I know you well enough to know you never loved me.

[labyrinthos]

[Believe it or not, even Nagisa Kaworu has limits as to what he's willing to put up with.

It's been a long day. An inordinately long day. WILLE's latest border skirmish with NERV went as well as could be expected--after all, they have the First Angel on their side. Kaworu hardly needed to lift a finger to annihilate each enemy combatant with his A.T. Field, but they just kept coming and it ended up becoming a meat grinder for multiple hours. His nerves feel as stretched and frayed as a torn ribbon. He would do anything for Shinji-kun, up to and including taking human lives, but that doesn't make it any easier on him.

Worst of all, in spite of their success, the day's efforts weren't good enough for Shikinami. Right now he's staring at Shikinami, his mouth a stark line, displaying none of his usual benevolence whenever she chooses to censure him. He ignored explicit orders on battlefield positioning, or something. He isn't paying attention anymore; her words have blended together into a grating, droning hum. Shouldn't it be enough that they decimated NERV's fighters? It should be enough...

It's been a long day, and a longer cycle, and an even longer stretch of cycles in which all he's done is fail over and over and over again with what truly matters.]

Hey, Shikinami-san...

[He blinks once, twice, then looks down the lithe length of her body. It's been a while. It's been a while, he thinks, swallowing hard, unsure of why he's suddenly feeling this particular urge. The last time he touched Shikinami like he's thinking was hundreds of cycles ago. And yet, relying on instinct alone, he leans in and interrupts her by kissing her on the mouth. It's been a long day and probably this is the most efficient way to relax. The consequences don't occur to him.]

Comments

[interstices]

[It's a sham. That's what it is.]

[Restless, itchy, Asuka's coping mechanisms have been faltering one by one. Outright hostility's gotten her ignored, treated like a child by the crew-- Shinji would have responded, would have flinched, but Kaworu just takes it and takes it and takes it without even a shudder. The thought of Shinji, as always, sends her gut roiling, one fist balling up, nails digging into her palm.]

[Kaworu's perfect, and of course he is; the First Angel has to be. Once, a long time ago, not so long ago, so very long ago, that would have driven her completely off the edge. Sync ratios had been everything to her, the easiest, most honest way to measure her worth in the world. But she can't even blame Kaworu with rendering them pointless. Not really. There's nothing to be proud of now, nothing for her at WILLE but more of the same, over and over again. Victory's sour in her mouth, and the eye behind her patch has been throbbing since morning, and she wonders sometimes if Kaworu's even temper is some kind of sick bid for her attention. If he thinks they're the same because of what's happened to her, what she's become. She could throttle him for the insinuation, except he hasn't said it.]

[He hasn't said it.]

[But his mouth's on hers, right as she's lashing out, cutting her off at the pass. Kaworu's warm, and she doesn't think twice before sinking her teeth into his soft bottom lip, grabbing his shoulder and shoving while still holding onto his shirt.]

What the hell is your problem? Are you even listening?

[labyrinthos]

[The consequences do occur to Kaworu around the time Shikinami bites him in retaliation. Ouch, ouch, he thinks, wondering if she has drawn blood, wondering if her own blood has thickened by now. He hasn't said anything about her so-called "contamination," not unless specifically asked to chime in. Regardless, he's of the opinion that Shikinami is increasingly beautiful as time goes on... even when her face is twisted and her words are acidic.

He lifts a few fingers to check for blood, which is somehow demure when paired with lowered eyelids.]

I was thinking that you could use a distraction, [he says, trying to be pragmatic about this.] You've been working hard for a while now, haven't you? It's not a bad thing to acknowledge your limits.

[interstices]

I don't have any limits, idiot.

[It's snapped out like machine gunfire. You made sure of that. The Angels. She can't take credit for her own accomplishments anymore; they're like sludge in her hands. She's had too little and too much time to recover, tearing angrily through rations she's scared she no longer needs to survive, shoving that torn-up plugsuit back on like a prizefighter's robe. She's got another now and it looks like a mishmash in comparison, too many colors cut up and soldered together. At least the asymmetry of her old plugsuit's familiar, the damage old. It's showing its age better than she ever will.]

