Chapter 3
Syed is very nervous as he approaches his family's stall.
"Mas, I don't want to speak to him," Zainab says as soon as she sees him. "I have nothing to say to him," she insists.
"Please Zee, let's hear what he's got to say," Masood begs, putting a calming hand on her arm.
"I haven't come to have another argument," Syed assures immediately, raising his hands in a peaceful gesture. "I would like to come and see you at the house one evening to discuss a few things," he adds hopefully.
"We can do that, can't we?" says Masood cajolingly to his wife.
"After the way he spoke to me yesterday, and the way he's behaved recently …" begins Zainab, her voice rising.
"Not here," Syed says firmly. "I won't discuss it here."
"Fine then," snaps Zainab, "come for dinner tomorrow evening," she invites ungraciously, before turning her back on her son one more time.
That evening, Syed waits up for Christian, who eventually gets home after midnight. "I am going to mum and dad's for dinner tomorrow evening," he says quickly before Christian has even taken his jacket off. "Christian, did you hear what I said?" he asks, when he ignores him. He has to cross the room and take his arm to stop Christian walking into the bathroom and locking him out.
"What do you want me to say?" Christian replies with a sigh. Syed notices that he looks exhausted.
"I have to do this," he tries to explain.
"Whatever, do what you like, I don't care," says Christian bleakly, pulling his arm out of Syed's grip and walking away.
The following evening, Christian sits flicking through the channels on the TV as Syed gets ready. He hasn't spoken to him since the night before. Syed says "I'll see you later" as he's leaving, but Christian doesn't respond.
"Hey there," Tamwar greets him with a big hug when he arrives at the house. "Kamil's upstairs asleep, but you can see him later."
"Son, it's good to see you," Masood smiles at Syed, as he reaches out to hug him.
"Hope I'm not too early," replies Syed, turning away to hang his jacket and rejecting his father's embrace.
"Syed?" questions Masood.
"Something smells nice," Syed interrupts, walking past him into the sitting room.
"Syed," greets Zainab coldly, on seeing him as she arrives with some food. She is quite surprised when Syed ignores her, and turns to Tamwar to discuss further something they'd talked about earlier in the day.
"Let's sit down," Zainab commands, once she's put the last of the food on the table.
Throughout dinner, Syed answers briefly any questions Masood and Zainab put to him, and he nods politely to show he's listening when they tell him something.
"So, have you come to your senses?" Zainab eventually snaps, unable to hold back any longer. "Have you come to ask if you can move home? Because if you have, you need to understand that before we …"
"I've tried to understand your position with regard to my being gay," Syed interrupts calmly, looking around at each of them. "I've tried to accept that you now find me repulsive," he says coldly, addressing Zainab and Masood.
"Please, Syed …" attempts Masood.
"And I've been grateful to you for your love and support," he interrupts, smiling at Tamwar. "I know you both hate Christian," he continues, addressing his parents, "but I never realised just how far that hate would take you."
"To be honest, I've hoped these past few weeks that we could find a way to live with the present situation; that even though you hold your own uncompromising views on the matter, you might eventually come to understand and accept that I love Christian and can't live without him; and maybe even get to a point where we can at least be polite to each other. But I was naive to expect so much of you.
I've always been so desperate not to let you down, not to bring shame on you, that I've forgotten that it works both ways; and right now it is I who am ashamed of you.
"What are you talking about," sneers Zainab. "What has that ..."
"Don't you dare say a word against him," warns Syed. "I think maybe you've both forgotten that Christian is a human being, and that he is a creation of Allah the same as we are," he adds bitterly, looking directly at Masood. "To get to the point: Dad I want you to come with me now back to the flat, and I want you to apologise to Christian for not helping him when you saw him lying beaten on the pavement; and then I want you to go to Mosque and pray for forgiveness for what you did to a fellow human being."
"Syed ..." Masood starts to say, but Syed cuts across him.
