I do not own Neon Genesis Evangelion or I Corinthians 13. This fiction contains anal sex.

"At first I could not find you,

now I cannot see you through my tears."

-Ismene, from Oedipus at Colonus

Foot-Loose and Fancy-Free

I heard your call, my Shinji, tinkling helplessly out from your delicate heart. It was a soft and timid overture, the frantic glow of a humble, steadfast faith—chaste, tender, defiant—as warm as moonlight. I could no longer be silent.

Do you have any idea, Shinji, how dauntless you are? God himself tried to stop you, and failed, like a boy trying to batter down a rampart with a sand shovel. You called my spirit from out of the absurdity of communion, and here I stand. Your will was so strong that it infected me, galvanized mine.

Through agonies of sound and vacancy, through the snarl of too much freedom, through long eternities of meaningless succor I have longed for you, my gentle Shinji, always loving, always bowing! What grace to be allowed another chance to be with you.

And this, this is the voice of your unswerving love: you could have had me any way you desired, but you chose me as I am. A boy! A boy with skinny arms and blazing red eyes and knobby knees, who can never seem to keep his laces tied! My Shinji, dear one, you want me as you knew me, and I am warmed by your grace.

Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels,

When I was a young child, I remember a time when I had become very sick. My guardians were mad with worry, and thought that I would surely die. During this time my joints were swollen and painful, my skin burned with fever, and I was unable to eat or drink at all. To breathe required all my strength; it was as though my lungs were filled up with drying glue. At this time I was terrified of death.

Because if I had died then, my life would have been for nothing, with no meaning. A wasteful existence with a shameful end.

But at the end of my life, I faced no fear; I didn’t have to be afraid. I had known you, touched you, loved you. And my life was not for nothing. It was for you.

And I am coming, Shinji, now to be with you again, if you will have me.

How is it that these towers, and these clamorous sounds, and these long, paved gashes cut into the earth are still all the same as before, now, after so much destruction? Is the Lilim spirit so strong and spry that these were built anew so soon? Or were they invulnerable to start with? There are so many things that I have missed.

And there is a great burden lifted from me. I am no longer two, but one. I am entirely human, a boy, Kaworu of the Seashore! with no purpose more profound than to live again, make you smile again, drink cream soda again. I serve no master. My destiny is unwritten.

What freedom, to have no wings.

I don’t know how long I’ve been here, how long it took me to arrive. I only know that I have come here out of yearning for you, and to buy ice cream.

The ice cream vendors should be closing up for the year…it is October, after all, and most are only supposed to be open in the summertime. I can assume that many of them will close soon. Or maybe these people have been steeped in endless summer for so long that they have forgotten certain rules like this, that fewer customers desire cold desserts in bitter weather?

But I have always enjoyed ice cream. Even now that it will be winter soon, I can’t imagine my high regard for it could fall away so easily. I wonder, Shinji, should I buy one for you? Will I see you soon, or must I wait even longer?

How in the world am I going to find you?

Ah, I should have guessed, I should have known! that I would find you by the water. How mercifully quick I found you. I have never enjoyed waiting, although I would have, for you.

You are sitting in a modest but well-kept park, and there is a small lake nearby, or, I suppose, more of a large pond. There are no benches to rest on, so you sit on the grass, looking out toward the water, but with your head bowed. Are you praying, dear one? It is God, Shinji, who should supplicate you for forgiveness.

"Hello. You weren't waiting here for me, were you?"

I think you must have just jumped to a height surpassing your own. Your brown eyes are enormous.

"…Kaworu?"

"Shinji." I can only smile and squeeze my eyes shut, enjoying the sun, and the breeze from the water, and the supreme warmth of being close to you. I open my eyes to look at you again.

Oh, Shinji, you are terrified.

"Are…you a…ghost?"

Silly!

"No, Shinji!" I laugh. "It’s only me, your Kaworu! As real as you. Would you like an ice cream?"

You turn the color of an undercooked beef roast.

"I'm allergic," you sputter quickly, and look down at the grass, still blushing. I kneel down beside you, glad that I don't have to leave to get an ice cream dish. Now that I am with you again, I am content.

