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[astrobleme]

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[paraclete]

[Kaworu had begun before Shinji came awake, and he hasn't stopped. He has blanket upon blanket and pillow upon pillow, and other soft miscellany, too. And he's arranging each and every piece of bedding--each and every--around the lines of Shinji's body. He covers Shinji; he tucks soft things against him. Right now, he's pulling up a soft shrug of a blanket up toward Shinji's neck.]

Anything you need can be had right here. All you'll do is tell me, and I'll bring it back here to you. Whatever you like. [Kaworu withdraws enough to observe his handiwork, pursing his lips thoughtfully. Then he comes near again, to rearrange a little cushion near Shinji's hip.

He does pause to touch his fingers to the hair at Shinji's forehead.]

I'll get this just right, too, don't worry.

[astrobleme]

[For a long time, for the longest time, this kind of day would've passed without incident, or recognition, or anything good or particularly bad, even. He'd sit by the phone, waiting for a call, and that's a call that wouldn't come--so he'd carry on with the rest of his day like it were any other day in his nondescript life. He still wouldn't mind treating it like any other day, even now, even with everything being so different and stuff. Seventeen. That's the first thing he thinks when he opens his eyes, a little bleary, a little watery and wary. Kaworu's fingers are touching his brow in a drizzle of affection that leaves him feeling thirsty. Seventeen years old, though. His seventeenth birthday. The more he thinks about that, the more he wants to sink deeper into the blankets and pillows and go back to sleep. He doesn't want to deal with getting older, but it also isn't the worst thing in the world, he thinks...]

Anything...

[His voice is quiet and too light to be a grown man's, no matter the velvet rustle of sleepiness. Seventeen years old, and Shinji still hasn't aged a day; that's just the fate of an Evangelion pilot. (He doesn't think that much about Eva anymore, for better or worse.) He shifts slightly, then stretches out one of his legs, then bends the other leg all the way up, already comfortable and seeking out more of it.

He mumbles,] How long have you been awake for?

[paraclete]

[Light, and quiet, and a velvet rustle... Kaworu sighs. Shinji's mumble makes Kaworu sigh. It's lovesick. They shared a bed last night--they share a bed--and Kaworu holds Shinji in so many ways, day to day, hour to hour within the night--if he's one moment gentle, the nest he may be forlorn and fierce, holding onto Shinji in defiance, in refusal to relinquish him. And then he'll be delicate and sweet, after that. Even with all this, Kaworu is lovesick when he sighs, his yearning plain and plaintive but somehow an indulgence, too. He sounds like a boy who wishes to confess his affection.

But he is carefully arranging a soft nest around and over Shinji's body. His affection isn't hard to come by.

He's tucking some hair behind Shinji's ear when he says,] Yeah, anything. I mean that. I've been awake for about two hours. But I didn't want to change your face, so I didn't wake you.

[His hand withdraws from its soft stroking of Shinji's ear. He surveys the scope of Shinji, tucked in so soundly, and then he fits himself further onto the bed. Then he's curling into the nest he's made around Shinji, one arm draped over Shinji's abdomen, his head resting on Shinji's stomach. He closes his eyes.] Thanks, [he says.]

[astrobleme]

[Shinji still isn't fully awake when Kaworu answers him, and when Kaworu arranges his hair for him, and when Kaworu climbs back into bed with him, getting in close. He tries to yawn, to rouse himself at least a little, but he gives up halfway through and relaxes again. It's quiet in here. Peaceful. He doesn't know what the heck Kaworu could be thanking him for, but it isn't a painful thing to hear. Being acknowledged doesn't have to be painful.]

Kaworu-kun...

[As neatly tucked in as he is, more like buried treasure than not, Shinji figures out how to free one of his arms from the layers upon layers of blankets. His fingers seek out the top of Kaworu's head, where the hair is all soft and overgrown; he's really been letting it grow out a lot. Not that it's a bad thing. There's something that just feels right about it when Shinji pushes his fingers into Kaworu's hair, greeting him in that way. It feels like a return to simpler times, even though that doesn't make any sense.]

You should know, if it's you... [He sighs, too. It's a blurring of sound.] If it's you, then I don't mind having to wake up. It's fine with me. It would be fine... [Maybe he has gotten a bit lazy, though. He tends to sleep long past the time he would've gotten up to get ready for a school day, for sync-testing, for whatever else. Well, Kaworu has told him not to strain himself if he can help it, and the cradle of warm bedding is its own argument...

Quietly, unhurriedly, as his thoughts loop back around:] Think I'm supposed to be the one thanking you.

[paraclete]

[An easy pace. Some measured steps. Kaworu has talked before about the merits of that--just do what feels right. That sort of thing. He's talked about it like an authority, but gentler--like a guiding hand at the small of the back. He's talked about it like he's lived his life under tutelage of poise and felicity. His language, and his love language, and his mild and aerial tongue, should not allow for the morning's easy pace to be a novelty.

