Chapter Text
The piano wasn’t even that loud- of course it wasn’t, the music room is two doors down from the empty classroom Shinji always does his homework in- but the fluid playing is accompanied by a soft, resounding voice that echoes just slightly through the walls.
The math symbols on his over-erased paper taunt him. Shinji’s good at math, and this is much more peaceful than doing it at Misato’s where the beer cans crowd his homework off the table. This specific question is bullying him, though. He’s almost certain the teacher made a typo in the question itself- maybe he misread it? A headache starts to tap in his temple as he scans it over for the millionth time.
The pianist behind several walls hits a high note that makes Shinji wish he was in there instead. He sighs loud enough to fill the whole classroom with the sound of his defeat, roughly smacking the paper off his desk and imprisoning it inside his satchel. He leans back in the chair. Tips his head back, looking at the ceiling for answers.
Shinji’s good at math. He’s not good at making friends. But seeing as the math he’s so good at has assaulted him and left him to the birds, he considers that talking to someone couldn’t go worse. Or it could, and he’d just embarrass himself twice today.
Sighing again, and hopefully for the last time, Shinji hauls himself out of the seat, pushing the chair in and grabbing his satchel in one motion. I’ll at least peek in, they won’t notice.
As he walks through the door, the thump of his shoes carry him closer, and the music gets louder and more seamless. With the way this guy is performing, he might as well be famous already. If Shinji had any confident bone in his body, he’d make a joke to the mysterious pianist that he should just quit high school and move to Tokyo to make it big. Is that a weird joke to make?
No- no talking. He slows to a halt at the windowless music room door he knows all too well from his own practice sessions- feeling a little sick that he’s not nearly as good. Anxiety starts to creep up the pit of his stomach, and as he stands dawdling, the voice of the singer starts to seem familiar. Maybe he’s in one of his classes? Just a little peek, and then I’ll leave. I’m just curious.
Shinji makes himself reach for the handle and agonizingly pull it down, creating just a sliver of a crack in the door. The black, shiny back of the piano is revealed- he sneaks another inch into the opening.
The familiarity of the voice and the head of messy silver hair hit him at the same time- the voice he usually associates with an air of annoyance, a friend but not really, a barely holding himself back from punching someone type of feeling. The voice that follows him back to his house when he leaves school on time, and whines about hanging out with him. That voice, and no wonder he didn’t recognize it, because right now that voice is singing like a song Shinji would replay on his SDAT until the battery wore out. All the nervousness is immediately vanquished by shock and mortification, and Shinji swings the door open to its full potential, standing straight, gawking at Nagisa.
His friend-not-friend must’ve heard because the singing abruptly stops as he eyes over his shoulder, open shirt collar hitting his cheek- the last few piano keys twinkle out as he plays them softer and softer by memory. Nagisa’s eyebrows raise, a full smile pushes his cheeks up as he swings his legs over the opposite end of the bench towards- “Shinji! I didn’t know you were still here.”
“Nagisa…” What was suppose to come out as a yell is more of a loud groan.
Nagisa has the nerve to giggle. “Come to say hi?”
“No- I didn’t think it was you!”
“What?” Nagisa pouts. “You know I play piano.”
“I know.” Shinji squeaks his shoe against the floor. “I didn’t know you sing.”
“You didn’t?”
“No!”
“Well, did you like it?” Nagisa’s face is a light apple shade as he presses his hands against his lap, eyes gauging Shinji’s reaction.
“It was-” Shinji fights all his instincts as the correct reactions get buried by atrocious ones. Nagisa’s singing is stupidly beautiful! He’s beautiful! Say something mean! “It’s fine.”
“Fine?” Nagisa echoes faintly.
“P-pretty good.” Shinji swallows and looks at his shoes. “Yeah.” Understatement of the century.
There’s a small tick of a wall clock somewhere, and Shinji clamps his hand down on his own wrist out of habit. When he looks up again though, he sees Nagisa’s smile growing until there’s front teeth gleaming from between his lips.
“W-w-what’s with that look?” As if Nagisa had hit a bullseye in his chest on purpose, “You’re not that good.”
“Shinji,” Nagisa laughs, reaching behind him to play a random tink tink on the keys. “If you thought I wasn’t that good you would’ve been a lot meaner.” His hand falls back in his lap. “You always downplay the things that you like- which means…”
“Hey- no, stop analyzing the situation.” Shinji half grumbles half begs, stepping back as Kaworu stands up.
“You think I’m great!” he yells excitedly, a little dance in his step.
“Nuh-uh!” Shinji’s back hits the door. When did I let that close?!
Nagisa saunters over, playfully placing his hands on the wood of the door on either side of Shinji’s shoulders, leaning his weight teasingly in Shinji’s direction. “Wouldn’t hurt to hear you say it though.”
“Never.” Shinji frowns.
“Please?”
Nagisa’s red eyes are hot on him like burning iron- if burning iron could be sweet and skin-warm upon touch. As much as Shinji wants to be offended at their position, there’s really nothing about the excitement in Nagisa’s face or the pinkness in his grinning lips that can be defined as threatening.
Why am I looking at Nagisa’s lips? He chews his own in maddening contemplation. Shinji’s hands raise towards Nagisa’s shoulders with the idea of pushing him away, but in a terribly impulsive decision his fingers curl into the white fabric of his over-shirt and Shinji meets him half way as he drags him in.
A faint scent of strawberry catches him as his trembling lips press into Nagisa’s faintly balmed ones. Shinji feels Nagisa freeze in his hands- his own heart beats too fast and he pulls away just in time for Nagisa to come out of shock and pull him back, and the same voice he used to make flawless music now paints a useless, stuttery whimper on Shinji’s mouth- which he’d play on repeat too, if he could.
“Fuck.” Shinji whispers, finally pushing Nagisa off. He makes once in a lifetime eye contact with the other, letting their little escapade sink in.
Nagisa blushes like he just lost his virginity, eyes wide and lips slightly apart. “Shinji-”
“Nope.” Shinji reaches in back of him to turn the door handle before he even sees it, swiftly scrambling out of the room.
“Hey—” Kaworu squeaks, catching the door and running into the hall to watch Shinji leave. He cups a hand to his mouth, “Call me?!” He yells after him, his request bouncing off the empty corridors.
Shinji’s already at the end of the hall when he sticks his arm in the air- pretty sure that’s a middle finger- before disappearing around the corner.
Kaworu rocks on his heels, licking his lips. As much as he wants to run after him and walk home with him, all Kaworu’s things are still in the music room. Whatever he was worried about before, he can’t even remember now. He feels like he didn’t even exist until Shinji kissed him.
After watching the empty hallway for a moment, he slowly retreats back inside the room, hoping Shinji might kiss him again tomorrow.