forallyoucare | (no subject)

(no subject)

JC wasn’t sure when the voices started. They popped up here or there in his childhood, usually egging him on to do something dangerous. His mum use to say that he was playing with an imaginary friend, but the voice was never a solid thing to run down to the corner shop with or to throw sticks in the river with when the other boys in the neighborhood thought he was too weird or creepy to hang around with. The voice never stuck around either so JC couldn’t exactly blame it. And he sounded mad when he did.

After a rather detrimental and insistent period in his teenage years, culminating in one very big adventure that nearly gave his parents a heart attack when the voice demanded that he go all the way to the city for a few days without telling anyone, it disappeared for a long, long time.

But that sweet, familiar persistence came back again one afternoon where they were just leaving a coffee house after a small after-concert rally with the Twelve, or while he was showing Andrew a cat video that one of their online supporters tweeted him, or when he was by himself in the woods looking up at the sun through the sky-- He didn’t know when it started but it was back again and it was itching at his skull like sand stuck behind his eyes.

All he knew was that they needed to start reaching more people. Facebook and Twitter were fine. Tumblr worked. The new Youtube channel seemed to be doing all right but the coffee shops in small towns around their home base? The venues were just too small. They needed to travel, together. All of them.

That’s when he went to Judas with his idea. Err…the voice’s idea. “What if we rented and RV and traveled? We could book gigs everywhere!”

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"Why? Do I look that bad?" Somewhat deflated hair, glasses instead of contacts, sweater under the leather jacket? He just wanted to be cozy to get to work today. Simon put the bag in his lap and went digging, not really looking up at Peter.

He grinned, fishing out the right bagel the first time. He still sniffed it to make sure it was the right one though.

"It wasn't too bad. Went to the old club, saw some people I haven't in awhile..." He handed over the bagel and eyeballed Peter appraisingly. "Should have asked if you wanted to come. Are you a club boy, Pete?"

"Uh," he didn't immediately take the bagel, then snapped himself out of it and looked a bit sheepish. "No, no. You look... good." Really good. Those glasses... he couldn't remember seeing them on Simon in the past and it messed with his head a little how good Simon actually looked in them. He busied himself opening up his bagel and taking a bit when the question came, making him pause hard. Had- Had Simon seen him last night? He lifted his head slowly, blinking.

"Uh," another brain fart. "I... went, a few times?" he offered not-helpfully.

"Really?" That was actually a little surprising and reassuring. So Peter wasn't entirely straight laced. That actually made him feel a little more relaxed and he settled his chin on the back of the chair. "Next Wednesday is industry night. Do you wanna come with me? JC only has that afternoon meeting at Beans, right?"

He rocked forward just a little, lifting the front legs off of the ground. Part of him was pretty sure that Peter would politely decline. But the other part of him? Oh God! Oh God he was having such incredible thoughts. Simon watched Peter's face, scrutinizing.

"I have a few connections. And I'll keep you safe from any handsy blokes." Yes. Blokes. Not women. Another test.

Peter's brows pinched but probably not for the reason Simon thought. After several seconds of combing through everything Simon had just suggested, Peter tilted his head, all too dog-like, and asked, "industry?" what did that even mean? "I'd like to go, though?" It meant a club and with Simon so sure, he was more than willing. The fact Simon was inviting him anywhere meant he would go for sure.

It didn't even register for him that Simon said 'handsy blokes'. After all, Simon's pictures had been with a... variety of people. Men and Women. So he just... assumed Simon preferred both.

Simon liked everyone. Some people were beer people. Some people liked red wine. Some white. Simon liked both. And maybe a little Merlot. Or some Sangria. Or some Chardonnay that used to be a pino. It was all fine. It was actually supposed to be a question to see if Peter would say if he preferred men to women. Just because judas said he looked at him like a puppy (and he did!) didn't mean he was interested in him sexually.