"I want you to also pray that Christian accepts your apology; because if he doesn't, then I'm going to try to persuade him to come with me to the police station to make a statement about the beating: naming Qadim for what he did, but also you for leaving him lying injured in the street. I don't want to have to go after Qadim because of the extra pain it will bring Amira; but if Christian is not able to put this traumatic experience behind him, then I will push for justice."
"From now on, he is my main concern above all else."
"You would allow me to possibly go to jail, or get a criminal record?" asks Masood sadly. "For him?"
From the beginning," Syed continues as if he hadn't spoken, "I've not given Christian the same care and respect I've given you both. When I found out he'd been beaten up, I should have gone straight away to see him; I should have made sure he was all right. But instead, I was afraid to break a ridiculous promise I made to you about staying away from him. I was more worried about getting you both back together; so worried in fact, that I actually sat down to eat dinner with you, even though I was afraid you were responsible for Christian getting beaten up. That's how little importance and respect I gave him; gave our love for each other. I was brought up to believe that being gay was shameful, and I was ashamed of me and Christian. I always put my family first, without realising that when we fell in love he became my family, too. You both need to understand that I love Christian just as much as you love each other. I've always looked at him as being this big, strong guy, full of bravado, able to deal with anyone or anything; I didn't understand that he needed my protection just as much as I needed his. And because I didn't protect Christian, I allowed you to hurt him; I allowed Qadim to hurt him; I let him down. But it won't happen again.
"Well, isn't that sweet, our little boy's in love," sneers Zainab. "You're sick, you know, you're both …"
"Oh, just change the record," snaps Syed, abruptly pushing back his chair and standing up. He leans towards her for a moment and says quietly, "You know, you're really starting to get boring now," before straightening up and turning to walk out.
"Christian won't want me coming anywhere near his flat," says Masood quickly, stopping him in his tracks.
"Well, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it," replies Syed firmly; trying not to let Masood see how shocked he is that his dad has actually listened to him, and is prepared to even consider making an apology."
"Okay," replies Masood flatly; he goes to get his jacket.
When they arrive back at the flat, they find Christian sprawled face down on the bed with an empty wine bottle beside him.
"Christian, are you awake?" whispers Syed, gently touching his shoulder.
"What d'you want?" he slurs, opening one eye and looking balefully up at him. "Come back to get your stuff, have you?" he asks bitterly, before turning his head away.
"I've got someone here who has something to say to you," Syed tells him gently.
"Tell them to go away, I don't want to see anyone," Christian mumbles.
"Please Christian," he begs, "it's my dad."
"Masood?" growls Christian, now turning around and struggling to get up into a sitting position, Syed having definitely gotten his attention. He manages to get his balance on the second attempt, with Syed's help; and sits staring disbelievingly at Masood for a few seconds before telling him angrily to get out.
Syed can see the vulnerability he is desperately trying to cover up, and it breaks his heart. "It's okay," he says softly, taking Christian's hand in his. He then looks at Masood.
"Christian ...," Masood starts to say, but his voice fails him. He clears his throat and starts again. "Christian, I want to apologise for leaving you lying hurt on the ground that night. It was a terrible thing to do, and I can offer no excuse for it. I've never done anything like that in my life before, and will always deeply regret it. I am very sorry."
Christian looks at him intently for a moment before turning to Syed. "Please ask him to go," he says huskily, his eyes filling with tears.
"Of course," Syed replies, putting his arms around him to comfort him. Over his shoulder, he motions to Masood to leave.
After he's gone, they lie back on the bed, with Christian's head resting on Syed's chest and Syed's arms around him; and after a little while Syed realises that Christian has fallen asleep. He kisses the top of his head, and enjoys the feeling of being so close to him for the first time in so long. Eventually, he also drifts off to sleep.
The next time he wakes, it's dark and Christian is in the bathroom throwing up. "Sometimes alcohol really sucks, doesn't it?" Syed says with a smile, as he puts his hand under his forehead to support him.
