He huffs a laugh through his nose. So much for subtlety.
“I don’t abuse what doesn’t belong to me, you can trust in that.” Ram having to hide it whilst living in the barracks tells him all that he needs about the lengths he’s had to go through to preserve his possessions. He thinks about his days still sleeping with the crew in the converted mess - he would sleep with his things secreted underneath his pillow.
“I do,” he tells him, grabbing the ratty broom they’d scrounged from another abandoned cabin. He sweeps with the handle carefully anchored against his wrist, a slow but well-practiced process. “I enjoy doing things for myself. Always have. But things are just expected of you when you grow in the ranks.”
"Hm." Raju sets the brush down to dry, leaning shoulder and hip against the wall, arms crossed, and taking a moment just to watch him. Watch his body. Watch how hard he's worked to manoeuvrer so easily with the one hand. Watch the bare face, which is probably going to be strange — wonderful, but strange — for a while yet. "I never thought about that before. But then the officers back home always seemed to enjoy it, sending others scurrying around to do their work for them. It would have been too strange, wouldn't it? If you'd asked to shave yourself, or... dress yourself, or whatever else."
When Francis had talked about the way he used to be, he'd said he'd been... jealous, hadn't it been? Resentful? That means ambition too, so: "Especially if you wanted a higher rank some day," he guesses. "It wouldn't do to remind anyone where you came from."
“I must admit there is a certain amount of pleasure to be had when someone follows your command, especially when you’re used to being the one following said orders. But having someone shave and dress you…that’s a different level of command, isn’t it? Less officer and more member of the leisure class.”
But it would have been odd to turn away the services of a steward. It was a must for officers. “I suppose one can get used to anything, and having as good a steward as Jopson, who was more a spy who also served tea than anything else.”
Raju huffs an amused noise, grinning. "Odd to think about you that way," he says, pushing off the wall and moving to put the rest of the things away, most everything back inside the grooming kit and that set aside, the water and the pine-needle water both back in their places. "Using subterfuge like anyone else. That was my uncle's work at home. He kept you up on the mood of your men? What they were thinking?"
“I used to tell him he could be a newspaperman. He always knew the goings-on of both ship - Antarctica and that last expedition.” He was a valuable asset, and not just because he was the only one Crozier felt like he could actually trust for a while there.
Thinking about Jopson always tugs at the center of his brain responsible for guilt. “A captain of his ship is traditionally responsible for choosing his crew. The Admiralty gave this duty solely to Sir John; he picked my entire crew, from cook to officers. But I was allowed to choose my steward, and naturally I brought the young man who had accompanied me to Antarctica.”
Raju nods as he picks up the bench, moving it out of the way. His thoughts, even after so long in this impossible place, move more easily into explicable patterns: Francis' steward was there, alive, and is here, alive, and what had happened — what Francis insists had happened, what William says happened to him, what Raju has no option but to trust — between the two points is easy for his mind to skirt the edges of like walking around a puddle, without quite stepping in the middle unless something else should draw his foot there.
"Instead of one of the others you'd sailed with before?" he asks, moving over to the chair Francis had been sitting in to move that as well. "He must have made an impression that first time."
That Thomas Jopson certainly did. He was terrified during the fire on Terror, then when they'd crashed into Erebus on that horrible night, but he stayed standing and alert and always by his side. He was a good man, brave and kind, and Crozier knew he only wanted him as his steward from then on out.
"He did. He was on the Racer chasing slavers in the Caribbean before he went to Antarctica. I've never met a kinder soul."
Impossible here, at least, not to see the context: the contrast between Francis' regard for this man and the distance he's said he's put between himself and all his men. The ones still living, here. But saying anything about it for no purpose wouldn't be kind, at least not directly. In lieu of that he moves closer, smiling at Francis and running a fond hand over his hair. "He sounds like a good officer. A good man. How has he been doing here? This place is quite a change of pace from hunting slave ships."
He huffs softly at the little hair ruffle. “It’s quite a change from the rocks of King William Island,” he says, going back to his sweeping. The dust and hair need to finish their journey of getting swept out the front door.
“I don’t know how he’s been. He didn’t look well at the town hall.”
It’s a hard thing to admit. Jopson had been glued to his side, and then one day decided he needed to not see Crozier for a while. It has hurt, but he understood. Jopson doesn’t need to be mired in the past if he can help it.
