Alive (Kaworu/Shinji, Neon Genesis Evangelion, R)
Author: transient_words
Word Count: 1375
Prompt: Neon Genesis Evangelion, Kaworu/Shinji: marking or leaving marks (bite mark, scratches, etc.). "foolishly I think I'm stronger/than a kiss.
Warning(s): self-harm, implied depression, frottage. Underaged boys? Some brackets abuse, but the writing is noticeably simpler than what I usually commit in the name of “literature” (or not). Present-tense. Self-edited.
A/N: I’m not sure if this truly fits the prompt. But I tried - I really did.
...
Shinji can’t sleep: the heat is stifling, so oppressively heavy that not even kicking off the sheets makes him feel any cooler; he keeps twisting and turning, a feeling of restlessness having gained a tight grip on him.
At last, Shinji gives up and sighs loudly, resigned to staring up at the ceiling; moonlight is streaming through the window - blurily visible: a weird sort of grayish black that reminds him of ... nothing to be precise.
He’s so stupid. The truth is that he can’t see a damn thing and that all this over-analysing of ceilings in the dark is merely an attempt to focus his on thoughts on something trivial. He’d rather not think about the all the rest - he’s done so much ruminating lately that he feels his head will burst if he doesn’t stop any time soon.
In fact, sometimes Shinji wishes that he could just close his eyes, die and be done with it.
“That would be a waste,” Kaworu’s gentle voice answers and Shinji sits up in shock, realising that he’s not only voiced his thoughts out loud, but forgotten that he’s not in own room.
Right, Shinji remembers as he feels his cheeks heating up and scratches his neck awkwardly, he asked Kaworu if he could stay over the night.
“No, you didn’t - I was awake all the time, Shinji.”
Shinji feels himself blushing again at the mention of his name - it’s not like he hasn’t been called this for the first time, but it’s not often that people use his name this lovingly. A part of Shinji - a part he hasn’t locked away entirely yet - grows hopeful, daring to think that, maybe just maybe, he’s finally found someone he can confide in.
“Perhaps, we should talk- if we both can’t sleep, anyway?”
Shinji simply mutters “yes” and Kaworu stands up, reaching for the switch of the lamp. With a click, it’s on and a fragile burst of light enshrouds the room in its embrace.
“You said it would be a waste - why? Life is painful, too painful,” Shinji says, remembering all the things he doesn’t want to remember. “Besides, it wouldn’t make a difference if I died or not - to no one.”
It really wouldn’t because Shinji knows that no one cares for him - no one ever has and ever will.
And it’s not like he wants others to care! He doesn’t need anyone’s pity or love because love is -
(all lies. lies and deceit. you’ll be hurt, so it’s better not get involved at all!)
Shinji balls his hands to a fist and drives them downwards, thumping them down the ground so harshly that a searing pain - just like a strong current - runs through his body. He’s sure that his knuckles are bruised by now. But he can’t stop himself and slams them down again; however, the pain isn’t enough.
So, in order to feel more, he starts attacking his own skin with nails, scratching deeply and letting out a sigh of relief when the pain becomes scorching-hot.
It feels good. So good. Yes, this will most certainly leave marks behind, yet he’ll brand himself because-
(he’s despicable and ugly. ugly and despicable things should be punished).
“Don’t do that!” Kaworu says, grabbing Shinji by the shoulders - his voice louder than usual and eyes blazing with something that could be close to rage, but isn’t. Shinji knows rage. And this really isn’t rage because it lacks venom.
“Hurting yourself won’t make things better. Neither will wishing for death.” Kaworu’s grip loosens and he lets Shinji go; the expression on his face has softened, but the pained expression in his eyes is still there.
“I -”
Shinji can’t continue and breaks down, feeling that he has to let it out - all the pent-up anger and sadness that has been plaguing him for months.
He isn’t crying because he’s simply upset; he’s crying because he’s compensating for a lifetime of not crying enough.
Kaworu’s hands are so warm; the hands holding on his shoulders are firm and Shinji feels more at ease than he can ever remember having felt. Closing his eyes, he nestles his face into Kaworu’s neck, just enjoying the other’s presence.
“I just don’t know anymore,” Shinji answers it’s true - he doesn’t know left from right anymore.
And it’s then that Kaworu kisses him - more roughly than gently. His lips are warm and soft, Shinji thinks as he closes his eyes. He shouldn’t submit, should run away but -
(this is something he needs - something he’ll be able to hold onto forever.)
Shinji allows Kaworu’s tongue to invade his mouth; his hands wrap themselves around Kaworu’s neck - holding on desperately. If he lets go, he’ll be alone again and that’s the last thing he needs right now.
It’s because, even if he’s been denying it, Shinji craves touch, affection and love so much that he doesn’t dare to push Kaworu away.
(we’re all just prisoners of our own pathetic lust - starving for love and looking to fill the hunger in all the wrong places.)
Maybe, it’s because this feels so good - even if it’s wet and awkward - that Shinji finds himself trying to return the kiss; he doesn’t know what he’s doing, but Kaworu doesn’t seem to mind or care.
