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Kaworu slings his arms over the top of the shower stall, steam still rising from his body after a recent shower. Shinji ignores him and quickly loops a towel around his torso, back facing him. He’s wised up by now, no longer so easily flustered by Kaworu’s frequent appearances by his stall after synch tests, although the back of his neck and ears still burn.
“Hey, don’t ignore me.” Kaworu hoists himself up, leaning forward to catch the other boy’s shoulder. Shinji twists away and exits, leaving Kaworu to fall back down, wincing and massaging the thin red line from half lying on top of the stall’s wooden wall.
His brows furrow as he slouches out, still dripping wet and his hair a raggedy mess. He looks like a scrawny, soggy, stray cat, and it’s only when he realises he’s shivering that Kaworu casts around hurriedly for a towel. He can hear Shinji in the next room, the faint sounds of him changing clothes echoing back.
Kaworu sticks out his lower lip, a gesture he has become increasingly familiar with since meeting Shinji. It’s not that he’s worried, particularly. It’s just – he’s used to things working out, and Shinji’s cold shoulder movement is driving Kaworu up the wall.
He flings on his trousers haphazardly, almost tripping over his own feet as he hops out of the shower area. Then, he slumps in dejection when he takes in the empty changing room, the other boy too quick for him.
Kaworu has observed Shinji for the past few weeks, with subtle glances and then not-so subtle ones when he forgets to look away, watching him interact with others, trying to figure him out.
And that’s the thing.
Despite his best efforts, Kaworu just can’t seem to get Shinji to smile for him. Not once, not ever, but he will. For a brief second, the image of Kaworu squishing Shinji’s cheeks into a smile overwhelms him, and he entertains it for a further second before throwing it into the recesses of his mind.
No, he can’t make him smile.
But he will make him smile.
Kaworu gathers his plugsuit and finally leaves the changing rooms, a blast of cold air-conditioning a sudden shock against the humid air before.
He has almost left headquarters when he hears light footsteps behind him, his nose picking up the distinct scent of not-quite-human. He turns.
“Ayanami Rei,” Kaworu greets her, slightly unsure but hiding it behind an inquiring smile.
Ayanami reaches into her pocket and pulls out something slim, holding it out to Kaworu. He takes it and peers at it curiously, brows raising questioningly as Shinji’s face looks up at him, the portrait in a NERV personnel card.
“Shinji’s card has been renewed,” Ayanami says simply. “Give this to him tomorrow.”
He pushes it back at her. “Give it to him yourself,” Kaworu says, partly annoyed, partly bitter. She steps back, shaking her head.
“I will not be at school tomorrow.”
Then, Ayanami steps back again, turning to head back into headquarters. She pauses for a moment, inclining her head back at him. “Are you afraid of talking with him?”
“Huh?!” Kaworu springs into action, crossing his arms defensively. “Who said that?”
Ayanami’s glassy red eyes seem to look through him. “In order to open Shinji’s heart, you must first open yours.”
“What is that supposed to mean?!” Kaworu glares at her. “How do you know that?”
“Shinji taught me.”
A small candle of jealousy lights up within him, but when Ayanami turns to go again Kaworu flings out an arm. “Wait!”
A pause.
Kaworu swallows down envy, this distinctively human trait. “How...how do I get Ikari to like me?”
Ayanami shifts, a small shrug of her shoulders. “Show him.”
“Show him what?”
Ayanami blinks, and for a second Kaworu thinks he sees irritation flash through her eyes. “That you like him, of course.”
She walks away without another word, leaving Kaworu at the exit of headquarters, Shinji’s card clutched in the palm of his hand. He raises it to eye level, passes a thumb over the surface of glossy red. His mind is made up, and he feels like he has purpose once more.
*
Kaworu stares at Shinji from the back of the classroom for the entire morning. Shinji is uncomfortable; he twists in his seat, neck flushed, probably feeling the weight of his gaze. Once recess comes and the teacher stops droning, he pauses in packing his bag to send a glare back at Kaworu, who sits unaffected, smiling gently in response. Shinji escapes the room and flees to the roof with his two friends, leaving Kaworu to contemplate alone in the classroom. Light reflects off Ayanami’s empty desk.
