Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/12519244.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      F/M, M/M
  Fandom:
      Neon_Genesis_Evangelion
  Relationship:
      Ikari_Shinji/Everyone
  Character:
      Ikari_Shinji, Kaji_Ryouji, Ikari_Gendo, Ayanami_Rei, Suzuhara_Touji,
      Nagisa_Kaworu
  Additional Tags:
      Dark
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-10-27 Words: 2389
****** requiem. (fugue for violin and cello.) ******
by abaddon_(nothingbutfic)
Summary
     What am I, if I can't be yours?
Notes
     The following is majorly nasty, and possibly the most brutal thing
     I've ever written. non-con, abuse, incest, chan, it's all there!
     Contains spoilers for the TV series and D&R and EoE. Am a little
     shaky on canon; sorry. Written while listening to tracks 12 and 14 on
     the EoE soundtrack, as it breaks me.

4.
This is how he remembers it: the blinding sun, the glower from the other boy,
the tension in his stance. A crack of bone against bone, and Shinji’s head
before he feels the pain. He almost sinks to his knees in the hot, dry dust of
the basketball court, but manages not to. Touji murmurs some platitude which
Shinji doesn’t believe, and Kenskue gives an awkward half-smile, half-shrug,
and then away they go.
This is how he remembers it; but it is not how it happened. There are some
memories even Shinji Ikari cannot face, and so he folds them into himself like
something precious that needs to be succoured, and every now and then he takes
them out, dusts them out and lives in them again, knowing that they will give
him the shame he so deserves.
In truth, it started off the same way. Touji, cornering him, with Kenskue
looking on and doing nothing because he’s seen it all before. But Shinji’s
knees remember the feel of the hot ashphalt just beneath his school trousers,
and the feel of Touji’s hands in his hair as he leered and stood over him,
feeding Shinji his cock. It’s nothing Shinji hasn’t done before, and the
insults Touji moans out are nothing he hasn’t heard before, but the taste of
Touji’s cock, salty, bitter, alive, is something he doesn’t dare remember but
can’t completely forget. And even now, Shinji remembers that it’s completely
unique, completely him.
Touji’s come flooded his mouth and ran over his lips, so that Shinji had to
wipe his mouth with the back of his wrist, and that’s where truth and memory
collide again. Kenskue gives the same half-shrug, half-smile, and Shinji
wonders for a moment how many times Kenskue had to sink to his knees before he
could take things so easily.
But for now, Shinji peruses the memory, his thin bedsheet kicked back, his
shorts curled around his ankles. One hand curls around his cock with a grip
that is more familiar than erotic, and he strokes himself with slow, long
motions of his hand. This too is filthy and perverse, suitable only for a freak
such as he, and when he comes hard all over his crotch, hand and thighs, Shinji
cleans himself up with the toilet paper he pilfered earlier for this very
reason, careful not to make a noise.
He knows that this, too, is something that did not happen.
 
