure you that Ezri’s looked after me for years competently and compassionately and there’s really nothing to be nervous about.”
“I’m sure I’d appreciate that if there were any need for it.”
“I’m sure you would. Come on,” Bashir took Garak’s hand as they exited the car, “let’s go in.”
The doctor’s hand felt so warm and comforting in his as they entered the office of Doctor Ezri Tigan. He must be able to feel Garak shaking but was thankfully classy enough not to comment on it.
“Hi, Ezri,” Bashir greeted jovially, “this is Garak,” he gave his hand a quick squeeze before they sat down on a sofa opposite Ezri.
Ezri seemed young—even younger than Bashir, with dark hair, blue eyes and pale skin. All in all, a great combination of hair, eye and skin colour, Garak thought.
“Hi, Garak.”
“Hello, Doctor.”
“How are you both?”
“Good, thanks,” Julian replied, far too cheerful for a man on a therapist’s couch.
Garak just hummed and plastered a bland smile onto his face.
“Why don’t we start with establishing exactly where you two are in your relationship?”
Garak and Bashir exchanged an awkward glance before Bashir piped up, “we don’t exactly have a relationship.”
“There’s clearly something between you two.”
“Ahem…well…yes…but we haven’t actually…done anything.”
”Done anything?”
Bashir looked like he was about to die of embarrassment.
“He means we haven’t had sex,” Garak interjected.
“Oh, so now you want to talk,” Bashir rounded on him.
“Well, there’s no sense in beating about the bush with childish euphemisms. Frankly, I’m surprised you’re so prudish about talking about sex—you’re a doctor and you’re not exactly short of practical experience,shall we say?”
“Are you seriously calling me a slut? You’re one to talk—Mr I-Use-Sex-As-A-Weapon-So-Much-It-Got-Me-Sentenced-To-Court-Mandated-Therapy!”
“The sex was a very small part of that and you know it. Besides which, it wasn’t exactly successful. Maybe it would have been more so if I were a hot young doctor with a fancy medical degree and legs for days, but no, I had to be a dull, middle-aged tailor whose best days are long behind him!”
“Oh, please! You’re about the farthest thing from dull I’ve ever met with your mysterious ex-spy act and your exotic charm—and how could anyone resist that ‘poor little me’ thing you’ve got going on with your face?”
“That poet did.”
“If I may interject,” Ezri interjected, “it sounds like you,” she indicated Garak, “think he’s better looking than you and you,” indicating Julian, “think he’s a more interesting person than you. Do I have that right?”
“Oh…um…well…maybe…”
“It’s possible…”
“…And you see the best traits in each other but the worst in yourselves.”
“Uh…I guess…”
“Potentially…”
“…So you should both go easier on yourselves.”
“That…might…work…”
“I…suppose…”
“Great! As an exercise, why don’t each of you take turns saying one positive thing about yourselves?”
Garak and Bashir turned to each other for a split second and burst out laughing.
“That attitude is exactly what I’m talking about.”
They stopped laughing.
“I…um…sorry, Ezri.”
“My apologies, Doctor.”
“Why don’t we start with you, Julian?”
“What?”
“What do you like about yourself?”
“Um…my brain, I guess?”
“Your brain?”
“Sure. I’m pretty smart. I mean, I know I only got that way through fraudulent means, but…well, it’s there…and I can use it.”
“Lose the bit about being a fraud and you’re onto something. What about you, Garak? What’s something you like about yourself?”
“I…um…” Garak felt his chest tighten, “I don’t…uh…” Bashir took his hand again, attempting to reassure him, “I…I don’t like this exercise.”
He dropped Julian’s hand and rushed out of Ezri’s office, chest heaving and hands shaking. In the lobby, he desperately looked around for somewhere to hide and ride it out when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
“Garak?”
He spun around, lost his balance and began to fall before he was stopped by a pair of spindly but strangely sturdy hands.
“It’s OK, I’ve got you,” Bashir’s voice cut through his brain fog somehow, “let’s get you sat down here.”
Garak let the cute doctor guide him onto the sofa where he sat with him holding his hands.
“You’ll be OK, just hold onto me. Listen to the sound of my voice.”
“What is wrong with me!?”
“Don’t worry about that right now, just focus on coming back to me.”
“What’s wrong with you!?”
“Lots of things, I’m afraid. We’re quite the pair.”
“Why would you put up with me?”
Why would you put up with me?”
“Because, for some inconceivable reason, you put up with me.”
“It’s not inconceivable, I like you. You’re handsome, intelligent, mysterious…and just messed up enough to be a perfect match for me.”
“You could do better…”
“So could you, but it looks like we’re stuck with each other—if that’s what you want, of course.”
Despite himself, Garak felt the brain fog lifting in the warm presence of his dear doctor.
“We have been sharing a bed for nearly a week.”
“I’m sure I could get you another bed if you want.”
“Who says that’s what I want?”
“Not you, that’s for sure.”
“And not you either.”
“How about we go back home and, um…test out the bed?”
Garak perked up immediately.
“Really?”
“I did say we could after a session with Ezri.”
“That was barely a session.”
“Still counts.”
“Good point. Let’s go…ah, but what about Ezri?”
“Oh, I straightened everything out with her and booked us another session while you were out here.”
“How long was I out here?”
“A good few minutes.”
“Oh, my…”
“Don’t worry about it. Come on, let’s go.”
