Raju's smile fades into surprise, looking up at Francis' face again. Then his gaze goes distant, confused and thoughtful, brow furrowing just a little. He sighs, gaze flickering back to Francis' eyes and then to the front of his chest, where he watches himself loosen his grip on Francis' clothes and smooth over a crease there with his thumb. When he blinks his eyelashes still feel wet, an inescapable reminder of that loss of control. His faded smile is more wry now, and more genuine.
"You're flattered? When you make love to someone and get cried on for it? No wonder you don't care for compliments. I think I've been doing them the wrong way this whole time."
“I suppose there’s always room for improvement,” he replies, glad to see that smile loosen up. He has a knack for breaking tension, but sometimes Ram is a tough nut to crack. “But you’d be surprised how often my romantic escapades ended in tears.”
He grins, clearly joking. He doesn’t think he’s made anyone cry - his trysts were never that emotional to begin with.
"No wonder, if this is the way you always do it." He watches his hand smooth its palm over Francis' chest and then keep moving, trying to find a spot where he can feel Francis' heart beating. His wry smile stays over his lips, trying to make a joke of this, but it's easier to watch his hand than Francis' face as he says it:
"Any woman you've kissed would have cried after seeing you that way." Seetha would have cried. Raju would have been able to comfort her. It had always been easy, with her, to act in the ways that he needed to. The ways the she'd needed him to. She would have been sentimental, for him; he would have been strong and steady, for her. "But there are easier ways to get someone into bed, you know. Easier on your ribs, at least."
Any woman - would Sophia have cried? Did she ever weep for him when he was lost, spare a few tears for him in between mourning for her uncle? Did she ever regret…?
Of course he’s thought about it before, briefly, when looking back on that old life. But he never desired to return, never saw anything worth going back for, even when he did think of Sophia. Maybe she did weep for him, but years later he would hopefully just be a footnote for her.
“I’d forgot,” he says, covering Ram’s hand with his own. “You only started finding me attractive when I broke myself. It’s not been a tried and true method; you’re the first I’ve ever seduced with broken ribs.”
He feels for Francis' heartbeat a second longer, then turns his hand and wraps it around Francis'. Sentimental.
It doesn't matter. He's done crying now, at least. Francis doesn't have to comfort him now.
"Mm," he says, glancing up at Francis' face. "I don't recommend trying it a second time. It already worked on me, and the recovery time is hardly worthwhile."
“Oh, no need to beat a dead horse,” he agrees whole-heartedly. “I don’t have to seduce you twice. You’re stuck with me now.”
As though Ram would ever consider leaving now after putting up with him through all of that, not when he’s finally able to pull his weight again. He’s a lucky man that Ram stayed, he knows this, but he also knows this man’s heart. He would have never considered leaving.
“I promise.” He won’t let himself get that hurt ever again, so long as he can help it.
“Come here. I want to hold you.”
All those nights sleeping near each other, and then all that time sleeping in close proximity with the very frustrating inability to touch - all Crozier wants is to have this man in his arms.
“Maybe another trip to the hot springs is in order.”
Raju's smile grows, this time more happiness than anything else. There's a part of him, the part that'd railed against being too sentimental and comforted, that almost tries to rail at this — but he can hold Francis, too, and he's wanted it long enough to drown the rest out. So Raju moves closer, smiling, and drapes his arm over the straight, steady line of Francis' side. His drawers and trousers are uncomfortable now with the stains there drying, and won't be any less so by morning, but it's warm in here, and Francis is finally close, and Raju doesn't want to go anywhere.
"Hm, I thought you were saying how warm it's been. Wanting to warm up?"
There’s no internal struggle for Crozier, although he’ll be embarrassed in the morning that he fell asleep in his own spend like a damn adolescent. He wants him near and will only be content when he feels his body close to his own.
“You’re always so cold, Rama my love,” he mutters, eyes closing as he slips his arm underneath Ram’s head. “…and I want to see you naked.”
Raju breathes out a quiet laugh, settling his head on Francis' arm and moving even closer, curling his arm over Francis' back.
Rama, my love. And laying here finally close enough to feel the heat of him, to see his eyelashes, pale like his hair, against his cheek as Francis closes his eyes. This is what he'd wanted for. This, now. Raju feels something he hadn't known had locked up loosening itself inside him, and his muscles lose tension he hadn't known was there, and he breathes out slowly.
"And give everyone else there a show as well?" he murmurs, relaxing, thumb rubbing back and forth over Francis' stomach. "I'd think you'd have had enough of only getting to look."
