"You said that before," Raju points out, voice neither patient nor impatient, only stating a fact. "That you're spoiling the moment. But it's like the dancing, Francis; I don't make love to you to a script. There's only me, and only you. That's what I want."

He can't quite help it, the affection, looking at Francis this way: his hand moves to Francis' side and curls, brushing its fingertips very lightly from ribs toward hip and back again. "And I told you, I like your noises. You really should have told me when I said that, that you didn't." Is it a mistake, to put anything lighthearted in when Francis is looking and sounding like he does? Well, it's a useful way to approach the question he needs to ask, with luck a ridiculous enough one with a seemingly obvious enough answer to get Francis actually talking through it. "You don't like making noises for me?"