Chapter Text
Shinji wonders what he’s doing.
It’s very early morning, or very late night, judging by the glowing red digits propped upon the nightstand, and he should have been asleep hours ago. Instead, he’s staring up at the ceiling, feeling tired and sleepy, but whenever he closes his eyes it feels like more of an effort than to keep them open. A soft mountain of hair brushes against his shoulder, and the inhale-exhale of Kaworu’s breath sends warm air against his bare arm.
Sometime in the night, while Shinji was still drifting in and out of consciousness, Kaworu had slipped out of the bed and joined him on the pallet, curling up by his side. He’s a warm presence now, his breathing compellingly even, and even if Shinji is slightly uncomfortable with the proximity he’s too tired to move, his limbs dead wood and Kaworu a fresh growth of moss.
It’s the third...no, the fourth night that Shinji has stayed here, feeling in his gut that he must return – yet every night, running back every bit the coward that he is. Kaworu, though, Kaworu welcomes him with open arms every time, sometimes literally, and always has an open ear and hot dinner ready for him.
(Sometimes, though, Shinji helps him with the dinner because really, Kaworu is almost as hopeless as Misato.)
It’s colder than usual this night, and so when Shinji woke, he didn’t protest overmuch of the body pressed to his side, instead throwing his sheets over the both of them.
He doesn’t know about that decision now, because Kaworu’s first unconscious decision was to throw an arm across his stomach and snuggle closer.
Shinji yawns, his jaw creaking with the effort, but his teeth click together hard when his shirt rides up and Kaworu’s arm slips onto bare skin. He’s holding his breath, he knows, and it’s going to expel forcefully any second now, but Kaworu’s arm is on his stomach, and he knows it’s stupid but he feels vulnerable, naked. No one’s ever touched him skin to skin this softly, this gently, this innocently, and he can feel his body heat transferring across the point of contact, warming Kaworu’s pale skin.
Then, he feels himself stir, and bites back on a groan, almost hissing aloud at his bad timing.
A flush infuses Shinji’s cheeks and he curses at himself mentally, all thoughts of sleep chased away by a growing need, the corners of the room starkly highlighted with a new hypersensitivity. His breathing comes quicker, and Kaworu’s arm is warm against his stomach.
Idiot. What kind of an idiot are you? This is stupid. He’ll wake up any second. What are you doing?
Shinji’s right hand twitches, then slips underneath Kaworu’s arm, moving downwards.
Pathetic. Disgusting. You’re getting off with Kaworu’s arm on your stomach. This is seventeen different kinds of fucked up.
He presses the flat of his palm against the heat of his erection, pressing down and not quite able to swallow the shaky moan that follows. Shinji feels like his nerves are on fire, and the heat within him expands and doubles, and he doesn’t know if it’s just him or because of the thrill of Kaworu curled next to him, the danger, the helpless excitement that he hates but embraces nonetheless. He feels like crying because he can’t control himself – he’s a coward through and through, but in the end, his desires trump everything, will lead him to hell and back, god fuck the consequences.
He hates it.
His palm grinding against his pants is terribly wonderful, and waves of pleasure rock through him, spreading upwards in a whoosh of butterflies to his chest and downwards to a tingling in his toes. Shinji’s breathing is uneven, coming in ragged pants, at times the intake of his breath catching and keening instead. His lower body twitches occasionally, thrusting upwards remorselessly despite Shinji’s half-hearted attempts to control himself.
Without knowing it, his eyes had squeezed shut in his pleasure. He cracks them open now, his lips parted in imitation, and he glances over –
Kaworu’s eyes are open, and they shine lightly, even shrouded in the dark.
Shinji jerks, his hand fleeing away, his heart jumping out of his chest and his body jackknifing upwards. He stutters madly for a few disjointed seconds, pulse beating a wild tempo against his neck and breathing so quick that he feels lightheaded and dizzy all at once.
“Kaworu – I, I – I mean, I’m sorry, I didn’t – I don’t know what I was doing, I’m so sorry – “
Shinji’s words tumble out of his mouth head-over-heels, breathy in their articulation, jumbled and snarled before they even exit. Red, dark heat explodes over his cheeks, his ears, the back of his neck, and crawls down his back, and Shinji thinks that if lightning doesn’t strike him dead this second, then he’ll just do the deed himself to save himself the utter shame and disgust –
Kaworu cocks his head to the side and also sits up. His gaze seems to traverse Shinji’s whole body and Shinji shrinks in on himself, a gulf of revulsion opening up underneath him. He flinches back when Kaworu opens his mouth, expecting words of loathing, repulsion to spill forth.