Shinji smiles for other people. For Katsuragi, the team leader, for his two school friends, for Ayanami Rei, and Kaworu’s not sure about the fiery red-headed girl he’s replacing, but he’s sure Shinji smiles for her too.
Sighing, Kaworu rests his chin on a hand, his elbow propped up on the table. Shinji’s card is in his pocket. Would he smile, he wonders, if I gave it back to him?
No. It’s an act of duty. Of course not. Kaworu scoffs at himself, and then buries his head in his arms.
*
Shinji is at the entrance to headquarters when Kaworu arrives, looking down at his card in confusion. Now’s his chance.
Kaworu’s pulse quickens a little, and he walks a little faster, still unnoticed. He remembers Ayanami’s words from the day before.
As he walks, he smiles bravely. Shinji attempts to swipe his card again, but Kaworu is there before him, scanning the new card and unlocking heavy steel doors. He presents the card to Shinji with a little flourish, bowing.
“It is a good thing I have your card, Ikari-kun,” Kaworu says, then looks up, smiling. “Because I am checking you out.”
Shinji is still for a second, and then he is suddenly moving, spluttering, grabbing the card out of Kaworu’s hand. He turns a lovely shade of red and backs away, heading into headquarters with quick steps.
Kaworu follows at a more sedate pace, frowning. It didn’t work, one part of his mind cries, and the other part shouts back: of course it didn’t, you fool! Now think of something different!
“Hey, Ikari,” he says, catching up with Shinji, but the other boy is still so highly embarrassed that he doesn’t answer, eyes determinedly cast down. Kaworu doesn’t push the issue, not wanting to drive him even further away.
Shinji’s synch rate is down today, and by the time he emerges from the LCL he is paler than usual, frowning. Ayanami stands next to him, saying something that Kaworu is too far away to hear.
He edges out of his plug, absentmindedly squeezing a bit of LCL out of his hair. Ayanami says something else, and Shinji’s morose expression breaks, his face lifting into a small smile. Kaworu scowls, but not at Shinji – but at Ayanami, who seems to effortlessly achieve what he cannot. He slinks away to the showers, shrugging out of his plugsuit and underneath streams of hot water long before he hears another set of footsteps echoing down the room.
Kaworu waits until Shinji is dressed to approach him. He pitches his voice low, soft enough not to startle.
“Can I have directions?”
Shinji looks up, fiddling with the collar of his shirt. His gaze seems to bounce off the walls, confused. “To where?”
Kaworu’s voice is solemn and earnest. “To your heart.”
Shinji groans and pressed knuckles to his eyes, and turns away. “Why are you saying all of this?” he asks hopelessly, waving an arm around.
“You have earned my empathy. I like you,” Kaworu replies immediately, and he just knows that Shinji is blushing red under his arm, mortified.
But no smile.
“Leave me alone,” Shinji says finally, and Kaworu wants to melt into a puddle because he has failed, and he continues to fail.
He’s alone in the changing rooms again, and he wants to throttle something.
Kaworu catches up to Ayanami a short while later, obstructing her path by stepping in front of her. “What do I do?” he demands.
She blinks at him.
“He – he won’t smile. Or laugh. Or – or, I don’t know...” Kaworu trails off, somewhat flustered by the non-response. “What did you talk about with him?”
“I told him I would be at school tomorrow.”
Kaworu’s shoulders slump. There has to be some other way...why is it so difficult...?
“Why do you not just ask him to smile for you?”
*
Kaworu slides into the seat next to Shinji the next day, instantly pivoting with his chin rested upon his hand so that he is facing the other boy.
Shinji averts his eyes even as Kaworu opens his mouth, cringing as he begins to speak. “Ikari-kun, are your feet tired? Because you have been running through my mind all day.”
Shinji buries his face in his hands even as half the class bursts into snickers, and Kaworu gazes on calmly, smiling beatifically. Whispers run rampant through the classroom for the rest of the morning, Shinji’s head dropping lower and lower. Kaworu worries.
At recess, Shinji is off like a bullet towards the roof, and Kaworu moves to head him off. His friends trade glances and stay where they are, not interfering.