He watched Peter's confusion, though, and smiled. "Industry night is for people that work in the club industry. Bartenders and security and dancers. Things like that. Wednesday tends to be their nights off and they bring in temp staff to let them enjoy the scene."

Peter had already gotten an eye full from the balcony. But he would get more than that going with Simon, being in Simon's arm...

"If you get uncomfortable at all, just tap out. Okay? Some of the guys can be rough."

"Oh!" The confusion lifted and in its place came a bright smile. Wednesday nights? He tried to puzzle that out, but it didn't matter. Simon wanted to bring him along on his night off? Sure!

Wait. Can be rough? Rough in what way? There came the confusion all over again. "Ah... do you mean people are going to get.. handsy?" He wasn't so sure what to think about that. He'd gone to a club, once or twice, but no one touched him-- well someone had grabbed his butt but-- rough?

"Around the edges," Simon laughed suddenly. "I'm saying all the wrong things." Not that it made him look in any way embarrassed or willing to call it off. Simon had an easy way about him, mostly because he was shoving down all of the thoughts he'd been having since last night when Judas called Peter a puppy. And said he was into him.

He wasn't so sure yet. Peter just seemed to be polite and kind and really confused.

"Most people in the world know how to keep their hands to themselves, Pete. Some don't. They might be there but no one will touch you if you don't want them to. I'll look out for you." It was more than protectiveness.

He'd seen Peter first. Simon wasn't just going to serve him up to his friends.

"I'd like to go. If someone gets handsy... I'll slap their hands away." He grinned, but that innocence still shown through despite the fact he didn't want it to. Though he realized a bit of an issue and gestured a little towards Simon. "I don't know if I have the right kind of stuff to wear for one of these." After everything he saw last night (pushing that thought out of his mind immediately) he definitely knew he didn't. He hadn't matched at all.

"Maybe you could come over early and see if anything in my closet'll work? Or I could buy something?" The last thing he wanted to do was be an embarrassment to Simon by looking completely out of place. Would Simon invite anyone else or would he be lucky enough it was just them? How was he going to try and talk to Simon about any of this!? He never felt this nervous in his whole life... not even going into those clubs had been this nerve wracking!

"Dress to be comfortable." And here Peter said he'd been clubbing before! Did that just mean that he only said what he did to try and seem familiar for Simon? That was probably why he'd never heard of industry nights and why he didn't have the right sort of clothing. "It's not all fetish. It's not like you need to pour yourself into latex and leather."

Oh his mind was going to be running wild today. He busied himself looking for a bagel to take his mind off of how he wanted to zip Pete up into little leather shorts and boots. He needed to get his mind focused on chewing and not how sexy he was sure Peter would look.

"But yeah. I'll hop in when I come to get you. Most people just focus on black but I like your style, Pete. Plaids work for you."

Simon could be so full of himself. Someone could go clubbing a handful of times and never know this stuff or keep clothing just for clubbing, nevermind feel completely comfortable in picking something out for it. Peter, thanks to that, just stared at Simon for several seconds before he ended up blushing at the idea of wearing leather and latex, then promptly tried to put it out of his mind. Not exactly something he'd ever worn before!

"All-- alright. I'll do my best, then." He'd end up worrying about it, he knew it. Boots would be okay, jeans... he pieced through his inventory of clothing but it wasn't as if he was working with a ton of it. A black tee shirt and a plaid one over it? He had that slightly older tee shirt that was tight on him. That would probably work well.

"What time?" There was no way he wasn't going to be keyed up all day for this and he knew it.

"I'm flexible." Bed dropped Peter off at him around seven but that was entirely too early to go out. "Anywhere from ten to midnight? I'll come over round ten and help you figure out what to wear. And we can get a bite on the way. Shouldn't drink on an empty stomach." Dictating what Peter was going to wear was giving him the worst hard on and so Simon abandoned his split leg posture and stood up. "Cool. Settled then. Let me go give out the rest of these and then get to work. The bus won't build itself."

