Fic: Lean On Me
Title: Lean On Me
Fandom: Eastenders
Rating: PG
Characters: Christian/Syed
Word Count: 1,160
Spoilers: Up to and including Friday 10th September.
Disclaimer: Alas, I don’t own Eastenders, Christian or Syed.
Authors Notes: Thank you to etmuse for the beta and the eternal encouragement.
Summary: It’s a week after the fire, and Christian can’t stop thinking about the way things might have been.
Lean On Me
Syed places the freshly dried wooden stirring spoon back in the cutlery drawer and surveys the kitchen once more - the only evidence that he’s even set foot in the kitchen is the pan of curry cooling on the hob and the smell of coriander and spices clinging to his shirt.
Just in time, too, as Christian’s key is rattling around in the door lock. He wipes his hands on the tea towel he is still holding as he walks through to the living room.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” Christian sighs in reply, dropping his key onto the table next to the door and leaning wearily against the wall next to the dining table.
“How’s Roxy?” Christian gives him a disbelieving look. “Sorry, stupid question.” Syed drops the tea towel onto the nearest table before walking over to Christian. “Hey,” Syed repeats, kissing Christian gently and wrapping his arms around Christian’s waist. “Are you okay?”
Christian doesn’t answer, he just buries his face in Syed’s hair and wraps his arms tightly around Syed’s back. Syed hasn’t seen much of Christian since the fire, not that he minds too much - he’s got Tam to keep him company and Roxy needs Christian more at the moment. Christian always comes back exhausted and emotionally drained, but this is the worst Syed has seen him since the fire ravaged The Vic.
It soon becomes apparent that Christian is really not all right - he is shaking and Syed’s hair is becoming suspiciously damp. He leads them over to the settee, making sure to never break contact with Christian, be it just a hand on Christian’s shoulder or arm as they settle comfortably on the sofa. Syed squirms until he is finally comfortable, his legs stretched out on the cushions, with Christian lying almost fully on top of him, his head and one arm resting on Syed’s chest. Syed rescues his arm that is in danger of becoming trapped between Christian and the sofa and moves it so his hand is now free to play with Christian’s short hair, leaving the other to run up and down Christian’s back in a soothing motion.
“I’m a crap mate.”
“What?” Of all the things Syed was expecting Christian to say, ‘I’m a crap mate’ isn’t even in the top 20 - top 50 even. “What are you on about?”
“Roxy’s heartbroken - her whole family is falling apart, Peggy’s gone, and all I can think every time I walk past The Vic is ‘Thank God. Thank God you got out.’” Christian’s hand stills where it is playing with one of the buttons on Syed’s shirt. “I can’t stop thinking about it - what if Zainab hadn’t found you and pulled you out? What if you’d been trampled? What if something had fallen on you and trapped you?” Christian lifts his head and reaches up to run his hand gently along the deep scratch on Syed’s head. “What if I’d lost you, just when we’re finally happy?”
Syed closes his eyes and turns his head, pressing a light kiss to Christian’s hand, which is now cupping his cheek.
“Is this why you’ve not been sleeping?” Christian looks at him in surprise. “You’ve been tossing and turning all week.”
Christian drops his head, but Syed places two fingers under his chin, forcing Christian to meet his gaze. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to keep you up too.”
“It’s okay,” Syed says, moving his hand so it rests on the back of Christian’s neck. “I’ve not been sleeping much, anyway.”
“I...” Christian takes a deep breath before continuing in a quiet voice. “Every time I close my eyes we’re back outside The Vic. I can hear Roxy screaming and people crying, but all I can see is you bleeding.” Christian trails a finger down Syed’s face, following a phantom trail of blood. Syed catches his hand and presses it to his heart, so Christian can feel the steady thump-thump-thump.
“I’m here. I’m okay - we’re both okay.” Syed leans down to kiss Christian, his free hand gripping Christian’s hair and pulling him into the kiss, reassuring Christian with actions as well as words.
“I love you,” Christian says, breaking the kiss and resting his forehead against Syed’s.
Syed replies with a chaste kiss. “I love you too.”
