forallyoucare | (no subject)

Judas looked over the bus with a somewhat dubious look, but still wanted to believe this could really happen. Trying to get something fully furnished was beyond their abilities even with some help, but they could make this work (or so he wanted to believe). He gave the bus a pat and looked to Bart, who was over talking to the man in charge of this scrap heap. As predicted, the boss Bart worked for was okay with him bringing the bus over to the shop and gave them space for it, but they needed to get it over there. Even that was going to take quite a bit of their ready money, but Judas hoped like hell this Kickstarter worked like the others thought it would.

Thad looked over, running a hand through his hair, and offered up, "I could get started on a design to get this fixed up." He always did have a bit of an eye for sketching, and he was looking over the bus with a thoughtful expression.

"Bart can get it running again, and JC you can help us build the inside back up, right?" James called over, peering at a broken window with a frown. "If we can get the bugs out."

“Mum will be happy to see me in the shop again. All right, let me get some tools and I’ll meet you back at the garage?” JC was just going to walk. It was a nice day and he wasn’t going to be of much use moving the tour bus. He knew absolutely nothing about mechanics and it was entirely too large to push the mile or so that they had to go. About to leave Judas to the job of figuring out the logistics, JC felt a cold chill wriggle up his spine.

All you need to do is touch the hood. The voice was as insistent as ever. No. It was worse, not a whisper but an outright command. JC actually felt his head pulse with the words and he pressed both of his hands against his temples.

“JC?” A chorus of voices, all concerned, followed.

He brushed them off, gently. Especially Peter. Pushing through the gathered men, he came to stand up on the back bumper of another car and, leaning over, he pressed his palms against the hood.

There was a spark and an eruption of black smoke from the tailpipe. The colour had completely drained from JC’s tanned cheeks so he was little more than bone white. He stumbled getting down from the bumper.

“Try it now.”

The entire group jumped at that sudden noise, leaving them to all stare for several long moments, back and forth between JC and the bus, before it was Judas who slowly moved through everyone and hauled himself up into the driver's seat, reaching over and turning the keys. The sound that came out of the bus was not a good one, but it did, after a few attempts to turn over, actually start up. Even the guy who was giving it to them stared, completely confused. Only Bart was close enough to hear him mutter, "that thing hasn't started in years..."

There was a lot of cheering from the group, but Judas' eyes were only on JC, concern in his eyes as he saw how terrible his friend suddenly looked. He climbed out of the driver's seat and walked over, putting a hand on JC's shoulder, trying to meet his eyes and make sure the other was all right. "JC? Shit, man, talk to me." What the hell was that?!

There was a far away, almost glassy look to JC’s eyes even as Judas came to pull him away from the cheering. Sure, Jesus was smiling, somewhat, like he was just starting to come down off of a high and had no idea where he was or why everyone was celebrating. It was a look Judas, of all people, knew well.

“What?” He snaked his arm around his friend’s ironically unironic t-shirted waist and blinked a little more clarity into his gaze. “Nothing. I mean, the system had a little extra…gunk in it. I guess.” He wasn’t about to tell Judas that a voice told him to touch the hood. Or had told him to get a bus in the first place.

It was a provider. It did not want the lime light.

“Hopefully it will get everyone to the garage, right? I’m going to head back to dad’s workshop and get some tools too. Are you all right?” Yeah, he could read the look on Judas’ face. Skepticism was his middle name.

Judas was not only skeptical but worried. He'd seen that glassy look in the eyes of people before and it usually came down to high or sick, both of which he'd never known JC to be a moment of his life. (High on life maybe but... not the same.) Sometimes JC could go... spacey on him, but this? This was definitely not that, either.

"I'm just fine," Judas said slowly, as if JC wasn't realizing that he wasn't fooled. "Look- I'm going with you, okay?" That was that, as far as he was concerned. After that little stunt, whatever it was, he wasn't about to let Jesus just go walking off on his own. What if something was wrong and he just passed out?

