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A/N: I've never written Eastenders fanfic, but we'll see what happens.

Disclaimer: Not mine. Gosh, I wouldn't want to steal anything from the BBC. It's not like they'd ever take anything from us is it?

Christian was so happy. So very happy. He could feel Syed shifting in his hold, beginning to wake up, slowly. Equally gradually, sunshine was creeping through the window. Last night… it had gotten heated and he hadn't bothered closing the curtains. They hadn't taken that all important step just yet. But there was plenty that they could do without that. Soon enough, Syed stretched in Christian's hold, and rolled onto his back. Heavily lashed, big clear brown eyes blinked up at Christian, brushing away sleep in the same movement.

"It's morning," Syed muttered, blearily.

"You slept the night," Christian replied, in a murmur, unable to contain a small smile. It was so good to sleep next to someone, to have a warm body in his arms, moving ever so softly but continually throughout the night. Syed twitched as he dreamed, and once or twice Christian had heard him mutter too. One time was something about a panda. The second time it had been Christian's name. That could get him into trouble some day.

The peaceful moment which Christian had been enjoying was interrupted by an exclamation from Syed. He shot upright, breaking out of Christian's loose hold. In a moment, he was out of the bed, dragging a sheet with him – as if Christian hadn't licked and kissed and bit every inch of his skin the night before and there was therefore something more to hide. "I'm dead, I'm dead. Mum'll kill me. Why did you let me sleep?"

"I… don't think it was a choice," Christian said, sitting up himself. The sheets pooled around his waist and he twisted his fingers into them. He hated mornings after at the beginning of relationships. Andrew… Andrew had known that and had used to bring Christian breakfast in bed to sweeten his mood in the mornings; orange juice, no bits, and toast with Jam. Christian had been teased for his childish tastes, and Andrew had made comments about how easily pleased he was, but if that was true, why the heck was he bothering with Syed? He could pull any number of guys if he wanted to, but he wanted Syed. He was such a fool sometimes.

"What am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to say? Where's my shirt?" Syed rambled as he searched through the mess of clothing on the bedroom floor. "And why are your curtains open? Anyone could see!"

Christian rolled his eyes back to remember the questions, "Lie, as the truth is plainly too much for you, let alone your family. See above. On the floor, in the lounge." He paused to grin at that point, and continued with, "And my curtains are open because I was a little too busy to close them last night."

"If my mother… If she…" Syed stammered, pulling on a sock backwards.

"If she was really worried about you, she would have rung," Christian pointed out. He glanced at his clock; he didn't know about Syed, but he could spend another hour in bed. "Besides, you reek of sex. Take a shower with me first, then you can go."

"I'll take a shower at my own house, thanks," Syed snapped back.

Christian forced himself to close his mouth on his initial response, knowing it would do him no good, and instead shrugged his shoulders casually. "You don't know what you're missing." He dropped back on his pillows and turned on his side, away from Syed. He could show himself out. Silently, Christian listened to the footsteps going out of the flat, and buried down deeper. He wondered why he bothered sometimes. And then he remembered nights like last night, and he remembered.

000

"Where have you been?" demanded Zainab, reminding Syed strongly of a woman in a Harry Potter film he'd watched on ITV whilst bored one night. "I've been ringing, but Tamwar found your phone in your room. He was going to ring the police! Your father and I have been worried sick!" Behind her, Syed's father rolled his eyes.

"I stayed at Christian's. I'm sorry I didn't call," Syed muttered, self-consciously running his hands over his hair, hoping it wasn't too mussed. He'd decided to lie as little as possible; he couldn't say that someone hadn't seen him leaving Christian's flat.

Zainab's eyebrows shot up to the ceiling in an instant, "And what were you doing there?"

Casually, Syed wandered over to the kitchen counter to take an apple. "He reported his attack to the police, after I convinced him to do it. Then he got paranoid. You know what people like him can get like. So I stayed over."

"What did you do?" Zainab demanded sharply.

"Watched a film… ate pizza… I fell asleep on the sofa," Syed turned to wash the apple under the sink, so that his mother couldn't see his blush at the thoughts of what they'd actually done on the sofa. "Just rattled around the flat."

The relief on his mother's face was so obvious that it hurt Syed's chest, constricted his throat. "Well that's… alright then. But you should have called."

"Sorry," Syed said, looking as apologetic as he could. "Now do you mind if I go take a shower before I go to work? I didn't want to take one over there."

"Of course." Zainab moved forwards and patted her son's cheek. Her bangles jangled at the movement. As Syed trotted out of the room, he heard her mutter to her husband of, "Sleeping over there, honestly…" Inside, Syed wanted to go turn around and argue with her, but that would be hypocritical. He'd had to have been just as homophobic to hide his sexuality. He hated that. Why was he born the way he was, raised to hate himself… It wasn't fair.

000

Christian sighed as he pulled himself out of bed. He hadn't been able to get back to sleep – he hadn't expected to – but it was good to just curl and rest. He had no furious mother knocking on his door, and no upset boyfriend, so clearly Zainab had swallowed her son's lies. He was both glad and annoyed that there had been no upset. Syed made him feel so confused, and was on his mind so much of the time. Why couldn't things be simple as it had been before?

