Written for the wonderful KaisaSolstys.
They were in an unsteady state of peace, the world shattered and broken in silence around them in the aftermath of the latest angel attack, when Shinji watched Kaworu lift his hand and pressed a kiss to the back of his knuckles. The results were immediate: a blush that spread from his cheeks to his ears and down his neck to his chest and beyond, a full-bodied flush that had Shinji hiding his face in embarrassment in the crook of his elbow.
"What—what was that for?" Shinji gulped air like a dying man, unable to look Kaworu in the eyes. He could feel the smile spread across Kaworu's lips, the back of his hand still pressed to the other boy's mouth.
"You have beautiful fingers," Kaworu said simply, his tone as blithe as if he were commenting about the clouds in the sky. "They should be celebrated." He proceeded to kiss each digit on Shinji's hand with slow reverence, as if Shinji was God and Kaworu just a worshipper.
Shinji didn't know what it was that Kaworu saw; his hands were simple things, his nails trimmed short and economical, clean, with some rough calluses on the edges of his fingers. They weren't like Ayanami's, delicate and small and pale, and they certainly weren't elegant like Kaworu's own. If anything, Kaworu had the most beautiful set of hands Shinji had ever seen. A violinist's hands. A pianist's.
"I like yours better," Shinji muttered under his breath, still unable to meet Kaworu's eyes. He felt the huff of amused laughter, the soft press of lips against his palm, and then his wrist.
"Will you look at me?"
He did, lifting his head and found Kaworu much closer to him than before, still holding onto Shinji's hand, practically nuzzling into it. The sight warmed Shinji in more ways than one, returning the hot flush to his cheeks but also sending a jolt to his heart, having seeing the physicality of Kaworu's actions, the unabashed affection, adoration, acceptance that Kaworu gave him.
Shinji used the hand that was cupping Kaworu's face to bring him closer, his heart beating at his throat, ready to leap out at a moment's notice. It was Kaworu that initiated the kiss, sweet and brief, and Shinji wished he used chapstick before this. He was under no illusion about the condition of his chapped lips, but Kaworu didn't seem to mind or care. Kaworu's eyes were soft and kind.
"You are wonderful," Kaworu murmured.
Shinji couldn't stop the embarrassed laughter that bubbled out from him and he felt as if his heart would burst; he had never been so happy before, hadn't truly known what the word even meant until now. Kaworu's hair tickled his chin from where he laid his head against Shinji's chest, his fingers smoothing down the front of Shinji's shirt.
"I wish we could stay like this forever," Shinji said.
"Couldn't we?" Kaworu asked. He felt heavy against Shinji, a solid weight that he was unused to holding up, so he reached back and braced himself using his hands. Kaworu took the chance to slide his hands around him, hugging him close, closer. "Forget the world, forget everything. Imagine. Only the two of us with no obligation to anyone or anything. Free."
Shinji closed his eyes and let Kaworu's voice wash over him, trying to think of a world without NERV, without Angels; some time where the world wasn't ending. If he could be this happy here, in the ruins of Tokyo-3 with Kaworu leaning against him as a crutch, then wouldn't he be even happier elsewhere? He couldn't imagine it.
"Will—will you stay with me?" Shinji croaked and he immediately felt his cheeks heat up again.
A kiss pressed against the edge of his jaw, and then another on his cheek. "For as long as you'll allow," came the reply, sultry and quiet. After that, Shinji found his voice entirely lost and his fingers, so beloved by the white haired boy against him, mapping expanses of snow white skin. He didn't know where Kaworu came from and neither did he care; they were here, together, and his heart had never soared higher.