One of the things Paul finds fascinating about Kaworu is the ruthlessness he sometimes has in cutting through all the chaff of social rituals. He plunges to the heart of things, fearlessly direct. He's done it to Paul on several occasions before this one.

But that was then, and this is Kaworu looking up at him with bold crimson eyes as he twists against Paul's overheated body and sets his pulsing head spinning. Despite the two glasses of water, his mouth is dry, and he swallows as he glances down, which doesn't help at all when he ends up focused on his mouth instead.

"No," he protests, too quick and too quiet, "I don't- I don't expect anything."

He drops his gaze lower, to the collar of Kaworu's pajamas, where he finds a loose thread to fixate on.

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to."