AN 1: This fic is for the lovely Meg-Icy. She gave a generous donation to the charities Stonewall and Imaan and won this fic at the Chryedcon auction. Hope you enjoy it Meg
Summary: When Christian and Syed leave Walford behind to go to Florida, they still have a long way to go. From the beginning, they've always been able to connect on a physical level. They decide to find out how they cope without that part of their relationship for a while. After two weeks, this is what happens…
AN 2: This fic takes place about two weeks after their arrival in Florida. It's written from Syed's POV and Christian's POV alternately.
Whole Again – by rome81
That first touch takes my breath away. Just a simple touch really, his right hand splayed gently on my chest. But it's the intent what matters.
I didn't realise, didn't know it would be this way. Christian's touch has always been such a powerful thing to me, so perhaps this shouldn't have surprised me as much as it does.
I look up and give him a cautious smile. I'm not sure what this means, or rather, I'm afraid to believe what I hope it means. My eyes search his face for some kind of sign, an encouraging look, a warm smile, anything…
As I look into his eyes, I forget to breathe. The way he looks at me… It's all there, all of it. I can't believe how open he looks, how unguarded. I almost forgot he could look like that, look at me this way. And now that I remember, I can't look away. This is the man I love, all of him, beautiful, perfect, mine.
'I love you so much,' he says, his words soft but clear.
The oxygen rushes back into my lungs with such speed that I almost choke on it. I'm not sure if that's what causes the tears to start flowing down my cheeks, or if it's the words themselves. I can't believe this. But I want to. More than anything.
'Christian, I…' I start.
He shakes his head.
'Shhh…' he says, placing a finger on my lips gently. 'None of that now'.
I don't pretend not to understand. Because that's not what I do. Not anymore. I promised him that on the plane and I've kept my word.
I can't believe how easy it has been. Once I started to talk, really talk, open up to him, not hold back… It's become natural to me so quickly. I'm never going to be as open as he is, not with other people. But now I know that I can be, want to be, with him.
If I didn't want to lose him, I couldn't hold back, not any more. What I didn't know was how much of a relief it would be to me as well as to him. I never realised how stifling it was, holding back like that. I've been doing it all my life, though I've always let him see far more than anyone else. But not all of me. Not all the time. Until now.
'Alright,' I concede. 'Alright. I love you too Christian. Always'.
He smiles down at me and my heart skips a beat. We've become friends in these last couple of weeks, close friends, and it's been wonderful. I've got to know him all over again, got to re-learn all those wonderful things about him that made me fall in love with him in the first place. How generous he is, how warm. And his big heart, capable of forgiving me and loving me always. He makes me want to be a better man.
oOo
I believe him. No doubt, no hesitation. He loves me. And he's mine. I've never been so sure of that as I am right now. I take a shaky breath as I feel the truth of those words.
'I know,' I whisper.
His eyes widen and he clamps his hand over mine, holding it firmly in place. God I've missed this… It's been so tough holding back, but I had to. I've always been a touchy-feely kind of person, touching people freely while talking to them, or to emphasise a point I'm trying to make. But I never knew how instinctive those touches had become to me, until I had to stop.
I haven't touched Syed in two weeks. It feels like forever. Whatever problems we've had in the past, we've always found each other effortlessly through touch. It would have been easy for us to fall right back into that pattern, to touch him, hold him, fuck him.
But we've been there before. As wonderful as it would have been, it wouldn't have solved anything in the long run. So I held myself back, difficult as it was, and listened.
It took him a while to start talking, but once he finally did, he didn't hold back. Of course, we've told each other so much already over the past couple of years, all the important stuff. I've never known anyone as well as I know him. These two weeks have been all about learning more, no detail too small.
We laughed at the way Zainab used to "subtly" try and influence him in his choice of clothes, friends, subjects in school, anything. I cried when he explained to me about his relationship with Masood, examples of how desperately Sy has tried to please him all his life. I was quiet when he told me more about his friends in school and from the mosque. It's another life almost, something I was never a part of. I drank it in, all of it, the mistakes he made, the accomplishments he achieved and everything in between.
I blink as I suddenly feel the touch of his hand on my cheek.
'Are you still here?' he asks me quietly.
'Yeah,' I say.
