forallyoucare | (no subject)

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."

It was out of no where! Sure they were on a date, but... you don't ask that kind of stuff on a date! Maybe. Judas looked to the side, knowing that JC was serious and he should actually think about it, but things mostly just spun around in his head and all sounded incredibly stupid.

"The problem is you're going to give me shit if I say 'I don't know' but that's pretty much the answer. I really haven't thought about it. I'm not sure that most people who would accept all the shit I'd bring into their life would be the kind of person I want to date." He wasn't beyond realizing just how much baggage he'd bring along. "I guess... I imagined they'd be into the charity stuff. Tattoos? Someone who knows the bad side of life because they've lived it, too. But maybe that's exactly what I don't need." He shrugged. It probably didn't help too much. "Good lay?" Yeah that sounded like an asshole right there and the wrinkle of his nose suggested he knew it.

The description fit him at first and Jesus even smiled along to it because yeah, that was him. He knew everything about Judas. He like charity work-- but it rapidly verged away from him all too quickly. Tattoos. Living something close to how he had lived... Even being a good lay-- None of that was JC. The smile faded and he let the spoon go.

This wasn't the right sort of place and the voice wasn't telling him to do things he had never really considered before. It didn't need to because JC had it in his head that he wanted this. He wanted something more. He wanted to do the things he hadn't because soon... Soon it would all be over. Once they started on this mission, he knew he would have just three years to complete it.

And three years wasn't a very long time, even if he had no idea yet what was waiting for him at the end of the road. He just knew that he would not be able to take what he had now with him.

"So not me," he said, not even bothering to hide his hurt. He never seemed capable of that.

"Fuck." Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. This was exactly why he didn't want to answer this question! He pointed a finger at his friend, brows coming together slightly. "You knew what you were getting into when you asked that question. You asked me what I'd looked for, so I told you. You'd be pissed if I lied to your face, so I didn't. The truth is still that I have no idea who I'd date."

Which clearly suggested the next obvious question. "What about you, then? I know you haven't dated, at least in the time I've known you, so who did you imagine yourself dating?" Because it sure as fuck wasn't him, he knew that much.

He would have slapped JC for those three years thoughts if he knew. Total bullshit. JC had a lifetime.

"You told me I was as close to your soulmate as you could get." So yes. He had known what he was getting into but he had thought that he would fit the bill. They didn't always get along but there was no one in the world that JC was closer to and there was no one that judas let himself get close to either. He'd been hoping to show Judas that he would fit the bill because now that it was in his head, he couldn't get it out.

JC looked passed the pointed finger. He didn't mind that Judas was getting angry and defensive. It was who he was. Who they both were at times.

"I never thought about dating until a few days ago," JC said, ever honest. Never in his entire life. "But touching you the other day, feeling your skin under my fingertips...." His smile, sad, returned. He looked almost wistful. Or maybe just resigned. "You've been the person I've loved the truest and most in my life. Since the day we met." And meeting Judas had not been fun. Not with the state he found him in. "It's always been you."

He held up his hand carefully.

"Please don't-- that doesn't mean it has to be me for you. I had only hoped. And it's all right that it isn't."

"You are." That wasn't even a question for Judas. So that was what started this? He gave a little gesture with two fingers, vague and almost meaningless, but a faint sign of something like nerves. "Dating isn't always the same thing and.. that skin thing... I hate to say it, sounds weird, but maybe you were just horny?" JC, never in a million years, would be the kind to fuck without strings. He seemed more like a 'make love' type of guy... or a complete asexual, which was what Judas always thought of him as.

"We're..." How did he put it? What were the right words? He frowned, thinking on it. "We're something more. Far more. Something that goes... beyond." He was terrible at this sort of thing, all of these emotions. How was he supposed to explain something that he couldn't wrap his hands around?

That explanation, lack of concrete expression and all, scraped at the sadness that had been so very present on the other man's face and JC's smile brightened. He was satisfied with being more than just a date or a boyfriend and he nodded, returning to his meal. Their conversation even returned to normal. Everything really seemed to until a voice latched on to something that Judas had said. Something that had not even been acknowledged. JC paused in the middle of the sidewalk as they left the restaurant and moved away from the Main Street area.

"Can I come back to your place?" It seemed innocent enough. More than it actually was. JC had a strange look on his face. He was rarely unreadable but this look was just so foreign.

When JC just suddenly stopped, Judas, now a few steps ahead, stopped, too, and looked back with confusion. He raised a questioning eyebrow and then- the second eyebrow joined the first at that but Judas shrugged. "Sure." Why not? JC had spent plenty of nights at his place and visa versa, so he didn't even think that much about it. "Can't promise it isn't a mess, though."

Still, what was with that look on JC's face? Judas hesitated in his step, but he trusted his friend more than even himself, so he turned and started in the direction of his place.

It was a studio so small it couldn't even be shared, but it was almost nothing to rent and he was fine with a single room. It was a disaster currently, clothes everywhere but it wasn't the reeking kind of mess that some bachelors ended up with. He looked around, but there wasn't much he could say to it. "Make yourself comfortable?"

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.

Nothing was as fancy as the apartment Simon lived in, and Judas thought that he had everything he needed here. Why pay for anything more when he wasn't here that much? Needed a place for his stuff, to sleep, and come back and relax at night. That was it. Didn't need a lot of space for that. ~~Judas so would love the 'tiny houses' craze in America.~~

JC was some rare thing to exist, some perfect-skinned angel that felt utterly untouchable until he touched you first. Which he always would. Besides, scars, track marks... he didn't need that on someone. So when Judas made it to the bed and turned to say something and there was JC standing already half-naked, he paused, admired, before he shook his head to clear it. He knew JC. Had known him for years now. JC didn't get those sorts of urges. Even when Judas had, sometimes a bit drunk or less than gently, tried to start something in the past, he'd been turned away, but that had been years ago.

He shrugged out of his coat, throwing it over the back of the nearby chair, then sat down to start on his boots. "I'm a terrible date," his voice was joking, "because I'm going to end up passing out as soon as my back hits this bed." A long day of hard work spoke volumes about how much he wanted to sleep, but he also didn't think much of it.