“You’re not alone - you might not see it but there are people who do care for you,” Kaworu says, caressing Shinji’s cheek tenderly; Shinji, head dizzy from all the thoughts running rampant in his head, shivers. “Humans are never alone, no matter how much they try to isolate themselves from others.”
Kaworu pushes Shinji down the mattress and starts to leave a trail of kisses on his neck; his mouth is hot against Shinji’s skin - it’s an odd sensation. Laughable and awkward, but also tantalisingly arousing.
Shinji is hard, but - as he looks up at Kaworu who’s smiling gently - he notices that he’s not the only one: Kaworu’s erection is pressing against his thighs.
Blushing, Shinji looks away - only to have his hand grasped by Kaworu’s. “Don’t be ashamed - it’s only natural. It’s part of being alive.”
Then, Kaworu shifts in position, bringing their lower bodies into direct contact; he starts to move - slowly at first.
As his heartbeat quickens, Shinji finds himself panting and wanting more, his body shifting uneasily under Kaworu’s. His hands - now clenching and unclenching, then tightly gripping the bedsheets - finally find themselves clawing at Kaworu’s back. His body, though unused to close contact, responds to Kaworu’s movements without hesitation, arching up whenever Kaworu rubs against his groin.
Kaworu’s moving faster, as if driven by the knowledge that time stands against them - his kisses are more urgent, too. It seems that with every kiss he places on Shinji’s skin, Kaworu is saying “now you’re mine, every bit of yours is mine and this mark here is to show you that this won’t ever change.”
“Kaworu-kun -” Shinji whispers; however, the words die on his throat as the friction becomes increasingly more unbearable and the only thing left to do is to meet Kaworu’s movements hastily with his hips.
Kaworu, as if in response to Shinji’s unspoken question, softly bites down on Shinji’s neck, teeth sinking into flesh - not too deeply, but deeply enough to leave something behind -even if Kaworu won’t be here tomorrow, Shinji will always have this. Marks might fade, but never the memory never does and Kaworu wants Shinji to always -
(remember me. remember me in your darkest hours.)
“Don’t be so afraid of love, Shinji. Even if it hurts. Even it if means losing because, even if you lose, your heart never forgets.”
The words are nearly drowned in the storm that follows; Shinji only hazily registers them as he climaxes, mind foggy and more focused on Kaworu’s warmth than anything else - but the more rational part of him knows that he’ll never forget.
No, as Kaworu rests his head against Shinji’s still-heaving chest, Shinji knows that Kaworu has forever left a mark on him.
....
Word Count: 1375
Prompt: Neon Genesis Evangelion, Kaworu/Shinji: marking or leaving marks (bite mark, scratches, etc.). "foolishly I think I'm stronger/than a kiss.
Warning(s): self-harm, implied depression, frottage. Underaged boys? Some brackets abuse, but the writing is noticeably simpler than what I usually commit in the name of “literature” (or not). Present-tense. Self-edited.
A/N: I’m not sure if this truly fits the prompt. But I tried - I really did.
...
Shinji can’t sleep: the heat is stifling, so oppressively heavy that not even kicking off the sheets makes him feel any cooler; he keeps twisting and turning, a feeling of restlessness having gained a tight grip on him.
At last, Shinji gives up and sighs loudly, resigned to staring up at the ceiling; moonlight is streaming through the window - blurily visible: a weird sort of grayish black that reminds him of ... nothing to be precise.
He’s so stupid. The truth is that he can’t see a damn thing and that all this over-analysing of ceilings in the dark is merely an attempt to focus his on thoughts on something trivial. He’d rather not think about the all the rest - he’s done so much ruminating lately that he feels his head will burst if he doesn’t stop any time soon.
In fact, sometimes Shinji wishes that he could just close his eyes, die and be done with it.
“That would be a waste,” Kaworu’s gentle voice answers and Shinji sits up in shock, realising that he’s not only voiced his thoughts out loud, but forgotten that he’s not in own room.
Right, Shinji remembers as he feels his cheeks heating up and scratches his neck awkwardly, he asked Kaworu if he could stay over the night.
“No, you didn’t - I was awake all the time, Shinji.”
Shinji feels himself blushing again at the mention of his name - it’s not like he hasn’t been called this for the first time, but it’s not often that people use his name this lovingly. A part of Shinji - a part he hasn’t locked away entirely yet - grows hopeful, daring to think that, maybe just maybe, he’s finally found someone he can confide in.
“Perhaps, we should talk- if we both can’t sleep, anyway?”
Shinji simply mutters “yes” and Kaworu stands up, reaching for the switch of the lamp. With a click, it’s on and a fragile burst of light enshrouds the room in its embrace.
“You said it would be a waste - why? Life is painful, too painful,” Shinji says, remembering all the things he doesn’t want to remember. “Besides, it wouldn’t make a difference if I died or not - to no one.”
It really wouldn’t because Shinji knows that no one cares for him - no one ever has and ever will.
