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"You’re sure you’re not leading me on? This was actually an ancient Hebitian ritual?"
Julian squinted down at Garak, looking skeptical.
Garak’s quarters were dark, lit only by a few (ironically Bajoran) candles placed strategically around the edges. Julian stood in the center, naked but feeling warm in the Cardassian heat, even as he held his limbs awkwardly away from his body. Before him, an equally nude Garak leaned in close to paint blue lines over the invisible impressions of where ridges and chu’en would be on human skin.
"Why, of course, my dear. It may not make much sense to you or I, but the Hebitians were a very devout people to their gods."
Julian furrowed his brows, feeling the tacky sensation of dried paint over them moving with the skin.
"I thought they only had one god. Oralius."
"Ah, I see how that might be easy to misunderstand. Like your ancient Greeks, they had an entire pantheon, but with one regarded above all others, their ruler and creator. A similar concept."
Garak didn’t glance up from his work. He was too focused on painting in the chula after spending far too long figuring out exactly how low on Julian’s sternum he thought it should be.
"And so then what god is this ritual for?" Julian asked, wondering if there was some Cardassian, or Hebitian as it were, sex god that he ought to have been leaving out offerings for.
"Any we like. One chooses which god to appeal to for the fruitfulness of a union depending on what one desires out of it."
Julian hummed in thought and did his best to stay still.
When his lover had suggested exploring ancient Hebitian religion with him after the banned Cardassian book they’d been reading mentioned it several times, Julian hadn’t thought much of it. In fact, he’d been rather fascinated. While he’d never been very religious himself, the idea that Garak’s ancestors had once had a worship more of the supernatural and less of the civic was intriguing. He'd wanted to know more and exploring some of the extinct culture’s traditions and rituals seemed like a great way.
That what Garak had in mind was ritualistic sex performed for the longevity and ‘fruitfulness’ of a relationship was even better.
But then Julian had been given a supremely suspect list of requirements.
The first couple items were believable enough. Rather obvious even.
They both needed to be naked. No one else could be present.
And based on Julian’s limited knowledge of Cardassian history, the next one was quite plausible as well.
They would need to paint their ridges and chu’en blue.
Not just any blue. The sex blue. Fuck me blue as he often liked to think of it when Garak coyly dabbed it on his chufa and neck for a date.
The vibrant shade that Cardassians wore to attract mates and had the ability to drive them absolutely wild. As he understood it, there was something to do with hormones that turned the chu’en and ridges blue during certain parts of the year—mating season, no doubt—if one lived in the right climates. So it was very possible that the Hebitians had painted themselves with it for their sex rituals.
Even if the modern day implication of fully slathering one’s ridges in it was prostitution, as Garak had complained.
From there, the demands had become more suspicious.
For one, neither of them could have a single drop of product in their hair. It needed to be totally cleansed of all unnatural oils and gels by the time of ritual.
Julian felt unkempt. He hadn’t gone a day without combing his hair into a quiff for years and now, he battled with the constant urge to swipe his curls away from his forehead. He hated it, even if he had gotten a number of compliments over the day.
Garak fared much better. His hair looked a fair bit duller and more limp but that was all. At least it was long enough to tuck behind his ears.
And the bastard didn’t have to deal with the last item on the list.
Julian was convinced that Garak had added it in for his own pleasure. It wouldn’t make sense otherwise. Oh, his lover had tried to placate him with some nonsense about qualifying as a beast and being unable to partake otherwise, but Julian knew an underhanded trick when he saw one.
Body hair, all of it, needed to be shaved. Face, chest, pits, groin, arms, legs, everything. Not a single stray curl could remain but his eyebrows and the hair on his scalp.
He’d tried to argue it, but Garak held firm and so, for this one time only, he acquiesced. Spent a good two hours with a sonic shaver until he was as bare as the day he'd been born.
The result was...strange. He felt soft, bared, vulnerable. It was also surprisingly sensual. Fabrics brushed against his skin differently than before, no hair to separate them. There were times he felt nearly over sensitized from it all.
Julian jolted, brought back into the present as Garak ran two paint covered fingers down his lower belly.
