At 2AM, the corridors at NERV were as silent as the thick of a SEELE deliberation. The lofty bay which harbored Eva Unit #02 was likewise empty, save for a tall, slender boy - fragile, shaggy-haired humanity dwarfed by the slick hypertrophy of technology, the Evangelion. He regarded thoughtfully, stroking with loving, casual eye, the dull red finish of Asuka's mech, a monstrous synthetic life capable of hand-combat against the very angels themselves. The gruesome, created beast now dreamed, sedate and immobile in its liquid bath of arc-light and bright storage fluid. The boy probed it, feeling its emptiness, its vulnerability.The laces of Kaworu's sneakers were untied, in the careless manner of a boy much younger than himself. The lacings of his odd shirt, too. But, hands thrust into his pockets, he didn't notice. His mind was engaged, wedded, enchanted by the honey-sweet intelligence which had appeared, unbeckoned, within the bower of his own head that sleepless night. It whispered to him, plied him with wisdom, intoxicated his very self with cruel wonders. It showed him things, visions of delight and eternity. The mind set his own mind equal to the gods, expanded his being until he knew the whole of the world - saw everything - felt... everything! And, led by blatant awe and casual disregard of his own openness, he had given himself to it now, virginity surrendered in that innocent void beyond peace, the self beyond self-awareness.
His feet hung from the ankles, as limp as his shoe laces. For Kaworu floated carelessly, in easy control, some eighteen or twenty feet above the metal grate of the service catwalk - by no means visible to the eye, and no method known to Kaworu himself, either. A gift from the other within, whose name was Tabris.
"You are all this, and more, Kaworu-san," the angel said. "And me. For you are me."
He had been frightened at first, extremely: terrified and repelled by the growing presence that was not so very 'other' after all, the presence-that-wasn't within his own mind. Curious, it felt, and yet so natural. Beyond comfortable. So real. It wasn't with the temptations of power that it approached Kaworu, but with gifts of wisdom and wonder, secrets to the universe and to men's most secret of hearts. The boy's guilelessness made certain the outcome.
He surpassed worldly calm, now, grown beyond his usual, fun-loving self. For new thoughts were becoming stronger; older, wiser thoughts; and more brief and less frequent came the moments when he felt as he'd always did, a carefree boy with that erotic fire of deceptive teenage immortality which pulsed through living flesh. He had glimpsed a different sort of immortality: Truth looked upon with naked eyes; Time, like the first curious child, unclothed in innocence and unafraid of death. Standing on the highest of precipices, he looked upon all created things as one.
"You are me..." Kaworu whispered back, enchanted, yet aware of his enchanted self.
The supernatural was knifed by the fatal sharpness of a boy's scream. A sudden sheet of pain flared in Kaworu's knees and ankles as he dropped heavily to the deck. He caught himself on the guard rail.
Shinji's dark, neat hair was ruffled with sleep. His huge brown eyes, watery and unfocused in the sudden brightness into which he'd just stepped, had taken in the sight of his best friend suspended in mid-air. He clutched at the railing, one small hand white and sterile with fear. The other furrowed his cheek, the complexion marked more by a lifelong loneliness and fear than by the ripe blossoms of puberty. At that instant, his was a face frozen in tremors of terror, his dazzled eyes wide, pupils enormous. A soft blue nightshirt flowed easily from his small shoulders to his knees, and an unconscious trickle of urine continued on to his bare feet, tinkling through the metal grate of the catwalk to merge with the pure stasis bath of the Eva.
And Kaworu was on him in an instant, with a will not his own.
His long, sensitive fingers flew to Shinji's temples, and the shrieks of the terrorized, wide-eyed boy were at once only echoes scaling the high walls of the Eva chamber, echoes of echoes rocketing up the launch tunnels, wending their exhausted way at last to the surface of Tokyo-3. Shinji's eyes fell gently closed, his head bowed, and his breath came suddenly shallow.
Kaworu thumbed sweet-fragrant boysweat from Shinji's forehead and cute, small nose. He breathed steadily, calmly - or tried to, forcing himself to relax - with a conscious grin so much like his own spontaneous one. He felt dizzy, and painfully aware that he'd been holding his breath. His legs hurt, too. His body sagged toward the smaller boy's.
"Let's get you back to bed, OK?" he panted in a whisper. The concern and love flowing up suddenly from his adolescent heart was no longer just that of an awkward teenager. It took him unawares, a clear surprise, shaking his self-image a little. He realized he was frightened, too - and not just for himself.
"Oh, Shinji-kun! I don't know what's happening to me," he said, with humility and awe. "I don't. It's wonderful, and dangerous. And so sweet. But you certainly weren't ready to see this. I'm sorry..." Shinji made no response, of course, didn't seem to have heard at all. But with an unexpected, moist welling of joy and care in his eyes, Kaworu forgot for a time having been able to fly. He leaned forward and kissed the sleeping boy. His arm around Shinji was light, persuasive; his step, careful, as he turned and led the way to the men's quarters deep within the defense complex.