I do not regret the things that I have endured; they seem so far away now.

The pain is still there, but it doesn't hurt. Indeed, it has lost its authority to hurt, and is now only a reflection of the pain of being used, of being forsaken. I remember all things but I only care about one thing: to be here with you now.

"Kaworu?"

You are frowning now; I can't decipher the emotion you are showing. You look pensive, filled with sorrow—angry.

"Is something the matter, Shinji?"

"You…Kaworu, why? Why did you force me to kill you?" You begin to sob; you are not crying, but my heart breaks. "I trusted you, and you…lied to me! How can I believe that you loved me? How can I believe anything that you said? You…traitor!"

In all my years—and I don’t know how many there have been—I have never felt so wretched, never so ashamed. I am forced to lower my eyes; I can no longer meet yours. I don’t deserve your love or your forgiveness, after all the terrible grief I have made you endure.

Oh Shinji. My life did not belong to me, in those days. The only choice I ever made for myself was to love you! And in order to save you, I had to do those wicked things. I did it for this, Shinji! So that we could have this very moment together.

I swallow. My breath is coming short in my deep shame.

"I would understand, Shinji, if you want me to leave. I would deny my longing for you, and go, and not return. For you. I would do anything."

"Kaworu, I just don’t understand."

"I’m not sure that I do, either, Shinji, any longer. I only know that I was faced with this choice: die, and secure life for humanity, or live and destroy humanity for all time. To love you was to love humankind, to love your future. I could not have chosen death for you. It is true that death is freedom, but there are many kinds of freedom, and absolute freedom is calamity. You and I are free now, in the sense that we are unfettered by equality—that is, alive."

You are looking up at me again, and your eyes are red with impulse to shed tears. I cannot stop myself from embracing you—oh Shinji! Forgive me.

"What do you mean? I’ve tried so hard to understand…"

"Shinji."

You look up at me, hopeful, waiting for me to speak, to somehow give a comprehensible answer to a tragedy that is mysterious. I can only offer you that which I know, and I know very little.

"Do you see the reflections of the red and golden trees in the water, Shinji? Do you see the ripples that the breeze makes in the surface of the pond, like so many jewels in the sunlight? Do you see the ducks, arrogant in their imagined stateliness? Do you see the frail but infinite colors of God’s unstrung bow of war in the sky? Do you see the shifting clouds, carried off by their own inconstancy? Men had so quickly abandoned the seasons, they had forgotten the reason for summer. Do you enjoy the smell of autumn, Shinji?"

You do not hesitate before you reply, but you don’t hurry, either. Your rhythm enchanted me from the start, my Shinji, dear one.

"It’s beautiful…out here. I come here every day. I think…this is where I’ve always wanted to be. And I do love the fall..."

The four compass points, the four seasons, light and dark, up and down. These things seem arbitrary, but they are essential reference points to the human spirit. You have never experienced autumn, but you know how to react to it, how to enjoy it, how to interpret it, because autumn is intrinsic to your soul.

But Shinji, there is something important that you have never experienced. Mischief.

"Shinji? This may seem sudden, but would you like to come with me to buy some things?"

We purchase two baseball bats from a hardware store that for some reason has a sporting goods section. I make sure to get wooden bats; I do not think that a baseball bat is something that should be made out of metal. It feels better to swing a wooden bat.

Our eggs we purchase at a corner grocery, and we get a couple of cream sodas, also, without paying for them. I’m wearing a coat that’s so long, it reaches past my knees! The material is dark, and it’s very thin, but it keeps out the cold and it hides the two cans of soda very effectively. You almost alert the clerk to our theft by blushing so much, but we get out all right.

Now that we are safely outside, I hand you your beverage, and open mine. I hadn’t realized I’d gotten the kind that is dyed red, but it’s cold and sweet just the same.

"Kaworu? Where are we going…and…why do we need this stuff?"

"We are going seven-and-a-half blocks this way. Then we’ll turn left and go straight that way for about a half mile. By that time, it should be dark outside."

