Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

1.

 When Jesus opened his coffee shop in the morning, everything else in the world seemed to melt away. He smiled to himself as he propped open a door with a stand up chalk board that has today’s specials written on it in swirling chalk letters. Jesus had taken up calligraphy after his mother, Mary, had mentioned she loved how the swirling letters looked on her Mother’s Day card. 

Jesus soaks up the sun in this brief moment opening the shop. As he headed inside he did a last second check glancing over the tables looking for imperfections. When he saw none he went behind the shops counter waiting for his first customer of the day.

Jesus heard some rustling from behind him and glanced over, only to see a flustered Judas tying an apron around his waist, shit halfway tucked into his pants and hair put haphazardly into a ponytail. Judas caught Jesus’s eye and cringed. 

“I’m late I know-

“It’s fine Judas,” Jesus couldn’t help but chuckle to himself, Judas had been making a habit of being late recently, and he couldn’t help but worry about his best friend. 

“I promise it won’t happen again, it’s just been a weird week” Judas said sheepishly, wondering over to the prep station for the small selection of baked goods they sold at the cafe

“Judas really, it’s alright, you can always talk to me too. Remember?” Jesus replied, sympathy seeps into his voice

Judas shook his head “yeah yeah whatever. Heard from your Bio-Dad lately?” 

Jesus paused, surprised by the low blow of a distraction, and prepared a response. Luckily for him though, a customer came in and saved him from talking about that honestly imperfect part of his life. 

Said customer walked to the counter was tall, copper hair falling gracefully to his shoulders in loose curls. He was dressed in a black suit and walked with authority. 

As he came forward, a realization of who this man was struck Jesus . It was his estranged half brother Lucifer!

Jesus had never met the man. When Mary mentioned Jesus's biological father, it was never in a kind light. He was a very controlling man, and she “Didn't want to raise her son that way.” So she took them both away, Jesus never wondered about his biological father, he had a perfectly good step dad. Joseph was everything God wasn’t; kind.

But Jesus knew Lucifer’s face from the billboards strung across town. Displaying Lucifer's proud face and the gross and inappropriate almost inappropriate advertisement for Hell. 

The country’s biggest, most secure and brutal Prison, owned God himself. Hell wasn't the only corrupt business God owned, and all of them made Jesus sick to his stomach.

When Lucifer got to the counter, Jesus swallowed his anxiety.

 “Hi, welcome to Bless This Mess Cafe, would you like to hear the specials today?” 

Lucifer almost seemed bored looking at the chalkboard menu proudly displayed above jesus,

“No. I’ll take a medium caramel macchiato. Heavy whip instead of whole milk with two extra shots of espresso.”

If Jesus distantly found it funny that the vice  of Hell was ordering a caramel macchiato. He wrote the order shakily and asked

 “would you like a blueberry muffin today? They’re half off on account that they’re a day old.” 

 Lucifer finally looked Jesus in the eyes at the moment and frowned, taking off his sunglasses. 

“Sorry do I know you?” Ignoring the blueberry muffins entirely. 

Jesus didn’t know how to reply, should he lie? If he told the truth would his father find out? How would his mother feel? But also he hated lying, it never felt right when he did. But this might be the one situation when he could need to.

Through all this thought and anxiety Lucifer huffed a sigh “well? I’m talking to you.” 

Jesus then realized, rather abruptly, that he had just stood there frozen staring at his estranged brother. 

“I don’t think you do, no, sorry” he managed, gritting his teeth after. 

Lucifer shrugged and handed his card over “I’ll just take the coffee thank you.”

Jesus nodded and swiped the card handing back over, grateful that Lucifer sat down at a table far from the counter after. He turned to Judas obvious anxiety on his face .

“Judas- that was. Judas he-“ Jesus stammered out  

Judas tilted his head curiously “dude you should go take a break- I’ll handle the next few customers you seemed freaked out.” 

Jesus nodded and quickly left for the back alley to take a breather, leaning against the cold brick wall. What was he supposed to do? Just interact with his estranged brother, who obviously did not recognize him, like a normal customer? This was all too much. He needed to call his mother, Mary always knew what to do.

As the phone rang Jesus fiddled with a stray piece of hair. Mary picked up on the third ring and answered in a cheerful tone. “Hi honey! Aren't you at work right now?” 

Jesus sighed with relief hearing his mother's voice, she was always a source of respite in stressful times.

“Yeah I'm at work right now, I just need your opinion? Advice? I don't know I'm just-” Jesus said, the panic from his interaction with his brother rising in his throat. Mary cut him off before he could work himself up anymore.

“Jesus, sweetie calm down, take a deep breath. Remember four in, hold for five and out for six,” Jesus followed his mother’s instruction and filled his lungs slowly, keeping time with her voice.

“Okay, now tell me what happened, take your time.” Mary said calmly after he stopped working himself into a panic. Jesus gathered his thoughts and started to tell her what happened. 

“I opened the shop this morning and the first customer to come in, mom, it was Lucifer, my brother- he didn't recognize me but he works for god and I don't know what to do.” jesus took another shuddering breath and continued

 “he even asked if we had met before and i said no. should i tell him? What if he tells God- what do i do then?” the panic began to rise in his throat again. 

Mary remained silent on the other end of the line for a few moments then took a long breath in.

“Jesus did I ever tell you about when I first visited your father after I found out I was having you? Before the lawyers and us having to move?” she asked, voice calm and clear. 

Jesus shook his head before realizing his mother couldn't see him then responded with a quite “no” 

“Well,” she began, 

“When I was there, I had this big fight with your father, and I was storming out of that skyscraper he calls a home before I was stopped by this teenager. He couldn't have been older than 16 at the time. Anyways he stopped me and he told me to get as far away as I possibly could” 

Jesus stared at the bright blue sky above him as he listened, trying to imagine his mother that long ago. 

“When I asked him why, he told me he didn't want to see another one of his siblings go through what he had growing up. He also told me his name was Lucifer.” 

Jesus took a short breath in “Do you think he still feels that way? I mean he works so closely with God, maybe he changed. It has been 23 years.” 

