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As lanky and awkward as they were, Kaworu’s arms were always a place of warmth and refuge. His sleek, thin sinew was wiry and uncomfortable at times, but nevertheless welcoming. Warm breaths radiated down Shinji’s neck as Kaworu nuzzled closer to him, arms splayed around his waist, bodies pulled near. Various shadows flitted across the window, fleeting signs of Tokyo-3’s constant activity. The SDAT reached the end of the tape after a grand performance of Beethoven’s 4 th (Kaworu had made Shinji a personalized mixtape a week before) and started to rewind itself back to track one. Footsteps and muffled voices from the couple upstairs could barely be heard through the ceiling. Kaworu’s breathing was slow and drawn out against Shinji’s skin. It should have brought upon him an overwhelming peace—a stark contrast to the stress and pain and fear of NERV and the EVAs and the Angels and the pain and the fear and the pain and the pain and please don’t make me pilot anymore I hate it I hate it I hate myself I hate it someone please help me please!
He jolted up with a sudden start, hunched over, breathing heavily, inadvertently pushing Kaworu off of him. Shinji hates it. He hates that he can’t go to sleep without remembering every unpleasant thing at once. He hates that he makes his lover worry when he wakes in a cold sweat. He hates the father who brought it all upon him. He hates it all.
Kaworu, being the light sleeper he was, craned his neck up to look at Shinji with concerned eyes, a hazy, drowsy expression printed on his face. A pale hand rested on Shinji’s shuddering shoulders. Shinji didn’t look at him.
“Shinji? What’s wrong?” Kaworu asked.
“Hm? Oh…it’s…n-nothing,” Shinji muttered in response.
Kaworu sat up and brushed his hand across Shinji’s cheek, cupping his face in his hands. “Are you having trouble sleeping still?” he asked.
“Y-yeah, I guess…” Shinji’s voice trailed off and his face droops down as to not have to meet Kaworu’s eyes. A gentle hand picks his face back up and immediately brings him in for a soft kiss. It’s strange. Kaworu’s kisses used to make him anxious and stressed; Shinji would always instinctively tense up when their lips touched. Now, he couldn’t imagine anything more he wanted than to kiss him. Wrapping his arms around Kaworu’s neck, Shinji tilts his head as Kaworu delicately sucks on his lip. A thin strand of saliva lingers between the two of them as Kaworu breaks apart and brushes his lips across Shinji’s face and down to his shoulder. He gives him playful, loving pecks on his collarbones and gradually moves up to his neck and ear, whispering sweet, reassuring words like “It’s okay now, Shinji,” and “You’re safe, I’m here,” and “I won’t ever let anything hurt you. I love you.”
Kaworu was so…gracious, Shinji noted. No matter what was wrong, he was always there for him, there to comfort him and love him unconditionally. Shinji loved him for this.
After holding each other for a while, Shinji finally broke the silence and spoke in a low voice. “I’m…I’m afraid that they’re going to come back, Kaworu. I’ll have to pilot again. I don’t want any of that.”
“They aren’t going to come back, Shinji. All the Angels are gone now,” Kaworu said, tenderly touching his face.
“I’m still afraid.”
“I know. It’s only reasonable to be afraid after undergoing such trauma,” Kaworu said. Instinctively, Shinji buried his face into Kaworu’s shoulder, still shuddering. A soft kiss was planted on the back of Shinji’s head as Kaworu slowly rocked back and forth, consoling him like a child. It felt nice.
“Aren’t…aren’t you scared of the angels too, Kaworu?” Shinji said in a weak voice, breaking away and looking up at Kaworu. The look in his eyes changed from comforting to concerned, and Kaworu awkwardly tore away from his glance, hesitating to say anything.
“…Yes,” he said, after a moment’s hesitation. “I…I guess I’m afraid that they’ll take me back.” Kaworu’s voice was so small and meek it barely sounded like the strong, confident, fearless Kaworu he’s used to knowing.
”Because you’re…Tabris?”
“…Yes.”
Shinji paused, looking for the right words to say. He struggled to find a way to ask his question without it sounding abrasive or accusing.
“Kaworu…couldn’t you…. You could end the world. Couldn’t you get to Adam if you wanted to?”
“Yes, I suppose.”
“Why don’t you?”
“Because my love for you is stronger than my instinct for Adam.” Kaworu’s head shot up as he made fierce eye contact with Shinji, no hesitation or uncertainty in his words. Shinji realized Kaworu was probably talking to himself as much as he was Shinji, a reminder to not give in to his angelic impulse.
Shinji couldn’t imagine what it was like—he wasn’t an Angel, therefore he bore no connection to Adam. He tried to envision what Kaworu felt to better sympathize with him, but it was a futile attempt. He’s human,—Lilin—not Angelic like Kaworu. Do humans feel a subconscious pull to Lilith? Have they lived all these years unaware of it? He didn’t know.
At a loss for what to do, the only thing Shinji can think of is to lean forward and gingerly kiss the center of Kaworu’s neck. His delicate lips flutter over Kaworu’s angelic, pallid skin. Out of habit, Kaworu’s hand protectively shoots up to his neck as his body instinctively tenses up. Shinji slowly reels back and places his hands on top of Kaworu’s.
“Your core.” Shinji whispered.
Kaworu lets out a small, airy breath before tightly wrapping his hands around Shinji’s back, burying his face into the nape of Shinji’s neck. Shinji hears muffled sobs as tears fall gracefully onto his shoulder.
Kaworu was not impervious to emotion. For a while when they first met, he wore a “cool and collected” façade, but after SEELE’s true intentions were uncovered and the organization was disbanded, they were able to spend more time together. It was during that time that Kaworu began to open up more to Shinji. His true feelings shone through more and more, and he dropped his mask completely. The genuine Kaworu was beautiful, Shinji thought.
Kaworu did not cry often. Shinji has only seen him cry twice in the two years he’s known him, and most of the time Kaworu hides himself away like an ashamed child, endeavoring to have no one see. Kaworu didn’t dislike crying; on the contrary, it made him feel human to experience such raw emotions. But this was the first time he had cried while relying on the comfort on someone else.
“The last time your hands were on my neck….” Kaworu said, voice cracking, “…they were crushing it.”
Shinji’s breath hitched. Kaworu had told him about looping a long time ago, but he had never gone into detail about any of it, never highlighted the events of any past timeline. Kaworu let out a softy breathy laugh, tears still dripping down onto Shinji’s shoulders, and it was the most hopeless thing Shinji’s ever heard. In his laughter, Shinji heard every failed loop, every tragic downfall, every death he’s ever died. A sudden onset of shock came over Shinji as he struggled to come to terms with the fact that he had killed Kaworu. Him, his hands, of his own volition. It was him who caused Kaworu’s despair. Shinji had done this. Tears began pooling in his eyes as well, threatening to trickle down his cheeks.
“Kaworu, I….I’m so sorry. For everything I’ve done to you in the past. I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m so sorry,” Shinji said, raising a hand up to pet Kaworu’s head, entangling his fingers through his silky, silver locks. He squeezed him into a tighter embrace and Kaworu reciprocated by pulling Shinji into a tight kiss. Kaworu clung to Shinji as tightly as he could, afraid that if he loosened his hold even for a moment, he’d lose him again. Shinji kissed back just as strongly, the two of them locked in an intimate act of trust and comfort. They had both hurt each other in the past, in another life. This kiss was a reminder to both of them that in this life, it would never happen again. They could trust each other, they could love each other, and they would never be afraid of the other’s hands again.