| Author:
Judith
Pairing: Garak/Quark Rating: NC-17 Feedback: < [email protected] > Disclaimer: Viacom is Borg - that pretty much says it all. Notes: Part of the "Garak Fuh-q Fest". ** Please do not reproduce for anything other than personal reading use (including fanzines) without written consent of the author. Archiving: ( Cardassian Choir )
A contract is a contract is a contract... but only between Ferengi. - Rule of Acquisition Number 17 Quark woke up from his intense dream, breathing deeply and marveling at the fact he was alive and able to do that. He had fallen into an uneasy sleep, wondering when Garak would fulfill his promise and kill him. Gint, the first Grand Nagus of Ferenginar had visited him in a dream and told him what he already knew, though – that he didn't want to die. Quark just hadn't had the strength to break the contract he made with Brunt, a contract that he had made when he thought he was dying, a contract that should have been nullified once it had been made clear he'd been mistakenly diagnosed with a deadly disease, a contract that *would* have been nullified by any decent and compassionate businessman... but Ferengi businessmen were rarely decent and never compassionate. So Brunt had demanded his vacuum desiccated bits of Quark, and Quark, dutiful Ferengi, had felt honour-bound to provide them. Hence, he had made a contract with Garak to kill him – quickly, cleanly, and painlessly. Dream-Gint's advice now made *that* contract null and void. "Now what am I going to do about Garak?" he wondered aloud. "I don't need to be killed anymore." "Well, that does create a problem, does it not?" Quark jumped as the lean, black-clad Cardassian stepped out of his bathroom holding a hypospray. "Garak!" "What's this then?" Garak sat at the end of the bed, patient and still, yet managing to remain menacing. Quark flushed a little, feeling foolish at telling this paid assassin that he was going to heed the advice given in a dream. "Er... I..." the Ferengi steeled himself, forced himself to speak as one businessman to another. "I won't be needing your services anymore." Garak considered this evenly. "I see." He made no move to leave. Quark eyed the hypospray nervously, but managed to wave a hand and sound dismissive. "That will be all then." Garak sat back. "And what about our contract? Are you breaking it?" Quark frowned. "No, well, yes. I won't need your services." The tailor nodded. "There is still the question of my fee." Now the Ferengi businessman surged forth. "Fee? I don't need your services, hence I don't need to *pay* for your services! There is no 'fee'." "On the contrary," Garak moved closer, leaning toward the smaller man who instinctively shifted back a little. "I went through a great deal of effort, took a great deal of time trying to fulfill your contract, Quark. I feel I am owed something for my... work." Quark calculated quickly, a skill he learned before he could spell. The problem was that his finances weren't what they were... or at least they wouldn't be once Brunt got through with him. A pang of grief made Quark wince. He was going to be destitute. It would almost be worth it to let Garak kill him! He blinked and found Garak watching him intently, waiting for his answer. Best keep his personal tragedy to himself for now. "What do you want? I don't have money," he admitted. "Brunt is going to bankrupt me tomorrow." Garak sat back again, considering this. "Perhaps we could reach a ... *compromise* then." Quark nearly sighed with relief. "I'm a willing businessman. What kind of compromise?" "Use of your holosuites?" The Ferengi shook his head, rather sadly. "I probably won't have my bar after tomorrow. I can't promise you their use, but I would if I could." Garak frowned, looking displeased. "What *do* you have of value then?" "Only myself." Quark looked genuinely concerned; he didn't like a customer to leave unhappy, and he didn't want a client to feel he had been dishonest. _Brunt was right. I'm no longer a real Ferengi. I've become... *principled*._ He looked at Garak. "I'm sorry, Garak. I have nothing to give you for your time and work. All I have anymore, all that Brunt will leave me is *me*." He ran a hand over his bald head and heaved a gusty sigh. "Whatever *that's* worth." The Cardassian considered this, then suddenly he pressed the hypospray he still held to Quark's leg. "Hey!" The Ferengi jumped, horrified. "That won't get you anything! Killing me just gets you... a murder charge!" Garak smiled, a deadly little smile. "And it will also help me give you a 'little death'." "There's nothing little about it!" Quark shrieked, frantic with fear at the thought of what the poison Garak had given him was doing to his body. "I'm going to die! Moogie! Moogie!!!" He gasped and fell back on his bed, feeling his limbs starting to get heavy. A lethargy swept over him. He tried, but he found he couldn't move anything. _What a horrible way to die! I won't be able to breathe soon. I should have listened to my idiot brother._ "Foolish Ferengi," the Cardassian crooned. "You're not dying. Not tonight at any rate." "Whuh...?" Quark found his mouth unable to form clear words. He could breathe, though, and feel his body. He just couldn't move. "I gave you a very mild paralytic. I had intended on using it so you couldn't fight while I... fulfilled my contract with you. I still intend to." Garak smiled, a very strange, gentle smile. "Nnnooooooooo..." "Oh, don't worry, Quark. I'm only going to give you 'a little death'. Then our contract will be fulfilled." The Ferengi could only move his eyes to watch the Cardassian as he slipped off the bed and leaned over him. He could feel, but do nothing as Garak's fingers