"Oh now," Julian smiled pleasantly. "It has its moments."

"Oh?" The Cardassian's tone was doubtful. "And how could wasting one's savings on a venture most know leads to disappointment and deceit have its moments?"

Bashir snorted ruefully, looking past the tailor's shoulder where a Bajoran was gleefully raking her winnings toward her. "Obviously, some ventures aren't so disappointing after all," he smiled, amused by the tailor's disgruntled look.

"I must say," he sighed at last. "I don't believe you'll ever get me to understand this inexplicable drive to waste money and time on ambiguous venues of entertainment."

Julian quirked his lips in exaggerated thought, assessing his friend with a narrowed eye. "Why Garak ... was that a challenge?" he said brazenly, enjoying the faint look of surprise reach the older man's eyes.

"Challenge, Doctor? What sort of challenge?" he asked, trying pointlessly to avoid any note of vivid interest.

Julian stopped in his track and pointed a long dusky finger toward the wide expanse of the tailor's chest. "I bet you that before tomorrow I'll have you playing and enjoying a good game of poker. Don't worry," he said quickly at the dawning confusion on the tailor's features. "I'll teach you how to play first."

"And what do I gain if I win your bet, my dear Doctor?" Garak wanted to know, folding his arms across his chest as he stared at his friend.

"Nothing," he laughed. Everything. "It's just a simple bet. For fun. Agreed?" he asked, offering his palm. Garak considered it for a moment before slipping his cool hand inside Bashir's.

"Agreed. Still ... the bet would be more entertaining had we something to gain by it," he reminded.

"We'll see when we get there Garak," smiled the young man, an odd glint in his eyes. "Now I suggest you verse yourself with the game before we start. It'll make it simpler for me to teach you, and we'll be able to begin sooner. My quarters okay? Say, 2000?"

Garak nodded, walking away toward his shop as he glanced at the time. "Agreed. I shall meet you then Doctor."

"I'll be waiting," Julian murmured with a smile, locking his hands behind his back as he walked the opposite way toward the infirmary.

Julian was shuffling the cards when Garak arrived at 1959 sharp. He was sitting at a small table, obviously hastily brought together, though it was large enough for both of them to sit casually with elbows slack. As Garak sat down in his seat, eyeing the doctor's movement very carefully, he missed the flickering light in Julian's eyes; a promise of far more enjoyment than a simple game of cards.

"Did you access the computer for the rules?" he asked, neatly separating the pack before rippling through them, stacking them into one with masterly skill. Garak admired for a moment before nodding.

"Yes. I've reviewed the rules, and frankly I don't think you need to teach me any further. The principle is fairly simple. By the way," he added, frowning at Julian's unusual attire. It seems the young man had gone out of his way to cover himself thoroughly. "Why so many layers of clothes Doctor? Are you feeling chilly?"

This met with a burst of almost boyish laughter, and Garak's confusion was increased tenfold. "Did I say something amusing Doctor?"

"No, no not at all," he chuckled, distributing the cards. "It's just, you see, in my haste, I forgot to mention that we were playing strip poker." He laughed again and place the stack away, taking his five cards primly into his dark hands, long fingers fanning over the glossy cards. When his eyes rose to meet Garak's, the confusion hadn't vanished.

"Strip poker?" said Garak through his tight lips, eyes narrowed as though he only now was figuring out he'd been played for a fool. "Does that imply what I think it implies?" he asked, tilting his head questioningly, almost menacingly.

"Oh now, the risks have raised, haven't they? Still, I'll go easy on you, since this is your first initiation to poker. Unless," he looked faintly, mockingly shocked, "unless of course you want to stop. After all, I wouldn't dream of forcing you into something you didn't want to do."

"I thought this was supposed to make me understand the value in playing these silly games," he huffed, picking up his own cards. "Not to humiliate me."

"Why Garak, is there something I should know?" Julian teased playfully. "Like say something you'd be embarrassed to show me?" He laughed gently, biting his lower lip playfully as he studied his hand. Garak growled and did the same, discovering with revengeful delight that he'd already caught two aces. He discarded the remaining cards and waited for their replacements, his eyes examining Julian's intent gaze, the young man's concentration fully on his cards. In the back of his mind, he wondered why Julian would ever submit him to this kind of humiliation. Surely he knew a Cardassian would never bear being nude in the presence of a clothed Human? Such embarrassment. What was Julian thinking? And while there would be nothing more easier than walking out the door without another word, he knew he'd given his agreement, knewthat if he walked out now the embarrassment of his breaking his word would by far outweigh any minor abashment he might be exposed to tonight.

