Crozier definitely isn't strong enough to handle being fondled this thoroughly while holding two people upright at the same time, but by god he's going to try, if not for his sake then for Rama's, who deserves a little fun now and again. And he seems to be enjoying himself, as absolutely ridiculous as it is to be standing in the woods half-naked and groping each other.
He lets out a quiet shudder as Ram starts getting more specific with his hands. He's obviously searching for some kind of reaction, some kind of response that would make Crozier's knees buckle. Touching him like that, wandering hand with all that heat from his palm and silky cock against his, is proving to be just as distracting as probably intended.
"Yes," he gasps, hips bucking forward. "Yes, like that. I'm going to drop you if you don't stop."
Raju's laugh is deep and all breath, most of his focus going to the movements of his hands and everything that he's feeling there. "Then you'll have even more to make up for, won't you?" His searching hand finds what it's looking for as he finishes saying it and explores the landscape there with its fingertips. He can only be so careful when he can't see what he's doing, and he wouldn't be in the mood to be careful anyway except that it might get to Francis more thoroughly if he was.
His hand moves down and up again, their cocks sliding sideways against one another in his grip, and Raju shudders, in his chest and shoulders and breath, all shaking for an instant against Francis. The hand around Francis' sack twitches. "How do you feel now, Francis?" he breathes. "Like dropping me?"
The cheek! And worst part is Ram knows exactly what he’s doing, teasing Crozier while he’s got a very firm (though pleasant) grip on his stones. “I feel like fucking you into the ground,” he growls.
In fact, being horizontal seems more practical with each passing second. He freezes his left hand to splay it beside Ram’s head against the tree, hitching Ram up again by the thigh in some ploy to gain some control back. With Ram’s hand on him there’s only so much he can do; he can’t really buck forward or grind into him, and he can’t spare a hand of his own right now, so he’s left with his mouth which eventually finds a spot on his neck to kiss.
The noise Raju makes is as much delight as it is shock. He wonders if fucking him into the ground is a figure of speech, Francis' habit from thinking about women when he feels this way, or if there's something specific that he's thinking of. If Francis proposes it in earnest, Raju would be delighted to find out. But maybe he doesn't have to wait.
"Oh?" He rolls his head to the side to give Francis' mouth room to move, hand over them moving up and turning its wrist and moving down again, hand on Francis' sack moving its fingers in small, idle motions. "Is that so? Why don't you tell me, what exactly do you want to do?"
While he's completely in Raju's hands, while he can't afford to so much as twitch his hips too far. The knowledge of it's in Raju's voice and in his eyes when he rolls his head just far enough back to look at Francis, the self satisfaction and the eagerness and the joy.
He takes advantage of the expanded area of neck available to him and covers it in kisses, biting gently at a spot that would be visible just above his collar and swiping his tongue over the mark. How hard the bite directly correlates to how gentle the touch from Ram’s hands; he knows he has him wrapped around his finger.
He knows vaguely what he wants - an idea, a notion, something talked about but nothing he’s ever experienced or done first hand. But he suddenly wants it very badly, to be buried inside Ram’s body, to be enveloped by him entirely and listen to all the noises he’d make as he fucked him sweetly. He knows himself, he’d be embarrassed to say if this were any other situation, but Rama has him by the stones and he’s looking at him like his very stare could set him ablaze.
“I want to be inside of you,” he says, knowing full-well that it’s Ram who is in charge, it’s Ram who has the final say-so. “I want to have you.”
There's hardly time to experiment with that wonderful tie between the minute changes in the angle of his gripping fingers and the strength of the bites over his neck; Francis' answer is very clear, and in the moments after he gives it Raju devotes his attention to meeting Francis' eyes and everything he sees there. "You do," he says earnestly, and decides: "If we run home. Can you be ready again, by then?"
Because he's going to finish them here first, of course. Then, after that, there's no reason they shouldn't be able to try something else.
His heart threatens to jump out of his chest and up his throat as Ram locks eyes with him. He inhales sharply; what does he make of what he wants? And then Ram makes his decision.