He slid his arm around his friend, not caring if the others saw the movement. Concern he wouldn't show so readily but now he looked just slightly grumpy, hiding that worry.

JC leaned against Judas, more than happy for the closeness as usual. "You can always come with me. I might even insist on it." Where would he be without judas? Most of the men here were from the local liberal arts college, big thinkers but not really big doers. Simon was different. And Bart. And Judas most of all. The three were his favoured, along with Peter, but he loved Peter for a different, perhaps less wholesome reason.

He'd saved the three others in ways he would never save the rest. Bart had been on the verge of suicide, stuck in a dead end job, whose wife had left him with their infant son for another. Simon had been part of what he called a Male Review, but he had really been a scene stripper and prostitute with an alcohol problem. And judas--

His Judas he had found on the street. The voice hadn't led him there, his feet had, but finding Judas had been the best day of JC's life. It might still be.

He was the true definition of soul mate.

JC set his head on Judas's shoulder and sloppily slumped against him as they rounded the corner.

"Mum's gonna be mad," he said quietly. "She won't want me to go."

Protector, guardian, brother, friend. Judas considered himself all of these when it came to JC. Sure, he watched over the rest of the Twelve, even the ones who were older than him, but there was a connection to JC in a way he couldn't explain. Soul mate definitely might have been the closest thing he could have found to it, and in the end, he had no problem in hearing it from JC or thinking it in his own head, but it would have been very difficult to say aloud. Affection, in any sense, wasn't something he was easy with.

"Your mother," Judas pointed out, easily holding JC's weight up, "is someone who I can't even imagine getting mad, never mind you. She thinks the world of you. She might get sad about it," in fact he was certain of that, "but not angry." Mary loved her son in a way that Judas couldn't even find himself being jealous of, not when she was such a kind woman.

"She was so mad last time I left home," JC insisted, thumb finding one of Judas' belt loops. His father had been alive then, and the two of them had come charging into the university where he was lecturing-- He hadn't said very nice things to them then. His temper had always been so bad when it flared even if the Twelve had never had to see it. That was all before. Back when the voice was strongest.

"You're gonna stay right? She can't tell if you're with me." Mary would never yell, period, but JC seemed convinced that he was going to be in trouble. The man was twenty-nine years old. It seemed such an odd thing.

But the inside of his skull felt slick. Itchy. He didn't like it.

"Uh huh." Didn't believe that for a second. There wasn't a single part of him that could ever imagine Mary actually angry at anything; she was the calmest person he had ever known. He even felt calm around her, which was saying something. He squeezed JC's waist, a small smile coming up to his lips.

"Course I'll stay, defend you against your mother." He rolled his eyes and grinned, showing it was clearly a joke. Really, how did someone JC's age still fear their mother? It was ridiculous, but it was just a part of the whole of who JC was.

They got up to the front door and Judas grabbed the outer door, letting JC unlock the inner and bringing him inside. He blinked a few times against the difference in lighting change from the darkness outside to the warm light inside, peering to see if he could see her. It was clear they were spotted quickly because from the couch, tucked into the corner, was Mary, with a ball of yarn beside her as she worked on something Judas couldn't quite identify. "Hello you two," she called over, smiling softly.

Unleashing himself from Judas' side, JC moved over to his mother and sat lightly on the coffee table. She smiled at him and he at her. JC had her eyes and her hair. Judas had only ever seen photos of JC's dad but he couldn't look more different than the man sitting with his mother. JC was definitely Mary's son, however, right down the olive touch to his skin. He took her hands and leaned forward.

"Can I get you anything before Judas and I go to bed?"

Mary said she was absolutely fine, but pulled her hand from his to touch his cheek. "You're so pale, Jesus. What have you been doing?"

"Moving a bus," JC said and put his hand over his heart. "Honestly. To Bart's garage. We're going to fix it up."

She really did look skeptical then, glancing to Judas for confirmation. "If that is what you want to do with your time," she said, like all good Jewish mothers. "But you should get back to your studies. Or to work. You make such beautiful things, Jesus. Your aunt was over the other day and mentioned how much she would like a table like the one you built--"

JC was calm as he stood. "I will be building, mum. I have very important things to build."

