Somewhere far above the mortal plane...not in heaven, but in a gap between the realms where prophets and deities gathered...the two men looked down upon creation.

Human civilization had grown in strength, and yet they had also grown in stubbornness and ignorance. The holy writings and teachings they'd tried to leave the people had been twisted into excuses for violence and bigotry by world leaders and churches...so badly, this corruption was, that nearly all of the Christians and Muslims that believed themselves to be pure were, in fact, saddening the great founders they held so dearly.

The most recent event was the most tragic in many years; a handful of Muslims had attacked a predominantly Christian nation. And in their self-righteous fury, the land struck out at the lands of Islam, causing destruction and chaos. They denied it was about religion, that it was about terrorism and law and freedom...but they were not fooling anyone but themselves.

Looking down upon the world, Muhammad growled angrily as a young woman was cornered and beaten by a group of so-called Muslims, for the crime of refusing to wear 'traditional clothing'.

"Why does it have to be this way? How were our teachings so abused, so misinterpreted?"

Jesus turned away from the sight as blood began to pour into the alley where he knew this woman would die. Before he could reply, his turned gaze fell upon some of his own followers, who were screaming in front of an abortion clinic at frightened women, intimidating, threatening violence, and abusing and twisting every word he'd try to teach them.

"I do not know what hope is left," he whispered, struggling to hold back tears. "We tried, didn't we? We taught them, tried to teach them the will of God...why did we fail like this?"

"Jesus, it's not all our fault...they are the ones who corrupted our words..."

"Still...we could have done better, couldn't we?"

Muhammad wrapped an arm around him, drawing Jesus in close. "We cannot blame ourselves. God told us that it was our job to deliver the message, and theirs to follow it. It is not on our hands."

Sighing sadly, Jesus turned away from the view and leaned his head against Muhammad's shoulder. "Sometimes I wonder if Father is always right. About us not being able to interfere anymore, I mean. Maybe if we could go back down there and show them what we REALLY want from them..."

"Jesus, even if we did...even if you performed a million miracles to prove your identity...those fools would not accept our words merely because of what we have between us. Do you really think the world of man could accept that what they've been taught since birth is a distorted lie, and that love and compassion is all that God expects of them? Do you really think they would listen to us if they saw us share a kiss?"

They looked back down at an American soldier's funeral. He'd died in another human atrocity, a bloody and pointless war in Iraq, committed for no other reasons than greed and hatred towards the Muslim people. Despite the error of the soldier's ways, he was returning to God now; however, as his parents and family wept over the casket, a group of men surrounded the gravesite, waving signs of hate and screaming.

"I've never seen this before," Muhammad said. "What's going on?"

Jesus, normally a calm and thoughtful man, clenched his fists in rage. "It's despicable. Those men are protesting at that boy's funeral because of the military stance on homosexuals...which, ironically enough, is in itself discriminatory...but not discriminatory enough for those monsters, apparently. So instead, they are using the most painful day of that family's lives to spread their poisonous propaganda! If there really was a Hell, those beasts would deserve to spend eternity in it."

He turned to the prophet, a sad expression on his face. "You're right. They wouldn't accept the truth, not even if we ourselves went down there. Father is right, after all...it is up to them to find the truth, not us."

Muhammad smiled as Jesus's sadness began to diminish. He gently ran a hand through the Son of God's long brown hair, sending a shiver throughout his body.

"I died for them, but still they---"

The Prophet laid a finger over Jesus' lips, hushing him. "Relax, my Savior. It is not right for you to be so stressed on the anniversary of your resurrection."

"For all the good it did..."

"That does not matter. Your act was noble and brave, sacrificing yourself for the people. And you know," he whispered, tracing the finger down the front of Jesus' robes, "that was what made me attracted to you in the first place."

The two lay down on the soft, cloud-covered ground, unseen by man for better or for worse. God, of course, saw them, but despite what the major religions of earth believed, the Father of Heaven had blessed their union long ago; he looked upon their coupling with nothing but happiness, proud that his son and his prophet had found the true Meaning of his creation: love.

"I want to do something special for this day," Muhammad said sultrily. "I know how we usually do it, and...this time, I want you to take me."

Jesus looked at him with wide eyes, uncertain. While there was no clear 'dominant' man in their union, the Messiah had always been the taken, rather than the taker. They'd even joked about it, Jesus saying that "blessed are the meek" while they made love.

"Are you sure? I've never done it like that before..."

"I have no qualms with being having you take me. Besides, I might enjoy it...and I know you will," Muhammad smiled. "Trust me...divinity is nothing compared to how you will feel."

