EastEnders 1. Chapter 1

A/N: So our boys have been kidnapped by alien writers, but we can see in the great acting that their love remains true. This is my little version of keeping the faith. It'll be M for implication (and possible a bit of language), and light and happy throughout.

Reviews are love, please know I really appreciate them even if I'm really bad and get back to them really slowly.

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Prologue - Wednesday afternoon.

Christian presses small open-mouthed kisses against Syed's torso, framing the triangle of afternoon light that seeps through their blinds. Syed's hands play idly with the hair at the nape of Christian's neck. They capture the lazy Sunday afternoon in bed, sometimes Syed feels like this is how they spend every one of these days.

"Do you think we have a lot of sex?" Syed asks and enjoys the way he can feel Christian's lips pull into a smile against his stomach.

"We don't have nearly enough."

"Really?" Syed chuckles. "When else would you suggest we have it?"

The last few months, after everything settled into their love, Christian had been insatiable. Syed was amazed at the number of contented hours Christian could spend investigating every inch of his, probably rather ordinary looking, body. He was also surprised that, even after all these years, Christian was yet to fail to make his body respond so strongly his mind almost ripped in two .

Syed occasionally thought they should try other activities, take up a hobby, like art films, or scrabble, or hiking, just so they spent some time talking with clothes on. But if Christian wasn't perfecting his french accent designed to send that hot thrill straight to Syed's cock, or spelling come-ons with plastic letters, he was wearing those shorts and vests and Syed would wonder what good clothes were in the first place. Especially those damn tight ones that Christian chose to wear!

Eventually Syed had tried to install some regular pub time with different friends, until Christian had found the small sweet spot on his body that was accessible in public. It was the only sweet spot that Christian had left to find and so he had finally relented, barely making it through their flat before he did so.

Christian slides his hand up Syed's right calf, headed for just the right spot, as his tongue draws up the inside of Syed's left thigh. He smiles as he watches the other man's cock draw a valiant effort at becoming hard - despite the powerful orgasm still echoing between them.

Eventually, he places a resigned small kiss on the base of Syed's cock before trailing the rest of the patterns the sun draws on his loves golden torso.

"Hmmmm, where else?" Christian breathes against Syed's skin, "We could have it on the breakfast table, we definitely don't have enough morning shower sex, Or instead of watching you when you sleep…"

Syed's eyes shine golden, remembering how Christian had watched him from the very first night they spent together.

The first time he awoke to find Christian's intense gaze focused solely on him there were three instantaneous reactions: the impossibly quick rush of his blood pumping in only one direction; the wild flood of panic to his confusion; and a small but distinct, and hard-to-forget, rising of his heart.

Then when Syed made the choice, making home in the world that had seemed like their hopeless fantasy, he knew Christian spent most nights watching him. He knew, but he never said, because he could feel the heartbreaking fear in Christian's green gaze. Then one night, the following year, Syed had felt Christian's eyes mapping over him with no fear at all, only the purest love - finally able to trust with all his heart that he would never leave again.

That silent fear and hidden mistrust all seems like so long ago now that their love belongs to forever. Syed has no idea that Christian still watches him and the confession cues his heart to race with bliss. He knows he's blessed that even after all the years: the promises made and cherished, he can still wake up to find his skin bathed in Christian's loving gaze.

Tempting the slow fuel of desire between them Christian fixes Syed with a look - darkened eyes hooded, kiss-swollen bottom lip trapped between teeth, the image of pure lust.

"I could wake you up by fucking you."

"Get that thought out of your head, you are not waking me up in the middle of the night!"

"Oh come on it's really good…" Christian's eyes shine like tempting emeralds. "You're completely relaxed and it's so deep like we're a part of each other…"

"I remember," Syed nods, lips pursing prudishly but eyes painting darkened images of heat and desire, and Christian's wicked grin burns like fire.

"Thought you would."

"It's not happening."

Ignoring Christian's resulting pout, Syed asks, "you watch me?"

Christian slides a wayward strand of hair from his love's eyes, looking deep in his golden world. He's amazed that even whilst basking in the years of their soul-spent love Syed could still be surprised at how much he cares for him. At the beginning of their honesty Christian had been petrified of how much he could love, of the bliss that could travel through him just by having the boy close. He had felt too weak and too with fault for the life they were beginning to share. With damaged memories and a scarred heart he could barely sleep for fear of waking up without, and engaged in really stupid acts - like mistaking the mosque for a cinema. But the miles he walked and all the actions he ever did were purely for the man that Syed was, and the man he made Christian want to become. And over the months that Syed had stayed and loved him Christian had fallen head over heals for their life together. He still undertook every action purely for Syed, they were just wiser ones, on the whole.

