That's what happened when you lived in the basement of a very tiny house with three other members of the Twelve. At least Judas was a little better off than Peter smushed in above him. It was certainly not as fancy as the apartment that Simon lived in or as welcoming as the quiet little home JC lived in with his mother, but it was better than the squats that Judas used to sleep in.

Anything was better than those.

JC removed his long black coat and hung it on the back of the door on the hook that Judas seemed to forget actually existed because he never used it. His scarf followed, and he left his big black boots by the door too. As Judas kicked around a path to walk to a bed that JC had been in many times before, the dark haired and dark eyes man began to unbutton his shirt. He didn't have the tattoos that Judas said he wanted. He didn't have track marks or scars.

But he was still lovely beneath the white.