“Yes,” he tells him immediately, no not an ounce of hesitation. By god, he can be ready again for this man. “God, yes.”
Crozier kisses him again, both of his hands grabbing for Ram’s arse as he encourages him to move his hand again.
With a noise of deep satisfaction Raju does move, feeling his thighs tighten as Francis grabs his arse — both hands — and resisting the urge to buck his hips, all the rest of his muscles tightening briefly with the need to keep himself still. His hands need the room to work. His one moves, quickly again, up and over the both of them, around, down again, while his other tickles Francis' sack fondly before moving for his perineum. Francis had mentioned this, hadn't he? Before his ribs had healed, when they'd been...
Raju doesn't have it in him to look back at the memory. Everything is focused on the now, on the way Francis' skin feels against his in his hand, the way it feels under his fingertip as Raju pushes and scrapes carefully, experimentally. His eyes have fixed themselves on Francis', his lips stay parted, panting out warm air, and he is all sensation, all joy, Francis' joy.
As much as he wants to kiss Rama’s smile and feel that obvious delight against his mouth, he has the mental capacity still to recognize when the attempt might throw them both off. Instead he settles for leaning his face against Ram’s, alternating between that or resting his head on his shoulder, groans becoming louder and louder the more Rama persists with his touch.
He can’t recall the conversation that would have led to this, nor anything else for that matter. He’s starting to see stars behind his eyes and feel that familiar tension in his abdomen - building pleasure and building pleasure, pressed against this wonderful, beautiful man who laughs with his eyes and hands and shoulders and kisses him with such unadulterated passion. He groans again, this time as a warning, or about as close as he can manage.
Between the noise and the tension in Francis' body Raju catches his meaning and shifts a little, moves the angle of his hand, and hopefully when Francis finishes the mess will go in some harmless direction. He could make certain if he moved more but he doesn't want to move, he wants to feel Francis' body against his, in his care, the line of Francis' side against his and his hip under the crook of Raju's knee and Francis' head against his shoulder.
"I love... the noises you make," Raju manages, roughly between hard breaths panting out against the side of Francis' face, hands moving. "I'm making you sound that way. Let me hear you."
Crozier can't quite wrap his mind around the fact that Ram seems to enjoy the way he sounds. Seems to enjoy him, seems to like those things that he's never considering worth liking, seems to love those things.
"Christ, but you do love me," he whispers, as though it's only just occurred to him. It's entirely ridiculous and he knows it, and he laughs helplessly into Ram's shoulder, though it quickly turns into a strangled groan. He can't last, he won't, he doesn't want to. His fingers dig hard into the muscles of his arse, spending into Rama's hand with those same noises Rama professes to love so much.
It's the words that tip Rama over, the words and the laughter after them, even more than the fingers digging into his arse — and it is Rama in these moments, with the you do love me whispered next to his ear in that voice — and his usually silent orgasm comes with a laugh, happiness spilling over. He lifts his cheek from Francis' head to see snow melting in a spreading circle from around his feet, smiles, then gives Francis a last fond touch, shuddering at the feeling over his own sensitive skin too, and tucks them back into their trousers, turning his head to kiss at whatever part of Francis' face is nearest.
"You only just realised?" he murmurs after a quiet moment, laughter still in his voice. "I haven't been doing half the job I thought I had."
He can feel the moment Rama starts to tense, but the laugh - god, the laugh is like flint hitting steel, it sparks in his stomach and chest - makes his entire body shake in his arms. All those sculpted muscles on a lean and healthy body quaking in obvious delight, and he’s the one responsible.
He picks his head up as well and kisses him back, because yes, he only just realized, but just this part. Just this little thing, that Ram loves the noises he makes when they’re intimate, is brand new information. Someone loves him for something as little as the noises he makes.
Raju kisses him back a great deal more slowly than he'd have been able to a few minutes ago, fingers sliding up Francis' sides, palms over Francis' stomach and his chest. He pulls back smiling, quiet for another moment while he enjoys the close view of Francis' eyes.
