Categories > Theatre > Jesus Christ Superstar
Hi people! Just a note, this fan fiction is based on the Pinewood Studio production, made for film. Various sources say it was made in 1999/2000, so take your pick. It's a must see, by the way. Anyhow, WARNING: If you are offended by Homosexual Relationships then I suggest you discontinue reading this, or keep going at your own discretion. Remember, it's A PLAY, not the actual bible. And finally, I do not own Jesus Christ Superstar or the Characters. They belong to Andrew Lloyd Webber and Tim Rice. :)
Jesus x Judas
Judas x Simon implied
***********************
"Christ you know I love you, did you see I waved? I believe in you and God, so tell me that I'm saved..."
Judas sat far away from the crowd, away from the firelight. A mate had let them use the property for the night and now the bonfire was going strong and the noise of the laughing apostles as they cracked open cans of beer was almost overpowering. Even in the silence. It was so tempting, the urge to get up and dance, to sing, to get drunk, and to laugh even... In short, it was tempting to ignore all the problems in the world. Judas sighed and took a long swig of his Bourbon and Cola. They could play act for now, but it was going to go terribly wrong .Judas could feel it. He laughed, weakly. All these fools were dancing around like show ponies and getting smashed off their faces. Ah, couldn't they see what they were doing? If they kept drawing attention to themselves, no amount of alcohol would be able to fix the consequences. It was all too easy to see. Soon the priests would take a stand. They'd get their crime, oh yes. He could see it so clearly. The wheels would be set in motion and there would be no way to stop it. They would come, they would bring their armies and their guns and there would be a fight - futile of course- and after that? They'd take Him and... Judas tossed his empty can over his shoulder and buried his face in his hands, desperately trying to keep the tears back. Well, he didn't want to think about what would come next.
Judas forced himself to look up. He kept trying to tell himself that he was being paranoid, but every time he snuck a glance at the bonfire proceedings, he became less sure. There would be no way they'd stay out of the fire with that damned Zealot running around. Automatically he sought out the blond spikes that seemed to exude the confidence and open rebellion of their bearer, who was darting around Jesus and the others to dish out beer and propaganda. With a start, he realised that his instinctive search seemed awfully familiar.
"Damn you Simon." He muttered under his breath, searching around his feet for another can.
Looking at him from a distance, Judas found it easier to see why Jesus was tolerant of his rowdy behaviour and his adolescent obsession with fighting... As much as Judas disliked - no- despised the Zealot he had to admit that he was... Charismatic. The brunette ran a hand through his short hair, hating himself. Who was he kidding with charisma? Simon was gorgeous. Simply fucking gorgeous. That had to be it... None of the other apostles would dream of starting a riot with the Government...Not only did he have a knack for getting Judas in trouble, but the Zealot could get away with murder, it seemed, and only wind up with a slap on his beautifully tanned wrist. The Brat.
"Yo, Iscariot!"
Judas gritted his teeth and leaned back on the tree, indolently.
"Zealotes."
Simon appeared oblivious to the resentment.
"Whatcha doin'?"
"I was enjoying the peace, until some nosy pisshead came and interrupted me. What about you, Simon? What are you doing?" Despite the pang of guilt he felt, Judas had to admit that the little pout that appered on the other man's lips was delicious.
The Zealot held out his gloved hands in surrender, his brown eyes defensive.
"Yo, easy man." He shrugged. "Just looking out for you..."
Judas sniggered. "Oh Yeah...? Well don't."
Simon's confidence in his posture appeared to melt a little. "Fine." He took a few steps backwards, before turning and walking back to the bonfire.
Judas was a little surprised. The little punk was actually hurt! He cracked another can and smirked. He didn't hate Simon because the Zealot didn't like men (and the Zealot's late night conquests made that abundantly clear)...He was just jealous that the troubled youth had managed to crawl in and get a special place in Jesus' affections.
Heh, I'll give you 'touch me Jesus'...
It was kind of a pity that Simon was straight. Judas could think of a hundred assorted, pleasant things he'd like to do to the slender, muscled man if only he could get the Zealot into his apartment...That could have been some sweet make up sex...