Garak pulled his hand back sharply to avoid accidentally smearing the line.
"Julian! Please, I can’t do this properly if you’re going to move like that." He glared up at him accusingly.
"Sorry," Julian said, swallowing drily.
Satisfied, Garak went back to work, redipping his fingers and coloring an imaginary chuva in, centered in the saddle of his hips, before continuing on to the groin.
"I thought I told you to remove all your excess fur," he grumbled, using his clean hand to rub the wrong way up the prickly short stubs of Julian’s pubic hair.
Julian grimaced as he held in the urge to reach down there and itch. "I did! Just yesterday."
Garak sighed dramatically as he continued painting, making a stripe that ran over his pubic bone and then split to go around his penis. "I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. Your face is the same way when you neglect it. Your legs don’t seem to have quite the same trouble however."
He let his unoccupied hand drift down to stroke up the back of Julian’s calf.
Julian shivered.
"You ought to consider investing in removing the fur here more regularly."
Well, that comment hardly helped Garak’s case that making him shave was definitely required to perform the ritual.
"I’m glad you like it. But it took me forever to do, so you’ll just have to accept it as a special treat," Julian leveled.
Garak hummed in response and continued on, finishing the stripe just behind his balls and then returning to the ones already begun on his sides, painting them down to his legs.
Julian swallowed at the heady sensation of rough hands brushing along his hips and down his thighs, all the way to the outside of his knee before reapplying the paint to his hand and continuing on to his ankle.
Once he was finished, Garak took a step back to admire his work.
"It suits you, dear doctor."
Julian let his arms down, feeling that his sides were dry enough now not to smear. "I do hope you don’t normally ask your physicians to perform ancient sex rituals with you."
"Only if they’re very handsome," Garak teased.
"My turn to paint you?"
Garak spared a glance at the paint bowl. "I’m afraid I must have miscalculated the amount we needed. There isn’t quite enough left to cover the entirety of myself but I can do the basics."
Julian was very suspicious at that. He opened his mouth to voice his doubts but was beat to it by Garak, a mischievous gleam in his eye.
"Have I ever told you, my dear, that you would likely be regarded as a god if my ancestors ever met you? Perhaps even an embodiment of Oralius himself."
"And what’s that supposed to mean?" Julian crossed his arms and shifted his weight, thoughts straying to the megalomanic augments of the distant past.
"Exactly as I said. When one considers the differences between our peoples, it shouldn’t be too difficult to figure out."
Julian was silent for several moments as he pondered it through. He watched Garak paint himself in the meantime, dabbing what was left into each of his chu’en and onto several strategically chosen scales along his ridges.
Then it hit him.
"Oh! Because your people are cold blooded, isn’t it? Oralius is probably your sun god, the primary source of warmth and also life. And since I’m warm blooded, I produce heat on my own. It would be a bit like if a pyrokinetic or electrokinetic life form visited earth pre-contact. The ability would be so far beyond anything we’d seen that it would seem supernatural."
"Precisely."
Julian felt rather proud of himself for figuring it out and he beamed down at Garak, who gave him one of his sly little smiles in return.
Paint bowl now empty, Garak picked it up and set it away on a shelf.
Julian watched him go, admiring the view, before calling over cheekily, "But you realize, that means Miles would also be considered godlike to your people."
"Oh please, spare me."
Julian grinned. "Don’t worry. That can stay between just you and me. He already thinks I’m whipped for shaving my arm hair for you. Says you’re just trying to make me into a Cardassian. Maybe he’s onto something."
He shrugged non committedly as Garak turned back around.
"My dear, if you were Cardassian then I’d still have to use my heated blanket to survive the nights. I’d much rather have my Oralius."
Julian cringed at the nickname. "Oh stars, don’t call me that, Elim. It sounds ridiculous!"
Garak’s eyes were alight with mirth as he swept back toward him. He dropped dramatically to his knees in prostration.
"Then by what title would you prefer I use to worship you, my dear?"
Julian narrowed his eyes at Garak’s nonsense and felt a smile creeping onto his face.
"Julian will do, you absurd lizard."
Garak looked up at him with eyes nearly glowing in the candlelight.