[He doesn't look smug, but she'd really like to pretend he is. That would make retaliation all the easier. Her eye narrows, her grip on his shoulder growing all the harder as she attempts to yank him forward, towards her again. She wonders if his expression would change if she pushed him against the wall and decides it wouldn't. There's no point in terrorizing someone so ingratiatingly, utterly placid, just like there's no point to her disgusting, weird craving, even if it's the first skin-on-skin contact she's gotten in months. There's the tang of LCL all over his lips the same as hers. For those few seconds it had been like tasting her own flesh.]

So don't you dare pretend you're concerned when you know better. Understand?

[labyrinthos]

[Kaworu doesn't blame Shikinami for clinging to a human's daily routine. He's been known to sit down for meals alongside them, too. Sleeping is often a needless luxury, but it can be refreshing to a degree. Cultivating a sense of similitude is important to earning their trust, that's all. For Shikinami, it must be strange, even painful, to begin at one side of the evolutionary scale and relentlessly slide towards the other. Kaworu does feel a kinship with her, not feigned, nothing pretended. He feels slightly less alone when he's in the presence of what's left of Adam's children. Still, he isn't deluded about this: Shikinami is her own person.

He doesn't bother to resist where she's dragging him and how forcefully. Though she has gotten stronger, he could disable her utterly at a glance, if it came to that. He hopes it won't come to that. They're just arguing (sort of) and touching each other (which is wonderful), so it shouldn't come to that.]

What makes you think I'm pretending? [There's a blood-speckled bruise on his lip, but it will heal before too long. He licks at it anyway, noting the off texture and the way it throbs. His heart is responding to his desire with an uptick in tempo.] I wouldn't be false with you, Shikinami-san. I have no reason to be. Your mind, if not your body, is still vulnerable to exhaustion.

[Finally, he smiles for her. This is much more interesting than military strategy.]

You didn't like it?

[interstices]

[Asuka's mouth twists into a grimace as she watches him lick off the blood. He's even worse than she'd thought, not unmovable after all. God, he actually enjoyed it when she bit him. Masochist. Or maybe it's another symptom of how pathetic he is, that he'd take being bitten and yanked and shoved as eagerly as he'd take a present. She really doesn't want to ruminate on how Kaworu is unless there's a way she can make the barbs sink under his skin and stay there.]

[That'd be great. Mari laughs off most of her outbursts and Misato hasn't swilled a beer in years, which makes them unsavory targets. But hurting Kaworu would be really satisfying, if she could manage it. Asuka swallows, her tongue sticky with saliva. He has to ask as if she's that stupid schoolgirl learning kanji. As if he knows all about how empty she's been.]

[She lets go of his shoulder and grabs his wrist instead, squeezing and shifting her hand up his arm for a few strange seconds, the motion disengaged, as if she's inspecting a racehorse. Her face is intent, though. Scrutinizing. She can't feel the difference by touch between him and a normal human, and she's bizarrely grateful for that. At least she's been spared that much so far. But then, she hasn't touched a normal human in so long she might not remember the difference.]

What's it to you?

[labyrinthos]

[It's going to take a lot more than name calling for Shikinami's barbs to have an effect. No one could possibly hate Nagisa Kaworu more than he hates himself, so she hasn't said anything that he doesn't already know. If he weren't a pathetic idiot, for example, they wouldn't be having this idle conversation about kisses. He would have shown Shinji-kun happiness by now and would be resting instead, in final repose. There's nothing ideal about being where he's standing, but he might as well do what he can with this.

He can't help but enjoy the way she's touching him with all the scrutiny in the world. Framed in a black T-shirt, his pale skin seems even more colorless than usual. His arm is warm and soft, maybe a little warmer than a typical human's; he doesn't have the musculature to match his divine strength. As the inspection continues, his smile only seems to widen. The ongoing contact is delicious for his nerves. Pain or pleasure, it doesn't matter right now. What matters is the contact itself.]

If you didn't like it, I want to know why. I want to know what I can do to improve it.