“I mean there's really only one way to find out” Mary replies softly “And remember, your father can't do anything to you. You and I will be okay. I love you” 

“It doesn't make it any less scary” he retorts, before giving up and replying with a warm “I love you too mom” 

He could hear the smile in her voice when she replied “Whatever decision you come to will be good, I trust you, call me if you need more advice or just want to talk to your favorite mother in the world”

 Jesus couldn't help but laugh “You're my only mother,” 

“Exactly! Now go back to work before Judas gets swarmed by angry customers” 

Jesus groaned and stood up “I can't wait until Peter and Andrew get back, me and Judas are super overwhelmed” 

“Where did they go this time?” Mary asks, amused. 

“Visiting their parents in chicago, we have another week until they get back.”

“Well you’d better get back to work then, goodbye honey” 

“Bye mom” And with that Jesus hung up and let himself have one more moment leaning against the cold brick before heading back inside, to deal with no doubt packed cafe. 

Chapter Text

2. Jesus’s no good very bad terrible day. 

Before Jesus walked into the cafe, he took a deep breath. He sometimes forgot that having an anxiety disorder made him lose his breathe, and fuck did he feel light headed. 

He pulled open the back door to the cafe from the sun lit alley, and made his way through the kitchen back to the register. Where as he expected, Judas stood, attending a long line of customers as well as a single baker with little to no social skills could. 

Jesus lightly brushed the back of Judas's back with a hand and gave him a soft smile when the man jumped and turned to look at him in surprise. Clearly he had already let the stress of customer interaction get to him and he was miles away.

“I’ve got this, go back to the kitchen you’re fine” 

The relief in judas’s eyes was obvious and he let out a sigh of relief 

“If one more Karen tells me that they’re on a ‘Keto diet’ and need ‘heavy cream’ in there SOY latte, I’m going to SCREAM” Judas whispers as he quickly walks away from the register.

Jesus can’t help but let a snicker escape his lips as the next customer makes their way up to the counter. 

As Jesus takes their order, he can’t help but glance across his coffee shop searching for his long lost half-brother, a small part hoping the man had already left. To his disappointment, Lucifer remained at his small table in the corner of the cafe, laptop open and typing away. 

Jesus wrote down the person's order they were rattling on about at him, trying to multitask customer service, and a plan for dealing with his new older brother. As he swiped the order from his iPad to the small screen in the kitchen that displayed all incoming orders, a thought occurred to him.

He confirmed one part of his plan when he glanced once again at his brother, the man was almost done with his iced coffee. The second part of his plan, get Judas to make another one on the house. Then have himself, Jesus, deliver it to Lucifer with a note.

It was all coming together, nothing could possibly go wrong, hed just drop the coffee off at his table with the note that had his name and number and a short explanation on it and it’d be all good to go- 

Or it would be if said brother wasn’t staring back at him and slowly packing up his stuff. Shit. Jesus realized he’d been making unblinking, uncomfortable, definitely creepy eye contact with the guy for at least a minute by now.  

And now that “guy” was quickly leaving the cafe, bag slung haphazardly over his shoulder.

Jesus, In a stunning stroke of genius, jumped the counter like a complete maniac. Beginning his chase after Lucifer. 

Before he left the building he did have a single moment of clarity which allowed him to yell to the kitchen as he left.

“Judas take over the counter! I trust you!” 

To which he heard a shrill and betrayed,

“what the fuck !” 

Jesus sprinted through the front doors and down the street after the suited man, who was now fast walking, almost jogging, down the street away from the perceived creep who was staring him down in the cafe. 

Could this day get any weirder? Lucifer was now clearly trying to get rid of the threat, that was his admittedly idiotic brother. 

‘If only he knew I was his brother’ Jesus thought longingly, then in another stroke of genius, yelled down the street. 

 “Hey! Lucifer! I’m your half brother! It’s me, Jesus!” 

To which the other replied with 

“Leave me the fuck alone! I have pepper spray and I am not afraid to use it” 

Okay so that plan hadn’t worked out either, time for plan C, just catch up to the guy and explain the situation more clearly. Surly he’d listen, and this would all be a funny memory. 

As Jesus rounded a corner into an alleyway, he suddenly realized with full certainty what pepper spray felt like. And tasted like. And smelled like. Today was a bad day, today was a very bad, burning-acid-in-his-eyes day. 

“ Fuck me! What in the ever loving fuck!” Was all he could manage as he crumpled against a wall gasping for air, “I was just trying to, fuck, talk to you,” Jesus stammered trying to dab away the spray with his shirt, lost as to what to really do when sprayed directly in the face. Sure he’d been to protests before, and sure he’d been to seminars and taken community led classes on self defense and how to react to being attacked. But nothing really prepared him for the real thing, and it hurt like hell. 

As Jesus sat in misery cradling his head in his hands he heard a shuffle, then there was a hand on his shoulder.

“Here- I have water rinse out your eyes. Who are you? Why are you following me.” Lucifer's voice sounded oddly apologetic, Jesus couldn’t see his face so he couldn’t tell for sure if he was being earnest in his guilt. 

And It wasn’t that Jesus wasn’t grateful for the chance to explain himself to this man, but also he had just been pepper sprayed in the face. So his answer was not as put together or graceful as he would have liked, when he blurted out,

“Oh fuck off you dick- pepper spraying me- who does that!” 

“I can leave, you know.” Came the reply, although Lucifer did press a cold water bottle into Jesus’s hand. Maybe the guy really did feel guilty for pepper spraying him. 

Jesus accepted it and started rinsing out his eyes, the feeling of dryness that came with the water was better than the burning from the pepper spray, but still not comfortable. It was hard to see any positives in the moment, this was a very bad day. 

“Now who are you,” Lucifer inquired, a sharpness in his voice that would intimidate any man, even if he hadn’t pepper sprayed them moments beforehand.

“My name is Jesus, like I said before,” Jesus couldn’t help being a bit petty in his reply “You briefly met my mother when you were like, 16?” He replied blinking his eyes, testing out how they felt. Still burning slightly but certainly less painful than before. 

“I highly doubt that. What was her name” came the aggressive, but curious reply.

“Mary- she was like, 20 at the time. She has brown curly hair, she’s Palestinian? Short, has a really nice smile,” Jesus listed as he washed his hands off with the remaining water.

