Chapter 5
"Where did you go last night?" Christian demands, as soon as Syed walks out of the bedroom the following morning.
"A business meeting," he quickly replies, jacket on, eyes on the front door, ready to escape.
"At that time of night? Who with?" Christian reaches out to grab his arm and force a conversation.
"I haven't got time …"
"I said, 'Who with?"'
"Tanya, she wanted my advice about expanding the Salon."
"Why did you lie?"
"I don't know."
"Not good enough."
"I'm sorry," Syed says, his tone subdued.
"Come here." Christian gently pulls him into his arms. "You know I love you, don't you?"
"I love you, too," he admits, a note of sadness in his voice.
"Whatever it is, you can talk to me."
"I know," Syed says quietly.
"Tonight, we'll have a proper chat, okay?"
"Okay," he nods.
That evening
"We really should do this more often," Christian says, as he snuggles a little closer to Syed on the couch.
"Yea, I'd like that," he responds contentedly.
It has been a lovely evening. Each has been extra attentive, Syed due to guilt and Christian because he is aware that Syed has been unhappy lately, without really understanding why. The chat has been almost like old times, teasingly playful, affectionate; each totally focused on the other, without anyone hogging the limelight.
Syed has listened properly to Christian for the first time in ages. He has shown an interest in what Christian is up to and suggested they go out one evening the following week for dinner, just the two of them.
Christian has made a genuine effort to find out how Syed is doing generally and if he is generally happy with his lot.
Syed has told Christian what he knows Christian will be happy to hear ...
After dinner, they curl up on the sofa and watch Starsky and Hutch with Owen Wilson and Ben Stiller, an excellent film they have seen before and enjoyed. About half way through, Christian's hands start to wander and Syed turns in his arms. They kiss slowly at first, and then with an increasing passion. "Let's go to bed," Christian breathes.
"Good idea, I'm really tired, it's been a long day, I'll probably fall asleep the moment my head hits the pillow," Syed says with an exaggerated weariness. He gets up with a yawn and stretches his arms above his head in a provocative pose.
"It's a shame you're so tired," Christian sighs regretfully. He slowly reaches out a hand and strokes a couple of fingers across the exposed skin just above the belt buckle of his jeans. Syed shivers at the touch.
"Are you really so very tired?" he huskily tempts.
Syed smiles one of those smiles that has Christian up on his feet. He reaches for him, but Syed backs away, eyes challenging, defiant. Christian begins to walk towards him until Syed's back is against the wall. They stare into each other's eyes for a moment.
"Your move," he says huskily.
Syed slowly lets his head fall back against the wall and slightly to the side, his eyes drift closed and his mouth opens slightly; his tongue slips out and slides enticingly over his lips, and it's enough.
There is hardly time to get anywhere near the bed. They kiss hungrily, like strangers on a random hookup, hands tearing at each other's clothes. At one point, Syed looks into Christian's eyes, and he cannot see any trace of the man he married. Rather, this is his Christian, the man who needed him so badly, he could barely see straight, the man who was prepared to risk everything to be with him. "I love you," he moans, as Christian enters him.
If Christian could have formed a coherent thought at that moment, it would be to realise that it is the first time in a long time that Syed has said those words with genuine feeling.
"That was a blast from the past," he laughs, giving Syed a tender kiss and drawing him into his embrace.
"Yea," Syed grins. "It was almost worth missing the end of the film for."
"You cheeky pup," he cries in mock affront; his mouth searches for something sensitive to nip.
"No," Syed cries, trying to squirm away. "I didn't mean it, I promise," he giggles.
Christian gives up his search and settles contentedly back against the pillows.
Syed tucks himself up against him, and rests his head on Christian's chest. "It should always be like this," he sighs.
"You never told me why you lied to me last night," Christian remembers after a little while.
"I don't know," he responds awkwardly.
"Are you keeping something from me?"
"No, of course not."
"It wouldn't be the first time."
"I really don't need this," Syed snaps defensively; and before Christian can stop him, he is up off the bed and reaching for his clothes.
"Take it easy," he cries surprised. "I know you wouldn't keep anything from me, babe," he gently assures, without being completely confident he is right. He reaches out to him, but Syed backs away.
"I'm sorry, I've got to go," he abruptly decides. Pulling on his jeans and shirt, he is out the door before Christian can figure out what went wrong.
###
"Sy's been out of sorts for months, and it's slowly getting worse," he complains to Roxy the next day. "
"What's going on? Why is my son sleeping on our couch?" Zainab interrupts.
"Zainab, hi," he greets, turning to face her.
"Hi, yes, now what's going on?"
"I'm not quite sure. We were having a lovely evening, and out-of-the-blue, he got upset and decided he had to leave. Sometimes, I get the feeling that if he actually came out and said half the things he's thinking, I'd be shocked at how little I really understand him."
