I've jumped ahead in time a bit with this new chapter. It's the famous "Gotcha" scene. With this chapter, I tried to show how Syed came to say "Ok" after all that resistence.

~s~c~

'Gotcha'

He laughs.

'Yeah, you have' And then he looks at me and grabs my hand.

'Come back to mine'

It is as if the last few weeks never happened. Just like that, I give in.

'Ok'

What the hell am I doing? I've fought so hard. Pushed him away, resisted him, physically fought with him. All for nothing?

~s~c~

My life is a nightmare, yet in my dreams I am in heaven. Every night I dream of him. His hands on me, his lips… The feeling of being possessed by him, protected by him, worshipped by him. In my dreams I am in his bed, in his arms, in his life. We are so close, our limbs tangled up, our sweat and our breath mixing. My dreams send me searing high, heart bursting with happiness. In my dreams there is only us, nothing else exists.

I remember how it was before. I remember not being able to sleep, tossing and turning in my bed. Feeling tortured by my desire for him. My body's aching need of his, keeping me awake. I thought that was bad. But this… This is so much worse.

Every night I lead the life that can never be mine. It is so… real. I can feel his body, pressing against me as he spoons me. I can feel his hands, touching me. His skin on mine, radiating his heat to warm me through and through. His lips… everywhere. His tongue, teasing, flicking, sucking… His cock, in my mouth, pressed against my abdomen, buried deep inside me. I can feel him. I can. And then…

And then I wake up and my whole world shatters into tiny little pieces. None of it is real. He is not here. He is not mine. And I, I am not his. Every day I wake up like this. With the heat, the passion, the thrill, the exhilaration still pumping through my veins. My body flushed and sweaty, my hair a tangled mess, my breath and my heart still racing. I'll either wake up with a raging hard on, aching for release, or with my climax yet behind me, leaving only a guilty sticky mess.

It is devastating. It is devastating to wake up believing myself the luckiest man alive. Believing us to be in love, together, united. Feeling so utterly happy, fulfilled, safe. Waking up, expecting him to be right there. And then, every morning, reality kicks me in the gut. No Christian. No us. It isn't real. It was just a dream. The disappointment leaving a bitter taste.

My dreams have been torturing me by night and he, he has been torturing me by day. Coming way too close. Touching me. Or even worse, almost touching me. Looking at me with those knowing eyes. I have closed myself off to him again, but I know he can still see. See how much I want him. See how desperate I am not to want him.

I expected him to tell. I waited for him to tell Amira, Dad, Mum, anyone. I tried to make sure he wouldn't. I tried pushing him away as far as I could. I tried messing with his head, but he is so much better at that than I could ever be. I expected him to tell, but he didn't.

I don't quite know how he feels about me now. He still wants me, he's made no secret of that, but does he care for me? Even if it's just a little bit? I shouldn't care one way or the other, but I do. I so do.

I also don't know why he doesn't just… make his move. Keeping my distance, pushing him away, is all well and good. I can do that. But if he really wanted to… He could just pull me into him, kiss me, and I would be his. And I think he knows that. So why doesn't he? My guess is that he wants it to be my choice. Made consciously. One I can't deny later.

I know I can't be with him. I made a mistake, that's all. I shouldn't have kissed him, and as for the rest, well… I know I should feel guilty. And I do, I really do. I feel guilty for lying to my parents, to Amira. I feel guilty for wanting him every single minute of every single day. I feel guilty towards my god, because although I can have doubts about my faith and my sexuality, I know the way I have acted is wrong. I've lied and I've cheated. And I want more. I feel guilty when my thoughts are filled with him, instead of my family, my faith, Amira. I'm starting to resent Amira for her spoilt behaviour and her disdain to my family. And I feel guilty about that too. I feel guilty that I am not the son my parents want and think me to be. I feel guilty… I do. But what I don't feel guilty about, is being with Christian that night. I know it was wrong. I know it should have never happened. But I also know, there was nothing I could do. It was a disaster waiting to happen, and I could do nothing to stop it.

~s~c~

I told him I would meet him later at his place. I told him I would try and fix the painting as best I could and talk to Mum first. What I didn't tell him was that I needed some time. Last time, I allowed myself no time to think. No time to hesitate. But this time is different. I could forgive myself for making this mistake once. But to make it twice?

Being with Christian, even if it was only once, was inevitable. I know that now. I might have been able to stop it from happening that particular night, but it would have happened eventually. But now? I could stop myself now. I could text him that I changed my mind, or that something came up, that I can't get away. I could go home, have a family meal, watch some telly and have another night full of dreams of him. I could, and I should. But I don't want to. I want to go to him. Feel those arms around me again. See him looking at me like he did that night, feel beautiful again. I could touch him, every last part of him, and he would let me. I could, but I shouldn't. But I want to.

If I go to him, it will mean guilt later. It would mean I could have stopped myself, but didn't. One more thing to feel guilty about. And it couldn't go anywhere. Nothing has changed. More lies, more betrayal. But also… one more time of feeling wonderful and this time not wake up and find it was a dream. One more chance to taste him, feel him, be with him…

It was yesterday that I gave up the fight. I've been doing everything in my power to keep my distance. But yesterday, we had to work together, side by side, no one else around. He was taunting me, going on and on about some bloke he was meeting up with. In the end, I just couldn't take it anymore. I was exhausted with the rollercoaster of feelings, high and exiting in my dreams, low and devastating when I woke. Exhausted with trying to keep my distance. Exhausted from fighting back the urge to just fling myself in his arms and shut him up with a massive snog.

Something snapped. He pushed me too far. I pushed myself too far. Before I knew it, I was wrestling him on the floor. I must have looked like a right pratt. What was I thinking? The man is twice my size for fucks sake. What did I think I was going to accomplish? Battle him into submission with my teeny tiny arms and fist? Well, maybe not so teeny tiny really, but when compared to him? He is just on another scale than the rest of us.

So I lost. And then we talked. It was good really. Like… like we were friends. Only usually, when you talk with your friends, you're not secretly hoping they'll jump you and shag you senseless.

But like I said, it was good. Like it was before. Friendly, relaxed. Nice. So I decided to give up the fight and just be his friend. That lasted all of, well, 24 hours? My powers of self-control amaze me. I can't help but snort.

So… what to do? To give in is the beginning of the end. It would just be a matter of time before I would give in again, and again… And the more I give in, the greater the chance that I will be found out. I know all that. But the thought of not going to him… It feels like all my dreams are being yanked away from me. To not go to him, when I have the chance? To not let him hold me, kiss me, fuck me? I've made my choice. And with a shiver of anticipation, I go to him.

~s~c~

Everyone who has left me a review on this story, thank you so very very much! And yes, I would still like more. I'm greedy like that :-P