"Why not share?" he mutters, starting to unwind. The muscles in his face relax, shoulders slump as his free hand comes to rest in the very small space between them, curling against Rama's outer shirt. He'd probably murder anyone who stared at his Rama in the same way he did, but he's a pretty man and people should stare.
He waits a beat before adding quietly, "I won't only be looking this time."
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.
“We can start in the water,” he mutters, a very small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. It’s brief, and then it fades again, face morphing back into that slackened, tired state. He’s not quite asleep yet though, not quite wanting to fall asleep and leave this comfortable, intimate moment.
“I don’t think anyone could possibly blame me for wanting you.”
"Mm," Raju hums, not disagreeing. He's still watching Francis' face. He hasn't gotten enough yet of looking at Francis this way, eyes closed, relaxed and close. "Let's rest first, hm?" he says and leans forward, touches a featherlight kiss to one closed eyelid, then another. "I haven't slept well in ages," he whispers, a smile in his voice, and settles close enough to feel Francis' breath against his face.
It might be easier for Raju to sleep, normally, after making love this way, but he hasn't been close to Francis in so long. It might be a long while before he sleeps tonigh. When he'd first laid down that idea had seemed like a trial, wondering how many hours he would have to endure here still and awake; it seems like a gift, now.
He agrees with a quiet hum; they should rest and finally take advantage of this blessed moment of closeness. With the feeling of Ram’s lips on his eyes he drifts asleep, grip on Rama’s shirt loosening as his breath evens out and slows.
The next few days are spent making up for all the times he couldn’t help with the more back-breaking chores. He chops firewood and finally goes out foraging, happy to bring Rama with him and learn a bit of what he’s discovered in those books. They have to replenish their stores of herbs and roots and fish, and he takes advantage of the warming weather to spend more of his time outside. But it’ll get cool again soon, he knows this. Summer will be over before they know it, not that this was much of a summer for Ram.
After a long day spent repairing the cabin roof and walls Crozier pauses in front of the fire to stretch out his sore muscles. He’s thinking about the hot springs again, how nice it would feel to soak right about now, but thinking about leaving to walk to the springs would open them up to interacting with the others again. They could run into god-knows-who out there, and God knows —
God knows the separation has been good for them both, even if it’s starting to weigh on Crozier now that he’s actually capable of working again. He prods at the fire, concern lining his face and furrowing his brow, his thoughts drifting to the oncoming winter. They’re going to starve. Resources will start to run out, goods that have been scavenged from locations further afield like Lakeside would be consumed and used, and people will be lost. It was easy to wash his hands of things when he could do little other than lie there, but now…now he feels the guilt bearing down on him again.
Raju turns from washing off his hands, moving closer as he catches sight of Francis' expression. He'd been thinking of washing the sweat away — the cold of taking some of his clothes off to wash isn't quite so bad when he's just been working — but there's not much hurry to do anything in this place, and he wants to know what Francis is thinking about.
"I know I left those repairs a while," Raju says, leaning next to the fire with crossed arms and tilting his head, studying him. "But that's not what's putting that look on your face, is it?"
He pulls his gaze from the spot he’s been prodding at with the metal poker, his eyes just a little bleary from staring a little too long at the flames. He rubs at his temples, one at a time, and then his eyes, wondering how to broach the subject with Rama without setting the forest on fire again.
“House repairs are not putting the scowl on my face, no,” he mutters, getting up to fetch a little melt water to drink. “I’m thinking about the others, Rama.”
Best to just pull the bandage off quickly, as it were.
He waits a beat before clarifying, because he knows the questions are coming, “I’m concerned. I can’t pretend otherwise.”
The urge to rub one of Francis' temples for him fades as Raju's distracted, once Francis begins to explain. Begins, but doesn't finish, waits for Raju instead of going on. Raju frowns, not unhappily but curiously; it seems an odd thing to be thinking about when Raju's at least mostly certain Francis hasn't seen any, or at least many, of them since he's been injured, and even fewer since he's healed. Maybe whatever problem he's worrying about isn't a new one.
"About Hickey? They made their own bed with him already, I think." It's more a reminder than a final judgement. Raju knows himself, and the man he needs to be, and what duties that man can't afford to forget, and he isn't going to completely turn his back no matter whether the others turned theirs first. But it isn't worth worrying over ahead of time; Francis certainly doesn't need to be worrying about it unless the problem is directly in front of him. He's had plenty to worry about already.
