Raju laughs, warm, too warm for the layers he's wearing and savouring the combination of cold air and soft, warm skin touching his. "You call that making it up to me?" he teases, the hand that'd helped Francis bare them to each other moving to wrap itself around one or the other or both of them. There's something about doing this for Francis, and something about being done for by Francis, and there's time enough to do both. Right now he's too happy and eager for more, too impatient to wait for Francis to give them more of that friction himself. "Biting me that way? I can bite too, you know."