terriblepurpose | Deer Country Contact

[Ten thousand years of carefully planned development failed to eliminate this particular weakness. Paul purses his lips and pointedly doesn't squirm at the poking exploration.]

That's not fair.

[Does he mean the accusation of him using ticklishness against Kaworu, or the turnabout of the whole thing on him? He forestalls questions like that by proving Kaworu right about the former: Paul hooks his leg around Kaworu's and insinuates himself closer, hoping to distract Kaworu from further investigations.]

You already know too many of my weaknesses.

It's a little fair.

[Kaworu obliges, curling closer, so his head is resting against Paul's chest. Listening to the gentle thrum of his body and letting it sooth him.

He taps gently on his sternum.]

That's the danger when you open your heart to another. They learn things about you that you've kept hidden to yourself. You share them, even unconsciously.

[Whenever Kaworu talks about hearts, it sounds like poetry, but he means it as a matter of fact. Paul wonders if that's what a divine messenger is meant to be: a bridge between the metaphorical and the literal, divine and mundane.]

That's true.

[Paul's breathing slows and quiets under Kaworu, broken by a small hum as he runs his fingers through his hair.]

But it's an opportunity, too. With the right person. Someone you can trust to share those things with.

[He lets his head fall back as he looks up at the stars.]

Or that's how it's supposed to be.

[There's a contented sigh, almost a hum, at the fingers running through his hair. It's a gentle sensation, soothing in how he can feel the press of long fingers and his hair falling slowly back into place.

He runs his own fingers gently down Paul's ribs, stroking his side.]

That's true. Hearts want to be known and there's comfort in it. That's why people take the risk, even if they know there's a chance they might end up hurt.

[Talking about hurts reminds Paul of the bronze glow of spice, that first heady contact, and he's reminded of it further by the brush of fingers down his ribs. He feels like a still pool breaking into ripples under them.]

Do I comfort you?

[He knows the answer. He asks anyway, and there's one of those things he tries not to let anyone else see. He wants to be comforting, even if he's so often falling short.]

You-

[Kaworu says with a tone that swings upwards as he shifts, rolling over to rest on his stomach so he can look Paul more directly in the face. The tone is teasing but that melts away when he catches Paul's eyes.

He reaches forward and runs a hand down his face, pausing to rub a thumb against a cheekbone.]

You do. You make me feel safe in a way I've never felt around humans.

[The swell in his chest is overwhelming. It presses the very air out of him, a long, gentle breath out as he looka down at the angel perched on him so gingerly.]

That's- [He brushes his knuckles across Kaworu's jaw; a mirror, a reciprocation.] I'm glad.

I know I'm safe around you. [He smiles, sunlit in the dark.] Guardian angel.

Do you know some people say that's what stars are? Angels. All that light, coming to us across thousands of years, impossible distances. [He never seems to be able to resist playing with his hair anymore, when they're alone.] What do you think about that?

I think it's silly. Evidence shows that stars are mostly gas giants, dense burning stars, brilliant but lifeless.

[He butts his head against Paul's shoulder, confirming the protection. He'll always keep Paul safe no matter what.]

Anyone can see the stars. Far fewer ever actually encounter angels or anything of the sort, if they truly do at all.

[Paul lets out an exaggerated oof at the contact of skull to shoulder, but takes advantage of the adjustment to wrap Kaworu in both arms.]

I know that's what they are. I meant...

I was thinking about the chances of us meeting. In all of the oceans of time, out of all the planets orbiting all those brilliant burning lights - what do you think the odds are? How could you calculate them?

[He falls into quiet, stroking the curve of Kaworu's spine between the span of his shoulderblades.]

Do you want to see my star? The one I'm from.

Probably so unlikely that it can't even be quantified. Like finding a raindrop in the ocean. We are in an unlikely place after all. I guess that makes us lucky.

[He curls closer to Paul, wrapping an arm around the curve of his shoulder.]

Show me.

Bringing us back to angels.

[Paul sifts through the sky above, its stars more known to him every day.]

Some people call odds like that miracles. There. Do you see the bright silver planet, below the three white ones there?

[Paul points to the patch of stars he means, tracing from them to the silver gleam of Venus, and then to the left and further below. There's nothing where his finger points but void black. But he knows it's the right place.]

Delta Pavonis is there. It's a main sequence star, like the one this planet orbits.

Caladan is the third planet out, like Earth. It even has a large moon.

[He takes a deep breath through his nose, all the unfurling green of spring mingled with the salt of the nearby sea.]

I miss the storms.

That's true. It's nicer to call it a "miracle" than "the smallest of possible odds" and humans like nice words.

[He shifts in Paul's arms, rolling over slightly so he can follow the trace of Paul's finger. It doesn't matter that he can't see the stars that point the way to the place where Paul was born and raised. He can imagine it with ease.]

So far and yet so similar.

[It does make sense, perhaps, that humans would be attracted to the planets that remind them of where they came from, even if they hadn't been there in thousands of years.]

When I was little, I was afraid of storms. The thunder was so loud at times, it rattled the glass. Perhaps it would have been different if I could have felt the rain or seen the clouds.

[Or if he'd had anyone to hold him through them, Paul thinks - a thought that prompts him to give Kaworu a little press closer, as is also becoming a habit.]

You can now. And if you get nervous -

[He brings his hand down, reaching out for the basket and slipping beneath the covering napkin in search of something. When he finds it, he encloses it secretively in his palm, drawing his arm back to drape over Kaworu.]

