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165 posts tagged Space boyfriends

postcanon garak/parmak!!! (3 sentence fic thingy <3)

Forgiving Garak is a conscious decision, one he makes for his own peace of mind long before Cardassia is destroyed, and one he admittedly makes when he fully expects never again to be confronted with the man who ruined his life. When, as what Terrans might call Sod’s Law kicks in, he inevitably is and spends the next few hours vibrating out of his skin and trying not to scream, it’s a decision that’s a little hard to stick to – but Kelas Parmak is a tenacious man and Garak is not just a colleague in the effort to rebuild their world but also (and more importantly) a patient, so he grits his teeth and does his best.

Somewhere among the rebuilding and the chaos, between the hallucinations and the hyperventilation and the slightly-clumsy honesty Garak manages to offer up despite force of habit even while lucid, though, he finds he’s made an unconscious decision, too – one that ought to worry him a great deal more than it does, but as he looks into those eyes (his eyes, his eyes) and realises that he trusts this man, this murderer-torturer-liar, not just with his life but with the fate of their entire world, he can’t bring himself to feel anything less than wonderful.

Garak and Bashir and Parmak

Asked by Anonymous

Julian has shared a bed with more than one person before, of course, in situations romantic and platonic and not-exactly-either, and has never dreamed of using the phrase ‘three’s a crowd’, but it’s usually been a larger bed than this, and it hasn’t been on Cardassia in the summer, and it definitely hasn’t usually been with a pair of Cardassians, who are – even taking into account the malnutrition on Cardassia since the Dominion War, and the fact that Parmak is relatively slender for a Cardassian – built like tanks. Julian is, at the risk of sounding a little melodramatic, fucking dying, and he articulates this (through a mouthful of Parmak’s usually-beautiful-but-right-now-really-goddamn-annoying hair) a few times, at regular intervals, between the hours of dawn and ten past dawn, in the hopes of assistance in extracting himself from the hell that is being crushed under a sheet between two large lizards (whom he loves very much, etc, obviously) on a pallet bed in at least 40 C heat.

Finally, Parmak – angel that he is! a thousand blessings on his soul! – takes mercy with a grumble and slips out of bed in the direction of the kitchen, and Julian takes a moment to spread out on top of the sheet and relish being able to breathe… at least for the few moments until Beloved Husband #1 returns, accompanied by undignified snickering from Beloved Husband #2, which is – alarming, actually, and Julian opens his eyes just in time to see Suddenly A Whole Lot Less Beloved Husband #1 upturning a tray of ice-cubes over him, and he only just has time to scream.

A Late Lunch

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“I do hope you’ll forgive my tardiness, Doctor,” Garak declared, taking a seat across from Bashir at the table. “I just had a most unpleasant conversation with a silk merchant.”

Julian set aside the fork he had been using to pick at his food. “Not at all Garak! I hope it hasn’t put you in too foul a mood.” 

“On the contrary! We were able to agree upon a most reasonable price toward the end,” he reported. “My bargaining techniques were not to his liking however. He proceeded to cast aspersions upon my entire lineage.”

“Your entire lineage?” Julian chuckled, “That sounds like quite an undertaking. Or did he just say “your entire lineage”?”  

“‘All the filthy and lowly lizard people who came before you’ I believe were his exact words. Quite an imaginative individual, I must say. He tried to convince me the increased price of his merchandise was due to greater overhead.” His eyes traveled his surrounding before leaning over the table to whisper, as if sharing some great secret. “I have it on very good authority that the dabo tables have been anything but kind.”

“Greater overhead?” Julian took a few bites. His brow furrowed ever so slightly at the change in subject. “I think the dabo tables are only very rarely kind.” 

“Bad decisions are all part of business, Doctor. But I had no desire to foot the bill, so to speak. His wife happens to be a regular customary. I may have implied his activities and bad luck could easily come to her attention should he insist upon overcharging me.”

Blackmail? Or just ‘part of business’?

Julian smiled around his fork. “I imagine he was quite reasonable after that?” He had caught up again and he could only imagine how much Garak had frightened the poor merchant. 

Quite reasonable,” he echoed with a self-satisfied smile. “He even went so far as to offer me a discount on furture orders. How very generous of him.”

“Extremely generous,” Julian agreed suppressing a grin. 

