For Rhumbatugger and special thanks to Karendb for requesting the Jack bits :)
"I suppose it's only fair."
Syed watched Christian wrap the flex neatly around the vacuum cleaner and store it away in the cupboard.
"It is our turn, we've eaten loads of times at their houses."
Syed apathetically squirted Mr. Sheen onto the dining table.
"How many are coming? How are we going to fit them all round this?"
Christian shook a feather duster at him, biting back the temptation to say 'Tatifilarious' in case Syed was too young to know what he was on about.
"Tatifilarious" said Syed.
Christian chuckled and took an athletic swipe at a cobweb on the ceiling light.
"I thought you could pop along to Dagenham Dave's and pick us out a big one."
Syed frowned.
"The innuendo's will hurt my soul. Do I have too?"
Christian jumped higher, sending the light swinging and squeaking.
"Only joking. Ian said we could borrow a trestle table. He's probably going to charge us rent on it though."
"So he's coming then. Who else?"
Syed sat down and intently polished one small part of the surface in front of him.
"The usual suspects. Sam, Steve, Barry. Ian of course, oh joy. And Jane, Zahida and Roxy if they can get babysitters, we'll have to get out those fold up chairs. Is that your idea of cleaning?"
Syed leant back and theatrically wiped his brow.
"Housework bores me. There are so many babies in this square I bet the babysitters are raking it in. They probably all drive Ferrari's and own yachts."
Christian smiled at him indulgently, squeezing past to wipe off the venetian blinds.
"Give us the polish Sy you lazy article, I thought I was meant to be the Diva in this relationship. I blame that Jack Branning for the baby boom, he's the Sperminator. Either that or it's something in the water."
Syed wrinkled his nose in disgust.
"I've just had a vision of him on the banks of the reservoir."
"Jack jacking off into the water supply? Don't ever get too near him, he'll get you up the duff. And stop thinking about other men."
Christian squinted at the dirty window.
"Shall I clean them or just keep the blinds closed?"
Syed looked across.
"It'll be dark won't it? And we'd have to be bloody awful hosts if they're so bored they start checking how grubby our windows are. They'll be too entertained by our sparkling wit and fine cuisine. I think I'd be quite safe with Jack you know, seeing as my surname isn't Mitchell."
Christian pulled the blinds down and put away the cleaning materials, turning his attention to sorting through a stack of C.D's.
"Don't be too sure Sy. Anyway, how can you tell it isn't really me sneaking out and impregnating all those defenceless damsels? My extreme homosexuality may just be a cunningly elaborate sham."
"It's got me fooled." Syed shuddered "Eww girly bits. Vile."
Christian turned and pulled him suddenly upright, slamming him against the wall and kissing him hard until his knees buckled.
"Better?" he asked.
"Much, thank you. All mental pictures erased."
Christian grabbed him by the wrist and led him into the kitchen.
"And will that last you?"
Syed stuck his lower lip out petulantly.
"Oh I suppose it'll have to, we can't have a repeat of last time."
Christian bent down to get some potato's from the vegetable drawer and giggled.
"When the sauce burnt, the floor was covered in food and we had a mad dash to find our pants when the door buzzer went?"
Syed looked up from filling a saucepan with water.
"Ha ha! It cost us a fortune taking them all to Fargo's. Do you think anyone bought the lie about the cooker exploding?"
"No. But who cares. What are we making Sy?"
"I thought the theme could be Asian and East End fusion, a delicate melding of flavours."
Christian grimaced.
"Curried Eels?"
"Samosa's and Mash."
Christian laughed.
"We could be onto something."
"Or we could try and remember how to make something Masala Queenie. Pass us the Okra."
They danced about the kitchen to music from the radio, chopping, dicing and stirring, working happily, shoulder to shoulder.
"Sy!" Chided Christian. "What's all that stuff on the work top?, You were never this messy at the unit."
Syed lobbed a well aimed tomato at his head but Christian ducked just in time, pursing his lips as it hit the wall and slid slowly down.
"Oops. Our kitchen is too small, I'm a creative cook, I need space. I'm used to something bigger."
