Raju sucks in a surprised breath through his nose at the sudden pressure, the hand in his hair, and then an approving noise comes from some place deep back in his throat and he presses forward too, his own hand in Francis' hair tightening. It's an odd thing, the feeling; no one's really touched his hair for a very long time. No one before Francis. He'd washed it first, a long time ago, gently. And this now. It hadn't really occurred to Raju that someone else might grab his too, that his might be the hair in someone's hand while lips press hungrily against his, and it only seems right that he let Francis know the way he feels about it so he makes another noise, a hungry one, into Francis' mouth. There's something to it, kissing this way with Raju's grip still on Francis' chin, ready to loosen if Francis tries to draw away but firm, holding him here. Raju pauses the kiss long enough to bite at Francis' upper lip, laughing quietly as he lets his teeth slip off it and goes back to kissing Francis again.