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Andrew doesn't know how to approach this thing he has with Judas, at first or really ever.
He likes Judas, that's for sure. Judas when he's actually happy does fluttery things to him like he was a teenager again and not a couple thousand years old, if you count years after death. Judas's incredible lack of consideration for himself hasn't stopped bothering Andrew, though Judas treats it as if it were more natural than breathing.
That's the problem, and the reason Andrew doesn't want to just tell Judas that he likes him. He predicts one of two responses: one, a self-loathing fit involving the phrase 'why would you ever feel that way towards such a (insert insult here)' or two, Judas accepting to make him happy, whether or not he has any similar feelings.
He isn't sure whether he'd be able to tell if he had similar feelings. When he really makes an effort, Judas is good on putting on a false smile.
So directly telling him is out until Andrew is more confident or Judas is a worse liar. And by that token, he can't tell Peter about it either: even without birds crowing to give him away, he's not good at keeping secrets.
Well. Better try another tack.
At breakfast, Judas thumbs through the pamphlet left innocuously by his cereal. "Andrew." He sighs heavily. "I don't think a primer on self-esteem suitable to a middle school class is what I need."
"It was worth a try." Andrew watches Judas throw the pamphlet in the recycling and tries to brainstorm other options.
What he does is start leaving packages for them on their doorstep, addressed to Judas. Flowers, chocolates, standard mushy things. There's no way to trace it back to him, so for now he'll just watch and see Judas's reaction.
"This isn't for me," Judas argues about the roses.
"Your name is on the card," Andrew points out. Judas stares at the roses for a minute before tossing them into the compost heap without a word.
The chocolates he had refused to eat under any circumstances, and Andrew sighed and hands them to Peter. "I guess they're for you now."
"Thanks." Peter munches on one, then asks, "Are you sure about this?"
"Too far in to back out." Andrew plans his next move.
The love letter Andrew painstakingly wrote by hand and didn't sign, Judas carries through their home until he finds Andrew. Holding it up for him to see, Judas says clearly, "I know what your handwriting looks like."
Andrew hadn't thought of that. "....oops."
Judas clenches his free fist. "Why are you doing this to me? Do you enjoy making fun of me, Andrew? Does it give you great pleasure to pretend that someone is interested in me and raise my hopes only to dash them on the rocks?"
"I like you." Andrew touches Judas's cheek gently and feels his face heat up. "I'm sorry, I should have told you directly in the first place."
"...how... how far will you go to mock me..." The air has been let out of Judas's anger; all he seems now is sad as he leans into Andrew's hand.
"Wouldn't know, since I'm not mocking you," Andrew answers, gently rubbing a circle with his thumb on Judas's cheek.
"...prove it."
Andrew doesn't ask for more confirmation than that. Cupping Judas's face in his hands, he kisses him, light and sweet, and gradually Judas returns the kiss.
That seems good enough.