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Apart from his sudden appearance, his bluntness, and his charming character, Kaworu Nagisa dresses almost exactly like Shinji Ikari. Which isn’t an uncommon thing, as most of the students in Tokyo-3 wear the same thing anyway. It’s just part of their uniform. The only thing setting Kaworu’s wardrobe apart from Shinji’s is his honey undershirt.
Kaworu’s apartment is sterile but lived-in. Shinji had already made himself familiar with the floor of Kaworu’s apartment, as he had been sitting there for what felt like hours… though his apartment was unfamiliar, staying at Kaworu’s seemed to be a better option than going back to Misato’s. All Shinji would face at Misato’s was more pain. The walls of his room would trap him, and in it he would remember Rei Ayanami.
Kaworu wasn’t grieving. In fact, he seemed to be doing something of the opposite nature. In the way he had pressed himself to Shinji’s back, wrapped his arms around him, and said things that made Shinji’s skin crawl in a way he didn’t know was good or bad, he seemed to be embracing Shinji’s presence.
“So you say you hate me, but you are comfortable here? You say some pretty funny things, Shinji-kun.”
“Fine, do as you like. Suit yourself… feel free to use the other half of the bed.”
There was no clock in Kaworu’s apartment, but from the way drowsiness had crept upon Shinji, he was considering taking Kaworu’s offer of sleeping in the other half of his bed. Getting up from the floor, Shinji pulls back the covers, only to see that Kaworu had taken his dress shirt off, and what Shinji initially thought was a honey-hued t-shirt underneath was in fact, not… but rather a crop top.
Moonlight streams in from the shutters of Kaworu’s rickety apartment windows, bathing the pale skin of his face, neck, and torso in it. His red eyes were shut, silver hair swept back off his porcelain face, which was sporting a serene expression as it always did. In the position Kaworu was sleeping with his arms up and his hands behind his head, the fabric of his crop top had ridden up even more, and his navy sweatpants hung off his hips in a way that exposes just enough of Kaworu’s torso to make Shinji’s face go red.
“Kaworu-kun, who dressed you?” Shinji exclaims, dropping the covers. Kaworu stirs. He turns his head and blinks open his eyes, pushing himself up to face Shinji.
“You woke me up,” Kaworu says, his voice scratchy. “What do you mean? What’s wrong with my clothes?” Kaworu looks down at himself.
Shinji splutters, gesturing towards the jarring amount of Kaworu’s torso that is still on display. “I mean… do you always wear that under your dress shirt? A crop top?”
“A crop top?” Kaworu questions. “Oh, you mean this?” He pulls at the neck of his honey-colored top, exposing more of his collarbones, and it makes Shinji blush harder. “Yes, I always wear this underneath, it’s lightweight and comfortable, do you not wear the same thing?”
“No, I, I don’t,” Shinji splutters. “Just… never mind. I was going to sleep anyways.”
“Would you prefer me to take it off?” Kaworu asks.
“What, no, I never said that! Keep it on!” Shinji exclaims. “I just… didn’t think you would wear that, that’s all.”
“Really, I can change if it bothers you that much. Though I don’t understand what is wrong with it. Is it seeing my waist that bothers you?” Kaworu asks.
“No! It’s not! It’s just… well, doesn’t it bother you? I mean, I know nobody can really tell with your dress shirt and all, but isn’t it… exposed?” Shinji says.
“My waist? Why would it bother me? Do the Lilin not share this feature? Is there a physical difference between you and me?”
“No, but people might… look. If you wear that,”
“Look? Look all you want, Shinji-kun,” Kaworu says, a slight smile upturning the edges of his lips. “I do not mind.”
“No, not like that,” Shinji rushes to explain. “Not looking like that.”
“What kind of looking do you mean then?” Kaworu inquires. “Are there other ways to look?”
“I mean,” Shinji must be beet red by now. “I mean, pervertedly. Like Asuka said earlier. She explained it to you, right? They look provocatively,” Shinji says.
“Are you afraid of being viewed as a pervert, Shinji-kun?” Kaworu says, a questioning lilt to his head.
“No, no, I wasn’t talking about me! I was just saying in general!”
“Then why would it bother you?”
“It doesn’t!” Shinji exclaims. “It doesn’t bother me!”
