[And now the redness extends down under his tunic, making his hair look particularly pale, and there's a few more notes of undignified sputtering as Nero leans in to help with his outfit. Those lithe hands so close to his neck make him uncommonly nervous.]

I-I-I, uhhm, I don't know? Y-yet? I, um, p-probably I should- I-I should ask, it- it's only people like us, th-that got summoned here that can go there at all...

[But when Nero goes to pat his shirt, Martin actually catches his hand by the wrist. Partly to his own surprise as well, judging by the quick flick of his eyes down to their hands and back up to Nero's before he quickly releases.]

W-with all due, uh, respect, Nero, u-uhm. You're... not... my type.