Chapter 2

"Well, you've really got me now," he laughs harshly, letting go of Paul and absently pushing him away. "Those self-fulfilling prophesies really do work."

Syed just stares at him, unable to speak.

"Didn't expect you back today, babe," he adds casually, "thought you'd send Tam for your stuff, maybe tomorrow."

"Christian," Syed manages to say shakily, his eyes bright with unshed tears.

"I should, maybe ...," Paul mumbles, not knowing what to do with himself.

"Get out," snaps Christian, without taking his eyes of Syed.

"I won't expect your call, then," he replies sarcastically.

The sound of the door banging behind him snaps Syed out of his trance. "I've got to go," he says in a choked voice, quickly turning and launching himself at the door.

"Oh no you don't," Christian shouts, reaching for him. He wraps his arms around Syed's upper body and drags him back against him and back into the room. "You're not going anywhere," he coldly informs him.

"Let me go," cries Syed, struggling against his iron grip. "I don't want you anywhere near me," he sobs. But Christian won't let go, and eventually he is too exhausted to struggle anymore and slumps in his arms. Christian then turns him around to face him, and pulls him tight against him in a crushing hug, burying his face in Syed's neck; he holds onto him for ages, unable to let go; afraid to let go.

Syed cannot fight against him, against both of them; his arms desperately want to reach up and wrap themselves around Christian's neck, even now; and he knows that if they weren't trapped against his body by Christian's arms, that he wouldn't be able to stop them; in the same way that he can't help letting his head drop onto his shoulder, his tears slowly falling.

Eventually, Christian lets him go. "Sit," he orders gruffly, directing him to the sofa, before going to make a couple of strong coffees.

Without looking up, Syed accepts the coffee; taking a sip, he winces at the sweet taste.

"For shock," Christian explains shortly.

They sit quietly for a few minutes.

"What are you doing back here?" Christian finally asks, breaking the silence.

"I live here," Syed reminds him bleakly.

"Did you come to tell me you were moving back home?" Christian asks.

"Why did you bring him here?" Syed asks huskily, looking intently into his coffee cup. "If you wanted to finish with me, all you had to do is tell me?" he adds, his voice filled with pain.

"You've been accusing me of hooking up with guys every time I go out recently, you must be so thrilled to finally be proved right," Christian replies bitterly. "Now you can run back home to mum and dad with a clear conscience."

"Why are you angry with me?" Syed asks, raising his eyes to Christian, "I've done nothing wrong."

"You must have a very short memory, if you don't remember screaming the house down this morning."

"Don't exaggerate," Syed snaps, reacting to his sharp tone; "and anyway, I had good reason; you can't tell me that if you saw me getting out of a taxi with a guy, after staying out all night, that you wouldn't be angry?"

"You didn't happen to notice Roxy getting out of the cab, then?" Christian asks.

"It was you he couldn't stop looking at, smiling at," he replies bitterly. "It didn't even bother you that I might see you with him; I'd never hurt you like that."

"It must be wonderful being so perfect, so right all the time. It must have killed you to have to lower yourself to live with a sinner like me; no wonder you fought against it for so long."

"You're blaming me for what just happened?" Syed asks incredulously.

"You ran crying to mummy, to tell her we were having problems," Christian accuses. "She must have been giddy with happiness."

"What? No, I didn't," he replies confused. "In the Square, you saw us in the Square," he realises.

"It was very touching, you crying on her shoulder," Christian replies sarcastically.

"You've got it wrong," he tries to explain.

"Yea," sneers Christian, "of course I have, because you would never betray me and go running back to your family. I'll bet the only reason you've stayed with me this long is because they couldn't change your mind for you because they weren't talking to you."

"You know, actually, I can't talk to you right now," Syed says agitatedly, jumping up of the couch; "you won't listen to me, you're deliberately twisting everything to suit you." He turns and walks quickly towards the door, but Christian gets there before him, and blocks his path.

"Let me pass," he demands, attempting to push past him, but Christian won't budge.

"Those first few weeks after we first met, when we got to know each other, became friends, what impression did you get of me?" Christian asks out of the blue.

Ignoring his question, Syed returns to sit in stony silence on the edge of the couch.

"I've never hid my personality from anyone, and I didn't hide it from you; you knew exactly what I was like, so why did you kiss me that day at the Unit?

Syed continues to ignore him.

"You knew the risk you were taking; making a move on someone you knew, who knew your family, who worked with you and your family. Sy, answer me," he orders, losing patients; he comes around the couch and pulls him to his feet, forcing his face up so that Syed has no choice but to look him in the eye; his hands burying themselves in his hair, holding him captive.

"What do you want me to say?" Syed snaps irritably, hating the way his heart beats a little faster at the sudden close proximity; the way his body always overrides his brain when it comes to this man.

"I want you to tell me why you picked me, why you risked everything for me."

"I don't know why," he replies, trying to sidestep the question, and to loosen Christian's hold so that he can put some distance between them.

"Yes, you do," Christian corrects him, "and I'm not letting you go until you tell me."