And that town hall was a while ago — long enough for Francis to be up and sweeping across the room, to be doing it without the slow, pained effort any of those movements would have needed from him before. Raju watches him for a moment, unsure. At home, he'd always expected that he would be involved in the lives of the people at home again, someday, as soon as he was done. But Francis doesn't have that.
"If we start going into town more often, one of us might see him," he offers. It isn't something he's inclined to do for its own sake; it's odd to not be committed to one approach or the other, when every decision in his life up to this place was a calculation, how close this took him to his goal and how far that would move him away. But he's committed to Francis, at least, and he's no stranger to spending time around people he doesn't care for. If doing it might help Francis worry less, then Raju wouldn't mind. "I can keep an eye out for you."
It’s a testament to Ram’s affection for him that he would even offer. He finishes his task and sets the broom aside, crossing the room to set his arm on Rama’s shoulder and then the back of his neck.
“Thank you, but he’s in Lakeside now. If he comes back to Milton…”
He shakes his head softly. “Ah, I don’t know, Rama. I suppose it couldn’t hurt to at least look out.”
Since Francis is so close Raju puts an arm around his back, feeling the sweater under his hand, touch gentle against the chest underneath it. "Then we will," he says, confident, encouraging. He keeps looking at him a moment, then kisses Francis' cheek, because it's right there and he wants to know how it feels now under his lips. Smooth, of course, and warm. He feels the pull to kiss Francis again on those shapely lips this time and resists it, gaze darting over his face, smile crinkling at the corners of his eyes.
The easy affection is novel, but not unwanted. If he’s lucky enough to continue being on the receiving side he just may get used to it, and wouldn’t that be a lovely little life? He smiles and caresses the curve of his neck, happy to just share in this moment with him without wanting for more.
The healing continues as Crozier refuses to jeopardize his health again, even if not touching Rama is so frustrating it’s almost insidious. He can stare all he wants, flirt all he wants, moon and long and admire, but he cannot touch and it’s driving him to distraction. But the happy day comes when Svetlana visits and gives him that final check - his breathing will never be the same, but he’s as fully healed as he’ll ever be. No long fragile or frail, able to walk and work and forage and all the things he’s been itching to do since the fight with Hickey.
He and Ram eat their dinner together and talk about the day, as they usually do, Crozier keeping that one vital detail to himself as they enjoy the fish pie Svetlana delivered earlier that day. They clean up and build the fire and lay the furs for their bed, Crozier doing a little light reading before he dims the lanterns and secures the doors and windows. He crawls into the furs and lays on the side he’s typically occupied, still holding onto his news.
Raju slips into the side opposite, not thinking of anything in particular. There's the usual awareness of Francis, awareness of the distance. There's the usual brief comparison of before, when he'd slept roughly this far away from him without ever considering sleeping closer, to now, when considering it is the only thing that he can do. He thinks of the first night they'd slept next to one another, as close as Raju wants to be, when he hadn't been able to consider anything then but the desperate animal comfort of it.
He doesn't mind not being able to touch the way he wants, not exactly. Or, he doesn't mind minding it. Usually. But the nights are harder. In Delhi there'd been plenty of work to do, and if he only tried hard enough to find it, and did it for long enough, he hadn't needed help falling asleep. Raju sighs, turning onto his side, arm draped over his chest. It's usually at least a little easier if he can look at him. Francis loves him, and wants to be with him— and he's just there, so really, Raju is lucky.
He likes to look at Ram as he’s falling asleep as well, his soft expression and comforting presence enough to usually soothe away the worries of the days. He indulges in this for a moment, looking at Rama in the glow from the fireplace and watching the shadows dance over his skin, before he begins to inch closer.
“Svetlana gave me more than the pie,” he tells him cryptically.
Confusion creases Raju's face. It's an odd time to mention it; they'd talked about the visit earlier, when Francis had explained the food. Unless there was something Francis hadn't wanted to say then, that's easier to say in the dark. Raju props himself up on his elbow, confusion focusing and turning into concern.
"Bad news?" Maybe the pie had been less a gift and more a consolation. Raju tries to catch some kind of clue from Francis' manner. He doesn't seem concerned, at least not yet. Would he? He tries to think whether Francis has ever delivered him bad news on purpose before; Raju doesn't know how he would do it.