Bashir pulled Garak up and led him as far as the entrance…where they were met with a familiar gruff, irritated voice.
“I’m warning you, Quark, if you don’t come into this therapy session, I’m sending you straight to prison! Oh…hello, Doctor,” he nodded his head at the doctor, “Garak,” he nodded at Garak.
“I still don’t see why you sentenced me to therapy, I’m perfectly sane—oh, hi, Garak,” Quark nodded his head at Garak, “Doctor,” he nodded at the doctor.
“Hi,” the doctor replied.
“You!” Garak rounded on Quark.
“Whoa, man, what’s up with you?”
“What’s up with me!? You almost killed me, you disgusting little toad!”
Garak launched at Quark but Bashir grabbed him just in time to hold him back.
“Garak!” he snapped as he wrestled with the lunging Cardassian.
“I’ll kill him!”
“Hey, it was nothing personal…” Quark edged backwards like the snivelling coward he was.
“Nothing personal!? ‘It’s the good stuff,’ you said! ‘Just for you,’ you said! You could have killed me!”
“Garak, stop it, it’s not worth it!”
“While I agree with your sentiment, Garak, I must advise you that committing murder in a public place in broad daylight is extremely inadvisable, particularly in front of a judge,” Odo piped up.
Garak calmed down slightly.
“In any event, you may rest assured Quark will suffer considerably for the rest of his living days.”
“Hey! Nobody said anything about the rest of my living days!”
“That’s enough out of you, Quark!” Odo slapped Quark around the head.
“Ow!”
“Oh, boo hoo. Come on, into therapy.”
“Aw, do I have to?”
“Yes!” Odo dragged Quark into Ezri’s office by his ear.
“Well, they’re definitely fucking,” Garak commented, still somewhat heated.
“You don’t say,” the doctor agreed, “speaking of…” Bashir gave Garak a suggestive look, grabbed his hand and led him towards the car.
Garak was fairly sure Bashir broke several speed limits on the way back to his apartment block, not to mention the speed at which he dragged Garak out of the car and up several flights of stairs to the apartment itself. As soon as they closed the door, they pounced on each other, not even waiting until they got to the bedroom before they were kissing and stripping each other’s clothes off.
It should have felt wrong, but Garak couldn’t bring himself to feel bad about it when he had that cute doctor exactly where he’d wanted him all this time. The cute doctor didn’t seem to feel too bad about it either, the way he went at it. He was such a sprite young thing, Garak could barely keep up with him.
Somehow, he managed and they ended up finishing together and lying side-by-side for a very long moment, neither one willing to confront what they’d just done. This was always going to be awkward, but until the moment itself they’d failed to appreciate just how awkward.
“Doctor…”
“About that…”
“…Yes…?”
“Would you mind…calling me Julian?”
“…What?”
“Well…it’s just…if we’re going to be…you know…you should probably use my first name…”
“Oh…well, if that’s how this sort of thing works, I should probably tell you my first name.”
“You don’t have to if you don’t want.”
“This may just be the mental haze talking, but…my first name is…Elim.”
“Elim?”
“Yes, Elim.”
“Elim, as in the guy you supposedly killed or betrayed or whatever.”
“In a way, I did.”
“I can’t even begin to unpack that right now.”
“Don’t. Just…don’t judge me too harshly…”
“Garak…Elim…whether I’m your therapist or not, I’m not here to judge you. I still want to help you.”
“Yes, well, I think the ‘therapist’ ship has well and truly sailed now.”
“It has…but that doesn’t mean I can’t help you. Look, we both know you won’t be living here forever and you’re only legally obligated to see Ezri for another month and a bit and I’m worried once you move back to your own place and don’t have to go to therapy anymore you’ll isolate yourself again and go back to your old ways.”
“You mean taking drugs?”
“Yes—but you don’t have to do that. You probably won’t want to do therapy once you don’t have to, but I can still be your…well, ‘friend’ seems a but redundant at this point, but you know what I mean.”
“Do !?”
“Garak…”
“Oh, all right. If you’re going to insist, I’ll continue to have sex with the most attractive man I’ve ever seen who is just insane enough to like me back. I do wonder how I’m ever going to survive.”
“I’m serious, I don’t want you to run away if I do something to upset you or you feel like we’re moving too fast or whatever. Just…speak to me about it, please. You know you can talk to me, right?”
“I’m so confused as to what I’ve been doing for five-and-a-half months…”
“Garak!”
“What!?”
“I want you to promise me you’ll give…whatever this is…a fair shot and tell me if you have any problems.”
“Alright, Doc—” Julian glared at him, “—Julian…I promise to continue fucking you and tell you about my…feelings.”
“OK, what are you feeling right now?”
“Post-coital haze. Plus, some mild annoyance at being asked about my feelings.”
“I can live with that. Hey, come here,” Julian snuggled up to Garak and wrapped his arms around him.
“What are you doing?”
“Cuddling you. Don’t tell me you’ve never cuddled anyone before.”
“Well…sort of…not quite like this…” Garak awkwardly cuddled Julian back.
“One day, I’m going to figure out what the hell your past is.”
“I certainly hope not. I rather like that you don’t completely hate me.”
“Aw, I could never hate you,” Julian pulled him in and kissed him, “you’ll be OK. We’ll be OK.”
“I certainly hope so.”
Garak snuggled into Julian and felt himself drifting off. He’d never allowed himself to believe it before, but maybe one day, with Julian by his side, he really would be OK.