Christian smirked and put the lid on the saucepan, turning down the heat.
"Oh yes you are."
Syed ducked under him to open the oven door.
"Just don't. Why is it whenever we have the radio on they're always playing Kylie?"
As he stood up, Christian put his arms around his waist and waltzed him into the living room.
"They think we like it, Syed. Why weren't we wearing hats to cook in? We should have had unattractive hats on."
"I could never see yours, in fact most days I couldn't even see your clothes."
Christian looked around for his mobile phone.
"Even with that thing on your head you were the hottest man I'd ever clapped eyes on. I'll just give Ian a ring, tell him I'm coming for the table. Get in the shower, I'd better not join you or we'll burn the dinner again. Ian, hi!"
Syed watched Christian's broad back fondly as he walked away. Contented and happy, he took a big sniff of the delicious aroma of food coming from the kitchen and opened the bathroom door.
Christian returned twenty minutes later, barging in with difficulty, trestle table wedged insecurely under one arm. The two Minute Mart bags he was clutching clanked alarmingly, the bottles of wine they contained knocking perilously against each other.
"Give us a hand Sy!" he called.
Syed emerged from the shower, rubbing his wet hair with a towel.
"Oh god Sy, put something on, It's too distracting."
Syed obligingly pulled on some underwear and relieved Christian of the bags, looking inside with dismay.
"How much alcohol do we need?" he asked, incredulous.
Christian pulled the legs from under the table, pushing them into their slots and assembled it next to their own.
"Don't forget Roxy's coming. I got Red, White and Pink, from all corners of the globe. And some Lucozade for tomorrow."
Syed handed him a tablecloth.
"I thought your body was meant to be a temple?"
Christian whipped the cloth into the air with a flourish.
"Usually, but tonight it's going to be a Bingo Hall."
Syed raised an eyebrow.
"All balls and old people?"
"Cheeky. I'm off to get clean."
Christian twisted his fingers into Syed's damp hair as he passed, smiling into his eyes.
"Our food smells good and so do you. Shall we tell them not to come?"
Syed leaned up to kiss his chin.
"Again? It's too late now. I suppose I'd better lay the table, instead of you."
Syed could see Barry's glazed expression as he munched through his third Naan bread, Ian droning relentlessly in his ear about how much money he had made that year. At the other end of the dining table Christian was laughing so uproariously at something Steve had said he had almost fallen off his chair.
Noticing Syed's involuntary movement, a twitch to jump up and save him, Zahida patted his hand gently. He turned soft brown eyes to meet hers.
"You adore him don't you?"
His mouth curved sweetly.
"Does it show? He means the world to me. Even though a lot of the time he drives me mad, the way he just acts on impulse. He's so larger than life, his energy lifts me, makes me whole."
Jane, sitting to his left, felt her eyes fill with tears.
"Aww Syeeed, our mother always said his heart was as big as an ocean, and you have it, it's yours."
"And he has mine."
Christian had paused for a moment, his ears burning. He put down his wine glass, distracted from the chattering around him, ignoring Roxy's wild cackling.
Glancing down the table at Syed he stood up, shouting;
"Who needs more drink?"
Syed felt his phone buzz in his pocket, vibrating against his thigh.
He looked down at the screen and pushed back his chair, the legs squealing as they scraped on the laminate floor.
"I'm so sorry, I've just got to nip out."
Christian returned from the kitchen holding a corkscrew and looked about the room, calling down to Zahida.
"Has Sy gone?"
"He got a text message. It made him smile."
Syed waited in the shadows, watching an urban fox rooting through the bins beneath the metal fire escape. It had found a chicken carcase and dragged it out triumphantly, trotting away and off beyond the telephone box.
A breeze whipped hair across his forehead and he calmly registered the sound of approaching footsteps, saw the street lights gleam on the green glass bottle held in the man's hand.
A low voice came out of the darkness.
"And what are you doing out here Syed?"
"You know what I'm doing."
Beside them, a sudden gust of wind blew open the door to the alley, banging it back against the wall.
And Christian took Syed's hand.