it's empty in the valley of your heart
Occasionally, I translate fic for fun. Erm, that sounds weird. Anyway!
Title: Warmth
Rating: PG
Words: 777 (for real!)
Notes: This is complete FLUFF. I have no excuses.
Thank you cmere for beta reading, straighting out my English and general cheerleading always! ♥
Warmth
“I feel like I’m the protagonist of a bad federation novel,” Garak said and tried to stop himself from shivering. He felt truly pathetic.
“Oh, really?” Bashir said. “Which one?”
“Hmpf,” Garak said and tried to will his sweater to be warmer, without any success, of course. Damn it, damn it all.
“Did I give it to you last month, maybe?” Bashir said with a slight smile. “Hmpf, you said it was called? What a strange title, I feel like I would remember that one. You know, it sounds kind of Dadaistic. Hey, did the Cardassians have a Dadaist phase? Really Garak, you should tell me about these things.”
“My dear doctor, I think the universal translator stopped working because I don’t understand a word you’re saying.”
Bashir laughed. “Sorry, cultural differences.”
“I’ll say,” Garak said and ground his teeth. Deep Space Nine was chilly enough under normal circumstances, but now it was almost unbearable. Why did the heating stop working again? Did O’Brian cut off a wrong cable? Drop his sandwich into the energy core maybe? Terok Nor should never have fallen into the hands of the Federation.
Space is just too cold, Garak thought. Way too cold. Cardassians weren’t supposed to live here.
“Hey,” Bashir said. “Are you all right?”
“I’m doing splendid,” Garak said.
“It’s okay, you know,” Bashir said and put his hand on Garak’s shoulder. Instinctively, Garak leaned into the warmth. “Miles is working on fixing the heating.”
Yes, Garak wanted to say, please stop fussing, but he could only put his arms around himself, shiver, clench his teeth and think about all the sophisticated pretentious replies that usually spilled effortlessly over his tongue but for some unfathomable reason just weren’t coming right now.
Suddenly there was warmth on his back, his shoulder, and hot breath on his cheek. Bashir hugged him from behind, hugged him, how absurd, how human, and why did it make his heart feel lighter?
“Better?” Bashir asked and laced his fingers together over Garak’s chest. “I could give you one of my sweaters, but I think this is more effective. Don’t you agree?” Garak nodded a little helplessly and felt his eyes burning. Pathetic and sentimental, that’s what he was.
“Is that your medical opinion, doctor?”
Bashir turned him around, gave him a searching look and then laughed softly.
“Oh, doctor,” Garak said, and he was reasonably sure he was going to shatter into a thousand tiny federation fragments. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”
“I think you’re underestimating me,” Bashir said, and every word was a cloud of warm breath on his skin.
“Oh?” Garak said.
“I’m not as naive as you think I am,” Bashir said and kissed him.
Kissing was so strange. Cardassians didn’t kiss. At least Cardassians like Garak didn’t, but Bashir wasn’t Cardassian and didn’t know anything about Cardassians and he kissed him, warm soft lips on his dry ones and it did feel rather good.
“Garak,” Bashir said. He cupped his cheeks with gentle fingers, stroking his thumb over Garak‘s eyeridge. “Garak,” he murmured, and kissed him again. This time Garak closed his eyes, sighed, and his lips opened under Bashir’s. Something in him gave way and he lifted his arms and put them around Bashir’s waist. The kiss was full of warmth and Garak couldn’t bear it anymore. He wanted closeness; Bashir wasn’t close enough and so he held him even tighter.
Bashir laughed softly at that. “Hey,” he said and stroked his fingertips over the scales on Garak‘s skin, under his ears, his shoulders, the back of his neck and touched his nose to Garak’s.
Garak felt a little too old to roll around the floor with an attractive young doctor, so he tumbled them gracelessly onto the couch and pulled Bashir into his lap. With slightly shaky hands he opened Bashir’s uniform and let his hands roam over alien soft skin. Bashir kissed his forehead, his neck and his mouth, again and again.
Sex with humans was weird but wonderful, Garak decided. He hadn’t felt that good in years, and when he came in Bashir’s hands he murmured mindless words of affection into his ear.
For a long time after, he held Bashir close, Bashir’s head on his shoulder, warmth pooling between them.
“Better?” Bashir asked after a while. Garak laughed.
“My dear, I hope this is not your usual treatment for cases of acute hypothermia.”
“Hmm, no, don’t worry. For you I’m coming up with special prescriptions.”
“Good,” Garak said and kissed Bashir, deep and slow, and was almost a little disappointed when with a sudden sharp noise, the heating started working again.
