Just friends: Disguise [3]
Julian’s lips were soft. At least, it was what Julian was thinking himself because lips of the cardassian that was pressing him into wall seemed much more dry and rough — that, however, wasn’t depriving the touch of some delicacy. Having felt that he can breathe again, the doctor stared at Garak whose face got the impassive expression again with astonishment.
“Garak, what have you… done right now?”
The cardassian didn’t seem to seize the essence of the matter.
“What of my actions seemed unclear to you, doctor?”
Julian blushed, trying to maintain composure. But the idea of Garak looking damn good in the classic suit of the mid-twentieth century, according to the old earth calendar, didn’t want to leave his head. Having drawn an unmistakable conclusion from the prolonged silence about the possible causes of the doctor’s sudden embarrassment, the cardassian parted his lips in amazement.
“But haven’t you explained to me this trick that was frequently used in old spy movies yourself, have you? The hero kisses the heroine, and the pursuers run past without noticing them.”
“But Garak… we are just friends.”
“But they did ran past, didn’t they?”
chequerootlurks