Judas wanted to argue, just a little, that it felt like something had happened there with the bus, but when Mary looked to him he just gave a little shrug. No anger or sour or shake of his head that would have negated what JC was saying. Really, that had been what they were doing but... man. Maybe he was over-thinking it or something.

JC did get a look from Judas at his last words. Don't lie to your Mama! He knew JC didn't mean what she did and sometimes he wondered why JC didn't do some of the woodwork on the side. ...He did do beautiful work. Still, all of their focus was on everything they were building in another sense, and that was that.

"Thanks for letting me stay over," Judas offered less-than-helpfully, appreciating that Mary hadn't even balked on letting her home be open to him in the past or now. She was not the kind of person he could be his normal sourpuss around. He gave a little flip of a wave before he ducked into the hall and back towards JC's room, ready to strip down and get some sleep.

JC wasn't lying. He never lied. He was about to build something great. The voice told him so. He was going to do more than the tour bus, he was going to build up humanity itself. It was a gift. It was what he had been born to do. No one was ever going to understand that until they saw it.

JC kissed his mother goodnight on the forehead after she smiled at her son and her son's best friend and told Judas he was always more than welcome. JC got her some more water and grabbed a beer from the refrigerator. He didn't brink, not usually. Sometimes he had some of Judas' drink but mostly he stuck to coffee and water. This beer was kept specifically for his friends and it was nice and cold when he arrived in his room.

He stood in the doorway too long, watching Judas pull off his shirt, scarf already looped over the back of the chair at his desk. He leaned against the threshold, head on moulding his father crafted and installed as his eyes traced over the familiar freckles and scars that covered Judas' skin.

Lying by omission counted, as far as Judas was concerned, but he wasn't about to ride JC for it. It was just to spare his mother's feelings. Right now though it felt good to get out of jacket and scarf, scratching at his ribs as he dropped his tee shirt down on top of his jacket. He stretched out slowly, feeling his bones flex against one another, before he dropped his arms and let out a huff.

Some six sense told him to turn around, so he glanced over his shoulder and raised a brow at JC before giving a little twitch-twitch of his backside in a joking manner before he spotted the beer. A smile came up to his lips and he wiggled his fingers in the bottle's direction. "You know me too well," he said with a joke and warmth in his voice.

He settled himself on the edge of JC's bed with the bottle in hand in only his pants, using his teeth to pop open the bottle. He spat out the cap into his other hand and took a drink, his eyes closing at the small pleasure of a truly cold beer. When he was done he gave a quick lick of his lips and settled himself comfortably. "How long do you think it'll take Bart to get that bus up and running fully? The inside needs a lot of work, too... few months?"

There was a small laugh to Judas' antics before the smile returned and warmed his face. He shut the door and pulled over the rolling chair from the desk to plop down into it. JC didn't immediately undo his boots. He didn't ask for a swig of the beer. He didn't even begin the process of trying to get the amusing amount of bracelets off. He just scooted forward a little more until one shin hit his bedside table so he could lean against it and face Jucas while they spoke.

"Three months." Three months exactly. From now, most things would be done in threes. The voice hadn't outright told him that but sometimes he just had a feeling. "We'll be leaving on March third."

Exact. Precise. JC couldn't know that but the look in his eyes was unmistakeable.

"It's going to be everything we've needed, Judas. We're going to reach the entire country. We'll make a difference. You'll see. It's... Hard. To have faith. But you trust me, right?"

A brow lifted at that so-exact date and how serious JC sounded about it. Three months? It wasn't as if his friend knew anything about mechanics but certainly knew about building, so maybe it was his professional opinion on the matter. Judas gave a shrug and took another swig. "Of course I trust you. We're already making a difference and I plan to keep making one. Nothing's going to change that. If we can build up locals all around the country to start food drives, clothing drives, raise money for people in need... we're spreading something damn good around."

