[Kaworu's exploratory fingers leave bronze static in their wake, spark novel colors at periphery of Paul's vision. His tongue is stuck to the roof of his mouth, and it's a relief to have Kaworu settled in one place. Except that his hair still tickles at Paul's throat, his skin warm against the rarely bare skin of Paul's collarbone.]
Wrestling is serious.
[So is karate, but that's an already lost battle. Paul adjusts his arm to better support Kaworu's back, which draws him slightly more than half into Paul's lap as a side effect. It's necessary for freeing a hand to experimentally trace the outer curve of Kaworu's ear, whole and unblemished.]
I don't think we're afraid of pain. We're afraid of being hurt. Does that make sense?
no subject
Wrestling is serious.
[So is karate, but that's an already lost battle. Paul adjusts his arm to better support Kaworu's back, which draws him slightly more than half into Paul's lap as a side effect. It's necessary for freeing a hand to experimentally trace the outer curve of Kaworu's ear, whole and unblemished.]
I don't think we're afraid of pain. We're afraid of being hurt. Does that make sense?