“No, not with Hickey,” he explains. The mutineer is like a splinter in one’s toe - annoying and constant, but not the biggest problem a man could have. He’ll undoubtedly kill again, but he can’t wring his hands over that right now or else he’d drive himself mad.
“I worry about summer ending,” he continues, patting some of the water onto the back of his neck. “Despite what some of the others may have thought, no one knows what true desperation is yet.”
But if the animals continue to be driven away, if the thaw never comes, despite their best efforts they’ll all begin to starve.
Raju sighs, gaze going distant as he thinks about it. 'No one' means him too, he knows. Francis and his men speaking of starvation always reminds a part of him of his father, the things his father had made sure that he knew, but starving here would be different from starving at home; here the little food left isn't taken and sold and shipped away, it doesn't grow at all, and what does belongs only to the first person to find and take it. The rest of them had made it very clear that it's every man for himself here. Only for men like Francis is this a land of plenty, though even he can't feed everyone. But if Francis feels some responsibility, still, to try...
Raju sighs.
"You want to start giving them food again." He doesn't sound like he's about to start arguing against it, even if he doesn't sound thrilled by the idea either. "Or is there something else to be worrying about? The cold?"
Got it on the first guess. Crozier nods very softly; yes, he wants to start giving them food again. "I always worry about the cold." But people have shelters and firewood and clothing; there'll be a more pressing need soon.
He shakes his head slightly. "I should teach them how to survive, like I was taught. Being incapacitated as I was..." He'd stopped providing for the people living in Milton, stopping helping with trade and assisting the vulnerable in the community center. But what if he'd died? What if that help had been completely cut off from them?
"People suffered without my assistance. I can't think otherwise."
"I think they made their bed there, too." Raju looks troubled after he says it, distant. He looks at Francis' face, studying it a moment, and then frowns down at the floor again. Here, again, is another revelation about himself beginning to dawn over a horizon Raju hadn't known to look for, and again one he could feel sick about if he thought on it too long. But Francis just there saying those things earnestly makes the comparison impossible to avoid.
"It's easy for you." He asks it like a statement, studying Francis' expression again. "Worrying about all the rest of them. Still."
“It’s not for you,” he replies, inflection lifting like a question.
It isn’t as though he can’t recall the trees going up in flames, the rage that Ram had only just managed to keep from consuming an entire forest. He’d been so disappointed and so enraged by the almost flippant dismissal of their concerns that he’s convinced he would have cut them off completely if it had been a viable option.
They’re two very different men sometimes, even if they both are steadfast in their convictions.
“Still,” he echoes. He understands what that ‘still’ signifies - Rama had to cart his sorry self into town, had to listen to people call him a hypocrite, had to play nice despite knowing Hickey threatened to kill his friend on more than one occasion. ‘Still’ Crozier worries for them, ‘still’, even after they wouldn’t hear reason.
It's not for you? Raju looks down, crossed arms pressing down harder over his chest. It's not, for you?
At home, the people waiting for him at home, caring for them had been easy. Well. It had been hard. But that difficulty had been his world, and pushing himself through all the needs and the duties and the trials of it had always come to him like breathing. Then he thinks of the people living not so far away in the building he'd spent so much time sleeping in, a place full of people sleeping, eating, living next to one another who never spoke. It'd been like the barracks that way, familiar. The barracks had always been that way, not for others, but for him. He thinks of the people living there, and in the town, and in the houses scattered around it. Scattered like the people themselves, their lives sitting loose and separate instead of woven tightly together, any rule — such as it is — decided on based on what was more comfortable, instead of on which of them needed it. Raju thinks, and he compares, and he realises.
It is easy. Only if those people are his. He hadn't thought it of himself, in any moment before this one: it's easy for me, only if.
"No." He's too used to being open, with Francis: he realises only afterward that the word's come out with pain obvious in it.
"No," he murmurs, voice harder now to press the other emotion out. "It's not."
It's not for you? he hears in his mind again, jaw tight, and has to know. "Does that surprise you?"
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"You're flattered? When you make love to someone and get cried on for it? No wonder you don't care for compliments. I think I've been doing them the wrong way this whole time."
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“I suppose there’s always room for improvement,” he replies, glad to see that smile loosen up. He has a knack for breaking tension, but sometimes Ram is a tough nut to crack. “But you’d be surprised how often my romantic escapades ended in tears.”
He grins, clearly joking. He doesn’t think he’s made anyone cry - his trysts were never that emotional to begin with.