The swell of disorganized, syncopated pounding resolved itself from somewhere ahead, gaining steadily in volume and purpose. It synchronized and fell to pieces again, giving way to squeals of boots on flooring. He knew it would happen, even before his ears detected the disturbance. Not so much by logic, as through sheer heightened senses. A platoon of NERV's crack security troops skidded to a halt in the very corridor that the boys were just entering, drawn lately by early-morning screams. Their assault weapons found targets smaller and lower than expected. Yet just as easy to kill.
"Back to your station," Kaworu ordered softly, with authority that wasn't his. "The kid's just been sleep-walking." He lied earnestly, unsure yet how to sound convincing to adults. But he wasn't wearing his ID badge, himself, and it was certain the guards wouldn't recognize him, either.
The leader stepped forward, bravado and reflective helmet-visor concealing his eyes. It was all so quick. He placed his 9mm automatic, quite business-like, to Kaworu's forehead. The bolt slid smoothly back, and the safety snapped off. Death was only a hair-trigger away.
"Just don't move. We'll get this straightened out, boy." His voice held no hope of that. And some satisfaction in the matter, too.
Of course Shinji hadn't been simply sleep-walking, and Kaworu knew that. But, strangely fearless even beyond himself, he held the unseen gaze of the officer with one of his own. Of power, growing within. He knew, in passing, that he should push Shinji away, to purchase safety for the other boy by physical distance, in case the gun should discharge. Yet he hugged his friend closer, not totally unseen by the soldier, and drew strength, like a field, from the small, warm heart pressing its trust against his side. Kaworu's other hand moved with slow, sinuous peril, towards the weapon pointed at his brain.
His heart was beating so fast he didn't think he'd have a chance to be shot. Why in the world was he acting this way, so beyond himself? That very heart began to expand inside his skinny chest, until he felt it must burst, or collapse in coruscations of hexigeometrical light. Shinji moved slightly, beside him.
"I said, back to your station," he repeated, with a gentle firmness in his voice that his body didn't feel. His guts quivered, loosened. "Everything's fine here." He smiled, pointedly, trying to show that he could almost believe that very thing. The issue would be decided in a moment, either way, he realized. His hand fell to the gun.
There was no response from behind the silvered faceplate, from the man being taken up by the boy. No motion in the frozen, gloved fist, the finger bearing destruction. Yet Kaworu's coolness held fast, his determination to save Shinji. With patient pressure, and a disquieting minimum of motion - with a strength he never before possessed - Kaworu rotated the weapon free of the threatening grip.
There came a sickening crackle of bone.
"That must have hurt," he murmured, shaking his head sadly. His own stomach spasmed in genuine sympathy. But his eyes never left the soldier's. "I'm sorry."
Still not the barest hint of awareness from the paralyzed uniform.
"Go now. Go to Infirmary; get that fixed. And you and your men saw nothing here. Nothing." The last came out with a coldness that could never live in Kaworu's heart. Or so he thought.
The squad leader nodded with a jerky, mechanical unevenness. Still, his hesitation was palpable. The absolute terror which held him unshielded became only a dark patch on the front of his trousers. It was his first apparent quickening since he menaced the boy with his sidearm.
But it was enough. Released, he turned upon heel, the pistol now in Kaworu's keeping and quite forgotten. He strode evenly and authoritatively back to his men, shouting orders. The company executed a sharp about-face, and lust for a killing anticipated became just another detour on their nightly patrol. They double-timed it, bereft of memory and diversion, back to their unit.
Kaworu shivered visibly and unpleasantly, rousing Shinji from his hypnotic drowse. He didn't realize how frightened he'd actually been. Or even quite know what he'd done. Or why - or how. And what he did know was fading, too. And fast. The weapon in his palm joined the Eva in the LCL pool. A second later, he didn't remember tossing it in.
"Kaworu-kun?" called Shinji, from somewhere far away, his voice cottony-soft with sleep. The splash had woken him. He sounded surprisingly normal, as if he were just up in the night for a drink of water, undisturbed significantly by the events he'd just witnessed, insulated by whatever held his screams and consciousness at bay. "Kaworu, where are we? I'm cold..." A shaky hug from the taller boy tried to warm him, comfort his whine. Any other time it would have embarrassed Shinji to be cuddled so. But in the dead, solitary hours of the slumbering morning, the vacant halls of NERV offered as much privacy as their own rooms.
"It's OK, now. You've just been sleep-walking. I found you down here with the Evas. You might have fallen in the fluid pit: the rails aren't too sturdy, you know."
Shinji nodded in his sleep, moist lower lip pouting a bit as from a mild scolding. His own arm found its drowsy way around the other boy's waist. A small dreamy snuggle, and a tiny smile, conveyed his trust, his readiness to be led anywhere Kaworu would take him.
Which was back to bed.
