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[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.]

You've been known to do it occasionally.

[Or often, depending on Kaworu himself. Teasing is something they tend to bring out in each other. It's a gateway for them to express fondness, a sort of fun that Kaworu has never been ever to experience before, that only comes with being close to someone else.

He covers Paul's hands with his own and gently guides one under his shirt, that familiar grin back on his face.]

You'll have to give me an example.

[He meets the grin with one of his own this time, the dark warmth of a new kind of playfulness blooming in his eyes as he drifts his hand higher up Kaworu's shirt, rucking the hem up his back unevenly.

His fingertips ghost the vulnerable hollow under his arm, but don't delve in to test the tickliness of angels just yet. His thumb splays out instead, to the edge of the slight but present pectoral muscles.]

Am I teasing you now?

Edited 2022-05-10 00:59 (UTC)

Teasing is when you say things that you know aren't true to try and fool me. Like when you tell me I've slept through the entire day but it's really just later in the morning.

[He leans into the touch, one hand twisting in Paul's shirt as if to steady himself against the gentle sensation. The other rests on Paul's, rubbing gently at long fingers with a thumb.]

Right now you're being playful. Because you mean what you say and what you do.

Sometimes it's already afternoon.

[He drifts his fingers on the other hand under Kaworu's shirt as well, grazing over the constellations of scars there.

Paul handles Kaworu as delicately as one of his illusive butterflies, but there's a weight to his palms that suggests he's very aware of his warm, definite physicality as well.]

I'm glad to know the difference.

[He leans up to kiss him again, framing his ribs between his hands.]

Only sometimes. And it's dark all the time now. So is there even morning or afternoon anymore?

[He has to defend his honor at least a little bit before he collapses forwards to bring his lips to Paul's, as though drawn by a magnetic force that he can't resist.

There's something about Paul handling him so gently, like he's something delicate that could break like glass, that makes him feel warm and soft.]

[Paul makes another soft sound crushed between their mouths, lips parting to slip his tongue along the seam of Kaworu's. It might be a yes, decidedly affirming, but whether it's to the question or the kiss is unknowable.

Being up here, out of sight of anyone on the ground but exposed to every star above them, that Paul thinks (as much as he thinks) he likes. As if the whole world is small beneath them, far away and none of their concern.

It makes him bolder. He pulls Kaworu closer, chest to chest, to feel the hum of his S2 engine.]

[Kaworu opens himself to Paul's tongue as it's his turn to make a soft, unrestrained sound. Though unrestrained might be his default, it's always with words that he can use to get something out of someone else. A sound is just a sound, vulnerable, with no chance to gain an upper edge.

When Paul pulls him close he reaches out to tangle his fingers in curly hair, just like he did in the closet. He likes being like this. Paul's heartbeat in his chest, his fingers in soft hair, his thumb stroking a strong jaw bone.]

[There's a growing collection of sounds that Kaworu makes wound into the fabric of Paul's memory, indexed against a multiplicity of factors. Where he was touched, and when, and how long, and how much. Paul is a quick learner in this, as all things.

He knows how to coax an echo of it from him again, a light curl of his tongue against his, but not too deep. He tilts his face into the tracing of Kaworu's thumb, a warm hum pulled out of him in turn. His hands aren't content to stay still, roaming up and down his back as if mapping the territory under his palms.]

[Kaworu should know that Paul is breaking this down, mapping it, trying create rules and logic where it may not exist. But he's too enthralled by all of this, completely in the moment, to call the other boy out.

He gives Paul the soft echo of a pleased moan, barely more than a soft exhale through his nose, further satisfied by the hum that Paul makes.

Then Paul's hand brushes a ticklish spot on the ribs on his back, next a newer scar, and he can't hold back a soft noise, almost a squeak, into Paul's mouth and he squirms like one of Paul's worms.]

[Paul's laugh melts into something warm and sticky crushed between their mouths as Kaworu wriggles on top of him, and his fingers slip down to catch a belt loop in an effort to hold him still. It doesn't do much but realign certain angles, press the tilt of his hips closer to Paul's soft belly.]

Too sensitive? [He breathes, between one kiss and the next.] Or did you like that?

[He's determined that thorough information collection can be pleasurable, if you're doing it right.]

[There's a soft hiccup against Paul's lips and the flutter of wings as another butterfly appears. Still, Kaworu moves with Paul's efforts to steady him, sinking closer to him, trying to think.]

It was sensitive. But I think I liked it.

Edited 2022-05-15 14:06 (UTC)

[Speaking of things that tickle - Paul wrinkles his nose and catches his laugh behind firmly sealed lips, transmuting it into a low hum.]

Let's see.

[He seeks out the spot again, trailing a finger along the fresh, raised scar before dipping to the sensitive spot below and drawing a skimming circle, anchoring Kaworu by his belt loop.]

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