"Come on," he decides happily, hand sliding down Francis' arm for his hand as he steps away, turning, with no regard for the loose, wobbly feeling at his knees. It'll be another challenge, like the way the snow melts under his shoes as he moves over it. He isn't sure if he's run before feeling quite this way. "I said we'd run back, didn't I? Are you as quick on the ground as you are in the air?"
It’s the only time he’s been eager to let go of Ram, and it’s only when he reminds himself of the promise of more. “I don’t think I’m nearly as fast as you,” he laughs, trying to straighten out his clothes and roll up his sleeves. He’s worked up a bit of a sweat.
“But I’m willing to try.”
He grins, noticing the puddles around Rama’s feet and side-stepping one of them to find his mark. All that burning skin, he finally realizes must have a fire burning on the inside instead of the out.
“Ready? Go!”
Despite the wobbly knees he somehow finds it within himself to sprint forward, all that blood resettling elsewhere in his body.
Raju watches him rolling up his sleeves, biting his lip over a smile. When Francis yells go without waiting at all after his ready Raju's smile breaks out into a grin and Raju dashes behind him. It seems like Francis is having an easier time finding his balance than Raju, those wobbly knees giving him more trouble than he'd expected. He feels like he could run faster than the sun, but the happiness let loose by their lovemaking is running lose inside his body, distracting it when he tells it to go. He feels loose all over and if he hadn't spent so long going back and forth through these woods in every moment he could stand to spend outside, he might have fallen on his face at least a couple times by now. He does come close.
He doesn't manage a jump quite high enough and only mostly clears a log, stumbling on the landing. "Have you ever waited a full count before a race?" he calls to Francis, laughing. "Or do you always cheat this way?"
Crozier isn’t as interested as winning this one as he had in their race to climb up and down the tree. He’s also not nearly as fast, and so when Ram stumbles he was only about three or so pages away, close enough that he can turn about and grab the stumbling man by the arm. Mid-hold he changes his mind again and takes him by the hand, running forward again with Ram’s right hand firmly clenched in his left.
Raju lets out a hard, happy breath, only remembering to look away from Francis a moment later, luckily before any of the scenery reminds him he ought to be watching out for it. He's starting to breathe more heavily, his legs are working, he'd be surprised if his skin wasn't flushed darker, from the exertion or from Francis or from simple happiness, or all three. "Then maybe you don't know the rules at all!" he counters, shifting their grip to link their fingers more tightly together. "How do you expect to win if you're taking me with you?"
"I'm winning right now," he laughs breathlessly, yanking him closer. Close enough to accidentally brush his shoulder against Ram's as they continue to hurry down the path together, though it does slow him up some. "I'm with you."
Yes, yes, horribly romantic to the point of being a little sickening, but what does he care right now? He's in love and full of energy and everything feels just a bit brighter in the moment.
Any cooling down his body might have started is undone when he hears it; Raju's smile is fit to split his face, his grip tightens. He hasn't missed the way pulling him close has slowed Francis down and lets himself stumble again, this time toward Francis to bump into him, wanting to tease, slow him down further.
"Then we'll just have to share the prize," Raju says, gaze fixed on him again, now counting completely on Francis and his own peripheral vision to warn him to one side or another for logs or trees or dips in the path. He has more important things to be looking at just now.
Crozier's balance and concentration begins to suffer as Rama smiles, completely and utterly dazzled by him. He laughs quietly as the shoulder-bump causes him to misstep, but he yanks Rama with him as he crookedly walks along the path.
He watches the forest ahead, even though he can feel Ram's eyes on him and is oh-so-tempted to turn and pin him to a tree again, and finally responds with an affectionate squeeze of his hand. "Ah, I think we'd enjoy sharing, don't you?" he laughs, turning quickly to give into the temptation of Rama's face being so close by stealing a peck to the cheek.