"Okay, I knew the risk," Syed finally, reluctantly admits. "I told myself over and over again that I wouldn't go there, that I couldn't go there. But that day, I hurt you when I said it was against God's will, and I felt so terrible. I couldn't bear the idea of you being angry with me; and maybe deciding you could no longer be my friend. Making things right between us seemed like the most important thing in the world. I don't know if I forgot the danger, but I ignored it just for a moment; and then you were standing so close to me, looking into my eyes, and it was too late; I couldn't help myself."

"And why do you think the attraction was so powerful? Do you think that if I was the sort of guy who sat over in the Vic every night of my life necking beers; the sort of guy who'd only ever sh*gged two or three guys; do you think you would have felt so drawn to me?"

"It wasn't just about that," Syed strongly denies. "I'd never met anyone like you before; you were so open and honest; you were proud of who you were; you did whatever you wanted to, without caring what anyone thought; you were afraid of no one. Within a few weeks, a few days even, of knowing you, I felt more comfortable around you than anyone I'd ever met; you were so friendly, so full of fun; and even though I'd only known you for a short while, I felt I could trust you, and it had been so long since I'd trusted anyone …," he trails off, thinking that maybe he's said too much. "You still are all those things; although that's not based on today, obviously," he can't help adding.

"The only thing that has changed is that you've stopped trusting me," Christian says quietly.

"Well, after what's just happened, do you blame me?" Syed shouts angrily, suddenly having had enough of this conversation. He feels like crying in frustration at Christian's attitude. He desperately wants him to care about his feelings, to feel some kind of remorse for what he has done, instead of just attacking him like this. "Get away from me," he cries in a fit of temper, his hands balling into fists and pushing ineffectually at Christian's chest. The way Christian is holding his face in his hands, using his strength against him, is making Syed feel so helpless; he can't think straight. They both know it's unfairly tilting the balance of power in Christian's favour; and it's working, because now Syed just wants it all to stop, he wants to close his eyes and give up. Usually, when he is upset, it's Christian who comforts him, and all he wants to do right now is let himself be comforted.

"The important thing to remember is that a large part of the reason why you fell for me was because I was the opposite of you," Christian says calmly, ignoring his request. And, sensing his struggle, he forces Syed a little closer. "You fell for me because I was living the life you didn't dare even contemplate living. There was a sense of excitement; a sense that anything could and often did happen when I was around?"

"Maybe you're not all that," Syed tries to sneer, but doesn't quite pull it off.

"But I so am, and you know it," Christian murmurs suggestively.

Syed can't help the blush which rises in his cheeks, or the way his breath quickens when Christian, slipping his arm around his waist, pulls him up against him.

"No, Christian," he hoarsely protests, trying to fight against the weakness invading his body. "I don't want this, I can't ..., you and me ..."

"The point I'm trying to make," Christian says, as if he hadn't spoken; but he is having trouble remembering what the point actually is, because he is now totally distracted by Syed's warm, quivering body pressed up against him; and the way he is looking up at him, his eyes pleading, tortured – Christian knows that look from the past, and for a moment is overcome with sadness at having been responsible for bringing it back.

"The point I'm trying to make," he repeats huskily, "is that you shouldn't have started this, knowing what you knew about me, if you couldn't handle it."

"I wasn't planning on starting anything, it just happened; and you know I tried to stop it going any further," Syed begs for understanding.

"But not before you got what you wanted," Christian reminds him, his mouth just inches away.

"No, Christian, let me go," Syed pleads, desperately trying to pull back, to focus on the feelings of pain and betrayal of only a few moments ago; but his body doesn't understand, doesn't care about any of that; his body thinks it's exactly where it's supposed to be; and Christian is looking deep into his eyes; bending him slowly back over his arm, taking the last bit of control from him; his eyes darkening; and Syed can feel himself slipping hopelessly.

"I don't regret starting it," he hears himself say in a voice he barely recognises.

"No, me neither," Christian agrees thickly. His hands, one tangled in Syed's hair and the other holding his body against him, prevent him from struggling, as he crushes his lips beneath his own; and everything else is forgotten for a little while.

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"You know, I used to go clubbing every weekend when I was in my 20s, but I'm not nearly as into it now," Christian admits some time later, offering an olive branch.

There is a chance for a kind of peace, but then …

"I've tried to understand, you know," Syed says rashly.

"What exactly have you tried to understand?" asks Christian, pulling back slightly, a note of warning in his voice.

"The drinking, going clubbing ..." he starts to say.

"Well isn't that big of you," Christian says sarcastically, letting him go so quickly that Syed has to grab onto his arm for a moment to keep his balance. "I can just see you, bravely defending me to Tamwar, who has probably never even kissed a girl, even though he's almost 20; both of you sitting here with your orange juice, judging me and finding me wanting."

"It wasn't like that," Syed tries to defend himself, even though the thought persists that he isn't the one on trial here.

"You know, I can't wait for Kamil to be old enough so that he can look at me disapprovingly, then I'll have the whole set," Christian adds bitingly.

