“You can see me in a minute, don’t be so damned impatient,” he chuckles, trying to playfully swat him away. “I averted my eyes when we were at the hot springs, like a gentleman, when all I truly wanted was to stare like a lecher. I’m getting my fill now.”
He has him toe off his boots and then starts tugging the layers down all at once to expose his lower stomach and hips. “Worth the wait,” he mutters to himself, breath hitching in his throat as he pushes down his trousers and drawers and lets them unceremoniously puddle around Rama’s feet.
God damn. It’s obscene, how beautiful he looks, how utterly perfect. His hand fits just-so as he grasps his hip, letting his eyes roam and drink him in from lower legs up to the nape of his neck.
What a stupid place this is, to be so cold all of the time.
Despite the injustice of Francis' own clothes Raju helps, watching Francis' face fixedly, somehow not minding everything covering Francis up quite yet because the way Francis is looking at him...
There's even more left in him to set alight because the way Francis is looking at him lights something up, something Raju hadn't expected to feel quite the way it does, and after a moment he realises it's because the way Francis is staring is new.
Seetha had looked, of course. She'd looked, and she'd loved him. But she'd been familiar with his body, in one way or another, for all the life she could remember living. They'd both been, with the other. They'd treasured one another but, he realises, hadn't ever thought to marvel quite this way. Maybe it had never occurred to her, the way it had never occurred to him. Francis, now, is looking at him like he's a wonder, a revelation, and the pleasure of being looked at that way by this man overflows into another flush over Raju's skin, at his chest and neck, across his cheeks as he stands there, trousers pooled around his ankles, unmoving even as the hand on his hip flares into pinprick feeling in every little place Francis is touching. Raju's chin lifts as he breathes in slowly, expression awe and helpless pleasure. His hands curl into happy fists.
"Your face," Raju murmurs and then expectantly, hoping to hear some elaboration on the topic, maybe the same heat in Francis' words that Raju's feeling from his gaze now: "You do like it. As much as that?"
“My face,” he echos distractedly, finally daring to caress his chest with the lightest brush of his fingertips. He follows down his sternum and under the sweep of his pectorals, back up over one nipple to follow the slope of his collarbone. “Oh, yes,” he whispers, eyes wide and voice awed as though beholding something holy. “I like it very much.”
Rama belongs on an altar - his bed will serve, of course. He follows his fingers as they sweep along his shoulder and then back down to his hip, eyes drinking in what he can see of his lower half. Strong thighs, pretty cock, muscled abdomen and pelvis, shapely legs. “You’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen,” he tells him breathlessly. “My god. The whole picture…it’s so much more than I could have imagined. I need to see you on our bed. I want you laid out for me so I can touch and taste all these perfect pieces of you.”
Raju's laugh is a quiet, giddy little huff of air, his gaze fixed on Francis and his lips pulling into a smile he couldn't stop if he'd wanted to. The more Francis brushes against Raju with his fingertips so carefully with that awe on his face the more Raju leans in toward him, the fists he's holding his hands in the only thing keeping them at his sides. But it's too... too wonderful, being looked at that way, touched that way, as if something worth that awe is happening just because Raju is standing here all bared to him, to break the spell by reaching back no matter how strong the pull Raju feels to touch him.
The sweep of Francis' fingers makes Raju shudder, the trail it leaves over his skin and the joy filling him up hardening his cock, too. "Beautiful?" he murmurs, not sure why the word is striking him so powerfully now when he's never cared for the word one way or the other before, from anywhere but Francis' lips. But the way Francis is looking at him. He isn't even asking Raju to do anything to look at him like some treasure of immeasurable value that he'd never expected to stand in the presence of. To stand here and be seen is enough, the end unto itself.
"If you don't take your clothes off first," he promises, voice low and eager and smiling, "I'm going to tear them off."
Can he? It doesn't matter. He'll find a way. He has a knife, somewhere.
“Tear them off and you’ll have to mend them later,” he teases, gentle caresses pausing for a moment. He cups Rama’s face in his hands, eyes drinking the graceful slope of his nose and his dark, thick eyelashes and brow. His eyes, glittering bright and half-moon shaped from the smile that reaches it, lock with his and he smiles in adoration.
“Beautiful,” he repeats. He tips his head forward and presses a kiss to his lips; if his mouth is occupied then he can’t protest. But he does relent after a minute of kissing, what started slow and sweet growing hot and heavy again. He pulls back and finally allows Rama to help him out of his clothes.
Raju'd started pressing into the kiss, his hands finally allowed to uncurl and touch and already slipping underneath Francis' jumper, sliding over skin, and when Francis pulls back Raju's hands slide all the way up, pulling everything off Francis' top half at once whether Francis is ready or not to keep it from getting stuck on his arms or his face.
