Paul blinks at Midoriya like he threw a cup of cold water on him, stilling in sync with his halt. Then his kiss-swollen mouth tilts into a bright grin as he laughs, tipping his head back to thud lightly against the door (too late now to salvage their reputation, anyway). He cards his fingers through Midoriya's fine curls and tilts back down to kiss the tip of his nose.

"You're right." He's still smiling as he slides his hand out from underneath Midoriya's shirt and starts to ever so helpfully tuck it back in for him, hand only a little clumsy as he works his way around Midoriya's waist. It's an imperfect job, but it's an excuse to linger close.

"I wasn't thinking. It's a good thing I have you, don't I?" Another kiss, this one to the top of his cheekbone, bringing Paul's lips close to his ear. "We'll clean up after, and go home, and I'll make up it up to you there for making you nervous."

Treacherously, his tongue comes out to trace the curve of Midoriya's earlobe, and he teases mercilessly: "Unless we were quick."