You look at me strangely, wondering if it’s possible that I mean to do what you think I might mean to do, but you’re too polite to ask. That’s good; I think it might be better if it’s something of a surprise.

The sunset is beautiful, the beginning of the end of the day. I can’t remember a time when I have seen the sun look so magnificent. It must be because we are in the suburbs now—not so many tall, tall buildings to block the view. It is getting cooler now, but I am not feeling cold.

"Are you getting too cool, Shinji?"

"No…I’m fine, thanks." You smile nervously.

"May I ask how you have been spending your time, since the resuscitation?"

You are taking a sip of soda when I ask, so you can’t reply right away, but as soon as you’re able, you do.

"I…um, I’m still playing the cello, and…uh, I…work in…I’m a data processor, until I get through school. I’m rooming with Toji, but he’s out of town, visiting his sister. He goes to see her every weekend." You swallow, looking down at your tennis shoes. "I haven’t…spoken to my father, since then. I haven’t even seen him."

The breeze is picking up. It makes my coat swirl to my right side and blow around my legs. Fortunately you are on my left side so it doesn’t bother you.

"What about you, Kaworu? What have you been doing? Do you have a job?"

"Actually, Shinji, I’ve only just arrived. I think. There are many things that I am confused about. For some reason, I have knowledge of the topography of this place. But I have no idea…what city is this?"

We continue to walk, and you tell me what city we’re in, and I recognize it as someplace in Europe, but I can’t remember what nation it belongs to. I don’t interrupt to ask. You tell me also about your uneasy friendship with Asuka, and about a time before "third impact" when you drank some of your caretaker’s alcohol and got sick, and about a model airplane that your friend Kensuke designed himself and is making entirely out of scrap metal. I don’t have much to say, and I am glad to listen to you. You tell me things that I would never know otherwise, would never consider otherwise. This is why I love to hear you speak.

"Here is where we turn, Shinji," I interrupt.

You stop. "Are we going to the audience hall?"

"There’s a concert being held in there. It should be starting now."

"Do you have tickets for the performance? Are we going to be late?"

"We won’t be late." This is going to be so much fun! I think my smile would go right around my whole head, if it weren’t for my ears!

We still have a ways to walk, and there’s no one around, so I take your hand in my own and squeeze it. You blush, but smile, and you allow me to hold your hand as we walk together down the sidewalk beside the road.

There is a kind of energy that only comes from breaking things. It is a swiftness that outruns mortality, an insight that circumvents gravity. The young gleam of a force more violent than wind, delirious in its irreverence, tanked with blasphemy. It’s like drinking from a chalice filled with war. Like catching raindrops on your tongue. Like throwing a snowball at God and knocking his hat off.

And the most enjoyable thing to break is a rule. Other things that are fun to break are the windshields of very expensive cars. And if you have some eggs to throw at them, the pleasure is multiplied a hundredfold.

As we approach our destination, I can’t help but break into a run. You keep up nicely; I suspect you could overtake me if you were trying. You don’t let go of my hand. It makes my insides feel delightfully warm.

I slow down and bend over, put my hands on my knees, and try and catch my breath. It only takes me a second. It was a little awkward running with two baseball bats slung over one shoulder, but it was well worth it. I am glad you were carrying the eggs.

"Here’s your bat, Shinji." I smile more widely when you take it. The music from the concert is very loud, even out here. "You can set the eggs on top of this one. We’ll get them when we come back up this way."

You put the eggs on top of a smallish black luxury car, and watch me with curiosity, and possibly a little anxiety, as I experimentally swing my bat in the air.

Ah, yes. Nice heavy bat.

"Kaworu, what are you…?"

I don’t need to answer your question verbally. A bat colliding with the right taillight of a brand new hunter green BMW is worth a thousand words.

Even above the noise of the bang and the wail of the car alarm, I hear your yell of fear and astonishment. I stop, and smile at you, and you slowly, very hesitantly, take up your own bat in trembling hands.

I walk over to where you are, enjoying the howling music of the alarm. I put my hands on either of your cheeks, and I kiss your face three times. What joy, to touch you. To be with you. To wreck things with you. My Shinji.