[A bold prediction. It's one thing to push his luck with a kiss, and another to assume they're going to kiss again. He's passive and not passive at all...]

I liked it, though.

[If this is a seduction, it's happening with the patience of a moving glacier.]

It felt good.

[interstices]

You've got a lot of nerve.

[This isn't an idle conversation for Asuka. It's a chance to vent all her anger. It's a chance to assert herself. She's nobody's victim and nobody's tool, and she certainly won't be this Angel's source of amusement.]

[It's just that what he's offering tears at her own frayed nerves. Contact, even with Kaworu, wouldn't be such a bad thing. God knows she couldn't contaminate him the way everyone else is scared of. She'd taken to wearing her plugsuits even out of combat, hatefully, before anyone could have the audacity to suggest it to her. She knows how badly the creature inside her wants to spread. But after today's combat she'd just had to get out of the damn thing, so she's in jeans and a long-sleeved white blouse, the red bow on the collar looking hilariously inappropriate for the expression engraved on her face.]

Of course you liked it. Nobody wants to touch you, either. [It sounds far more petulant coming out than she wants it to, but it can't be helped. His skin feels all right, she rationalizes, and there's an insistent, twitchy warmth in the pit of her stomach that she can't ignore now. Her hand's still grippng his forearm as she leans in, tilting her head up slightly and shoving her mouth against his, awkward and aggressive, with no finesse at all. Her tongue swipes across the place on his lip that she'd bitten, the wound already gone like a sick kind of clockwork. Nothing can claim him; nothing can hurt him. He's just there, and she's just insinuating herself against his body in an unsteady mix of self-revulsion and desperation.]

[labyrinthos]

[Honestly, Kaworu isn't the only one with a lot of nerve here. He's preparing to say something about how Shikinami is the furthest thing from nobody when her mouth attaches to his again. She kisses him with apocalyptic urgency, as if the world is destined to end tomorrow. (Given the track record of such things, that wouldn't be so unbelievable.) Lifting his hands, interpreting her kiss as consent, he cradles her hips in his palms and gives them a firm squeeze. This does feel good. Better than good, in fact. He laughs warmly, vaguely, with the next breath he bothers to take. Her aggression isn't enough to goad him into rushing through a better-than-good thing.]

What is it that you're thinking about? [he asks, then, his voice made a murmur with their faces so close.] Right now, what do you want me to do to you? What can I do? [He can't read her mind, not without violating her heart, so asking her outright is the next best thing. There's no hesitation in these questions; unlike Shinji-kun, Kaworu won't blush or stammer over a pretty girl...

Resembling a lonely puppy, he had followed Shikinami all the way from the hangar to her private bedroom, which is proving to be a good decision. The door is tightly shut and locked, and he finishes disabling the security camera that Dr. Akagi installed to spy on her. Now her bed awaits them at little more than ten paces away, layered in grey military blankets--it promises to be comfortable. He could lay her down and spread her out and help her to feel more than the bitter chill of an iced-over heart.

He wants to see her melt in his hands and under his mouth.]

[interstices]

[She despises her bedroom, too. It's spartan, utterly devoid of comforts by her own volition. Her rag doll's on the floor, tossed in a fit of passion a few days ago. It's not like anyone comes in here, so there's no reason to be humiliated over what she has or doesn't have in her room, but she's still seething. It shouldn't be him. Asuka definitely shouldn't have reduced herself to going after him. Next to Shinji, there's really no better symbol of everything that's gone utterly wrong in her life than Kaworu.]

[But none of her anger and disgust is stopping Asuka from the pursuit. If it even is pursuit at this juncture. He still looks... like he wants to help her. It's sickening.]

What's your problem? Why are you asking? [She hisses the words, keen on rubbing his nose in his own goodwill. He's got his own motives here. Well, fine. She can deal, as long as she gets what she wants out of the arrangement. Touch, touch. His hands on her hips are a steadying force, and already she's picturing his fingers roving over her bare skin. Actually moving to the bed, though, would mean letting go for more seconds than she wants to spare. Going to the bed would make it official, too, would put a spotlight on her own ignorance. Without a thought, she defiantly reaches down to unzip her own jeans.] I bet you've been wanting to do this ever since you got here.

