Raju pushes out a long breath, a pleased noise. He imagines Francis' body taking up the space between Raju's legs and spreads his knees a little, imagines the feeling of a nose against his skin just there, the heat of Francis' breath. He takes a moment to keep imagining it.

"Can't very well do that myself," he murmurs. It's more a comment than a complaint, and he isn't done. "And while you're down there? Would you let me take your hair in my hand? I don't pull."