writertobridge:

Yes, please, I need fluffy things right now.

Home

Cardassia, Garak’s Cardassia, was in shambles. Gone. Dust. Yes, dust. He thought about going back to help rebuild, but there was no point. Not anymore. Despite their ties to the planet, many Cardassians abandoned Cardassia Prime for lives off the planet’s surface. A saving grace, considering the Federation all but destroying it in a brutal attempt to clear away the Dominion. It was at the request of the acting Cardassian government. Garak hated them for it, but not the Federation. He couldn’t quite get himself to. Not when it had gifted him such a delightful life now.

Each morning for years, Garak woke up on Deep Space Nine to a warm similar to but unlike the Cardassian nights. He always snuggled close to it, always let his nose brush through the ray-like hairs that started to gray as the years drifted by. The human man responsible for the warmth and rays always, in some form, moaned and leaned into him. That morning, it was soft, unconscious. Julian was still asleep then. Fortunate. It meant Garak could revel in the early morning heat of their bed for just a little while longer. He closed his eyes and let his aging hands relax against the blue and white pajama fabric that regularly covered Julian’s body in the twilight hours.

Garak’s alertness hadn’t gone unnoticed, though. It never did.

Small hands and a tiny body crawled it’s way onto the bed. Garak opened his eyes and peered at the small boy, the human child, and watched as he scampered up his side and laid across his ribs, his large, blue eyes open and alert. Garak offered him a smile, removed one arm from Julian, and wrapped it around the boy’s small frame.

“Good morning, Ethan,” Garak whispered.

“Hi,” Ethan responded. There were no other greetings in the young boy’s vocabulary. A normalcy, Julian said. The boy was five but suffered from a condition called autism. Garak wasn’t familiar, but Julian insisted it wouldn’t be problematic. Social settings and developmental skills could be issues, and grasping some simply concepts might be out of his reach, but he would have something to contribute to at least their family; Julian was sure of it. Garak wasn’t sure Julian knew how right he was.

“Julian’s not awake yet,” Garak whispered.

Ethan’s eyes moved to Julian and somehow retained their wide innocence. They, then, flicked back to Garak.

“Food?”

Breakfast. The thought caused Garak’s stomach to nearly roar. Ethan’s eyes shot towards the source as his mouth slacked open. A hand tentatively pushed down towards the noise and pulled the comforter between Garak and Julian. Garak allowed it as those tiny fingers pressed against Garak’s mid-torso.

“That was my stomach,” Garak whispered.

“Monster,” the boy said. He didn’t seem frightened about the concept. No doubt Julian’s evening storytelling made Ethan believe he could take on the darkest beasts. Garak cracked a smile.

“No, stomach.”

“Monster.”

Garak slowly pulled the comforter away and revealed nothing but his cloth covered torso. He watched Ethan blink, tilt his head, and then rummage that small hand across his stomach in fast, rhythmic paces. At first, it appeared Ethan was looking for the self-proclaimed beast. Then, after a few brushes, something washed over the boy’s face. Comfort, contentment. It was the same face Ethan got when he pushed his hands into the rainbow bubble baths that Julian made for him. Ethan shifted on Garak’s side, put his legs against Garak’s back and rubbed both arms back and forth against Garak’s torso. The small fingers rubbed against Julian’s back as well, which caused the man to wake and peer over his shoulder, brown eyes squinting.

“He likes it,” Garak said. Those brown eyes met his. A softness reached them. Then Julian turned and faced them. One of the man’s lanky arms reached and brushed some black strands of wavy hair away from Ethan’s face.

“What do you like about it, Ethan?” Julian asked.

“It’s soft.”

A fair assessment. Garak pictured a similar fabric stored in his shop, just below some reams of Andorian silk. The two of them had talked about making Ethan a stuffed toy, something reminiscent of Julian’s beloved bear. Perhaps that was the fabric for it. After all, he could never outgrow a toy like he would outgrow clothes. Julian’s gaze met with his. There was a silent agreement. Garak would start it immediately.

“He came in here and asked for breakfast,” Garak said.

“I guess we better get up, then.”

They exchanged a kiss. Julian placed one on the crown of Ethan’s head as well before easing out of the bed and taking his warmth with him. He didn’t, however, take Ethan’s, who remained sprawled across Garak’s side as Julian prepared for the day ahead. Normally, Garak would have guided Ethan into the main room of their quarters and given Ethan his usual breakfast but for the moment he was content watching the boy and his sensory joy. It was a break from the norm, yes, but it made for a rather pleasant memory he could now add to his visions of home.