Francis pretends to be annoyed and bites his neck, and Raju's cheeks curve with his wide, self-satisfied grin. But an instant later the expression's gone; his eyes widen, he pulls in a gasp that's nearly louder than most of the other noises he's made this far. The hand on the back of Francis' hand is clutching tightly enough on its own that he's glad he's kept up with trimming his nails. He doesn't want to hurt Francis even a little, it's just...

The blankets and cloth clutched under his left hand are on fire. A little. A very little. He looks at them for a second, panting, then moves his palm over them and tightens his grip to snuff them out.

"Francis," Raju breathes, looking up at him. "Do that again. Whatever you did."