Shinji is leaning against the railing when Kaworu appears through the door. He must have made a noise that gave him away, for Shinji stiffens as he walks closer, spinning around defensively. “What do you want, Nagisa?”
Kaworu draws nearer. “Why do you smile, Ikari-kun?” he asks, honestly curious, waiting for an answer. Shinji blinks back at him, confused.
“Why...I smile?” The half question is long, drawn out. “Because I want to. Don’t you smile when you’re happy?”
“Do I make you unhappy?” Kaworu vaguely feels like something is sinking.
“I – um...” Shinji’s mouth works uselessly for a moment, his cheeks colouring. “No, I just...”
“Then why – ?” Kaworu steps forward, eyes wide with feeling. “Why don’t you smile now? For me? Do you hate me?”
Shinji is pressed against the metal bars of the railing, mouth parted. “What? Why...” he struggles, regains himself. “Why is that even an issue?!”
Kaworu seizes Shinji’s shirt, bunching it between his fingers. “Because I like you! I want to see you smile. For me!”
Shinji pushes him away, staggering past him. He gives one last look to Kaworu. “You’re strange.”
Then he is running away, and Kaworu groans and presses fingers against his eyes.
*
Shinji is not at school the next day, and Kaworu stares listlessly at the blackboard, conscious of the empty seat next to him.
Shinji’s friends approach him at break time, one of them slamming his hands down on Kaworu’s table. Touji, if he recalls correctly.
“Yo. What the fuck did you do to Shinji?” Touji growls at him, squinting menacingly.
Kaworu straightens, an idea coming to mind. “What do you do,” he inquires, “to make Shinji laugh?”
Touji exchanges a glance with the other boy, then shrugs, the anger apparently knocked back for now. “I dunno, tell a joke or somethin’. You are a weirdo.”
Kaworu brightens, and the two soon leave him alone, going away to do better things.
At the end of the school day, the class president approaches him, holding a sheaf of papers in her hands. “Um...you’re another pilot, right, Nagisa-san?” she says. He looks up and nods.
She holds out the papers to him. “This is the work that Shinji missed today. I...asked Rei to give them to him, but she said you would take them. I hope it’s not a bother –”
Kaworu smiles easily at her. “Thank you,” he says, accepting the papers and pushing them carefully into his bag. “I will make sure Ikari-kun receives them today.”
The class president looks relieved, and smiles back.
Just before leaving, Kaworu looks back into the classroom. Ayanami is looking out of the window calmly, and he wonders if he should thank her some time in the future.
*
Kaworu presses the buzzer to Shinji’s apartment. “Knock knock,” he says drolly as he hears the sound of feet approaching. The door slides open, and Shinji peers out, looking somewhat disconcerted. He sighs as he sees Kaworu’s face.
“Who’s there?” he mutters.
Kaworu’s smile grows a little wider. “Lettuce,” he says, clasping his arms behind his back.
“Lettuce who?”
“Lettuce in!”
Shinji huffs something out but turns away too quickly for Kaworu to make anything of his expression, stalking into his living room in an apparent invitation for him to enter. Kaworu hides another smile and crosses the threshold, kicking off his shoes.
Shinji is waiting in the living room, arms crossed expectantly. “What is it, Nagisa?” he says, and Kaworu wonders if Shinji was sick at all, or rather avoiding him altogether.
“You missed these sheets today,” he tells him simply, setting his bag onto the kitchen table, reaching in to draw out the papers.
Shinji spins around, apparently remembering his manners, and busies himself in the kitchen with some tea. While Kaworu is still in the living room, he calls out. “What do you do with epileptic lettuce?” he says.
Kaworu looks up as Shinji comes back to the table with two mugs of tea, setting one down before him. He sits down, and Shinji does the same next to him. “What do you do?”
“You make a seizure salad.”
Shinji’s lips twitch as he says the words, but when Kaworu merely tilts his head to the side in bemusement he rolls his eyes and sighs, taking a gulp of his tea. “Never mind.”
Kaworu blinks at him for a few seconds more with those wide red eyes, before remembering himself. “Here,” he says, and holds the sheets out.
Shinji flicks through the papers, a bit peeved at the amount of homework, but he translates this to a nod of his head. “Thanks, Nagisa.”
Kaworu presses his luck. “Kaworu is fine,” he says, smiling in invitation.