"Then, my Julian, I am at your service."
He reached for one of Julian’s hands and took it in both of his own, giving a lingering kiss to the top before flipping it over to give the same treatment to the palm. He held onto it with one hand as he took the other and kissed both sides as well. Then he brought them together and brushed fluttering lips over the knuckles.
Julian watched him silently, feeling a certain amount of awe in Garak’s reverence and more than a little warm from it.
Once they’d been properly adorned, he was released and Garak pressed himself closer to the floor, repeating his adorations to the tops and soles of his feet, scaled hands wrapping around to guide them. They tingled at the contact, sending sparks of pleasure all the way up. His hands grasped the backs of Julian’s ankles, gripping loosely, and began the slow slide up his smooth legs. He dragged thumbs over where Julian was painted and the sensation of Garak’s leathery palms against his soft skin sent heat right to his belly.
When Garak got to his arse, he grabbed at it greedily, pulling his hips to meet his mouth. He landed over the blue stripe where Julian's pubic hair would normally be, tongue scraping over it like sandpaper and making Julian gasp before moving down to his balls. There he did the same on the dissecting blue before sucking one gently into his mouth, apparently relishing the smoothness as his tongue laved over it. By the time he was done, Julian positively ached for release.
Then Garak moved on to the main prize. He took the head of Julian’s cock into his mouth and remained like that for several moments, apparently in some rapturous zen, before beginning to bob his head and take more.
Julian watched him work and felt a strange warmth bloom through him, different even than the heat of arousal or the temperature of the room.
Garak really did seem quite devoted to his task, loving in it even. Like a follower dedicating himself to a deity.
Julian’s head jerked up to look as the wormhole opened. Garak didn’t give it a single glance or pause, eyes closed to focus on what he was doing.
It twisted and twirled in bright colors and Julian looked away, being nothing he hadn’t seen many times before. But then a flash of movement caught his eye and Julian looked to the darkness of the room. There, in a mirror, was reflected the sight from outside and in front of it was Garak and himself. The swirling colors framed Julian’s head like some sort of halo and for a moment he saw it.
He was naked and painted and positively glowing with the celestial lights, zealous worshiper at his feet. With his hairless body and loose hair, he looked like some sort of Greek god, perhaps Apollo himself, patron of healing and the sun.
But no, that wasn’t totally accurate, was it? Because he wasn’t an old Earth deity. Nor was he Hebitian or Cardassian. He was Garak’s deity and Garak’s alone.
Julian, god of warmth, light, literature, and medicine. And maybe sex.
And then the moment ended, the wormhole having allowed whatever ship to pass and now closed.
And again they were just as they were. Two mortal men making love to each other’s temporary flesh.
Garak gave no indication he’d seen any of it. Instead, he kept as he was, swallowing and suckling around him, and when Julian came, he swallowed everything that was given to him, like a liquid ambrosia. Afterwards, Julian ended up having to push him off when the Cardassian continued to gently hold his oversensitive cock in his mouth.
When Garak looked up at him again, it was with awed eyes, and for a moment, Julian wondered if he had seen. He allowed himself a small smile, setting a hand in Garak's hair and letting his thumb brush through the blue of his chufa like a benediction.
Garak’s eyes drifted close again in rapture at the caress.
He smirked down at him as he continued petting it with his thumb.
"Do you know what I think, Elim? You made this whole ritual up in order to get me naked and covered in blue for your own gratification."
"Really, my dear! Such accusations," Garak nearly moaned out. "And I’ve hardly received any gratification for all my hard work."
Julian took in Garak’s spots of fuck me blue, just numerous enough to be indecent, and everted prUt. He smiled down at him in what he hoped was a benevolent way. Most likely, it just came off as horny.
"You’re right, Elim. You’ve appealed to your chosen god for the fruitfulness of your union and it's only right for your god to bestow his blessing in return."
He pulled Garak up and walked him backwards to the window, pushing him to sit on the sill before kneeling between his legs. He rested a hand on his thigh and looked up at Garak through his eyelashes.
"I accept your offering, by the way."
And with that, Julian tilted his head to take Garak into his mouth.