“If you are afraid of your actions being undesired or bothersome, you need not worry, Shinji-kun,” Kaworu says. “I do not mind. Look if you want. Touch if you want. I do not mind. Whatever brings you happiness.”
“It’s not like that!” Shinji protests.
“Well, don’t let it stop you from sleeping,” Kaworu says, laying back down. Shinji gets on the bed, pulling the sheets up enough to cover his and Kaworu’s legs, but not their upper bodies. Shinji tells himself it’s because it’s a bit warm.
It’s not that weird, Shinji thinks, squeezing his eyes shut. Asuka wears things like that all the time. You never let it bother you. And it’s true.
But there’s something different about it when it’s Kaworu. Shinji opens his eyes. His head is facing Kaworu, and he debates turning over so he isn’t faced with the sight of Kaworu and his slightly parted lips and his much too flimsy crop top, but he doesn’t want to wake Kaworu again. He looks so tranquil like this, so peaceful.
Here’s the thing. Kaworu isn’t extremely muscular by any means. He’s thin, lean, and pale, the way most people are in Tokyo-3. Shinji knows that. He’s seen him in his plugsuit, and he’s well aware of Kaworu’s lithe form, the cinch of his small waist, and the contours of his long legs. But it’s different when it’s Nagisa’s dark, form-fitting plugsuit, and when it’s just his body. The dip of his waist. The plummeting collarbone that looks much too alluring in the moonlight.
Kaworu’s chest rises and falls gently with sleep, and just as Shinji is beginning to relax and accept the tangible distance between the two of them, Kaworu shifts and slings his arm over Shinji’s stomach. He makes a satisfied noise, curling his legs up so they tangle with Shinji’s.
“Kaworu-kun,” Shinji hisses, but to no avail. Kaworu is dead asleep. And his touch seeps into Shinji.
The distance is no longer there, and Shinji’s heartbeat picks up. He debates moving so Kaworu is no longer cuddling him, but when he looks at Kaworu’s face, he looks infinitely peaceful. And somewhere, though Shinji refuses to admit it aloud, Kaworu’s touch is what he wants.
Kaworu’s touch. Even with his arm slung over Shinji and their legs endearingly tangled together, Shinji wants to touch. Don’t be weird, what if he wakes up? Shinji thinks. What’s he gonna say when you’re caressing him in his sleep?
Shinji’s almost certain Kaworu’s asleep. And with that closure, he lets his fingertips press against the skin of Kaworu’s torso, which was ever so exposed by his insubstantial crop top. He skims his fingertips along the dip of Kaworu’s waist - it sends a warm feeling through Shinji’s fingers. It fills the spaces that the day had torn open in him, and his heart swells with it. Kaworu is all kinds of perfect.
Kaworu hums in satisfaction as Shinji basks in the feeling of Kaworu’s tangible, physical presence. He thumbs the edge of Kaworu’s top, still a bit in awe that Kaworu would wear such a thing, though he’s not objecting anymore. Shinji moves his hands up, tracing the edge of Kaworu’s face and down to his collarbone. His mind tells him it’s wrong to be touching Kaworu like this, another boy, and even more pathetic that he’s letting himself submit to such a desire, but the gentle smile on Kaworu’s face and the warmth of his skin splayed against Shinji’s palm tells Shinji otherwise.
Kaworu shifts. Shinji seizes. He’s awake. Idiot. What have you done?
Kaworu curls closer to Shinji, nudging his head into Shinji’s neck. A soft puff of an exhale breezes over Shinji’s skin. Shinji realizes he had been holding his breath, and lets himself relax. He moves his hand on top of Kaworu’s own hand slung over Shinji, intertwining his fingers with Kaworu’s. A warm feeling blooms in his chest and face, and though he feels disgraceful, he pushes it aside so he can embrace the sensation of having Kaworu pressed against him.
It doesn’t bother Shinji anymore. His desire is sated. The rise and fall of Kaworu’s breathing lull Shinji into a sleep of silver hair and red eyes, with his fingers interlaced in Kaworu’s.
And after Shinji has drifted into his long-awaited sleep, he misses it when Kaworu’s eyes open and when he presses a tender kiss to his neck.
“Goodnight, Shinji-kun.”