Francis sitting down is worse. How didn't he expect it to be worse? It's in the spread legs, of course, but there's something commanding about it, Francis sitting there that way, in spite of him having not a single piece of clothing on. Or maybe because of that. For a moment Raju only watches him, eyes wider. He takes a couple harsh, controlled breaths in through his nose, and his hand tightens over his thigh.

He smiles a second after, pleased with what's just occurred to him. He pulls one side of his trousers a little further down, and then the other side, and his fingertip finds the inside of a thigh and starts slowly moving down. He takes a sharp breath in, a part of him grateful when the path of his finger is stopped by the bunch of fabric high over his legs. "Where? Here? Higher, or lower?"