Well, here it is, my *ahem* hot jealous Christian fic, inspired by Gay Bar episode. There's not much smut in this chapter, but be patient and you may be rewarded!

I deliberated over using the term Masseuse, as I believe that's what Syed calls himself? But decided to go with Masseur simply because I thought it sounded hotter! /shallow

Big thanks to Clarkey for beta-ing duties! x

I follow my client out of the gym and we walk together down Turpin Road, it's early evening and I'm glad to be on my way home, Craig is heading to the tube station to take the short journey back to his place.

"Y'know, I think I'm working you too hard, I'm going to have to tone down your fitness plan, you're going to be putting me to shame soon." I say good-naturedly, glancing sideways at Craig as we saunter along.

"The harder the better baby! It takes effort to have a body this perfect!" Craig boasts, and flexes a bicep at me.

Craig had a good body, I'd give him that, he was muscular, and had obviously been working out for a long time before I'd become his personal trainer a few weeks ago. He had an attractive face too, in a bland, stereotypical kind of way. He was also gay and the Christian of 20 years ago would have jumped him, gobbled him up and spat him out in the blink of an eye.

But that was then. Now he rather annoyed me. He was a charmer yes, fun, easy to chat to, had all the right lines and all the right moves. But it was all false flattery, underneath I felt he was only interested in his own needs and what other people could do for him. I quash a brief uncomfortable thought that I was actually looking at a version of my younger self.

"Hey you!"

A voice as familiar to me as my own breaks my reverie, I look up and I'm rewarded with dark, twinkling eyes and a beaming flash of white teeth against tanned skin, heading in our direction.

"Is that him?" Craig nudges my arm, and then speaks quietly in my ear, "Why didn't you tell me he was so hot?"

I prickle and shoot him a 'look'. Part of me feels a surge of pleasure and pride that someone has recognised the undeniable hotness of my fiancé, but another part is slightly unnerved, and it is that part that seems to win over.

Syed walks over to us, he is wearing his white masseur jacket, having just finished work himself.

"Hey Babe." I greet him and plant a quick kiss on his cheek.

"Aren't you going to introduce me?" Craig interrupts.

"Craig, this is Syed, my fiance I told you about." I say, a little reservedly.

"Nice to meet you Syed." Craig steps towards Syed and extends a hand, which Syed takes and gives him a friendly smile in return.

I find my gaze drawn to their joined hands, the hold seems to go on a little longer than I deem necessary. I look up at the sound of Craig's loud voice, I am finding him more and more annoying by the minute.

"You're a massage therapist, right?" Craig flashes another smile at Syed and indicates to his jacket with his eyes. I feel a tightness in my chest as I watch Craig's gaze hover over Syed's torso. Syed seems oblivious. Or is it me? Am I reading too much into it? Seeing things that aren't there?

"Yeah, I am." Syed replies, a half smile lingering on his lips, "Didn't Christian tell you?" he gives me a quick puzzled look.

Syed and I usually plugged each other's line of business as they were so complimentary, and it was a way of helping to build up each other's clientele. Yet, somehow this time, I had conveniently forgotten to pass on Syed's card. Well, I'd only be training Craig a few weeks, there hadn't been a lot of time, I was sure I would have remembered at some point… eventually.

I move towards Syed and put a possessive arm around his shoulders. "He's the best in the business." I say. "His technique is amazing… I should know." I add, winking sideways at Syed, then I look straight at Craig sternly. I don't really know what I'm hoping to achieve, I feel like I am staking my claim on Syed, trying to subtly warn Craig off. Stupid. I'm being stupid. As if Syed would ever want anyone else, I know he wants me, I know he loves me, beyond what I'd imagined a human being was even capable of. I knew because the feeling was mutual.

Syed rolls his eyes in my direction at the blatant innuendo.

"A personal recommendation, great!" Craig looks at me, his smug grin stretching from ear to ear, then he turns back to Syed. "I've been thinking about seeing a masseur for a while now, all the extra work outs I do, it sometimes leaves me a bit sore, a bit stiff, y'know? I think I need expert hands on me."

What the fuck? Craig had glanced back to me as he said it, his face still all smiles, trying to maintain an air of innocent casualness, but I could see the look in his eyes, the goading. Couldn't I? Or was I imagining it? I glower back at him.

Syed shrugs away from my arm and reaches inside his jacket, pulling out a business card, either he hadn't seen any hidden meaning or he chose to ignore it. He hands the card to Craig and smiles genuinely. "Well, if you're ever in need, give me a call and make an appointment. I'm based at Booty's… just over there." He turns and points towards the salon, he seemed happy and a little bit proud of himself, at the possibility of adding to his growing number of clients. I feel a stab of guilt for not feeling it with him, for probably being a total arse, and an unjustified one at that. But I can't seem to shift the dark cloud that had descended over me.

Craig locks eyes with Syed. A simple acknowledgement, or something more? "I might just do that Sy." he says.

I balk again, this time at Craig's use of my name for Syed. I had used it in conversation with Craig though, I know, I was probably reading too much into it, but I still didn't like it, not one measly bit.

"Right, I better dash and get that tube!" Craig says brightly "See you next week Christian!" Craig glances in my direction when I don't respond, and I reluctantly grunt an inaudible reply.

I don't see it, but I can almost feel Syed's look of chastisement for my rudeness, in so called civilised company. In other circumstances, a kick to the shins might have accompanied it, I think wryly.