slid along his legs, carefully, as if testing them. His eyes widened a little as he felt those fingers reach the bulge covered by his silk pajamas. "G-g-gaaa..." "Hush. I think we *both* need this." "G-g-gaaa..." Garak frowned, then leaned over and pressed his cool lips to Quark's, effectively shutting him up. The kiss deepened as the Cardassians fingers wormed their way beneath the Ferengi's silk pajama bottoms. Quark's eyes revealed his confusion... and terror. What had Garak meant by 'a little death'? Why was he doing this? He felt those fingers stroking his terrified flesh, willed it to stay quiescent. He closed his eyes and fought to stay soft. His flesh betrayed him, though, warming, lengthening, straining to extend to it's full, impressive length. Male Ferengi genitals were very unimposing when soft, even rather ugly-looking with a pouchy, deeply wrinkled appearance, but when erect they were among the most impressive in the Galaxy. Despite his pride in them, Quark currently felt nothing but humiliation. He had no choice, but he was still ashamed that he wasn't putting up more of a fight against those teasing fingers. Quark moaned as his penis unfurled and grew and grew... and grew. He couldn't think with Garak's fingers gently stroking him and kissing him like that. He didn't *want* to think. Just let the Cardassian have his way. His eyes opened at this thought. _Garak. *Why* is Garak doing this? He's never shown interest in me before._ Even as he wondered this, he recalled that Garak wasn't particularly choosy about his sexual partners. He had managed to decrypt one of the tailor's holosuite program sessions out of curiosity once. Male, female, Cardassian, alien, it didn't seem to matter to the tailor so long as the person was interesting. Quark felt he was interesting enough. Plus the Cardassian had asked about the use of his holosuites. He had probably intended on taking his fee by getting holographic sexual favours... but without his holosuites, all he had to offer him in exchange was *himself*. Garak pulled back and eyed him. His voice was soft and intrigued. "You're quite impressive, Quark. I had been wondering if all those tales about Ferengi were true." Quark could only watch now as Garak stood and began to strip. His gaze traveled down along the lean, muscular physique that was revealed. The scales and hard ridges of his neck trailed down his neck, becoming a delicate-looking hint of scales and pliable looking ridgework that swirled down his torso, growing harder-looking below his belly where they trailed down to... Quark couldn't see that far down; only his eyes were able to move. His eyes moved back up to Garak's face. The Cardassian wore a slight smile. "This should prove quite... educational." Quark felt the bed dip as Garak moved onto it. He felt those skillful hands carefully pulling off his pajama bottoms, exposing his warm skin to the chill air. He hoped that his excited, softly pulsing organ would soften from the cold, but it was a futile hope. The thought alone seemed to serve only to harden him further. He knew his cock must be bobbing in the air right now. He felt his knees brought up and his legs spread wide. He groaned as the tip of his cock rubbed along Garak's belly as the Cardassian leaned over him between his legs and slowly unfastened his pajama shirt. He could feel the cool air make his nipples tingle into hard little points. Fingers caressed his aching nubs and Quark tried to thrust up, into the sensation. He found he could not and groaned anew. His body was responding to the stimulation, but he could not lift a finger under his own volition, an exquisite form of torture. That made sense, though, didn't it? That Garak would know about all kinds of torture? He looked up at Garak, who was sitting back now, looking down. He felt the Cardassian press against him again, then he felt something cool and slick, but very hard wedge against his puckered opening. His cock twitched, but he could still do nothing. He felt hard as latinum... and his lobes had yet to be touched! As Garak leaned over him, that hard invader slipped deep inside him. As the Cardassian began to undulate over him, he could feel that hard, slick cock moving within him. There were ridges, he knew, that decorated Cardassian cocks. He could feel one slide back and forth over his prostate, over and over. A soft moan escaped Quark's lips. How could this be happening? How was it possible for him to be so very hard, so very needful, yet be unable to move, to even ease the aching pressure in his distended shaft? He couldn't even ask Garak for the attention his lobes and cock craved. The Cardassian was clearly enjoying himself. He could see the pale blue eyes above. They closed slowly from time to time, savouring the sensation of the slow, but thorough fucking he was giving Quark. Quark's body sang with tension, unsatisfied need. He moaned again as he felt his hugely swollen cock press against his own belly, the tip gently brushing one of his nipples with each deep thrust of Garak's hips. It was the only attention his aching erection was receiving. Quark had never experienced sex like this before, never been coerced and unable to move. Oh, he *had* tried a few unusual things, being tied up, even being spanked, but being fucked and unable to do anything about it, being unable to relieve his own sexual tension was almost unbearable. Being unable to tweak his own lobes was downright torture. And what could he look forward to? Being killed! Quark nearly cried as he remembered Garak telling him he still intended on providing him 'a little death'. _Why would he want to kill me when he could fuck me instead?