As Francis comes nearer Raju keeps himself still, but watches closely; this odd position of theirs where Francis wants a course of action but doesn’t respect it, or doesn’t respect the parts in him that are driving it, while Raju doesn’t want it exactly but respects it a great deal, make it important to say what he’s said, but whether Francis will accept it isn’t certain yet. If he couldn’t, that wouldn’t be anything to hold against him; responsibility is heavy and the loss of it is even heavier, sitting like lead in Francis’ heart and outweighing anything else.
But Francis opens his mouth and nothing makes it out — it meant something to him, then. Then he hugs Raju suddenly, still silent, arms tight, and Raju’s arms move up around him too, squeezing with gentle, steady pressure while he presses the side of his face against Francis’ head.
He could say something else now, something to comfort, or to drive the message home. But it couldn’t be clearer that the words had hit exactly the place Raju had hoped they would, and no more are necessary just now. Raju rubs Francis’ back instead in slow, long strokes, and lets a hard breath out against Francis’ hair, ready to hold him there as long as Francis needs.
He couldn’t say how long he needs to be held, not knowing he needed this in the first place. But he did need it, the pressure of his hold and the feeling of Rama’s head tucked against his, and slowly he feels every muscle in his body begin to unravel. He leans forward slightly and exhales; Rama’s breath against his hair is comforting in ways that he couldn’t possibly explain.
He holds onto him for a long while. It’s indulgent and not something he would have ever allowed himself, except with this man right here. It helps, it all helps.
“You’ll help me up when I ultimately fall,” he says, and it’s not a question. When disappointment and bitter sadness overwhelms him once more he knows he’ll have Rama there to help steady him.
There’s a sudden fear that he’ll lose him too, but he won’t entertain it. He can’t.
The certainty in his voice, once his voice comes, makes Raju smile against Francis' hair. "I'll sit you in front of a fire," he confirms. He doesn't need to argue that Francis won't need it; they both know he likely will. "A blanket around your shoulders. I'll make your dinner, and read to you if you want it, and sit with you if you don't. I'll wash your hair and your feet until you can stand to do it yourself again. Anything you need. I'll help you up."
Raju presses a kiss to the side of Francis' head, lips half-catching an ear. The solidity of Francis' chest, his sides, his back, all feels wonderful under Raju's arms. It feels wonderful to touch him now, to be allowed to comfort where he'd been standing back before. "You know," he murmurs, "I admire you more for all this. It might be easy to want, but that doesn't make it easy."
Rama lists all the way he’ll care for him, all the ways he has cared for him in the past, those little things that make him feel so loved and cared for, and he feels that last little bit of shame get buried down again. It doesn’t leave him, he doesn’t think that part of him will ever heal, but he can live with himself.
He’s the only one who could express his admiration so openly and for it not to feel insincere. He believes that Rama feels that way; that somehow, impossibly so, he believes Crozier is worthy of admiration. He’s not certain if he can respond - and what to say? Thank him? Tell him that he hopes beyond measure that he won’t completely disappoint him? No, but he can return the sentiment, and turns his head to press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth.
He likes the life they’re beginning to find here. “Perhaps it won’t feel so terrible to fail for a change,” he finally says, having pulled back just enough to speak to him again.
Raju keeps his arms and hands on him as Francis leans back, Francis' body close beneath his arms, and Raju studies him. He studies the words, the scope of them and how they feel in his chest and his throat and the pit of his stomach. Francis, for one reason or another, has always been the reason Raju ever tries to examine these things. He's the only reason the idea ever seems a little less hopeless, when Raju does.
"Maybe it won't," he rasps quietly and smiles, the expression small at first but growing over Raju's face.
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But Francis opens his mouth and nothing makes it out — it meant something to him, then. Then he hugs Raju suddenly, still silent, arms tight, and Raju’s arms move up around him too, squeezing with gentle, steady pressure while he presses the side of his face against Francis’ head.
He could say something else now, something to comfort, or to drive the message home. But it couldn’t be clearer that the words had hit exactly the place Raju had hoped they would, and no more are necessary just now. Raju rubs Francis’ back instead in slow, long strokes, and lets a hard breath out against Francis’ hair, ready to hold him there as long as Francis needs.
no subject
He couldn’t say how long he needs to be held, not knowing he needed this in the first place. But he did need it, the pressure of his hold and the feeling of Rama’s head tucked against his, and slowly he feels every muscle in his body begin to unravel. He leans forward slightly and exhales; Rama’s breath against his hair is comforting in ways that he couldn’t possibly explain.
He holds onto him for a long while. It’s indulgent and not something he would have ever allowed himself, except with this man right here. It helps, it all helps.
“You’ll help me up when I ultimately fall,” he says, and it’s not a question. When disappointment and bitter sadness overwhelms him once more he knows he’ll have Rama there to help steady him.
There’s a sudden fear that he’ll lose him too, but he won’t entertain it. He can’t.
no subject
Raju presses a kiss to the side of Francis' head, lips half-catching an ear. The solidity of Francis' chest, his sides, his back, all feels wonderful under Raju's arms. It feels wonderful to touch him now, to be allowed to comfort where he'd been standing back before. "You know," he murmurs, "I admire you more for all this. It might be easy to want, but that doesn't make it easy."
no subject
Rama lists all the way he’ll care for him, all the ways he has cared for him in the past, those little things that make him feel so loved and cared for, and he feels that last little bit of shame get buried down again. It doesn’t leave him, he doesn’t think that part of him will ever heal, but he can live with himself.
He’s the only one who could express his admiration so openly and for it not to feel insincere. He believes that Rama feels that way; that somehow, impossibly so, he believes Crozier is worthy of admiration. He’s not certain if he can respond - and what to say? Thank him? Tell him that he hopes beyond measure that he won’t completely disappoint him? No, but he can return the sentiment, and turns his head to press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth.
He likes the life they’re beginning to find here. “Perhaps it won’t feel so terrible to fail for a change,” he finally says, having pulled back just enough to speak to him again.
no subject
"Maybe it won't," he rasps quietly and smiles, the expression small at first but growing over Raju's face.