"Um," mumbles Christian.
When he's feeling a little better, Syed leaves him to freshen up, and goes to the kitchen.
"Thanks," murmurs Christian, accepting the toast and tea Syed hands him when he finally feels well enough to leave the bathroom. "Wine doesn't always agree with me," he admits.
"No," agrees Syed.
"Did I dream that earlier?" he asks.
"If you mean my dad making an awkward apology, then no you didn't," replies Syed. I know it doesn't let him off the hook," he adds, "and if you want to take this further, I'm with you all the way."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, if it would help you to go to the police and make a statement telling them exactly what happened with Qadim, including telling them about my dad leaving you when you needed help. I know time has passed, but there are hospital records to back you up; and someone's bound to have seen Qadim and his thugs around the square that day."
"You're kidding, right?" asks Christian incredulously.
"I've never been more serious," says Syed sincerely. "What they did was wrong, just as wrong as what that guy did to you last year after my engagement party. I've thought about suggesting you report it before, but didn't think I had any right to, since I wasn't there to help you after it happened; and I felt so guilty about what I did to Amira that the idea of causing her any more pain was, well ..." he trails off.
"You're not the only one feeling guilty about what happened to Amira," Christian replies.
They sit in silence for a little while, each lost in his own thoughts.
"I won't deny that the beating really shook me up," Christian eventually admits. "I still feel a bit jittery sometimes, and have had a few nightmares; but involving the police after all this time, would only force me to re-live it all again. And besides, I don't really want to have any more dealings with Qadim.
To be totally honest, you blanking me in the street, and not even caring enough to ask me how I was, hurt more than the beating," he adds, his voice full of sadness. He then gets up and goes back to bed, putting an end to the conversation.
After a few minutes, Syed follows. He gets in beside Christian and slips his arm around his waist, pulling him back against him. "I'm sorry," he whispers.
Christian doesn't reply, and after a little while Syed starts to get restless.
"Forget it," snaps Christian, grabbing his hand as it starts to move lower, "nothing's changed, you're not getting any."
"No, maybe not tonight," murmurs Syed, determinedly snuggling closer to his man. He notices that Christian doesn't remove his arm from around his waist, or let go of his hand.
The next day, Syed leaves for work before Christian wakes, and when he returns in the evening Christian is in the kitchen cooking dinner.
"Need any help with that?" he asks after he's removed his jacket.
"No, it's almost ready," he replies, "just grab a couple of forks and some water from the fridge."
As they eat, Syed tells him about his day; Christian says very little.
After they've washed up, Christian turns on the TV and starts flicking through the channels; and Syed comes and sits beside him, tucking himself in by his side and moving Christian's arm so that it's around his shoulder.
"Sy," he says wearily, removing his arm, "I can't do this."
"Because you don't want me anymore?" asks Syed, putting his arm back where it was. "Because you've stopped loving me?"
"Yes, both, and it's too late to go back now," insists Christian, removing his arm once more and turning to face him.
"You're such a liar," says Syed, smiling confidently at him.
"What makes you think that?" he replies.
"Because when you were drunk the other night, you told me you still love me," Syed tells him, crossing his fingers behind his back.
"I did not," says Christian fairly confidently. He moves along the couch away from Syed. "I wouldn't have said that," he insists, "and anyway stuff you say when you're drunk doesn't count. I've moved on."
"We both know you haven't," Syed says calmly.
"The other night when I stayed out, I went clubbing with Roxy and Chelsea, and I met a guy," says Christian desperately.
"No you didn't. I spoke to Roxy."
"You did what?" he asks incredulously.
"Well, it wasn't pretty," Syed confesses, "and I really didn't fancy it, but I had to know, so I went to the Vic the next morning. There was no one there except Roxy and Chelsea, and I got a frosty reception to say the least. Roxy refused to talk about you behind your back, but Chelsea was only too happy to tell me that you'd been with lots of blokes since we split. And even though I'd suspected as much, it was a bit of a blow; there was nothing I could say, I had to get out of there.