He looks unconvinced. His right hand lingers on my cheek while his left hand still holds mine to his chest. I see more than words are needed to convince him. Luckily, that works out perfectly for what I had planned. Slowly, I retract my hand from his and grab hold of the hem of my shirt instead. His eyes cloud over for a moment, I can tell he's worried I'm pulling back from him. But then I pull off my shirt in one quick swoop and stand before him, looking at him with eyes that I know are full of challenge.
He laughs breathlessly.
'Christian… are you sure?' he asks.
His hands are clasping and unclasping by his side, I can see how much they yearn to reach out to me. An answering yearning causes a shiver to run down my spine.
'God yes,' I say fervently.
The words have barely left my lips before he steps in and wraps his arms around me, holding me so tight it makes it hard to breathe. But I don't care. I simply lean in and embrace him back, bowing my head so I can burry my nose in his hair. I feel him in my arms, breathe in his familiar scent, and everything is all right. And it really is this time. Because there is nothing standing in between us, not now, not anymore.
We stand there in silence for I don't know how long. His arms have relaxed slightly, as if he trusts me not to let go. He mumbles something, I don't know what. His face is buried against my shoulder, which makes it difficult for me to hear the words.
'What?' I ask.
He pulls back reluctantly, just a little bit, just enough to make sure I can hear him when he repeats his words.
'I said I've missed this. So much,' he confesses. 'I know things are all right between us now. I mean, I knew that before, because of the way we've talked and really listened to each other. But now I feel it. If that makes any sense'.
He shrugs helplessly and flushes a bit, like he's embarrassed having admitted that. Quickly, he ducks his head and rubs his cheek against my chest. I sigh, feeling deeply content.
'It does,' I admit. Because I've never been as sure of anything as I am of us right now. I knew it before I touched him. But that knowledge is deeper now somehow, stronger and more confident. It feels good. So good. I'm surprised to find I've somehow released him of his shirt and am rubbing my hands in smooth circles on his back and arse. He gives a tiny shiver that I find incredibly gratifying. I laugh softly and start backing him towards the bedroom.
It feels as if I've stretched my patience as far as it will go. I've not touched Syed, not held him, in two weeks. And I was ok with that. It was difficult at times, of course it was, but I could do it. Because we needed the time, needed the trust, needed the distance to come to where we are now.
But enough is enough. I need him, need to be with him right now, and the way he eagerly lets me lead him to the bedroom, tells me he feels exactly the same.
oOo
He guides me backwards, in between the twin beds. I sit down on the one that has been mine and he lowers himself on the other bed.
This house belongs to friends of Christian's Mum. An older couple who've retired here as so many other people have. They're visiting their son at the moment, which is why Christian and I could stay here.
It's been good to have the privacy to sort ourselves out. The house is fine, small, decorated in a style more suited to the senior citizens that live here. But at least it's plain, not overly flowery or frilly.
These beds have been a thorn in my side though. Not that they're offensive in any way, they're comfortable enough and covered in crisp wide sheets. It's the fact that they've been painfully symbolic for the physical distance between us.
It was fine at night, once we were both tucked in. I just closed my eyes, so I could forget about the gap between us, and we'd talk and talk… That part has been wonderful actually, chatting the night away, talking about everything from our childhood to our favourites in food, music or films. I laughed so hard I got stitches in my sides that night that he started belting out the terrible eighties songs he used to dance the night away to. Most of the stuff he told me, I'd heard before, only now with lots of extra details that made the memories come alive for me.
He told me other things as well, painful sometimes, like that time he told me about his friend Henry who died of Aids over fifteen years ago. He told me so many things, I know so much more about him now than I ever did. And every single thing I learned, made me love him even more.
'So…'
I jump a little, having drifted off into thoughts. I look at him and see the comprehension in his eyes. There's no resentment in that look, just a shared understanding of what this time has meant to us.
'Yeah?' I say, as he remains silent.
'I was thinking,' he says, looking me up and down with a wicked glint in his eyes, 'Your place or mine?'
He pats the bed invitingly as he gives me one of those lingering stares. In seconds, I've leaped over to his bed and pushed him flat on his back. I straddle his thighs and look down on him in satisfaction.
'Oh I've been dreaming about creeping into this bed for two weeks now,' I say cheekily. 'No way I'm refusing that invitation'.