"I’ll take that row," you say with a smile, striking a glint of naughtiness in your eyes that I never imagined I’d see. You indicate the row of cars adjacent to the one I just started. I smile and nod, and turn to get the windshield of this one.

A pealing hymn of crashes, smashes, bangs, whacks, cracks, and clatters, all set to the harmony of several different kinds of car alarms, with more being set off every minute! I’m sure that the splendor of this far outstrips that of whatever colorless music is being performed in the audience hall.

I don’t understand: who could stand to be indoors, on a night that shines like this?

I finish with my two rows, and I pick up the eggs and bring them over to where you are. You see me, and stop working, with a genuine smile on your face that I know is entirely involuntary. It’s so thrilling to see you happy like that. I hand you a dozen eggs. I don’t have to tell you what to do with them.

Csrilk. Pfft. Schish. Two dozen of the most beautiful missiles ever.

After our supply of eggs is exhausted, we ditch the cartons and the bats and run. I let you lead the way; you said earlier we could go to your apartment. I don’t think I’ve ever run so fast! You are quite a sprinter. It requires all my strength to stay beside you for the mile-and-a-half to your home, the wind in our faces, the crime in the air, wrapped snugly in the peace that comes of knowing that you are moving as fast as you possibly can.

Once inside, I sit right down on your couch, exhausted. I realize that I’d forgotten to take off my shoes. I am comforted when I see that you haven’t taken yours off either. I think I must have left my jacket at the parking lot, although I don’t remember taking it off.

You sit beside me, grinning in a way that I never would have thought you would be able to.

"We smashed them, Kaworu! We wasted them. We kicked the fucking shit out of all of them!"

"Yes! And then we threw eggs. It was amazing!"

"I’ll go make us something to eat. Do you…want to stay the night?"

You look so precious when you blush. I was hoping you would ask.

"I would be delighted to stay with you, Shinji. Could I help you with dinner?"

"No, I’ve got some things I didn’t finish last night that I can just warm up. It’s only some fish and rice, if that’s all right?"

"I have always loved seafood. It sounds delicious."

I allow myself to look around at your apartment. The walls of this main room, and what I can see of the hallway, are painted a very light shade of blue. The lights are kind of dim; there must be a few bulbs burnt out. There is a picture on the wall of a sailboat on the ocean. The carpet is off-white, and thin. There is a television set on the wall opposite the couch, along with a stack of video cassette tapes. You have a lovely home.

"If you’d like to watch a movie, Kaworu, you can put something in the VCR," you call from the kitchen. I know very little of such things, but it is such a kind offer that I can hardly refuse. I get up and walk over to the neat pile of tapes.

The cassette tape on top is a documentary about silver miners in the Spanish Pyrenees. On the cover, there is a black and white photograph of a man on horseback wearing a big hat, on the side of a mountain, with several other men carrying tools in the background. Some of the printing on the box is in Korean. The title is Legacy of the Visigoths.

I call to you in the kitchen, "How about ‘Legacy of the Visigoths,’ Shinji? Is it good?"

You walk over to look, peeking out from behind the section of wall that separates the great room from the kitchen.

"Oh, that’s Toji’s," you explain. "It’s Spanish or something, a gift from his relative. I’m almost finished, Kaworu, I’ll be right out."

I put the cassette into the VCR, but it seems that it has not been rewound. I hit the button and sit back down on the couch.

You come out of the kitchen with two small plates and two coffee mugs filled with cherry cola. You have forgotten napkins, and you rush back to retrieve them. When you come back, we sit facing each other on the couch, and eat together, relaxed. It’s a modest but very tasty meal, which I savor and enjoy slowly.

"Kaworu, I…" I stop eating, and look at you. You are gazing down at your hands, looking worried. "Now that you’re back, I…it seems…I feel at home now, with you. It’s like…you never left. It’s…"

There is a small table in front of us; I turn and put my plate down on it so that my food won’t distract me from listening to you.

"What is it, Shinji?"

