Syed and Christian's Green Day

by AlexinBrum

For Jenn, from your secret fanfest friend!

There are 62 hidden Green Day song/album titles in this story.
How many can you find?

'Come on Sy. It's as easy as... I dunno... uno, dos, tre.'

'Not that easy if you don't speak Spanish, then. Besides, I don't care how easy
it is. I'm not doing it.'

'Come on Sy. Don't leave me to do all this all by myself. Do you have no pride
in our home at all?'

'Christian, turn off the tap, put down the tea towel and walk away. There is
no point cleaning while the ankle biters are still here making everything
sticky.'

'I am not having your mother come round and find the place in this state -
kids or no kids. I'll never hear the end of it.'

'Christian, you have nothing to prove to my mother. Not any more. I know
you don't believe me, but she really is OK with me, with us, with everything.
She will not start hating you again because there is a dirty teacup in the sink.'
'Sy, your mother may be on the road to acceptance, but she's still 2,000 light
years away from arriving. I'm not giving her any opportunity to say I'm not
looking a,er you properly. One step out of line and she'll be all "I knew that
man was never good enough for my Pappoo".'

Syed couldn't help chuckling at Christian's eerily accurate impression of his
mother. And, despite his protests, Christian pulled off the rubber gloves and
threw himself down on the floor in front of the sofa, resting his cheek on
Syed's thigh. Syed's hand moved subconsciously to Christian's scalp, moving
his fingers tenderly through the short hair while Yasmin sat on the carpet in
front of them, furiously hammering large, colourful, plastic pegs into
different shaped holes.

Christian gazed at her adoringly. 'We have a beautiful daughter', he sighed.
'We certainly do.' They sat there peacefully, their serene expressions a stark
contrast to Yasmin's look of fierce determination as she wielded the mallet
with full force.

Suddenly a loud, tinny rendition of the Birdie Song startled them out of their
happy reverie. Syed rolled his eyes at the ring tone as Christian pulled out his
mobile and glanced at the screen. He groaned.

'It's that guy from the gym in Greenwich. I'd better take it. They're probably
rescheduling everything - again.'

He stood up and headed wearily to the bedroom to get his diary. 'Hi Brad.
Great to hear from you. Everything still OK for next week?'

As the bedroom door swung closed, Syed saw that Yasmin had completed her
task and was looking inquisitively around to see what else she could examine
with the hammer. He quickly popped all the plastic shapes out of the holes so
she could start again, ignoring her look of contempt at his willful destruction
of her masterpiece. Syed then snapped on the rubber gloves and finished the
washing up. Christian was right. If the flat wasn't spotless when his mother
arrived they would never hear the end of it.

Ten minutes later Syed had just slumped back down on the sofa when
Christian came storming out of the bedroom.

'Those dirty, rotten bastards! Particularly that Brad guy. He's a jackass, an
American idiot, and I'm a complete chump for letting him get away with it.
He's had so much plastic surgery on his face he might as well have a
prosthetic head yet he has the temerity to question me about my training
methods. I swear next time he suggests changing the programme I'm going
to...'

'Christian! Not in front of the children.'

A glance down at three pairs of wide, concerned eyes and Christian's inferno
was quenched. He took a deep breath, put on an enormous fake smile and
spoke through gritted teeth. 'See kiddies, everything's fine. Daddy's just
dandy. In fact, daddy's delighted. Because that lovely man from the gym has
cancelled next week's training course for the THIRD time, daddy has time to
take a holiday and get as far away from the lovely man as possible, before he
goes round there and tells him what he really thinks of him.'

'Sorry to break this to you, but you're not going anywhere. If the training's
been postponed, so has your pay cheque.'

'Sy, pleeeeeease.' whined Christian, 'I need a break.'

'I don't care. We can't afford it.'

'Oh come on Sy. Don't be so uptight. Carpe diem. Let yourself go a little. We
can't be that broke. We haven't been away anywhere nice for ages.'