But of course he would never say anything nearly that love sick.

"I mean, still?"

Even if he knows Syed could read it in his eyes.

"Yep, you still snore!"

Syed hears the love in Christian's voice and leans up for their kiss.

Syed traces pure love through the movements of his mouth. Kissing with all that he is, in the way he thought he'd never know, until there was Christian.

When their lips part their eyes create a lasting hold.

"You big softy," Syed mocks as his heart secretly swelled.

Christian places an arm around Syed's shoulders, turning them around so Syed lay above him, and pulling Syed against his chest in their usual position.

Syed places his hand against Christian's, watching the shine from their shared rings.

He sighs, "I do think an average of twenty times a week is a lot for a married couple."

"What's this about?" Christian asks now suspicious and fearing board games, as his hands play through soft strands of ebony.

"It's Ramadan next month."

"And?"

"It just….it means no afternoon nookie."

Christian smirks, linking his leg over Syed's thighs to push him back into the bed - trapping him.

"Syed Masood if I didn't know you any better I'd say you were disappointed!"

"Course not." He insists, but unable to avoid the intense gaze of his partner adds, "I just thought that _you_ might be, you need more sex than I do."

Christian chokes at those words spoken like an apparent fact.

"Excuse me? I…need…more sex…than…"

"-It's nothing to be ashamed of, it's just we're built differently that's all."

"Oh is that how it is?"

Christian presses his hand flat against his lover's torso, tracing downward, determined to prove the utter bullshit in Syed's words. As his fingers near Syed's awakening need he lets a beautiful image consume them both.

"And who was it who seduced who at the wedding reception?" Christian leans forward, holding his mouth just above Syed's, tempting the kiss. "Pulled the other into the broom cupboard because they couldn't wait for the wedding night?"

"That was _different,_" Syed keens, tilting his hips as his body heats.

"Yeah sure was" Christian speaks fondly, "you ripped my shirt!"

"You'd been making eyes at me all day."

"I was marrying you! Who would you like me to be making eyes at?…Plus you looked fucking incredible…you almost had _everyone_ making eyes at you, I'm sure you would have done if you hadn't been marrying such a sex god!"

Syed opens his mouth to fulfil his matrimonial duty of hampering Christian's arrogance. But it's at that very moment that Christian's hand cups around his rapidly swelling cock and the words that actually come out are more like a whimper.

Christian's deep green world connects with Syed's, rushing desire throughout him. His thumb maps over the head of Syed's cock as his long fingers seek down his length. "So erm, who was it who needed sex?"

Syed, never one to be outdone, uses all his weight and the element of surprise to roll the bigger man around. Their mouths crash together and Syed takes control of the kiss, using his tongue to draw that long carnal moan from his lover's lips. The noise he knew had made many previous men hot with memories, the noise that now and forever belonged only to him.

With his proof echoing from their walls Syed pulls away, his world sparkling.

"You cannot say I need more sex than the infamous Christian Clarke!"

"Less of the infamous these days."

"Yeah that's just cos you've gotten …married-"

"-What?"

"Married! I said married!" Syed can barely hide the laugh struggling against his lips.

"You were so going to say old!" Christian says as he wrestles Syed around, pressing a tickle against his hips.

"Nope!" Syed gasps through laughter, "I was definitely going to say married!"

"I am not old!"

"Absolutely! You're only what? Fifty?"

At the wit Christian sucks sulkily at the skin on Syed's shoulder, "OK, sorry, I'm sorry! Forty-two's much younger."

Christian huffs as he fixes Syed with a dissatisfied look.

"Surely if I am so old I should stop being obsessed with sex?"

"I know, I keep thinking the same thing!"

Christian folds his arms across his chest in mock injury as he rolls to the edge of the bed. Syed's eyes flash the width of his lover, he still couldn't understand how such a big strong man could sometimes look so childish. He was also slightly in awe of how wonderful Christian could look, even with a couple of unspeakable greys.

Syed presses his chin against Christian's bicep, searching and fighting for eye contact.

When Christian finally relents he raises an eyebrow.

"Hey it's OK you still look great…you know for your age!" Syed giggles.