[labyrinthos]

I can't know what you find enjoyable unless I ask you. [Then again... Could it be that Shikinami herself doesn't know what would feel good? Kaworu hasn't considered whether or not Shikinami is a virgin before now. He wouldn't assign any value to virginity or to the loss thereof, but it is tantalizing to imagine that no one else has touched her this way. Is that why she's refusing to answer his questions? Is that why she seems so forthright and directionless at the same time? How interesting. How very interesting.

A frisson of delight travels down his spine when he hears the distinct growl of a zipper coming undone. It's been such a long time, he nearly forgot how intoxicating the anticipation could be. Maybe the anticipation is the best part about this... Judging by the reactions of his own body, it's definitely the best part.

He tries to look down, then, but his view is obstructed by the modest swell of her breasts. Just as well. The blouse she's wearing is an endearing example of Lilin fashion and will look even better when it's discarded on the floor.]

Hmm, now that you mention it... [A kiss.] I did think you were beautiful to behold. [Another kiss, more insistent.] Your temperament, and... [Yet another kiss, while his fingers tug at the fabric of her blouse, bidding her to remove it.] Your face. Your form. The vessel which houses your soul. [There's something possessive, almost primal, about this next kiss. He isn't necessarily the last of his species anymore.] Allow me to see all that you're made of, Shikinami-san.

[interstices]

[From most anyone else, that last comment would sound like a challenge. From Kaworu, it just sounds eager, like he's ready to embrace her. Asuka still stiffens up, blood curdling.]

Whatever.

[She's not backing out of this. She can't, really. Every bold move makes it that much harder to turn away. Asuka figures deep down that she might not get the chance again from anybody. It's a really pathetic, disgusting thought, but it's also probably true.]

[Just once, she'd like to feel important in her own right again, even if she thinks Kaworu's slobbering over her is weird and sort of distasteful. It's better than being ignored, and far better than being treated like a lab rat. Every compliment makes her want to try to bully him even more.]

[Asuka's groped herself before, furtively, without real success-- like most things, it's no good without an audience. Masturbated sometimes and felt gross for it in the afterglow, like she can't separate herself from animal instinct. But sex has got to be better, right? That's what they say. And Kaworu, for all his brazenness, can't have much more experience than her. Nobody wanted to touch him, either, just like she'd told him. So they're on almost even ground. She doesn't need to stress.]

[His kisses seem too good for him to be a novice, though, but she's got nothing to compare him to. Gritting her teeth, she tugs down her underwear, nondescript except for the cheerful pink stripes, and steps out of it in deliberate defiance, knowing he'd wanted her blouse off instead. The cool air feels good against her bare, heated skin.]

I don't care about the details. I'll let you know if you screw this up. [With teeth, if his skin's in reach. He'd gotten the hint there before. Her thighs squeeze together, and she fights the urge to be embarrassed over how she looks, half-grown and slightly gangly, not like she should be by now at all. She reaches for his shirt and starts jerking it up.]

[labyrinthos]

[Kaworu doesn't even think to fight the removal of his shirt. The flirtatious smile on his face is hidden with the fabric rushing upward, and he lifts his arms high overhead, equally thin but twice as limber. The smooth white expanse of his stomach and chest comes into view. He possesses some muscle definition, albeit not enough to explain his strength--it's the same for Shikinami, isn't it? They're the same in that much. It's a comfort to have so much in common with her. (Curiously, he has a belly button like any other human.) (Almost too mundane for a disastrous creature like him.)

He notices there's a cold draft in her room, but that won't matter once they've relocated to the bed.]

I'm expecting nothing less from you, [he says, lowering his arms again.] Your critiques never fail to inspire me as a pilot, you know. Any improvements on my end can be traced back to them. [Almost immediately, he's feeling around her hips to the curve of her ass, undeveloped though it is. Teenage stamina is more important than shapely assets, of course. Kaworu would prefer to have this embrace last and last... and last. It's to his benefit, he thinks, cupping each cheek in each hand, that she has more to rely on than Lilin strength. He hopes that she'll start to see the advantages to her new nature...