Lucifer pauses and then frowns. “Okay. I do know who you’re talking about, but she was having a girl. If she was having a boy there would have been no way you two would be away from my father, he’d never let a son get away from him.”

Most of this reply seemed to be directed at Lucifer himself, as he looked at the sky and crossed his arms. Defensiveness and curiosity peeking out from behind the aggression he has so prominently displayed before. 

But for Jesus this moment suddenly clicked several things into place, and he froze.

“I’m transgender” He blurted out looking at Lucifer now. 

His brother's eyes widened and he broke into a smile “Now that’s- that’s- a fun irony isn’t it?”  He chuckles to himself. Lucifer then did something unexpected and held out his hand. 

“Names Lucifer, You said your name was Jesus right?” 

Jesus looked him up and down, surprised for a lot of reasons, firstly that this man had to be told around six times what his damn name was, that the Ceo of a prison wasn't being openly transphobic in the seconds that came after his sudden coming out, and also what the hell he had just said about his Biological father. The implications alone were only just sinking in, and to say Jesus was excited to learn more would be an incredibly incorrect statement. 

But to say that Jesus was intensely curious about what the fuck Lucifer had just said would be, unfortunately accurate and true. 

Jesus managed to snap out of his surprise after a few seconds staring, mouth agape, and shook the mans’ hand.

“Yeah, Uh. What did you mean we wouldn’t have been able to get away if I was born a boy?” He managed to stammer out. There had only been a few times Jesus had felt lucky that he turned out to be trans, now was beginning to look like one of them. 

Lucifer sighed and took his hand away, frown deepening as he did so. 

“This is going to be a hard, awkward conversation kid. Especially after getting pepper sprayed in the face- sorry about that. Thought you were a protester or something- but that’s not the point. We should go sit down somewhere and talk,” 

Jesus thought for a second and debated telling Lucifer that he actually did think that his occupation was cruel and disgusting, but decided against it in the moment. Now was not the time. 

“Yeah. Okay Uhm. We could go back to my cafe, we have a break room?” He says, grasping for a solution. It suddenly hits him after he says that, that he had left Judas alone manning the counter and making coffee and serving the bakery counter all by himself. 

“Shit- I actually really need to get back there soon too,” He added, guilt creeping from the back of his mind to the front. 

Lucifer nodded, seemingly in agreement “that’s as a good a place as any, I guess.”

Jesus decided to ignore the underhanded insult and instead sighed sharply, pushing air out his lungs trying to alleviate some of the pressure that seemed to be building there. 

“Let’s go then.” And with that, he started walking back to his cafe. Face red with irritation, skin still burning, and eyes watering more with every second.

Jesus didn’t know if his eyes were watering more from the pepper spray or the emotions of the day, but either way a good cry sounded good right now. Too bad he had to be an adult and walk back to his place of business and sit down to have a real conversation with this man he somehow simultaneously knew and didn’t know at all. 

As they made their way down the street, Jesus became acutely aware of the simultaneous silence and noise of the streets around them, and again pushed down the anxiety and emotion welling in his mind. His therapist was going to have a field day with this. 

‘you’re welcome Cathy’ Jesus thought, trying not to imagine her reaction and the immediate panic attack he knew he would have in her office. Why was this day so awful, connecting with family should be fun, why did everything feel so gross. 

Was gross even the appropriate word for something this monumental? Jesus didn’t know, it didn’t feel right, but he couldn’t think of anything else to describe the slick, heavy,  sickening feeling making a home in his stomach as he walked. 

Before he could work himself up anymore in the thought spiral he had so easily tossed himself into, he was in front of his cafe. 

Jesus opened the door and saw the mess of customers, some waiting impatiently, and some sat at tables with their coffee and snacks. He peered through the crowd to find Judas at the counter, being lectured by what must of been a sixty year old woman, about how she wanted her latte now and not in fifteen minutes. 

The guilt that Jesus had felt creeping in his mind came full force and he turned to Lucifer quickly,

“I have to deal with this- the break room is past the counter and the blue door with the rainbow name plate that says ‘Staff only’” 

Lucifer glances at the lady, who's now yelling at Judas, and nods.

“Fair enough, good luck” He says and makes his way past the counter, Jesus right behind him. They split after the counter and Jesus comes up besides Judas, still red in the face from irritation and gently moves him aside. 

“Hi ma’am, I’m the owner here, and I'd appreciate it if you would please stop yelling at my one and only employee currently on shift and leave the premises.” Jesus says in a sickeningly sweet tone, looking the woman directly in the eyes. A fraction of his current mess of emotions slipping out and landing in her direction. 

The woman sputtered for a moment, obviously taken aback and looked Jesus up and down, offense clear on her face. 

“I hope you know you just lost a valued customer! I will never come back to this establishment, and I will be reporting you to- to the police! For kicking out a senior citizen” She sputtered, threat falling on deaf ears as Jesus nodded along, smiling all the while. 

“You go ahead and do that ma’am. Now kindly leave my premises before I escort you.” He replies, keeping his voice the same tone as before. He pretended not to notice not only Judas staring at him but also around a dozen other customers. 

He then turned to Judas, ignoring the customer who was now muttering something about free speech and her right to be in this cafe, and gave him an apologetic smile.

“I am so, so, sorry for ditching you again but I have to go talk to someone- I promise you I’ll explain it after we close. You have my full permission to kick out anyone causing you trouble, and to offer discounts and free items for the bakery for anyone who’s waiting a long time- also you’re absolutely getting paid extra for today-“ 

Before Jesus could offer up his blood and flesh as compensation, Judas interrupted him with a hand on his shoulder and a concerned look. He paused, letting the moment breathe. He then brushed some hair behind Jesus’s ear and put on his best ‘this is gonna be okay’ smile and says; 

“It’s all good, just try not to freak out okay? We can close early too, but go and deal with whatever’s going on, it’s okay. Promise”

Jesus didn’t think he’d ever be more grateful for Judas than that moment. 

“You’re my best friend.” Jesus managed, I love you was implied. All their friends teased the two for acting as if they were dating, even married, and Jesus supposed he could see it as he looked into Judas's eyes. 

