Joonmyun smiles as he watches Yifan draw closer, big hands tucked in his robes. Next to Joonmyun, Zitao bends down and presses a loaf of bread into his hands. "It's Passover," he says. "Eat."
"I will," Joonmyun says lightly. "Don't worry. I'll have time for it later."
Yifan stops short in front of Joonmyun. He has always been so tall, towering over Joonmyun ever since the first time they met, when Joonmyun had held out his hand and felt it dwarfed in Yifan's. Joonmyun had put his hands on Yifan's chest and healed his sickness. Back then, he had looked so happy. Now, Yifan's face is so cold, even when he bends down and presses his lips to Joonmyun's cheek.
The minute his mouth hits Joonmyun's face, brushes gently across the apple of his cheek, the whole world seems to turn in on itself. A parade of soldiers launches up into the private gardens Joonmyun and his followers had decided to use to pray before Passover, and Joonmyun finds his arms pinned behind his back.
"It's him," the soldier says gruffly. "The one Yifan kissed. He's the false prophet."
The last thing Joonmyun sees is Zitao's shocked, scared face, gazing at Yifan in horror as Joonmyun is dragged away.
As long as Joonmyun can remember, he has been able to speak to God. He recalls the first time he'd turned water into wine, when he was barely twenty, felt the power roll down his arms and push out through his hands. "This is the best wine I've ever tasted at a wedding," Baekhyun says, gazing cross-eyed into the bottom of his cup and tipping the last bit of it into his mouth before going back for more, red, red wine sloshing over the fine edges of every sharp edge of the wedding, drenching the entire scene in drunken merriment.
Since then, Joonmyun has done more miracles than he can count. He has healed the sick, fed the masses gathered for one of his teachings, made a blind man see.
Ever since he was young, his parents had treated him differently from his siblings. Jongin and Jongdae didn't understand why until the water into wine incident, and even then, they were still doubtful. "You?" Jongin said, eyes hard and unforgiving. "The Son of God? You forget that I am your brother. That I grew up with you. You're a good brother, but don't make me laugh."
Jongin doesn't even seem to understand what he's talking about. He's barely fourteen when Joonmyun does his first miracle at the wedding, and is mired in training to follow their father's footsteps as a carpenter. He did not have time for scholarly teachings or the annals of the Sanhedrin, nor of any of God's texts save for the Ten Commandments. He didn't much care for what Joonmyun did in his off time.
Joonmyun's Father always told him that the ones closest to him would be the ones most hard-hearted to believing the good message. It's not a sense of disappointment that Joonmyun feels, nor pity—just a burning desire to prove them wrong. I am the Son of God, he thinks, tucking his hands inside the outer layer of his robes. In time, they will see.
The first disciple Joonmyun takes on is Zitao the Baptist. Joonmyun is walking past the Sea of Galilee when Zitao catches something in Joonmyun's gaze, or maybe the way the light is glancing off Joonmyun's hair, because he nudges the man next to him, Sehun, and says, "Look, the Lamb of God!"
Joonmyun smiles. His sandals hit the sand of the beach. "Come," he says, "and follow me, and I will make you fishers of men."
It turns out that at first, Sehun thinks he means actual fishers of actual men. "So we're allowed to be homosexual?" he asks, staring down at the way his arm is twined through Zitao's.
Joonmyun bites his lip and gazes at them. Zitao is staring at him fondly, and from above, God remains curiously silent. Finally, Joonmyun says, "God is love, and does not judge one of His children for loving another, regardless of their gender." A big goofy grin spreads across Sehun's face. Joonmyun feels a burning warmth settle inside his ribcage.
He meets Yifan much later. Joonmyun goes to the synagogue every Saturday until he has gained enough notoriety to not be welcome anymore. The last Saturday he visits, Yifan is leaning against the outer wall of the synagogue, robes stained and sweaty, his hair pushed back against his face.
"Leprosy?" Joonmyun asks quietly, gazing up at him. Yifan shakes his head and takes Joonmyun's hand.
"A chest defect," Kris rasps, voice low and cumbersome, and Joonmyun places his hands on Yifan's chest and takes it all away.
The Garden of Gethsemane is beautiful. It's a pity that the last time Joonmyun gets to see it is like this, being carried out of the grounds in the middle of a mob of angry protestors. Angry that Joonmyun only committed the indescribable crime of telling everyone who he was.
Chanyeol had asked him once, before the end, how he had felt before he had proclaimed himself the Son of God. The twenty years that he had had to wait, biding his time, patient as the ocean, while he waited for a sign from the Father that his time had come.
