Title: The Racquetball Game
Summary: Garak has one too many naughty impulses regarding that little silver outfit Julian wears to his games.
Warning: PWP. There is not even the pretence of a plot.
Warning #2: Despite its title, contains no actual racquetball. :0)
Disclaimer: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine is the property of Paramount. This story, written in 1998, never has been and never will be sold.
Feedback: Any and all. Criticism welcome.
The Racquetball Game
Garak tried to concentrate on his book. He was supposed to be re-reading one of his favourites before lending it to Bashir.
His young love was wandering about their quarters, clad in his racquetball outfit. Garak was discovering that the skin-tight silver thing was even more alluring than the sight of Julian's nude body.
It came up to his throat in a falsely modest high collar. Every square centimetre of his flesh was covered save his head and hands. There was even a double panel in the front which kept the body-hugging stretch fabric from revealing too much.
It was the combination of modesty and revelation which made Garak follow Julian's movements. The young human collected his racquet and ball, then turned to catch Garak's eyes.
"What is it?" he asked.
"You're staring," the young man murmured.
Garak nodded. "You're beautiful," he explained.
Julian blushed and veiled his eyes, smiling demurely.
Garak drew his eyes over the beautiful body again. This time the double panelling was utterly useless.
Garak stood and moved to where Julian waited. He kissed the back of Julian's neck, trailing his hands down Julian's sides.
Julian gasped sharply as he was touched through his clothing.
Garak cupped his rear, moving to kiss the side of his throat, licking his ear delicately as Garak's deft fingers slipped between his legs to caress him through the slippery fabric. Garak's left hand slid from his lips, down his throat, over his chest, tickling his flat belly.
Julian let out a little cry as Garak's hand caressed his hard cock and his balls.
"Elim, let me take this thing off before --"
"I'll clean it," Garak interrupted.
Julian trembled slightly, sending shivers through Garak's chest. He looked so beautiful this way, biting his plump red lower lip, cheeks flushed with hectic colour, chest heaving, pulse pounding... Garak could feel it speed under his mouth as he bit Julian's throat gently.
The sound went right to Garak's blood. One finger rubbed gently at Julian's sensitive opening; his other hand squeezed Julian's balls. "Do you want me to make you come?" he whispered, kissing just below Julian's ear.
"Do you have a racquetball game soon?" Garak asked in the same tone as he continued to fondle the boy through his clothing.
"Miles and I are -- mmm... we're meeting in a few minutes, but..."
"Oh! I think I can stand to be late."
"Ah." He gripped Julian's penis firmly, pumping it hard until Julian cried out inarticulately.
Julian clung to Garak as he panted, shaking, recovering slowly. Then, when he had his breath, he threw himself into a kiss.
Garak smiled as Julian drew back, taking his chin between a thumb and forefinger. "Now, my dear," he murmured affectionately, "let us find you something else to wear to your game!"