A/N: I suddenly had inspiration for this fic in the middle of the night, so I hope it doesn't look too much like I wrote it at 2am! It's set just before, during, and after Christian and Syed's perfect moment on 16/4/2010. Some of the dialogue is mine, and some is from EastEnders itself. No copyright infringement intended.

Syed's POV

I held my breath, threatening tears stinging my tired eyes. "...I've got to go."

"Then go."

I gazed into his waiting face, ready to say goodbye again, but something in his twinkling emerald green eyes stopped me. Those eyes didn't just look at me and see the good little Muslim boy, decorating his flat to move in with his newlywed wife, that everyone else saw. Those eyes saw into me. They saw a devoted man, lost and exhausted by the effort of keeping up this constant facade. They saw the real Syed, the one who cried himself to sleep every night because he was hurting two innocent people; his wife and his lover. Something about those eyes drew me in every time. That was why I'd kissed him... I shouldn't have kissed him. We both knew that after that kiss, I wouldn't be going anywhere.

I let the silence hang between us. I couldn't leave him. The vibrant, easy-going, confident man in front of me looked different in the dark. He looked sad... and alone. And it was my fault. I couldn't leave him like that. I wouldn't.

I hesitantly touched the stubble on his left cheek, my body zinging with electricity at even this small touch. "I'm sorry. You deserve better than me."

His eyes softened. "Go home, Sy. Your family will be waiting." My hand froze as my thudding heartbeats echoed across the empty room.

"But I don't want to lose you. You're the one I care about."

There. I'd said it. I looked at his expression expectantly, but there was nothing. Perhaps a small flicker of emotion in his eyes, but that could have been a car's headlights reflecting in them as it drove past the window. I tried to cover up my dry sob as a sigh, dropped my hand to my side and moved towards the door. His words from that morning echoed through my mind. "Either you are with me, or you are not. I am better than this. Either be with me, or just leave me alone." It was too late. I'd got what I deserved... I'd already lost him. He was better than this, so much better, and he deserved so much more than I could give him in this life. I'd go home, paste that smile back on my face and have dinner with my family. Like the good son, good man and good Muslim that I was. My heart was breaking, but I didn't need to break theirs too.

Suddenly, a strong hand gripped my wrist and broke my train of thought, twisting my body until I was facing back into the room I'd been leaving.

"You won't lose me, Sy. You won't ever lose me, unless you want to."

I took a deep breath, his touch automatically giving me the energy to speak again. "Never?"

"I promise."

I collapsed into his embrace, sighing as our lips collided. His mouth, so smooth, warm and inviting, relaxed me as our bodies melted together. His soft, wet tongue gently pushed my lips apart and touched against mine, teasing me in the way he knew I loved. Suddenly, I didn't need to worry about anything else; I had Christian, and that was all that mattered.

Sparks of electricity flitting through my body, I tugged on his coat from behind his back and he relaxed his arms long enough to allow me me to pull his coat off. He reciprocated the action, and I backed up against the wall as my coat joined his on the floor, pulling him with me, suddenly needing to feel his body pressing flush against mine. I couldn't breathe but I didn't want to; everything felt just like it was how it was meant to be. We were two pieces of a puzzle, and nothing was right in the world until we fit ourselves together.

His lips attacking mine and his hands tangled in my hair, I lifted his vest slightly and touched my fingertips against the skin just above his waistline. With a slight intake of breath at the unexpected touch he shoved his groin into mine, giving me the go-ahead. I expertly unbuttoned his jeans and grasped hold of his silky smooth hardness. Christian moaned and pushed himself into my hand. I needed him, and I could feel he needed me too. I gently untangled one of his hands from my hair and guided it down to my jeans. "Please..."

Christian grunted in response and roughly pulled my jeans open, moaning again as he felt how hard I was.