It still feels like one, though. Unhurried, Shinji murmurs his mind's refrain. He's brushing his fingers through Kaworu's hair, which feels like a refrain all its own--Kaworu has this cowlick at the top of his head that grows more outspoken the longer his hair gets, and whenever Shinji touches it, something inside of Kaworu wells up hard and high, rising near to his eyes... And it's strangely comforting. Kaworu doesn't feel so much like he's being punished for his ignorance. When he comes to rest with Shinji's body, when he is allowed that, he doesn't feel like he's being punished. And so it's novel. A haze is something Kaworu has previously associated with fear and failure, with utter stupidity. Now the haze of Shinji's sighing, and his little, encircling voice, bring Kaworu to admit that...] I don't mind having to wake up. [His eyes are free to flutter in a quiet joy. And his own joy is unhurried, too. Speaking of novelties--

Kaworu realizes, in the calm and the quiet of here and now, that he doesn't need to hurry to ply Shinji with good and joy. He can take his time. They have time, now, for Kaworu to attend to this spot of delight and then that one. He opens up his eyes completely, and turns his head to look along to Shinji.] If it's you, I don't mind having to wake up. I didn't know what it was not to mind until just now, I think. You're amazing, Shinji-kun, to do something like that when neither of us realized.

[It's a thick few seconds, more the cotton than the gauze, and then Kaworu pulls back, both in weight and with his body. He's laughing a little, one of those cloud-like puffs of breath, when he sits up again. He says again,] Thanks. [It's really light, and cool and fresh like mist.] For that. [Then he squirms into a bustle, once more fluttering with his hands and his thoughts.] Oh, I also have-- [He's up and away from the bed, but not too far--just far enough to fetch a pair of socks. One is cream colored with a navy star print; the other is colored butter yellow, with a pink star print. Both prints are different, with various shapes and sizes for their stars. Kaworu fusses for a moment, before tucking them somewhere along the side of the nest.]

[astrobleme]

[Of course there's a real part of Shinji that is agonized as the sight of mismatched socks, and how they're being used as additional bedding. Of course there is. It's the same part of him that doesn't care for this many blankets being used at once--that's just going to lead to more laundry--along with this many pillows and these fuzzy bath towels and what feels like a soft sponge down near his left foot. He sighs all over again. He's getting ready to reprimand Kaworu a little bit, even if he isn't all that serious about it--and then he starts laughing, too. Well, he's heard of new brides being carried across the threshold and placed upon silk finery with rose petals and whatever else. He's heard of honeymoon suites and over-water villas. A far cry from some goofy starry socks, yeah, but...]

Oh, come back here, [Shinji says, unable to stop this smile, as he reaches up to lightly clasp both sides of Kaworu's face. It gives him a seriously weird sense of déjà vu, holding onto Kaworu like this. It makes him want to run his fingers through Kaworu's overgrown hair some more and scold him for not brushing it as often as he should. But longer hair makes for better anchor points, and he draws Kaworu back down to him, closer to him, as inevitable as water meeting the shore.] Don't tell me... Kaworu-kun, don't tell me you went around looting the rooms of your crewmates to get this much stuff together. Anything you borrowed you're gonna have to put back, you know.

[paraclete]

[If Kaworu knew more about honeymoons, then maybe--yeah, actually--it's like that, right? The bliss of togetherness. Kaworu is relaxing into the idea that he and Shinji will remain in a state of togetherness. The present moment is to be savored when it's an early bite out of the greatest meal ever set before him. He'll never have to be hungry again. Neither of them will have that. Hunger is a relic of loneliness. The time for that is finished, and now is the time for Shinji's hands to anchor Kaworu right at the seat of eternity. To guide him through the court of fate. It was meant to be this way all along...

He's trying to be solemn. He's trying to make a serious vow, and so he purses his lips. Shinji is just below him, surrounded with whatever softness Kaworu could get his hands on--Shinji is looking up at him from a plush place, an earnest labor. So Kaworu tries to make that serious vow, but it turns out he can't stop this smile, either. He's like cherry syrup for redness of heart and the thick sweetness to him.] Then I won't tell you anything but 'happy birthday' and 'I love you'. Hey, you look good in here.

[astrobleme]

[Every time... I love you. Every time Shinji is allowed to hear that, it's more of a physical blow than anything else. It slams him right in the gut, knocking the air out of him, and he can't say it hurts at all. Maybe it frightened him in the beginning--all right, it scared the hell out of him--he still doesn't know how it's possible--either way, he doesn't mind hearing it now. He doesn't mind waking up early if it's to be with Kaworu, and he doesn’t mind hearing Kaworu say that kind of thing to him. He wouldn't mind waking up tomorrow and doing this all over again.

He breathes in. Smells like fresh linen and sunlight.]

Mmm, I could be lying in a pile of trash, and you'd say I look good... [But that doesn't mean Kaworu's words are any less a privilege or a comfort. Shinji can't stop this smile, and he can't stop the splash of pink on his cheeks, either, for what it's worth. He only stretches out beneath Kaworu, getting more comfortable, as his hands rearrange themselves behind Kaworu's neck.] Thank you, Kaworu-kun. I love you, too. [...a short pause, and then:] Just how much stuff did you have to borrow to do all this? [he asks, because he'd rather know than not know, in the end.]