"You got to look at me," he says, half-trying to make it sound like a complaint and half focusing on unbuttoning Francis' trousers. "Now let me look at you. All this waiting, Francis."
He did get to look at him, and he’s going to keep looking at him. This is just a temporary setback. “It’s terrible, isn’t it? All that waiting,” he chuckles softly, his gaze drifting down to his own chest as he pushes his wayward hair from his face.
Oh. That’s right, the scars left by the tuunbaq is gone. He’d almost forgotten about them entirely, but it strikes him odd not to see it on himself, those obvious claw marks as signature a marker as his stub of a hand. He blinks away some of his surprise and looks up at him with a sheepish smile.
Raju looks up from Francis' trousers long enough to meet Francis' sheepish smile with his warm one. "If you'd taken these all off earlier you'd have had more time to get used to it," he teases, sliding Francis' trousers down along with his pants beneath them, hands lingering over Francis' hips. Raju steps in close to him, and his hands slide behind Francis, and Raju gives a sigh of contentment when his hands settle to cup half each of Francis' arse.
"This here," he says, his hands jiggling their cargo for a moment. "You said it's different now, earlier. How different?"
His eyebrows go right up to his hairline at Rama's unashamed grope. "You tell me," he laughs, shimmying a little closer, wanting to bask in the heat of his touch. "Does it feel different? I can't remember if you'd ever had yourself a decent goosing of my rear end."
"Not half so often as I'd like," Raju grins, enjoying the nearness of him, of their stomachs against one another, their thighs, the parts of Francis' body that touch warm and soft against Raju's stiffening cock. "I'll have to be very thorough this time. I might take notes. But I'll need to lay you out to get a good look. You were saying something about a bed, weren't you?"
"Notes! You'll have time for notes?" He pushes his hips forward cheekily, just enough to get in a bit of a satisfying jolt for the two of them. "Once we find a bed you won't be thinking about notes. You'll have to let go of my arse first though."
He doesn't want him to let go, but if they separate now they won't have to until much, much later.
The sudden forward motion of Francis' hips earns him a quick shaky inhale from Raju and he ducks his head over Francis' shoulder, breathing. "Mm," he hums as he straightens again, expression considering as if he has to think carefully over Francis' proposed exchange. Letting go now for pleasure in a minute... He thinks over it. His feet slip out from the puddle of clothes at his ankles very slowly, trying to hold Francis' gaze to keep him from looking down and noticing it. Then Raju pinches sharply at the soft flesh under one of his hands and jumps back in the direction of the bedroom, just out of range of easy retaliation unless Francis follows, and watches him expectantly, cheeks starting to hurt from his grin. Of course Raju is going in that direction, to lead him there or follow him or be chased, but there's no reason not to make a game out of it on the way.
He helps, astonished. He should have guessed that cheeky brat was going to try something like that! He has to wiggle from his own trousers in an undignified manner before he can give chase, but give chase he does once he’s completely free of his clothing and able to dash right after him.
Running around stark naked with half an erection - not something he ever pictured for himself at this stage in his life. It’s delightful; he loves being able to play games again. He tries to get close enough to him to catch him and throw him onto the bed, breathless laugh and the slapping of bare feet on the floor alerting Rama to Crozier’s close proximity,
Raju tries to dart here and there but it's only for an instant, for the look of the thing, and when he runs into the bedroom and Francis throws him on the bed his laughter is breathless too, surprised and delighted. Before he's even finished bouncing on the mattress he's reaching out, trying to snatch at Francis' arm and lean back. If Francis falls onto the bed with him, wonderful. If he makes Raju work to get him there, that's wonderful, too. He can't imagine anything Francis might do right now that wouldn't be.
Crozier doesn’t stop himself from falling into the bed right along with him, body landing half-on, half-off of Rama’s. He takes advantage of this new vantage point to start covering his chest in kisses, sighing softly as his lips touch his supple skin. He’s only been able to touch so far, but now that Rama’s bare he wants to taste and appreciate him properly. His lips travel down to one of his nipples and his tongue traces the skin until it puckers and hardens.
Raju's breathing is rougher, and when Francis licks around one of his nipples Raju shivers, starting to roll onto his side and stopping himself before he can get far at all, not wanting to move Francis' mouth. His legs bend as he resists the urge to curl up. Ridiculous that he should feel ticklish at this, too, that last time he'd felt that way in a moment almost like this hadn't been an odd fluke. But it's wonderful, too, Francis touches him in ways no one has in years, in a lifetime, and it's wonderful.
"Careful," Raju rasps, a hand reaching for Francis' shoulder and scrabbling at it for a moment before grasping it. "I may not last long this time either. You're too..."
He thinks over it for a second, panting a little, but can't think of a single word, or even a few. Too everything. He's too happy just now to pinpoint the feeling's source.