3.
They were in the elevator in Central Dogma. The sync tests were over and done
for the day, and apparently the school had emailed them homework, which would
occupy their afternoon and evening. Both were dressed in school uniform, if
only because they don’t really have any other formal clothes.
Tokyo-3 was a city of glass and crystal and steel, dedicated to one purpose and
one purpose alone: the salvation of mankind. To that end, everything is run to
a schedule, everything is orderly. There is a place for everything and
everything in its place, and Shinji knows he is just another cog in the machine
as the click of the elevator counts the floors away.
“Did you wish to have sex with me?” Rei asks, her voice quiet and calm, the
question coming out of nowhere, and it’s a few long seconds before Shinji can
come up with a reply.
“What did you say?”
“Did you want to have sex with me?” she repeats, turning to look at him, and
there’s nothing in that gaze beyond a vague bland sensibility. She honestly
expects her question to be answered, and she sees nothing wrong in the asking.
Typical Rei.
The elevator doesn’t stop and she keeps looking and there’s no salvation in
sight – Misato stayed behind after the tests to drink or growl or glare at
Professor Akagi (probably all three, Shinji thinks) and the second child hasn’t
arrived yet, although everyone’s talking about her.
“What makes you think that?” Shinji blurts out, and the elevator goes click
click click and it’s all wrong because it sounds like he has something to hide,
which of course he does.
“When you were in my domicile,” she says, all soft and clipped, each syllable
precise as the click of the elevator and perhaps Rei is a machine too, “and you
fell on me. You became aroused.”
They whir to a stop and the doors slide open and Rei doesn’t look away. Shinji
says that first, fatal “yes” because there’s nothing else he can say. Rei leads
the way, and Shinji follows in behind as there is nothing else for him to do.
A short while later, and they are on Rei’s bed, in her sad, empty little set of
rooms. The curtains are taped in place, the wallpaper torn and faded, and the
only thing that really says anyone is living there are the blood stains on the
floor, and the waste paper basket full of used bandages.
She rides him as he imagines she does her Eva; her breathing comes in quiet,
shallow pants, the sole indication of her exertion. Her face is a picture of
dedication, and yet there’s something beyond as well; something even beyond
her, a peace and a sanctity to the smooth, white curve of her breasts, which
Shinji fondles, the slant of her face, and the expression that she wears: one
he didn’t even think she was capable of. She’s not a virgin, judging by the
lack of blood or pain from a broken hymen, and Shinji files that information
away for some other, darker time.
Shinji loses himself in the tight clench of her thighs, and the wet heat of her
cunt, and when he comes with a cry all is white noise and blind fury, a chorus
of angels in his mind. He collapses to the bed, barely noticing as she steps
astride of him, and soon the sound of water hitting tile can be heard from the
bathroom as Rei takes a shower.
He is somewhat cleaned up and dressed by the time she gets out clad only in a
towel, hair messy and shirt rumpled – Rei didn’t have any spare coat-hangers,
sadly – but he looks passable, and he hopes he doesn’t reek of sex, the way
he’s always suspected people do. There’s a brief, perfunctory talk about
precautions, which Shinji blushes and mumbles his entire way through. He does
know his stuff, after all, every child does. In the world after Second Impact,
sex education is mandatory at age eleven, and there are incentives for those
who were have been found fertile enough to breed. Abortion is banned,
contraceptives illegal and the Pope is doing a jig; the human race needs to
reproduce better than it can, or else they’ll be wiped from the face of the
earth. Rei is far more clinical than any sensei could be, and all the more
disturbing because she’s talking about herself. Rei is infertile, and she
mentions it as she does everything else, as if it were the weather, and Shinji
can barely disguise the sick twisted joy in his gut at that news.
Rei politely tosses him out into the street before he’s tied his shoes. Shinji
struggles home with a burden that feels more like a defeat than a victory, and
he doesn’t know why she made him wear his father’s broken glasses.
 
2.
When Kaji asks if he wants a cup of tea, Shinji reminds him that he’s a boy.
Once that prerequisite is out of the way, they can get to some down and dirty
groping on their next encounter as the drink machine.
At least, it sounds better that way, doesn’t it? It sounds erotic, hard,
furious, exciting, and lots of other words that Shinji has gone through his
English Dictionary and underlined. He can’t even remember how it started; he
knows Kaji asked him if he wanted something to eat, and then Kaji’s hands were
fast holding to Shinji’s upper arms and it’s all a blur from then till he comes
with a sigh, spilling himself all over Kaji’s hands quick, all too quick, and
Shinji averts his eyes so he can’t be embarrassed by the look that he knows
Kaji will give him.
Kaji dusts him down, smooths his clothes, buys him a soda, and sends him on his
way. The harsh, sweet taste of Coke is enough to wash away the faint taste of
cigarettes and cinnamon in Shinji’s mouth, and although he doesn’t really like
Coke, it would be impolite to waste it, so he drinks it down on his way home.
Asuka takes one look at him and declares he looks like a drowned rat, before
bombarding him with questions as to who he got into a fight with. Shinji’s face
feels scratched all over – from Kaji’s stubble, he guesses – and he’s still not
settled, so it’s easy to just fluster and avoid the question, which is what he
would do anyway. Part of him wants to tell her what happened, just to see the
look on her face, but for the most part he’s glad that this girl is just a
child like the rest of them, and not the woman she pretends to be.
Shinji retreats to his room and his tape player, and licks the dry come from
his hands. Kaji pulled him up and out from the chair in the hall just after he
came, all sharp angles and unforgiving hard plastic. The taste is a little
heavy; like flour, like salt, like nothing in between, and Shinji makes sure
there’s no trace before Misato comes home.
When she sticks the head in the door, he turns away, but he can’t get away from
her that easily, and when they sit down to dinner she eyes the redness across
his face with a look that knows rather than understands. He gets up to do the
dishes, Asuka goes back to her television, with loud music and flashing colours
– and Shinji always wonders why the imagery and sound reminds him of being in
an Eva during battle – but Misato shakes her head with one quick jerk from left
to right and pushes him back in his seat. Without saying why, she starts doing
the dishes herself tonight, after getting him a beer from the fridge.
 
