forallyoucare | (no subject)

"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?"

"Does it bother you?" JC didn't really want to ignore the question of the Kickstarter. They should start putting up flyers and Judas had connections with one of the people that worked at Staples to get them a discount. He should work on that, honestly, they should be talking strategy, but the textures of Judas' face were interesting and new to him.

He traced along his eyebrow, thumbing one eyelid closed briefly, and stroking his thumb at the corner of lips Judas was always biting or picking at or wetting.

"That I can't build?" Judas looked very confused for several seconds, trying to put together the conversation moments before as to why JC was asking him that. When the thumb went over his eyelid, he finally reached up and grasped JC's wrist, sucking on the bit of his lip the other had touched to erase the faint tingle left behind, and he peered at the other over the wrist he held loosely in the circle of thumb and index finger.

He got what the other had asked the question on by that point and raised an eyebrow at him. "You're the touchiest person I know," he pointed out, not like it was a bad thing. "What's gotten into you tonight?" He released the wrist, shifting back to pick his upper body up and lean on his elbows. "You've been acting out of it since whatever happened at the bus."

Either the voice had anticipated something different from Judas or was hoping JC would figure out what was going on because it gave the latter no further instruction. JC pulled his hand back to his lap once Judas let him go, suddenly feelings ridiculously warm. His whole face seemed to turn a version of cranberry and his muscles tensed.

"I shouldn't-- Nothing." He offered a smile because it wasn't a lie. Nothing was up with him, after all. The voice had been there for awhile now. It was just lushusa than usual. "I ought to have asked first. It wasn't exactly uh... Normal? I've made you uncomfortable and I swear it wasn't my intention. I wanted to touch you. That sounds crazy."

He laughed but it wasn't nervous so much as disappointed. He didn't even know why he felt disappointed though! There had been something happening there. Something that made him feel less alone. But he shouldn't have forced that on Judas when he knew his background.

"Are you done with the beer?"

Judas wouldn't have considered it forced, not in the least. Hell, if he'd been able to figure it out, he would have felt like an idiot because well, no man was immune to that kind of basic shit, right? JC needed an outlet and... sure, why not? But it was strange to put JC into that category considering how far removed from it Judas had seen the man be his entire life.

Still, a look of confusion came across his face as he realized that JC was blushing about as dark as the man could go and for him, sounded... awkward. Something JC rarely looked. An inkling of possible truth was starting to sink in.

The comment about his beer made him look over to where he put it down, as if realizing it was even there, and he flicked his fingers at it. "No, go ahead." But he didn't look entirely convinced this was 'nothing'. He shifted his weight again, pulling himself up more, before hesitantly offering, "you can touch, you know." He gave a lion's grin, all tease, "we both know no man can resist." Okay so he was playing around because he damn well know JC had resisted.

Despite the usual lackadaisical approach to life that JC had, his passion at times could be overwhelming. He was a man like any other and while he seemed untouchable with most things, in this he was not. Confusion and embarrassment gave rise to a little bit of amusement towards himself before he reached passed Judas to get his beer. He took a swig of it, not really liking the taste, and it really didn't ply him with courage.

"If that's true, why don't you have a boyfriend?" he asked. Pointedly. He didn't even bother to mention a potential girlfriend. They'd never discussed any of this but some of the Twelve did go around with partners that they dated casually. There was nothing to their calling yet that might dissuade them from relationships like that. But Judas was different.

A loner of sorts. And certainly always alone.

Blink.

Judas rarely managed to get completely gobsmacked, but JC tended to be the king of bringing those moments around. It was so out of left-field that it took a moment for his normally quick wits to drag up an answer. "There's a big difference between fucking and a boyfriend, you realize?"

Of course JC realized (...he hoped that was an 'of course' but sometimes JC seemed innocent of the strangest things) but it was more to the point of the statement. If he wanted to go fuck someone, he could. Grab Simon and go find a bar because they were a good pair together if they wanted to be on the hunt, smooth talk, and go find somewhere he and some pretty face could do just that.

But a boyfriend meant something... more. It meant letting someone get that close, to know him that well. It meant someone close enough to hurt and rip his heart out when he was least suspecting it.

Why was JC even asking that? "What's your point?" he asked with slightly narrowed eyes.

The words out of Judas’ mouth, while not shocking in and of themselves (he was a grown man) still left JC feeling a little rough and more than a little speechless. “I didn’t have a point,” he said finally, taking the bottle with him as he left the bed to dump the remains in the sink for rinsing and recycling. The voice that had been reassuring and certain just moments ago seemed gone, as if abandoning him.

But wasn’t that always the case? When he needed guidance most, it wasn’t there. He stayed away a little longer than intended, rinsing the bottle over and over, thumb over the mouth to shake a little suds around the interior, before he drummed his fingers on the counter and returned back to Judas.

He didn’t apologise (nothing to apologise for), and just lightly elbowed him over so he could crawl into bed, intended not to speak about that evening at all.