Garak took advantage of the natural lull in the conversation to switch topics. He gestured to his companion’s plate. “Tell me, Doctor. I’m interested in trying something new today. Would you recommend it?”

“Oh well um,” Julian glanced down at his plate, “Well, I quite like it I suppose. Though I know brussels sprouts have a fair bit of infamy surrounding them.” 

“An infamous food,” he proclaimed, delighted. “How could I not try it after such an interesting description?”

A quick trip to the replicator later, he reseated himself at the table with a similar plate. The aroma wafted up under his nose. “I do hope they taste better than they smell.”

Julian held his hands up in surrender. “I make no promises nor did I ever make endorsements.” Julian really had no idea if Garak would like it. He loved them but he knew full well he was in the minority. 

Garak speared a half, placed it in his mouth, and nearly gagged. “‘Infamy’ hardly begins to cover it, Doctor. ‘Poisonous’ would be far more appropriate.”

Julian did his best to suppress a fit of giggles. “I did warn you!” he reminded him. 

“It was inevitable that you would try to kill me, Doctor. I never suspected you would be so straightforward about your methods,” he mercilessly teased with a glint in his eye.

Julian grinned from ear to ear, only just suppressing the urge to bounce happily in his seat. “I promise to try harder next time.” 

“I have but one request.”

“Oh? And what might that be?” Julian tilted his head in curiosity as he stole a bite from Garak’s plate. 

“When you do finally plan my demise, allow me a simple pleasure. I would very much like to see it coming.” Garak’s tone is serious but a smile still graces his face.

Julian narrowly avoiding the choking on the bite he was chewing. “I-I’m sorry?” 

“Would you care for the remainder of my plate? I would hate to see them go to waste.” He slide his uneaten meal toward the doctor, hopeful he would accept the gesture.

Julian nodded. He took a bite as proof, chewing it slowly as he rolled the comment around in his mind. The first step was just parsing out whether or not it was a joke.

Garak rarely gave him enough time to fully contemplate the prospect. This afternoon was no exception. “Any further recommendations? I find myself with lovely companionship but distinctly lacking in lunch.”

Julian tapped his fingers against the table as he tried to make the wave of possibilities in his mind a more manageable queue. “I’m not really sure… Frankly I have enough trouble picking out my own lunch,” he added with a laugh. 

“Then perhaps you will indulge me, Doctor,” Garak suggested. He left the table once again and returned with two new meals, steaming hot and piled high with Cardassian vegetables.

“I would be overjoyed to introduce you to something new. Surely anything is better than-” He made a rude gesture toward the brussel sprouts.

cemetery-prince:

So I just bought A Stitch in Time by Andrew Robinson, the actor who played Garak, and I knew it was about Garak’s background and about him returning to Cardassia and everything, but oh my god; this is all addressed to Dr. Bashir. This is Elim Garak’s private, personal logs, chronicling his life, and he’s giving it all to Julian.

If I wasn’t already sitting down I would have to sit the fuck down. I’m emotionally lying flat on the floor, this is outrageous, I’m so upset.

vaiyamagic:
“ Julian: W-what?
Garak: Does this holiday often involve assault of the eyes?
Julian: What? The sweater? No, I found it in some old holo-vids of the holiday. I had it replicated. Isn’t it great?
Garak: I was under the impression that this...

vaiyamagic:

Julian: W-what?

Garak: Does this holiday often involve assault of the eyes?

Julian: What? The sweater? No, I found it in some old holo-vids of the holiday. I had it replicated. Isn’t it great?

Garak: I was under the impression that this was a holiday of joy. Is there a ritual where one burns the offending garment?

*random customer walks into the shop* Hey! I like the tunic! Did you make it, Mr Garak?

Garak: *so offended, he’s speechless*

*Random customer asks for one. By the end of the day, half the non-humans on the station want one*

*Garak murders everyone on the station*

*When Starfleet or Bajor comes to investigate, he insists it was a mercy killing*

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’m sorry! I couldn’t resist! (let’s be clear, though; I’m not sorry I drew it, only that I drew it this early. It’s not even Thanksgiving!) The sweater design I found (and altered just a little) by typing “Ugly Christmas Sweater” into Google. It’s, like, the fifth image that popped up.