Christian settles himself once more on Syed’s chest, and Syed’s hand once again resumes its reassuring stroking of Christian’s hair. He knows they’ll have to move eventually, they need to eat - regardless of the little appetite they’ve both had lately - and a hot, relaxing shower will probably do them both some good. But Syed is comfortable, and if the way Christian is picking at some tomato juice, which has splashed and congealed on Syed’s shirt, is anything to go by, Syed is happy to assume that Christian has no desire to move any time soon, either.
Suddenly, Christian stops picking at the stain and runs his finger across it. Syed knows that Christian has realised what the stain is, and what it means.
“Have you been cooking? You’re supposed to be taking it easy! What if-“
“Christian! I’m fine. I’m still here.” Syed cups Christian’s face with both of his hands and kisses Christian again. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Suddenly Christian’s hands are in Syed’s hair and his lips are on Syed’s, as if Christian is determined to prove to himself once and for all that Syed is still here - that they’ve both escaped from the blast relatively unscathed.
“Come on,” Syed says as Christian’s rumbling stomach effectively ruins the moment. “Food first, then a hot shower and bed.”
Christian sighs before starting to move. “Okay, I’ll go sort out dinner. I think there’s some rice left - oomph.” Syed pulls Christian back down onto the settee and turns so they are both lying on their sides, their legs entangled.
“Let me look after you tonight?” Syed asks, running his hand through Christian’s hair. “You’ve always been the one to look after me - after I left home, every time I bump into my parents, after the fire.” Syed can see Christian’s eyes trailing down his face, once again seeing the slow trickle of blood that had dripped from his head-wound as they sat outside the blazing Vic.
“You don’t always have to be the strong one,” Syed says before kissing Christian gently. “Let me take care of you.”
“I don’t deserve you,” Christian mutters, burying his head in Syed’s shoulder.
“No you don’t - you deserve much better.” Christian raises his head and opens his mouth to argue, but is halted by Syed pressing his thumb to Christian’s lips. “How about we argue about which of us is the least deserving tomorrow?”
Christian nods his head and buries his head in Syed’s shoulder once again. “Do we have to eat right now?”
“No,” Syed replies, feeling far too comfortable and content to listen to his own empty stomach. “No, we’ll move in a minute. Let’s just stay here for now.”
Comments are loved and appreciated. &hearts
Fandom: Eastenders
Rating: PG
Characters: Christian/Syed
Word Count: 1,160
Spoilers: Up to and including Friday 10th September.
Disclaimer: Alas, I don’t own Eastenders, Christian or Syed.
Authors Notes: Thank you to etmuse for the beta and the eternal encouragement.
Summary: It’s a week after the fire, and Christian can’t stop thinking about the way things might have been.
Lean On Me
Syed places the freshly dried wooden stirring spoon back in the cutlery drawer and surveys the kitchen once more - the only evidence that he’s even set foot in the kitchen is the pan of curry cooling on the hob and the smell of coriander and spices clinging to his shirt.
Just in time, too, as Christian’s key is rattling around in the door lock. He wipes his hands on the tea towel he is still holding as he walks through to the living room.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” Christian sighs in reply, dropping his key onto the table next to the door and leaning wearily against the wall next to the dining table.
“How’s Roxy?” Christian gives him a disbelieving look. “Sorry, stupid question.” Syed drops the tea towel onto the nearest table before walking over to Christian. “Hey,” Syed repeats, kissing Christian gently and wrapping his arms around Christian’s waist. “Are you okay?”
Christian doesn’t answer, he just buries his face in Syed’s hair and wraps his arms tightly around Syed’s back. Syed hasn’t seen much of Christian since the fire, not that he minds too much - he’s got Tam to keep him company and Roxy needs Christian more at the moment. Christian always comes back exhausted and emotionally drained, but this is the worst Syed has seen him since the fire ravaged The Vic.
It soon becomes apparent that Christian is really not all right - he is shaking and Syed’s hair is becoming suspiciously damp. He leads them over to the settee, making sure to never break contact with Christian, be it just a hand on Christian’s shoulder or arm as they settle comfortably on the sofa. Syed squirms until he is finally comfortable, his legs stretched out on the cushions, with Christian lying almost fully on top of him, his head and one arm resting on Syed’s chest. Syed rescues his arm that is in danger of becoming trapped between Christian and the sofa and moves it so his hand is now free to play with Christian’s short hair, leaving the other to run up and down Christian’s back in a soothing motion.