Jesus grinned nervously, pushing the Prophet onto his back. "Very well, but I wish to give you something before I take it." Before Muhammad could reply, he found his robe pulled open and his semi-hard sex being stroked by the Messiah's hand.

"Looks like the Prophet of Allah is ready to serve the Lord," Jesus whispered, fondling the hard shaft until it reached full erection.

"Oh my God," Muhammad groaned.

"No, Jesus," he heard in reply, and both laughed. Jesus leaned up and kissed his man, relishing in the feel of their lips together, their tongues intertwining.

Sin? Jesus thought to himself, bemused. They honestly believe this is sinful? Don't they realize that if God didn't want them to do this, He wouldn't have made them desire it in the first place?

After a moment of sharing each other's mouths, the Messiah broke the kiss and starting moving down Muhammad's body, kissing every inch as he moved closer to his goal. Trailing kisses down his neck, down his hard, taut muscle, Jesus quickly reached the stiff half-foot protrusion of the Prophet, and ran a few kisses up its length. Muhammad buried his hands in Jesus' long locks, desperate for pleasure.

Eager to please, Jesus ran his tongue up the shaft, the tip teasing the head, until he had his lover gasping for more. He then wrapped his sultry lips around the penis and took it into his mouth as deep as he could, until the end of it was in his throat.

Muhammad nearly climaxed right then from the incredible sensation of the tight hot feeling, and had to struggle to hold back the urge to pound into his lover's throat. Luckily, he didn't have to; Jesus was more than willing to move himself.

Starting out slow, the Messiah moved his mouth up and down the hard cock, his tongue stimulating the underside of the shaft, his lips locking on the pole in a wet embrace. He withdrew the sex until only the head remained between those lips, teasing it with a swipe of the tongue, then moved down on it again, filling his mouth with the hot, thick erection.

"I...fuck, I can't last long, Jesus, I'm sorry---"

Do not apologize, it was my intention, the Messiah sent telepathically, and bobbed his head faster on the cock of the Prophet. The Son of God was quite good; it didn't take a deity to repress one's gag reflex, but it helped. Each motion brought the erection deep into the throat of the Christ, providing a hot, slick sensation of pure bliss, and within moments Muhammad was spurting warm cum into his lover, which he eagerly swallowed.

Another good thing about deities and ascended prophets, there was no worry of sexually transmitted diseases.

Withdrawing the penis from his mouth, Jesus smiled at the enthralled look of pleasure on Muhammad's face, glad to please.

"Now...I believe I get to experience some pleasure of my own now, correct?" Jesus asked, grinning further as his lover nodded eagerly.

The Prophet bent over in the submissive position which the Son of God usually took; another thing humans had to learn was that being submissive in matters of sex was not a sign of weakness. There was nothing morally wrong with wanting to please another; the sooner humanity discovered that, the sooner they'd be ready for the True Rapture.

Summoning a handful of lubrication was an easy task for the Son of God. He slicked Muhammad's entrance, the feel of his fingertips there bring the Prophet's spent erection towards arousal yet again. Wiping the remaining lubrication on his own Holy Erection, Jesus moved to get in the unfamiliar position of dominance.

"Don't worry," Muhammad whispered. "Do what feels natural. I can handle the pain of penetration easily. I want you to have the most intense climax of your life, my Prince."

Jesus' erection twitched at those words, and he moved forward, the head of his cock rubbing at the slippery feel of Muhammad's anus. Gripping his hips, Jesus moved forward slowly, feeling the tight ring of muscles first resist his movement, but then slowly part around him.

As he buried himself in his lover, the Messiah groaned in pleasure. He thought he knew sensation; he thought that being in the hands and mouth of his dearest was all that there was. Smiling in ecstasy, Jesus realized that despite being the Son of God, there was still much he did not know.

He looked down to see his erection inside Muhammad up to the hilt; the new feeling of the hot, tight passage gripping his cock was...divine.

"Can I...move?" Jesus asked, and the Prophet nodded.

"Just...slowly at first."

The Messiah slowly, slowly pulled back, feeling the anus clench tightly on his length, as if not wanting him to leave. Which, of course, he didn't; he pulled out to the head, then began pushing forward again, resheathing himself in the warm bowels of his lover.

"Sin, huh?" Jesus asked, eliciting a laugh from Muhammad. The laugh turned into a moan as the thrusting penis began to move faster, probing into his hot ass. With each movement, the Holy Erection rubbed against the Prophet's prostate, stimulating him almost immediately into full erection, and quickly into intense pleasure he'd not known existed. It was not better than penetration; it was merely different. Muhammad thought that he might make this role reversal be more than a mere one-time event.