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"Any woman you've kissed would have cried after seeing you that way." Seetha would have cried. Raju would have been able to comfort her. It had always been easy, with her, to act in the ways that he needed to. The ways the she'd needed him to. She would have been sentimental, for him; he would have been strong and steady, for her. "But there are easier ways to get someone into bed, you know. Easier on your ribs, at least."
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Any woman - would Sophia have cried? Did she ever weep for him when he was lost, spare a few tears for him in between mourning for her uncle? Did she ever regret…?
Of course he’s thought about it before, briefly, when looking back on that old life. But he never desired to return, never saw anything worth going back for, even when he did think of Sophia. Maybe she did weep for him, but years later he would hopefully just be a footnote for her.
“I’d forgot,” he says, covering Ram’s hand with his own. “You only started finding me attractive when I broke myself. It’s not been a tried and true method; you’re the first I’ve ever seduced with broken ribs.”
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It doesn't matter. He's done crying now, at least. Francis doesn't have to comfort him now.
"Mm," he says, glancing up at Francis' face. "I don't recommend trying it a second time. It already worked on me, and the recovery time is hardly worthwhile."
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“Oh, no need to beat a dead horse,” he agrees whole-heartedly. “I don’t have to seduce you twice. You’re stuck with me now.”
As though Ram would ever consider leaving now after putting up with him through all of that, not when he’s finally able to pull his weight again. He’s a lucky man that Ram stayed, he knows this, but he also knows this man’s heart. He would have never considered leaving.
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“I promise.” He won’t let himself get that hurt ever again, so long as he can help it.
“Come here. I want to hold you.”
All those nights sleeping near each other, and then all that time sleeping in close proximity with the very frustrating inability to touch - all Crozier wants is to have this man in his arms.
“Maybe another trip to the hot springs is in order.”
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"Hm, I thought you were saying how warm it's been. Wanting to warm up?"
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There’s no internal struggle for Crozier, although he’ll be embarrassed in the morning that he fell asleep in his own spend like a damn adolescent. He wants him near and will only be content when he feels his body close to his own.
“You’re always so cold, Rama my love,” he mutters, eyes closing as he slips his arm underneath Ram’s head. “…and I want to see you naked.”
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Rama, my love. And laying here finally close enough to feel the heat of him, to see his eyelashes, pale like his hair, against his cheek as Francis closes his eyes. This is what he'd wanted for. This, now. Raju feels something he hadn't known had locked up loosening itself inside him, and his muscles lose tension he hadn't known was there, and he breathes out slowly.
"And give everyone else there a show as well?" he murmurs, relaxing, thumb rubbing back and forth over Francis' stomach. "I'd think you'd have had enough of only getting to look."
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"Why not share?" he mutters, starting to unwind. The muscles in his face relax, shoulders slump as his free hand comes to rest in the very small space between them, curling against Rama's outer shirt. He'd probably murder anyone who stared at his Rama in the same way he did, but he's a pretty man and people should stare.
He waits a beat before adding quietly, "I won't only be looking this time."
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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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“We can start in the water,” he mutters, a very small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. It’s brief, and then it fades again, face morphing back into that slackened, tired state. He’s not quite asleep yet though, not quite wanting to fall asleep and leave this comfortable, intimate moment.
“I don’t think anyone could possibly blame me for wanting you.”
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It might be easier for Raju to sleep, normally, after making love this way, but he hasn't been close to Francis in so long. It might be a long while before he sleeps tonigh. When he'd first laid down that idea had seemed like a trial, wondering how many hours he would have to endure here still and awake; it seems like a gift, now.
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He agrees with a quiet hum; they should rest and finally take advantage of this blessed moment of closeness. With the feeling of Ram’s lips on his eyes he drifts asleep, grip on Rama’s shirt loosening as his breath evens out and slows.
The next few days are spent making up for all the times he couldn’t help with the more back-breaking chores. He chops firewood and finally goes out foraging, happy to bring Rama with him and learn a bit of what he’s discovered in those books. They have to replenish their stores of herbs and roots and fish, and he takes advantage of the warming weather to spend more of his time outside. But it’ll get cool again soon, he knows this. Summer will be over before they know it, not that this was much of a summer for Ram.
After a long day spent repairing the cabin roof and walls Crozier pauses in front of the fire to stretch out his sore muscles. He’s thinking about the hot springs again, how nice it would feel to soak right about now, but thinking about leaving to walk to the springs would open them up to interacting with the others again. They could run into god-knows-who out there, and God knows —
God knows the separation has been good for them both, even if it’s starting to weigh on Crozier now that he’s actually capable of working again. He prods at the fire, concern lining his face and furrowing his brow, his thoughts drifting to the oncoming winter. They’re going to starve. Resources will start to run out, goods that have been scavenged from locations further afield like Lakeside would be consumed and used, and people will be lost. It was easy to wash his hands of things when he could do little other than lie there, but now…now he feels the guilt bearing down on him again.