Judas smiles and nodded  “I know, now fuck off would ya? I’ve got a business to single handedly run” 

Jesus let himself laugh before breaking away from Judas, and the stares of around seventeen customers, and made his way to the staff room. 

He opened the door hesitantly, taking a breath before entering and walked inside. Jesus was greeted with the sight of Lucifer not so subtly   looking around the small staff kitchen and what was a poor excuse for a break room. 

It wasn’t that the break room was terrible, but it certainly was the product of a small business. With a small worn out couch pressed against a wall and table with four mismatched chairs across from it, and a tiny tv hanging above it on an off-white wall. 

Lucifer looked up from the drawer he was inspecting that was filled with mismatched silverware and paused. 

“Sorry- got bored,” Was his poor but earnest excuse. 

“No it’s fine-“ Jesus sighed. He was sighing a lot these days. “Do you want some coffee? Water or something? We’ve got tea too if you’re into that.” He says, wandering into the kitchen as well and pulling out a mug for himself. 

“I’m alright, thank you.” Lucifer replies, and Jesus pretends to ignore him looking into the cabinet when he opens it.

Lucifer makes his way to the small table shoved up against the wall and sits down, the old chair he sits in creaks harshly when he settles into it and jesus can’t help but smile at the look of discomfort on the man's face. Serves him right, pepper spraying him like that. 

Jesus silently went about making his tea, preparing himself for the conversation that was about to ensue. 

Chapter Text

Jesus had to admit, when he started out the day, he didn't expect himself to be making tea for his estranged half brother by 10 am. But here he was, In the crappy back room the cafe called a break room, asking if Lucifer wanted sugar in his tea. 

“I told you I didn’t need any tea, thank you” Lucifer replies, eyeing a mug in Jesus’s hand. 

Jesus then realized he had completely zoned out while making his own tea, and had poured two cups. He startled a bit and looked down at the steaming mugs and shrugged.

“Too late now. Do you want sugar or milk?” 

“Do you have vanilla creamer?” Lucifer asked, seemingly resigning himself to tea. 

“In... in tea?” Jesus asked, catching up with the conversation. Lucifer frowned and shrugged defensively. 

“It’s not that weird- I just like vanilla.” Lucifer retorts, crossing his arms in weak retaliation to the confused and surprised stare his brother was now giving him. 

“Yeah no, It’s fine here.” Jesus stumbles over his words, opening the refrigerator and pulling out a plastic container of vanilla creamer, and sliding it to Lucifer alongside his tea. He took a final glance at the tea and creamer and shook his head, finally taking a seat across from Lucifer. 

“So. How do we start this? I guess?” Jesus says and rubs the back of his neck reflexively, other hand worrying away at the handle on his mug. His thumb alternated between picking at the small chip that had formed in the glossy coat of paint on the cup, and rubbing anxiously at the corner where the handle met the cup itself. 

Lucifer put the creamer on the table again and huffed, seemingly at a loss for words. Jesus couldn’t help but notice him bouncing his leg anxiously under the table, and wondered if they shared more in common than just a father. 

“I suppose, we should start with any questions you have.” Lucifer replies after a moment, slipping on a mask of indifference and calm. “What do you want to know? About me, our father, maybe some of our siblings too?” 

Jesus frowned and nodded, not able to tear his eyes away from the tea steaming away on the table. He thought for a moment more, and looked back up as a question made it's way through the haze of anxiety that was clouding his thoughts.

“Is our dads name actually god? Like. Isn’t that a concept? A god is just a term for something a collection of people worship right?” Jesus asks, trying to start things easily. 

Luckily, this warrants a laugh from the other side of the table and Lucifer shakes his head. 

“No, the narcissistic bastard named himself that. His parents named him Gerry.” Lucifer's shoulder visibly relaxes as he says this, a smile playing on his lips. He crosses his arms and leans back in the chair as he takes a sip of his tea. 

Jesus smiles back, relief flooding his system, as this honestly intimidating force, relaxes across from him. 

“I mean, I thought it was a bit weird. I just figured he must have gotten his narcissism from somewhere ya know?” Jesus says and shrugs “My first guess was his parents. Speaking of which, are they like. Alive? Are they nice?”

Jesus’s voice filled with a mix of curiosity and hope as he asked the question. He leaned forward a bit to rest his elbow on the table, trying to mirror and encourage the relaxed energy Lucifer was predominantly displaying at the moment. 

Lucifer chews at his lip for a second in thought then sighs, frowning as he formulates his response. 

“Only my- I guess our grandmother is alive at the moment, and from what I can remember of her and grandfather they were kind. I guess Gerry had some sort of falling out with them, I haven’t seen or talked to them since, well since I was around 10.” Lucifer can’t hide the flash of sadness that crosses his face, but he does quickly tuck it away, back behind his mask of indifference and confidence. 

Jesus decides to ignore the gnawing regret of not being able to meet his grandparents, that is trying to claw to the front of his mind, and instead asks another question. 

“So I know about you, and Gabriel. He’s a model right?” Jesus asks, stemming the flow of anxiety with more information. 

Lucifer nods when Jesus mentions the model part and prepares an answer. To Jesus’s eyes, he thinks about his next words very carefully before replying. 

“You actually probably know about a few more. Dad has this, well if I’m being frank, quite disgusting idea of having the perfect heir.” He says and frowns “It started with the first son he had- who is actually uh, his daughter now. Your older sister Eve.” Lucifer offers a small smile, trying to brush off how awkward this was all coming across on his part. 

To Jesus, this was just exciting. “Wait- wait you’re telling me I have an older, trans sister?” He says, excitement only building in his voice. 

“By blood yes- legally no, she emancipated herself from the family when she turned 17, ran away actually. Not quite sure where she is right now.” Lucifer thinks for a moment, before shrugging and moving on. “Point is, father wanted an heir, and when Eve was no longer the perfect son, he decided to keep trying. He first left Eve’s mother, claiming she had poisoned his chances with her, and had me next.” 

Jesus had all but forgotten about his tea at this point and was hanging on every word. 

“And I was grand and all that, but he wanted an insurance plan. So he had Gabriel, and then Michael. My mother, bless her heart.” He pauses, his voice wearing at the end of the statement. “Died, when she had Michael. I don’t think dear old dad ever forgave Michael for that.” He says and takes another sip of tea, staring at the table now. 