'Poor Christian. Your life is just one long walk along the boulevard of broken
dreams, isn't it? God forbid you have to spend any more time at home with
your husband and daughter. Who, incidentally, has been a nightmare
recently.'

Syed looked despairingly at Amy and Kamil, who were quietly occupying
themselves with a game of Kerplunk, colourful plastic sticks scattered all over
the carpet. They weren't even trying to poke them into each other.

'They are such sweet children, Christian. Why is Yas such a brat? Is it our
fault? Do we indulge her too much?'

Christian sat down next to Syed and li,ed his husband's legs up onto his lap.
'She's a rebel. Just like her daddy. And an extraordinary girl. Aren't you Yas?'
Christian gazed on her adoringly as she pummeled the plastic shapes wildly.

'She's a spoilt drama queen, and you know it. And which daddy do you mean,
exactly?'

'Me, of course.'

'You? A rebel? With your nuclear family, nice flat and steady job. The forces
of conservatism must be quaking in their boots.'

'They are. Because I am an oppressed minority and yet I refuse to conform to
society's expectations. Despite the common assumption that all gay men
should lead debauched, hedonistic lifestyles, I choose to be an upstanding,
monogamous family man. Thus rebelling against society's established norms.'
'Hold on a minute. Surely that makes me an even bigger rebel? As a gay,
Muslim Asian I'm a minority within a minority within a minority.'

'And that's why I fell for you. Which means I am a minority who is married to
a minority within a minority within a minority. And that is why I am the rebel
in this relationship.'

Syed's head hurt. Christian's logic was as impenetrable as his mother's. Trying
to argue with him was like trying to sculpt with smoke - you just ended up
choking and disorientated. The smoke won every time.

'Mind you,' Christian continued wistfully, 'despite my naturally rebellious
nature, there has been the odd occasion when I wished I was straight.'

'Oh yeah?' Syed sensed that he was about to be regaled with another chapter
from 'Christian Clark: My Colourful Past', and settled back against the
cushions to enjoy it. 'Like when?'

'Well, there was this one time, when I was 16.'

'Ahhh. Sweet 16.'

'Well, not so sweet actually.' The naughty glint in Christian's eye blazed
brightly as the memory came into focus.

'I used to hang around with this girl. Her parents thought she was a goodygoody,
y'know all polite and obedient and church on a Sunday. Her dad was a
judge and was always banging on about responsibility and respect and she
just nodded and took it. But when the two of us got together, especially if
we managed to get our hands on a bottle of vodka, well, you can probably
imagine...'

'I don't need to imagine, Christian, I was there. I've seen the train wreck that
is you and Roxy a,er a night out, remember? So, you and the judge's
daughter...'

Amanda. Well, this one time, me and Amanda, we were meant to be at the
library, doing our homework, but we were actually having a blast watching
Sunday league in the park, getting bladdered on alcopops. Anyway, we soon
got bored of that and decided to hang out in the local graveyard instead. You
know, contemplate the meaning of life, make up stories about the dead
people, decide which gravestones we'd have, the usual.'

'Usual for you maybe. Some of us actually did go to the library and do our
homework.'

'More fool you then. Well, by the time we got to the churchyard it had
started raining, so we thought we'd try and get into the church, keep dry.
A,er a lot of tugging and pushing, we crashed through these massive
wooden doors, stumbling all over the place, two pissed teenagers giggling
and screeching, just as the vicar was saying 'Dearly beloved...'. We'd only gone
and gate crashed some poor sod's wedding. We ended up decorating the
antique Armatage Shanks basin in the vestry with various shades of Bacardi
Breezer, while the mother of the bride held back Amanda's hair and the best
man phoned the police to come and remove us. We certainly made it a day to
remember, for all the wrong reasons. I wonder if we made it into the
wedding album?'

