Work Text:
Goncharov sometimes thought about Jesus and Judas. Even though he was raised by a Christian mother and had ties, bloody ties, with the Mafia, Goncharov has never been religious, always lying on the side of "If you want something done right, do it yourself," than "Praying for miracles".
But like any good Devil, he too could qoute scripture. Though instead of falsifying the conceptions of good Christians, Goncharov used his memory of the Bible (credited to his mother) to conduct blasphemous thoughts. And today he thought about something he always thinks of; what if the events of Jesus and his life did happen but without any of the magic, what if Jesus was just a normal guy who advocated being good and got nailed for it?
He sometimes wondered what went through the mind of Jesus when he was kissed by Judas. To be reciprocated by his love and then realize that he was betrayed for a few silver coins, today's equivalent of ten dollars.
Goncharov sipped his cheap whiskey, it was brought by the ten dollars from the hundred dollars he got by murdering a man.
While Goncharov thought a lot about Jesus and Judas, he never truly understood their dynamic until he was in this precarious position. The pistol held hard against his chest, Andrey's eyes not meeting him as his forefinger was slightly away from the trigger. Goncharov now understood what Jesus, prophetic or not, normal or not, felt. Jesus knew Judas would betray him, just like how Goncharov knew Andrey would. And yet, Jesus still allowed him to be apart of his Apostles, just like how Goncharov took Andrey to an art gallery.
An art gallery is not something made for a hitman and a spy, just like how the world isn't made for someone liking someone of their own gender. That's why Goncharov thought it was perfect for him and Andrey.
And watching Andrey's eyes shine in curiosity was worth it. Explaining, quoting, the scripture, to someone who didn't have guide to the Bible was worth it.
Just like how saying "Are you portraying this kiss or are you a coward?" to Andrey, when he was pressing his pistol to his chest and avoiding his eyes was worth it. For afterwards, Andrey kissed him.
Andrey kissed like someone who has never kissed before, unsure and uncertain. Kissing someone with intent was a luxury not afforded to them. Maybe that's why Andrey lost all his uncertainty all too soon. He kissed harder.
Andrey's hand tightened around his gun but Goncharov didn't notice it because he had his eyes closed. He loved Andrey as much as he hated blood, and to be allowed the luxury to pursue one and leave the other was something Goncharov never expected. Above all else, Goncharov was tired, from all the blood, the lies, from running away from his nature, he was tired. And the kiss, no matter how hard or inexperienced, felt like a gift, a blanket to cover him from the world.
The finger pulled the trigger and the bullet went through Goncharov's heart.
The few moments of consciousness granted to Goncharov as his body fell backwards and before Andrey's tears left his face, Goncharov knew what Jesus thought about Judas. Jesus forgave Judas, just like how Goncharov kissed Andrey.