They made their way to quarters, a long, eventless pad in the predawn dark of the subterranean NERV complex, the cavern city under the Geo-Front. It was a world which would know no dawn but the last dawn. They didn't meet any more of the security force, nor any of the multitude of scientists and high technologists who usually swarmed this underground nest, humanity's ultimate redoubt against the angels and the coming end of the world. The cosmos itself seemed fast asleep, as insensible as the planet's surface which Adam, the first angel, had all but destroyed. This night of nights, there was no vigil held.
It was only getting Shinji back to the safety of his room, about which Kaworu thought. Yet the tickling of prescience that was Tabris - that was himself - intruded to the edge of consciousness, like an rendezvous that couldn't be postponed. It wasn't alone the enticement of knowledge, any longer, but more: self-actualization was now calling. Kaworu had found himself.
Shinji didn't awaken on the way, but padded along, docile and content, leaning sleepily on the other boy. He snuggled like an unconscious child. If anything, he'd slipped deeper into the dream which Kaworu had put upon him. How? Again, Kaworu didn't know. But he guided Shinji to his own room, lights dimmed and the bed virgin of sleep, and helped the boy sit. With a gentle palm on his chest, Shinji's head found the pillow.
Kaworu hopped into the bathroom, drained the remnant of fear, surprised in the brightness at the sudden urgency of his need. He washed, rubbing at his face and tired eyes. Lilith! he thought, they look so old.
And caught himself. "Lilith? That's a curious oath." But, feeling fresher then, he dismissed it, and quickly dampening a washcloth and taking a towel, then returned to the bedroom.
Shinji was still, snoring gently, both feet on the floor at the side of the bed. The nightshirt covered him to his thighs. His breathing was deep and regular. Kaworu knelt, and bathed each foot, wiping away damp smears of floorgrime and beads of wet.
"Ikari Gendo, he should be ashamed, letting the place get as filthy as this," he thought, with a smile. The NERV complex was almost inhumanly sterile, and he knew it.
"Gendo won't have time for shame," came the return, edged with that sharp seductive brilliance of the intelligence, Tabris. Of himself. Kaworu.
What a strange idea... No time? But Kaworu was too content tonight to dwell on dark thought, or random. He felt so strong, so powerful, it was almost erotic. He chuckled, feeling himself stir within his pants. His success with the soldiers still amazed him - frightened him, too. It eluded him as to just what he'd done, how he'd gotten away with it. Yet the not-knowing didn't bother him, though, for Kaworu's heart was still his own, and the quiet self-possession and confidence unruffled by even the things the angel had showed him. His constant, indomitable smile - his very soul, perhaps - bubbled through the confusion, the struggle. The otherness. He washed Shinji's small feet and slim, smooth, boy-silvery calves, his own perpetual happiness-field growing inside. He couldn't remember feeling such joy in one moment. His heart was so full.
It was with hesitation that he touched the hem of Shinji's nightdress. Hey, we shower together, he giggled, reassuring himself needlessly. And lifting the cloth carefully to his friend's chest, he washed knees and thighs without trouble. To serve, he thought: this is the greatest. And for Shinji, my friend, best of all.
He's so fragile. And beautiful. I love him... Which came a sudden surprise.
Kaworu sat back on haunches, sighing until breath was completely gone. He wiped at his face with a free hand, sightless as he looked within. Any sigh would ever have been too great for Kaworu. His light heart and fearless, carefree manner eschewed sadness in all its forms, made burdenless all troubles. Still, this was something, wasn't it? Love? The late realization was gradually swallowed up in the imperturbable sea of his self, his happiness, the ripples of discomfort quieting like waves on oil.
Yes, Kaworu decided, I do love Shinji. And it's perfectly OK.
The warm, wet cloth in Kaworu's hand had been resting, forgotten, on Shinji's groin. The small maleness there had responded, pale turning dark as it grew away from the newly-sprouted patch which Shinji had displayed in the bath earlier that day. Adam! look what I've done now, Kaworu swore, unnoticing this time. He quickly but gently completed the cleanup, removing the last shame from Shinji's private self, sheathing him again gently.
"Kaworu-kun?" came a soft, ticklish uncertainty. "Are you here? I am dreaming, ne?" Then a boyish giggle. And a squirm.
"I'm here with you, Shinji-kun. You were dreaming,..." He swiftly pulled the nightshirt back into place, with an unsteady hand. Why am I trembling - from what? Unaccustomed modesty? he wondered. A flicker of shame at such unavoidable intimacy?
Or something else? What do you fear? He pushed the uncertainty from his head, ungently.
"Now under the blanket with you," he suggested, warmly, "and you can finish up the night in my bed."
Until that moment Kaworu didn't realize he intended going back. To the Eva. To Tabris. To the awesome superflux of wisdom and surfeit of wonder that even the simplest moment of self-contemplation could become in that awesome, awful Presence. He trembled, distracted, feeling naked in the cold breath of the world's final dawn.
Shinji nodded dreamily. Smiled. "That'd be cool, Kaworu-kun. Yeah..." He tried to sit up, to shift. To negotiate his body underneath the bedclothes. He tried again. It didn't work. He came awake, nightshirt rucked up at his belly. When he tried to pull it down, with a sheepish grin for Kaworu and hands still insensible, he discovered that he was aroused. His eyes, full of the honesty of sleep, locked on Kaworu's own, a boy's subtle challenge.