“I’m sorry for your loss, that’s. That’s terrible,” Jesus says, trying his best to offer some comfort towards Lucifer. 

“Right. Well that was a long time ago.” Lucifer replies, cutting the cold atmosphere short with the statement. “After Michael, I guess he tried again and had Uriel. I still don’t know who Uriel's mother is, Dad just brought him home one day. Finally, he had you.” 

“So who’s his heir? You said he kept having sons to make the perfect heir right?” Jesus asks leaning forward, realizing his family just became much larger than he thought it was in less than five minutes. “You’re the oldest too, shouldn’t it be you?” 

Lucifer cringes at this statement and sighs “that is, a very long story for another time.” 

Lucifer took a long sip of tea, and avoided looking directly at Jesus during the impenetrable silence that followed his statement. 

“Anyways. What time is it? I promised my partner I’d pick up the kids from school today” Lucifer says and stands up, looking ruffled and u sure of his movements. He quickly brings his hand up to check his watch and sighs deeply. “I’m going to be late-“ 

“Wait- hold on you have kids? And a wife?” Jesus asks, catching back up to the conversation and processing what Lucifer just said. 

Lucifer pauses and frowns “ partner , not wife,” he then breaks into a smile “but yes, I have two children, Adrian and Calliope. My partners name is Charlie,” 

“That’s, that's amazing?? How come I didn’t know about them, wouldn’t it be all over the news and stuff?” Jesus asks, recalling all the times he’d seen his brother in the tabloids. 

Lucifer shakes his head “My family’s absence from the media is a very deliberate choice.” He glances at his watch again and cringes “here- take this it's my personal number, call me on the weekend between 1-5pm no earlier or later unless it is an emergency.” He says, sliding a card across the table. 

Jesus picked up the card and briefly admired the loopy silver lettering on the shiny cardstock square, then looked back up. 

“It was good to meet you finally. I’m sorry our father has worked his way into your life again.” Lucifer says, walking towards the door. “On the bright side, I am genuinely excited to get to know you. And I’m sorry I pepper sprayed you” 

Jesus sat in stunned silence for a few seconds and finally replied, in the only way a 22 year old could. “It's cool, you have great aim. I’ll text you?” 

Lucifer nods and smiles again, before ducking out the door from the small break room and presumably out of the cafè. 

Jesus sat turning the card slowly over in his hand, feeling the edge of the paper and staring at the empty space his brother had just resided. 

“This is. The worst” Jesus whispers to himself, and slowly lowers his head onto the table.

Jesus doesn’t know how long he stayed like that, head laying on the table, contemplating the fact that his father was trying to breed the perfect heir to his notoriously evil company, and the fact that he had more siblings than he previously thought.

Jesus didn’t even know where to begin to start unpacking the enormous pile of questions and thoughts sitting in his mind. His head felt heavy as he stared blankly at the wall behind the table, his worry’s drifting from the intrusive thought of “what if evil is genetic” to “how should I feel talking to my prision owning half brother” to “queer has to be genetic in my family” and finally to “do I have to seek out my other siblings? How many girls have been born that God- no- Gerry had and abandoned” 

Jesus slowly got up and went around the break room, pushing any thoughts about his new found family down, and started slowly going through and cleaning things as he went. Clearing his mind the best he could. As he finished wiping down the counter he turned his attention to the honestly gross old microwave and got to work on that,  taking everything that he could clean out of it and sterilizing the whole thing. 

Jesus had always found the act of cleaning calming, the act of taking apart his immediate surroundings and leaving them pristine after made him feel better after a stressful day. Maybe it had something to do with it not needing much thought, and the methodical motions taking the place of any anxious fidgeting that could have occurred otherwise. 

Jesus continued in his cleaning, moving from the microwave to the small refrigerator next to the counter. He still felt the tingling after effects of the pepper spray on his skin, in the back of his mind he knew that with every minute he didn’t take a shower or thoroughly clean his face it would become more irritated.

Although he found cleaning so methodically calming, Jesus found it hard to turn that focus on himself. Showering was already an ordeal as it was, he barely had a morning routine and his hair was a long and tangled mess on the best of days. So though his face burned and itches he couldn’t bring himself to just wash it off, the irritation pushed to the back of his mind. 

Panic attacks showed themselves differently for everyone, and sometimes showed themselves differently for Jesus. The dissociation felt normal at this point, staring into the metal reflection of himself in the sink, Jesus couldn’t quite connect the image to his own body as he looked. The irritation had really set in, and his face was puffy and red. His eyes were bloodshot and he looked like shit. 

The feeling of floating outside of his own body settled a little when he felt the warm pressure of a hand on his arm. He looked up and saw Judas, smiling, but obviously concerned. Jesus noticed how open his body language was, and smiled a little. Judas was always so soft and careful around him, so kind and caring. He really was perfect. 

“I’m not perfect,” Jesus thought to himself, that had really been hammered in today. Between his brother regarding him with such surprise and now knowing his father hated his very being, well. It was quite the blow to his already dying self esteem. 

Jesus knew vaguely that he shouldn’t care what that narcissistic overlord of capitalism thinks about him, seeing as he would never meet the man and hated him. But it still hurt, to know that one of the people who created you, and purposely brought you into this world hated your very being so much he’d rather send you away than ever even meet you. 

“Hey, Jesus, buddy come on, your face looks like shit right now, we gotta check that out.”  Judas once again cut into his thoughts. 

“Hey.” Jesus says hoarsely, forcing himself to make eye contact, his eyes felt heavy and it was like the world was slowly crushing him under it's weight. 

“Hey,” Judas took a moment to share a comforting smile, and squeezed Jesus' arm reassuringly. Before saying, in a no bull shit tone, “Okay but seriously why is your face so fucked.” 

“Got pepper sprayed” Jesus says and shrugs, reaching up to prod his face, Judas quickly takes Jesus' hand before he can reach it. 

“I’m sorry what?” Judas asks, surprise and then anger taking over his face in quick succession,  “By who? What the fuck ?” 

