Raju smiles back at him, and the smile stays. He isn't thinking of the fact that soon Francis will be done; he's thinking of the fingers through his hair, the soft solidity of the legs under his shoulders, the wet feeling of the water on his skin, wet and clean on skin that's humming with the touch of a strong, kind man who cares for him. He feels better. More than that, he feels good. Cleaning his hand and cleaning his face and then this, there's something very... Relaxing isn't the word. Reassuring isn't either, but it's closer. There's something about it. Something happened earlier and it'd been terrible, but Francis is here, he hadn't left, and Raju hadn't had to leave. All those things Francis had said about Raju being a good man — he can believe, in this moment, that Francis believes it, even knowing the things that he does. Raju doesn't understand that, but with Francis making his regard so obvious and inescapable, maybe it's alright if Raju doesn't understand just now.

"Sing it for me," he smiles, still watching Francis' blue eyes. His other hand wants to be touching, too, so he moves it to curl around to Francis' leg, grip loose and fond. "I want to hear how it goes."