"It was nice to meet you Craig." I hear Syed say.

I look up just in time to see Craig place a hand on Syed's upper arm, "The pleasure was all mine." Craig purrs. My eyes narrow, suddenly all I can see is Craig's fingers stroking down Syed's arm. It is probably an infinitesimal amount of time, but to me, any amount of time would have been too long. I feel my body tense, but before I can react Craig removes his hand and waves, before turning and walking off towards the tube.

"He seems nice." Syed says as he turns to face me.

I stare at him moodily, and purse my lips.

"Christian?"

"Fancy him do you?" I blurt out, a little more harshly than I'd intended.

But Syed doesn't seem phased, instead he laughs and rolls his eyes again. "No..." he says quietly, drawing the syllable out.

Then he steps towards me, into my personal space, giving an ever so seductive wiggle of his shoulders as he does so, so close I can feel the heat of his body ignite the air between us. He peers up at me through heavy lashes, his voice low and flirty "But I'll tell you what I do fancy…"

"Oh yeah?" I breathe, the tension of a moment ago melts away, and is replaced by tension of an altogether different nature.

He stretches up towards me, his lips inches from mine, "Mmmm.." he hums, and the sound vibrates against my lips as he presses his mouth lightly against mine in a teasing kiss.

It was the barest of touches, yet the level of heat and longing it sends cursing through me is immeasurable. My hands twitch at my sides, every inch of my body aches to touch him, to be touched by him. It might have been the thought that someone else had touched him, the need to prove to myself, to prove to him that I was what he needed, that might have had something to do with it, but ultimately it was him. It is always him. Syed. I have never craved something as emphatically as I crave him, every part of him, all of him, every day, every minute.

He starts to pull away, and it takes every strength in every nerve ending to stop myself grabbing him, crushing him against me and snogging his face off there and then. But some needs must wait, the act of delay, of dwelling on the thought and savouring the desire a torturous pleasure in itself. We were in a fairly busy public road after all, with several commercial buildings, familiar and unfamiliar faces coming and going. We didn't want to become the live street entertainment.

"So… what do you fancy Sy?" I implore, my voice thick with lust. He looks back at me, all wide eyes and soft lips, dark hair curling onto the smooth skin of his forehead, begging to be stroked back. I lean over and whisper salaciously in his ear "You can have anything you want…"

He angles his head to look at me, a mischievous glint in his darkening eyes. "Anything?" he grins. I nod, and suddenly he had grabs my hand and is dragging me towards our flat, and I can't stop my own smile from stretching across my eager face.

But he doesn't stop at the blue door. No, that would have been too easy. Instead he comes to rest at the one next door, the one that leads to Beale's Plaice, not Christian and Syed's place. The smile drops from my face and I look at him questioningly.

"Fish and chips!" he declares, obviously pleased with himself. "I fancy fish and chips… I'm staaarving!"

I shake my head and give a small sigh of exasperation, but his smile is infectious. How could I not be happy when he was happy? Besides, we had all the time in the world, now. "C'mon then you," I groan and start to lead the way into the chippy. Then I feel his fingers grasp around mine and I pause to look back at him.

"If you're really good," he says quietly, his eyes shining with a mixture of love and playful fervour "I'll let you have dessert too."

I laugh and our eyes lock in a moment of shared knowledge, shared memories, shared emotions. I feel it hit me again, like it always did, often at the most random times, the most unromantic of settings, again and again, even after all this time. How could he be so… perfect. Not perfect perfect, fuck no, that would be mind-numbingly boring. But, he was simply… Sy, and he was perfect to me. God, I loved him.

A few days later…

I look at my watch again. I can't seem to stop looking at it. Don't be pathetic Christian, I say to myself, and finish plumping and straightening the stripy cushions on the sofa. Syed would be home from work soon. I had finished early today, and spent the latter part of the afternoon doing mundane jobs of domesticity. To complete my image of the perfect house husband I decide to make a start on dinner, Syed would like that. Even if he'd had a shitty day at work it would put him in a good mood. I liked it when Syed was in a good mood, it kind of rubbed off on me, in more ways than one. I smirk to myself, letting licentious images of Syed occupy my bored mind, as I head to the kitchen.

I am rudely interrupted by the ringing of my phone in my pocket, but relax again when I see the name on the screen.

"Sy!" I say enthusiastically, "I was just thinking of you…" I could hear the monotonous drone of Poppy and Jodie in the background.

"Christian, I'm going to be late home, I've got an extra client, I tried to get him to make an appointment during normal hours, but he said it was urgent… and it's someone I've never done before, I didn't want to lose a potential regular."

I smile a little at Syed's unwitting turn of phrase, but can't hide the disappointment in my voice as I speak. "Oh babe, how late? I may have urgent needs of my own…" I sigh into the phone, "…and I'm cooking dinner!" I add.

"A couple of hours I'm afraid, Tanya's going to give me the keys so I can lock up. Anyway, it's that friend of yours that you recommended me too, you know, Craig, thanks for dinner, I'll heat it up when I get home."

The last part of his sentence barely registers, my mind had stopped at the word Craig.

"Christian?"

I frown and try to think of other words. "Right, ok, I'll see you when I see you then." I huff.

"I'm really sorry Christian, I'll make it up to you, I promise."

He was gone. I slip the phone back into my pocket and survey the kitchen. Suddenly I don't feel like cooking any more.