"Well, with the way you witter on, I wouldn't worry too much about his thoughts because he'll probably never get the chance to tell you them," Roxy sniggers.
"I don't talk too much, do I?" he whines.
"Of course not, I'm only teasing," she laughs, giving him a hug.
"I'll speak to Syed. I'll try to get him to tell me what's bothering him," Zainab decides, her tone unimpressed. She walks away without another word.
###
That evening
"Hi babe," Christian greets, when Syed walks in. "We've got a visitor.
"Hi Roxy," Syed says politely. He walks towards the bedroom, and closes the door behind him.
"Hi Syed," she sarcastically mimics, "thrilled to see you too?"
"Dinner will be ready in 15," Christian calls after him, "Rox's joining us."
Syed stays in the shower as long as he can, trying to delay the inevitable. He hasn't really spoken to Roxy in weeks, and isn't very confident of his ability to be polite to her for a whole evening.
It starts off well enough; they have a mini catch up, some of it amusing. But as the dinner progresses, the atmosphere begins to get a bit tense. At one point, Roxy makes a dig at Syed about being such a pain in the arse recently. He suggests that maybe it's none of her business how he behaves, and that maybe she should keep her nose out of his and Christian's relationship. Roxy begins to get drunk; Syed begins to withdraw, to check his phone ...
"Sometimes, I get the feeling you think you're better than us," she accuses after a fourth glass of wine.
"Of course I don't," he protests.
"You really do, doesn't he, Christian?" she insists.
"It can feel a bit like that sometimes," he reluctantly agrees. "You probably don't realise you're doing it," he tries to console.
"This is starting to feel like an ambush," Syed tetchily opines. "Did you invite her here tonight so you could both have a go?"
"No, of course not, but you have to admit you've haven't been yourself lately."
"Christian deserves better," Roxy pipes up, "You're lucky to have him, maybe you should be a little more grateful instead of whining all the time about what you want or don't want."
"Rox, don't," Christian warns, with a 'don't push him too far' look; which for Syed is the last straw.
"Excuse me," he says tensely, getting up from the table.
"Yea, go on, run away," she goads, "run back to mummy. She'll tell you what you want to hear, massage your ego, give you ideas above your station."
"That didn't really go according to plan," Christian wearily accepts, as the front door bangs behind Syed.
"God, he's so uptight," Roxy moans. "Why did you have to fall for him of all people?"
"I love him, I wish I didn't, but there you go."
"Whoever said love was blind definitely had something."
###
The next morning
"Morning sleeping beauty."
"Hmm," Syed murmurs, his eyes slowly opening. "Nazir, what, why are you here?" he cries.
"I might ask you the same question.
"Nazir," he barks.
"I bumped into your dad and Tamwar at Mosque, and they invited me back for lunch. What's your story? You didn't call out my name at the crucial moment, did you?"
"Like I've said more than once, my life is none of your business," Syed snaps.
"I wonder if my life is any of Christian's business," Nazir ponders. "I wonder if he would be interested to know what I've been up to recently,"
"You stay away from Christian," Syed warns, as he angrily pushes back the quilt, throws his legs onto the floor and stands up. Reaching quickly for his trousers, he makes the mistake of glancing in Nazir's direction, only to find himself being carefully studied. Nazir's, eyes gleam with a passionate regard as they zone in on Syed's crotch almost visible through the fitted pants.
"Do you mind?" His attempt at anger comes across as more of a breathless plea.
"Not at all," Nazir says huskily, reaching out to touch his naked chest.
"My parents are in the next room," Syed weakly reminds him. Yet, he can only watch helplessly as Nazir's hand slowly slides down. The touch sending a shiver of pleasure through him. If they get caught, the consequences ... it's unthinkable, and yet he lacks the strength to lift a hand to push him away.
Nazir abruptly bends down until he is kneeling in front of him. He slides his hands over Syed's hips and gently pulls him closer, pressing his mouth against his crotch, inhaling his scent. He sticks his tongue out to lick the now-bulging material.
Syed draws a harsh breath. He bites down on his fist to prevent a moan escaping.
"Syed, are you up? You'd better be up," his mother calls her warning from the kitchen.
Nazir draws back and back onto his feet. He pushes Syed back onto the couch and throws the quilt over him in one easy movement, just before Masood walks in.
"Don't let your mother see you still in that state," he strongly advises, assuming that Syed's flushed face and obviously muddled state are a sign that he has just woken up.
"Umm," Syed mumbles.
"Your son has just been telling me to mind my own business," Nazir says with a smirk in Syed's direction.
"Well, since Syed's business is often rather complicated, that's probably good advice," Masood recommends, with a teasing smile for his son.