"I think I'd enjoy getting inside a lot faster," Raju answers, grinning at Francis for a moment more before looking ahead of them to try and take the lead, speeding up. He'd leaned after Francis at the peck on his cheek, unthinking and helpless not to give in, at least for a moment, to the urge to follow him and move closer. But the faster they get to a place with real privacy the faster he can get just as close as he wants to, and that's worth holding out for.
He thinks he’d enjoy that very much himself. He lets Rama yank him forward and starts to jog again, seeing the path up to their cabin in no time at all. They didn’t get very far in their walk before they’d gotten sidetracked, after all.
It’s Crozier’s turn to start running again, but he doesn’t let go of Ram’s hand. He won’t until they’re inside and he can have his hands all over him, at the very least.
Raju laughs and puts on an extra burst of speed too, the heavy tug of their linked hands making his feet even lighter, and he doesn't bother to close the door before he's pulling Francis by that hand and crashing into him to kiss him, without much regard for how well or badly he's fitting their faces and bodies together.
"Take this damn blanket off me," he rasps as he pulls back, his free hand tugging in an enthusiastic, undirected way at Francis' collar. There must be a cold air blowing in from the open door, but the happiness putting heat off him like a furnace hasn't cooled and he can't feel it. "And everything under it too. It's hot in here."
It occurs to him sharply and suddenly - he might get to see Rama completely bare. It hasn’t happened before, all their encounters have involved some form of clothing, little fits and starts of nudity but never anything close to naked due to the cold. He’s admired Rama in pieces, his stomach or his arm or the feel of his chest and thigh under his hand, but the thought of potentially seeing all at once is absolutely thrilling.
“Christ, yes.”
Crozier isn’t going to worry about his own clothes until Ram’s good and bare. He takes the order to heart, yanking off the blanket and then his other layers, peeling one by one off at record speed with his two hands until Ram is standing chest out in front of him. And god, the wait was worth it. He’s sculpted like a god, perky tits with dark-colored nipples, strong shoulders and lean waist, and — surprisingly very little chest hair.
He’s gorgeous, of course, and Crozier unabashedly stares and touches, allowing just this brief pause before his hands are on the waistband of his trousers.
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Crozier definitely isn't strong enough to handle being fondled this thoroughly while holding two people upright at the same time, but by god he's going to try, if not for his sake then for Rama's, who deserves a little fun now and again. And he seems to be enjoying himself, as absolutely ridiculous as it is to be standing in the woods half-naked and groping each other.
He lets out a quiet shudder as Ram starts getting more specific with his hands. He's obviously searching for some kind of reaction, some kind of response that would make Crozier's knees buckle. Touching him like that, wandering hand with all that heat from his palm and silky cock against his, is proving to be just as distracting as probably intended.
"Yes," he gasps, hips bucking forward. "Yes, like that. I'm going to drop you if you don't stop."
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His hand moves down and up again, their cocks sliding sideways against one another in his grip, and Raju shudders, in his chest and shoulders and breath, all shaking for an instant against Francis. The hand around Francis' sack twitches. "How do you feel now, Francis?" he breathes. "Like dropping me?"
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The cheek! And worst part is Ram knows exactly what he’s doing, teasing Crozier while he’s got a very firm (though pleasant) grip on his stones. “I feel like fucking you into the ground,” he growls.
In fact, being horizontal seems more practical with each passing second. He freezes his left hand to splay it beside Ram’s head against the tree, hitching Ram up again by the thigh in some ploy to gain some control back. With Ram’s hand on him there’s only so much he can do; he can’t really buck forward or grind into him, and he can’t spare a hand of his own right now, so he’s left with his mouth which eventually finds a spot on his neck to kiss.
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"Oh?" He rolls his head to the side to give Francis' mouth room to move, hand over them moving up and turning its wrist and moving down again, hand on Francis' sack moving its fingers in small, idle motions. "Is that so? Why don't you tell me, what exactly do you want to do?"
