"Doki doki," Paul echoes, in equal thoughtfulness, tapping out each syllable on Kaworu's ribs. He has, at least, figured out what crush means, having sought out the definition after his conversation with Anna (who he vaguely thinks might be pleased with how this turned out).

He knows what it means, but not what it's supposed to feel like. He's lying in a bed with someone he kissed, entwined like vines, and as he told Midoriya - he knows things. He isn't unaware of the implications.

But the definitions he read all made it seem like it should hurt, and this doesn't. Everywhere they're touching feels like a balm, the faint vibration of Kaworu's chest as soothing as it ever is. He could drift like this for hours, or at least until Midoriya came back, if he let himself.

"I should get up, then. Take a shower," Paul says, then, with a flutter of hesitant suggestion, "Brush my teeth, in case I surprise you again."