He watched thoughtfully as Julian tossed three cards away, picking up the thick deck to resupply their hands. When the round ended, Garak had already been marked down with one point. He leaned back contentedly, watching as Julian fumbled beneath his shirt, his hands tugging it off easily. He tossed it aside, ran a hand through his hair to smooth it out and settled back. Still two shirts to go, while he knew Garak was only wearing a tunic. He gave the deck to the tailor, tapped it once for luck, and waited with anticipation for the hand that would pry the Cardassian from the single fabric draping his chest.

Unfortunately, that hand did not come until much later, when Julian himself was left with a thin singlet, minus shoes and a layer of socks. Though when he fanned out his cards across the table, it was in one triumphant flourish. Garak sighed and moved to open his tunic. When his fingers touched the clasps, his face turned thoughtful. "You know," he said conversationally, unable to surpress the thin smile at his lips, "It almost seems as though you're eager to see me exposed." His eyes darkened. "Is there some particular reason why you would wish this sort of degradation on me?"

All at once the doctor's features fell. "Degradation! Garak, there's nothing embarrassing about being naked for goodness' sake!"

"Perhaps not for you," he grumbled, unclasping his tunic before draping it behind his chair. When he settled back, chiselled muscles rippled with movement, finally exposing the wide, scaly grey chest Julian had longed to see for so long. Garak being who he was, Julian hadn't had much luck getting the tailor to submit to a routine check-up. He eyed that chest now, trying to chase away the rampant thoughts blazing through his mind. But the tailor's words still echoed somewhere amidst the lustful chaos, and he shook his head.

"Garak ... I didn't mean to degrade you, if this is what you think this is," he said. "I've played this game so often in my academy years, I never gave it a second thought. And my experiences have always been nothing but enjoyable. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you. Look, I think we played enough," he sighed, stacking the cards. "I guess you won the bet," he said with a thin, hollow smile.

Garak's hand shot out and grasp the thin delicate wrist, stopping the young man's movements. "If you didn't mean to disgrace me, then why play this game?" he asked, thoroughly puzzled.

*And here I though I was the naive.* A furious blush coloured the Human's features as he averted his eyes, tugging his wrist free to finish his task. "No reason Garak. I guess I was just ..."

"Yes?"

"Curious I guess."

"Curious to ... to see me undressed?" Garak asked, astonishingly enough surprised and shocked at the revelation. He lowered his eyes with a frown, scouring the table top. "I did not think you'd be ... well, frankly, I didn't think you were interested."

"Hmm," was all Julian offered in response, his face unreadable as he rose to slender legs. "Well, call me disappointed, but I thought you wouldn't have minded seeing me in the same light. But I guess I misread you." He faced the tailor with wide, truthful eyes. "I'm sorry. You can go Garak, I'll clear up in here."

"No."

"No?" Julian paused, looking down at Garak.

"No," he said simply, waving with a flourish at Julian's seat. "We have not finished the game, and if there is one thing we can all be sure of is that Elim Garak does nothing halfway though." Total silence greeted this as Julian slowly raised his eyes, meeting Garak's in total silence. Damn it to all Nine Hells, Garak thought. I'll never hear the end of it.

"My name ..." he muttered.

"I know," Julian nodded, shuffling the cards. "I've always known in fact," he smiled, and left the subject like that. Garak shook his head slightly, wondering just what else Julian knew about him.

They played in silence for the next three rounds, two which Julian lost, one which forced the tailor to toe off his shoes. When they went to complete another round, two pairs of eyes locked across the table, and a mute consensus was achieved. Tossing the cards aside carelessly, Julian rose from his seat, his movements mirrored by Garak who was pushing himself from the table, hungrily watching as Julian discarded the rest of his clothing. He examined the alien body before him, the silky brown skin covering the whole slender body, no adornments or breaks in the uniform smoothness of the human's skin. Garak was mesmerised with fascination, staring, licking his lips as he followed the sinuous lines of Bashir's body, pausing at the dark inviting nipples, erect and hard by the exposed state of his body. Garak unconsciously went through the familiar routine of sliding out of his pants, kicking them away from him as they both assessed the other, examining each fascinating aspect of the other's alien anatomy.

They both circled the table, meeting at one end as they kept their eyes moving over the other, taking note of the arousal lifting each other's sex. Garak's, thick and dark, rose with a pattern of scales flaring out, the shaft lined with textured grey leather. And while Julian watched, Garak studied Julian's own erection, slender and bronze, the head a rosy hue as it unfolded before his eyes.

"I never realised how ..." Garak choked on his own words, swallowing before continuing, "how beautiful you would be."

