Kaworu will take as much as he can hold and more. He'll grasp, even if it breaks all of his fingers in the attempt. It's much better than being alone, he thinks.

As for now, he grins at the sound he's able to draw out of Paul. It's so desperate. He can feel the weight of Paul's longing, yearning, and he wants to grasp it, wrestle it, make it his. But instead, he's trapped between two bodies and it settles him in a strange way. The yearning is still there but contentment is starting to flow in like the tide.

When Midoriya makes a noise, Kaworu tries to shift a little, aware of the sharpness of his hip bones, though unaware of the injury. It's an unconscious bit of consideration, of kindness, that he would have unlikely been capable of even a few months ago.

He arches softly with a sigh as soft as the window as Midoriya presses soft lips against the tender skin there. Midoriya hands and lips are more delicate than Kaworu would have expected, not that he expected Midoriya to be rough, but his hands had always been firm. He didn't know he was capable of such a light touch.

"It's warm," he mumbles. Of course it is, being at the center of two bodies, but that's not what he means. It's just... warm, inside and outside. An unfamiliar, but welcome, feeling of safety.