JC had since disappeared inside the bus, imagining what it could be. He already had the first round of lumber to deal with but now they could pick out fabrics and actually rebuild the kitchen and bathrooms properly, it was coming together. Was his date with Judas on his mind? Yes. He couldn't deny that, though he knew what he had gotten up to the night before.

He wondered, briefly, why that had happened. Why he couldn't have seen where it might go with him tonight. But it was true that he hadn't strayed. And he knew Judas and Simon had shared a bed before too. But JC was without guidance in this area. He thought about their bodies together only briefly and he knew that Simon did not stroke Judas' skin as softly as he had. And he knew that they had not spent the night together.

So that was all right. There was still a chance to be had for him. Sex wasn't love.

"Around ten, then!" What was even happening? How did things go from that last night to this?? Peter watched Simon walk away and gave a stupid little grin. Hr had a date with Simon! But... Was it a date? Or was it just a night out with one of the Twelve to Simon? Damn. His hopes were up again.

What happened with Simon couldn't be further from what he felt about JC if he tried. Judas woke up sore and a little hung over, proof how long it had been since his drug and drinking days, but there was no lingering affection, no issue they didn't wake up together. No strings. Hopefully Simon would get a clue about Peter and those two could make something work.

He did show up late. Really late. Luckily it was with their budget in hand and freshly showered and he threw himself in the work. By midday the shirt and coat were long good against the heat.

Construction came along rapidly. Framing the interior of the bus took time and effort but it was the more specialized areas that would take the most time. JC left most of the Twelve at the garage and headed down to the store with Bart to pick up lunch. He ended up giving s small, impromptu talk to the people gathered, mostly the young and the disenfranchised. They tweeted and other young workers from the area stopped over to listen and before long, JC had a following back to the bus.

That was nothing new. He'd been getting quite the following in the city and though it was small by most city standards, it had garnered him some local attention. It was enough that a few dozen YouTube videos sprang up about the bus and by the time JC finally managed to get everyone to disperse, they'd managed to find a plumber and an electrician willing to help at cost.

Three days in and what had once been a dream with lofty ideals was coming true.

JC hugged everyone goodbye, reminding them of the lecture tomorrow, and waited for Judas at the sliding chain link fence by the curb. His hands were in his pockets and the wind caught his hair as he rocked forward on his toes and back again on his heels. He was serene, inside and out. Tonight was his date. His first. The purchased date with Mary wouldn't be until they started on their trip and headed away from Nazerath. He felt good. The voice was leaving him alone. And he was so hopeful that he couldn't bother to be nervous.

And though judas had spent the day sweating in his labour, JC was somehow still fresh and clean. Go figure.

Everyone was super excited to see everything coming along so well. It would probably take right until JC's predicted date but they could do it with the extra help. The electrician said that the wiring was fairly shot but he could make it happen but the plumber said they just needed some replacements. With the specialty work done by hand, it meant the majority of the Twelve could help the poor as usual until their go date.

When everything was done, Judas felt a little sunburned, exhausted, sweaty, but good. Damn good. So he grinned when he saw JC and lit up a cigarette, grateful for it. "Hey!" How the hell did JC still look so perfect? "I need to grab a shower and get changed. Meet you in... an hour?" Enough time to walk home, do what was needed, and walk back.

"Just meet me at that little place around the corner from the Bean. I'll take the long way." It wasn't always so safe to go out at night anymore but Nazerath as a whole was still mostly a college town and the Romans weren't on every street corner like they were in Jerusalem. There would come a time, and soon, where that was likely to change, but JC was safe meandering around by himself in his crisp white button down and scarf that pretty much screamed he might have some money on him. The people here weren't desperate enough to resort to violence and mug him.

He did a little work at a soup kitchen, something he did from time to time when he was bored and the voice was leaving him alone, and then headed over to the restaurant. For a Monday night, it was pretty packed, but JC had spoken with the owner before at one of his lectures and he was shown immediately to a tiny rough hewn table in the back. He munched on some of the crackers and drank ice water while he waited for Judas, waving his hand at another couple who had been staring at him.