He did hesitate, just slightly, thinking on his earlier thoughts about how JC seemed to be saying more, but pushed them aside. "Besides, getting out of here's going to make a difference for all of us. It's something I think we need. We only know how bad or good it's here, not anywhere else, not really. This way, we'll know."

No one understood him as Judas did technically, Judas didn't understand him at all, not really, not deeply, but one day he would. The voice never mentioned sharing it with anyone but JC needed to let the person he cared most for in this world in on the secret. One day. After the great things started to happen. After the Twelve took their places as his conduits--

Judas' belief in what they were doing and could do left JC grinning almost stupidly. He shifted from chair to bed in a breath and worked on unlacing his shoes with sturdy, calloused hands that had still remained fine and warm despite the work he had employed himself in for some time now. He kicked the boots off when they were loose enough and slumped back until his neck and head were held up by the wall.

He could look at Judas better that way and he reached up with a braceleted arm to lightly tug on the longer of the dreadlocks.

"Just so. The world will never stop suffering but we can ease it."

[*googles pictures of Tim Minchin's hands*]

Judas halfheartedly batted the hand from his dreadlocks, but instead laid himself down beside his friend, letting his head lay completely on the bed and his feet hang off, not bothered by the weird position. "Yeah." A single sound of agreement, but a strong agreement. That was what he wanted to do more than anything in his life - ease the suffering of the people who needed it most. The ones who had trouble living day to day, who had trouble getting the most basic supplies like food, clothing, hygiene products... if they worked at it, they could help more and more by getting more and more people to do the same work. It's why he believed in Jesus so strongly; no one, in his eyes, wanted to help people more.

He felt a yawn come up and barely covered it with a broad hand, long fingers lax, then let the hand flop onto his face to block out the room light, keeping his other hand balancing the beer. "I don't think John or James believe too strongly in that bus turning into something decent," Judas pointed out with a chuckle. "Tom's face was just crestfallen when he saw it."

“Thomas is always going to be a doubter,” JC said evenly, watching Judas flop around. He did things elegantly without knowing he did. His limbs were graceful without being obviously so. JC had been watching him, intently, for probably a year now. Maybe a little more. But the need to do so was just starting to become intense. More like a need. He’d been spending more time with Judas lately, moreso than any of the other Twelve.

Yes, Judas understood him better than anyone else, but there was something more there too.

He prayed on it, like any good young man, but so far, no one had thought to answer him. Not until tonight.

Touch his cheek. It was strange, to have the voice suddenly hit him, right in the middle of a sleepy conversation about a friend. It repeated itself almost immediately after…and would continue to do so, JC knew, until he did as he was told. And so he did, the backs of his fingertips lightly moving across Judas’ cheek.

The subtle touch made Judas lift his head, tilting his head down and back so that he could look, albeit upside down, his expression more curious than anything. It wasn't as if he wasn't mostly used to JC's odd little gestures and touches - it was impossible to be friends with the man and not get used to them - so it didn't bring too much surprise. He tilted his head back to take another swig but it was a bit messy in the process since he was laying down, which made him snort and rub his forearm across his mouth.

"So are you going to really rebuild the inside of that bus yourself?" It would be kind of a nice touch, but he wasn't so sure how that would go. They couldn't have wood everywhere, obviously... metal, plastic, all that stuff needed to be in there at some point. "Might need a plumber for the shower and water closet, though."

Not too thoughtful of a topic, just something to chat about, winding down after what turned out to be an exciting day. Something easy, something he was long familiar with.

Quick with the sleeve of his shirt, JC took care of the mess, unbidden. He didn’t need to be told how to be kind or caring, the voice left him alone for most of his actions, after all. Judas’ question did make him think, though. “We’ll have to repurpose some things. Maybe we can learn to refit the bathroom ourselves…?” Wasn’t that what YouTube was for? “But I can take care of most of the furniture.” He didn’t just craft tables, he could upholster benches too. What he couldn’t make, they could find. Presumably.

The voice wouldn’t steer him wrong on that. Why have a tour bus without it being able to actually work? JC put his faith in his faith totally. It was what would take them all to the next step.