Sex is definitely more satisfying than lonely masturbation. It's been a while since he has last touched himself, and now that he's paying attention to his groin, he discovers just how heavy and insistent it is. He doesn't want to rush her into this, not exactly, but he rolls his hips forward to prod her in the direction of her blankets. It's one part primeval, two parts romantic, the way he's touching her and looking her over.

The black eyepatch is an unwelcome divide, coated in hex glyphs, but he doesn't reach for it yet. That will come later. That will come when he wants to drive himself a little more wild. Just seeing how far she has progressed is its own version of foreplay.]

Hey. [Another step, another push.] If you have questions of your own, you shouldn't hesitate to ask them.

[interstices]

[Any improvements? There aren't any improvements to be made on his end. He's absolutely, excruciatingly flawless. If anything, his disobeying her orders had led to a quicker, better outcome on the battlefield today. Even a bloodbath looks like ballet when he's piloting. It makes her want to vomit each time she spares his skills a thought. Her expression sinks into its usual grimace. She's never, ever been one to hang onto praise she hasn't earned.]

[And she's earned precisely zero in the last few years. Her list of notable achievements has been in the same stasis as her body. Nothing meaningful, nothing worth reaching for. She thinks sometimes of those soldiers over a century ago, the photos of them in psychology textbooks, how as every war passed the name for what they went through got longer and longer, from shellshock to battle fatigue to post-traumatic stress disorder. She doesn't equate herself with them, not remotely. If they lost it, really lost it, they had the luxury of going back home. She's got nowhere but this sorry little room to bury herself in.]

[The plugsuits leave little to the imagination on how he's built, but she's still interested when he pulls off his shirt, feeling around his chest with that same bizarre, removed curiosity that she'd had when she'd squeezed his arm. Almost the same kind of scrutiny she gets during lab tests with Dr. Akagi, except the tight line of Asuka's mouth conveys more than scientific interest. He feels okay. Warm. Clean. And while he's groping her, Asuka's got something to distract herself with. He's not fumbling around like she'd hoped, not awkward in the slightest as he touches her, her own thighs twitching as she squeezes them together in compact little movements. His clothed hard-on pressing against her bare body as he pushes her back doesn't bother her the way she'd expected it to. At least it's an indication somebody wants her.]

[He's guiding her straight to the bed, and worse, she's letting him. Every step backwards feels like giving in. Her bare toes curl against the carpet as if she's trying to root herself there, but she isn't, really. She's thinking she'd rather just do it against the wall, with none of the stupid pretenses a bed entails, but the thought of a first time like that feels decidedly worse, like a bad porno. No. The bed will do.]

[It would do better if she didn't stumble slightly on the way, half-thanks to her own unwillingness to pull apart long enough to get onto the bed, but she muffles her embarrassment by jerking him forward by both shoulders. Her back hits the familiar sterile blankets, and immediately she tries to roll him over, raising a knee to help her leverage, in case he doesn't want to go down so easily.]

[She could ask him a lot, but every question burns on its way to her throat. What are you has an idiotic answer already. What are you like is closer, but far worse. Asuka's tongue runs across the back of her teeth before she finally responds.]

I want to know what you're capable of.

[labyrinthos]

[There's more to piloting Eva than just controlling Eva in every sense of the word. Piloting is effortless for Kaworu, which is precisely why Shikinami's efforts serve to inspire him. She has been doing this for years and years, more than two decades now, and she still has the room to make improvements. It's a beautiful thing. Her humanity has waned, but she still changes and develops the same as they do. He has wanted to put that much effort into something and have it be profitable. He has tried to emulate her commitment, even when he's ignoring her orders. Paying more attention to battlefield conditions, for one thing. Analyzing what's in front of him logically, rather than listening to his instincts. Not just relying on his A.T. Field to brute force everything...

Maybe, eventually, a well-developed sense of reasoning will help him to defeat Commander Ikari in battle.

