The clouds cleared way to expose a marine blue sky and something something sun. All that light could not outshine the glow coming off Jesus and Buddha, the joy coming off them. They walked through the streets of Tachikawa with their arms around each other's shoulders and whispering unknowns into each other's ears. Passersby gave them uncomfortable glares but the two paid no mind; those strangers only wished they had a piece of their bliss.

A few days earlier, during one of their open and honest talks, Jesus confessed he was tired of wearing the silk screen print shirts and stiff, generic jeans.

"I found this ad," Jesus said, "for a sale at that discount clothing store. I just want to buy one new shirt." He drew out the one for emphasis and endearment. "Please?" Drawing out his vowels and whining.

Jesus put on his best adorably-helpless-puppy face. Buddha knew Jesus was just goading him on, and knew he couldn't refuse. "Fine."

"Yes!" Jesus shot his arms up in victory. These small gestures of loosening his grip on their budget and blah were little victories for Buddha in his own right.

After deep introspection Buddha could only accomplish in solitude, he realized he had grown very anxious on Earth. To let go of his worries would relax the home environment and himself. This once again calm Buddha also became more approachable. Jesus took advantage of this in his own sort of innocent way. Like asking for money to buy a new item of clothing, or to eat out together. Small things. Jesus knew both their limits. He also took more liberties with the physical contact they made. He snuck in small brushes on Buddha's hand, playfully squeezing his knee, resting his head on his shoulder. Jesus would have stopped if Buddha gave any indication that this made him uncomfortable. But Jesus could feel Buddha give in to his touches.

They strolled through the streets to their local bargain clothing store. Jesus knew he was on a tight budget, so he could buy only one thing, but he still loved to try on clothes and pose like a male model. Buddha approached the entrance with dread, knowing Jesus would try and spend more than they could afford. Seeing Jesus' triumphant smile, with his impossibly immaculate teeth, like his soul, and his face… he couldn't resist him.

Racks full of cheap second hand clothes outlined the perimeter of the store with bins in the center, with mass-produced jeans and a rainbow palette of cotton crew t-shirts. Buddha could almost see the halo around Jesus' head sparkle. He rushed to the racks and ran through the men's slacks. He stopped on one pair, let out a small gasp, and yanked it out.

"Buddha, these would look so good on you!" It was a slim fitting pair of warm yellow khakis, marked down 50 percent. Buddha's eyes went blank.

"I thought you wanted to buy something for yourself. We can't afford to buy clothes for me, too."

"C'mon," Jesus whined, "you don't own any nice pants." He instantly regretted saying that as he could see he had offended Buddha. "Can you just try them on, for me?" Jesus flashed his same irresistible baby face.

Ugh, he's doing it again. Fine, I'll just try them on. "For you." Buddha grabbed the pants from him and went into the dressing room, not pleased to do this. Jesus noticed but it didn't bother him much. He went perusing around the store for clothes he'd try on himself.

Buddha checked himself out in the mirror in the dressing room, inspecting the close fit of the pants. They were much snugger than he was accustomed to. He hiked his knees up to his chest and moved his hips around to check what range of motion they'd allow. The fabric had a decent amount of give without looking cheap or overly casual. The pants were not uncomfortable but Buddha felt uncomfortable in them.

"Buddha, come out of there! I want to see you!"

A flash of warm rushed through Buddha's face and down his stomach. He couldn't place why he felt so silly in the pants. He shuffled out the dressing room anyway, his chin half-tucked into his neck. Jesus' whole face grew wide when he saw him in khakis. He traced the contours of the slim silhouette of his legs with his eyes, slowly moving up from Buddha's ankles to his waist. Buddha stood stiff, his feet rooted in the linoleum floor, unmovable. The curtain to the dressing room was still open; Jesus noted the mirror behind Buddha and leaned his side. He got a view of him from behind. Jesus' smile turned down. His gaze was fixed on Buddha's butt, the only reason Jesus pestered him into trying the pants on. His 90s style jeans didn't do it proper justice. Buddha looked up and saw Jesus staring into the dressing room, wearing a new crisp white linen shirt. What he was staring at he wasn't sure of.

"Uh, Jesus?"

Jesus half-heard him, still staring at his butt. His lids fell heavy and his eyes were glazed. He muttered to himself, "Buddha…"

Buddha wondered what was wrong with Jesus. He spun around to see what Jesus was staring at and saw nothing but himself. It dawned on him that Jesus was staring at him. When the image in the mirror shifted Jesus snapped back into reality. Did he notice me checking out his ass? Oh no, this is too soon! Buddha turned around, unable to work out what he was feeling other than disbelief. He tried to compose himself.

"I, I think I'd like to buy these pants…"

For dinner they ate instant rice out of plastic bowls sitting in their laps. They say facing one another, so close their knees were touching. Buddha wore his new pants and Jesus wore his new shirt. They reached a compromise. Since they went over their budget, Jesus and Buddha had to subsist on cheap, ready-to-make foods.

"Don't get any stains on that shirt, Jesus. It's dry clean only."

Jesus paused from eating to respond, "I knooow, Buddha. You shouldn't have let me buy this." He playfully nudged at his thigh.

"But you really seemed to like it, and you looked really good in it, so I—"

"Really?" Jesus gazed into Buddha's eyes, waiting for reassurance. He had never noticed before he had sprinkles of emerald and honey in his otherwise brown irises. "You think this looks good on me?"

"Well, yes. I figured you thought these pants looked good on me, so…" their eyes traveled down to ogle each other's new purchases, then met again.

"They do, they, you know, fit well." Jesus shyly turned his head away; he felt a little embarrassed admitting it.