While he's completely in Raju's hands, while he can't afford to so much as twitch his hips too far. The knowledge of it's in Raju's voice and in his eyes when he rolls his head just far enough back to look at Francis, the self satisfaction and the eagerness and the joy.
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He takes advantage of the expanded area of neck available to him and covers it in kisses, biting gently at a spot that would be visible just above his collar and swiping his tongue over the mark. How hard the bite directly correlates to how gentle the touch from Ram’s hands; he knows he has him wrapped around his finger.
He knows vaguely what he wants - an idea, a notion, something talked about but nothing he’s ever experienced or done first hand. But he suddenly wants it very badly, to be buried inside Ram’s body, to be enveloped by him entirely and listen to all the noises he’d make as he fucked him sweetly. He knows himself, he’d be embarrassed to say if this were any other situation, but Rama has him by the stones and he’s looking at him like his very stare could set him ablaze.
“I want to be inside of you,” he says, knowing full-well that it’s Ram who is in charge, it’s Ram who has the final say-so. “I want to have you.”
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Because he's going to finish them here first, of course. Then, after that, there's no reason they shouldn't be able to try something else.
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His heart threatens to jump out of his chest and up his throat as Ram locks eyes with him. He inhales sharply; what does he make of what he wants? And then Ram makes his decision.
“Yes,” he tells him immediately, no not an ounce of hesitation. By god, he can be ready again for this man. “God, yes.”
Crozier kisses him again, both of his hands grabbing for Ram’s arse as he encourages him to move his hand again.
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Raju doesn't have it in him to look back at the memory. Everything is focused on the now, on the way Francis' skin feels against his in his hand, the way it feels under his fingertip as Raju pushes and scrapes carefully, experimentally. His eyes have fixed themselves on Francis', his lips stay parted, panting out warm air, and he is all sensation, all joy, Francis' joy.
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As much as he wants to kiss Rama’s smile and feel that obvious delight against his mouth, he has the mental capacity still to recognize when the attempt might throw them both off. Instead he settles for leaning his face against Ram’s, alternating between that or resting his head on his shoulder, groans becoming louder and louder the more Rama persists with his touch.
He can’t recall the conversation that would have led to this, nor anything else for that matter. He’s starting to see stars behind his eyes and feel that familiar tension in his abdomen - building pleasure and building pleasure, pressed against this wonderful, beautiful man who laughs with his eyes and hands and shoulders and kisses him with such unadulterated passion. He groans again, this time as a warning, or about as close as he can manage.
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"I love... the noises you make," Raju manages, roughly between hard breaths panting out against the side of Francis' face, hands moving. "I'm making you sound that way. Let me hear you."
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Crozier can't quite wrap his mind around the fact that Ram seems to enjoy the way he sounds. Seems to enjoy him, seems to like those things that he's never considering worth liking, seems to love those things.
"Christ, but you do love me," he whispers, as though it's only just occurred to him. It's entirely ridiculous and he knows it, and he laughs helplessly into Ram's shoulder, though it quickly turns into a strangled groan. He can't last, he won't, he doesn't want to. His fingers dig hard into the muscles of his arse, spending into Rama's hand with those same noises Rama professes to love so much.
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"You only just realised?" he murmurs after a quiet moment, laughter still in his voice. "I haven't been doing half the job I thought I had."
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He can feel the moment Rama starts to tense, but the laugh - god, the laugh is like flint hitting steel, it sparks in his stomach and chest - makes his entire body shake in his arms. All those sculpted muscles on a lean and healthy body quaking in obvious delight, and he’s the one responsible.
He picks his head up as well and kisses him back, because yes, he only just realized, but just this part. Just this little thing, that Ram loves the noises he makes when they’re intimate, is brand new information. Someone loves him for something as little as the noises he makes.
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"Come on," he decides happily, hand sliding down Francis' arm for his hand as he steps away, turning, with no regard for the loose, wobbly feeling at his knees. It'll be another challenge, like the way the snow melts under his shoes as he moves over it. He isn't sure if he's run before feeling quite this way. "I said we'd run back, didn't I? Are you as quick on the ground as you are in the air?"
