Midoriya sighs contentedly at the shifting and settling of the other two even as his face's flush deepens considerably at Kaworu's unadorned use of his name. He will allow Kaworu to dole out or deny Paul however many cheese crackers he pleases. Midoriya, meanwhile, puts away three at once with gusto. He really hopes this hunger will only last the month. It's getting expensive.

In practice, Midoriya's sleep varies, but if left to his own devices, he tends to follow the schedule he had for school. One day, he wonders if Kaworu is going to agree to an early morning activity with him and Paul, and then regret it when he has to wake before the sun rises and unleash angelic smiting on them both.

"Don't get the wrong idea, I don't want to tolerate your self-neglect," he tells Paul while fully forgetting his own hypocrisy. "Nagisa--I mean, Kaworu-kun, you have to help me when I'm not there. Make him sleep–Actually sleep, not just kissing."

He splays his fingers and strokes his thumb against Paul's side. It's not a foreign concept, that someone can look at or touch Midoriya and set his breath and blood in motion, but he's still getting used to the idea that the reverse can be true, if he does it right amidst his blundering. He runs his knuckles across Kaworu's pointed ear, cheekbone, and down to where his sharp jaw meets his neck. He does this very softly because, as ever with anything new in life, Midoriya is shy and polite--until he's not.