Disclaimer: I own absolutely own nothing.

Author's Note: I am combining what happened in the manga and the movie, so even if you haven't seen one, the other would suffice since you can imagine the setting. I also do not own Neon Genesis Evangelion. This was written for the Springkink community on LiveJournal under the prompt of: Comfort, forgiveness; masturbation - seeking a form of redemption.

Warnings: As the prompt states, there is masturbation inside in a situation one could possibly conclude as rape (which was pointed out to me), but if you know the story you may think otherwise.

March 2, 2010

Shinji had been attempting to cook dinner. Cooking eased the ever-worry that plagued his mind. He, at least, was in a better state than Asuka. They were both hurting, but she was taking it with more force. This wasn't new.

She had come into the room, silently enough that he couldn't hear her enter over the bubbling of the water as it boiled. When she spoke, he jumped, whirling around to meet her steel gaze.

"I want to see you do it," she had said. He didn't question the look on her face, only the motive behind her words.

"See me do… what?" he asked.

She lowered her voice. "I remember when you did it. My eyes were open, weren't they? When I thrashed around, did it turn you on even more?"

"Where is this coming from?" Shinji knew exactly what she was alluding to. "Asuka, you can't be serious—"

"Did I just speak in German, Third? I want to see it. See you do it." She was the personification of defiance, hands on her hips, eyebrows furrowed.

Shinji tried to backpedal as fast as he could. "You can't… you're making fun of me. Sometimes I just can't help what—"

She sat down at the kitchen table. "Did I say 'reason your way out of this' or did I tell you to be a man and own up to your actions? Come on, Third. Or… do you only get hot when you think about the First?"

He hissed as he leaned back a bit too far and touched the hot stove. "That's a lie!" Cursing softly to himself, he put his finger in his mouth to dull the throbbing. He shut off the stove. Nothing would get cooked, much less eaten, for a while.

An extended lapse of silence had passed. "Well?"

He pulled his finger out of his mouth, trying to plead with his eyes rather than with his words. When that failed, her expression unchanging, he asked, "But why?"

"Why? Don't question me," she snapped. "Are you questioning me?"

If he was going to go down, he might as well do it with guns blazing. "Then you do it, too! Why the hell should I be the one on display?"

"What gives you the right to demand seeing me doing that?" she screeched. She slammed the palms of her hands on the wooden table for emphasis, looking as if she were about to stand up but making no move to.

He tried to retort, "What gives you the right—"

"Were you lying in a hospital bed, hooked up to various machines, only to have a friend of yours, someone you believed to have some semblance of a relationship with—good or bad—come in and masturbate to you when they see a little flesh? I go around this apartment wearing a hell of a lot less than I did at that time. You see me come out of the shower how much?

"Was it because you actually saw my breasts? Did that finally push you over the edge? Did you lurk in my bedroom at night when I was asleep and defile me while I was unknowing and unconscious? Does that get you off? No, you don't have that much of a spine. Maybe it was because I couldn't fight back, couldn't shut you down, or knock you out of your pubescent stupor before your hand rubbed your dick so raw you had the gall to cry when you were done. Did it hurt?

"You know what pains me more than you making a mess all over yourself because of me? The fact that you can't be a man and own up to it. So that's what I'm saying to you now."

Shinji swallowed thickly. He was torn between what should've been his jerk response and what he owed her. He knew that his past actions were demeaning, and that this was an equivalent exchange, but… how could this solve what the past complicated? It was something that she wanted from him. He couldn't deny her. Did she know that? She probably did, which is why she was there, sitting so strongly, so sure and confident, at the kitchen table with those eyes trained on him as if he were the only thing in existence on the planet. He may have been.

He swallowed thickly. "I see your… I see your point."

"And you're still going to fight me?"

"I'm sorry," he said weakly. He mumbled his apology a few times after that. Was he apologizing for fighting her demands or that he had done the action in the first place?

"Don't fucking start, Third," she warned. She sized him up and down, planning the best way of attack. "Come here," she demanded.

He stepped forward, knowing that prolonging the inevitable would hurt him more. She could have gotten anything she wanted from him, anything at all, but she wanted this?

He had a weak spot for that face, as sad and masochistic as it was—the fact that he had a weak spot, not her face. Maybe, even, her face; any happiness that flittered across her it was usually at the expense of someone else. Had he ever genuinely seen her smile? Why was he doing this for her?

If anyone felt the need to ask for a reason he cared so much, he wouldn't be able to give one.

