For Indiefran, CC and MyNameIsYou xxxxx
"There's no need."
Christian saw the disappointment flash in Syed's eyes, the half turn, the wallet tucked quickly away in his trouser pocket.
"No! no!"
Christian worried that his voice had sounded too loud, too anxious.
"I mean, you don't have to buy it. But we can get something to eat, go halves. Anyway you haven't checked inside, I might have spent all your money on sweets."
The corner of Syed's mouth twitched slightly.
'Yay' thought Christian. 'Nearly a smile.'
"You don't look like a man that eats a lot of sweets." Syed glanced at Christian's body, then looked away quickly, embarrassed.
'Ha! Checking me out, saw you.'
Christian realised he felt ridiculously cheerful, standing in the busy street with a man poised to bolt. He was going to have to be careful he didn't get carried away, so overexcited that he scared him off.
"You'd be surprised, I'm a devil for a flying saucer and don't get me started on humbugs. We could go to Kettners maybe? They do a great burger, and there's a man playing the piano…"
Christian shifted uncomfortably, suddenly worrying that Syed Masood might not be the type of man to be wooed by the offer of piano players and burgers.
Syed considered for a moment.
"I can't eat, I mean, some meat.."
"They have other stuff, vegetarian, if you like, or we could try Soho Thai, or wherever, I mean, we don't even have to go now, arrange another time, like a.. if you need to get back to.."
Christian stopped talking, realising his babbling might be interpreted as desperation and that he had been very close to saying 'your wife.'
Syed laughed kindly.
"Kettners will be lovely. I'm sure there'll be something I can eat, I'm not too hungry anyway…."
'I just want to touch you.'
The notion both scared and delighted him, he felt suddenly shy.
A stray strand of hair had fallen across his forehead and Christian fought down the need to stroke it away.
"We could share a bowl of chips." suggested Syed and they fell into step on the way to Greek Street.
Christian contemplated the prospect. Normally it was something that annoyed him, on nights out with Roxy, when she said she wasn't hungry, that she'd share his food, it usually ended up with him wanting to stab her in the hand with a fork as she scoffed the whole lot. But this man, this slight figure walking a little way behind him, dodging amongst the crowds, he could have all the chips he wanted, anything Christian owned, he would give him, if he could only spend the night with him.
The piano player was playing 'I Dreamed A Dream' in a jazzy upbeat style as the waiter greeted Christian with familiarity and pulled back their chairs.
Christian had a sneaking suspicion that he may have had him at some point and desperately sought around his brain to remember his name, failed and just said.
"Thank you." brightly.
Syed unwrapped his napkin, noticing the waiter's friendliness, and asked;
"Do you come here often?" immediately cursing himself for being cheesy.
"Only in the mating season."
Christian groaned internally.
'What the fuck did I say that for?' he chastised himself.
He tried to sneak a sly look at Syed's hand, initially comforted by the lack of a wedding ring, then depressed at the realisation he would have, in all probability, removed it if he was out on the pull.
"Do you want white or red Sy?"
Syed shook his head.
"Neither, I don't drink."
"Really?" Christian glanced up from his menu, incredulous.
"I don't think I know anyone who doesn't drink."
Syed looked down at the tablecloth and twirled a wine glass nervously.
"Oh."
"No, no, It's good. I shouldn't, my profession and everything.."
"What is it you do?"
Christian flexed his muscles proudly.
"I've got my own gym, in the East End. Clarkes. That's my surname by the way."
"Christian Clarke."
Syed relished saying his name again, placing the emphasis on the 't' in Christian, loving how it felt on his tongue, allowing himself to wonder how he might feel on his tongue.
"And you Sy? What do you do?"
Syed saw Christian's gaze dip to his mouth and felt his insides turn to mush.
"I run a property business. Masood Property Management. That's my surname, Masood, not property management, obviously. But you know that."
Christian grinned.
"I know that. Our choice of business names is inspired isn't it? Mind you, when I started out my company name was 'Absacadabra.' until I got fed up with my family taking the piss out of me."
Syed chuckled.
"I'm not surprised they did. I was 'Move with Masood.' for a short while.."
Christian began to laugh loudly, a deep friendly laugh that warmed Syed's heart.
"Move with Masood? You sound like an aerobics instructor. Mr. Masoodivator."
Syed joined in with the laughter, pausing only when he caught sight of the waiter, approaching them to take their order.
He gathered all the courage he could find and asked diffidently;
"Do you really want to eat, Christian?"
"Not really, not food."
The suggestion hung in the air between them.
"Can we go somewhere?"
Christian could hardly hear the whisper, could hardly suppress his joy.
"Yes. I'd like that."