"Well, it’s…when you were with me, back then, I felt…happy. I was happy when you wanted to listen to me, talk to me, just…be with me. There were many others you could have wanted to be with, who were better than me, but you wanted to share your time with me. I was uncomfortable at first, because I had never known such affection before, but soon...you made me feel…peaceful. And you said that you loved me. I felt like I could tell you anything, do anything when I was with you, and you would love me like that, no matter what I said or did. And now…I feel like that again. And I’m not afraid to talk to you."

Oh, Shinji. How light and warm you make my heart feel.

"Tonight, my Shinji, you are free. It is your night to do exactly as you please. I want to hear anything you have to say, I want to do anything you want to do. I want you to understand that you don’t have to be afraid, but you can be if you want to. There is to reason to be ashamed."

"Did you want to watch the movie?" you ask.

"I’d be happy to, if that’s what you want." I’m smiling again; I think I’ve been smiling all evening! I finish the last bit of fish on my plate, and start to get up to take my dishes into your kitchen.

"Kaworu, you can just set it on the table there."

"Won’t my glass leave a ring?" I ask, sitting back down.

"I don’t care, I…"

I obey your advice quickly. There seems to be something wrong. You’re getting nervous again, and seem uncertain. I wish I knew how to bring you comfort. I already know you have courage.

"…Kaworu, I…love you." Cautiously, you lean in very close to me, and capture my lips in the sweetest, clumsiest kiss that ever was. We are kneeling with our knees touching, and you rest your hands on my thighs to keep your balance. Your lips are soft and taste like soda. When we pull apart, I lift my hands from where they were at my sides and put them on top of yours. The skin on your knuckles fascinates me, a small bit courser and darker than mine, and I begin to stroke your fingers.

"Shinji. Oh Shinji, kiss me another time, please." My voice comes out very faintly; it’s a wonder you can hear. I can hardly breathe, I want so badly to touch you.

You whisper, "Don’t leave me again," as you bring your lips up to mine. I promise you, I won’t. As long as I am able, as long as you will have me, I promise I will stay with you.

You keep your lips against mine for a long time, and after several minutes, you slide your tongue tenderly along the entrance to my mouth, and I allow you to slip it inside. I feel your tongue moving against my own, and I am overwhelmed. I have never been kissed like this before. It’s the most magnificent feeling.

I have to be closer to you.

I remove my hands from where they have been sitting on top of yours, slide my arms underneath yours, and pull your body tightly against me. You scoot up on top of me so that you are kneeling on my thighs. The VCR makes a ‘click’ noise; the tape has finished rewinding.

"Shinji? I have desire for you. I want to feel your body against mine, without clothes. Do you want this also?"

You shiver, and nod, placing another kiss on my neck. I feel suddenly very warm.

"Can we stay like this a little longer, Kaworu?"

I am pleased that you have quelled your inhibitions, and that you understand that you can have anything you want now without shame.

"We can stay like this as long as you like, Shinji. All our lives if you want."

You begin to run your fingers around the neckline of my shirt, stroking the muscles to either side of my neck softly. You watch your fingers as they move. I am unwilling to remove mine from your back, because they feel so good there. I move them only slightly, and try to hold you a little closer to me.

You kiss the cowlick at the top of my head, and I close my eyes and sigh. My legs are beginning to feel cramped underneath yours, and so I allow myself to lean backwards until I am lying on my back on the couch, bringing you along with me. You straighten your legs out and I spread mine slightly so that you can place yours between them.

My hair is very long and shaggy, and now that I’m lying down it’s not in my eyes as much. I feel very comfortable, here, in your arms, in your home.

You draw yourself up a little, and begin to undo the top buttons of my shirt. Your eyes are uncertain but your hands are strong and sure. A sigh escapes me; you are so profoundly beautiful. You are wearing a white cotton dress shirt with the top two buttons left opened, untucked, very similar to mine. I reach up to also unfasten your buttons, only I start at your lower ones and move toward your collar. Your shirt fits you nicely, like it was tailored for you. I wonder if I should take off my wristwatch?