“Shinji-kun, are you uncomfortable? Your breathing is laboured, and you appear anxious. Are you alright?”
Shinji’s jaw works uselessly for a good few seconds, and Kaworu takes advantage of this.
“I apologise, it is my fault, after all. I am sorry for startling you, Shinji-kun,” he says, and Shinji has to weld his teeth together to stop himself from letting out a gasp of incredulous, panicking laughter.
“Your – your fault? I’m the one – the stupid one, I...” he trails off, unable to say it, unable to even think it without a wave of shame and despair engulfing him.
“No,” Kaworu says, and shifts alarmingly closer, one hand closing around his – his dirty, shameful hand – and the other dancing lightly atop his knee. “I was...curious, I think. I have never seen Lilim please themselves before. It is a personal experience, and I have intruded.”
His hand slowly wanders up Shinji’s knee, and Shinji is frozen, Kaworu’s words barely registering with him, only his points of contact like fire against the skin of his knuckles, the legs contained within his pants.
“Are you...are you excited, Shinji-kun?” Kaworu whispers, and Shinji only just registers the light shade of red on Kaworu’s cheeks before the hand reaches upwards, closing around his clothed length, and grinding inwards.
Shinji arches upwards, a cry torn from his lips, and he collapses back onto the pallet as Kaworu rolls over and continues his ministrations, rubbing his palm through his pants, the friction sending jolts of electricity to his brain.
“Kaworu...Kaworu, stop...” Shinji whispers brokenly against the tide of pleasure, and to his relief – and disappointment – Kaworu stops, his hand ceasing its movement but still hotly pressed to Shinji’s groin.
“I am sorry,” Kaworu murmurs, his eyes sad as they regard him. “I only meant to bring you happiness, and instead it appears I have made you even more uncomfortable.” He lets go of Shinji and retreats backwards, glancing upwards at the bed. “This is my fault.”
Shinji watches Kaworu stand and move towards the bed with something like despair gnawing at him, the feeling like a missed step on the way to the bottom. An ache runs through him, and, only half in control of his actions, he lunges out of the sheets, catching Kaworu around the waist and sending them both tumbling onto the bed in a sprawl of limbs.
He tries not to whimper as his still-hard length grinds into the inside of Kaworu’s upper thigh, and his fingers reflexively grip around Kaworu’s shoulders.
“No, it’s – it’s mine,” Shinji says, and closes his eyes and presses a fast kiss onto the back of Kaworu’s neck, flushing but pleased at the quiet noise Kaworu emits, something like contentment mixed with wonder.
He pushes himself up on his arms and Kaworu wriggles up and around, turning to face him while moving to a more comfortable position. Shinji’s face is a hot mess of embarrassment and arousal and heat, but Kaworu looks almost perfectly composed, the illusion of the calm, gentle, curving smile only broken by the heat in his cheeks and the slight glazing of his eyes.
Shinji looks down, and...oh.
He feels something rise within him, and it’s hard to pinpoint what it is – but Shinji thinks it might be his torrent of emotions for Kaworu, the blend of excitement and confusion and happiness that the other boy inspires in him, the scent of spring and summer flowers with the slight aroma of freshly baked bread – and Shinji knows he’s losing it with his strange imagination and metaphors, but when it comes down to it, there’s a wobbling sensation in his chest that feels like his heart swelling, and he thinks he might just be in love with this boy, with his mussed silver hair and red, blazing eyes, his pale skin, and a slight swell in loose pyjama pants.
Shinji swallows and sits upright on Kaworu’s legs, his own need temporarily forgotten, and with slightly shaking fingers he reaches down, tugging at the waistband –
Long, slim fingers close around his own and Shinji’s gaze flies up, startled.
Kaworu smiles at him, that damnable half-lidded sleepy smile. “I love you, Shinji-kun,” he murmurs, and Shinji feels the heat renewed, burning the back of his neck. His ears glow red.
