Chapter 13
"Your dad?" Syed says a little later just as Danny is about to succumb to sleep.
"What about him?" he responds, immediately wide awake and on the defensive.
"Before you came out, did you get on with him?"
"I don't want to talk about it."
"You were closer to your mother?" he hazards, lifting a hand to touch his cheek in an effort to ease his growing tension.
"Syed, leave it; it's none of your business," Danny says harshly, pushing his hand away. He makes a move to turn away from him, but Syed's hand in his shoulder gently but firmly stops him.
"From what Tara and Vince said, I got the impression that you and she were very close," he offers.
"We were; but when it came down to it, she sided with my dad."
"She seemed really worried about you ..."
"How could her devotion to some vague, distant God; her belief in some religious doctrine preached by people she barely knew, have mattered more to her than me?" Danny cries in a burst of frustration; a question he has obviously agonised over many times.
Syed's hand discretely moves back to his cheek. "It may have seemed that way at the time …" he tries.
"Or maybe all that stuff was just an excuse; maybe the real reason she turned against me was because she was so revolted when she found out ... what I was ..." Danny's voice breaks at the pain this last thought causes him.
"There is absolutely nothing revolting about you," Syed warmly assures. He instinctively moves closer until their foreheads are touching.
"Yesterday, she kissed me on the cheek, and I honestly can't remember the last time she did that," he confesses miserably.
"Sometimes, the only thing you can do is focus on the one thing you know for sure: no matter how cruelly they act towards you, your mum and dad can never stop loving you," Syed gently advises.
"Did that work for you?" he asks huskily after a thoughtful silence.
"Mostly," Syed smiles, tilting his head slightly so that he can look into Danny's eyes once more. "There were a few confrontations; I came away emotionally battered and bruised more than once, and it would all be so terribly bleak and hopeless for a while. But then, one random day, walking down the street, I'd spot mum or dad coming out of a shop or maybe walking through the market, and my heart would fill to bursting with such a powerful feeling of longing. I would find myself standing in front of her, saying hello, smiling hopefully. An icy, contemptuous glare; and I would watch her walk quickly away. It hurt so much, every time mum rejected me," he says mournfully.
"All that's behind you now," Danny gently reminds him.
"I know, and I thank God every day for it," he says huskily.
"I suppose mum has tried, in her own unique way, to keep me in her life all these years," Danny reluctantly concedes. "That hospital appointment yesterday was a prime example. And we often bump into each other at Tara's or Vince's; she'll turn up 'unexpectedly' when she knows I'm there. I suppose, deep down, I know she cares."
"How did you feel about your dad when you were growing up?" Syed attempts once more.
"We got on well enough, but I knew he liked Vince better," he sighs.
"How come?"
"Dad found it easier to talk to Vince; they were more alike. The odd time he and I ever found ourselves alone together, I never knew what to say to him; we had no common ground."
"It happens that way sometimes," Syed says sadly.
"I can only imagine what he thinks of me now," Danny can't help the bitterness in his voice.
"You'd be surprised …"
"Vince regularly risks his life to save people; something my father can identify with, being a policeman; Vince has his pick of the girls, and will one day marry and give my parents grandchildren. I, on the other hand, am an Investment Banker who fucks guys, and rips people off for kicks. If I were my dad, I know which of us I'd prefer."
"Does he know about that?" Syed asks, shocked.
"No; he'd probably arrest me himself, if he found out," Danny laughs bitterly.
"Well, at least now that you've put that life behind you, you won't have to worry about him ever finding out what you were up to," Syed can't resist reminding him.
"But it's not just about me, is it?" he points out with a sly smile, his mood abruptly shifting. "I remember how fired up you were that day, when you handed me the envelope of cash. You could barely contain your excitement; knowing that, whilst all the dull no-hopers around you were going about their mind-numbingly boringly repetitive day, you were now going to be living this secret, risky and potentially dangerous, double-life. And, best of all, no one would have a clue about what you were really up to."
"Are we still talking about me?" Syed teases.
"Maybe not completely," he laughs a little self-consciously, "but I'm not even slightly exaggerating; it really does lift you beyond the mundane; that rush of adrenalin … and what really keeps the blood pumping is knowing that you can never be more than 80-90 per cent in control of the situation; something unexpected ..."
"Like my dad …"
"Exactly ... can happen at any time to spoil the party."
"And what if he'd had two or three guys with him that day when he confronted you, guys with knives or guns? What would you have done then?"
"But that's all part of what makes it so thrilling," he cries enthusiastically. "Even the most mild-mannered guy can have a violent brother/cousin/father ..."
"Have you ever been badly hurt?"
"No; I can handle myself; ask your ex, he'll vouch for it," Danny can't resist boasting. "Ouch," he cries, as the hand gently touching his cheek pinches hard, leaving a red mark.