The brunette snapped out of his reverie. Though there were a lot of things Judas would love to do to Simon, the list was insignificantly small in comparison to what he wanted to do with Jesus. Sometimes it used to seem like Jesus felt the same way, but since the '12 chosen'... Judas, the right hand man? Whatever... Travelling in a group was fun, but Judas just missed the old times when there were less people to contend with. Being demoted was mildly unpleasant at the best of times...
And then there was that whore...
At the sound of soft footsteps, Judas groaned and rolled his eyes.
"Simon! Piss off, will you?"
"You shouldn't give him such a hard time, my friend."
Judas' throat immediately tightened up.
"I, uh... He was giving me a hard time..." He looked up slowly into Jesus' face. What kind of an excuse was THAT? The fair haired man smiled sadly.
"Don't make excuses. You treat him like this all the time." He paused thoughtfully. "Why do you hate him, Judas?"
The apostle squirmed uncomfortably. "I... I just do." He bit his lip. "I'm jealous..."
Jesus knelt beside him and placed his hand on his shoulder. "Judas, please be honest with me..."
"I hate him... I hate him because he'll destroy you." Judas paused, his breath ragged. "He'll destroy you. And I couldn't live with that."
His master sighed, his eyes piercingly sad.
"He won't be the one that destroys me."
Judas closed his eyes tightly, trying to keep back his emotions.
"He will."
"You know he won't."
Judas couldn't stop the tears from burning at his eyes.
"He will, okay!?"
He couldn't take it anymore. Tipping over his half empty can, he ran into the grove of trees, leaning against a large trunk, breath coming in huge gasps. And then he saw.
When Jesus caught up with him, his own voice was breaking.
"It's you Judas. You will destroy me."
His fallen friend's hands tore at the bark in desperation.
"No!"
Jesus took his shoulder, gently.
"You've realised. Haven't you?"
Judas sobbed a horrible, inhuman sound. He turned around slowly.
"I don't want to do it."
Jesus' own tears had begun and flowed down his face, unstopped.
"I know. We both have things to do..." He reached out and touched Judas' face tenderly. "We just have to be brave and know that we're doing the right thing."
With that, he leaned forward and kissed Judas softly on the lips, making their tears and their breath mingle together. After what seemed like an eternity they moved apart slightly, their foreheads touching and Jesus holding his apostle's face in his hands.
"This won't be the last time..."
Jesus x Judas
Judas x Simon implied
***********************
"Christ you know I love you, did you see I waved? I believe in you and God, so tell me that I'm saved..."
Judas sat far away from the crowd, away from the firelight. A mate had let them use the property for the night and now the bonfire was going strong and the noise of the laughing apostles as they cracked open cans of beer was almost overpowering. Even in the silence. It was so tempting, the urge to get up and dance, to sing, to get drunk, and to laugh even... In short, it was tempting to ignore all the problems in the world. Judas sighed and took a long swig of his Bourbon and Cola. They could play act for now, but it was going to go terribly wrong .Judas could feel it. He laughed, weakly. All these fools were dancing around like show ponies and getting smashed off their faces. Ah, couldn't they see what they were doing? If they kept drawing attention to themselves, no amount of alcohol would be able to fix the consequences. It was all too easy to see. Soon the priests would take a stand. They'd get their crime, oh yes. He could see it so clearly. The wheels would be set in motion and there would be no way to stop it. They would come, they would bring their armies and their guns and there would be a fight - futile of course- and after that? They'd take Him and... Judas tossed his empty can over his shoulder and buried his face in his hands, desperately trying to keep the tears back. Well, he didn't want to think about what would come next.
Judas forced himself to look up. He kept trying to tell himself that he was being paranoid, but every time he snuck a glance at the bonfire proceedings, he became less sure. There would be no way they'd stay out of the fire with that damned Zealot running around. Automatically he sought out the blond spikes that seemed to exude the confidence and open rebellion of their bearer, who was darting around Jesus and the others to dish out beer and propaganda. With a start, he realised that his instinctive search seemed awfully familiar.
"Damn you Simon." He muttered under his breath, searching around his feet for another can.