1.
Shinji’s lost count of the number of times he’s run away. Away from NERV, away
from Misato, away from Eva and blood and battles and death. But he keeps coming
back, because there’s nowhere for him to go. The blood’s a part of him now,
after what happened to Touji. Perhaps it always was.
If Eva was the only thing he was good at, and all Eva does is kill, then all he
is is a killer. He can say he’ll stop, and mean it, but that never works
either. He’s the one boy in all the world who has the power to save it, and
damnation is his chief reward.
Professor Akagi tells him quietly that he has to report to the Commander’s
office, and there’s something sagging in her voice. Like the rest of them,
she’s been pushed to the limit and past it; beyond what she thought she was
capable of, and she’s been found wanting.
Shinji takes his time in getting there, not walking quickly nor dragging his
heels, for he knows this time will, must, come. Instead, he trails his fingers
along the cool metal skin of the walls, feeling the slight whisp of air wash
over him as he travels the moving walkways, and when he gets to his father’s
office he can hate him and nothing more.
He and Gendo look at one another, Gendo’s palms flat against the polished
wooden surface of his desk and Gendo pushes himself back slightly. Shinji knows
what to do; he positions himself under the desk between Gendo’s legs, unzips
the fly and quietly swallows his father’s cock with a muffled choking noise.
He’s not that used to it yet, or the pull in his hair, but he knows he will be
in time. He knows too, with a terrible sense of remembering ahead, that this is
all he is and all he will be, and if he has children he will treat them far
worse than Gendo ever did him.
That thought is almost comforting, and Shinji falls into the drowsy repetition
of sucking his father off. Gendo comes softly, with a sigh that might have been
Yui’s name, and without a word Shinji is dismissed to find his own
entertainment and made good until his next, inevitable punishment.
 
0.
School’s out – permanently, seeing as there’s a big lake where half the city
used to be. Shinji walks by there every day, if only to remember what he
caused. He’s alone now and it’s all his fault, no-one else’s.
A boy hums just over to one side, and Shinji hates him instantly for being
happy when he himself can not. Yet the boy smiles at him, and keeps smiling. In
an instant Shinji realises what the boy is offering, and every second they
spend together Kaworu offers it again and again in his smile, his voice, the
glint in his eye, and the hands that move close to Shinji before Shinji can run
away.
He does not let Kaworu touch him, because that would be too easy, however he
may want to. He does not let Kaworu touch him in the shower, or hold his hand
on the walk home, or curl up next to him in bed. When Kaworu betrays him,
Shinji is absurdly grateful, for Kaworu becomes just like the others, and no
threat at all.
In the days after Kaworu’s death, Shinji wraps himself up in grief like a
shroud, and divests himself of all other emotion. When he allows himself, he
wonders what it would have been like to find absolution in that touch, and does
not know if that possibility or his current fate horrifies him more.
The world ends, as it should, and everything passes away: utterly, utterly, a
terrible beauty is born. Shinji is left on the seashore with the one person who
owes him no pity, and who can hurt him the most.
God’s in His heaven and all’s right with the world.
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