"Right that's it! Cheeky git!" Christian growls, grabbing the pillow from behind Syed's head and preceding to whip the grin of misbehaviour of his love's face.

"You sure you want to start this?" Syed asks, preparing himself with Christian's pillow. "You know how tired you get!"

"Oh you are so in for it!"

Pillow whacks lead to unbearable laughter and, when they can barely see, Christian traps Syed's hands above his head. Syed lets the pillow fall from his grasp and he wraps his legs around Christian's hips, pulling him closer.

"You know, you're not so old that you don't leave me…completely satisfied," Syed drawls, the last two words whispered between their hearts.

At the intimacy Christian flings himself on top of Syed, pressing their bodies together "That's cos you married a stud!" He winks.

Christian tightens his hold on Syed, kissing him dramatically. Exploring the inside of Syed's bottom lip, sucking at his tongue, employing all the ways he had perfected to rob him of oxygen.

"You know, we could test this theory," Christian poses as he pulls away "see who really is more desperate for sex."

As Syed's body copes with the pooling lust, his mind rushes to catch up with Christian's words.

"A week?" He asks before he realises that he's moved his mouth.

"We've got to at least make it interesting! Two weeks!" Christian insists.

He swiftly wishes he had the ability to shut up, as Syed's hips tilt over a pillow, changing his posture, uniting their desire.

"Two weeks…fine by me." Syed nods, already wondering how on earth he was supposed to get through this, in the heat of summer, when Christian insisted on sleeping naked.

"No touching…no kissing…" with each word from Christian's lips Syed's mind teases him with a montage of images and his lips tighten over a moan.

"…and definitely no sex. For two whole weeks. Sure you can do it?" Christian winks and Syed knows he has to win this to avoid the unbearable levels of arrogance.

"It's you I'm worried about!"

"It's a deal then, and the looser has to do whatever the winner wants for an entire Sunday."

"_Whatever_ he wants?" Syed asks cocking an eyebrow, knowing at least one activity Christian really hated.

"As long as it doesn't involve scrabble!"


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I'm so sorry it's been five weeks! I'm hoping that because this fic is not exactly plot-led you can forgive me? Please?

I've decided that each chapter is going to have a flashback, just to sauce things up a bit, so do expect some usual Mercurial M.

I post for reviews, they are love, so please know I really appreciate them and they do actually make me write and post quicker (honestly!)

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Chapter One: Third day, Wednesday afternoon, Christian POV

From across the dinner table the dark promises in his eyes catch mine with secrets that are shared only between our hearts. I watch the slow seductive movement of his spoon through those thick dark lips, my own lips part for their need of oxygen and I know he can feel the moan I barely stifle. His foot, which has been rested against my calf for heart-trembling minutes, makes a slow steady path further up my leg, across my thigh, and my fingers tremble on the glass of wine.

"So, you coming?" Afia's voice asks Syed, breaking our moment.

I watch the secret pull of his lips. He tilts his head, His fringe falls over his eyes, but I can still see their dark shine, the innocent mask not quite in place His foot falls from my leg hidden by the long linen table cloth. Quickly he steps into role, the perfect, innocent, brother.

"Sorry?"

"Tam's finally agreed to dance, I reckon it should be a whole group thing!"

His laugh feeds directly to my desperate cock.

"Sorry maybe later, anyway no-one can beat Tambo's robot! I'll be just a sec."

His lips crash against mine, as my body is yet again slammed up against our heat. I fucking love today! Our tongues crash and battle, as my fingers scrape long locks of hair from his face.

"Uh you taste amazing," his mouth barely severs from mine to moan the benediction. And my lips pull tightly into a knowing smile, as I slide the toilet lock across.

His lips drop from mine, and I watch his eyes grow darker in realisation of our surroundings.

"We really need to stop doing this!"

"Why?" I whisper keeping my voice as low as I know he needs, "it's our day, and we can to spend it however we want to spend it."

I quickly pop the zip on his fly, my hand finding more than enough to keep me occupied. His head tilts back, that long neck arcs to my eyes delight. I take the flutter of his pulse point between my teeth.

"And I want to spend it making you come."

"Christian!" He moans quiet enough not to arouse suspicion but harsh enough that it echoes hard inside my lust. And then I feel his fingers work my zip, close around my desperate cock. It takes a couple of touches from his insanely hesitant hands and I'm panting as hard as him. Rushes of oxygen shared between our quivering lips.