"Was I supposed to feel anything?" Joonmyun had replied, faintly surprised. "How would you have felt?"
Chanyeol shrugged helplessly. Joonmyun foresaw then that Chanyeol would be one of the first to doubt his return, that he would have to slide his finger into the nail holes in Joonmyun's hands before he truly believed. Chanyeol asked, "Wouldn't it have made more sense to have you revealed from the beginning, so that the Pharisees and all the Sanhedrin could raise you up to be the leader of our people?"
Joonmyun shook his head. "God wanted me to grow up fully a man, while also being fully God," he said, smiling as mild and benign as ever. "After I grew up and received the call, having spent all my childhood and adolescent years in the midst of his people, then I would truly be able to spread His Good Word."
On the way down the mountain, Joonmyun loses both his sandals. Rocks bite into the bottoms of his feet, ripping through the hard callouses of the skin of his soles. He leaves a trail of blood all the way down the mountain. When he closes his eyes, he can see the look on Yifan's face, the one that had descended toward him during the moment of betrayal. So cold, Joonmyun thinks, tripping on a root. A particularly antagonistic soldier jabs at Joonmyun's back with the butt of his spear and Joonmyun stumbles forward.
From behind, he can hear Zitao crying. "Thirty silver pieces?" comes the overarching wail. The amount of money Yifan had been paid to sell Joonmyun out. Joonmyun thinks, with mild detachment, that Yifan should have asked for more for his trouble.
It begins to rain as they wind down to the foot of the mountain. Joonmyun remembers when he had calmed the storm in the Sea of Galilee, all of his disciples gathered around and cowering beneath the fishnets. "Peace," Joonmyun had said, "be still," and the water had turned as smooth as glass. The sun came out over the water like it was dawn again, casting a glowing light over the rest of the sea, and that afternoon, Zitao had stepped out of boat, faith strong and sturdy like a mighty oak, and walked on water.
Baekhyun is the one that he faces trial in front of. Joonmyun is wet and bloody and Baekhyun looks uncomfortable to see him like this, laid out bare for the people to see. "I like you," Baekhyun says slowly, "but even I cannot deny what the Sanhedrin have decreed."
"It was foretold," is all Joonmyun says. The cross is waiting.
4 thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory 4ever and ever amen
"I will," Joonmyun says lightly. "Don't worry. I'll have time for it later."
Yifan stops short in front of Joonmyun. He has always been so tall, towering over Joonmyun ever since the first time they met, when Joonmyun had held out his hand and felt it dwarfed in Yifan's. Joonmyun had put his hands on Yifan's chest and healed his sickness. Back then, he had looked so happy. Now, Yifan's face is so cold, even when he bends down and presses his lips to Joonmyun's cheek.
The minute his mouth hits Joonmyun's face, brushes gently across the apple of his cheek, the whole world seems to turn in on itself. A parade of soldiers launches up into the private gardens Joonmyun and his followers had decided to use to pray before Passover, and Joonmyun finds his arms pinned behind his back.
"It's him," the soldier says gruffly. "The one Yifan kissed. He's the false prophet."
The last thing Joonmyun sees is Zitao's shocked, scared face, gazing at Yifan in horror as Joonmyun is dragged away.
As long as Joonmyun can remember, he has been able to speak to God. He recalls the first time he'd turned water into wine, when he was barely twenty, felt the power roll down his arms and push out through his hands. "This is the best wine I've ever tasted at a wedding," Baekhyun says, gazing cross-eyed into the bottom of his cup and tipping the last bit of it into his mouth before going back for more, red, red wine sloshing over the fine edges of every sharp edge of the wedding, drenching the entire scene in drunken merriment.
Since then, Joonmyun has done more miracles than he can count. He has healed the sick, fed the masses gathered for one of his teachings, made a blind man see.
Ever since he was young, his parents had treated him differently from his siblings. Jongin and Jongdae didn't understand why until the water into wine incident, and even then, they were still doubtful. "You?" Jongin said, eyes hard and unforgiving. "The Son of God? You forget that I am your brother. That I grew up with you. You're a good brother, but don't make me laugh."
Jongin doesn't even seem to understand what he's talking about. He's barely fourteen when Joonmyun does his first miracle at the wedding, and is mired in training to follow their father's footsteps as a carpenter. He did not have time for scholarly teachings or the annals of the Sanhedrin, nor of any of God's texts save for the Ten Commandments. He didn't much care for what Joonmyun did in his off time.
