His dream about a troupe of performing kittens had definitely ended, so Christian couldn't understand where the noise of singing and hissing could possibly be coming from.
Sleepily he rolled over and buried his face in the pillow beside him, happily breathing in the familiar scent left behind by Syed's hair and skin.
He slowly worked out that the former sound was Syed, wanting to be made to feel like he was the only girl in the world, and by groggily opening one eye and tracing a plume of steam as it billowed up to the ceiling, that the latter was coming from the iron.
"Extreme.." He mumbled, then, rolling onto his back, "Ow!"
Syed immediately stopped ironing and hurried over to the bedside, his forehead furrowed with concern.
"I'm so sorry, I scratched you really badly. Do you want me to rub something on it?"
Christian chuckled dirtily.
"Again? Don't worry tiger, I'll cut your nails later."
He reached out his hand, smoothing away the worry line on Syed's forehead with his thumb.
"I'm sorry too, I behaved like a spoilt brat. This is your break, I'm happy to do whatever you want."
Syed leant down to kiss him.
"Hmm, we'll have to see how long that lasts. We had a good night though, didn't we?"
"The very best…"
Christian's stomach growled alarmingly.
"…I'm starving. We seem to have been so busy we forgot about dinner."
"When I've finished packing I'll nip out and get something from the café."
Christian swung his legs out of bed and loped over to the mirror, twisting round to examine the long red marks down his back.
"My, there's evidence of a good time had by all!" He laughed, adding;
"You carry on, I'll go. Do you want the usual?"
He pulled up his jeans and retrieved his hoody from under the sofa.
Syed carefully folded the shirt he had been ironing and placed it into a suitcase, squashing it down to make it fit, wryly realising he was pushing more creases in.
"Please. Make sure she gives you a crusty roll, not one of those damp soft ones. I swear Ian soaks stale bread to make it seem fresh."
"Probably gets people to suck it. That sounds dirty, I meant the bread.. Ugh, nasty mental picture.." Christian paused thoughtfully in the doorway, rattling the change in his pocket.
"Have we got Kagouls?" He asked randomly.
"Eh?"
"And big boots, we'll need them.."
Syed pointed at the overflowing cases.
"I've got them out, and I packed you four jumpers. If you need anymore I'll buy you an oily one when we get there. Or I would, if only I knew what you were on about. Are they a figment of your imagination?"
"Could be. I met a Swedish bloke at a bus stop once, he had a big knitted woolly cardigan and it felt as if it was covered in some sort of sheep wax. The memory's stayed with me for some reason. Can't for the life of me remember what he looked like…"
"I'm not sure I needed to know that.." Syed attempted, without success, to close the lid of the overflowing case.
"…don't get chatting to anyone, we need to leave in an hour."
They bumped the cases down the stairs and out onto the pavement. Syed got his stuck on the doorstep and Christian grabbed it, manfully hoisting it over the threshold with ease.
"Puny." He teased.
Syed responded by sticking out his tongue.
"Brainless beefcake."
He pulled up the retractable handle and took a step to leave, stopping suddenly at the sight of two familiar figures.
His brother and mother were crossing the road towards them, both resplendent in striped aprons and Masala Queen protective hats.
He spotted Tamwar's face scrunch suddenly in alarm at the sight of all their cases, and felt his legs twitch with an impulse to run across, reassure him that, despite the size and number, they were only going away for a little while. That he wasn't doing another flit, wasn't disappearing off the radar, that he would be back to support his brother through anything their parents decided to throw at him.
As he tried to convey all of this in one look, he saw Zainab's gimlet eyes rake across the luggage and tried to fathom what she might be feeling, if anything. If she, too, felt a stir of panic that she may never see him again, or just joyful relief.
But he discerned nothing in her cold glance, and she grabbed Tamwar's arm forcibly and steered him away.
Christian gently laid his hand on Syed's shoulder.
"Text him. Tell him we'll be back soon."
"Oh go on, show me!"
Christian stuck out his lower lip petulantly and grunted;
"No."
The queue ahead of them moved a little and they shuffled forward.
"Please.."
Christian sighed and handed over his passport.
"I'm not waiting while you sort through the cases for a clean pair of pants after you've pissed yourself laughing…"
Syed took one look at the photograph and began to shake with mirth.
Christian pouted at him.
"I really don't understand why you always find it so funny."
Syed gasped for breath and wiped a tear from his eye.
"Ha Ha! Neither do I, but I do. Probably because you look so much like you're posing to be Mr. Gay Universe.."
"Perhaps I could have been.."
Christian prised the passport from Syed's fingers and smiled at him indulgently, happy to see him so amused.
"Show us yours then, Mr. Bollywood romantic lead."
Christian looked lovingly at Syed's passport picture.
"Aw, you look so young, so dashing. I wish we had more photo's of you in your youth, especially that one of you in the cricket team…"
The grin swiftly vanished from Syed's face.
"I should imagine they all got burnt in a bin."
"But there'd be negatives, wouldn't there? Surely no one could be that harsh…"
"You'd think. But then I'm eradicated, obliterated.."
Syed stared stonily up at the departures board and Christian sensed that the subject needed to be changed, for now. Flamboyantly, he began to pull a long length of pink ribbon from his jacket pocket.
Syed couldn't quite stop the corner of his mouth twitching into a small smile. Rolling his eyes dramatically, he groaned:
"Please, no! Not the big gay bow!"