I lean down and finally, finally, kiss him.
I'm lost. Time slows down around me, or it speeds up, I'm not really sure. Christian is my sole focus right now, he is all I feel, see, taste… My eyes are wide open, unblinking, afraid to miss even a single glimpse. Only when my eyes begin to sting, I close them and allow myself to sink even deeper into the kiss.
His hands dart around my body, light touches to my chest, my spine, my hips. His hands are everywhere and every single touch of them makes me shiver. His touch is electric, but pleasantly so. I'd feel it was unfair, if I didn't see him shake and shudder beneath me as my hands do some exploring of their own.
Finally, the movements of his hands settle down, and he lays them to rest on my arse. I sigh into his mouth, able to concentrate fully on the kiss now. His tongue is involved in a laze kind of dance with mine. I twist and curl my tongue around his and he follows my every move. There's no rush, not now, not now that we've made it. It doesn't matter that we'll be going back to England soon. We've found each other, reconnected, and that will remain true wherever we go.
I let out an undignified gasp as he suddenly squeezes my arse and bucks his hips up against me. He tugs at the belt loops on my jeans persistently.
'Take. These. Off. Now,' he orders sternly.
I laugh breathlessly and give him a challenging look.
'Why don't you… make me?' I taunt him.
He doesn't need to be told twice. In seconds, I'm completely naked and pinned down beneath him. I give him my best pout.
'Not fair,' I complain, while giving him a quick slap on his still clothed arse. 'How come I'm the only one without any clothes here?'
Christian gives me a mock solemn look.
'Oh dear. We can't have that, now can we,' he says.
'We really can't,' I agree gravely.
I'm not sure who did what, but soon after I'm feeling his naked body pushed flush against mine. The sense memories are so intense, that a shudder rips through me. This feels so good, so right…
I struggle to get my arms free so I can wrap them tightly around him, holding him in place. This is where he needs to be, where I need him to be, always. I raise my head to meet his lips in an all devouring kiss. His heat burns me. Exactly like it should.
oOo
His kiss makes my head spin. I lose myself, sink into the oh so familiar touch of his skin, the taste of his mouth, the scent of his hair. I'd planned this out so carefully, I was going to go slow, be gentle, take my time. But my body responds to his as it always has and I can do nothing but give in. Which I do happily.
He has a devastating power over me, the power to make me tremble or scream with a simple touch. But all I have to do is look at him to see I hold that same power over him.
I pull my head back a little and brush my hand down his side experimentally. He moans beautifully, arching his body to meet my touch. I chuckle softly. He lifts his head up to nip at my lips as in punishment.
Soon, I'm absorbed in reacquainting myself with his body. I lift myself up a little so my hands and lips have more room to explore. I kiss a trail down his chest, using my lips, my tongue and sometimes even my teeth. He shudders and moans beneath me, encouraging me, urging me on. My hands follow the same trail, lingering around first his nipples and then his bellybutton.
'Christian…'
As he gasps my name, he throws back his head and hisses. I hum contentedly against his skin, my hands sliding down his legs to come to rest behind his knees.
After that the movements blur and melt together in my head. I touch him, stroke the sensitive skin of his inner thighs, his knees, his upper arms, everywhere. The touches are gentle at times, caressing, cradling, worshipping even. But then the emotions heat up and my touches become more insistent, more forceful and sometimes close to rough.
Finally, Syed's cock is in my mouth and he's panting, his body heaving with his heavy breaths. My heart is pounding, beating fast in a rhythm that answers only to his. I suck him, curl my tongue around his cock in an urgent way, not stopping until he screams my name as he comes down my throat. I hold him still, keep him in my mouth until the last spasm of his orgasm has died and his breath begins to calm.
When I pull back and look up to meet his eyes, my heart almost stops. His dark eyes are burning, such heat radiating from them that it singes me. I yelp as he lunges at me, helpless to resist as he pushes me down and hovers over me. His mouth is mere inches away from my cock, but he doesn't make a move to close the distance. I feel his hot breath touching the tip of my yearning erection. It's excruciating. In the end, it's the eyes that do me in, relentless, full on, looking at me like I am everything.
'Sy…' I moan, shamelessly thrashing on the narrow bed, begging him to take me in his mouth.
