After their daily routine at the Replimat, Garak and Doctor Bashir added a weekly literature evening at one of their Quarters.
It was Bashir's idea, and they agreed that he was allowed to chose the first book.
So, after three tedious weeks of William Shakespeare's „Henry VIII", Garak finally had the chance to read the Cardassian Drama „Felony and Blood" to his dear Doctor.

Even though being very enthusiastic about interesting his friend in Cardassian Literature and putting all his theatrical skills into the Dialogs to achieve that goal, Garak failed and Bashir already got bored after the first thirty minutes.
Bashir was slouching in the corner of his sofa with Garak outstretched on the rest of it, who claimed his back was acting up again.
Usually the Doctor would have jumped for the next Med-Kit, but strangely not today.
He just convinced Garak to lie down.

Garak's head was resting on Bashir's thigh and he was reading from the novel PAD, which he held with both hands over his chest.
Bashir's head was slightly retroverted and his mind was wandering. Wandering around Cardassia Prime, pretending how life really would be there.

It clearly couldn't be like depicted in those soporific books.
And while his mind wandered his fingers also started to wander.
Gently he started stroking some of Garak's beautiful black and smooth hair strands.
Garak didn't notice it at all, being so occupied in reading aloud.
Then Bashir slowly started combing through this shiny hair, which almost felt like feathers.
Dreamily he let the strands run through his fingers until they fell down just to pick them up again for another fall.
Still no protest from Garak.
Carefully Bashir started caressing his friend's hairline and found himself exploring the ridges on his forehead.
That's when Garak gave a little twitch and paused, noticing what was going on, but returning to his reading within a nano second.
„...WERE THE WISE WORDS OF HIS FATHER..." he read out a little louder, not only to regain his concentration, but hoping to restore Bashir's as well.
He was unsuccessfully though.
The Doctor by then had started circulating his index finger around this fascinating frontal-crest.
Garak's voice stumbled again, but still he tried to ignore these antics the Doctor was playing.
„... TO THOSE WHO CLAIMED..." he raised his voice.
„Garak?"
Annoyed Garak lowered his PAD.
„Yes?"
„Well..." Bashir started hesitantly though playfully, while still moving his finger through the crest, which seemed so perfectly made for a finger, „... why do Cardassians have this?"
„Why do Humans have those sloppy earlobes?" Garak replied thinking the conversation was over and lifted his PAD again.
„No please, tell me about it."
Garak sighed and lowered the PAD again: „ It's an evolutionary remnant. Probably like your lobes."
„What purpose did it have?"
Garak gave up. He shifted his body a little and tried to peer up into Bashir's face, who didn't retreat his hand from Garak's forehead.
„Is this going into your medical files about Cardassian Anatomy?" he tried getting to the bottom of this.
„I'm just curious." Bashir paused, then grinned „... though I'd might make an entry. You know how little we know about Cardassians."
Garak shifted back, closing his eyes and waved the PAD around.
„That's why you should read more Cardassian Literature." he resentfully replied, but continued with a sigh: „Well, sooner or later you had to ask this. The crest served and partially still does serve, two functions. First: It supports the auditory System. It helps filtering and transporting certain sound waves. And second: It was part of the mating rituals of Cardassian ancestors who go back millions of years!"
Hoping to have satisfied the Doctor with this short version, Garak tried to pick up the PAD again...
„How do you know about the mating rituals? Has there been fossil evidence or similar findings?"
Garak grew tense. This was an annoying subject he rather not liked to talk about and this hand caressing the subject of interest wasn't making it easier.
„My dear Doctor, I'm not in the mood to discuss evolution with you this evening and especially not Cardassian mating rituals! And please stop touching it!"
But Bashir didn't listen.

He just shifted his head to the side and let his finger run very, very slowly over this soft skinned recess under which you could nonetheless feel the hard bone that formed it.
He then made a little nod: „So it IS still part of the Cardassian mating ritual... that's why I saw it change colour now and then. It got a little blueish."
Garak froze and then panicked.
„What? No? I mean yes! No!" he tried to sit up, but was restrained.
He was deeply embarrassed. His crest had turned blue?
Quickly Garak covered his face with both hands. Why didn't Bashir discreetly pointed it out when it happened? No, he had to observe Garak and then putting up this show, teasing him!
„Did it happen when I was in public?" Garak's muffled voice penetrated his hands.
„Oh, it happened once or twice on the promenade, the Replimat, at your shop, our Quarters, but only over the past few weeks. You know, just before we started the literature evening." Bashir smiled going back to stroke Garak's hair, trying to comfort the distressed Cardassian.
Three weeks! Garak shifted nervously around, still being restrained by the Doctor.
Bashir's smile grew wider: „ So... who are you trying to mate?"
Garak ground his teeth. Either the Doctor was teasing him, or he was really naive.
Anyway the situation became too uncomfortable for Garak, but still trying to keep his dignity he replied: „Please, Doctor! I think I better go now. If you are not in the mood for Cardassian literature, then we should make another appointment."
And finally with a jolt, he sat up straight, straightening his hair.
But at the same moment he was pressed gently, though determined, into the other corner, unable to flee the situation.

Bashir, half hanging over Garak's body, stroke his face, his ridges, his crest as admiringly as before. „No, I'm not in the mood for Cardassian literature, I'm in the mood for a Cardassian. Seems like your mating ritual works fine on Humans."
Garak's throat got dry and he was paralyzed, but managed to speak: „ You knew this from the beginning, right? That's why you came up with the Literature evening in the first place!"
Bashir grinned: „You still underestimate my wit and you underestimate the Federation Databanks."
Garak was stunned.
He was outwitted by this Human on such a delicate subject.
His pride was wounded, but still... it got wounded by the person he secretly admired and this person, being a capable Doctor, probably could fix it again.
Still Bashir teased on: „ You know, I gave you three weeks to come forward, but unsurprisingly you like to keep your secrets."
Hesitantly Garak's arms closed around his friend.
He tried to look him in the eyes, but needed several attempts until he could and asked a little trembling: „Would you like being my mate?"
Bashir smiled a warm smile, leaned forward to give a soft kiss on Garak's crest and whispered a simple „Of course."