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“How are your parents?” Jesus asked. A normal question for a casual conversation, just like the ones they had every night before retiring to bed with the other disciples.
Nonetheless, Judas dodged it. “Hm? Oh, they're fine, I suppose.”
His response seemed to confuse Jesus, and confusion meant that his perfect brown eyes were flawlessly framed by immaculate thick eyebrows. Like a portrait of the most innocent man painted by a deity. Jesus wrote letters to his mother every night. Judas should have known that he would be surprised by his own relationship with his parents. He should have lied and said that they were well and deflected the topic back to Jesus’s mother. “You don't know?”
Judas tried to hide how he flinched at the question. “… We haven’t been in touch, no.”
Understanding dawned in those intelligent eyes. “Not since you joined?”
Judas sighed and laced his fingers, watching them twist into odd shapes instead of meeting his gaze. “That’s when it started, yeah.”
“Is it because of me?”
“What? No. Well, sort of. It’s not your fault.”
Jesus frowned, his big eyes full of wholesome confusion. Judas did not know what it meant when people said the eyes were the windows to the soul until he met Jesus. He looked away, embarrassed by how they affected him. “What do they hold against me?”
Judas wanted to laugh. How absurd, to think he could be the cause of any of his problems. What do they hold against him? Nothing. They knew they could not fault him for being a light to the world. The problem was that Judas was a moth to his flame.
But he could not tell him that. “You’re not the problem. It’s me.” Judas felt his voice beginning to falter and he finished his thought louder than he had meant to in his attempt to hide how much it bothered him.
Thankfully Jesus allowed them to walk together in silence after that. Maybe the droning cicadas would drown out his slightly racing heart.
No such luck. "Why did you decide to follow me?" He asked the question just as casually as he had the first, but it was loaded with intent.
Judas's voice caught in his throat. "I believe in your teachings and I want to spread your message. I was inspired by you to do good deeds and this looked like the best way to go about it. What else is there to say?" He glanced at Jesus with a faltering grin then hurried to look away. His heart was beating much too fast now.
Jesus flashed his teeth in a quick but knowing smile. "Wrong," he quipped. "That was only the whole truth when you first joined. You don't have to hide anything, now try again."
A heat that did not come from the sun colored Judas's face. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Then Judas felt a hand drop onto his shoulder and steer him around to face Jesus. His hand on his shoulder. A touch like that should not consume all of his attention, but it did. God, it really, truly did. It was all he could think about. Jesus fixed his gaze on him, hard and penetrating. Judas became acutely aware that his feeble attempt at a lie was not what was being examined. Jesus saw right through it and into the depths of what must be his soul. He knew he was lying and he wasn’t upset by it, only trying to understand. And somehow he knew exactly what the truth was. He must have always known.
A stare so intimately perceptive would feel like a violation if those eyes had belonged to anyone but Jesus. Instead they sparked a craving to let him see more. Judas had been trying to ignore that craving for a few months now.
"I think you know.” He dared to glance at those eyes for an entire second. God, it was just like staring at the sun.
And the sun shone upon him. "Humor me," Jesus said with an encouraging smile. "I think it's best if these things begin with both parties speaking for themselves, don’t you?"
Judas chewed on his lip, burning beneath the day that never turned to night. "What sort of things?"
Jesus laughed and ruffled his own hair. If the rabbi weren't such a modest man Judas would suspect he was preening for his benefit. "Matters of love of course."
It was like this was all a delightful game for him. Judas rolled his eyes to the heavens. Jesus always got his way. It was easier just to give him what he wanted. Especially when he had fantasized about giving it to him so many times. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets. "Fine, since it's apparently so damn obvious. I have a crush on you. Is that what you wanted to hear so badly?"
Jesus practically glowed. "I wanted you to hear yourself say it.”
Judas scoffed. As if he didn’t already know his own feelings well enough. “Well have you had your fun?” he asked a bit waspishly.
He bit down on his cheek when those big, brown eyes looked so beautifully hurt. Was it wrong that he wanted to make Jesus pout more often just to see his pillow-soft lip push out like that? “Fun? I’m not making fun of you.”
“Well then what are you getting out of this?”
“I thought it was obvious?” Jesus scratched his scalp awkwardly. “I mean we've been spending plenty of time together lately.”
Judas did not dare allow himself to hope for what Jesus must be suggesting. It wasn’t like him to play such a cruel trick, but he had surprised him before. “As your consultant,” he reminded him.
Rocking on the balls of his feet, Jesus nodded. “That has technically been the arrangement, yes. I was hoping we could be something more than that.”
“You mean together?” Judas blurted, certain that he could not bear it if Jesus insisted on dancing around the subject.
