Rama. There it is. The man he loves in ways both like and entirely unlike he ever thought he’d love a man, the man who’s his to care for and protect, says it again. And Raju hears the sound of his name again. Rama. So that’s what it sounds like in Francis’ accent. It sounds like being home, and like being some place entirely new.
You’re so beautiful, my Rama, the beautiful voice says, and Raju’s breath out sounds almost pained, and he realises he’s panting. “Francis,” he breathes, helplessly. He doesn’t know what to say that could give back what Francis has given him just now.
“My Francis,” he rasps through his tight throat, trying anyway. It’s hard to look into those eyes just now, he doesn’t know why, but he does it anyway. Looking makes his eyes sting and grow hot, and once he’s doing it he doesn’t want to look away.
His hand twitches over the soft skin just between Francis’ hip and thigh. There’s something, at least, that he could do. It isn’t enough, but he wants to do it. “Can I touch you?”
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2024-07-01 10:13 pm (UTC)You’re so beautiful, my Rama, the beautiful voice says, and Raju’s breath out sounds almost pained, and he realises he’s panting. “Francis,” he breathes, helplessly. He doesn’t know what to say that could give back what Francis has given him just now.
“My Francis,” he rasps through his tight throat, trying anyway. It’s hard to look into those eyes just now, he doesn’t know why, but he does it anyway. Looking makes his eyes sting and grow hot, and once he’s doing it he doesn’t want to look away.
His hand twitches over the soft skin just between Francis’ hip and thigh. There’s something, at least, that he could do. It isn’t enough, but he wants to do it. “Can I touch you?”