Realisation moves just slightly faster than the smile breaking over Raju's face. His gaze moves down, darting here and there over Francis' body and then moving up to his face again, the shock of Francis' news as hot inside him suddenly as the weight of Francis' arm over his waist. He sets a hand on Francis' jaw, hardly lets it brush Francis' skin as it moves over his neck, pausing at the collar. "Completely?"
He takes a moment, enjoying the pressure in his chest and the heat licking at his insides underneath it. "You knew this all day," he goes on, grinning a little too much to quite manage making it an accusation. "And you waited untill now to tell me?"
Crozier starts to laugh, quietly at first, then more loudly as his amusement at himself and Ram’s mild protest builds. It helps too that he can belly laugh now and it doesn’t hurt, nothing hurts, everything feels as it shoulder.
“I did, I’m sorry,” he says through chuckles. He wanted to surprise him, which he thinks he accomplished very nicely. “I wanted to surprise you.”
He slides his arm onto the furs behind Ram, moving forward and pushing him carefully onto his back. He wants to pin him down and kiss him just like he’d been craving all this time.
Francis pushes him onto his back and Raju's smile, the warmth on his face from watching Francis laugh, doesn't exactly disappear but it does fade, surprise and wide-eyed anticipation taking centre stage. He's looking up at Francis in a way he hasn't looked up at any man. The rhythm of things had fallen naturally into place the last two — first two — times that they'd slept together, but with Francis' body whole more possibilities are open to them now, and many of the ones which involve Raju on his back are ones he hadn't considered before this very moment, feeling the floor and blanket beneath his shoulders and looking up at the man who loves him with the same passion with which any man has ever loved his wife.
Here's the more familiar impulse to roll until Francis is beneath him instead. But a man who's had to restrain himself so long as Francis has deserves a little free reign, doesn't he? Certainly one does who Raju trusts this way. Besides, Raju wants to know what Francis is going to do from here. And which part of it is making Raju's heart beat so hard.
His hand hasn't left Francis' collar; two fingers are hooked into it now, pulling it a little away from Raju's chest. His other hand flattens itself against the blanket and pushes, pushing Raju just far enough up to crane his neck and press their lips together.
Crozier surges forward to meet the kiss, groaning softly in the back of his throat as his nose brushes against Ram’s cheek. If it weren’t for those big, expressive eyes of his, wide in surprise and glittering in the low light, he might have found a little more restraint — might being the operative word, he knows his weaknesses, and having this very beautiful man finally pressed against him is more than even his self-restraint can handle.
As he presses down he can feel the thrum of Ram’s heart - or is that is own - and he deepens the kiss to devour him. He’s been more passive than he’s ever had to be, which surprisingly had its merits, but he wants Rama in the ways he’d imagined, all the ways he’s dreamed of adoring him. His hand on the fur slides down until it comes across Rams, and he links their fingers together as he pins it down.
He's pressed back as Francis surges into the kiss and Raju can feel the weight of him unfamiliar and solid, trapping Raju securely exactly where he is. He can feel Francis' heart beating hard too, that's how close they are. How close they finally are. Francis' fingers link with his and then they press down, even more that's keeping him in place, and Raju lets out a laugh against Francis' lips that he'd expected to sound amused but comes out sounding giddy instead, excited and unsteady. Being held down this way is something Raju's only expected to feel in a fight, something to push against and win— but he doesn't have to win, here. Here the force holding him in place is Francis, who stays with him even when he shouldn't, who'd washed his hair and his hands and tended to his feet before they'd made their commitments to one another at all, at least out loud. Francis who's steadfast and intelligent and kind. If there's anyone with whom he can stop pushing trust to lead him it's this man and the thought is... well, it's a relief, an enormous relief but it's something else too, something washing through all his limbs at once.
Still. There's no reason to make things too easy on him.
The hand Raju's got on Francis' collar starts to creep up toward the back of Francis' neck, elbow out and the bend of his arm open enough that an arm on its own could slip itself through and push Raju's down to the blanket without any hand involved at all. Not making it too easy, but not making it too hard.
"And the other hand?" he grins against Francis' lips, hand continuing its slow journey toward holding Francis down somewhere. "What are you going to do about that?"
Crozier bites at the grin, pulling back with an audible little smack as he sucks Ram’s lower lip red. “The cheek,” he says, very quickly following the silent lead and pushing his handless arm through to pin that other hand down to the floor.