First, I realize, we must both take off our shoes. I didn’t think of it because I seldom wear them indoors. Our shirts are both opened now, and you smile at me a little shyly before sitting up on your haunches and taking your arms out of your short sleeves. I swivel on the couch and begin to untie my shoelaces, and seeing this, you do the same.

Of all the times for them to actually stay tied!

I remove my belt after my shoes and socks, then my watch, then finish taking off my shirt. I set it on top of yours over the armrest to our left. Our slacks and underclothes join our shirts soon after.

You look over at me when you are setting your clothes down, and there is a strange expression in your eyes. You look surprised. Does it amaze you, to see that love can be so easy? So reckless and gentle and dizzy and free? Does it amaze you, Shinji, that this thing that you have yearned so long for, fought so hard for, accosts you now, right here, so effortlessly?

I, certainly, am also amazed. And grateful.

You sit down beside me, and lean towards me slightly, and we join our hands as we let ourselves recline backwards on the couch. You are lying on top of me, and our bellies are touching. You kiss me sweetly and delicately for at least a full minute, and when you open your eyes, you’re so relaxed that you almost look sleepy. You lower your lips back onto mine and slip your tongue between them, and I roll my hips up, rubbing my erection and yours together.

You moan deliciously, unabashed, and move your hips also to compliment my motions. You don’t have to think and you don’t want to; you just move with me, feel with me, enjoy with me. This feeling—this pleasure of closeness and warmth—surmounts and conquers all the years of loss and loneliness, all the listless ages of surrender and safety. Your skin is so unbelievably hot, Shinji. So unbelievably hot.

There is a great deal of pre-ejaculate between us, making the slow touching of our sexes slick and wet. I have never been so aroused, and more and more seems to keep leaking out from me. I catch your left earlobe with my lips; this makes you gasp. I hold it in my mouth and allow myself to learn the taste of you there. Your motions are becoming restless.

You seem to be losing your breath.

I let you slip out of my mouth, and you raise your head to look at me. You are trembling, near to crying with desire. You raise yourself up and sit on your heels, and I come up with you, folding you in my arms and also putting my legs around you. My chest heaves along with yours; I concentrate on slowing my breaths. You crane your neck to kiss my forehead gently, and I am calmed.

"Kaworu, I…I want…"

You close your mouth as if you were afraid of the sound your words would make. Why did you stop?

"Tell me, please, Shinji, what it is you want."

You lean your head down so that your lips are touching my right ear, and in your gentlest, quietest whisper, you say, "I want to be inside you."

I hear my own throat groaning. The thought of you inside of my body is almost too overpowering; it doesn’t seem real that I could take such pleasure. But nothing, I realize, has ever been more real than this; nothing could be.

"Do you have something…some oil or lotion? that we could use to make it…easier?"

You let out a long breath as you consider this, then say, "In the bathroom." And you get up right away, but you stop after you’ve stood up. You turn and look back at me, and although your breath catches, you manage to explain, "The bedroom is down the hall…it’s the door to the right."

I get up off of the couch, and walk slowly down to the very end of the hall and go through the open doorway. Your bedroom is very small, but it is your own and not shared. There is a window, closed, with curtains drawn. I open the window a crack and draw back the curtains, just for a sip of the cool, deep blue evening air, then sit down on the bed and relax. You have a very good mattress—firm, but with enough give to feel soft and comfortable. I lay down on my back. My feet are dangling off the edge of the bed, so I scoot up a little.

You walk in cautiously, with a travel-size bottle of baby oil. You pause almost imperceptibly when you see me, then continue moving, coming to sit beside me on the bed.

You look at me now with wonder in your eyes, like you can’t believe I’m really here, and reach out to touch the side of my face with your hand. I guess this is all kind of sudden, unexpected, even to me. Did I act rudely? Should I have waited longer before asking permission to enter your home?

Can you really trust me after what I’ve done?

How can you?

But you do trust me. Your trust is as firm as your courage, as unchangeable as your beauty, as guileless as your smile. Brave, gentle, merciful, honorable, always true and unselfish. My Shinji, sweeter still now, here now, in the crisp still darkness of autumn, with your eyes glistening secrets to me, and a small breeze from the open window sweeping through your hair.