When Roxy found me, I was sitting on one of the swings feeling sorry for myself," he laughs self-consciously. "She wouldn't let me leave until she'd explained that since we split you've only had a couple of one-night stands, and they were before I started living with you. She also reluctantly told me that you've admitted to her that you still carry a torch for me.
I know she was telling the truth, because she has made it clear more than once that she doesn't like me, and would love nothing better than to be able to tell me you're no longer interested.
"You've no right to go speaking to Chelsea and Roxy about me," Christian accuses, trying to avoid having to explain himself.
"Oh yes I have," snaps Syed, suddenly outraged, "especially if you're going to go around picking up other guys, and making me look like an idiot. What do you think people will say if they see you out on the pull only a couple of weeks after I've moved in? Don't forget, I have to go out on the stall every day and face everyone ..."
"Oh, man," laughs Christian, "do you know who you sound like?"
"Who?" asks Syed unimpressed.
"Your mother," replies Christian.
"I do not," argues Syed, even more outraged.
"Ha-ha, you so do," laughs Christian, as he ducks to avoid Syed's swipe.
"Well, she's not always wrong," mutters Syed, sulking.
"And to think I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you," says Christian, his laughter dying as he realises what he's said.
"You still could," says Syed softly, reaching out to touch his cheek and looking deep into his eyes.
"No, Sy, that ship has sailed," he replies firmly, doing his best to sound convincing.
"Have I told you lately that I love you," murmurs Syed, drawing his face slowly towards him.
"I said 'No', Syed, I can't do this again," shouts Christian, his anger getting the better of him. He can feel himself starting to weaken, so he pushes Syed away and gets up to leave the room; but Syed quickly follows, and grabs his arm to stop him from going too far.
"Why not?" he asks gently, turning him around to face him.
"Because as soon as your family decide they want you back, you'll go running home; you love them more than me, remember," Christian cries, his voice full of pain. And even if your family wasn't an issue, I can't handle the fact that you're ashamed of what you are, of what we are; so ashamed that you tried to 'cure' yourself."
"Christian, I promise you I'm not going to go running home," Syed says as firmly as he can. "The last few weeks here living with you, have been the happiest of my life. And I now know that being with you doesn't mean I will never see my family; well Tam and Kamil at any rate. Mum can barely stand to look at me right now, but I believe that if I keep some kind of dialogue going, then hopefully slowly but surely she'll come around. I'm not kidding myself that she will ever be completely at ease with me the way she used to be," he admits sadly, "but I think things will get easier over time once she accepts that I'm serious about spending my life with you."
"Um," murmurs Christian, non-committedly.
"As for 'curing' myself," Syed continues awkwardly, "I did desperately want to stop having these feelings. I thought that if I could stop loving you, all my problems would magically disappear. I know it hurts you to hear me say this, and I'm sorry. But to be honest, after seeing you with that guy, I didn't care anymore about my own future, I'd lost you and I knew there would never be anyone else; but it hurt mum and dad so much my being gay, so I thought I could change for them.
I won't deny I've always wished I wasn't gay, it would have saved me from so many painful and uncomfortable moments, so many lies. But if this past year has thought me anything, it's that when it comes to my feelings for you, it doesn't matter how hard I try or what I do I can't control them or change them.
Living here with you has given me a little taste of what your life is like, and it's not as scary as I thought it was going to be. I'll admit, I'm still afraid of what people will say to me; and I would still find it difficult to tell anyone I was gay; but it's getting a little easier each day to walk out into the Square to do my day's work.
