Slashy goodness people! Unless that offends, in which case you think I'm sick and you're leaving NOW so you don't end up just like me. Italics are direct thoughts.

Imperfection by Slytheriness

Disclaimer: the only thing I own here is my obsessive obsession with Jesus Christ Superstar. (It's like an obsession, only more so)

Rated: PG-13



'You only have to die'

As the words softly ended, the last of the apostles disappeared into the darkness. Possibly shamed by his words…but another part of him whispered or off to plan the next fight where I can't see it. They were so reckless, so blood-thirsty, careening headlong into a future darker then they could imagine. They had all left him now, but, he thought bitterly, they barely listen when they're here anyway.

For a moment the misery overwhelmed him, and he wanted nothing more than to curl up tightly and hide from everything- especially from the apostles' war-mongering. But from Mary's love too… she wanted so much more from him than he could give and though she never asked, the weight of her silent plea only added to his burden.

But mostly he wanted an escape from Judas' endless bickering. Ironically, the only person who seemed to listen to him at the moment was only doing so to pick another argument. In a time not so long ago he would have been there now for him.

He tried to push those thoughts away, closing his eyes and searching for the confidence his apostles sought, forcing taut muscles to relax a little. It was so tiring now. He was so tired. Do I really have to keep it up, even when they aren't watching?

As soon as the thought entered his head, he became aware of a prickling down his spine that told him someone was watching…and he had a good idea who. Turning to look over his right shoulder, head tilted upwards his gaze met Judas', who still leant against the pillar. Judas broke it almost immediately, dark eyes flickering guiltily downwards as if he had done some wrong. However he seemed to decide on something, and began to make his way down.

If only I could explain…he won't understand. He'll just want to protect me regardless. Lately he had barely been left alone for five minutes, and especially not alone with Judas. As if he would ever hurt him. If only the others would stay away now and let them talk, let him explain that he didn't like Mary in 'that' way, reassure him about his place in Jesus' life…maybe even try to explain what was happening, and why it had to…

If I could get a word in edge-ways. If Judas would just listen. If, if, if.

He turned away again, feeling the barely relaxed muscles begin to tense again in preparation for another argument. Yet somehow he couldn't shake the feeling of being an errant school-child waiting to be punished, as Judas' footsteps rang out and paused, replaced the sound of hands and feet on rungs. They picked up again when he reached the ground, hesitantly as he faced the silent and unmoving Jesus. An awkward few seconds stretched out before Jesus began defensively, before the unspoken attack was worded.

'They're just head-strong'.

And since when have I attacked first? This won't help anything…Why does he confuse me so much?

He glanced up to meet Judas' reaction, and was caught off guard by the silence that met him, and the slight hurt pushed away to be replaced by something indefinable in those dark eyes. Guilt washed over him, mixing with the hurt of his own. He found his hand on Judas' arm before he realised what he was doing, an automatic reaction. He meant his next words to be a confident statement, but somewhere between his thought and speech, his feelings mingled in, and he heard a questioning plea in his voice that he hoped Judas didn't.

'It will be alright'.

He knew it was a vain hope, to hide from the man who had travelled at his side for three years. Argue with me. Tell me I'm the blind leading the blind. Tell me I'm a fool. Even I know I'm lying.

Judas seemed as tense as him, but refused to be drawn out. Swallowing, he tilted his head slightly.


A smile came from somewhere inside and Judas smiled in return- not his usual dark smirk, but a smile of genuine fondness. For one perfect moment they connected again, the endless bickering forgotten, and he had his closest friend back. Instinctively he reached out to kiss his friend's cheek affectionately.

Judas' head turned as he did so- whether deliberate or accidental he couldn't tell, had no time to consider as their lips met. They snapped apart so swiftly that it could barely have been a second's contact; another time they would have laughed it off.

God…god what is this? Jesus' mind and heart were racing, and he knew he was staring, knew in fact, that his expression matched Judas'. They were frozen in a tableau, as if afraid that the first to move would make this too real. It was Judas who moved first eventually, he's braver than I am. I should stop this…I shouldn't-

The thought was cut off as lips claimed his own for a second time; certainly with more meaning than the first. He felt himself respond tentatively, felt his hand reach up to brush Judas' cheek, fingers grazing softly on the dark stubble. He felt hands rest gently on his hips, warmth burning through the thin material and deepened the kiss automatically, blood racing. So this is real lust.

He had felt it some few times before, but never like this, it was as if- no. He couldn't love him, him, a man, in that way. It wasn't allowed. Sometimes the heart should tell the mind to stay at home and stop interfering. His mind and heart were pulling in opposite directions-

Footsteps sounded at that moment, and they pulled apart again with instinctive fear, heads snapping round to find the intruder. Mary appeared from around the corner, and paused, obviously taking in their flushed cheeks and guilty behaviour. How can she not see it?

She might have, he realised, but her immediate reaction was to suspect Judas of something. Eying only Judas suspiciously, she walked towards Jesus, and reached out her hand expectantly.

'You should come back to the group'.

There was definite emphasis on the 'you' as she looked straight at him. Inwardly he winced at the pronoun, surely killing off anything left of the connection he and Judas had shared only seconds ago. The moment had evaporated into the darkening light, and sure enough, as he looked back at Judas the dark eyes and expression were completely closed off, with no sign of…

Was that a bad thing? It didn't feel bad, it felt…He knew if he went with Mary now it would be the right thing, it would deliberately snub what he had done because that was wrong.

But he wasn't.

He was backing away from both of them, wishing desperately that he could break into a run. He needed peace, to pray, he needed guidance.

'No. I'm going to the temple- alone'

He added the last word as he saw Mary move to complain. She couldn't be here, not now, she was too perceptive and these feelings were too strong, too close to the surface. He kept walking away, feet carrying him automatically whilst his mind refused to concentrate.

It was wrong, but it felt right. He shouldn't have, he wasn't allowed to but he had anyway. Until now his purpose had been clear. The last few minutes had ripped apart those ideas, set his feelings into a turmoil he had never experienced. God…my mind is in darkness now…

When he saw the rabble at his temple, he almost smiled. Here was a clear enemy; they were wrong, he was right. His tumultuous emotions found an outlet in outrage against what they were doing, pushing the darker issues from his mind. He could ignore this, it wouldn't matter. He couldn't let it.

His anguish rang out into the temple walls.

'My temple should be a house of prayer!'


I'm not sure the JCS fandom is that big, so I guess this is more for love than reviews.

Who am I tryna kid, I'm a review whore! Drop me a line and I'll love you forever! And it will encourage me to write more JCS stuff rubs hands together evilly, and you know there isn't enough out there…