“Yes, that is exactly what I mean.” Jesus eagerly slipped his hand into Judas’s own, and just like before when he had put a hand on his shoulder Judas felt his entire mind slipping into his pleasantly calloused grip.
It was too risky. Though it pained him, he pulled his hand away and dropped it to his side. “… that’s not a good idea. I’m not much good for a partner. I’ve got issues, they’ll ruin everything. Sorry I wasted your time.” And he turned to walk away before he could see whatever look of upset must be on Jesus’s gorgeously expressive face.
“I don’t understand,” Jesus called after him. “Was it something I said? I thought you said you wanted to be with me.”
Judas groaned and pulled at his hair. “Yes, I wanted that, but I never thought you would actually take me. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I just wanted to be around you more. Like I said, I’m sorry. I’ll go and you can move on.”
Jesus jogged to catch up to him. “You really don’t have to do that for my sake. I’m happy to be around you if that’s all you want.”
Judas pushed forward faster, now walking at an embarrassingly fast pace. “No, it’s too late. Everything is weird now and ruined forever. Everything’s going to go sour if I stick around. And anyway, I don’t want my issues to be your problem.”
But he would be damned if Jesus was not determined. He ran and cut him off, planting himself in front of him. “You stopped talking to your parents when you joined me. Why?”
Judas twisted his face into an unsightly scowl. “What, you don’t already know? I thought you knew everything. Leave me alone.”
Jesus’s scowl was pretty. Even when he was unhappy with him, Judas was maddeningly drawn to him. “I have my own suspicions, but couldn’t you tell me anyway?”
Judas stared at him for a long time before he finally gave in. “I didn’t tell them I was going to the sermons, but they knew I met someone. They could see it in my face I think. They ferreted out the truth right away when I brought them to one of your parables. They always know when someone is… like us. A bit off in their eyes. Queer, I guess you could say. And they told me it was wrong to act on it and unwise to get close to you. Said I was putting myself in a bad position. They cried a lot when I told them I had already accepted the treasurer position.”
Jesus looked very solemn. Judas could not decide how he felt about that. He didn’t know if it was better or worse than if he had just stayed confused like before. "But you joined me anyway."
“Yeah. And then I stopped talking to them. They wrote once, begged me to come home. Said it wasn't too late, I didn’t have to throw myself into sin. I didn’t write back. I know I hurt them. I read the letter.” His whole body tensed as he remembered pulling that torn and tear stained letter from the envelope. His chest was tight and his eyes were wide. Why did Jesus insist on triggering and humiliating him like this?
“… I hurt my mom real bad.” The words forced themselves out of his throat without his permission, straining themselves into a pitiful whimper.
A look crossed Jesus’s face that Judas was very familiar with. It was the look he wore when he was deciding on the perfect thing to say to bring someone comfort. Damn it he didn't want to be one of the pleading mass, taking from Jesus and never giving to him. He didn't want that awful distance Jesus was so careful to maintain with them. “You loved me so much it made you hate your parents.”
Those words disrupted Judas’s anxious self loathing with their bizarre accusation. “What? No. I love them, and I know this is how they love me. They just can’t understand that it’s a bad kind of hurt.” His chin started to quiver and a deep breath did nothing to steady it. The words he had sworn he would take to his grave began tumbling out after. “And I couldn’t take the crying, and the hand wringing, and that look on their face that makes it so clear they think I’m too lost to know that I’m poisoning myself. They will never look at me like their son again. As soon as they knew what I was, I became their inclement tragedy. I’m not strong enough to keep taking that, and I wasn’t strong enough to stay away from you either. So, I failed them.”
“I know.” Jesus wrapped his arms around him.
Judas burned in his embrace. “Then why would you say that?” A tiny sob burst from his lips before he could press them shut.
Jesus pulled him tighter. “I thought you might need someone to listen to you say that.” Another mewl spilled into his chest. “And you might need to hear someone say that you didn’t fail them. And that they’re wrong. And it’s not fair that anybody is hurt by love, and I’m so sorry that you got hurt, and I want to make it hurt less.”
Judas shook his head, now weeping in earnest. “I’m difficult. This isn’t the first time I’ve tried to let someone love me. I- when I’m doing bad I get so angry I scare myself. I isolate, I withdraw-”
Jesus shushed him and buried his hands in his hair. “That doesn’t frighten me. If you run away I’ll just come find you. I just hope I’m worth the pain you’re already in.” He held Judas until the crying abated and waited for him to pull back before brushing the tears away with a gentle touch.
“You really think we have a chance?” he asked with a sniff.
Jesus smiled, his eyes syrupy sweet as they met Judas’s cautiously hopeful inspection. “I really do.”
With hands shaking only slightly, Judas pulled his face down to his own and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. Somehow, the kiss felt like it was something more than a kiss. Something wonderfully sweet, but with a bitter aftertaste.