"But they feel tight around the waist." Buddha lifted his shirt to show the small flab hanging over the waistband. "Look at this! The saints always try and keep me fat, you know that."

"You're not fat, Buddha! You're just fine. Besides, I…" Jesus could hardly believe the words were about the slip through his lips. He looked away, struggling to be fully open and honest.

Buddha set his bowl to the side and leaned in. "You what?"

"I… I think it's cute. It's… soft." He finally found the strength to bring his head back up. Buddha was just inches from his face.

"No, not really. I wish I had a body like yours. Toned, but sturdy."

Both their faced were flushed red and their breaths quickened. "Buddha," Jesus moaned.

Buddha was speechless. They sat looking at each other, afraid to make a move and hoping the other would. In an instant, Jesus' lips were pressed on Buddha's. He heaved and his chest trembled with the exhales. He opened his mouth to let Jesus' in. Jesus shifted his weight forward and Buddha surrendered under the force of Jesus' perfect, slim yet sturdy body.

Their hands roamed across each other's faces and torsos. They were both too excited to let them settle in one place or to try to come up for breath. Their bodies ached with ecstasy as they sucked on each others' lips and wrestled with their tongues. Buddha could feel his pants getting tighter. Why are the saints fattening me up now? It was uncomfortable to feel so engorged but was finally tasting Jesus and grabbing at his waist and feeling his hot breath as he let out moans that he ignored it. He realized the saints did not plump him up when Jesus started rubbing at his crotch. Buddha pulled his head away and looked down to see his old friend get manhandled by his new lover through his new pants. He suddenly felt like a spectator of some unholy act. In panic he shoved him away.

"JESUS, GET OFF MY DICK!" Buddha forced the words out with his labored breathing.

Jesus sat back in shock and hurt. "What's wrong? Did I hurt you?"

"We're saints! I'm a holy man!" Buddha yelled partly at Jesus, mostly at himself. "Physical desires lead me astray from enlightenment. My life's work was built upon freeing yourself from carnal attachments to see truth."

"I thought you wanted me." Jesus' jaw trembled while he bit down on his lower lip. His saline tears burned his eyes. Buddha had made Jesus cry again. He could almost see his heart shatter into pieces that fell on the floor with his tears. Buddha's heart broke with his. He searched his once pure mind for words to say, but nothing came to mind. He didn't know what else to say except, "I need to go meditate."

He grabbed a sweater and headed out the apartment. Before walking away, he stood outside the shut door and could hear his only friend wail and sob. He took in large gulps of air and looked up to keep himself from crying.

He sat cross legged at the nearest Buddhist temple with his back straight on the hard granite floor and sucked in the smoke from the sandalwood incense through his nostrils. He breathed it in at a slow, steady pace to calm his heart and clear his mind. To his shock, his mind hd a mind of his own. He found himself worrying that the monks would either recognize him from New Year's or that they'd recognize him as the Buddha himself. Before he could savor the space created inside himself when he let the thoughts float away, images of Jesus were projected onto the backs of his eyelids. All his silly smiles, stupid faces, earnest rants about his drama shows and all his memories of their time together played on repeat. The strong scent of the sandalwood reminded him of Jesus. He always took him to be the more feminine of the two but he had a musky, masculine scent that was more intoxicating than the wine he made from water. He saw the sunlight shimmer off his hair and dazzle in his eyes. He couldn't shove the thoughts out and they would not pass. There was no escape. All Buddha could do was meditate on the visions of this beautiful god man. In the fraction of a second between one image and another he grasped the answer he'd been searching for. He was enlightened. Again. He shot up off the ground in victory and his halo burst forth with conspicuous flame.

He proclaimed out loud, "all of this time I thought spiritual enlightenment could only be achieved by one person by himself. I did not consider that the joining of two souls in carnal ecstasy can bring out one spiritual being rising in consciousness! I have been causing myself suffering by denying my desires for the man I love, the man I crave and hunger for. He kindles the flames in my loins that burn to catch fire with his. Together they blaze and create such energy it illuminates our souls and grants us the opportunity to gain a deeper understand of ourselves and each other!" Throughout Buddha's monologue the monks gawked at him and cowered in the corner. "Together we can reach nirvana! I know where I belong. I belong with Jesus." His halo faded as he made his way out the temple. He wished the monks a good evening, oblivious to the spectacle he made.

He returned to the apartment complex. It was now late, so he unlocked and opened the door as quietly as he could so's not to wake his resting future lover. He tiptoed inside and saw him sleeping on the floor alone. He could see that he wasn't wearing a shirt, and was reminded Jesus was not just a vehicle to reach enlightenment, but a man of sexy flesh and desire that scorched his bones. The tightness in his pants returned. I can't believe I'm about to do this…

Buddha went into the bathroom and sat on the toilet. He controlled his breath and whispered encouragement to himself as he took off his snug khakis and pulled out his penis. The veins running along its periphery protruded through the skin of his cock. He felt it throb with every beat of his heart. The slightest touch sent shivers down his down and through his cock. He grabbed the economy-sized bottle of off brand body lotion on the floor and pumped out a handful. He grasped his boner and rubbed along the shaft. Buddha hadn't relieved himself sexually in millennia; he had to bite on his hand to muffle his moans and whimpers. He continued to jerk himself off, speeding up the rhythm and biting down harder. The pain of his teeth digging into his skin became unbearable but he was so close to the edge. He couldn't hold it back; he came for the first time in thousands of years. He released his teeth's grip and let out a bellowing howl. He leaned back on the tank and felt his feel-good neurotransmitters release crashing waves of pleasure through his body. After sitting in this hallowed space between consciousness and mental alertness, he sat up to see he left a sticky mess on the floor and sink. He cleaned up his DNA, and went to join Jesus in his dreams.