"Hey, Kaworu. Look what you did!" Shinji grinned, blushing as always, yet unashamed. Amused, maybe, Kaworu thought - but Kaworu was still appalled at what he'd allowed to happen. Shinji's cheeks glowed with something else, though, something matching the shade of his swollen member. And when he continued, his voice was surprisingly level, amazingly matter-of-fact. "I didn't know what was happening. I thought it was all a dream. And then you were washing me, touching... me. Mmm, so gentle..." He reached for Kaworu's hand. "So beautiful... I'm glad that it wasn't a dream, Kaworu-kun. I feel as if I could fly, too."
Kaworu's alabaster skin blanched further. A cold thrilling finger found his spine. So Shinji remembers, he thought. But no trace of panic, nor even anxiety came over the face of the smaller boy. Maybe he wasn't really awake after all. If he really does remember, he'll have to ask about it. Or maybe...
"Kaworu-kun? My heart, it feels odd." His voice was still muzzy, distant; his brow furrowed; eyes turned soulward. "Like - like it's been washed somehow. The way you washed my feet. My, umm..." He glanced down at himself, and, his characteristic modesty now returning, covered himself with his long shirt. "I suddenly feel clean. Empty, but good. I feel like my heart could grow and swell, and make a safe and private place, wherever it was that I happened to be." Shinji made an odd face, as if judging the sound of his own words, and finding them somewhat incredible.
He looked around in the dimness, not quite comfortable about what he'd just shared, finally realizing where he was, too. "Your room?" His friend nodded, smiling and concerned, openness on his face. Shinji felt the blanket beneath his hands, the softness of it under his legs, his bottom. He sniffed, then inhaled deeply the familiar, warm-yet-brisk essence that Kaworu's physical self impressed on the room. It's so comfortable here, he thought, so peaceful. I could stay here forever. He smiled, languidly, lying back on the pillow. The bed was still made, Shinji realized.
"Kaworu-kun? Have you not slept at all tonight?" The relaxed, sleepy glow of his face was shadowed with concern.
"I'm OK, sweet Shinji. Just... up late. Thinking." He laughed. "I bet you know all about that, lying awake. Thinking." The smile was kind, but knowing.
Shinji nodded, uncritically. His eyes beckoned.
"Then come lie down, too, Kaworu. With me..." The look of trouble on his face grew a bit, even as his hand patted the bed beside him. "There's room enough, I think. And more," he added, quickly. Anxious about needing, anxious about what might be. Shinji was anxious further about what might happen instead: rejection, Kaworu realized.
"And...," the smaller boy looked away, "... my heart. It doesn't seem to want so much room to itself, after all, I guess. At least, not tonight," he drifted off, in strange realms. I'd never sleep with anyone, he thought. Well, not anyone but...
He sees it within, Kaworu realized. But he doesn't trust it. Tonight has been so odd... For us both.
Kaworu hesitated. The angel was calling; had never stopped calling, really. His heart - his own heart - was calling him back to vigil. To gain wisdom. To go within and merge with the universe everywhere. To become one with all things. To live forever.
Come, the voice said.
But he was drawn to the large, liquid eyes of his small, trusting friend. Their need beckoned him, too. Caught him between a boy and an angel. He understood about the washing, now. Well, he understood what he'd done, but not how. If Shinji felt hollow, it was with cause. For Shinji's fear and self-hate, so much of what he called 'me' within, was held at bay, set aside for a while tonight. Kaworu had simply wanted the other boy to be able to rest. Tried to give him a gift. Maybe I've gone too far, he wondered.
But Shinji's eyes were growing uneasy, his mind unsure of many things, night-fears waiting just beyond the circle of light. Touching his heart unasked, was far worse than the other places I touched, Kaworu realized, even with the best of my intentions. And Shinji was remembering now, too. Confusion, anxiety came upon the small boy's face, his heart. Soon there would be no stopping it. He might cry. Or scream. Or go rigid with terror, like the soldier.
Oh heavens! Kaworu thought. Not my Shinji! No! And yet the feather touch, the promise of wonders, the taunt of immortality - the whisper of eternal obligation - crouched just outside the firelight of his mind, calling from the darkness. There was another priority.
You have greater works to do. Come to me, it said.
But Shinji's heart called to Kaworu, too. His need. His great need. Shinji's trembling, virginal openness to receive at this very moment. And Kaworu's own best need to serve. To give.
It's what I am now, he thought. With knowledge of man's heart, there comes my duty to serve. With knowledge of his unending sorrows, the unending depth of my own heart.
I am here for a reason. I was born for this.
Wait, he told the angel. Just wait. There's something I must do.
And the angel within nodded, sensei of the soul. Best wishes, it whispered. We've learned well.
Kaworu smiled, looking more than a bit tired himself. For indeed he was.
