Francis kisses fiercely, very hungry for a man who'd just been boneless and breathless in the aftermath of what they've done together. Raju's happy for it — would have been happy to stay that way for five minutes, or half an hour, or the rest of the night if Francis had wanted it, and he's happy for this too, to feel the lips and the passion of the man who loves him, who's happy to love him, somehow.
At the pressure of Francis' hand a noise makes it out of Raju's mouth and sounds like a plea when it escapes, half into the open air and half into Francis' mouth when Raju turns his head, chasing that kiss at the side of his mouth and wanting Francis' lips squarely on his. As he kisses Francis, as he feels the pressure over him, he squirms, and turns his head to breathe out hard against Francis' cheek, and shifts his weight, hand on Francis' hip moving to press against the chair behind him and his other hand moving down. He shifts himself more to one side to reach his trousers better, ignoring the stiffness of an arm held in one place for too long to flick open the first layer of his trousers. His fingers feel in danger of being clumsy but they aren't, they're moving quick and sure and one layer is open, and he starts work on the next.
I'll keep you warm. Raju shivers, and he doesn't know why. "You do," he breathes out hard, pressing his forehead against Francis' temple. The second layer is halfway done, and in a couple seconds it'll be open, too. Then his drawers underneath, but those will be easy to bypass, in one way or another. Francis will figure it out. Raju trusts him to. "You do keep me warm. All the time."
He doesn't know what he's saying. He does know what he's saying. He's saying more than one thing at once. There's the fire Francis has lit inside him now, and then there's the literal, and the metaphorical: the cold is awful here, and it's awful all the time, and Francis doesn't need it kept away, not in the way that Raju does, but he always tries. He tries for Raju.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2024-07-04 01:08 am (UTC)At the pressure of Francis' hand a noise makes it out of Raju's mouth and sounds like a plea when it escapes, half into the open air and half into Francis' mouth when Raju turns his head, chasing that kiss at the side of his mouth and wanting Francis' lips squarely on his. As he kisses Francis, as he feels the pressure over him, he squirms, and turns his head to breathe out hard against Francis' cheek, and shifts his weight, hand on Francis' hip moving to press against the chair behind him and his other hand moving down. He shifts himself more to one side to reach his trousers better, ignoring the stiffness of an arm held in one place for too long to flick open the first layer of his trousers. His fingers feel in danger of being clumsy but they aren't, they're moving quick and sure and one layer is open, and he starts work on the next.
I'll keep you warm. Raju shivers, and he doesn't know why. "You do," he breathes out hard, pressing his forehead against Francis' temple. The second layer is halfway done, and in a couple seconds it'll be open, too. Then his drawers underneath, but those will be easy to bypass, in one way or another. Francis will figure it out. Raju trusts him to. "You do keep me warm. All the time."
He doesn't know what he's saying. He does know what he's saying. He's saying more than one thing at once. There's the fire Francis has lit inside him now, and then there's the literal, and the metaphorical: the cold is awful here, and it's awful all the time, and Francis doesn't need it kept away, not in the way that Raju does, but he always tries. He tries for Raju.