He can’t imagine Rama’s ever let someone do this to him, but he can’t allow himself to think about it because ultimately his thoughts would drift to his fiancé. She doesn’t need to be in this bed with them tonight, not when he finally has Ram in a place to kiss and touch and hold as he pleases. He thinks of their first kiss and then before that, those moments of gentle, supportive, friendly touches between them, how he would crave more without even realizing it was what he wanted.
Crozier pushes his weight down onto Ram’s arms and kisses him again, leg sliding over his in a slow conquest of him. He wouldn’t be successful at all if Ram didn’t allow for it, if he didn’t also want this just as badly.
Francis' body is all on him now, and his arms are pinning Raju's arms, and his fingers are interlocked with Raju's fingers. He can feel Francis' chest against his, and his stomach against his, and his leg sliding up, and up. He feels covered, held, with Francis in a way he never has before. That reaching need to touch inside him that never quite goes quiet is muffled behind the weight. His chest heaves, pressing firmly against Francis' with each hard indrawn breath. His fingers curl tighter against Francis' and his arm twitches, pressing just a little against Francis' arm, and then just a little bit again. Just enough not to push it anywhere. But when he presses down against the floor it's with force, enough to push his lips more firmly into Francis', to push his body more firmly against Francis' weight. The leg that lifts and tries to curl around Francis' leg, or around the back of his knee, or anything that it can bend to reach is automatic, a half-formed impulse from the part of him that still thinks this is a fight coming out unformed and clumsy, or a need to be even closer however he can, or maybe it's both of those things. He doesn't know, he isn't thinking about it. He's too busy feeling.
It’s so worth all that waiting and patience, it’s so good, so indulgent to actually kiss and touch without worry. Ram’s body lifts and Crozier bears down, the two of them acting in tandem to just get that much closer, to be that near, to tangle themselves together physically to match all the ways they’ve already been entwined.
Crozier quietly gasps for breath between kisses, eagerly diving back in for more and more each time. With his face now clean-shaven he can really feel the brush of Rama’s beard and mustache against his skin, one of the small (or not-so-small) reminders that he’s fallen in love with and is deeply attracted to a man. Said man feels so strong and sturdy underneath him, it’s entirely new and strange and intoxicating.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2024-07-27 07:31 pm (UTC)He huffs a laugh through his nose. So much for subtlety.
“I don’t abuse what doesn’t belong to me, you can trust in that.” Ram having to hide it whilst living in the barracks tells him all that he needs about the lengths he’s had to go through to preserve his possessions. He thinks about his days still sleeping with the crew in the converted mess - he would sleep with his things secreted underneath his pillow.
“I do,” he tells him, grabbing the ratty broom they’d scrounged from another abandoned cabin. He sweeps with the handle carefully anchored against his wrist, a slow but well-practiced process. “I enjoy doing things for myself. Always have. But things are just expected of you when you grow in the ranks.”
no subject
Date: 2024-07-27 08:39 pm (UTC)When Francis had talked about the way he used to be, he'd said he'd been... jealous, hadn't it been? Resentful? That means ambition too, so: "Especially if you wanted a higher rank some day," he guesses. "It wouldn't do to remind anyone where you came from."
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Date: 2024-07-27 09:19 pm (UTC)“I must admit there is a certain amount of pleasure to be had when someone follows your command, especially when you’re used to being the one following said orders. But having someone shave and dress you…that’s a different level of command, isn’t it? Less officer and more member of the leisure class.”
But it would have been odd to turn away the services of a steward. It was a must for officers. “I suppose one can get used to anything, and having as good a steward as Jopson, who was more a spy who also served tea than anything else.”
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Date: 2024-07-27 10:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-27 10:59 pm (UTC)“I used to tell him he could be a newspaperman. He always knew the goings-on of both ship - Antarctica and that last expedition.” He was a valuable asset, and not just because he was the only one Crozier felt like he could actually trust for a while there.
Thinking about Jopson always tugs at the center of his brain responsible for guilt. “A captain of his ship is traditionally responsible for choosing his crew. The Admiralty gave this duty solely to Sir John; he picked my entire crew, from cook to officers. But I was allowed to choose my steward, and naturally I brought the young man who had accompanied me to Antarctica.”
And doomed him.
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Date: 2024-07-28 01:32 am (UTC)"Instead of one of the others you'd sailed with before?" he asks, moving over to the chair Francis had been sitting in to move that as well. "He must have made an impression that first time."