Title: Warmth
Rating: PG
Words: 777 (for real!)
Notes: This is complete FLUFF. I have no excuses.
Thank you cmere for beta reading, straighting out my English and general cheerleading always! ♥
Warmth
“I feel like I’m the protagonist of a bad federation novel,” Garak said and tried to stop himself from shivering. He felt truly pathetic.
“Oh, really?” Bashir said. “Which one?”
“Hmpf,” Garak said and tried to will his sweater to be warmer, without any success, of course. Damn it, damn it all.
“Did I give it to you last month, maybe?” Bashir said with a slight smile. “Hmpf, you said it was called? What a strange title, I feel like I would remember that one. You know, it sounds kind of Dadaistic. Hey, did the Cardassians have a Dadaist phase? Really Garak, you should tell me about these things.”
“My dear doctor, I think the universal translator stopped working because I don’t understand a word you’re saying.”
Bashir laughed. “Sorry, cultural differences.”
“I’ll say,” Garak said and ground his teeth. Deep Space Nine was chilly enough under normal circumstances, but now it was almost unbearable. Why did the heating stop working again? Did O’Brian cut off a wrong cable? Drop his sandwich into the energy core maybe? Terok Nor should never have fallen into the hands of the Federation.
Space is just too cold, Garak thought. Way too cold. Cardassians weren’t supposed to live here.
“Hey,” Bashir said. “Are you all right?”
“I’m doing splendid,” Garak said.
“It’s okay, you know,” Bashir said and put his hand on Garak’s shoulder. Instinctively, Garak leaned into the warmth. “Miles is working on fixing the heating.”
Yes, Garak wanted to say, please stop fussing, but he could only put his arms around himself, shiver, clench his teeth and think about all the sophisticated pretentious replies that usually spilled effortlessly over his tongue but for some unfathomable reason just weren’t coming right now.
Suddenly there was warmth on his back, his shoulder, and hot breath on his cheek. Bashir hugged him from behind, hugged him, how absurd, how human, and why did it make his heart feel lighter?
“Better?” Bashir asked and laced his fingers together over Garak’s chest. “I could give you one of my sweaters, but I think this is more effective. Don’t you agree?” Garak nodded a little helplessly and felt his eyes burning. Pathetic and sentimental, that’s what he was.
“Is that your medical opinion, doctor?”
Bashir turned him around, gave him a searching look and then laughed softly.
“Oh, doctor,” Garak said, and he was reasonably sure he was going to shatter into a thousand tiny federation fragments. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”
“I think you’re underestimating me,” Bashir said, and every word was a cloud of warm breath on his skin.
“Oh?” Garak said.
“I’m not as naive as you think I am,” Bashir said and kissed him.
Kissing was so strange. Cardassians didn’t kiss. At least Cardassians like Garak didn’t, but Bashir wasn’t Cardassian and didn’t know anything about Cardassians and he kissed him, warm soft lips on his dry ones and it did feel rather good.
“Garak,” Bashir said. He cupped his cheeks with gentle fingers, stroking his thumb over Garak‘s eyeridge. “Garak,” he murmured, and kissed him again. This time Garak closed his eyes, sighed, and his lips opened under Bashir’s. Something in him gave way and he lifted his arms and put them around Bashir’s waist. The kiss was full of warmth and Garak couldn’t bear it anymore. He wanted closeness; Bashir wasn’t close enough and so he held him even tighter.
Bashir laughed softly at that. “Hey,” he said and stroked his fingertips over the scales on Garak‘s skin, under his ears, his shoulders, the back of his neck and touched his nose to Garak’s.
Garak felt a little too old to roll around the floor with an attractive young doctor, so he tumbled them gracelessly onto the couch and pulled Bashir into his lap. With slightly shaky hands he opened Bashir’s uniform and let his hands roam over alien soft skin. Bashir kissed his forehead, his neck and his mouth, again and again.
Sex with humans was weird but wonderful, Garak decided. He hadn’t felt that good in years, and when he came in Bashir’s hands he murmured mindless words of affection into his ear.
For a long time after, he held Bashir close, Bashir’s head on his shoulder, warmth pooling between them.
“Better?” Bashir asked after a while. Garak laughed.
“My dear, I hope this is not your usual treatment for cases of acute hypothermia.”
“Hmm, no, don’t worry. For you I’m coming up with special prescriptions.”
“Good,” Garak said and kissed Bashir, deep and slow, and was almost a little disappointed when with a sudden sharp noise, the heating started working again.