Sinking in a Gentle Pool of Wine
Just found this list and thought I'd contribute my one and only Jesus fic.
Title: Sinking in a Gentle Pool of Wine
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Jesus/Judas
Disclaimer: If you don't like, don't read. No offence intended to anyone of any faith
Summary: A sleepless night in Gethsemane
Notes: Title is from a Jesus Christ Superstar song
I watched him kneeling there, robes flowing down his back, hair hanging down in his face. From his profile I could make out his lips moving behind his folded hands. They always moved when he prayed. I used to make fun of him, tell him he prayed like a little boy who thought the harder he prayed the better chance it'd be answered. He'd laugh, shake the hair out of his face, then just shrug. "Prayers, true prayers, ARE those of a little boy. True prayers are whispers of innocent hearts."
Innocent hearts..
Innocence was something he had. Something he somehow managed to keep despite his age or experience. He had the maturity of a man, the body of a man, but his heart, that was a little boy's. It had such grand dreams, hopes, wishes. And, just like a little boy, the thought that they were all impossible never entered his head. That's what I was for. I was his voice of reason, I always had been. I was the one who told him when things were going too far, when he was getting ahead of himself, when the crowd needed to be thinned out before it got too dangerous. But he wasn't listening to me now. He hadn't listened to me in quite sometime. Another voice had won out over my own.
I made my way through the bodies of the sleeping disciples, my old friends, kicking aside empty goblets and tiptoeing around spilled wine. They were sleeping the sleep of those that did not wish to wake, afraid of what the morning would bring. Only Jesus was awake. He didn't drown himself in oblivion like the rest of them. Instead, just like a little boy, he'd kept himself awake, as if refusing sleep would make the morning never come.
I stumbled, kicked one of the goblets and sent it rolling down the steps. A few of the others stirred but did not wake. But Jesus was not so oblivious. He was turned to me now, blue eyes, so big, so pure, blinking up at me slowly. His mouth was still parted, hands still folded in his prayer, and for a moment I forgot my breath.
"Surely the money they paid you could afford you a room at the inn."
It was a harsh cut, I had to take a step back to recover from it, my eyes turning to the floor. I heard the rustle of his robes as he stood, crossed the space to regard me.
"I didn't want the money."
"But you took it. How much was I worth?"
"Let's not speak of this?"
"Not speaking seems to be something you're good at. Don't say a word then run out and sell me like a whore.."
"Oh you're one to talk of whore's."
I stared back, I wouldn't let him shame me, not over this, not when I knew what he was. He flinched slightly, his man's body trying to hide his little boy's pride and the cut I'd just made to it. "Please Jesus," I said, my eyes filling with tears. "I did it for you."
"For me?"
"Yes. It was getting too much. You were in too deep. I don't think you realized how crazy things had gotten. But now the crowds will back down. They'll release you in a few months. They'll not harm you. Then things can go back to the way they were. We can start over. We can do it right this time. There are so many people left for us to help, Jesus."
"Help others? You're saying you did all this just to help others?"
"You know how I feel about charity."
"That's not the only reason you did it and you know it."
My eyes darted to Magdelene, sleeping peacefully in the corner, and the ever-present pain of jealousy twisted my insides once more. "Was I just to accept it?"
"She never wronged you, Judas."
"Didn't she?" I looked at him, tears falling from my eyes. "How can you be so blind. How can you care so much for others and never... never even give me a moment's notice? All you could see was her. The only one you listen to is her. She became your life and I.. I no longer had a place beside you."
His hand came up, wiping away my tears, pushing the hair out of my face like he always did. "You think she replaced you?"
"Didn't she?"
"Oh Judas," his lips were on my forehead, body pressed to mine in the darkened room. "No one could ever replace you, Judas. We've been together a long time, old friend. No one could ever take you from my heart."
"You wouldn't listen to me," I whispered again, the tears falling freely. "I tried.. so hard.. you just wouldn't listen. It was the only thing I knew to do.."