Reluctantly, he trailed over to his bathroom to get cleaned up. He made the mistake of glancing in his mirror, and groaned. His bruises were turning green at the edges and looked even more repulsive than the day before. How could Syed have stood kissing his face when it looked like that? When his whole body looked like that. But Syed had. The curious burning mixture of pain and pleasure at the pressure on such tender areas was something… memorable. There was another bruise on his neck, but that hadn't been from the attack. He shook his head at himself; what would Zainab think if she knew of the techniques that Syed knew. The younger man wasn't as innocent as she thought he was. And Christian enjoyed that ever so much. It was quite impressive.

He pushed himself up off his sink and flicked on his shower. Work was going to be awkward. Again.

000

Syed thanked the delivery man and closed the door. AS he moved towards the fridge to put away the delivery, his phone buzzed in his pocket. Shifting two peppers into one hand, he fished out his phone from his pocket. A moment later, the peppers found themselves on the floor.

000

Rubbing his hair roughly with a towel, Christian wished his phone would shut up. His face hurt and made his head hurt too, from the bruises and the confusion swarming around his mind. He wondered if he should talk to Roxy. She usually knew what to do. Although sometimes everyone else began to know after Roxy knew. So maybe he should just keep it to himself. But no, he did trust Roxy. He trusted her with a lot more than any other. Trailing wet footprints across his floors, deep in thought, he reached out to pick up his phone and press the button. His first reaction as he read the text was to smirk; perhaps there was no point in keeping it to himself anyway.

After no more than one minute, his phone ran again. A call this time, not a text.

"Christian," came a barely audible voice through the phone.

"Syed?" Christian raised his eyebrows. "Where are you? You sound like you're in… Chelmsford."

"I have to keep my voice down. Mum's right outside," came the response.

"Where are you?"

"In the cupboard."

Christian's answer was immediate and dripping with thick sarcasm. "It's the closet, darling, and we all knew that."

"No, I mean, I'm actually in the cupboard; mum thinks I'm getting her tomatoes. But listen, I got a text." Syed's voice was soft but hysterical. "Someone knows about us! What are you going to do?"

Wandering easily into his lounge, Christian threw himself back into a chair. "What can I do, Syed? I got the same text. It was anonymous."

Syed made a curious, high pitched, impatient noise. "They'll tell my mother. I'll be disowned, disinherited, disgraced. Think of Amira."

The pain in Syed's voice made Christian drop his jovial mood. Though Syed couldn't see it, he leant forwards and propped his elbows up on his knees, becoming serious. "Calm down," he murmured. "I know how important your family is to you. It was just a text. Not a threat."

There was a pause, until Syed whispered, "Mum's calling. I've got to go." He hung up and the phone just beeped at Christian. The thought debating what it was that made him try so hard for the young man remained furiously at the top of his mind as Christian got dressed.

000

Christian had been looking over his shoulder at every moment, checking with paranoia raging inside of him at every step. But he had a feeling that Syed needed him. He stepped into the kitchen, and the first thing he saw was the pallor of Syed's face. He was then distracted by Zainab rapping him on the chest with a wooden spoon. "Hey! Ow!" exclaimed Christian.

"Don't be such a wuss!" Zainab snapped out. "You're lucky it's clean. Though I'm not; now I have to clean it again. But I know what you're like about your clothes."

"Should I be thanking you?" Christian asked. "Cos that really hurt."

"Mum, seriously, he's covered in bruises from head to toe. That wasn't nice," Syed spoke up from where he was chopping rhythmically.

"Oh, sorry Christian," Zainab said, looking actually apologetic as she patted him on the shoulder. Christian winced. Suddenly, Zainab turned, snake like, and demanded from her son, "How would you know that he's covered from head to toe in anything?"

"I just saw," Syed said.

"Anyway – why the hitting?" Christian asked. "Technically, that's harassment."

"It was for capturing my son and keeping him tied up with you all night. He didn't even phone!" Zainab turned her snapping back to Christian.

Syed put the knife he was holding down with unnecessary noise, knowing full well that Christian was being tempted by all sorts of lascivious comments to do with who was tying whom, and interrupted. "Christian, I've got those papers I said I would in the office."

"We should do those then," Christian agreed, sedately, nodding. The second thing he'd noticed was the fact that the blinds were drawn in the office.

Zainab threw up her hands, "Fine, leave me out here with all this rubbish."

"It won't take five minutes," Syed promised, looking over his shoulder at his mother. The moment the door was closed, Christian pulled Syed into a close hug. Though it was dark, it didn't mean that he couldn't feel the younger man shake, however Syed struggled after a second, protesting, "Mum's just outside."

"So shut up," Christian growled quietly. It was a long moment before Syed gave in and let himself be held.

"What are we going to do?" Syed whispered.

"There's nothing we can do," Christian replied, "Just wait and see what happens." He didn't know how he managed to find himself encouraging Syed to keep their relationship secret when it wasn't fair on anybody, but it seemed to keep Syed most happy, and if Christian knew one thing, it was that that was important. "Chances are, it's just a stupid joke, anyway. Nothing to worry about."

A/N: I had to leave this here, having seen the latest episode of Eastenders and finding that the canon's better than something I could do.