Raju watches Francis' hand curling against his shirt. There's something vulnerable in the gesture somehow, with Francis close, relaxed, on the way to sleep and content, and trusting him, and something blooms inside his chest, something that feels too large to fit inside it. Behind Francis, a tiny flame blooms into view and spreads in a familiar line outside the boundary of the blanket and Raju watches it, huffs quietly. There would be more burned marks on the floor than that one, if he stood up and looked.
The fire won't burn either of them. It hasn't come close to Francis since Francis was hurt. So there's no point in mentioning it until the burn marks become obvious, come morning.
"In the water, Francis?" Raju says in a warm, completely ineffective tone for scolding. "That would be a show."
He studies Francis' face, its closed eyes, the relaxation on it, and everything behind the relaxation. He wants to kiss some part of it, and he will. He can. The knowledge that he can is delicious enough; for a moment Raju only holds onto it.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2024-08-04 02:35 am (UTC)The fire won't burn either of them. It hasn't come close to Francis since Francis was hurt. So there's no point in mentioning it until the burn marks become obvious, come morning.
"In the water, Francis?" Raju says in a warm, completely ineffective tone for scolding. "That would be a show."
He studies Francis' face, its closed eyes, the relaxation on it, and everything behind the relaxation. He wants to kiss some part of it, and he will. He can. The knowledge that he can is delicious enough; for a moment Raju only holds onto it.