The domestic ritual of getting ready in the morning is something Paul rarely shares with Kaworu. Besides a few rare cases of oversleeping, he's awake before the other boy, out of bed as the first pale rays of sunlight brighten the horizon.

He's definitely being sentimental, to find brushing the sour film from his teeth next to someone else endearing. He leans back against Kaworu to provide steady support, bumping him with his hip whenever it seems like he really might be drifting back towards dreamless sleep, and watches him cross back and forth to check on Midoriya with more of the soft fondness that's coloring so many of his actions today.

Showering should be the next step, once their mouths are as pure as they're ever going to be, but now that he's standing up that seems like more effort than he's ready to expend before breakfast. He starts to shuck his shirt, intending to at least pat down his torso, but - maybe not with Kaworu and Midoriya so close, after all of that. There have been worse things at the breakfast table than a sweaty body, he decides.

"Just don't feed them to Shinji-kun," he says, emerges from the bathroom with his face still damp from the splash of cold water he settled for, "He has a sensitive stomach. Shall we?"

Go to breakfast, and possibly, as his compensation for making life so difficult, assist with whatever is left to do.