Jesus groaned in satisfaction, pounding the tight anus of his love, slipping slickly into the warm tunnel. He'd never known the pleasure of the female flesh, but he doubted anything could be better than this...and he didn't think he'd trade this sensation for the world.

Reaching a hand down between the parted legs beneath him, Jesus gripped Muhammad's rock-hard erection, moving his hand on the length as he thrust into his ass. The movement was perfectly in sync, with the Prophet's hips meeting both the thrusts of Jesus' cock and hand to maximize the experience.

Not even the Son of God could last long in this tight heat. Soon Jesus was thrusting as hard as he could, his balls slapping the Prophet's buttocks, his length probing into his ass so fast that it nearly burned.

"I...I'm going to..." Jesus gasped, and Muhammad groaned in near-climax as well. With a hard series of thrusts, the Son of God elicited an intense orgasm from the Prophet; as the seed spilled from his erection, his anus clenched tightly on the penetrating cock, and Jesus could take it no longer. With a last hard thrust and a groan, he spurted more cum into the hot rectum than he'd ever experienced, and the two collapsed down onto the ground together.

Jesus withdrew and lay in the arms of Muhammad, sharing sweet afterglow kisses, reveling in the glorious warmth of the realm.

"Did you enjoy that, my Prince?" Muhammad asked, stroking Jesus' cheek tenderly.

"I loved it...I don't like it more than being yours to take, but I love it just as much. We should switch positions more often," Jesus said with a grin.

Looking down on the world below with all its strife and violence, both sighed sadly. If only some of their love could be felt by the populace, maybe the creatures below would finally be ready to hear God's true purpose for creation: love.

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Epilogue

It was not even two hours after Sunday services let out.

"Faggot!"

"You fucking queer!"

The men kicked the huddled figure hard, without any restraint; this was not a game to them, not an act of bullying, but of pure and simple hatred. The young man tried to cover his head with his hands, screaming in pain and fear as the kicks struck his chest, breaking ribs and scoring away skin.

"Teach you, you goddamned cocksucker!"

Another blow was aimed at his head, breaking three fingers and fracturing his wrist. Pulling back his hand in sheer reflex to the pain, the next kick struck his skull at full force; his neck pulled forward so fast that it cracked, nearly broken. He was no longer capable of sound. Blood poured from his nose and ears.

Satisfied that the fucking scumbag faggot had learned his lesson, the men withdrew, laughing as they walked away.

They stopped by Burger King on their way home. When they got home and removed their good suits, wiping dirt and blood off their shoes, they went about their day as though nothing had happened.

When they prayed that night, none of them asked for forgiveness.

Alone in a secluded field, the broken man was crying silently, shattered. He tried to get up and found that he could not; his arms and legs were not responding.

Suddenly, there was a Light, a bright and shining Light of purest white. His eyes squinted at the sight, trying to make out what it was.

Two figures emerged, both in long, flowing robes. One was a tall man with long hair and startlingly blue eyes; the other a slightly shorter, more muscular man with a proud iron-gray beard and a hard yet kind face.

"We are so sorry, my child," the taller man said, kneeling beside him. "I am so sorry it had to end this way for you, that you had to suffer this much."

The powerful man also knelt beside him, stroking his broken cheek gently. "It is horrible that this happened to you simply because of what you are. Those fools do not understand love, and they do not understand those that feel your kind of love. That is why they hate you, and that is why they fear you."

The broken man tried to respond, but his mortal coil was no longer functioning. He could only tremble in awe at these figures; there was something incredibly vivid about them.

The tall man leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Do not fear, child. Your pain is over. It is time for you to meet the Lord...and you will find that there is nothing wrong with who and what you are. My Father's plan for the world is love; and in the next world, there is none of this horrible intolerance, this disgraceful brutality."

The strong man reached his hand out to the boy. "Come now. Your time suffering has ended."

Gripping the powerful man's hand, he pulled himself up, amazed that he could now stand. Looking down, he realized why; his true body was no longer alive.

The two holy men smiled at him, but it was a sad smile that they shared. While this one's suffering was passed, countless others were still living in fear, subjected to hatred and violence and fear.

Nevertheless, they fulfilled this bittersweet duty, bringing this new Soul back to Heaven, to a realm where love was respected, glorified just as much as the Holy Father. And both men hoped fervently that someday the world would grow out of this bloody mess...that peace would replace war, that acceptance would replace intolerance, and that the feelings of friendship and love between the two Founders could spread among their followers.

THE END

A sequel, "The Second Cumming", is in the works.

"With the first link the chain is forged. The first speech censured, the first thought forbidden, the first freedom denied, chains us all irrevocably." ---Captain Picard quoting some Space Judge.

*****

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