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"I know I left those repairs a while," Raju says, leaning next to the fire with crossed arms and tilting his head, studying him. "But that's not what's putting that look on your face, is it?"
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He pulls his gaze from the spot he’s been prodding at with the metal poker, his eyes just a little bleary from staring a little too long at the flames. He rubs at his temples, one at a time, and then his eyes, wondering how to broach the subject with Rama without setting the forest on fire again.
“House repairs are not putting the scowl on my face, no,” he mutters, getting up to fetch a little melt water to drink. “I’m thinking about the others, Rama.”
Best to just pull the bandage off quickly, as it were.
He waits a beat before clarifying, because he knows the questions are coming, “I’m concerned. I can’t pretend otherwise.”
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"About Hickey? They made their own bed with him already, I think." It's more a reminder than a final judgement. Raju knows himself, and the man he needs to be, and what duties that man can't afford to forget, and he isn't going to completely turn his back no matter whether the others turned theirs first. But it isn't worth worrying over ahead of time; Francis certainly doesn't need to be worrying about it unless the problem is directly in front of him. He's had plenty to worry about already.
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“No, not with Hickey,” he explains. The mutineer is like a splinter in one’s toe - annoying and constant, but not the biggest problem a man could have. He’ll undoubtedly kill again, but he can’t wring his hands over that right now or else he’d drive himself mad.
“I worry about summer ending,” he continues, patting some of the water onto the back of his neck. “Despite what some of the others may have thought, no one knows what true desperation is yet.”
But if the animals continue to be driven away, if the thaw never comes, despite their best efforts they’ll all begin to starve.
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Raju sighs.
"You want to start giving them food again." He doesn't sound like he's about to start arguing against it, even if he doesn't sound thrilled by the idea either. "Or is there something else to be worrying about? The cold?"
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Got it on the first guess. Crozier nods very softly; yes, he wants to start giving them food again. "I always worry about the cold." But people have shelters and firewood and clothing; there'll be a more pressing need soon.
He shakes his head slightly. "I should teach them how to survive, like I was taught. Being incapacitated as I was..." He'd stopped providing for the people living in Milton, stopping helping with trade and assisting the vulnerable in the community center. But what if he'd died? What if that help had been completely cut off from them?
"People suffered without my assistance. I can't think otherwise."
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"It's easy for you." He asks it like a statement, studying Francis' expression again. "Worrying about all the rest of them. Still."
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“It’s not for you,” he replies, inflection lifting like a question.
It isn’t as though he can’t recall the trees going up in flames, the rage that Ram had only just managed to keep from consuming an entire forest. He’d been so disappointed and so enraged by the almost flippant dismissal of their concerns that he’s convinced he would have cut them off completely if it had been a viable option.
They’re two very different men sometimes, even if they both are steadfast in their convictions.
“Still,” he echoes. He understands what that ‘still’ signifies - Rama had to cart his sorry self into town, had to listen to people call him a hypocrite, had to play nice despite knowing Hickey threatened to kill his friend on more than one occasion. ‘Still’ Crozier worries for them, ‘still’, even after they wouldn’t hear reason.
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At home, the people waiting for him at home, caring for them had been easy. Well. It had been hard. But that difficulty had been his world, and pushing himself through all the needs and the duties and the trials of it had always come to him like breathing. Then he thinks of the people living not so far away in the building he'd spent so much time sleeping in, a place full of people sleeping, eating, living next to one another who never spoke. It'd been like the barracks that way, familiar. The barracks had always been that way, not for others, but for him. He thinks of the people living there, and in the town, and in the houses scattered around it. Scattered like the people themselves, their lives sitting loose and separate instead of woven tightly together, any rule — such as it is — decided on based on what was more comfortable, instead of on which of them needed it. Raju thinks, and he compares, and he realises.
It is easy. Only if those people are his. He hadn't thought it of himself, in any moment before this one: it's easy for me, only if.
"No." He's too used to being open, with Francis: he realises only afterward that the word's come out with pain obvious in it.
"No," he murmurs, voice harder now to press the other emotion out. "It's not."
It's not for you? he hears in his mind again, jaw tight, and has to know. "Does that surprise you?"
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