Syed nods and tries his best to look amused.
#
Brunch is a jovial affair, with Zainab, Masood, Tam and Afia all in fine spirits. Nazir is included in the friendly banter, and Syed watches how innocently he behaves, how easily he ingratiates himself with them all. He tells some funny stories about his mother's attempts to find him a wife, he has lots to tell about Pakistan and the village where Masood and Zainab were born and raised, as his family also lives there. They have many people in common, and before long are enjoying a walk down memory lane. Syed wants to tell his family not to trust this charming man, that he is not what he seem to be; but more than anything he wants to feel Nazir's arms around him once more, to feel his touch ..." Suddenly Nazir is looking directly at him; for a split second their eyes meet and he blushes. And then, his phone beeps. "Where the hell are you?" the text from Christian doesn't beat around the bush. "At mum's; I'll be home in a bit," he replies.
"Christian?" Zainab guesses.
"Yea," he replies.
"What's going on with you two? "This is the second time in a week you've stayed here."
"I've got to get back," he responds, pushing back his chair and getting up.
###
"I've had enough of this," Christian barks as soon as he walks in the door of the flat. "Next time you decide to go back to mummy and daddy for the night, you can take your stuff with you, because I'll be changing the locks."
"I'm sorry ..."
"For what? What the hell's going on with you?"
"There's nothing ... it's nothing, honestly," Syed insists. "I just needed a bit of time to clear my head."
"What does that mean?"
"You wouldn't understand."
"Oh, and why is that? Am I not clever enough to be able to grasp the problems of someone with a third-level education?"
"No, of course not. Have I ever said ...?
"You didn't have to."
"What I meant was that you wouldn't understand how I'm feeling, because you've never struggled with the ... stuff I'm struggling with."
"What stuff?"
"It's just ... how I'm feeling," he concludes inadequately, unable to find the words to explain.
"How you're feeling about what?"
"Nothing, it's nothing," Syed says quietly.
"Well, I guess you were right when you said I wouldn't understand," Christian says sarcastically.
"When I try to explain … things, as soon as you hear something you don't like, you cut me short, you become defensive."
"So, basically, whatever is wrong is my fault; what a surprise."
"It's not your fault, not really, but turning every argument into a shouting match doesn't help."
"Yea, because I'm loud and obnoxious; I'm too rough and ready for a man with such delegate sensibilities. But isn't it funny how that doesn't seem to bother you when we're having sex. You never complain when I've got you pinned under me. Then again, maybe that's all you want from me now. Since we started living together, you've slowly started to withdraw; you've seen me close up, when I'm drunk, when I'm not looking my best, and you've found me wanting. That's what this is really about. Roxy was right, you're a snob."
"I guess Roxy knows best," Syed says miserably.
"Yea, yea, yea, all our problems are Rox's fault, or my fault," Christian sneers. "What's it like being so perfect?"
"I've never ...?"
But Christian is already walking into the bedroom, turning on the shower, getting ready to go out.
As he pulls off his shirt and jeans, he has a moment of clarity. "Sy's made up his mind about something," he thinks uneasily, "and everything I say and do is helping to reinforce the decision he's made. Suddenly, Christian is scared. "I'm losing him," he thinks, a nauseous feeling overcoming him. "I'm losing him," he realises, even as he replies to Syed's question with a prickly, "It takes two to make a relationship work, and I'm sick of being the one making all the effort." He cannot stop the defensive words from spilling out, even as he finally realises the damage they are doing.
#
A little later, sitting alone in the flat, Syed thinks about Christian's words. "I don't want to be a snob, I don't care how he looks first thing in the morning when he's suffering from a hangover, do I? I'm just not used to it, there was never any alcohol in our house; dad never had a hangover. And uncle AJ wasn't allowed near the house when we were growing up; he had to sneak in when mum was away visiting. The first time I saw anyone drunk, I was in my late teens."
And then, he thinks about Nazir. In this direction, his thoughts are crystal clear. He knows exactly what he wants from Nazir.
###
A couple of hours later
Syed pushes open the door of the Vic; it's been ages since he's been here and he feels a little self-conscious. That soon fades when he spots Roxy and Christian at the bar with two guys. One of them has his arm around Christian; he's standing very close to him, whispering something in his ear, his hand slides down to grab his bum. Syed turns and walks out again.
"Get off," Christian laughs, grabbing the guy's hand and pushing it away. "I'll have you know I'm taken."
"Don't be a tease," Jack (or John) giggles, reaching for him once more.
"Let's get out of here," Christian mouths to Roxy. He turns and lurches slightly unsteadily for the door.
"He was cute," Roxy protests, as they burst out of the Vic, giggling and shoving playfully at each other.
"Yea, not bad; I've still got it," Christian laughs.