I barely even noticed the pain as he pushed himself inside me in one rapid yet still gentle movement, the pleasure overriding my senses and taking my breath away. I could feel the clamminess of his skin under his vest, smell the faint yet intoxicating smell of his aftershave, hear his groans and whimpers, and feel the indescribable pleasure of him... a pleasure only he could bring me. All the pent up tension of the day released itself in five swift movements, my breath hitching and Christian's body shuddering as we climaxed in unison, pressing ourselves against the wall in such a way that our shaking legs wouldn't give way right there and then.

I waited for the twang of guilt that I knew I should be feeling. My family... and my wife... were patiently sitting at home with my birthday meal, waiting for my return, yet here I was claiming the best birthday present of all from my secret lover. But the guilt never came. I knew it was wrong, but at the same time, how could I think of something that felt this right as something so unforgivable?

Christian was the first to move, raining kisses down my now damp shirt as he bent down and pulled up my jeans, fastening them for me, and then his own. My heart swelled with love but any words would have seemed inadequate, so I simply stilled his face with my hands and looked deeply into his eyes. He smiled back, and my heart flipped. There was the glint in his eye again.

I'd found the fire that seemed to reignite every time we were together like this.

"Christian..."

He pressed a finger to my lips to silence me and took my hand, leading me across the room. "Come here... lie down." The words were just a whisper on his lips.

Unwilling and unable to disobey I sank to the floor, tugging his hand suddenly and causing him to almost fall on top of me. "Ha, got you!" I grinned as he regained his balance and lay next to me, resting his head on one arm. "Cheeky! And there I was trying to be kind and supportive, well that's the last time I'll do that..."

His words faded away as we stared into each others' eyes. Something felt different. It had always been different with Christian - everything more intense and memorable than ever before - but tonight we didn't even feel like joking around. I loved this man, and he loved me, and nothing could ever change that... and suddenly I realised that I wanted him as more than just an affair, more than just my dirty little secret; I wanted him to be my life.

He raised his right arm and softly pushed my hair out of my face, before tracing a path down my face and gently, ever so gently, brushing over my lips. "I love you," he mouthed, almost imperceptibly. I heard the beating of my heart and the whisper of his soft, entrancing breaths as his mouth lowered to meet mine again. My hand stroked the back of his neck as the tenderness of his touch filled my being.

A voice broke the tranquillity around us. "I'm sorry."

I jumped, looking over Christian's head to see the retreating shape of a man. I couldn't see his face but his body shape and posture seemed remarkably like... no, it couldn't be. Please, no. My fears jumped out of my mouth before I could stop them. "Was that my dad?"

And suddenly, the guilt hit me like a truck. What was I doing? I had a perfect life made for me, and here I was selfishly giving into my desires and risking everything. What if he'd seen us together? He would never forgive me. I had to get out.

-x-x-x-

And so here I am, lying in bed, emotional pain crippling me. I couldn't face Amira tonight so I'd had an early night, pretending to be asleep when she'd followed me up half an hour later. I couldn't face Christian either, so I'd called him and pretended everything was fine, before hanging up on him. I had hoped that saying the words out loud would have convinced me of their truth, but they hadn't. Dad told me he had seen Christian with 'another man', but I knew immediately that he'd seen me. The way he'd glared at me with a pointed, "That kind of thing, it's just wrong", had chilled me to the bone. He'd seen me alright... but he wasn't like my mother. Maybe he'd give me enough time to sort this out.

If I turn my head to the left I can see my wife sleeping beside me. She's beautiful and loyal, would be a dream spouse for many men; she can do so much better than me. She doesn't deserve to have her lying, cheating husband smash her very being into smithereens. Now I can imagine Christian's face in my mind – such a benevolent, caring, loving man – I don't deserve him either. All I've ever done is raise his hopes before dashing them, time and time again. He needs so much more than I'll ever be able to give him. This is all my fault. What have I done?

Everything I felt and said earlier was real... I want Christian. Just Christian. I need him like I need oxygen to breathe. I know my situation is impossible, and everybody's going to get hurt if I tell the truth. But my dad knows... the secret's out. Time is running out, and I'm incapable of stopping it.