A little ficlet I wrote, because it's an idea I've had for a long time and tonight the words have started flowing. Something I'd like to expand upon at some point, though I don't know if I will. I'm well aware some people won't be happy with the content of this fic, and you're entitled to think that - just as I am entitled to write this.

Lord.

The word rolls about in his mind, just as it always has done, which ever mouth it comes from. Tonight, it comes from the mouth he would hate if he could hate, the mouth he would love if he were allowed to admit that love was more than thegoodness he preached. Love is everything, every feeling and emotion curled into a writhing mess inside your soul and that is the everything he feels as he hears that word, from that mouth.

Lord.

His head snaps around and he blinks quickly, realising he has been lost in solitary thought. Judas is standing before him, gazing down solemnly, twisting his hands together in front of his chest. The sounds from the main room are echoing and filling the background in this, the smaller room where food is prepared. He's out here because the glances and words of comfort and praise from his followers have become too much, and he doesn't know why Judas has followed him.

"Lord."

Judas is stood close, so close and he's pretending he doesn't notice; he's pretending that it being his last night of freedom doesn't change anything, and he can't let go of everything he's been told his father believes, though all his father has ever told him is to love. It's never been love like this. He swallows hard and forces those thoughts to the back of his mind. "Yes?"

"I'm not going to betray you." Judas cannot meet his eyes, but he steps forward and lays a hand on his arm.

"I'm sorry," he can't say how truly sorry, he's a master of words but nothing quite covers this, "but you are."

Judas is a step closer to him now, so there is no space between them. But for the thin fabric, their skin would be touching. A few measures shorter than him, Judas' breath is hot and moist on his neck, and though he knows soon he will be in a better place, the fear is pounding within him until all he can do is feel. All focus is on the hot, moist spot of his neck, inches away from his follower's mouth.

"No," and it's the first time Judas has openly defied him. He's never had call to before. Judas' breathing quickens, he feels his heart beating faster and faster, the pressure building until it's a sickly sensation in his stomach and he's all too aware that he's only human; he reacts like a man.

"You will."

At first it isn't a kiss, it's just their lips pressed together in a comfort act. He almost pulls back, but instead finds his hands twisting the material of Judas' tunic, clenching his fists so tightly his fingernails dig into his skin, and pulling the other warm body close. All the sounds fade and neither can hear the men talking quietly in the next room, the world falls away to nothing but the feeling of their lips pressed together, their saliva mingling and breath and blood resonating loud in their ears.

In the second they pull apart, they both know how this is going to finish. It's the beginning of the end, and the beauty of a moment ago will descend into betrayal.