In my life, Allah has helped me so many times in so many ways; I've always felt he was watching over me. But this past year, no matter how hard I prayed, begged him to help me to be strong, to do the right thing, to be a good Muslim; I couldn't understand why he wouldn't listen to me. But during the past couple of months, I've had a lot of time to think, and I've realised that Allah has actually been trying to guide me along the right path the whole time. What I was praying for, what I was asking Allah to do was to change what I am; but why would Allah change something he created? I now see that Allah believes the right thing for me is to be with you; he did answer my prayers, I just didn't realise it. So how can I be ashamed of being gay, if it's the way Allah made me; if it's the life Allah wants for me?
I don't think I will ever be able to be as open about my sexuality as you, but I think I've finally accepted who I have to be. And, thanks mainly to you, it has happened so very gradually, but I now feel more comfortable with who I am.
Couldn't you give me one more chance?" he pleads.
"I don't know," Christian says helplessly. "How can I trust you anymore."
"Do you still love me?" Syed asks him gently.
"What if the stall hadn't worked out for you?" he replies, still desperately fighting to keep the promise he made to himself. "If things had gone wrong, you'd ..."
"I'd find another job. I don't mind what sort of work I do. Being happy these last few weeks hasn't been about the job, it's been about being with you; it's been about all the little mundane things we do together every day. The stall has been just one of the bonuses, but it would have meant nothing without you."
"I really tried to move on, I couldn't take it anymore; I wanted to move on," Christian admits hopelessly.
"I know," Syed says sadly, "but I'm so glad you didn't succeed," he adds, gently stroking Christian's cheek, trying to soothe his pain.
Christian stares into his eyes for an endless moment, before making a decision that will change the course of his life forever.
"I can't do it, I can't go through it all again, it hurts too much, I'm sorry," he whispers wretchedly; and, removing Syed's hand, he steps back from him.
"NO," cries Syed desperately, hearing the finality in his words. He reaches out to him, but Christian backs away.
"I think it would be best if you moved out," he says, his voice dead, emotionless. "Maybe you could find a place with Tamwar; the stall is doing well, you can afford it. If you need a deposit, I'll give you the money," he offers, forcing the words out, unable to look at him.
"Don't do this ... If you do this ..." Syed pleads, his voice raw with emotion. "Do you really think I'll let you go now?" he cries, grasping and holding tightly onto Christian's hands, even as Christian tries to pull away. "After a year, a lifetime of accepting my fate, you give me a glimpse of how it could be and then you snatch it away. Do you really think I'll let you leave me now?" he cries frantically, his voice rising in anger and pain.
"Sy," Christian tries to calm him down, "you'll find someone else …" he tries to reason, even as his heart is breaking into a million pieces.
"Someone else? Someone else?" Syed screams. Do you think I risked losing my family, my community for some casual crush that I'll get over? Some guy I'll love for a while and then move on from? I'll never stop loving you, can't you see that?" he begs hoarsely.
"I just can't do it anymore ..." Christian cries brokenly, tears slowly rolling down his cheeks.
But Syed cuts him off, "You can't do it anymore? Really? Well that's just tough, because you don't have a choice," he shouts angrily. "If you leave me, I'll do it again, I won't care ..."
"You'll do what?" asks Christian, his voice now dangerously quiet.
"I'll have nothing worth ..." Syed starts to say, but the look in Christian's eyes stops him.
"Don't you even think about doing something like that, EVER," cries Christian, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him. "Do you know how lucky you are to be alive, how lucky you are that Masood found you when he did?" he screams at him. "You could have died," he cries. "You could have died," he then repeats the words more slowly to himself. "I could have lost you forever," he adds huskily, the words and their meaning slowly sinking in for him; and then he starts to cry, gently at first and then harder and harder until his whole body is shaking. He buries his head in his hands, unable to bear the pain.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," begs Syed. "I should never have said that, I didn't mean it," he cries. He puts his arms around Christian and holds him tightly. "I won't try to do it again, I won't" he promises urgently, trying to put his mind at ease. "I swear," he whispers, pressing his lips close to Christian's ear, trying to reach him.
"Syed, you've got to promise me …" Christian sobs, when he is able to get the words out.