“I’m a crap mate.”
“What?” Of all the things Syed was expecting Christian to say, ‘I’m a crap mate’ isn’t even in the top 20 - top 50 even. “What are you on about?”
“Roxy’s heartbroken - her whole family is falling apart, Peggy’s gone, and all I can think every time I walk past The Vic is ‘Thank God. Thank God you got out.’” Christian’s hand stills where it is playing with one of the buttons on Syed’s shirt. “I can’t stop thinking about it - what if Zainab hadn’t found you and pulled you out? What if you’d been trampled? What if something had fallen on you and trapped you?” Christian lifts his head and reaches up to run his hand gently along the deep scratch on Syed’s head. “What if I’d lost you, just when we’re finally happy?”
Syed closes his eyes and turns his head, pressing a light kiss to Christian’s hand, which is now cupping his cheek.
“Is this why you’ve not been sleeping?” Christian looks at him in surprise. “You’ve been tossing and turning all week.”
Christian drops his head, but Syed places two fingers under his chin, forcing Christian to meet his gaze. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to keep you up too.”
“It’s okay,” Syed says, moving his hand so it rests on the back of Christian’s neck. “I’ve not been sleeping much, anyway.”
“I...” Christian takes a deep breath before continuing in a quiet voice. “Every time I close my eyes we’re back outside The Vic. I can hear Roxy screaming and people crying, but all I can see is you bleeding.” Christian trails a finger down Syed’s face, following a phantom trail of blood. Syed catches his hand and presses it to his heart, so Christian can feel the steady thump-thump-thump.
“I’m here. I’m okay - we’re both okay.” Syed leans down to kiss Christian, his free hand gripping Christian’s hair and pulling him into the kiss, reassuring Christian with actions as well as words.
“I love you,” Christian says, breaking the kiss and resting his forehead against Syed’s.
Syed replies with a chaste kiss. “I love you too.”
Christian settles himself once more on Syed’s chest, and Syed’s hand once again resumes its reassuring stroking of Christian’s hair. He knows they’ll have to move eventually, they need to eat - regardless of the little appetite they’ve both had lately - and a hot, relaxing shower will probably do them both some good. But Syed is comfortable, and if the way Christian is picking at some tomato juice, which has splashed and congealed on Syed’s shirt, is anything to go by, Syed is happy to assume that Christian has no desire to move any time soon, either.
Suddenly, Christian stops picking at the stain and runs his finger across it. Syed knows that Christian has realised what the stain is, and what it means.
“Have you been cooking? You’re supposed to be taking it easy! What if-“
“Christian! I’m fine. I’m still here.” Syed cups Christian’s face with both of his hands and kisses Christian again. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Suddenly Christian’s hands are in Syed’s hair and his lips are on Syed’s, as if Christian is determined to prove to himself once and for all that Syed is still here - that they’ve both escaped from the blast relatively unscathed.
“Come on,” Syed says as Christian’s rumbling stomach effectively ruins the moment. “Food first, then a hot shower and bed.”
Christian sighs before starting to move. “Okay, I’ll go sort out dinner. I think there’s some rice left - oomph.” Syed pulls Christian back down onto the settee and turns so they are both lying on their sides, their legs entangled.
“Let me look after you tonight?” Syed asks, running his hand through Christian’s hair. “You’ve always been the one to look after me - after I left home, every time I bump into my parents, after the fire.” Syed can see Christian’s eyes trailing down his face, once again seeing the slow trickle of blood that had dripped from his head-wound as they sat outside the blazing Vic.
“You don’t always have to be the strong one,” Syed says before kissing Christian gently. “Let me take care of you.”
“I don’t deserve you,” Christian mutters, burying his head in Syed’s shoulder.
“No you don’t - you deserve much better.” Christian raises his head and opens his mouth to argue, but is halted by Syed pressing his thumb to Christian’s lips. “How about we argue about which of us is the least deserving tomorrow?”
Christian nods his head and buries his head in Syed’s shoulder once again. “Do we have to eat right now?”
“No,” Syed replies, feeling far too comfortable and content to listen to his own empty stomach. “No, we’ll move in a minute. Let’s just stay here for now.”
Comments are loved and appreciated. &hearts