"Leave Tam and Kamil out of this," Syed warns him.

"Sorry," Christian says quietly. He goes to sit wearily down on the couch, running his hands through his hair.

Despite himself, Syed feels sympathy for him; he has a sudden, desperate need to go to him and put his arms around him to comfort him and tell him everything's going to be okay, even though he knows it won't be. Forcing himself to go and sit on the other end of the couch, he presses his hand against his forehead for a moment, massaging the skin, trying to ease the pressure.

"You're the first person in so long who has made me feel ashamed of the way I live my life," Christian says unhappily, without looking up.

"I don't want you to feel ashamed," Syed says gently, "I know you don't mean to hurt me; that you can't help it. I read an article about Ge**ge Michael a few months ago ..."

"You think I'm like him?" Christian asks, incredulously.

"First of all, there's nothing wrong with Ge**ge Michael," Syed protests, trying to back-track, realising he's said the wrong thing, "his music …"

"Don't play dumb, we both know what you meant," Christian says sharply. "You read an article about a gay man playing away and immediately thought of me. After how long we've known each other and all we've been through, you think so little of me; you assume I've so little self-control that I can't go on a night out without wanting to sh*g everything that moves. Basically, you're just as narrow-minded as everyone else around here," he concludes, his voice full of bitterness.

"What I'm trying to say is that I understand that some guys need more excitement, but the thought of you with other guys, I just can't ...," Syed tries to explain. He wishes Christian would just try to understand how hurt he is feeling right now; he closes his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, trying to keep calm.

"Name me one time when I've given you the slightest reason to believe I've cheated on you?" Christian demands.

"Well, today …" Syed mumbles.

"APART from today," Christian growls.

"I've seen you flirting with guys when you're working in the Vic and in R&R," Syed almost whispers.

"No, Syed, you've seen THEM flirting with me," Christian almost spits the words out. "And I've always given them the brush-off."

Syed doesn't say anything.

"You know, if you're so convinced I've been cheating on you, why have you stayed with me this long?" Christian asks the question Syed has been avoiding asking himself.

"Sy?" Christian presses, when he doesn't respond.

Syed gets up.

"You're not leaving," he warns.

"I've got a headache, I need to take something," Syed mumbles, walking past him and into the bathroom.

"When he returns a few minutes later, he looks pale and on the verge of tears.

"Lie down for a bit," Christian suggests gently, and Syed doesn't argue. He gets undressed and crawls into bed, falling asleep almost immediately.

Whilst he's asleep, Christian has a shower, and makes himself something to eat. He receives a text from Roxy telling him that Paul is over in the Vic, and wondering if it's worth his while hanging around or if he should head home. Christian replies with a very short and to-the-point message: "Go home".

Not for the first time over the past few months, he questions Roxy's judgment. He has always wished that she and Syed would get on, and tended to blame Syed for being too hard on her. But he has to admit that she's said and done some things recently which have made him very uneasy; which have made him think that she wouldn't mind too much if Syed were out of the picture, for the simple, selfish reason that their relationship means that he is no longer at her beck and call. He's actually begun to question whether he should remain friends with her; which he hadn't ever wanted to do, because he hates being the type of guy who would drop a friend as soon as he gets a boyfriend. But he has now reached the stage where he can't relax when Roxy and Syed are in the same room, because he's worried about what she might say to him or what she might do; and he can feel himself starting to turn against her because of the way she's treating Syed. Her behaviour shouldn't surprise him; he's always known that whilst she's fun to hang out with, Roxy rarely rises above being self-obsessed; this side of her character hadn't really bothered him until it started to affect Syed.

He understands that Syed and Roxy are coming from two very different places: Roxy thinks he doesn't go out often enough; doesn't party hard enough. And even though he's told her repeatedly that he's no longer interested, she still tries to fix him up with guys when they go out; challenging him to prove he's still got it, promising that anything that happens will stay between them. Syed, on the other hand, thinks he goes out too much, parties too hard and cheats on him every chance he gets.

Roxy still either doesn't get, or doesn't want to get, how important Syed is to him, and now Syed has lost all faith in him, Christian realises sadly.

Sighing, he walks over to the bed and sits down. He loves to watch Syed sleep; he always looks so peaceful, so beautiful; and right now he's puppy-dog level cuteness, lying on his tummy, hugging his pillow, his hair every which way.

Christian gently strokes his hair away from his eyes, and watches him until he feels calm again. "I'm not interested in any other guy," he whispers huskily, "I never could be. Today, I was so gutted when I saw you with your mum, because I knew what it meant; I knew you were going to leave me and go back to them.

That guy, he was all wrong; his hair was too short, he was too tall, too broad, his voice was all wrong. Even if you hadn't walked in when you did, I wouldn't have been able to go through with it; from the moment I started to kiss him, it felt wrong; I had my face buried in his neck for so long, he must have been about to fall asleep with boredom; it would be funny if it wasn't so tragic."

Syed stirs slightly, but doesn't wake.

"I'm so sorry, babe," Christian whispers brokenly, tears of despair running down his cheeks.