Joonmyun's Father always told him that the ones closest to him would be the ones most hard-hearted to believing the good message. It's not a sense of disappointment that Joonmyun feels, nor pity—just a burning desire to prove them wrong. I am the Son of God, he thinks, tucking his hands inside the outer layer of his robes. In time, they will see.
The first disciple Joonmyun takes on is Zitao the Baptist. Joonmyun is walking past the Sea of Galilee when Zitao catches something in Joonmyun's gaze, or maybe the way the light is glancing off Joonmyun's hair, because he nudges the man next to him, Sehun, and says, "Look, the Lamb of God!"
Joonmyun smiles. His sandals hit the sand of the beach. "Come," he says, "and follow me, and I will make you fishers of men."
It turns out that at first, Sehun thinks he means actual fishers of actual men. "So we're allowed to be homosexual?" he asks, staring down at the way his arm is twined through Zitao's.
Joonmyun bites his lip and gazes at them. Zitao is staring at him fondly, and from above, God remains curiously silent. Finally, Joonmyun says, "God is love, and does not judge one of His children for loving another, regardless of their gender." A big goofy grin spreads across Sehun's face. Joonmyun feels a burning warmth settle inside his ribcage.
He meets Yifan much later. Joonmyun goes to the synagogue every Saturday until he has gained enough notoriety to not be welcome anymore. The last Saturday he visits, Yifan is leaning against the outer wall of the synagogue, robes stained and sweaty, his hair pushed back against his face.
"Leprosy?" Joonmyun asks quietly, gazing up at him. Yifan shakes his head and takes Joonmyun's hand.
"A chest defect," Kris rasps, voice low and cumbersome, and Joonmyun places his hands on Yifan's chest and takes it all away.
The Garden of Gethsemane is beautiful. It's a pity that the last time Joonmyun gets to see it is like this, being carried out of the grounds in the middle of a mob of angry protestors. Angry that Joonmyun only committed the indescribable crime of telling everyone who he was.
Chanyeol had asked him once, before the end, how he had felt before he had proclaimed himself the Son of God. The twenty years that he had had to wait, biding his time, patient as the ocean, while he waited for a sign from the Father that his time had come.
"Was I supposed to feel anything?" Joonmyun had replied, faintly surprised. "How would you have felt?"
Chanyeol shrugged helplessly. Joonmyun foresaw then that Chanyeol would be one of the first to doubt his return, that he would have to slide his finger into the nail holes in Joonmyun's hands before he truly believed. Chanyeol asked, "Wouldn't it have made more sense to have you revealed from the beginning, so that the Pharisees and all the Sanhedrin could raise you up to be the leader of our people?"
Joonmyun shook his head. "God wanted me to grow up fully a man, while also being fully God," he said, smiling as mild and benign as ever. "After I grew up and received the call, having spent all my childhood and adolescent years in the midst of his people, then I would truly be able to spread His Good Word."
On the way down the mountain, Joonmyun loses both his sandals. Rocks bite into the bottoms of his feet, ripping through the hard callouses of the skin of his soles. He leaves a trail of blood all the way down the mountain. When he closes his eyes, he can see the look on Yifan's face, the one that had descended toward him during the moment of betrayal. So cold, Joonmyun thinks, tripping on a root. A particularly antagonistic soldier jabs at Joonmyun's back with the butt of his spear and Joonmyun stumbles forward.
From behind, he can hear Zitao crying. "Thirty silver pieces?" comes the overarching wail. The amount of money Yifan had been paid to sell Joonmyun out. Joonmyun thinks, with mild detachment, that Yifan should have asked for more for his trouble.
It begins to rain as they wind down to the foot of the mountain. Joonmyun remembers when he had calmed the storm in the Sea of Galilee, all of his disciples gathered around and cowering beneath the fishnets. "Peace," Joonmyun had said, "be still," and the water had turned as smooth as glass. The sun came out over the water like it was dawn again, casting a glowing light over the rest of the sea, and that afternoon, Zitao had stepped out of boat, faith strong and sturdy like a mighty oak, and walked on water.
Baekhyun is the one that he faces trial in front of. Joonmyun is wet and bloody and Baekhyun looks uncomfortable to see him like this, laid out bare for the people to see. "I like you," Baekhyun says slowly, "but even I cannot deny what the Sanhedrin have decreed."
"It was foretold," is all Joonmyun says. The cross is waiting.