And it’s not like he wants others to care! He doesn’t need anyone’s pity or love because love is -
(all lies. lies and deceit. you’ll be hurt, so it’s better not get involved at all!)
Shinji balls his hands to a fist and drives them downwards, thumping them down the ground so harshly that a searing pain - just like a strong current - runs through his body. He’s sure that his knuckles are bruised by now. But he can’t stop himself and slams them down again; however, the pain isn’t enough.
So, in order to feel more, he starts attacking his own skin with nails, scratching deeply and letting out a sigh of relief when the pain becomes scorching-hot.
It feels good. So good. Yes, this will most certainly leave marks behind, yet he’ll brand himself because-
(he’s despicable and ugly. ugly and despicable things should be punished).
“Don’t do that!” Kaworu says, grabbing Shinji by the shoulders - his voice louder than usual and eyes blazing with something that could be close to rage, but isn’t. Shinji knows rage. And this really isn’t rage because it lacks venom.
“Hurting yourself won’t make things better. Neither will wishing for death.” Kaworu’s grip loosens and he lets Shinji go; the expression on his face has softened, but the pained expression in his eyes is still there.
“I -”
Shinji can’t continue and breaks down, feeling that he has to let it out - all the pent-up anger and sadness that has been plaguing him for months.
He isn’t crying because he’s simply upset; he’s crying because he’s compensating for a lifetime of not crying enough.
Kaworu’s hands are so warm; the hands holding on his shoulders are firm and Shinji feels more at ease than he can ever remember having felt. Closing his eyes, he nestles his face into Kaworu’s neck, just enjoying the other’s presence.
“I just don’t know anymore,” Shinji answers it’s true - he doesn’t know left from right anymore.
And it’s then that Kaworu kisses him - more roughly than gently. His lips are warm and soft, Shinji thinks as he closes his eyes. He shouldn’t submit, should run away but -
(this is something he needs - something he’ll be able to hold onto forever.)
Shinji allows Kaworu’s tongue to invade his mouth; his hands wrap themselves around Kaworu’s neck - holding on desperately. If he lets go, he’ll be alone again and that’s the last thing he needs right now.
It’s because, even if he’s been denying it, Shinji craves touch, affection and love so much that he doesn’t dare to push Kaworu away.
(we’re all just prisoners of our own pathetic lust - starving for love and looking to fill the hunger in all the wrong places.)
Maybe, it’s because this feels so good - even if it’s wet and awkward - that Shinji finds himself trying to return the kiss; he doesn’t know what he’s doing, but Kaworu doesn’t seem to mind or care.
“You’re not alone - you might not see it but there are people who do care for you,” Kaworu says, caressing Shinji’s cheek tenderly; Shinji, head dizzy from all the thoughts running rampant in his head, shivers. “Humans are never alone, no matter how much they try to isolate themselves from others.”
Kaworu pushes Shinji down the mattress and starts to leave a trail of kisses on his neck; his mouth is hot against Shinji’s skin - it’s an odd sensation. Laughable and awkward, but also tantalisingly arousing.
Shinji is hard, but - as he looks up at Kaworu who’s smiling gently - he notices that he’s not the only one: Kaworu’s erection is pressing against his thighs.
Blushing, Shinji looks away - only to have his hand grasped by Kaworu’s. “Don’t be ashamed - it’s only natural. It’s part of being alive.”
Then, Kaworu shifts in position, bringing their lower bodies into direct contact; he starts to move - slowly at first.
As his heartbeat quickens, Shinji finds himself panting and wanting more, his body shifting uneasily under Kaworu’s. His hands - now clenching and unclenching, then tightly gripping the bedsheets - finally find themselves clawing at Kaworu’s back. His body, though unused to close contact, responds to Kaworu’s movements without hesitation, arching up whenever Kaworu rubs against his groin.
Kaworu’s moving faster, as if driven by the knowledge that time stands against them - his kisses are more urgent, too. It seems that with every kiss he places on Shinji’s skin, Kaworu is saying “now you’re mine, every bit of yours is mine and this mark here is to show you that this won’t ever change.”
“Kaworu-kun -” Shinji whispers; however, the words die on his throat as the friction becomes increasingly more unbearable and the only thing left to do is to meet Kaworu’s movements hastily with his hips.
Kaworu, as if in response to Shinji’s unspoken question, softly bites down on Shinji’s neck, teeth sinking into flesh - not too deeply, but deeply enough to leave something behind -even if Kaworu won’t be here tomorrow, Shinji will always have this. Marks might fade, but never the memory never does and Kaworu wants Shinji to always -
(remember me. remember me in your darkest hours.)
“Don’t be so afraid of love, Shinji. Even if it hurts. Even it if means losing because, even if you lose, your heart never forgets.”
The words are nearly drowned in the storm that follows; Shinji only hazily registers them as he climaxes, mind foggy and more focused on Kaworu’s warmth than anything else - but the more rational part of him knows that he’ll never forget.
No, as Kaworu rests his head against Shinji’s still-heaving chest, Shinji knows that Kaworu has forever left a mark on him.
....