Midoriya's dismay cuts through the balmy haze of Paul's thoughtlessness. He glances down at the blanket still covering most of them, all of their clothing more or less where it should be, except for the bared patch of skin on Kaworu's back.

That's easily corrected. Paul slips his hand free of Kaworu's shirt so he can tug the blanket higher, propping himself up on his other elbow as he does.

"Not so loud," Paul murmurs, settling his hand on Kaworu's side, "Unless you want everyone else to see your eggplant."

Paul had thought Midoriya was joking about the fruits and vegetables. Apparently not, but he won't judge. There are much odder and equally harmless proclivities out there in the universe.

"Come in and close the door," he amends, coaxing, pitched gently in the hopes of reassurance.