Shinji closes his eyes briefly. “Kaworu,” he says with exaggerated care, but the nonchalance is ruined by the slight tinge of red as Kaworu beams eagerly at him.
“I can help with that,” he says solicitously, pointing at the homework. He can’t believe the luck he is having – this is one of the most – no, the most relaxed conversation he has ever had with the other boy.
Shinji looks uncertain, and Kaworu decides to speed along his reply. “There are some things we only learned today,” he offers. “And I haven’t finished mine either. We could work on it together, Ikari-kun.”
Shinji relents. “Alright.” Then: “...you can call me Shinji, too.”
Kaworu practically glows. “Then let us get to work, Shinji-kun.”
They both stand at the same time, and for a thrilling second neither of them know what is happening as chair legs and then legs become entangled, and suddenly both of them have tripped over each other’s feet, and they’re falling, falling –
Both chairs have fallen drunkenly to the side. Kaworu is on the ground, and Shinji is above him, hands clutched around Kaworu’s shoulders in an attempt to lessen the impact of the floor.
Kaworu grimaces, then lets out a short, muffled laugh. He looks upwards, Shinji’s ear directly next to his head. “You must be a broom, Shinji-kun,” he breathes, the stream of air tickling Shinji’s skin.
“Why?” he says stupidly, arms still stuck underneath Kaworu in the weird tangle of limbs they are in.
“Because...because you just swept me off my feet.”
Kaworu has the stupidest expression on his face, clearly amused at his cleverness, and Shinji swears he can see pale skin warming. He rolls his eyes, and before he can rethink his decision, starts talking.
“You know you’re totally asking for it,” Shinji says, rising slightly and worming his hands out from underneath a comfortably warm back.
“Asking for what?” Kaworu says dreamily, eyes slightly out of focus.
Shinji takes a deep breath, weighing the options, and figuring it can’t hurt, plunges downward, mouth colliding with Kaworu’s, who makes a slight noise of surprise. Kaworu tastes like the green tea they were just drinking.
A bit breathlessly, Shinji pulls back, already averting his eyes, ready to get up and just die of shame, while Kaworu blinks up at him.
“Huh?” No one has ever kissed Kaworu before, not even on the cheek, and Shinji feels warm and comfortable on top of him. The kiss was a strange feeling too, quickening his pulse, making him feel fuzzy all over.
He looks decisively upwards, tapping on Shinji’s shoulder. “That was queer. Let us do it again,” Kaworu declares.
He’s not quite sure what he expected, but it’s certainly not for Shinji to stare back in surprise for a few seconds, before shaking a little, bursting into a peal of laughter so hard that Kaworu can’t quite believe it’s the same person.
Shinji laughs almost hysterically, the absurdity of the past hour – no, the past few days – catching up with him. He buries his head in Kaworu’s shoulder, still shaking with hilarity and barely suppressed giggles.
After a minute, Shinji’s laughter slowly subsides, and he regains control of himself, breathing hard, his cheeks sore from stretching his smile.
Kaworu looks up at him, not wanting to blink and miss a moment. “So this is what it is like, to smile,” he says, gazing upwards, entranced. “To see Shinji-kun smile...”
Shinji shifts so that he is sitting on top of Kaworu’s stomach. “Shut up, Kaworu,” he says with as much daring as possible, and interrupts Kaworu’s absentminded daydreaming to steal another kiss, weird excitement thrilling through him.
The front door slides open, and Shinji freezes, looking up like a deer in the headlights.
Misato, too, is frozen, carefully taking in two boys’ flushed faces, one of them straddling the other, and then blinking rapidly.
“Oh, my Shin-chan is all grown up,” she gushes after an awkward second, edging around the corner of the room. “I’m...I’m just gonna...go into my bedroom, okay?”
Red is creeping down Shinji’s neck again, and he starts as Kaworu tugs on his shirt.
“Shinji-kun, don’t frown like that,” he says, tucking his arms behind his head. “I only just started to see you smile, after all.”
Shinji covers his face with his hands in embarrassment, but underneath, the corners of his mouth are tucked upwards.
Kaworu thinks he may have found heaven in the form of a boy with short dark hair and blue eyes.