Heh, nice. Summoning a gay sex demon
It’s the only time he’s been eager to let go of Ram, and it’s only when he reminds himself of the promise of more. “I don’t think I’m nearly as fast as you,” he laughs, trying to straighten out his clothes and roll up his sleeves. He’s worked up a bit of a sweat.
“But I’m willing to try.”
He grins, noticing the puddles around Rama’s feet and side-stepping one of them to find his mark. All that burning skin, he finally realizes must have a fire burning on the inside instead of the out.
“Ready? Go!”
Despite the wobbly knees he somehow finds it within himself to sprint forward, all that blood resettling elsewhere in his body.
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He doesn't manage a jump quite high enough and only mostly clears a log, stumbling on the landing. "Have you ever waited a full count before a race?" he calls to Francis, laughing. "Or do you always cheat this way?"
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“I don’t always race!” he laughs brightly.
Crozier isn’t as interested as winning this one as he had in their race to climb up and down the tree. He’s also not nearly as fast, and so when Ram stumbles he was only about three or so pages away, close enough that he can turn about and grab the stumbling man by the arm. Mid-hold he changes his mind again and takes him by the hand, running forward again with Ram’s right hand firmly clenched in his left.
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"I'm winning right now," he laughs breathlessly, yanking him closer. Close enough to accidentally brush his shoulder against Ram's as they continue to hurry down the path together, though it does slow him up some. "I'm with you."
Yes, yes, horribly romantic to the point of being a little sickening, but what does he care right now? He's in love and full of energy and everything feels just a bit brighter in the moment.
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"Then we'll just have to share the prize," Raju says, gaze fixed on him again, now counting completely on Francis and his own peripheral vision to warn him to one side or another for logs or trees or dips in the path. He has more important things to be looking at just now.
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Crozier's balance and concentration begins to suffer as Rama smiles, completely and utterly dazzled by him. He laughs quietly as the shoulder-bump causes him to misstep, but he yanks Rama with him as he crookedly walks along the path.
He watches the forest ahead, even though he can feel Ram's eyes on him and is oh-so-tempted to turn and pin him to a tree again, and finally responds with an affectionate squeeze of his hand. "Ah, I think we'd enjoy sharing, don't you?" he laughs, turning quickly to give into the temptation of Rama's face being so close by stealing a peck to the cheek.
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He thinks he’d enjoy that very much himself. He lets Rama yank him forward and starts to jog again, seeing the path up to their cabin in no time at all. They didn’t get very far in their walk before they’d gotten sidetracked, after all.
It’s Crozier’s turn to start running again, but he doesn’t let go of Ram’s hand. He won’t until they’re inside and he can have his hands all over him, at the very least.
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"Take this damn blanket off me," he rasps as he pulls back, his free hand tugging in an enthusiastic, undirected way at Francis' collar. There must be a cold air blowing in from the open door, but the happiness putting heat off him like a furnace hasn't cooled and he can't feel it. "And everything under it too. It's hot in here."
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It occurs to him sharply and suddenly - he might get to see Rama completely bare. It hasn’t happened before, all their encounters have involved some form of clothing, little fits and starts of nudity but never anything close to naked due to the cold. He’s admired Rama in pieces, his stomach or his arm or the feel of his chest and thigh under his hand, but the thought of potentially seeing all at once is absolutely thrilling.
“Christ, yes.”
Crozier isn’t going to worry about his own clothes until Ram’s good and bare. He takes the order to heart, yanking off the blanket and then his other layers, peeling one by one off at record speed with his two hands until Ram is standing chest out in front of him. And god, the wait was worth it. He’s sculpted like a god, perky tits with dark-colored nipples, strong shoulders and lean waist, and — surprisingly very little chest hair.
He’s gorgeous, of course, and Crozier unabashedly stares and touches, allowing just this brief pause before his hands are on the waistband of his trousers.
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