"You're right, Shinji. We should both rest. Maybe there's a big day ahead of us." He stood, freed the lacings at the neck of his shirt. It came easily over his head. A brief chill passed in the air-conditioned dimness of his familiar room.
Shinji watched, mesmerized by Kaworu's beauty and maturity. His strength. Trim lines and flat planes of adolescence. Then suddenly he remembered to avert his eyes, giving privacy. He busied himself moving under the covers, attending to comfort, while thinking not of comforts at all. His firm, stirring boyness was suddenly distracting.
"Shinji-kun?" The younger boy looked up, reflexes of loneliness defeating shame and politeness. Kaworu had turned, his gaze catching Shinji's earnest eyes. Khaki pants fell to the floor, unnoticed by either boy. They held each other's hearts like that for a time.
The tenshi's dispassionate coolness was growing in Kaworu, he knew: that burning, bright love which is so near to rage as to be indiscernible by mortals. Yet a burgeoning warmth in his chest, a budding hotness at his groin, told him he was still human, still the open and loving boy he'd always been.
And, freed from his own fears and self-loathing, Shinji watched within himself a blossoming, a spring morning there in the depths of night, in this sterile, technological vault in the bowels of the planet. The feeling was at once a beauty and a worship. Shocking in its frankness; its raw power; its baseness. It was the thrust of life struggling against the cruel angels, of omnipenetrant being striving against eternal nothingness, of the firm demanding press of flesh into wet receiving flesh.
Desire.
"This is my heart," Shinji whispered, shy in awe of his inner self. This is why I wrestle the memories of my own heart, demons without mercy. This is why I try to understand and learn from Rei. And to comfort and befriend Asuka. To open myself, and receive what sweet, lost Misato offers. Why I try and try - and come back and try again - standing before Gendo (my dad), even when I know he'll never be any different. Or love me.
There wasn't the slightest trace of self-pity there. Only weary sadness.
"Your heart?" Kaworu asked, gently. He stood before Shinji, now crouching to turn back the covers, now tending to the short white underpants filled with his adolescence.
Shinji nodded, mechanically, scanning the older boy's chest and stomach, the tracery where muscle would someday be, the beginnings of patterned furrows. Embarrassed modesty was gone, seemingly.
Kaworu stood, letting Shinji's curious eyes take him in. This is a gift, he thought. He's finally waking up.
This is my gift to Shinji. Me.
He slipped beneath the covers. Shinji's leg against his was surprisingly hot.
Shinji stretched, rolling on his side to face Kaworu, who lay on his back with both hands behind his head. Shinji was as casual as if they'd done this a million times, neither boy still quite sure it was really going to happen. His own head found a soft, comfortable place on the other's chest, and his hand, the hollow tummy. He let out a long, deep, innocent sigh, rich in relaxation and heavy with peace. Contentment, like a wave, broke over his face, shuddered through his limp form. Heaven can't be any better than this, he thought. It's like having my own angel.
Shinji looked up. Kaworu was smiling, heart-stoppingly sweet, and warm as jasmine tea. Yes, with a face like that, he could be, too, Shinji thought. An angel. The same cold finger that touched Kaworu earlier took Shinji by surprise, as he cuddled, snug and so complete.
Kaworu's hand burrowed down, under the blanket, to caress and warm him. It felt so good on his bare back.
It was then he realized that his gown was bunched up about mid-chest again. Probably from squirming, into bed and into the snuggle, he realized. But it was warm and safe under the blanket. He trusted Kaworu, and his bareness didn't bother him. He gasped audibly, though, as it became suddenly plain to himself that his own small maleness was pressing, sensitive and wet, against Kaworu's firm, smooth thigh. Even as strangely unafraid as he was, Shinji froze.
"Are you OK, Shinji-kun?" Kaworu had seen the expression on his face change. "I won't touch you if you don't want." Was there regret in the voice? Shinji wondered. Disappointment? But Kaworu had misunderstood, of course. The hand on his back was still. Hesitant.
"It's fine, Kaworu-kun. Really. Great, actually. But, well, you see..." He bit his lip, summoned himself. It felt so good to be honest. So strange. Not to want to run away, for the first time. If only for tonight. "I was worried because I'd... well, been touching you back." He gave an indicative roll of his hips. A giggle turned to a gasp, as fresh, moist flagrant pleasure coursed up his length.
Kaworu laughed, too. "Aww, that? I knew about that. It's OK. Just happens, sometimes." But this wasn't a just-sometimes, Kaworu knew. Not at all. This wasn't going to be an accident. He had to be sure they both knew that. He hesitated, then ventured, "You can stay there, if you like. Against me. I mean, if you think it's OK. For as long as you want, too... It feels nice having you close, you know?"
Shinji nodded, snuggling. "Nice for me, too. And not just cause of..." He grinned, rolled his hips again. And laughed. "You know, I didn't believe anything could feel this good. It's like - it's like there's a line between my - the feelings... they go straight to my heart. Not at all like, well, when I lie awake at night. Listening to my music. And, you know... touch myself. Not, not like that at all!" He blushed, unseen in the dark. Unused to such frankness.
