(Day 1)
That evening, after a modest meal of Starfleet rations followed by a rousing debate over the latest enigma tale that Garak had foisted on him, Julian started to get ready for bed. Garak raised a ridge at his red flannel pyjamas, but Julian wasn't embarrassed. They were his cosiest pair and would do the job nicely, he was already starting to feel chilly.
Garak couldn't resist giving his opinion on the unflattering swathes of patterned fabric drowning the Doctor's frame. "And here I thought your uniform was bad."
Julian merely shrugged in response. "These are an Earth classic. Plus, I'm hardly doing a fashion show when I go to bed."
Julian cast his eyes critically over Garak's attire but conceded that his pyjama/silk robe/colourful blanket combination actually looked pretty good. Not that he would expect anything less from the fastidious Tailor. Even the clothes Garak chose to relax in all looked carefully considered and put together. Julian had always been more interested in the texture of his apparel than he was with the visual aesthetics. Although, he often found himself drawn to loud patterns and colours when forced to choose. He was sure Garak would be aghast at many of the more garish pieces hanging in his wardrobe, having already wrinkled his nose at the handful of clothes that Julian had brought with him.
Garak produced a spare pillow for the sofa which Julian gratefully accepted before throwing it onto his makeshift bed for the night, it would do the job well enough. Even with the cold, he'd slept in much worse conditions than this. Kukalaka was already tucked in, out of sight of the keen eyed Cardassian. Julian may have not been embarrassed about his pjs, but he didn't want to explain that the only way he was going to be able to sleep properly in the unfamiliar surroundings was by cuddling his faithful teddy bear.
As he headed to his bedroom, Garak inclined his head to his guest. "Goodnight my dear Doctor, I'll see you in the morning."
Julian offered Garak a sleepy smile. "Night Garak. You know where I am if you need me."
- - -.
Julian awoke to the sound of chattering teeth coming from the other room, he'd only been asleep for an hour or two at most. Sluggishly he got up and fished out his medical tricorder, Garak's quarters were noticeably colder than they had been. Drawing his blanket around himself, he softly padded into the bedroom. Julian tried to stand near enough to Garak to get an accurate reading without getting too up-close-and-personal. He should have known better than to think he could sneak up on the Cardassian.
Garak sighed dramatically. "D-Doctor, while you may be many things, stealthy you are not. You might as well just c-c-come over here."
Julian self-consciously cleared his throat and moved closer to run the tricorder over Garak. He was worried. His initial scans showed that Garak's core body temperature was dropping faster than he would like. Garak had seemingly already applied one of the heated blankets to his bed which didn't appear to be doing very much.
Julian distractedly gnawed on his bottom lip, entirely engrossed in his patient. "You are much colder than I would have expected, let me get the remaining blankets in here."
Garak was soon swaddled in another couple of layers of padding. He strongly suspected that Bashir had given up some, if not all, of his own bedding. While the temperature rose slightly, Garak was starting to feel too restricted and weighed down where he lay. He furiously tried to calm down and control his breathing, the last thing he needed was for the Doctor to notice his impending panic attack.
Julian was perplexed. Garak was showing some improvement, but new problems were simultaneously popping up elsewhere. Garak's heartrate was rising as rapidly as his oxygen absorption was declining. Given the finite amount of air, he was justly concerned. Without thinking, Julian leaned over his friend to place his hand on Garak's temple. The scales and ridges were cold and clammy under his fingertips, and he could feel Garak's pulse beating wildly below the surface.
Garak flinched at the touch but was becoming more concerned with the unpleasant sensation of being restrained and loomed over. "Doctor! Please can you g-give me a little room?"
"Oh, of course! Sorry." Julian took a step back and assessed the situation. "Is the extra weight of the blankets restricting your breathing Garak? If so, I'm sure we can figure something else out."
Garak nodded, he didn't trust himself to be able to properly articulate the problem. He would hate Bashir to witness yet another moment of weakness. Garak was thoroughly ashamed that he still had such difficulty with small spaces. His lack of ability to ignore his fear enough to function normally, was a failing that he felt keenly. He should, at the very least, be able to outwardly mask his discomfort better.
Garak could hear the Doctor moving around but had become lost in himself and wasn't sure exactly what was happening. He felt the pressure on his chest lessen and concluded that Bashir must have removed or at least rearranged his bedding. It was better, but not enough. Feeling overwhelmed, Garak made a move to get up himself. He needed to get out.
Julian sprang into action. "Whoa! Garak no. You need to stay put. Let me at least pull the covers back."
After stripping back all the blankets, Julian hesitated. There was something he could do, being a natural source of heat himself, but how would Garak react? He didn't want to make the Tailor more uncomfortable, but he was starting to run out of options. Garak needed to conserve his remaining thermal energy and clearly the blankets weren't enough. Ignoring how potentially inappropriate this could be, Julian made up his mind.
Garak was dumbfounded to feel his bed dip slightly under the weight of the Doctor. Panic rising, Garak voiced his concerns. "My Dear, what on Earth are you d-doing?"
Julian ignored the protest and lay down, facing towards his patient. Channelling his professional no-nonsense demeanour, Julian reached for Garak and pressed himself fully against the Cardassian's side. He brought his arms loosely around Garak's upper body and leant his face into the available expanse of neck ridges. Julian considered manoeuvring one of his legs to drape around him but thought that might be taking things a bit too far. It was a miracle that Garak hadn't already shoved him off and he didn't want to push his luck any further.
Julian tried to keep his voice as calm and soothing as possible, lightly stroking Garak's chest with his palm. "I would have thought that was obvious, I'm attempting to warm you up without further compromising your breathing."
Garak was lying flat on his back, frantically trying to calm down. Bashir's warmth was divinely distracting, and he found himself naturally wanting to curl towards it and draw the Doctor closer. Instead, he kept as still as he could and tried to match his breaths to Bashir's. In and out. In and out. In… and… out. That was more like it. Slow and steady.
Garak felt no need to further embarrass himself by clinging to the young man who was just trying to help, no matter how tempting the thought was. Garak reasoned that this closeness wouldn't last very long, the Doctor would more than likely remove himself shortly and perhaps fetch him a tranquiliser.
Garak should really have known better; things were never as simple as he'd like.