- you have me. [He says, as sure about that as he's hesitant about what he follows it with.] I think that's part of what caring about other people is for, isn't it? Having someone to be with, in the storm. Whatever nice words we want to put on it, it's that, too.

Storms don't frighten me anymore.

[He says, both amused and touch at the offer. No one has ever promised to be with him if he was nervous. It makes him curl closer to Paul while relaxing, letting himself melt closer to the other boy closing gaps.]

But you're right. Other things frighten me now. And it's... easier when I'm not alone. And I'd be less afraid if you were here.

[Except... he reaches out to paw playfully at Paul's closed hand. You really thought you got him, didn't you?]

What do you have there? Show me.

[Paul likes the way they weave from solemnity to frivolity, among the many other things he likes about this, and Kaworu pairing his soft trust with a grabby little hand is just like him. Paul's laugh can be felt in both of their chests, low and percussive as rain.]

Haven't you ever heard of a little thing called anticipation?

[He takes merciless advantage of the greater length of his arms to hold it out of reach, even though if Kaworu really wanted it, it'd be his.]

Close your eyes, and I'll tell you what it is. All right?

That's the same as waiting and no one likes waiting.

[But he likes Paul's laugh and how it rumbles through both their rib cages, bony, but still comfortably pressed together. He makes a show of grabbing a few more times, fingers batting against Paul's forearm before he flops back down. Then he blinks a few times and closes his eyes in a way that somehow has flourish.]

It's not medicine, is it?

[It's a joke. But one of those ones are that are revealing in ways he's not even aware of.]

[When Kaworu said he feels safe and at ease around Paul, it's things like that he thinks of. With those red eyes closed, Paul allows himself to look troubled before he bends ever so slightly to kiss one of those shut eyelids, with no more weight than one of the flitting dark butterflies around them.]

I wouldn't fool you like that. I promise.

[He brings two fingers (the other three still folded to hold his surprise) to Kaworu's arm and traces down to his wrist, drawing a half circle across it.]

And some people say waiting makes you want the thing you're waiting for more.

[With that, he winds the bracelet around Kaworu's wrist, a deft flickering movement done with only one hand. It's a slender chain strung with translucent white quartz beads intermixed with star-shaped silver ones.]

All right. You can open your eyes now.

Mm. I believe you.

[He means it. He has, for better or worse, placed his complete trust in Paul, even before they started doing this. This, whatever this is, only cemented his certainty that his trust was placed where in someone who could cradle it carefully, like it was delicate and made of glass. He's too new at this to know that's what trust is like.

He smiles at the soft sensation against his eyelids.]

But how can I know what I'm waiting for if I don't know what it is.

[Thankfully, that's when Paul slips something onto his hand. He opens his eyes and they widen at the sight. He's never received such a gift. He's never received a gift at all.

He raises his pale arm to examine how the moonlight shines through the clear beads and reflects off the stars.]

It's... it's wonderful.

[More precious and beautiful than any jewelry could be is the look of wonderment in Kaworu's heart-red eyes. Paul admires the catch of moonlight in them before he even glances at the bracelet on his wrist again - which suits his coloring like Paul thought it might.]

I hoped you'd like it.

[He kisses the vulnerable span of Kaworu's temple, his hand coming to the other boy's waist.]

It looks beautiful on you.

I think I understand better why humans like gifts.

[He leans into the kiss on his temple before leaning up to kiss the underside of Paul's jaw in return.]

It feels good to be deserving of one.

You deserve everything.

[From almost anyone else, it would be a fervent declaration, laden with poetic license. Paul says it softly and simply, a truth he knows down to the bones. When he says everything, he means it.

So it's for the best that he catches Kaworu's mouth under his own before he can say anything else, long and lingering.]

[Kaworu melts into Paul as their lips touch, letting sensation of the small point of connection flow throughout his entire body, making him feel like his tingling and floating all at once.

He lets the feeling linger for a bit before pulling back, playfully nipping at Paul's lower lip and tracing his lips down Paul's jawline, teeth brushing against the soft skin there.]

How do we know what people deserve?

[He asks, voice breathless, as he shifts slightly, pushing off with his hands to to shift into more of a straddle, instead of prone on top of the taller boy.]

[There's no one up here but Kaworu to try to conceal the soft, needy sound that his teeth pull out of him from, except the butterflies, if they can be counted. Paul still flushes at it, and everything else, his hands moving to rest just above Kaworu's hips like the other boy needs help staying steady.

Paul is the one off balance, deliciously so. He blinks up at Kaworu, dazzled by his silhouette set against the stars behind him.]

We decide.

[He's breathy himself, unguarded and open as he speaks.]

It's a - judgment. An intention for how the world should be - are you really asking, or are you teasing me?

[He doesn't mind either way.]

[It's good that Kaworu's face is still buried in Paul's neck when he hears the noise so Paul can't see the absolute shit-eating grin that he makes when it reaches his ears. Or perhaps, Paul is well aware that Kaworu would be proud of pulling such a sound out of him. ]

Hmm. Both?

[He settles as Paul's hands come around his waist, chin tilted slightly upwards.]

I wanted to know how you would respond if you were teasing or if you were honest.

[Paul has seen Kaworu's look of triumph often enough that he's sure he recognizes it in the way his face moves where it brushes his neck.]

Do I ever tease you?

[Regularly, as he's doing now, his voice slipped effortlessly into innocent bewilderment at the very idea. He brushes his thumbs in small circles over Kaworu's sides, not thinking about tugging up his shirt to do it on bare skin.]

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