Julian blushed, taking a step forward, slipping his hands around the Cardassian's waist. "I always knew you would be," he whispered, and closed his mouth hungrily over Garak's. Swept by the utter unfamiliarity of it all, Garak pulled back slightly, faintly startled. Julian frowned, not knowing whether to be insulted or worried. "Elim? Did I do something wrong?

"No ..." he said, unsure. "I was simply not prepared for ... for this."

"Surely Cardassians kiss!" Julian said, slight shock at the possibilities permeating his features.

Garak twisted his lips upward. "We do. I just never did," he said with a sigh.

Julian's arms fell at his side limply, staring wide-eyed at the tailor. "You never ...? But Garak ..."

"Oh I've done many things Julian," Garak laughed. "I'm hardly a virgin if that's what you think. But I never ... I was never really kissed. And I never thought to do the same."

Julian took Garak's hand and led him to his bed, sitting down at its edge and tugging the Cardassian down next to him. Wordlessly he reached up, cupping the tailor's face, tilting it slightly to the side as he leaned in, parting his lips slightly, enough to allow his tongue to reach out and touch the Cardassian's lower lip. The touch electrified the tailor, sending a bolt of pleasure straight to his groin. "Julian," he whispered, his eyes drifting close as he felt the human's mouth finally close over his, allowing the wet sinuous tongue to slide its way into his own chaste mouth. Julian took a moment to nibble at the surprisingly soft muscle of Garak's tongue, moaning softly as he felt the tailor begin to respond. A few moments later, he was lying on his back, with Garak exploring his mouth enthusiastically. Finally the need for air pried the human away.

"Elim," he panted, splaying his hand against Garak's broad chest, pushing him away. "Elim, wait. I need to breathe!"

The tailor did not answer. Simply leaned back in, plundering the long slender neck, nibbling the skin, tasting the faintly salty taste of the Human's sweat. He trailed down, his hands moving all over the copper skin, feeling and caressing, discovering. When his chin was tickled by the tight ebony curls, Garak tensed and worked back up, avoiding the taut sex rising from Julian's thighs. Oblivious to the apparent hesitation, the human sighed and moaned at the tailor's gentle explorations, twisting on the bed with sheer pleasure. Alas, the tailor had known only one thing that had brought him pleasure, and that was to be filled.

"What do you want me to do?" he asked, the question itself a haunting memory of his early years.

"I want you inside me," Julian whispered, his breathing erratic, matching Garak's now as the tailor began to realise the impact of his request. Never before had he been allowed to take the active role.

"Inside you ..." he said almost dreamily, his hand moving down between their bodies, curling over the gracile waist and finding the small opening lodged between the soft silky mounds. He caressed it softly, kissing Julian again. The scales on his shaft flared with arousal, a thin oily liquid oozing between the indentations, Cardassians' own personal lubricant. He shifted aside to let the human move, watching ravenously as Julian climbed to knees and hands, the beautiful body almost a god's as it presented itself to him, offering itself for his pleasure. He approached the inviting ass, his cock hard as a rock as he aimed it for the puckered entrance. He closed his eyes, refusing to yield to the temptation to confess to his lover he had never done this before. Instead he pushed forward, letting muscles do their work, relying on Julian's body to open itself easily for him. And it did. After a hesitant pullback, Garak re-entered, sliding into the heated depths until his stomach was pressing against Julian's soft ass. Beneath him, beautiful cries of pleasure escaped the human's throat, adding to his own encouragement, coaxing him into moving forward and back, helping him establish a rhythm.

He splayed his hands over Bashir's thighs, working himself up the peak, head thrown back in rapture as he discovered just how pleasurable the sensations he was being fed were. The ascent was not a long one, and Garak came abruptly, crying out his ecstasy, clutching at the sharp thin hips with animalistic strength, emptying himself into the beautiful man. He draped the doctor's back with his own body and reached down, offering only a few strokes to encourage Julian over the edge. He bucked his hips wildly, moaning and crying out, biting down into the pillow with the force of his orgasm.

When he collapsed weakly against the sheets, Garak followed him, blissful, relieved. "Thank you," he murmured against the damp skin of his lover.

Julian nuzzled into the pillows, not wanting Garak to move from where he was, revelling in the comforting blanket that was his lover's body. "For what?"

"For nothing," the tailor dismissed. "For everything. Simply accept my gratitude."

"I already forgave you for no clear reason," Julian said indistinctly. "I suppose I'll do this as well. For what it's worth, you're welcome."

Garak smiled, pillowing his head against Julian's shoulder, too comfortable to move.

"Another thing ..." Garak whispered.

"Yes?" Julian was drozy, already on the verge of deep sleep.

"I still don't get gambling."

Lazy laughter wafted from somewhere beneath him before both drifted to sleep, content as cats.

The End