_ Quark blinked. Where had that thought come from? Did he really enjoy what Garak was doing? Garak adjusted his angle and Quark found his knees being hoisted over the Cardassians elbows as the Cardassian now leaned over and against him. His hard, muscular, ridged chest and abdomen was pressing against Quark's torso, pinning his rampant cock. Quark groaned again, his eyes reflecting his need to Garak. Garak merely smiled and continued to slow-fuck him, sensuously rubbing himself against Quark's body, sending exquisite sensations to his trapped and aching erection. Quark screwed his eyes shut. He tried to speak. "F-f-fuh..." "Trying to tell me something, Quark?" Garak whispered close to his ear. The slight amount of breath against his lobes made him moan piteously. Quark wanted to cry with frustration. He wanted so badly to do *something*, but all he could do was lay here and be fucked, his cock aching for attention, for the hard pressure of hands or a body orifice to push into. He couldn't even ask to be fucked harder! He was used to fucking, not being fucked. What was worse, Quark now admitted to himself, was that he had never felt so turned on in his life. His poor ignored lobes tingled with need. Suddenly Garak held him very tightly and he felt that heavy cock moving within him pulse, then begin to practically glide as warm, slimy seed lubricated his passage. Quark trembled with need and fear. Would Garak kill him now, provide the little death he had teased him with? Worse, his cock felt as if it was just about ready to burst. Without having done anything and without benefit of assistance, he was going to achieve a huge payoff. The Cardassian pulled back now, pulled free from him. Quark opened his eyes to find Garak looking down at him, then looking further down at his throbbing cock. The Cardassian smiled. Quark waited uncertainly, fearful and more filled with lust than he'd ever felt. Garak reached for him and Quark whimpered. Those cool, skillful fingers trailed down his swollen rod. It was enough. Quark's eyes widened and he tried hard to push into that exquisite pressure, but it was useless. He could not move. His cock began spurting helplessly into the air, unaided and alone. Garak, he noted, was watching him, a satisfied smile on his face. Quark closed his eyes as more seed spurt from him in dizzying waves of intense pleasure. He'd never felt a release so powerful in his life, especially never without any stimulation to his poor lobes. "Oh, Garak!!" he moaned as his cock continued to pulse out heated seed. He felt like he was about to die, and it would not matter so long as this sensation never ended. He'd never felt anything so good in his entire life. Was this when Garak would kill him? Quark drew in a breath and opened his eyes, looking up fearfully to see... his room's ceiling. He looked around and saw nothing. "Garak?" He hitched himself up and realized his pajama's were stuck to him, wet with his sperm even as he realized he could now move. Quark frowned. Had it all just been a dream? He looked down and saw he was still wearing his pajamas. Apparently it *had* been. Quark heaved a sigh of relief. This whole thing with Brunt and the contract must be affecting him more than he thought. He got out of bed carefully, heading for his bathroom to wash and change. "First thing – call Garak and cancel our deal." he muttered as he stepped into his bathroom and the door sensor lit the room. "Well, that does change things, does it not?" Quark jumped as he saw the lean, black-clad Cardassian standing in the middle of his bathroom. "Garak!" The Cardassian eyed the wet, sticky Ferengi. His eyes reflected mild surprise and a slight, but pleasant smile lit his lips. "Is this some new Ferengi fashion I'm unfamiliar with?" "Huh?" the shaking Quark looked down, remembered his condition and blushed. "No. I... had an accident." "I see. Based on your comments a moment ago, am I to take it our arrangement is now... null and void?" Garak asked pleasantly. Quark nodded rapidly, his heart beating a staccato rhythm, feeling sweat beading on his forehead. "Yes! I mean, no, your services aren't needed anymore!" "Very well. Have a good night then." The Ferengi watched, wide-eyed as the Cardassian non-chalantly stepped out of his bathroom, as if nothing of import had just happened. Quark waited until he heard his room door open and shut then heaved a deep sigh of relief. He showered rapidly, feeling as if he was washing away the memory of the strange and disconcerting dreams he'd had. "A little death." he murmured to himself as he dried. He knew he'd heard the term before, but could not remember in what context. Quark shrugged. Dreams were weird, that was all. Feeling refreshed, he stepped out of his bathroom, then jumped as his comm panel trilled. "Garak to Quark." He caught his breath and responded. "Go ahead." "I'm afraid I left a small item in your room. Please feel free to bring it by my shop anytime today." Quark frowned, but nodded. "All right." "Thank you, and my apologies for disturbing you further. Good night." Quark shook his head at this disconcerting interruption. "The next time I need someone to kill me, I'll hire out!" He chuckled at this thought and headed for bed. He was very tired. He would sleep very well tonight. _I'll look for whatever he lost in here, later,_ he thought, sitting on the edge of his bed. Yawning he swung his feet onto the bed... and hit something hard that clattered to the floor. Frowning, he swung to look past the far side of his bed. A hypospray gleamed in the faint light in his room. ~ FINIS ~ 'une petite mort', Fr. "a little death". – French slang for "orgasm". END [ main page || basics || pairings || list || tales || disclaimer || links ] |