By the time Judas arrived, JC was taking selfies with some patrons. He never did know how to say no.

Why was he even vaguely surprised? Judas stood watching from the entrance way as people clamoured around JC who, in his favored white, stood out from the crowd. With a shake of his head and an amused expression, he headed in that direction, hands shoved into the pockets of his coat. No point in bothering everyone, and he only begrudgingly took pictures with anyone, and so he waited for JC to be done and the patrons to back away and go to their dinners.

Only then did he come from the shadows, chuckling. "Such a popular man," he teased gently, but in the back of his mind were the words Simon had said, the questions he asked. What did this date mean to JC? Did he want something more than friendship or was this his affirmation that he wasn't going anywhere?

If it would have been possible in the low light to see the look on JC's face or perhaps gauge the size of his pupils, perhaps Judas would know what was going on here. Perhaps not. Judas was blind when it came to right in front of his face, though that might be because he didn't want to see it. JC might not blame him for that.

His eyes did light up, however, when Judas arrived and he relaxed with a smile at his best friend. "I've been waiting for you," he stressed, as if to show this his gaze was now fixed forward instead of at any of those who still looked their way.

Judas looked as he always did, but then, so did JC. He hadn't even changed from that day. As Judas sat, JC lifted a hand to lightly touch the ginger beard on Judas' jaw line. The tables were so small they would even be touching knees.

"I like it when you use that soap."

Funny how Judas would have said the same thing - that JC was often blind to things right in front of his face. How JC didn't see the bigger picture and ended up with blinders on. But right now, he just was happy to see that familiar face, even leaned just a touch into JC's fingers before he sat down at the table, shifting to try and get comfortable.

"You can seriously smell that?" Judas raised an eyebrow before chuckling a little. "It's that stuff from the motel we stayed at a few months back." Oh yeah, he horded that sort of stuff. He propped up an elbow on the table, feeling his back complain slightly about the workout today.

"You always smell like that stuff your mother buys. That fancy homemade stuff." Someone nearby made it and Mary ended up bringing loads of it home, but it was... just a bit too girly for him.

There were so many spices in the air right now that it was hard to smell anything but JC was never one to shy away from the impossible. Being with Judas right now, smelling his clean his skin was and how warm his body was so close to him right now left him smiling. "There's not much about you that I don't pay attention to," he said, and coming from anyone else, thst might sound a little creepy. It was just normal, run of the mill conversation with JC though.

A waitress with a full sleeve came over to get their orders and JC went with chicken curry and a heaping side of rice. He waited until she left to again reach out to Judas, offering to take his hand.

"You shouldn't work so hard," he said kindly. "Not when you have a late night." Healing hands was just something charletons had, it was a hoax. No one had to power to ease hurt by touch alone without a degree in massage, but sometimes it was hard to stay a skeptic when JC had such an electric touch that immediately soothed aches and pain... Either from the night with Simon or the day on the bus.

Judas figured it had been when they were so close JC had picked up a whiff of it. He'd heard some of the others mutter about things JC seemed to do or weirdness, but Judas knew better. JC was JC. A normal guy in all but the sense of what he planned to do in the world and a heart that held so much more patience and kindness than the average human, but that sense was something worth believing in and that heart was something worth following. Judas wouldn't have called himself a skeptic (he might in time to come), just a realist.

With a shakshouka ordered, already dreaming about the flavour on his tongue, Judas let JC take his hand but did cast a look around. The touching thing was always just a little less acceptable in public where he knew others might construe what it meant. JC's words though brought a confused look, trying to figure out if JC meant tonight or it was a knock on his previous night. Given who he was talking to, he cautiously decided the former and shrugged. "We have a lot to get done to meet this three weeks you're so determined to meet up with." He flashed a grin. "Besides, one of us has to, huh?" It was definitely a tease in JC's direction but a small one.