“My brother, Lucifer” Jesus says, trying not to act too phased as he says it, Pushing the fact that he just spent who knows how long in an anxiety spiral, obsessively cleaning the tiny kitchen of their staff room. 

“What do you mean your brother ?” Judas asks incredulously, shock now covering his expression. 

“I think I’m going home for the day, what time is it?” Jesus asks, avoiding the question entirely. 

“3, I just finished closing, I thought you left honestly- have you been here since- fuck it was like 12 when you came in here” Judas says checking his phone quickly “sorry I closed early, got way overwhelmed with customers.” He says apologetically

Jesus shrugs and sighs “it’s fine, we didn’t lose that much time today.” He leans against the counter and looks back into the sink. 

“Are we still going to have the Queer Youth Community Innitiative movie night? Or should I send out an email postponing it?” Judas asks, moving his hand to rub Jesus’s back in slow circles. 

Jesus had completely forgotten about the movie night. The problem with running a cafe and a community center all in one place. A lot of events all the time. 

Jesus shook his head and groaned “I totally forgot. No it should be fine, I think I just need a shower and maybe some sleep, where scheduled for 6 right?” He asks, his hands slowly finding something to pick at on the counter, anxiety winding its way into his chest again. 

Judas nods in affirmative, and smiles sympathetically. “Luckily movie nights are pretty easy- also Mathew, James and Thomas are coming so they can help with stuff.”

This did comfort Jesus a bit, he loved his friends a lot, and it was always exciting to see them. They always understood when he felt like this, and were always willing to accommodate and help him. 

“Yeah, okay then I’ll be fine. Just need a break.” Jesus mutters, mostly to himself. He pushes himself from the counter and shakes out his arms 

“Alright, do you mind starting tomorrow's prep and I’ll be down in like, an hour to help?” Jesus asks Judas, trying to switch from anxious exhausted childhood friend mode to boss who owns a business mode. 

Judas nods and shrugs “yeah, I just have to make some batter and run the washer, take any time you need. Movie night is easy to set up too so it’s really fine.” 

Jesus nods and pats Judas’s arm, trying to create somewhat of an impression that he was okay now. 

“Thanks, I’ll owe you one. See ya in a few hours, come get me if you need  anything.” Jesus says and makes his way out of the break room. 

One of the things Jesus most appreciated about his cafe, was that he lived directly above it. It also made it great for community building, as there was an empty apartment attached next to his that he used for classes and community events. 

Jesus made his way upstairs to his apartment and unlocked the door, walking into the dark entryway. He shucked off his shoes and threw his coat on the couch as he made his way pst the kitchen and through the living room down the hall to the bathroom. 

Slowly he went inside and finished undressing, sparing a look in the mirror. He really did look like shit, his face was so puffy and red. He was definitely going to break out after this. He sighed and got in the shower, allowing the hot water to wash over his exhausted muscles. It was amazing how much energy emotions could sap out of a person. 

When he finished showering, spending most of the time there with his head leaned against a wall with his eyes closed, arms limp at his side. And went to his room, when he decidedly passed the fuck out. 

This really was a never ending terrible no good very bad day. 

Chapter Text

Honestly, a movie night with some queer youth was exactly what Jesus needed that day.

After getting up from his nap, Jesus helped set up the projector, seating and snacks in the next door apartment. Every time that he worked with his community in that space, he felt like he was doing something good. The cafe was his job sure, but helping people? That was his work.

As he set up the popcorn station a slow trickle of people began to come into the room, some being dropped off by parents and others coming with a gaggle of friends. All the people there seemed happy, and Jesus was grateful for that.

As Jesus was setting up the last preparations and gave the announcement that the movie would be starting in ten minutes, he heard someone yell his name from the door.

“Jesus! Dude!” The tone was deep and gravelly from years of smoking and general disregard for one’s own vocal chords. Which meant one thing, Michael, James and Thomas had finally arrived.

Jesus looked and broke into a smile when he saw Michael with an arm casually swung over james’ shoulder. James gave a little wave and smiled broadly as Thomas waved him over.

Jesus made his way through the room full of kids and teens who where snacking, lounging and chatting and greeted his friends at the doorway.

“Hey! I’m so glad y’all made it, it’s been too long” Jesus can’t help but chuckle as he's pulled into a hug by Thomas.

“It’s been like a week, you sentimental dork,” James replies and ruffles Jesus’s hair.

“After today's events it could’ve been years. I have had the worst day.” Jesus sigh, melting into his friends' touch.

“I even had to close the shop” Judas cuts in, entering the conversation. Jesus can hear the smile on his lips, and huffs into Thomas’s shoulder.

All three of his newly arrived friends gasp in mock horror and surprise.

“What are you talking about Judy, Jesus would never close his precious cafe early” Thomas says sarcastically, clutching Jesus closer.

“I got pepper sprayed, leave me alone” Jesus says with a fake sigh. Which surprised Thomas enough that he actually lets go of him, and holds him at arm's length suddenly looking Jesus over like he’s a hurt puppy.

This elicits an actual gasp from James who sputters out a surprised “Are you okay?!”

Followed by an equally surprised if not incredibly angry “what the fuck. Who did it?” From Michael.

“My long lost brother, Lucifer, CEO of hell!” Jesus replies in a sarcastically cheery tone. He can’t help it but he laughs, and by the expression on everyone’s faces that wasn’t the right response.

The conversation has suddenly come to a complete stop and James reaches out a tentative hand towards Jesus’s shoulder.

“Do you wanna get wine drunk after the movie and talk?” Thomas asks, concern written across his face.

Judas laughs this time and shakes his head,

“fuck it let’s get wine drunk tonight and have a party,” He declares and slings an arm across Jesus’s shoulders, not so subtly trying to change the tone of the conversation.

Jesus nods along and leans into Judas, crossing his arms and looking at the ground, trying to suppress the sudden heat that was flooding his cheeks.

“It’s been a while since we had a boys night, why not” Jesus replies and shrugs.

“Then it’s settled, now let’s grab some popcorn and make sure these kids aren’t smooching during the movie.” Michael cuts in, following Judas’s lead in changing the tone.

The group came to an agreement and wandered to where the movie had been set up and all took a seat.

The movie went well, Jesus only had to ask one pair of teens to keep their hands to themselves, and only a few others to keep the chatter down. The movie was titanic, as voted at the end of last week's movie.

