That sounds like a challenge, to last as long as he can, and he feels himself rising — well — to meet it, but can't figure out whether the wonderful feeling of Francis' fingertips tracing their terrible path over Raju's skin makes that challenge easier to meet or that much harder. At the touch under his arms Raju takes a sharp breath, arms spreading in a sudden movement and then going still, muscles tense and fingers curling into the blanket. The muscles of his stomach and his thighs and calves clench as Francis brushes over them but at the touch to his thighs his legs twitch too, trying to close against themselves before he lets out a hard breath and opens them wider, pressing his head back against the mattress.

"Francis" he warns, tense and happily. "I'm not going to kick you. But—" But he might. He won't. He might. He wonders if he should warn Francis to be careful again.