"God Sy I am so close, I can't cope with that fucking innocent act you pull!"

There's that crooked smile, and then that mask falls over his features, innocent despite the flames that flicker in his eyes.

"What act?"

The look, that fucking look, rattles through me, sensitising all I am to him, causing that flicker of climax to tense around every cell.

"You know exactly what act, the teasing under the table when I can still feel you from before. How can I forget how hard you came when your foots running against my leg?"

"Oh that was your leg?" He teases and I allow a minuet laugh before I turn it into a whimper with a trail of a touch against a tightening ball.

"Maybe I don't want you to forget," he whispers and with my chest tight against his I feel the breath he misses.

"I won't, not ever, I promise." I twist his oath in licentiousness and see his eyes shimmer the way they did when our forever was finally sworn.

Inside our fire his lips search for mine. The kiss is messy and breathless, I absorb each whimper from his mouth as he traps every one of my moans. Our hands work quickly in wicked synchrony as we draw the patterns of knowledge on each other. We reach climax together.

With my heart thrashing against his, and his breath cool on my heated skin, I wish I knew the words to say that would fix this moment as perfection. I wish I knew how to speak the poetry he is. But all I can do is tell him the simple truth.

"I love you"

His smile is my world, "and I love you, husband."

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I have never know him the way he was on our wedding day. His foot's explorative map of my thigh under the dinner table, the desperate pull and hungry moments of secret bliss in a broom cupboard, and a locked bathroom stall. And the ongoing, inexorable, inescapable pulse and tremor of the night. We loved, explored, hungered, climaxed in every which way.

I will always remember our first kiss as partners. Our hearts were finally united in eternity and there was a burst of applause, and Roxy's wolf whistles. But as he turned to me, there was only him. Through his smile he gave me the sun and lost me in him. I followed his lead, as I promised I would, knowing that my preferred dip and snog of passion would not be his taste. The tremble of a hand on the back of my neck felt like perfection, and as his lips touched mine I was complete. In reality it was one delicate brush of lip on lip. In fact it lasts an eternity. It is home.

I feel the rise of hair on my arms, the goosebumps of chemistry - he is finally out of the changing room.

Quickly my eyes scan for his presence, the crowded open air swimming pool, lovers playing, families picknicking, children paddling, and him, my beautiful Syed.

The skim of my eyes is fast in the deprivation of five minutes causation. I gather, and remember, the sight of every cell. As I watch a trail of water rushes down his face, darkens his gorgeous hair, skims over his closed eyelids, glides over lips, and down a long neck to a perfect torso. His beauty is the sort that people want to capture in words or art; with my hungry eyes I memorise him - he is everyone's fantasy but my reality. His muscles flex and tense bewitchingly, as if he could ever be aware of the power he holds, as if his self depreciating mind would ever allow him to remark at his wonder. When my mind is aware of every inch of him, and my heart is cantering over the valleys and plains of his skin, I move my gaze slower, allowing my eyes to pause over the delicate muscles, the jut of gorgeous hips, the almost imperceptible rush of heartbeat and tense of his abs. My gaze flicks over the dark stretched material that keeps me greedy, the outline of my desire. My lip traps behind my teeth and I practically taste him. I don't know what I talked myself into, we are no more than three days into our stupid bet and I physically ache for him. My mind is plagued with him, at work, at dinner with Roxy, in dreams, the only thing I can think of is us, is him. The way that he has released to me, in every way that he ever has. My purpose is to bring him pleasure, and I have to be deprived of that kind for eleven more days. These are not the most exciting chains he's ever had me in.

Suddenly I feel the call of his gaze, and my eyes reach his as they always will, my body is little but his slave. His eyes darken in a warning, and my eyebrows lift to return a question - how can he expect me to feel any less when I know every inch of him? I definitely have a new fetish, one owned only by him - swimming pools! And I have no idea why I agreed to come here, when all I can see is the stretched material of his swim shorts, all I can remember is the way his body glides through the water, and all I can taste is the salt of his skin after he has been swimming. Lying back in the inflatable armchair, I push my sunglasses up my nose and conceed to the benediction of memories. I am a fool and they are all I am going to have to ease my desperate body.

His mouth was the first thing I ever noticed about him. When we met properly and were introduced as colleagues, there was a secret twitch in those tight lips - a barely noticeable sign. It stole my dreams and cursed my thoughts until he bent to kiss me, and I tasted the essence of the truth of him. The dark smooth curves of skin were everything I could think about even when they were posed at me with mistrust and forced denial.