"I don't usually get involved with families, or boyfriends; I'm usually long gone by the time they find out what's been going on. You made me lose focus," he murmurs with a little smile.
"You have all the money you could ever need … I don't understand why …"
"It's not about the money. The money is the equivalent of a gold medal; proof you've been successful, nothing more," Danny easily dismisses. "Some people pay to get a taste of danger and excitement under controlled conditions: £6,000 to run six marathons in six days across the Sahara desert or £12,000 to bungee jump from a helicopter into the mouth of an active volcano in Chile; others go for the more predictable buzz: high-stakes gambling or maybe hard drugs at parties on the weekend.
But, of course, there is no point in doing any of these things, unless you can come to work and brag about it afterwards," he adds sarcastically. "And, obviously, these guys know everything and everyone; they've been everywhere … Mention a place, no matter how remote, and you can bet one of them went there on holiday last year; talk about an upcoming Arsenal/Chelsea game and someone is bound to know someone who has an executive box at the stadium with a great view of the pitch. It's so incredibly fucking irritating listening to them trying to out-do each other. And have you any idea how cringingly embarrassing it is when public-school-educated nerds try to sound street? And all the while I'm thinking, 'you dick-heads would never in a million years have the guts to do what I do. And it doesn't matter how 'radical' you think your dress-down Friday gear is, you wouldn't survive five minutes in the real world.'"
"People want to fit in; that's all it is," Syed gently soothes.
"They drive me up the wall most of the time," Danny admits through gritted teeth.
"Sounds like it," he smiles.
Syed looking at him with those big soulful eyes, gently caring; and he can't resist, he smiles back, his tension slipping away. "How do you do it?" he asks, his tone dropping almost to a whisper.
"Do what?" Syed asks curiously; but a kiss interrupts whatever Danny might have said in response.
"We'd make a great team," he whispers persuasively against his mouth; as his fingers, with a feather-light touch, glide down over the smooth skin between Syed's shoulder blades towards the base of his spine …
"Yes," Syed breathes, his body trembling in response.
"You don't really want me to go, straight, do you?" he softly coaxes.
"Hmm," is the distracted, somewhat less than decisive response. Syed's hand on Danny's hip urges him closer; his fingers digging into the soft flesh, impatient…
#
"I don't like taking risks, I don't need that kind of excitement," Syed weakly, unconvincingly denies, eventually.
"Liar," Danny says softly.
"But I do want you to go straight," he huskily pleads; his gaze intense, as he looks into his eyes. "I want you to be safe."
"I know," Danny sighs, accepting the truth of it. They are both silent for a little while, lost in thought.
"You must find all this incredibly boring?" Syed asks abruptly, uneasily.
"No, of course not," he immediately responds, surprised. "You could never bore me ..." He hesitates, wary. "It's nice having you around, of course; this place is too big for just one person … and you're a great cook, which is … great …"
"Thanks," Syed politely responds, underwhelmed.
#
"You really shouldn't compare yourself so harshly to Vince," he remembers, a little later.
"Not me, my dad," Danny quickly corrects. "I've never had a problem with the choices I've made in life; and the last thing I'd ever want to be is some boring, hen-pecked hetro, whose only joy in life is when he escapes to the pub for a few pints with the lads on a Friday night."
"I don't think they're all hen-pecked," Syed responds amused.
"Maybe not, but they're all definitely boring."
Syed smiles indulgently, but doesn't comment further. He is getting used to Danny's random little outbursts; he finds him adorably cute when he's in full rant mode.
"It doesn't matter how much money I make or how many houses I buy, dad's never going to be proud of me; I'll never compare with Vince in his eyes," Danny confesses, his voice filled with sadness.
"No two people are the same, it's not about houses or money; whether you've got a 1-bed flat or a 5-bed house, a Mercedes or a seat on the bus; as long as you're doing your best, you're doing enough to make your mum and dad proud, if they have any sense."
"Do you really believe that?"
"I know deep down that it's the truth; but being logical about these things isn't always easy – the whole manly-pride thing ..."
"Yea," Danny agrees with a sympathetic smile.
"Have you ever talked to Vince or Tara about how you feel? They seemed convinced your dad cared about you very much."
"Vince and Tara think our problems only started once dad found out I was gay; I could never tell them or anyone else about this," he quickly dismisses, unaware of how much his words mean to Syed. "I don't want people thinking I'm weak, or pathetically needy ... What did I say? Why are you smiling?" he asks, puzzled.
"Un, no, it's nothing; I was just thinking …," Syed babbles, as he tries to come up with some excuse for his reaction; but for once, his mind goes completely blank. "Vince is a fireman," he murmurs randomly.