Syed lifts Christian's face and looks deep into his eyes, "I promise you, on my baby brother's life, I will never even for a moment ever again consider taking my own life."
"If anything happened to you, I don't know what I'd do," Christian whispers.
"Back at you," says Syed softly, tears rolling down his cheeks. He reaches up and gently presses his lips against Christian's; and after a moment Christian can't help but respond to his touch, and they gently kiss, drawing comfort from each other, totally lost in each other.
"You won't ever leave me, will you?" Syed pleads huskily after a little while.
"I've never left you, it's always been you who has walked away," Christian reminds him sadly.
"I'll never leave you again," Syed promises faithfully, his voice shaking with emotion.
And Christian realises that this time he truly means it. He feels like a weight that has been pressing down on his heart for so long has finally been lifted. His mouth finds Syed's once more, and this time he kisses him passionately, releasing all the emotion and passion he's held back all these weeks.
"So, now do I get any?" grasps Syed breathlessly against his lips when they eventually come up for air.
"SY-ED," cries Christian, pulling back, shocked, "we're not there yet, we've just come through …"
"I know, I know," mumbles Syed, blushing, "but do you realise how long it's been since we've … I just need ... Can you imagine what it's like not being able to touch you for four long months, and then getting a few precious days, and then … it's even worse after. And you know when someone says to you 'Sweets are bad for you', well what do you want most in the world at that moment? And now can you imagine being told that homosexuals are bad for you every day for a month; it got to the stage where every time I heard the word, I got a picture of you in my head: sometimes you were smiling at me, but mostly you were looking at me in that way you look when, you know, you want …, and sometimes you were wearing clothes …; AND have you any idea what it's been like living in this flat with you for a whole month and not being able to …
Maybe we could talk after, all night if you want, but …" he trails off sheepishly, and buries his face in Christian's neck, too embarrassed to look him in the eye.
"Can we, Christian, please?" he begs from his hiding place, his voice muffled.
"Hey," says Christian gently, hooking a couple of fingers under Syed's chin and lifting his face up so that he can look into his beautiful eyes, "you know you never have to beg me for anything," he says softly.
"You were going to leave me a minute ago," Syed reminds him resentfully.
"I was going to try," Christian admits ruefully.
"So, now can we?" he persists.
"Can I say something first?" Christian asks mischievously, a smile tugging at his lips, despite his best efforts.
"Okay," says Syed patiently.
"I want you to promise me that if anyone gives you a hard time, you'll come and talk to me; even if it's your mum. I won't kick off at anyone unless you want me to, I'll just listen. Promise me you won't bottle stuff up."
"I promise," says Syed huskily, reaching to kiss him to show how much this means to him. But as he tries to deepen the kiss, Christian pulls back.
"You know I would do anything to protect you from anyone who would try to hurt you," Christian assures him. "The only time I won't be able to help you is when you go to Mosque," he adds regretfully, "but you can still talk to me about it. I know it won't be easy when Tamwar goes to Uni, and you won't have him to go to Mosque with you."
"And you know that I find it easier to talk to you then to anyone I've ever met," Syed reminds him with a smile. "Last year, when we were together, we shared everything; and we've already pretty much slipped back into that way of going over the past few weeks. You're not just the man I love, you're the best friend I've ever had.
Now, is that it?" he asks pointedly.
"Right, fine, come here," growls Christian mock angrily, suddenly reaching out to grab a surprised Syed and throw him over his shoulder caveman style; before carrying him, giggling and protesting, over and throwing him down on the bed. And before Syed can do more than breathlessly say "Christian!," he's on top of him, kissing him passionately and ripping off his clothes.
Much, much later
"I love you," whispers Syed, lying in Christian's arms looking very contentedly up at him.
"I love you too," says Christian softly, leaning down to gently kiss him and hold him close, forever.
The End
Thank you for reading this fanfic. I hope you liked it.