When he finally, finally, closes his lips around my cock, I cry out in both pleasure and relief.
'Yes… God yes… please, please Sy, please…'
I'm not sure what else I'm mumbling, I don't care, as long as he's here, doing that. Fuck, that's good…
My orgasm catches me off guard, coming fast and hard, leaving me trembling mess.
'Sy…' I breathe.
He gives me a dazzling smile, touches my cheek and curls himself up against my body. The bed is too small for this really, but right now, it feels just right. He sighs as he rests his head on my chest and closes his eyes.
'You're beautiful,' I whisper, stroking his hair.
He presses a gentle kiss to my chest before answering.
'So are you,' is all he says.
We are quiet for a while after that, just enjoying each other's closeness. I can't stop touching him, wanting to see and hear him respond to me. And he does.
He has a way of touching me that makes me come alive. His lips tickle me, his teeth scrape at my skin before his tongue laps to sooth it again. His hands are relentless, touching me everywhere he can reach. They start out as a gentle caress, a brush of my thighs, a stroke down my chest.
I answer his touches brush for brush, stroke for stroke. It isn't long before my cock starts taking an interest again, and my touches become more insistent.
'Want you. Want you so much,' I pant.
He nods, climbing on top of me, straddling my hips.
'Yes,' he urges, 'Yes, please, come on…'
He reaches out to me, his blunt finger nails almost scraping my skin as he rakes his fingers down my chest. I hiss my breath and my hips jerk up without my consent.
'Sorry,' he says, 'sorry, can't wait, please… been so long, please…'
'Sy… want you so much,' I say in return.
He gives me a quick kiss in acknowledgement and then grasps my hand and pulls my fingers into his mouth. He sucks at them, licks at them, wetting them thoroughly. I can't help but stare at him, completely transfixed, only snapping out of my trance when he releases my fingers with an audible pop.
I take that as my cue and start preparing him, trying to be gentle, but incapable of going slow. He winces a bit, and I start to pull back. But then he opens his eyes and glares at me, clenching his arse around my fingers and trapping them in place. Cautiously I start moving them again.
'Hmmmm…' he mumbles approvingly.
I stretch him, adding another finger and thrusting them in and out, again and again. He gives a delicious sigh and starts pushing himself down on my fingers eagerly.
When I manage to twist my fingers up just right and nudge his prostate, he throws back his head and cries out my name. God he's beautiful like this, giving himself up to the pleasure, looking shameless and free. And mine.
All of a sudden I can't wait, not a second longer. I pull my hand back, spit in it and start slicking my cock with saliva. He arranges himself above me eagerly, slapping my hand away impatiently. He lowers himself on my cock, grimacing with the initial pain.
'You're an idiot,' I admonish him.
He looks down on me and laughs.
'I'm your idiot,' he corrects me.
'Yes,' I answer him, without hesitation. 'Yes you are'.
oOo
I can't help it, I'm beaming with pleasure at those simple words.
'And you're mine,' I tell him.
Because he is, and everything is simple now. We're together, in every way, and nothing will ever change that. I smile down at him and start to move.
He cries out my name and starts moving with me. The feeling of being with him, having him inside of me, heals every last trace of the wounds still remaining. We move together, knowing instinctively when to slow down and when to speed up again. Our movements are fluid, effortless, bringing pleasure until it's almost impossible to take.
His hand holds my hip in a possessive grip, while the other strokes my cock in quick, thorough movements. I revel in the feeling, showing him my appreciation by moaning his name, over and over again.
When I feel my orgasm approaching, I open my eyes and lock my eyes onto his. He cries out helplessly as I clench down around him, his climax ripping through him in shuddering waves.
That is enough to tip me over the edge. My own climax grips me, the pleasure so intense it is almost painful. I arch my back and cry out, unable and unwilling to hold myself back.
Sated, I collapse on top of him in an undignified pile of limbs. Immediately, his arms close around me and he holds me tight. I lay my ear against his chest and listen to the pounding of his heart as it slows down to a more sedated pace.
This is where I want to be. It's where I belong.
'We always were a perfect fit,' Christian mumbles in answer to my unspoken words.
I smile and nuzzle at his chest.
'Yes,' I agree.
We both know the word contains more than the answer to one question. It's yes to this. To us. Always.
oOo
Reviews? Why yes please :)