He pulled me to him, to the familiarity of his chest. How many times has my head rested here? In late nights, early mornings, in sun, in rain, in childhood, in adulthood. Always my head rested here, in mirth, in sorrow. Always. But now it was different. Now it was scented with her oils, imprinted with her fingers. My sanctuary, my happiness, my life, tainted with her, stolen away from me. "Leave," I whispered, my face buried in his robes. "Run with me. We'll take the money and flee far from here. Just us."
"I will not leave."
"You mean you will not leave her." He was stroking my hair, his lips on my scalp, the feeling so familiar, so right.
"No. I will not leave my fate. What comes will come. Running is not the way."
"They'll not harm you," I said again. That's what I had thought when I had went to them, what I believed. A few months then he'd be free, no harm done. But now.. I wasn't so sure. Caiaphas had motives I wasn't originally aware of. I did not trust that man. I did not trust any of them. But it couldn't be stopped now. None of it could. We had gotten in over our heads, Jesus and I, and he seemed reluctant to do anything but let it run it's course. He was always odd, saying strange things at strange times, it was a characteristic of his that I'd always found endearing, but now.. was he really making the right decision?
"Things will work out as they should," he said, his hands rubbing down my back, and I knew he was right. He was always right. Since the start of our friendship he'd always have the most bizarre notions and drag me along on his quests, things that seemed impossible, and it always worked out for the best. Always. And if he felt the same about this then he must be right. It would all work out for the best. It had to. I couldn't lose him. Not like this.
He was pulling at my robes, sliding them off. It was always slightly unexpected when he did this. It was like he didn't know how to ask, or couldn't form the words. So he just did what he wanted, very slowly, giving me every chance to protest or push him away. But I never did. I never would. I loved him far too much to deny him anything I had to give.
The ground was cold as I lay back, looking up at him in the faint light, only a few flickering torches still remained. As I watched him undress I realized I was nervous, scared, like it was my first time again, our first time. But he calmed me, stroked me, kissed my chest, letting his long hair tickle over it as he did. I sighed, my body arching up to his touch, tears still seeping from my eyes. He parted my legs and I held them for him, arms hooked behind my knees, watching him fumble in a satchel and pull out one of Magdelene's vials of oil. It was cold, the scent of jasmine stinging my already reddened eyes, but his touch was gentle, strong fingers slowly working inside me. "I do love you, Judas. I never stopped."
His words were almost too much, I had to bite my lip to keep quite lest I wake the others. He entered me slowly. He was always slow. I liked it that way. I could feel him better. I knew his every inch by heart, could feel it's shape, it's girth as he thrust in, filling me, loving me. My legs wrapped around his waist and I pulled him closer, his face against my neck, those lips moving, kissing, breathing me in. He lifted his mouth to kiss me. I pulled his hair down around us, over our faces, until there was nothing for us to see but each other, this kiss, his eyes, so blue, so innocent, so beautiful.
It seemed to last for hours, but I'm sure it was mere minutes. He gasped, those lips so perfectly flushed, lashes fluttering as he came. I groaned, squeezing my legs and pushing him further into me, letting him fill me.
He cleaned us with a bit of cloth, rubbing it down my stomach slowly, trying to keep the coarse fabric from scratching. I pulled him down, curling around him and setting my head on his chest. It didn't matter where we traveled to, his chest was always home to me. But my comfort, my happiness, was short lived.
"You must go, Judas."
"No. I'm staying. You wont have to do this alone. I'll be by your side throughout. I always will."
"No Judas, you have to go. You're place is with them now."
He got up, draped his roes back over himself, handing me mine. I shook my head. "No, please, my place is with you. It always has been."
"Go Judas. Let me get back to my prayers."
He knelt down and folded his hands. His lips started to move and I knew he wouldn't listen to me, I knew not to even try. Heartbroken I dressed, left, made my way silently through the streets and said my own prayer for the sun to never rise, for this day to never come.