Eventually.

But he still has the cruel luxury of time on his side, allowing him to think about other things for now. He's always thinking about his Ikari Shinji-kun, but he's also thinking about how smooth her thighs feel when meeting the softly sculpted slope of her ass. He's also thinking about the meager creak of the springs when they land on top of the bed, and the rustle-rush of fabric along fabric as she flips him over. Not putting up much of a fight, he submits to her whims. He stretches out on his back, his legs extended, toes curling, with his hands settled around her hips. He smiles up at her as though he's winning the lottery--no, it's more life-changing than that. He has the smile of one of those soldiers, from one of the old photographs, just after hearing the war is finally over.]

What I'm capable of...

[She could scratch his skin and it would heal. She could rip him open and he would survive. She could strike him repeatedly with a Prog knife and that would hardly chip his core, much less crack it open. The amount of power it would take to invite the rainbow and tide of blood is far beyond her abilities.

His patience is legendary. His understanding is vast. His good will is greater than any human being might claim to have. His appearance is flawless and his voice is low and insistent, the kind of voice that intrudes but apologizes for it. Anyone who's met him, even those who despise him, will never be able to ever forget him.]

I can be honest with you.

[WILLE operates under a permanent veil of secrecy, keeping even the top pilots in the dark about things. Shikinami can't claim to be an exception--if anything, they're hiding more from her than they are from most crewmen. They probably think she's a little unstable and unreliable... psychological contamination, and all. But Kaworu wouldn't lie to her about anything. All she has to do is start asking the right questions.]

I can help you to find joy in the small, quiet places that you may have overlooked.

[Even if that just means having sex, and more sex, and more sex after that. She's a stunning creature, whether or not she's Lilin; he would like to love her if only a little. He's trying to love her now with the slow, sinuous shift of his hips, pushing his covered erection up and against her.

He's almost laughing with pleasure when he asks,] You believe what I'm saying, don't you? Shikinami-san...

[interstices]

No.

[She's grunting, trying to remember how to keep her words clear and cold, how to keep her rage in check and mind in order. Pleasure's making that too hard. It's better than masturbation, even when it's Kaworu beneath her.]

That's not--

[Asuka cuts herself off to keep him from intruding, demanding an answer. She doesn't want happiness. She doesn't want anything he could give her. Every gift, every compliment, gets scrutinized for imperfections and thrown aside. She learned a long time ago never to trust an adult about anything, and though Kaworu's no adult, he's making the promises of one like a politician gunning for reelection. He can't give her anything she's already refused.]

[No, what she wants is the answers nobody on the ship knows or else just wants to give her. She can understand the facsimile of the woman that's still, to Asuka, Colonel Katsuragi, but she can't understand anyone else. She never knew what game was really being played, and never cared much back when she was really fourteen and not every door was barred to her, back when she wasn't just another creepy relic on board, but a cute, stupid kid. She already knows exactly what's happened to her and continuing to happen to her in increment after increment. There's no way out of it. There's just the attempt at assigning it meaning.]

[The mismatch of their discarded clothes reminds her of just how futile an attempt this whole tryst probably is. Grunting, grumbling, she tries to correct that, except for all that she's piloted Eva since practically childhood, she can't summon up the will to unbutton his pants and yank down his boxers.]

[It's not that she's afraid, not exactly. It's that it makes it irrevocable. Asuka had imagined first times in a reluctant sort of way, with some put-upon, lousy dark-haired boyfriend she'd shoved into the ordeal and mocked the whole way through, but she's silent now except for ratchety gasps as he rubs up against her. When he moves, she sees clear fluid in streaks on the outside of his pants, and knows-- feels, really-- it's hers. She's wet. She's actually getting wet.]

[Her first time wasn't supposed to involve a barren room or an Angel, but she decides she can't abide losing her virginity while her top's still on. The thought makes a glint form in her eyes and a near-smile flash on her face for the tiniest of seconds before she presses her arm against his shoulder in a signal to stop bucking his hips and yanks both her blouse and bra off, out of their way. Her next words are just a demand.]

Take off your pants.