In the middle of his mental volley, Asuka's hands had reached out to unbuckle his belt. The sharp tug that forced him closer to her snapped Shinji out of his reverie.

"Asuka," he said weakly. If he could get her to stop, maybe…

He was ignored.

The belt pushed aside as she went to unbutton his pants. He was already twitching to life underneath the restraints of fabric and she wasn't surprised. He was surprised at his body's betrayal.

"Asuka! Please!"

She responded to begging. "Please what?" She was giving him a chance?

"Stop this!"

She spared him a roll of her eyes. "Shut up, Third. Would you really feel like a man if the Stooges found out that you chickened out?" When he refused to respond, she laughed, a harsh echo in the silence of the kitchen.

Asuka tugged his pants and underwear past his hips and to his knees, sparing formality and pretense. She could have been doing something as boring as reading a magazine, for all he knew, with that expression on her face. Despite his better intentions, the proximity of Asuka to his erection was enough to push his mind to even dirtier thoughts. They were in the kitchen, dammit! Couldn't any place in this apartment be sacred?

He could have hallucinated the small noise of appreciation—something positive, at least—coming from the back of Asuka's throat as she sat back in the chair, regarding his vulnerability with a languid drag of a stare. He almost questioned if she had been in this situation before, but pushed that thought back into the 'don't give a shit' part of his brain where many problems had been filed lately. Only the basic needs and instincts remained.

"Do you have to… face me? Can't you turn around at least?"

"Heavy breathing does nothing for me, Ikari. What're you waiting for? Fourth Impact?"

His eyes widened and he pointed, as if he wasn't entirely exposed in front of her. "You're getting off on—"

"Finish your sentence and I'm going to take that knife on the counter and—"

He quieted as she trailed off in the middle of her threat. Taking a deep breath, he brought a hand down to hold his erection. At this point in his life, he figured that he would be dead before any sexual situation involving Asuka presented itself. He should be glad to be alive.

Asuka had her chin resting in the palm of her hand, elbow planted on the table. She tried to make herself look uninterested. She should have made him take off his shirt so she could see his nipples this time around. Shinji hardly noticed her perverted eyes trailing down his body as he moved his hand slowly back and forth, curling underneath his shaft, his eyes slipping shut. He had built up a decent rhythm, pushing himself to perform in front of her. It shouldn't have been this easy. He spat in his dominant hand for lubrication before continuing with more zeal.

"Open your eyes," she said once the sound of his breathing in the silence was cutting through her. "Look at me."

Shinji opened his eyes slowly, not fully, but open enough to satisfy her request. She had pushed a strap of her tank top off of her shoulder and pretended not to notice at first. That shift was different from when he had closed his eyes. She was teasing him, he knew; especially when she told him that the lure of her breasts would probably help him come faster. They would, but he couldn't bring himself to look at the swell of her breasts as he moved his hand at a surer pace. He knew what he liked.

It didn't hurt to have a living fantasy right in front of him.

His eyes were locked on Asuka's. The paradox of her eyes, fiery yet ice cold, urged every jerking movement to be stronger, more forceful. Her gaze didn't waver, nor did she look away in embarrassment. For once she wasn't looking through him, but directly at him. The need in her eyes sent a jolt of what felt like electricity through him as his hips jerked on their own accord. She was goading him on with unspoken words. In an altogether familiar motion, he shuddered as he came, a strangled moan coming from deep within him being let loose so openly. It happened faster than it usually took him to get off, but he was pleased that he actually managed to succeed. He could have been shocked that he came so easily under Asuka's watchful eye, but the fact that he made any noise surprised him the most. He didn't notice the smile on Asuka's face until she threw a towel at him to clean up the "pathetic mess" that he had made.

After he had gotten most of the mess out of the way, he pulled his pants back up. He would deal with the laundry later when she wasn't there. Asuka stood, stepping towards him so that he couldn't see anything but her—as if he would look anywhere else now. Her eyes were impossibly close but too far away.

"I forgive you, you know," she said.

"I was asking for forgiveness? By doing that? I can't believe… I can't… how could I possibly do that in front of you and still be alive? What kind of sick… twisted…? I've been through how much shit and that made me think…" He sighed. "This whole situation is so fucked up I don't even know where to begin rationalizing. I just want to know. Why?"

Asuka smiled in a way that showed no threats. His breath caught in his throat. She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth, dragging her teeth lightly across it. Her tongue followed the path of her teeth. She shrugged. "I wanted to see how far you'd go. We'll continue when I think you're ready." She stood, finishing the job of buttoning and buckling his pants for him before turning to exit. "Get moving with dinner."