“Really?” he whispers back, the second iteration of those exact words having the same effect that they did the first time. Shinji hesitates, then leans forward, pressing his lips clumsily against Kaworu’s, somewhat mortified at his inelegance, and at the same time too busy to care when Kaworu hums against him, his arms flinging around Shinji and fingers burying in his hair.
It seems obscene, almost scandalous that they are only kissing now, with Kaworu’s pants slung down to his jutting hipbones, with Shinji hot, trapped against the fabric of his pants. It’s scandalous but Shinji guiltily enjoys it anyway, the sounds that Kaworu’s making vibrating across his lips.
They break apart, gasping for air, and Shinji only has time to note with satisfaction that Kaworu’s face is well and truly flushed before hands are tugging, pulling at his shirt. It’s over his head and cast to the floor almost before he registers it, and Shinji is left staring, wide eyed, shirtless, at the boy lying below him.
He’s spurred into action when Kaworu smiles up at him again, tugging down his pants successfully this time, embarrassed and slightly fascinated when he drags his fingers through a light tangle of silvery hair, down to – to Kaworu’s shaft, hot, fire against his skin, but when Kaworu jerks and exhales tightly, Shinji knows he’ll do anything – anything – to get that reaction and more.
Shinji’s breath comes in sync with Kaworu’s as he strokes him, mouth slightly open as Kaworu shakes and moans underneath him, snippets of babble at times coming forth, nothing like the smooth, philosophical words that he’s used to.
“Shinji,” Kaworu gasps as Shinji increases the pace, hips thrusting into his strokes, and fingers now gripping the bed sheets, twining and curling and knuckles white. “I lo – oh, I love you!”
With his other hand, Shinji digs into his own pants, groaning as he finally touches his trapped erection.
Kaworu’s already there, though, shaking hands pulling at his pants, shucking them to his knees. “Together,” he breathes roughly, and pulls him close.
Shinji lowers himself until they’re touching, watching Kaworu’s face melt into a pool of satisfaction, throwing his head back, mouth agape and eyes sealed shut. He pulls himself upward until he’s chest to chest, and then grinds down with his hips, twin, sharp exhales from both of them.
He moves, up and down, Kaworu pushing up from below, and almost screams as Kaworu’s fingers close around both of their erections and moves, stroking and sliding until Shinji lets out an explosive gasp of air, muffling it against Kaworu’s collarbone. Kaworu’s twisting underneath him but all Shinji can feel is those long fingers wrapped around both of them, pumping up and down, the feel of Kaworu’s hard length against his own, and he’s seeing stars with his eyes squeezed so tightly shut, and he’s moaning Kaworu’s name incoherently – and he thinks Kaworu’s doing the same, but the hand never ceases moving and Shinji blearily wonders if it’s possibly to die of too much pleasure.
He arches back with a scream as he comes, and Kaworu follows only a second later, moaning something intelligible, all signs of a smile wiped from his lips, his feelings only expressed with the cant of his head, the arch of his eyebrows, and the gasping of his mouth, air gulped in great pants.
Shinji lies bonelessly atop Kaworu, the aftershocks of pleasure still sending miniature spasms through his body, compounding as they rub his length against Kaworu’s, against his fingers, more shocks flowing through him.
“Kaworu-kun,” he whispers against Kaworu’s chest, and threads their fingers together. “I love you.”
Kaworu shifts and Shinji slides to the side, onto the bed so that they’re lying facing together. His face is warm and relaxed, and Shinji almost forgets to be embarrassed about the state that they’re both in.
“I am glad to have brought some measure of happiness to you,” Kaworu whispers, and Shinji’s face contorts.
“Was it all about me?” he says, a sudden blow of coldness settling in his stomach. “Was that...was that all just for me?”
Kaworu pauses, then shakes his head slowly. His hair is caught in the linen, fuzzy static electricity pinning it to the mattress. “No...I think you have brought me happiness too, Shinji-kun,” he says, and the world is warm again, and even if Shinji’s pants are pulled down to his knees, even if his shirt is gone, he nonetheless finds comfort moving closer to Kaworu’s side, slipping his arms around his waist, and sighing in contentment.
It’s early morning now, judging by the clock on the nightstand, and even if Shinji was meant to be asleep several hours ago, he’s happy that he’s awake right now, the threads of tiredness only just now beginning to seep into his body.
He thinks that he might be able to fall asleep after all, with Kaworu curled up against his body, a ball of heat between them, and the morning stretching out infinitely before them.