Looking at him from a distance, Judas found it easier to see why Jesus was tolerant of his rowdy behaviour and his adolescent obsession with fighting... As much as Judas disliked - no- despised the Zealot he had to admit that he was... Charismatic. The brunette ran a hand through his short hair, hating himself. Who was he kidding with charisma? Simon was gorgeous. Simply fucking gorgeous. That had to be it... None of the other apostles would dream of starting a riot with the Government...Not only did he have a knack for getting Judas in trouble, but the Zealot could get away with murder, it seemed, and only wind up with a slap on his beautifully tanned wrist. The Brat.
"Yo, Iscariot!"
Judas gritted his teeth and leaned back on the tree, indolently.
"Zealotes."
Simon appeared oblivious to the resentment.
"Whatcha doin'?"
"I was enjoying the peace, until some nosy pisshead came and interrupted me. What about you, Simon? What are you doing?" Despite the pang of guilt he felt, Judas had to admit that the little pout that appered on the other man's lips was delicious.
The Zealot held out his gloved hands in surrender, his brown eyes defensive.
"Yo, easy man." He shrugged. "Just looking out for you..."
Judas sniggered. "Oh Yeah...? Well don't."
Simon's confidence in his posture appeared to melt a little. "Fine." He took a few steps backwards, before turning and walking back to the bonfire.
Judas was a little surprised. The little punk was actually hurt! He cracked another can and smirked. He didn't hate Simon because the Zealot didn't like men (and the Zealot's late night conquests made that abundantly clear)...He was just jealous that the troubled youth had managed to crawl in and get a special place in Jesus' affections.
Heh, I'll give you 'touch me Jesus'...
It was kind of a pity that Simon was straight. Judas could think of a hundred assorted, pleasant things he'd like to do to the slender, muscled man if only he could get the Zealot into his apartment...That could have been some sweet make up sex...
The brunette snapped out of his reverie. Though there were a lot of things Judas would love to do to Simon, the list was insignificantly small in comparison to what he wanted to do with Jesus. Sometimes it used to seem like Jesus felt the same way, but since the '12 chosen'... Judas, the right hand man? Whatever... Travelling in a group was fun, but Judas just missed the old times when there were less people to contend with. Being demoted was mildly unpleasant at the best of times...
And then there was that whore...
At the sound of soft footsteps, Judas groaned and rolled his eyes.
"Simon! Piss off, will you?"
"You shouldn't give him such a hard time, my friend."
Judas' throat immediately tightened up.
"I, uh... He was giving me a hard time..." He looked up slowly into Jesus' face. What kind of an excuse was THAT? The fair haired man smiled sadly.
"Don't make excuses. You treat him like this all the time." He paused thoughtfully. "Why do you hate him, Judas?"
The apostle squirmed uncomfortably. "I... I just do." He bit his lip. "I'm jealous..."
Jesus knelt beside him and placed his hand on his shoulder. "Judas, please be honest with me..."
"I hate him... I hate him because he'll destroy you." Judas paused, his breath ragged. "He'll destroy you. And I couldn't live with that."
His master sighed, his eyes piercingly sad.
"He won't be the one that destroys me."
Judas closed his eyes tightly, trying to keep back his emotions.
"He will."
"You know he won't."
Judas couldn't stop the tears from burning at his eyes.
"He will, okay!?"
He couldn't take it anymore. Tipping over his half empty can, he ran into the grove of trees, leaning against a large trunk, breath coming in huge gasps. And then he saw.
When Jesus caught up with him, his own voice was breaking.
"It's you Judas. You will destroy me."
His fallen friend's hands tore at the bark in desperation.
"No!"
Jesus took his shoulder, gently.
"You've realised. Haven't you?"
Judas sobbed a horrible, inhuman sound. He turned around slowly.
"I don't want to do it."
Jesus' own tears had begun and flowed down his face, unstopped.
"I know. We both have things to do..." He reached out and touched Judas' face tenderly. "We just have to be brave and know that we're doing the right thing."
With that, he leaned forward and kissed Judas softly on the lips, making their tears and their breath mingle together. After what seemed like an eternity they moved apart slightly, their foreheads touching and Jesus holding his apostle's face in his hands.
"This won't be the last time..."
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