Kaworu grinned, too, caressing the boy's smooth back, lower and lower. His hand came to rest on the roundness of Shinji's bottom; the small, tight muscle there moving gently, as Shinji tried out the motions of love for the first time; the cleft between, clean and moist with sweat. There was no reason to rush. It felt so good just to be lying there, sharing the moment with Shinji, sharing themselves, the first time for both of them. There would be plenty of chance to learn and experiment, he was sure. And he was so restful and relaxed, himself, that the pressure of his own adolescent excitement was a distant humming throb. Undemanding, as yet.
Shinji's small hand on his lower belly was enough. It explored, shyly, encountering the slightest happy trace of soft, new fuzz at the navel. More followed lower, the curious hand pretending not to need to explore, but discovering, casually, nonetheless. His other arm had made its way around Kaworu's back, pulling him closer. Kaworu moaned, unconsciously as Shinji's little finger found the base of him, the hand pressed flat as if it knew of Kaworu's maleness curving back over it. Shinji stopped, and held very still.
"Kaworu-kun? Is this all right? I mean, it's not, like, bad or anything?" He was quavering with uncertain emotion.
"No. Love isn't bad. Except where fear paralyzes the heart. There, there can be no love. Pain only. And sorrow."
"But... I mean, this isn't going to hurt you, is it? Will you feel bad, after?" The earnestness in the voice made Kaworu want to cry. For he had just been thinking about Shinji's morning-after, himself.
Anything but that, Shinji thought, I'd never want to hurt Kaworu. Never. Kaworu isn't trapped like me. Trapped by pain, by memories. He's so pure. I don't want to soil him with the filth of my heart... that is my heart.
"Of course not, Shinji-kun. You are sweet, and beautiful. Fragile as glass. And strong as an Eva." Kaworu knew. He sensed that this was as close as Shinji could get to himself before the bindings broke, and shame and guilt flooded back in. And he knew that Shinji couldn't be allowed to remember this - to remember tonight at all - no matter how good it might be for both of them. No, Shinji would have to forget. But in the meanwhile, there was still a chance. And time enough for love.
He slid his other hand across his belly, lacing fingers with Shinji. "My heart's purity for you, Shinji-kun," he offered. And placed Shinji's trusting hand onto himself, curving the boy's trembling fingers around, moving the small, tentative hand slowly, gently, upon himself.
Shinji gasped, feeling the firmness, the heat of Kaworu's rigidness within the velvet outer sheath. He reveled the motion, the glide, the familiar shape of manhood within: its clefts and ridges. A wave of spinning emotion made him dizzy. If I weren't lying down right now, he thought, I'd faint! His hand encountered a trickle of wetness, and he sighed, tightening his grasp and snuggling excitedly, at the evidence of his best friend's joy.
Kaworu had clenched his jaw, but a moan escaped anyway, as Shinji's hand gave him first touch. It was overwhelming, the pleasure. "Aww, Shinji-kun! Slower, please!" he hissed, as kindly as he could. "You were right! It's not like anything I ever did to myself."
"You do it too?" The surprise - and wonder - in Shinji's breaking whisper was only too obvious. His stroke on Kaworu became less hurried, less gripping. Less demanding.
"Yeah. I lay in my bed, sometimes. And think of where I came from. Of what's going to happen. It makes me feel lonely, too."
That thought made Shinji pause.
"But Kaworu-kun! Everyone loves you! You've got no reason to feel lonely." Clearly it distressed Shinji, Kaworu knew. Better just to get away from this place, this dark dell in the sinister landscape of the mind.
Kaworu noticed that Shinji's slender hips had ceased in their movement. The gentle, soothing thrust and glide against his leg was gone. He placed his hand full on Shinji's bottom, drawing a gasp from the other end of Shinji, and pressed the youth against him. He slid his best friend's slender teenage length against his own leg, with a thrill of joy in his heart to be giving in such a way. There was a cry of pleasure from the small head resting on his chest, as Shinji's hips suddenly remembered what to do.
"Kaworu-kun," came the sweet, trembly voice. "I'm, ya know, close..." From the intensity and quickness, it wasn't hard to tell. There was a forcefullness in that voice, a self that had been so out of reach.
Shinji felt a hand at his shoulder, gently and insistently rolling him onto his back. Anxiety muted to a smile, and a wink, as Kaworu moved briefly over him, grinning back into his eyes. I could never be afraid with you, Shinji knew, and touched his friend's cheek, briefly penetrating moist lips with his finger, as the beautiful angelic face slid away.
Kaworu's fist closed around boyness, drawing a gasp from Shinji as Kaworu pulled him into his mouth. It was incredibly hot and sweet, softer than candy and strong as Shinji's heart. He nursed and kissed that most sensitive of places, his friend's hands on his head, demanding, pleading, the fingers combing and twining and ruffling his wild silvery hair. Shinji's hips rose to meet his wet mouth, and Kaworu concentrated, focusing on Shinji's pleasure. His hands gripped and explored the boy's soft, smooth behind, discovering the secrets between. But Shinji's finish was denied to Kaworu, as the boy raised his legs, pulling free from his lips.