Eventually came that smile, the one that makes the sun shine through his eyes. The one that is still our secret. Slower still came the tease. It was with his kiss that he first taunted. Framed in trust and our special brand of happiness his mouth learned to hunger mine. It was a tempted promise of a kiss - a rush of stubble, a bending, arcing trace of his lips over mine. It was a torturous game of predator and pray as he knew he would have me forever.

Suddenly a splash of cold water against my heated torso drops me in reality, and the sweet tone of his laugh wraps me up in the completing presence of him. His smile is beaming as his fingers grip the blue plastic of my armchair, threatening my position of safety away from the water.

"Get in the water!" He mocks, as he rocks the chair from side to side.

"Babe the sunglasses!" I say uncertain whether to grip the Armani closer to my head, or hold my stability in the float.

"You are such a poser! Who wears sunglasses in a swimming pool?"

"Your husband."

And then I watch bewitched as the laugh fades to an almost imperceptible sigh of happiness that parts his dark lips open. Because of our past, the hiding and the running, I know he will always hold the label in worship. Impulsively, on the tie that binds us I am pulled closer to him. What I wouldn't do for just one kiss. But just as I near him he grins mischievously.

"So easy," he winks before pushing one more time against the float, and as I'm already off balance I hit the water with a thud.

I scrabble for air, as my fingers grip desperately against the designer glasses. When I finally emerge he stands before me, with that smile that radiates his laugh across his features.

"Oh you are so in for it!" I laugh.

He swims away quickly but I chase in hot pursuit, grabbing at the flashes of water by his ankles. At the shallow end he stands up against the concrete, and I swim up so I'm no more than a breathes distance away from him as I surface. That was a mistake. There is only one word to describe him - heavenly. With his dark fringe smoothed against his forehead. Those dark eyes sparkling. And that mouth, God that mouth. Parted for a laugh of happiness, little buds of water lingering against his lips. The last time we were here, right here in this spot, there was only one other couple around. He barely resisted before I kissed him, hard and passionately. His fingers trailed underneath my swim shorts as he pulled me closer with a demand for more. I could feel his desire harden against me, I could have taken him right here. God and when we got home, it took barely a minute of that hot warm slide against my cock, and those lips stretched around me before I gave everything to him.

"Alright?" he breathes pulling me back to the moment. And that look in his eyes beams, telling me he knows exactly what I'm thinking of. There's a flash of that hot warm tongue wetting his lips, he knows exactly what I'm dying to do. He knows he's winning. God it was a stupid bet anyway. I've made it three days deprived from sex with my husband, that almost equates to torture! I anchor my arms against the side, covering him with my body and stepping closer to him, ready to forfeit the dare.

"Daddy!" I barely register a little girls scream of delight before Syed's hand slams up against my chest winding me, and I feel the cold eyes of that woman.

"Look Mummy, Daddy and his friend are here!" Yasmin coos with delight. She kisses Sy's cheek before she sits down on the side and starts to plat his hair in places.

"I'm going to make you look like a princess," she whispers - it would help me if she wasn't so adorable.

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"Thought I'd make bolognaise."

"My favourite." He beams at me from the sofa. His hands curved against the chair's back, his chin rested, his smile relaxed and happy. I can't believe I ever underestimated the power of marriage. Times like this when we're at home, just me and him, and I know he's happy just to be here with me, they're pure joy.

"You're not too pissed off then?"

"Why would I be pissed off?" I ask grabbing the ingredients from the fridge.

"It wasn't quite the afternoon we had planned."

"It doesn't matter, Yasmin's really cute,"

"Yeah she is." He smiles fondly, and starts pulling at the plats Yasmin demanded he left in his hair.

"And I like seeing you together, she makes you happy."

"She's not the only one."

His words of love shimmer over me, causing my heart to beam. But God do I want to kiss him even more now. I shake my head at him, before blowing him a kiss, the closest he's going to make me go. I turn back to the chopping board, focusing on the carrots.

"As fun as it was to go swimming with my daughter, there were other reasons why I suggested _we_ went there today."

It takes a second, and I question the words I heard, but as I turn around to see the look in his eyes and pull of his grin I know exactly what he meant.

"You cheat!" I laugh pointing a carrot at him.


End file.

EastEnders, Humor, Romance