Raju makes a long, low noise in agreement and rolls his hips again, laughing a breathless, helpless laugh at the feeling. Francis doesn't want to wait. Raju doesn't, either. He won't risk Francis' health, but like this Francis can lean back, only lean forward when he wants to. It's better. They can make it work.

"Then let's keep going," he rasps, still breathless. His free hand presses against the chair behind Francis' head, taking some of the strain off his arm and his stomach to hold himself at just the right distance. It leaves him with no hands to touch with but he still has his mouth and ducks his head, takes his teeth very, very gently to the skin of Francis' neck before pressing a lingering closemouthed kiss to it. Raju remembers cleaning this spot before. It still smells like soap, it feels soft and clean and alive. "Just like this. I'll find you new trousers after. Nice ones, if you grab my arse that way again."