I trust you also, Shinji. And I love you with all my heart, and with all my soul, and with all my strength.

Slowly you move so that you are kneeling over me, and you run the palms of your hands up and down my sides. I close my eyes and let my head fall back. I do not think I would be able to withstand the simultaneous pleasures of feeling this and watching this! But I can’t help opening my eyes.

You are as you always have been. Patient. You are waiting for me to offer permission to begin. I nod to indicate that you have it, that it is your natural right.

You coat the fingers of your left hand in the oil, then bring them down to rub against my entrance, and slowly sink them inside, one by one, opening and caressing the most intimate part of my body. The oil is lukewarm, but your hands feel very hot, very soft. Your motions are tender and careful, electric.

And here I didn’t think there was any such thing as heaven.

"Please. Won’t you please come inside of me now, Shinji?"

You nod once, struggling to keep your breathing slow, and take your cock in hand and pour a good deal of oil over it, then rub it over yourself with your palm. I spread my legs a little more for you, and you lay down between them, and placing yourself smoothly at the point of entry, you ease yourself inside.

You release a gasp that’s partly a hiccup, and I close my legs tightly around your hips, not believing the truth of these glorious sensations. I try to calm my mind and accept it, but it’s just too much feeling to absorb; I can only let it wash through me in broken waves of unyielding pleasure. I am helpless against this.

I give myself over to you. All I can do is continue to smile, blessed to be so impossibly close to you, as you find purchase inside of my body, holding onto me for dear life, moving like an animal, crazy, hungry, but so graceful and slow, so gentle and steady! I suppose this is kind of like dancing, although I have never danced before. How else could such a rhythm be carried out, so wild and sharp, but simple and easy, if not through a dance? I will always remember this, Shinji, as my first dance with you.

You move your hands from my waist to the sides of my face and kiss me, hard, as you roll your hips, moving yourself in and out of me. I realize that my own hands have been uselessly clutching at the sheets, and I bring them to the back of your slender neck and stroke you there. I run my right hand through your hair, which is already mussed up from our movements, and I find your tongue with mine, sliding it against yours. Your eyes are clenched tightly shut, and you are sweating a little.

"Kaworu," you whisper, "move your legs up a little higher." I obey you eagerly, and it occurs to me that I can put my ankles up over your shoulders. You seem a little surprised when I do this, but you hold on to the sides of my calves with your hands and increase the pace of your thrusts.

Our lovemaking has become feverish, frantic. I hear my voice trying to work in broken moans. My insides feel like they are tightening, and I hear you call my name, so low and soft, like the ending of a prayer. You start thrusting even faster, and I come all undone. As your forceful movements squeeze the first jets of come out of me, I hear your breath hitch and feel your cock stutter in climax, and you erupt hotly inside me, deep as you can go, your hips forced hard up against me.

Oh Shinji. How can I ever thank you?

Such calm following after such frenzy seems unreal. The silent breeze from the partly open window cools my exposed skin, which is a little damp with sweat. The moon is out, and the glow from it has been our only light in here, but it’s not difficult to see. You fell on top of me when we finished, and you’re still breathing fast. And all through me, there courses this sweet knowledge: that I belong here, that I belong with you.

I’m still not sure how long ago it was, before now, in that time before that dreadful interruption of all life. But you were with me, for a short time, in my room with me…and before you left, I embraced you, and was sad because I knew that I could never hold you again. And now.

Now I am with you again, touching you again, close to you, loved by you. Whatever did I do, to be so blessed?

You yawn suddenly and politely, unaware that you even covered your mouth, and you reach over and pull the blanket over us.

"Goodnight, Kaworu," you murmur into my neck, and you are still, but not yet asleep. I keep my arms around your back, near your shoulderblades. I kiss the top of your head and close my eyes.

Tomorrow, maybe we can go and see your friend’s model airplane. I would like to meet your friends, especially this girl Asuka, and your roommate, who were among the chosen children.

But first I think I will ask you if you would like to go fishing with me.

I have always loved the water…

Robofetus0 Author Pairing Rating Subject