Kira doesn't really touch. He bumps into, he accidentally brushes, but Credence knows him well enough to know when he actively touches--when he makes it a point for it to not be an accident--it's pretty damn powerful.

He catches himself smiling, just a little, in spite of himself. Because despite everything--despite the world trying to take both of them down, be it Aurors or a disease that wipes out most of New York City, they have each other.

That's a very, very comforting thought.

He waits until Kira's away, taking care of something that he suspects is just an excuse for Credence's own personal space, and keeps his pants on as he wades in. What follows next is a strangled cry that sounds like a bird either hitting a window or finding a worm. It's difficult to tell.

"Kira! It's so cool!"