Title: Sinking in a Gentle Pool of Wine
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Jesus/Judas
Disclaimer: If you don't like, don't read. No offence intended to anyone of any faith
Summary: A sleepless night in Gethsemane
Notes: Title is from a Jesus Christ Superstar song
I watched him kneeling there, robes flowing down his back, hair hanging down in his face. From his profile I could make out his lips moving behind his folded hands. They always moved when he prayed. I used to make fun of him, tell him he prayed like a little boy who thought the harder he prayed the better chance it'd be answered. He'd laugh, shake the hair out of his face, then just shrug. "Prayers, true prayers, ARE those of a little boy. True prayers are whispers of innocent hearts."
Innocent hearts..
Innocence was something he had. Something he somehow managed to keep despite his age or experience. He had the maturity of a man, the body of a man, but his heart, that was a little boy's. It had such grand dreams, hopes, wishes. And, just like a little boy, the thought that they were all impossible never entered his head. That's what I was for. I was his voice of reason, I always had been. I was the one who told him when things were going too far, when he was getting ahead of himself, when the crowd needed to be thinned out before it got too dangerous. But he wasn't listening to me now. He hadn't listened to me in quite sometime. Another voice had won out over my own.
I made my way through the bodies of the sleeping disciples, my old friends, kicking aside empty goblets and tiptoeing around spilled wine. They were sleeping the sleep of those that did not wish to wake, afraid of what the morning would bring. Only Jesus was awake. He didn't drown himself in oblivion like the rest of them. Instead, just like a little boy, he'd kept himself awake, as if refusing sleep would make the morning never come.
I stumbled, kicked one of the goblets and sent it rolling down the steps. A few of the others stirred but did not wake. But Jesus was not so oblivious. He was turned to me now, blue eyes, so big, so pure, blinking up at me slowly. His mouth was still parted, hands still folded in his prayer, and for a moment I forgot my breath.
"Surely the money they paid you could afford you a room at the inn."
It was a harsh cut, I had to take a step back to recover from it, my eyes turning to the floor. I heard the rustle of his robes as he stood, crossed the space to regard me.
"I didn't want the money."
"But you took it. How much was I worth?"
"Let's not speak of this?"
"Not speaking seems to be something you're good at. Don't say a word then run out and sell me like a whore.."
"Oh you're one to talk of whore's."
I stared back, I wouldn't let him shame me, not over this, not when I knew what he was. He flinched slightly, his man's body trying to hide his little boy's pride and the cut I'd just made to it. "Please Jesus," I said, my eyes filling with tears. "I did it for you."
"For me?"
"Yes. It was getting too much. You were in too deep. I don't think you realized how crazy things had gotten. But now the crowds will back down. They'll release you in a few months. They'll not harm you. Then things can go back to the way they were. We can start over. We can do it right this time. There are so many people left for us to help, Jesus."
"Help others? You're saying you did all this just to help others?"
"You know how I feel about charity."
"That's not the only reason you did it and you know it."
My eyes darted to Magdelene, sleeping peacefully in the corner, and the ever-present pain of jealousy twisted my insides once more. "Was I just to accept it?"
"She never wronged you, Judas."
"Didn't she?" I looked at him, tears falling from my eyes. "How can you be so blind. How can you care so much for others and never... never even give me a moment's notice? All you could see was her. The only one you listen to is her. She became your life and I.. I no longer had a place beside you."
His hand came up, wiping away my tears, pushing the hair out of my face like he always did. "You think she replaced you?"
"Didn't she?"
"Oh Judas," his lips were on my forehead, body pressed to mine in the darkened room. "No one could ever replace you, Judas. We've been together a long time, old friend. No one could ever take you from my heart."
"You wouldn't listen to me," I whispered again, the tears falling freely. "I tried.. so hard.. you just wouldn't listen. It was the only thing I knew to do.."