"Yes, he is; something I thought we'd already established," Danny points out amused.
"Yea, yea, a fireman …," he desperately searches for a point to make. "They're so big and strong, and brave ... It's a tough act to follow, I suppose …" he hazards, attempting to jokingly tease, but unintentionally provoking.
"Really? You've fantasised about a big hunky fireman throwing you over his shoulder and carrying you off, have you?" Danny growls; abruptly pulling back the quilt and jumping out of the bed.
"Where are you going?" Syed laughs.
"I never showed you where the building's fire escape was, did I?" he asks, the look on his face perfectly serious. And before Syed understands his intention; he has reached over, grabbed him by the legs, dragged him out of the bed and thrown him over his shoulder in one rapid movement.
"Danny," he cries, "don't you dare …"
"Hopefully, we won't run into anyone on the stairs," Danny casually cuts across him as he strides purposefully towards the front door.
"We're not wearing any clothes," Syed screams. "Your neighbours …"
"They'd be lucky; people would pay good money to see us naked," he says confidently.
"Danny, I'm serious, let me down," Syed shouts. But just as he really begins to panic, Danny drops him off of his shoulder and pins him against the front door, pins his arms above his head and captures his mouth in a burning hot kiss.
The coolness of the steel door pressing against his back and the heat from Danny's hot flesh pressed hard against his front, send all kinds of shivers up and down Syed's body. And all he can do is cling to him, as Danny uses his mouth and hands to sweetly torture him.
The front door joins the growing list of places in the flat to get christened, and they eventually make it back to bed.
#
"You'd make a great fireman," Syed breathes in his ear, just as Danny is about to drop off to sleep.
"You're not tired, are you?" he sighs.
"Honestly, I felt so safe and secure in your arms."
"I'll be the first to admit that you're the hottest thing since sliced bread, but I don't think a shag is part of the bargain; they usually figure saving your life is service enough," Danny says with a smile.
"I'll bet your father thinks about you every day; and that he feels a huge amount of guilt over the way things turned out," Syed gently suggests.
"You never know," Danny murmurs, with little conviction.
"He may have more in common with Vince, but it doesn't mean he loves you less."
"I don't bear any kind of grudge against Vince; I'm actually very proud of him. I could never do what he does; I'm no hero," Danny confesses.
"Heroes can be surprisingly difficult to live with; and they're surprisingly insecure without the cape, you tend to find," Syed opines.
"I think I would be able to run into a burning building to save someone," Danny tentatively offers, "as long as the fire wasn't too far advanced," he warily qualifies.
"I know you would," Syed soothes. "Would you risk your life for me?" he fishes, giving him his best flirtatious look, his eyes darkening sexily.
"Of course," he responds without hesitation.
"Really?"
"Well, you do still owe me money; and, like I said, you're a great cook, so it'd be worth my while," he teases.
"It's nice to know where I stand," Syed says in a huff, "and on that note …," he makes a grand production of turning to lie with his back to him.
"Ah, you know I don't mean it. If I thought you were in any kind of danger, I wouldn't hesitate to jump in after you," Danny promises; snuggling up to him.
"I'd catch a grenade for ya," he solemnly promises, as he nuzzles his neck.
"Well that's useful to know; I'm sure it'll come in handy one day," Syed grumbles sarcastically.
"If you won't let me do anything illegal, we're going to have to go on some very adventurous holidays to get our fix of danger and excitement," he points out practically.
"I thought you didn't like guys who went on adventure holidays; and that you thought they were annoying."
"I don't, and they are," he quickly confirms.
"But doesn't that mean ...?"
"No, it doesn't," Danny growls.
"Whatever you say, you know best," Syed responds, laughter in his voice.
#
"Exactly how adventurous are we talking?" he asks apprehensively, just as Danny is about to drop off to sleep once more.
"Don't worry, leave it with me, I'll come up with something that'll knock your socks off," he promises through a yawn.
"Well, just so you know, I don't like heights, or confined spaces, or guns; and I'm afraid of sharks, snakes, rats …"
"Shush," Danny whispers, quickly cutting off his nervous babble with a kiss.
#
"There's a pool?" Syed asks after another few minutes.
"No more chocolate cake for you late at night," Danny mumbles sleepily.
"I enjoyed tonight; Tara and Vince are nice."
"They're not bad," he begrudgingly allows. "We get on pretty well most of the time."
"Where is the pool?"
"It's next to the gym in the basement."
"Of course, where else would you have it," Syed laughs.
"I haven't really made much use of it since I've been here; but if you're interested, and if you promise to try really hard to fall asleep, we can check it out tomorrow."
Syed snuggles up close to him, and Danny puts his arm around him. The steady rise and fall of Danny's chest lulls him to sleep.