As the night came to a close and all the kids had left, Jesus and his friends began to clean up the space, music playing in the background as they went.

Near the end Judas, who had claimed he was grabbing a trash bag, comes into the main room triumphantly holding three bottles of wine and a bag of snacks.

“Who’s ready to pretend they’re forty five and drink this 7$ wine?!” He declares from the entryway.

“Why can't we drink beer like normal adults?” Michael groans, paper towels and a bottle of spray cleaner in front of him, as he pauses his wipe down of the snack table.

“Because Thomas has a little baby stomach that can't handle gluten, and he feels left out when we drink beer around him.” James chimes in across the room, barely dodging the empty soda can that’s tossed at his head by Thomas.

“Shut up! At least I can go outside in spring without sneezing a million times,” Thomas snaps back, holding up another empty soda ready to throw at any second.

“Boys, boys. Please, let us enjoy the fruits of our labor, come sit down” Judas says, putting on his best rich person impression, making a sweeping gesture to a dining table to sit at.

Jesus laughs and makes his way over, pulling out a chair and falling into it. He was drained to say the least, but at least his friends were here to share that feeling with him.

Everyone made their way to the table, James and Thomas jokingly bickering and Michael watching unimpressed from his seat, throwing in the occasional comment and chuckle.

Judas served everyone’s wine, the entire time playing fake butler, bad British accent and all.

Jesus hadn't felt this at ease the entire day, and watching his friends converse and tease relaxed him to his core. He had almost forgotten the days events until he was halfway through his glass of wine when James suddenly turned to him.

“Alright enough avoiding it! What do you mean your brother pepper sprayed you. I thought you were an only child or whatever,”

Jesus sighs and sinks into his seat, looking at the ceiling in defeat. He didn’t like discussing his family’s history, considering it was mostly his mother’s business. She deserved to explain in her own words.

Considering the fact that Jesus wasn’t even born when everything had happened, he just felt out of place telling people about his Father.

But here he was, trapped at a table with four of his closest friends, staring down a half empty glass of cheap wine. There was no escaping at least some sort of explanation.

So with a deep breath a heavy heart Jesus started with a simple statement.

“So, to start off, Joseph isn’t my biological father.”

James, once again, Theatre major that he is, gasps. To which Michael gently hits his arm

“Calm down you drama queen, that was obvious. Have you seen Joseph? He’s Scottish and there is no way Jesus is even a little bit Scottish.” Michael says and rolls his eyes.

“Okay well, that’s not the response I was expecting, but I’ll take it?” Jesus says, legitimacy surprised by michaels comment. He supposed once he thought about it, he really didn’t look like his dad.

Jesus did pride himself on being like Joseph though, always trying to act with integrity and pride. Treating everyone with kindness and empathy, and putting as much effort as he could into making his friends and family’s life better.

Draining the rest of his glass, Jesus closed his eyes and tried to think of what to say next. He parted the glass from his lips and set it down with a soft thud on the table.

“Right. So Joseph isn’t my father. You all know the Heaven corporation right?” He asks, glancing across the table

There was a collection of nods and noises of affirmation, so he continued.

“Well, the,” Jesus cleared his throat, the only person he’d really sat down and told about all this was Judas. “The owner, I guess the founder? God, he’s my dad.”

Jesus finishes the statement and reaches for the wine bottle, which is being held out by Judas. There’s a silence that’s come across the table that makes him feel like he’s being watched intently, hunted and examined.

Jesus slowly pours himself another glass and sets the bottle down again, finally looking up from this small ritual he’s used as an artificial lull in the conversation.

Micheal is looking at him with an uncharacteristic amount of softness and care across his face. James has dramatically clutched Thomas’s hand in his own, and Thomas is looking almost as shocked as James.

Jesus moves his eyes to Judas, who is looking towards him waiting for any kind of communication, for a sign he needed an out or a distraction from the conversation.

“Wait how does this relate to your brother though?” Thomas cuts in, leaning forward in his chair, brows furrowed.

Jesus breaks eye contact with Judas, and turns his attention to his friend quickly.

“Right yeah, well. Since God is my father, biologically. That makes his children my siblings. And today I happened to run into my brother, uh, Lucifer.” He responds, looking back at Judas after the statement, he offers his hand over the table, and Jesus takes it.

Jesus used Judas’s hand to anchor him for the moment, to remind him that this isn’t some sort of interview or interrogation on his friend's part. He wanted to tell her about his family, even if it was terrifying to know that they now knew.

“Are you saying, Lucifer of heaven inc, the CEO of Hell prison is- your brother?!” Michael asks, now allowing his own shock to become apparent “and he pepper sprayed you?!”

“To be fair I did jump over a counter and chase him for a full city block into an alley,” Jesus replies and takes a gulp of his wine.

Thomas thuds back into his chair and sighs “I need some more wine-“ He mumbles and motions for Michael to pass it to him.

Jesus can’t help but laugh and shake his head “shits crazy.” Jesus shrugs and stands up “want some bread guys? I think I have some cheese too.”

“Subtle change in subject J.C.” James remarks, watching him as he stands.

“Look, it’s all pretty fucking exhausting okay James, can I just- can you just drop it?” Jesus asks, running a hand through his hair, worrying away at his scalp.

“I’m just saying you could have told us,” He retorts, “didn’t need to bottle it all up.”

“Drop it James” Judas snaps, giving James a stern look.

“What?! I’m just saying he could have told his closest friends! It’s a pretty big deal-Jeez ” James replies and hides his face in his glass.

“It’s fine, James. You’re just worried I get it,” Jesus says, trying to defuse the sudden hostile energy his friends had created “right. Bread, okay. I have some gluten free kind too, don't worry-“ Jesus murmurs and wonders to the kitchen.

While he’s grabbing some snacks he can’t help but overhear some murmuring from the dining room. It doesn’t sound like a full blown argument yet, but Micheal is definitely annoyed.

Jesus gets some basic snacks together and another bottle of wine and makes his way back into the room, where the conversation comes to a lull.

“Right, here’s tonight’s sacrificial bread and wine so the great dieties that sit at this table calm the fuck down” Jesus jokes and sets it all down.