"Please," he begged. "Kaworu-san, I'm for you. Please... Please take me." His eyes were huge, dark with lust, and shining wet with trust absolute: with deep, deep need. He panted, still close to the edge, trembling with anticipation. "Kaworu-kun, I want you."
Kaworu's heart was touched. A single tear splashed, suddenly, from his nose, rippling the smaller boy's belly like a raindrop in a pool. He realized at that moment how much Shinji meant to him. And how much he meant to Shinji! For there was nothing but honesty in the dear, sweet friend huddled beneath him, open, ready to give and be taken. He wavered, crouched uncertainly over his love, feeling need throbbing insistently between his legs, pounding in his heart. Yet it was still somehow distant, remote. Tonight is for giving, Kaworu knew: giving, for me; wholeness, for Shinji. And as his weight came down upon his small friend, eliciting a shared groan of pleasure, he realized it - Shinji's heart needed more than Shinji's body could understand.
"Shinji-kun," he said, licking his lips and sitting back, pressing his friend's small, delicate feet down to rest flat on the sheet. "I want to try something else." A subtle darkening, and Kaworu's shadow eclipsed the shining brightness of Shinji's eyes, as disappointment and fear of rejection passed over them, to be replaced by uncertainty. Kaworu crept towards the pillow, sitting back on his heels above Shinji's groin. The boyness beneath him was rigid and undeniable, unbelievably wet and ready. He could feel it pulse against his behind. Hands gripped his thighs - two pair of them - as Shinji took him, lacing their fingers together with a cry. He sighed, giving in utterly to a moan, at the supple, buttery feel of Shinji's intimate penetration.
Dark eyes stared into red, hands locked together, as they gave and took, took and gave. Laughter, shyness, timid sharing and trusted secrets: all surrendered to the most grown-up of childhood games, as two boys learned the destiny for which boyhood was meant. Yet play it was, too, as one chased and the other followed, pursuing atemporal joy, with unrelenting flesh and awareness turned inward, the peak of all things. Their groans and a rich, heady, wild scent unlike they had ever known filled the air.
As the yell tore itself from Shinji's throat, Kaworu went helplessly over the edge. He felt his best friend's firm, sharp, demanding warmth change to soft, thick, luxurious fire within him, and he lost control. He gripped Shinji's fingers in his own, straining, covering the boy beneath him with ample, steaming trails of his love and joy. He panted and groaned, raining whiteness, light and pure as an angel's wing, upon face and chest and belly and heart, receiving in turn, the best that Shinji had.
Shinji gripped Kaworu's bottom roughly, raping it forcefully, with his last few strokes, reveling in savage power, yelling with abandon as he took and gave, gave and took. Guilt and shame were no where to be found, and he fed his lust, his desire, with only a passing thought for Kaworu and his pleasure. But as he looked up into the glowing red eyes of his angelic friend, all he saw was satiety and lust. And joy. The shaggy silver hair was damp now, and beads of sweat, like pearls against his ivory skin, dabbled Kaworu's forehead and nose, his hair darkened rather near to Shinji's own.
Shinji was lost to himself, then, lost in a world where there was no fear to hang onto. No self-hate to anchor to. No place to run, and no desire to run away ever again. And he didn't even feel afraid of it. Strength flowed into him from somewhere, somewhere unknown. Swept up, with new and surprising boldness, he pulled Kaworu to him for a kiss.
Kaworu was still trembling, his new sensitivities overloaded with pleasure. Shinji's tongue took his mouth without mercy, and he surrendered to it, meeting kiss with soft, wet, loving kiss. He'd never have believed it could be this way, even knowing all he did, courtesy of Tabris. What an awesome thing it is to be human, he exulted, feeling his own boyness bask in the pooling wetness on Shinji's abdomen.
The washcloth was near-to-hand, and still quite wet. Though exhilaratingly cold, now. Kaworu used it to clean Shinji thoroughly, and take care of himself as well. He just couldn't bring himself to leave after the love they'd shared, even for a moment. When Shinji got up for the bathroom, Kaworu was startlingly lonely. He felt so strangely fragile himself, needy. He had to have his small friend against his naked chest and belly, the soft dark hair snuggling into the hollow of his shoulder. He pulled the boy close, feeling he would die without Shinji, knowing now that what he was feeling was so much like Shinji's own constant inner torment. He'd taken him within, and Shinji's feelings, too. Maybe given Shinji something in return, he hoped.
"Kaworu-kun?" The voice was shakier than ever before. Was Shinji feeling ashamed, at the last? The boy still panted, eyes dark, face glowing. "Kaworu, I feel something inside me. A force, like. It's strong. And deep. And..." He hugged Kaworu tighter, making a fist against his back. "You know, I suddenly feel like I could battle an angel with my bare hands, and win!"