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Date: 2024-07-28 02:22 am (UTC)That Thomas Jopson certainly did. He was terrified during the fire on Terror, then when they'd crashed into Erebus on that horrible night, but he stayed standing and alert and always by his side. He was a good man, brave and kind, and Crozier knew he only wanted him as his steward from then on out.
"He did. He was on the Racer chasing slavers in the Caribbean before he went to Antarctica. I've never met a kinder soul."
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Date: 2024-07-28 11:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-28 12:49 pm (UTC)He huffs softly at the little hair ruffle. “It’s quite a change from the rocks of King William Island,” he says, going back to his sweeping. The dust and hair need to finish their journey of getting swept out the front door.
“I don’t know how he’s been. He didn’t look well at the town hall.”
It’s a hard thing to admit. Jopson had been glued to his side, and then one day decided he needed to not see Crozier for a while. It has hurt, but he understood. Jopson doesn’t need to be mired in the past if he can help it.
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Date: 2024-07-28 01:55 pm (UTC)"If we start going into town more often, one of us might see him," he offers. It isn't something he's inclined to do for its own sake; it's odd to not be committed to one approach or the other, when every decision in his life up to this place was a calculation, how close this took him to his goal and how far that would move him away. But he's committed to Francis, at least, and he's no stranger to spending time around people he doesn't care for. If doing it might help Francis worry less, then Raju wouldn't mind. "I can keep an eye out for you."
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Date: 2024-07-28 02:11 pm (UTC)It’s a testament to Ram’s affection for him that he would even offer. He finishes his task and sets the broom aside, crossing the room to set his arm on Rama’s shoulder and then the back of his neck.
“Thank you, but he’s in Lakeside now. If he comes back to Milton…”
He shakes his head softly. “Ah, I don’t know, Rama. I suppose it couldn’t hurt to at least look out.”
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Date: 2024-07-28 03:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-28 03:35 pm (UTC)The easy affection is novel, but not unwanted. If he’s lucky enough to continue being on the receiving side he just may get used to it, and wouldn’t that be a lovely little life? He smiles and caresses the curve of his neck, happy to just share in this moment with him without wanting for more.
The healing continues as Crozier refuses to jeopardize his health again, even if not touching Rama is so frustrating it’s almost insidious. He can stare all he wants, flirt all he wants, moon and long and admire, but he cannot touch and it’s driving him to distraction. But the happy day comes when Svetlana visits and gives him that final check - his breathing will never be the same, but he’s as fully healed as he’ll ever be. No long fragile or frail, able to walk and work and forage and all the things he’s been itching to do since the fight with Hickey.
He and Ram eat their dinner together and talk about the day, as they usually do, Crozier keeping that one vital detail to himself as they enjoy the fish pie Svetlana delivered earlier that day. They clean up and build the fire and lay the furs for their bed, Crozier doing a little light reading before he dims the lanterns and secures the doors and windows. He crawls into the furs and lays on the side he’s typically occupied, still holding onto his news.
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Date: 2024-07-28 04:14 pm (UTC)He doesn't mind not being able to touch the way he wants, not exactly. Or, he doesn't mind minding it. Usually. But the nights are harder. In Delhi there'd been plenty of work to do, and if he only tried hard enough to find it, and did it for long enough, he hadn't needed help falling asleep. Raju sighs, turning onto his side, arm draped over his chest. It's usually at least a little easier if he can look at him. Francis loves him, and wants to be with him— and he's just there, so really, Raju is lucky.
no subject
Date: 2024-07-28 04:46 pm (UTC)He likes to look at Ram as he’s falling asleep as well, his soft expression and comforting presence enough to usually soothe away the worries of the days. He indulges in this for a moment, looking at Rama in the glow from the fireplace and watching the shadows dance over his skin, before he begins to inch closer.
“Svetlana gave me more than the pie,” he tells him cryptically.
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Date: 2024-07-28 05:07 pm (UTC)"Bad news?" Maybe the pie had been less a gift and more a consolation. Raju tries to catch some kind of clue from Francis' manner. He doesn't seem concerned, at least not yet. Would he? He tries to think whether Francis has ever delivered him bad news on purpose before; Raju doesn't know how he would do it.
no subject
Date: 2024-07-28 06:41 pm (UTC)“The opposite, in fact.” He won’t let Ram dangle for too long, but he is enjoying the anticipation.