Syed laughed with an unrestrained joy. He loved Christian's stories. The
spontaneity and inhibition were so different from his own sober and
controlled upbringing. He was partly shocked, although much less now than
he used to be, partly envious and partly full of grateful wonder that the
human hurricane that was Christian Clark had chosen to fix his epicentre on
him, Syed Masood, still wreaking havoc for all around him, but the two of
them calm and safe at the heart of the storm. As Syed wiped the tears of
mirth from his eyes, Christian the entertainer continued to perform to his
captive and captivated audience.

'I remember thinking at the time, while we were sobering up in the police
cell, it was a shame I was gay. We would've made a great couple. She could
have been my take-no-prisoners, rock and roll girlfriend and we could have
set the world on fire. Probably literally.'

Syed felt a sudden stab of unreasonable jealousy, knowing it was ridiculous,
but still blurting out a little too quickly, 'So did you and whatsername keep in
touch?'

Christian noted Syed's obvious irritation and loved him for it. 'Nah. She was a
bit of a basket case. Turned into a serious shopli,er and it got a bit much,
even for me. Besides, I'm glad I'm gay. I think my love life turned out pretty
good in the end.'

Two pairs of happy, loving eyes met across the scatter cushions and fingers
entwined.

'Yeah, I guess it did.'

The touching moment was shattered by a crash, followed by screams of
anguish. Yasmin had just wielded her hammer of destruction on the Kerplunk
and Kamil and Amy had not taken it well. Yasmin, however, sat amongst the
debris with a smile of mischievous satisfaction.

Zainab and Roxy had been and gone, removing their contented, drowsy
children. Yasmin had protested at being put to bed, but a few stories and
Christian's unique rendition of 'Paparazzi' had eventually drained her
batteries. In the nursery doorway, Christian wrapped his arms around Syed's
waist and Syed leant back against the warmth of Christian's chest. They
lingered there, swaying gently to the jangling lullaby coming from Yas's
windup plastic bluebird and watching her fingers curl around Moosey's
stripey antler as she slept.

'What are you thinking?' whispered Christian.

'I was just thinking that, if this was my last night on earth, it'd be OK.
Because life really can't get any better than this.'

Christian squeezed even tighter and Syed pressed himself even closer into
Christian's body.

'What are you thinking Clarkey?'

'I was just remembering back to when we first started seeing each other. All
those times I was missing you, longing for you to stay the night. Waiting for
you to choose me, choose us. I never dreamed it would be this good.'
'I know. All the time we wasted. All that energy spent trying to fight it, reject
you, be somebody I wasn't. All the misery I caused. But back then, it all felt
like too much, too soon.' He turned around in Christian's' arms, cupped
Christian's face tenderly and murmured seductively, 'Now I can't get enough.'

They kissed. Long, slow and tender. Lips and tongues following familiar
patterns, expressing and savouring their deep contentment. When their
mouths parted, their foreheads remained touching, hands gently stroking
each other's hair.

'I'm warning you, Syed Masood, keep that up and you'll be stuck with me.'

'No chance. I'm just hitchin' a ride until the next kind, funny, brave, loving
and fabulously sexy personal trainer comes along.'

'Yeah, yeah, yeah. And the rest. You are a dominated love slave and you know
it. No escape for you.'

Exactly the same look of mischievous satisfaction that Yasmin had displayed
earlier was now playing across Syed's face, but for very different reasons. 'Are
you thinking what I'm thinking?'

Christian felt his pulse quicken in anticipation.

'Handcuffs?'

'Handcuffs.'

'You are a bad, bad man, Syed Masood.'

'Well, nice guys finish last. Which I guess means bad guys come first.'

Christian's mouth dropped open in feigned horror at the innuendo. Then
stretched into an enormous grin.

'Well I guess we'd better go test out that theory.'

'I guess we better had.'

There were many things Christian and Syed were grateful for in the
wonderful life they shared together. But of all the things that enriched their
world, perhaps the one they were most frequently thankful for was that their
daughter was a heavy sleeper.