This elicits a small snicker from the clearly drunk James and Thomas. Michael shakes his head and smiles fondly.

“Only if it’s made from the blood of the innocents,” Judas pipes up

Jesus laughs and tops off his glass “Mm will my blood do? Oh great one?” He jokes, smiling fondly towards Judas.

Judas looks back at him with such a fondness that even Jesus can’t ignore it.

“It’ll do, As long as the bread is made of flesh too!!” Judas lets out an evil cackle that gets Thomas into a complete laughing fit.

“Was that supposed to be an evil laugh?! You sounded like my aunt Linda! Holy shit dude what was that?” Thomas gasps out.

The whole table dissolves from there, the awkward atmosphere apparently dispelled. Jesus sits and watches his friends bicker jokingly back and forth, testing each other's evil cackles and sharing inside jokes.

The rest of the night goes well, all questions about Jesus’ sudden family reunion are dropped and everything returns to normal.

At the end of the night, after saying goodbye to the boys, Jesus and Judas are left alone in the apartment as Jesus closes the door.

“That was. Weird.” Jesus sighs and leans his head against the door hand still on the door knob

Judas hums in affirmation, and Jesus can feel his hand reach out and start rubbing a small circle on his back, soothing and firm.

“How ya feeling? James was kind of being a dick about the whole thing.” Judas says from behind him.

Jesus shrugs, melting into Judas’ touch. He turns to him and is welcomed into his warm embrace. Jesus loved the way Judas and him could just touch, so casually and affectionately. It made him feel safe.

“I feel weird” Jesus murmurs, testing his head on Judas’ shoulder as he runs his hand through Jesus’ hair. “I dunno why I even started to explain. I left it off so... awkwardly.”

Judas hums again and gives Jesus a soft kiss on the top of his head “I think you were exhausted, and maybe a bit drunk. And probably need some sleep”

Jesus hopes Judas can’t see the flush that's quickly claiming what must be his entire being. He turns his face into Judas’ chest just in case and nods.

“Yeah probably just that. Still sucked.” He pauses, savoring the way that Judas ran his hand across his back, holding him so close and warmly. “What were you guys saying when I left the room? I heard Michael a bit but couldn’t make anything out really?”

Jesus can feel Judas tense and he briefly stops his soft movements through his hair and across his back.

“Uh- it wasn’t important. James was just being annoying, it’s fine.”

Maybe it was because Jesus was so tired, or maybe he really was drunk because he just nodded and leaned into Judas a bit more.

“Oh... okay,” He hums, “Judy?” He asks, looking up into Judas’s eyes “do you wanna spend the night maybe?”

Fuck he really must be drunk. But Jesus had already said it, no going back now.

Judas laughs and thinks for a moment before replying, just as softly as he touches Jesus says “For you? Anything.” He lets the statement hang there for a moment, and for that moment jesus can believe it.

“Come on, you should get to bed you weirdo” Judas says, cutting the moment short and letting go of Jesus.

Jesus can’t help but miss the warm embrace, but just as he’s about to protest a yawn works it’s way up his throat and stops him in his footsteps.

“Yeah okay. You’re right I’m exhausted.” Jesus nods and starts walking towards his room, when Judas lingers at the hallway he pauses.

If the minute of what was basically cuddling in the entryway wasn’t enough, what Jesus says next does not help his case when he claims he doesn’t like Judas in that way.

“You could sleep in my bed with me if you don’t want the couch,”

Now Jesus was surprised that he said it, but the look on Judas’s face is priceless. A mixture of surprise and an immediate fluster absolutely consumes his whole.

“I, uhm. Yeah. Actually. That’d be nice, sure.” Judas stammers out.

Jesus can’t help but flush when he agrees to his invitation but nods. “Cool,”

“Cool.” Judas replies, trying to act cool and brush off his fluster.

When Jesus climbs into bed with Judas, after letting him borrow an old t-shirt, it’s awkward at first. Jesus doesn’t know what to do, but he has the irresistible urge to reach out to Judas, who lies beside him seemingly staring at the ceiling.

Jesus reaches out a hand, and when it brushes Judas, he startles a little and turns to Jesus. He lets out a breathy laugh.

“Did I scare you?” Jesus asks and lets out his own laugh.

“No way- your hand is just, cold.” Judas says quickly, covering up his fluster. He turns on his side and faces Jesus completely now, a soft smile playing across his face.

“Mm.. sure pretty boy” Jesus replies, it’s almost a whisper when he says it. The intimacy of being this close to Judas, it felt weird. Deep down Jesus decided he liked it far too much, but for now he basked in Judas’s closeness.

If Judas had reacted to Jesus calling him pretty, he didn’t show it outwardly. But instead scooted closer, until he and Jesus’s foreheads were almost touching.

Jesus could feel Judas’s warm breath, he reached out a hand and laid it on Judas’s chest. The room was warm, and Jesus had never felt so safe.

“Can I kiss you?” It’s breathy and quiet when Judas asks, his eyes searching Jesus’s face when he asks.

Jesus would have frozen up completely in any other situation. But the exhaustion and the wine must’ve made him feel far more willing to be brave in that moment.

Jesus leaned forward himself, and brushed his lips against Judas’s. Testing the waters almost, and in reply Judas presses forward with his own.

Judas was still so soft and gentle when he touched Jesus, even when he kissed him. He was always so warm, so welcoming.

It made Jesus feel so many things, but the overwhelming tenderness he felt for the other man consumed his entire self as he leaned into Judas’s kiss.

Judas parted first, breathing shakily. “I didn’t think you’d. I didn’t think we’d ever, well” he laughs

Jesus can’t help but laugh too, and shakes his head. “Oh Judas, you know I love you,” He murmurs, resting his head back on the pillow.

“You really are drunk aren’t you,” Judas murmurs, running fingers through Jesus’ hair again. “We’re gonna have to talk in the morning, mm?”

“Just hold me for now? I’m tired Judy” Jesus mumbles, closing his eyes, dissolving completely into the pillow.

He heard a Judas say something back to him, before being pulled into a warm embrace, where he quickly drifts off to sleep. Arms wrapped around him, the days events gone from his mind, at least for a moment.