Once close enough he slides his arm around Rama’s waist, urging him closer with a gentle tug. “The good doctor says I’m fully and completely healed.”
no subject
Date: 2024-07-28 06:58 pm (UTC)He takes a moment, enjoying the pressure in his chest and the heat licking at his insides underneath it. "You knew this all day," he goes on, grinning a little too much to quite manage making it an accusation. "And you waited untill now to tell me?"
no subject
Date: 2024-07-28 07:49 pm (UTC)Crozier starts to laugh, quietly at first, then more loudly as his amusement at himself and Ram’s mild protest builds. It helps too that he can belly laugh now and it doesn’t hurt, nothing hurts, everything feels as it shoulder.
“I did, I’m sorry,” he says through chuckles. He wanted to surprise him, which he thinks he accomplished very nicely. “I wanted to surprise you.”
He slides his arm onto the furs behind Ram, moving forward and pushing him carefully onto his back. He wants to pin him down and kiss him just like he’d been craving all this time.
no subject
Date: 2024-07-28 08:37 pm (UTC)Here's the more familiar impulse to roll until Francis is beneath him instead. But a man who's had to restrain himself so long as Francis has deserves a little free reign, doesn't he? Certainly one does who Raju trusts this way. Besides, Raju wants to know what Francis is going to do from here. And which part of it is making Raju's heart beat so hard.
His hand hasn't left Francis' collar; two fingers are hooked into it now, pulling it a little away from Raju's chest. His other hand flattens itself against the blanket and pushes, pushing Raju just far enough up to crane his neck and press their lips together.
no subject
Date: 2024-07-28 10:55 pm (UTC)Crozier surges forward to meet the kiss, groaning softly in the back of his throat as his nose brushes against Ram’s cheek. If it weren’t for those big, expressive eyes of his, wide in surprise and glittering in the low light, he might have found a little more restraint — might being the operative word, he knows his weaknesses, and having this very beautiful man finally pressed against him is more than even his self-restraint can handle.
As he presses down he can feel the thrum of Ram’s heart - or is that is own - and he deepens the kiss to devour him. He’s been more passive than he’s ever had to be, which surprisingly had its merits, but he wants Rama in the ways he’d imagined, all the ways he’s dreamed of adoring him. His hand on the fur slides down until it comes across Rams, and he links their fingers together as he pins it down.
no subject
Date: 2024-07-28 11:41 pm (UTC)Still. There's no reason to make things too easy on him.
The hand Raju's got on Francis' collar starts to creep up toward the back of Francis' neck, elbow out and the bend of his arm open enough that an arm on its own could slip itself through and push Raju's down to the blanket without any hand involved at all. Not making it too easy, but not making it too hard.
"And the other hand?" he grins against Francis' lips, hand continuing its slow journey toward holding Francis down somewhere. "What are you going to do about that?"
no subject
Date: 2024-07-29 12:23 am (UTC)God, he loves this man.
Crozier bites at the grin, pulling back with an audible little smack as he sucks Ram’s lower lip red. “The cheek,” he says, very quickly following the silent lead and pushing his handless arm through to pin that other hand down to the floor.
He can’t imagine Rama’s ever let someone do this to him, but he can’t allow himself to think about it because ultimately his thoughts would drift to his fiancé. She doesn’t need to be in this bed with them tonight, not when he finally has Ram in a place to kiss and touch and hold as he pleases. He thinks of their first kiss and then before that, those moments of gentle, supportive, friendly touches between them, how he would crave more without even realizing it was what he wanted.
Crozier pushes his weight down onto Ram’s arms and kisses him again, leg sliding over his in a slow conquest of him. He wouldn’t be successful at all if Ram didn’t allow for it, if he didn’t also want this just as badly.
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Date: 2024-07-29 01:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-29 01:51 am (UTC)It’s so worth all that waiting and patience, it’s so good, so indulgent to actually kiss and touch without worry. Ram’s body lifts and Crozier bears down, the two of them acting in tandem to just get that much closer, to be that near, to tangle themselves together physically to match all the ways they’ve already been entwined.
Crozier quietly gasps for breath between kisses, eagerly diving back in for more and more each time. With his face now clean-shaven he can really feel the brush of Rama’s beard and mustache against his skin, one of the small (or not-so-small) reminders that he’s fallen in love with and is deeply attracted to a man. Said man feels so strong and sturdy underneath him, it’s entirely new and strange and intoxicating.
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