Jesus faced the crowd. “Friends! Despite our similarities, we are not brothers by blood. Though we have always been brothers in spirit!” he said and swept a hand onto Peter’s shoulders. Peter beamed, warming under the attention of his long-lost friend—the only one who had ever believed in him.

Peter and Jesus sat by the river eating a meal of fish and bread. Peter had told the crowd of supporters to stay back so that he and his brother could sup alone.

Ruth remained with the others, but could not settle her concerns. She watched as the two friends leaned intimately toward each other. She could feel Peter’s need for attention.

But what kind of attention did he seek? Did he even know? Did Jesus?

Ruth worried that the ambiguity of their relationship might add further risk to their mission, and their lives. After all, Jesus was in all but name a woman. One whose passions remained supple and undefined.

Soon their bodies would seek to fulfill their needs.

What then? How would the attraction come to express itself? And how much worse if the attraction were thwarted?

With expert hands, Peter sliced a fish into pieces and regaled his friend with stories of their shepherding adventures.

“Remember when you tried to haul a jar of honey and it broke in your arms?” he chimed. “The goats would not stop licking you for a week!”

Jesus laughed at the tales as he watched his friend work. He could not help but admire the strength of Peter’s hands and the muscles rippling his forearms. Peter, he could see, had grown into a strong and beautiful man. Jesus thought back to their final farewell and the surge that had passed between them. A heat invaded him at its recall. And a shiver tingled his belly.

Peter doted on his friend. He brought him fresh figs, washed his tunic, and repaired his sandals. He hung around Jesus, playing his flute, telling jokes, and sharing stories of his life since their separation. Though he could see that Jesus had duties to attend to, he seemed entirely disinterested in them. And constantly offered invitations to distract his friend. “The mousht are jumping. Let us go fishing!”

Peter’s attentions and proximity soon began to inhibit those who wished to visit with Jesus.

“Wh-why does he stand so c-close?” Tabitha asked, obviously shaken.

Ruth did not answer. But her eyes narrowed as the two men walked off toward the river.

Jesus had been overjoyed at his friend’s return. But as time passed, he felt himself becoming conflicted. It was true that he reveled in Peter’s colorful retelling of their misadventures, and that he swooned at his sublime and seductive flute playing.

But why did he cringe when Peter called him “brother”? Was it because he wanted Peter to know the truth? Or was it because he wanted to be more than just brothers?