In the grand scheme of things, it really was a small thing - a tiny patch of skin on the back of his neck, peeking out above his collar,
right below the glossy black hair.

He walked behind Garak whenever he got the chance, just so he could see it, look at it - as if looking would ever be enough.  Gods, no.  It was mesmerizing: a soft dove grey that shimmered with iridescent fire when the light struck it...  What would it look like wet?  Would it be hot or cool, smooth or rough?  He wanted to know if it was as sensitive as he hoped, wondered what would happen if he were to lean in and press his lips to it, needed to know just how far down the broad back it went. He dreamed of  tasting it, touching it, smelling it, owning it. 

Yes, in the whole of the universe, one little patch of scales was insignificant.  But in Julian's mind and heart, it was nearly an obsession.

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