Wrinkling his nose slightly at the ruffling and leaning into it anyways, Declan shrugged it off. He was always thinking about Aoba. Him being naked just made him think very specifically about things. Looking around the room again and having an intense urge to clean, the Titan eventually shook it off and reached for the blankets instead, tugging them up to cover both of them as he maneuvered around to curl against Aoba once more, same as he'd been before it all started.

"...Did...Did I do alright, though?" he asked, low voice hardly above a whisper, asking the question he didn't want to. He didn't need the affirmation of his skill for his own ego; he needed it to salvage something, to know that even if the timing was poor and the execution was misguided, the act itself was satisfactory. If he couldn't please Aoba, what was the point in all of it?