Kaworu's gasping shudder gave Shinji a small start. He snuggled his best friend closer, warming him.
"I know... I know what it is." Foreboding gave way, as the presence of Tabris came to him, forcefully, in sudden power and warning. But he was still so filled with Shinji, heart and body and spirit, so totally caught up in love and beyond himself, that he continued without precaution. "It's the holy light of your soul. It surrounds every living thing. It will protect you, and defend your heart from intruders." He smiled, catching Shinji's eyes in his. "A gift, Shinji."
"But, Kaworu-kun, I don't understand." His eyes were large with wonder.
"I'll show you how to use it. How to make..." The angel within Kaworu suddenly cut him off. He felt a stab of guilt, a new thing for Kaworu. He had a mental idea of guilt, of course, though he didn't know what he'd done wrong.
Everyone knew what an AT field was...
The undeniable voice from just outside the shadowed borders of his mind grew suddenly in pitch and intensity, like the wail of a distant siren at dawn. Something couldn't be put off much longer, and daybreak wasn't far off. Yet warm and comfortable, languid and relaxed, he knew it had to be done, too. But he didn't want to, though. Wonderful as the love between them had been, Shinji must now forget. He raised his fingers to Shinji's temples, and closed his eyes, a tear welling out at what they both were about to lose.
Shinji stared at him, wide-eyed. Completely open, for the first time. Trusting. Innocent and unaware.
But does it have to be this way? Kaworu stalled. He sat up quickly in bed, searching. Can't I give him something, a way of capturing this again? There had to be a way!
Tabris was silent. Disapproving, as one who looks upon something he'd really rather stop, but doesn't have much choice in the matter.
"Shinji-kun... I have something for you." He cast about quickly, almost frantically, looking for the right thing. He had no idea for what he sought, just that he'd be sure of it when he found it. Clothes, his shoes, a book borrowed from the library. No, none of those. On his night stand was a pile of stuff, the sundry things that collect in a boy's pockets. But that didn't catch his eye. There lay an almond cookie, the simple, common Japanese sort, saved from his dinner as a bedtime snack. The tea in the pot was surely cold, by now, but that wouldn't matter.
"For you," he said, deftly dividing the pastry. He replaced one half on the plate. Shinji's eyes were shining with love. Wonder and curiosity, touched with a little fear by Kaworu's sudden excitement, were on his face. "Don't be afraid." Kaworu put the treat carefully to Shinji's moist lips, holding his gaze with his own as he slowly fed him. "My strength and my love, Shinji-kun. My soul... and my heart... and all that is within me." Kaworu sipped from the small porcelain cup. "And this is for purity and hope..." He touched Shinji's mouth gently with it, waited while he drank. The half-full cup joined the scrap of cookie on the small table. It would be the key to unlock his memory again, this simple meal. Shinji curled into himself, drawing up his feet under the blanket, holding onto something deep within his heart.
The angel was calling. And Tabris wasn't pleased.
Then Kaworu began to cry, for the very first time in his life. So these are tears, he thought: the fate of mankind, beginning and ending in sorrow. He was amazed at the downpour from his heart, as droplets pattered upon his hands, darkened the sheets. Yet his concern wasn't the intelligence within his own head, nor the slowly dawning realization of what he was, and what he was going to do that very morning. It was for Shinji, the only boy who had ever loved him.
Shinji looked up, frightened at the most impossible thing he'd ever seen. "Kaworu-kun," he said, drawing the weeping angel into a hug, "Why are you crying?" He stroked the silvery hair, surprised at his own strength, and shocked deeper at Kaworu's sudden frailty. What's going on here?
"Because I love you, Shinji-kun," Kaworu said, his voice thick and rough. The tears flowed, natural and good as rain in summer. "Because I love you more than anyone. And I don't ever want to be without you. I can't live like that. I finally know it now." He nodded to himself, head on Shinji's shoulder as he was held and stroked, comforted by the boy he'd set out to comfort in the first place.
"Kaworu-kun, but I'm not going anywhere. See? I'll always be here with you." He touched Kaworu, his small palm flat on the angel's bare chest. He is still so needy, so young, Kaworu thought. So still wanting to care for me so I'll love him. At least he won't remember this pain either...
Kaworu sniffled, kissing Shinji on the cheek as he sat up. Shinji's eyes were ready for tears as well, sharing his best friend's misery, but strength and joy flowed out of him, too. I don't deserve you, Kaworu thought.
"I'm OK, now," he said. "Was my first time, too."
Shinji grinned. "Yeah. And the best ever."
Kaworu nodded. "The best." He sat against the wall at the head of the bed, and cuddled Shinji back against him, arranging the blankets as for sleep. But he wouldn't sleep tonight, he knew. The summons of the angel was final, now. He looked to the nighttable, at the signs of friendship shared, the keys to remembering, and he placed his hands on the sides of Shinji's head.
"Too bad he'll never have time for that," said Tabris.
"Maybe," answered the angel. "Maybe so."