The ripple of Paul's laughter presses against both of the boys he's nestled against, and as the laughter transmutes to the ease of leaning back into Midoriya's bracing arm under Kaworu's horrendous (gentle) attack.

"You should be," Paul cautions, leaning into Midoriya as he watches the faun-boy offer another cheese square to their angel, "You haven't seen how he is when he doesn't want to wake up. Ruthless. Unappeasable. Discontent."

This may qualify as a type of slander. Kaworu may occasionally be unhappy about waking up, but he is never that difficult. Paul tilts his head to rest on Midoriya's shoulder, laden down with the burden of knowledge that comes with cataloging Kaworu's many potential impulses. (That a significant amount of them end up matching Paul's own is, of course, not the point.)