Move the hair from his neck. JC didn’t think, he just complied, smoothing out one of the dreads along the simple white cotton sheets before his fingers returned to Judas’ neck. He supposed it was an attempt to locate looser hair that might cling to the skin. He was being thorough.

"If you suggest it, I bet everyone will give it a shot. We just need to make sure it's done right because the last thing we need is the bathroom crapping out on us on the road. ...Heh. Crapping out." He grinned, looking amused with himself. At first he didn't move when JC was playing with his dreads, that wasn't unusual in the least, but when it pulled at any hair closer to his neck he made a halfhearted batting motion.

"If you're going to tickle me, be prepared to get it worse," he 'threatened', laughing a little at the end of it. No, he didn't mean that (mostly) but it did tickle to have those long fingers at the sensitive hairs around his pale neck. His eyes closed again, the black liner he tended to smear around them still on and he'd have to take it off before he passed out or risk getting it all in the pillow cases, but he wasn't ready for sleep quite yet despite his exhaustion.

The baby hairs at the base of Judas' neck were so soft. No voice was needed to make JC lightly run his fingers through them (and down Judas' neck) or to brush them away again only to repeat the sequence.

"I'm not that ticklish," JC said, soft soft and distant but not exactly far away. He was examining the other man's neck, the expanse of it, the muscles that ran beneath it and the tendon that stood out in contrast to the rest. It carried his attention more than the hair. "You'd be welcome to try but I'd still win out."

He was just being honest. His skin never seemed so sensitive. He didn't tan further than the soft olive his skin always maintained, he could cut himself in the shop and barely notice. Discomfort was just not a sense that really registered with him.

And considering where his career path would end, that was a blessing.

His fingers drifted further, stroking along just one exposed collar bone. There was an expanse of pale skin for him to be goaded into a touching. Not that he needed it.

"That's not fair," Judas grumbled, trying to ignore the faint tickle that came from his neck, relaxing slightly when it moved away from his neck and the sensation stopped. Mostly. JC was still touching him, following the lines of his body, and it was enough to make him look back to his friend again. This was a bit more beyond his normal touching, so he raised a questioning eyebrow but said nothing.

JC was a good looking man, far too good looking, but nothing even crossed his mind when it came to stuff like this. When they had first met, it had been there, that desire, but JC had put that aside quickly enough and things had turned into friendship. It left things to where they were now, something Judas wouldn't change for anything in the world, but sometimes it made him wonder. It wasn't exactly as if JC was out with guys or girls doing things - at least nothing he'd ever seen or even heard of - and he thought he knew best.

It never really occurred to JC to be interested in these things. He'd gone through puberty without having too many thoughts on girls or boys for any particular reason. He had been asked out a bit, though his soothing smile and normally clueless approach to dating turned any outing into just hanging out. Most people got the idea by the end of the first date and just let it alone.

"There are painfully few things in this world that are fair," he murmured, paying little attention to Judas' face or eyebrows or questioning stare. He had already started on tracing his breastbone as far as his arm could go without leaning, fingertips resting a few inches above his navel.

His face.

With another instruction, JC returned attention to Judas' cheek, thumb lightly scratching along a stubbled jaw line.

Judas' body gave a little ripple under JC"s fingertips. The instruction came just before a little warning swat against tickling came, so Judas' hand only wave through the air. Satisfied, he let his hand drop but his eyes didn't close with JC touching him. Given JC's near asexual existence until now, and the place Judas had put him in his mind ('untouchable', in that sense), this was confusing him more than anything else. It just didn't cross his mind what those touches could mean. Maybe it didn't even for JC.

"Touchy, tonight," he offered instead, some of that confusion leaking out into his voice but he wouldn't just tell JC to stop. Instead, he took another swig from the bottle, throat working around the cool beer before he shifted his weight to put it on the table beside JC's bed instead of holding it, wiping the moisture off on his pant leg. "I'm not much use trying to build anything, so what do you want from me tomorrow while the others are building and Kickstarter-ing?"