Kaworu's statement about Midoriya's protection coincides with Paul suddenly choking a little on his own tacky spit, while and stuff nearly wrests a laugh that would be too nervous and high-pitched to be tolerable out of him, hastily transmuted into a clearing of his throat.
Someone has to take control of this situation before they ruin Midoriya's breakfast plans. Paul straightens his back resolutely, pulling back his shoulders, and plucks the foil packet from Kaworu's toying fingers.
"No. Don't apologize. You're right." He takes a bracing breath, firming up his grip on the eggplant. "It's best to be prepared for any eventuality. Pragmatics come first."
He said he knew how to use one of these. He might as well prove it.
"So," he says, briskly, "The first thing is to open the packet."
It's easily torn, a corner anchored between his teeth, and Paul slips the lubricated disk out between finger and thumb. He holds it up for Kaworu's edification, rotating it one way and then the other.
"You want to be sure it's oriented correctly, with the collecting tip protruding in the same direction as your - eggplant -" he's committing to this, apparently "- and you hold the tip between your fingers to prevent an air bubble as you unroll down the body, like so."
He's never been so grateful for having long fingers in his life. They allow him to sheath the bulbous tip of the eggplant in the prophylactic with his three free fingers while still securing the tip between index and thumb, without facing the horrible prospect of bracing it somewhere, or asking one of them to assist. Once started, he releases the end and glides the rest of the slippery thing down the vegetable easily enough.
"This is a fluid barrier," he explains, "It's meant to contain the-" he realizes, helplessly, what he's going to say next "-juices. Of your eggplant. Is that correct, Midoriya-kun?"
cw: sex ed, condom demonstration on produce
Someone has to take control of this situation before they ruin Midoriya's breakfast plans. Paul straightens his back resolutely, pulling back his shoulders, and plucks the foil packet from Kaworu's toying fingers.
"No. Don't apologize. You're right." He takes a bracing breath, firming up his grip on the eggplant. "It's best to be prepared for any eventuality. Pragmatics come first."
He said he knew how to use one of these. He might as well prove it.
"So," he says, briskly, "The first thing is to open the packet."
It's easily torn, a corner anchored between his teeth, and Paul slips the lubricated disk out between finger and thumb. He holds it up for Kaworu's edification, rotating it one way and then the other.
"You want to be sure it's oriented correctly, with the collecting tip protruding in the same direction as your - eggplant -" he's committing to this, apparently "- and you hold the tip between your fingers to prevent an air bubble as you unroll down the body, like so."
He's never been so grateful for having long fingers in his life. They allow him to sheath the bulbous tip of the eggplant in the prophylactic with his three free fingers while still securing the tip between index and thumb, without facing the horrible prospect of bracing it somewhere, or asking one of them to assist. Once started, he releases the end and glides the rest of the slippery thing down the vegetable easily enough.
"This is a fluid barrier," he explains, "It's meant to contain the-" he realizes, helplessly, what he's going to say next "-juices. Of your eggplant. Is that correct, Midoriya-kun?"
He's never making eye contact again. With anyone.