He pulled me to him, to the familiarity of his chest. How many times has my head rested here? In late nights, early mornings, in sun, in rain, in childhood, in adulthood. Always my head rested here, in mirth, in sorrow. Always. But now it was different. Now it was scented with her oils, imprinted with her fingers. My sanctuary, my happiness, my life, tainted with her, stolen away from me. "Leave," I whispered, my face buried in his robes. "Run with me. We'll take the money and flee far from here. Just us."
"I will not leave."
"You mean you will not leave her." He was stroking my hair, his lips on my scalp, the feeling so familiar, so right.
"No. I will not leave my fate. What comes will come. Running is not the way."
"They'll not harm you," I said again. That's what I had thought when I had went to them, what I believed. A few months then he'd be free, no harm done. But now.. I wasn't so sure. Caiaphas had motives I wasn't originally aware of. I did not trust that man. I did not trust any of them. But it couldn't be stopped now. None of it could. We had gotten in over our heads, Jesus and I, and he seemed reluctant to do anything but let it run it's course. He was always odd, saying strange things at strange times, it was a characteristic of his that I'd always found endearing, but now.. was he really making the right decision?
"Things will work out as they should," he said, his hands rubbing down my back, and I knew he was right. He was always right. Since the start of our friendship he'd always have the most bizarre notions and drag me along on his quests, things that seemed impossible, and it always worked out for the best. Always. And if he felt the same about this then he must be right. It would all work out for the best. It had to. I couldn't lose him. Not like this.
He was pulling at my robes, sliding them off. It was always slightly unexpected when he did this. It was like he didn't know how to ask, or couldn't form the words. So he just did what he wanted, very slowly, giving me every chance to protest or push him away. But I never did. I never would. I loved him far too much to deny him anything I had to give.
The ground was cold as I lay back, looking up at him in the faint light, only a few flickering torches still remained. As I watched him undress I realized I was nervous, scared, like it was my first time again, our first time. But he calmed me, stroked me, kissed my chest, letting his long hair tickle over it as he did. I sighed, my body arching up to his touch, tears still seeping from my eyes. He parted my legs and I held them for him, arms hooked behind my knees, watching him fumble in a satchel and pull out one of Magdelene's vials of oil. It was cold, the scent of jasmine stinging my already reddened eyes, but his touch was gentle, strong fingers slowly working inside me. "I do love you, Judas. I never stopped."
His words were almost too much, I had to bite my lip to keep quite lest I wake the others. He entered me slowly. He was always slow. I liked it that way. I could feel him better. I knew his every inch by heart, could feel it's shape, it's girth as he thrust in, filling me, loving me. My legs wrapped around his waist and I pulled him closer, his face against my neck, those lips moving, kissing, breathing me in. He lifted his mouth to kiss me. I pulled his hair down around us, over our faces, until there was nothing for us to see but each other, this kiss, his eyes, so blue, so innocent, so beautiful.
It seemed to last for hours, but I'm sure it was mere minutes. He gasped, those lips so perfectly flushed, lashes fluttering as he came. I groaned, squeezing my legs and pushing him further into me, letting him fill me.
He cleaned us with a bit of cloth, rubbing it down my stomach slowly, trying to keep the coarse fabric from scratching. I pulled him down, curling around him and setting my head on his chest. It didn't matter where we traveled to, his chest was always home to me. But my comfort, my happiness, was short lived.
"You must go, Judas."
"No. I'm staying. You wont have to do this alone. I'll be by your side throughout. I always will."
"No Judas, you have to go. You're place is with them now."
He got up, draped his roes back over himself, handing me mine. I shook my head. "No, please, my place is with you. It always has been."
"Go Judas. Let me get back to my prayers."
He knelt down and folded his hands. His lips started to move and I knew he wouldn't listen to me, I knew not to even try. Heartbroken I dressed, left, made my way silently through the streets and said my own prayer for the sun to never rise, for this day to never come.