"You know, I've never put a collar on anyone before." Bashir cards his fingers through Francis' hair, moving down to cradle the back of his head. As leans in to adjust the buckle, his expression is fond and affectionate and he presses a quick kiss to the top of Francis' head.

"Now, I have some reading and work to finish, but I would like you to lay down and rest your head in my lap." Assuming that Francis does as he's told, Bashir will get to work and absently just keep touching his friend as if he's a treasured pet.