Rubbing a small circle against the webbing between Judas' thumb and forefinger, JC paid little attention to any of the very closely packed couples that sat around them. They mattered so little to him in this moment, despite the love he had for all creation. His mind was focused wholly on just one person right now. Perhaps Judas would feel warmth moving down his arm to any part of him that was sore. Perhaps he would not. These things were touch and go at best when it came to this, but if he had healed that little boy he had shoved off of a roof when he was a child, surely he could heal a few aches and pains.

JC watched Judas' face, accepting the teasing for what it was. "You can leave the more grueling tasks to those with greater capacity for strength. I'll show you have to do some wood burning tomorrow. You can decorate the bench I've been constructing."

People couldn't heal with a touch. Judas didn't believe in any of that stuff. The world was the world and there was nothing magical about it. He wasn't... quiet... atheist but he might have said it for all practicality of how he acted about things. He'd lived through hell and back and no amount of prayer had brought him anything. Timing had brought JC into his live. Good luck, but he didn't have any of that back then. JC's compassion had been what saved him, not magic or a god or anything else like that. He wouldn't give anyone shit for their beliefs, but sometimes it felt... foolish. You had two hands, you did everything you could to bring yourself happiness with a little help from others along the way. Together, they could make miracles. People could.

"Well, at least the smoke won't bother me." Smirk. "You really trust me to decorate something? What are you thinking about.. painting? Because I don't know if I'd trust any of that woodworking stuff into my hands." Judas paused, looking familiar. "...Might not be so bad with a paintbrush, though. Still, you sure you don't want to give that to like, Peter?" Another thing he couldn't give someone shit about. He'd seen the youngest of them in and out working and his head bent dirty over his laptop to keep up with the Kickstarter. Good kid.

Perhaps want alone wasn't enough to make Judas feel better. JC let his hand draw back, not bothering to ask if Judas' back still hurt to the degree it had before. In the end, it didn't matter. The voice hadn't told him one way or the other if he was channeling any of his abilities. They usually only worked when he was being whispered to.

"If you'd like to paint, to can. And so can Peter. Or I can show you how to install hinges for the cabinets." It would keep Judas from doing anything too physical and hurting himself again. He was discussing how the hardware worked (using his hands in the air as if he was holding tools) when their meals were brought over.

Eating was about the only time lately that JC was quiet. Usually. Today that was not the case.

Today he decided to ask the hard questions.

"When you date... What are you looking for?"

Judas wasn't even really paying attention to his back, not when JC was talking and holding his hand and everyone was around. However, he'd notice later that his back wasn't bothering him nearly as much. He'd shrug and chock it up to the hot shower.

"Hinges, huh? Sure. Teach away, oh wise master." He bowed with a spread hand from his seat, then propped his arm back up. "Probably wouldn't hurt if I knew how to do a few more practical things like that in my life, anyway." Really, he had no particular life skills and he knew it, even if learning how to budget like he did could probably have gotten him a job at some point in his life, but it didn't matter. JC was his job, now.

Then that came out and Judas' easy expression changed briefly to surprise, then forcing back a suffering sigh. Alright. Let's do this.

"Out of no where," he muttered, shoving back some dreads. "I don't know, exactly? But you're probably going to get offended no matter what I say here, so don't take it the wrong way. I just... fuck. Dating? You really think I've gone and dated a lot of people in my life? Fucked, sure, but dated? Not so much."

He didn't like that word. Not because it was vulgar or dirty, but because it sounded so impersonal. Enjoyment of another person wasn't sinful (he knew what the Torah said. He was a good Jewish boy after all, but he didn't agree with it completely) but surely there had to be more than just pleasure? Right?

JC loosely held the spoon in his hand, ignoring Judas' groan because honestly, they were on a date. This wasn't out of nowhere. He just had poor timing.

"You said to me that you might eventually find the person meant for you. Who was perfect for you. So you have to know what sort of person you're looking for outside of sex, Judas."