Crozier lifts his head with a playful little smack of his lips. “If you come before I’m able to fuck you, I’m going to be very cross with you,” he teases, brushing his fingers along his side.
He squirmed like he was feeling ticklish again - as though he’s not going to explore that further, especially as it means getting to put his hands all over him. He’s been dying to do exactly this, and he grins wickedly and moves his fingers up to underneath his arms, then down to his sides, then on the inside of his thighs, searching for those sensitive areas as he basks in how gorgeous Ram is like this, how lucky he feels to get to feast in this way. Eyes and mouth and fingers, everything is devouring him like he might not get a second chance to drink him in.
That sounds like a challenge, to last as long as he can, and he feels himself rising — well — to meet it, but can't figure out whether the wonderful feeling of Francis' fingertips tracing their terrible path over Raju's skin makes that challenge easier to meet or that much harder. At the touch under his arms Raju takes a sharp breath, arms spreading in a sudden movement and then going still, muscles tense and fingers curling into the blanket. The muscles of his stomach and his thighs and calves clench as Francis brushes over them but at the touch to his thighs his legs twitch too, trying to close against themselves before he lets out a hard breath and opens them wider, pressing his head back against the mattress.
"Francis" he warns, tense and happily. "I'm not going to kick you. But—" But he might. He won't. He might. He wonders if he should warn Francis to be careful again.
On one hand, he doesn’t fancy getting kicked, but he doeswants to see him laugh. “It would serve me right, wouldn’t it?”
He moves to one side of Ram and continues to search for a ticklish spot, all the while continuing to admire every part of him. He’s under no illusions that this good thing will last, but for the moment he just wants to lose himself and pretend. Nothing else exists but the two of them.
Francis' comment gets a breathless, amused noise, shaky with the ghost of laughter either from Francis' joke or Francis' damned fingers. Raju twitches away as Francis explores and then moves back, breathing unsteadily through his mouth. "You said it, not me," he agrees, fingers clenching in the blanket under him before he forces them to straighten again. "I thought you wanted to fuck me, notAah—"
That protest, it turns out, was badly timed, and a particular movement of Francis' fingers pushes a startled, urgent noise out of him, something that might have become laughter if he hadn't clamped down on it so fast. He does it without deciding to, without thinking about it; the muscles of his throat tighten over it as his muscles elsewhere twitch and tense. The noise he lets out after is another breathless one, at himself more than the tickling.
"Than drive me..." he pauses, more careful this time, to see whether Francis is going to continue, and once it's safe finishes, "crazy, Francis," in a gasp, grinning up at the ceiling.
He isn’t sure why Rama fights so hard not to laugh - a habit repeated now as Crozier searches for that spot that’ll send him straight through the roof. It’s stubbornness, something about self-discipline or control, or winning, though the why doesn’t matter as much as how he’s going to get him to break.
“Why can’t I do both?” he says with a smirk, letting up the touch only to attack him again in a different spot. “It’s more fun to drive you mad. Everything else can wait until I get a laugh out of you.”
Preferably with an adorable little wheeze and wriggle, maybe a tiny plea to have mercy. A man can dream, can’t he? And right now this is very much what he wants from Ram.
It isn’t so much the places Francis is tickling that eat at his resolve but the unrelenting nature of it. But certain places do get more of a stifled, choked-off reaction than others: His nipples, of course. His armpits, the insides of his elbows, his sides, the skin between his hips. The tops of his thighs. If Francis risks lower, behind his knees, the sensitive skin there and Francis’ persistence, and the smirk in Francis’ voice will win him a burst of laughter, sharp and delighted, before Raju wrests his voice under control again. His legs twitch hard and then still, and fall open wider.
“Everything else?” he wheezes, feet scrabbling at the blanket more to ease the part of him that wants to squirm away from Francis’ fingers than to try and get any real distance. “It’s not that important.”
Then, mostly to add another protest and a little just for the pleasure of feeling it inside his mouth: “Francis!” he says again.
He drops his head down onto Rama's chest at that laugh, joining him with his own little pleased chuckle. His whole body thrums with desire for him, the elation on his face and that beautiful laugh making his heart twist almost painfully in his chest. The joy is so large it feels overwhelming, like he couldn't possibly contain all that he feels for this man.
"Rama!" he laughs, finally pulling himself up. He pushes the hair back from his face and looks down at him, grin slowly fading from his face as the heat in him takes over fully. Rama on his back like this, fully naked, legs spread and chest heaving - he's going to remember this moment for the rest of his life. He needs to, every single little detail needs to be remembered, from the way his body hair looks in the faint light to the twitching of the muscles as he laughs and flexes and moves.
Everything about this is intimate, there's not a single thing in or around him right now that's not, but Francis dropping his head onto Raju's chest is one more thing; there's a vulnerability and a trust in the gesture that clenches in his chest and throat, and he knows all this pressure inside him would be bursting into a fire some place around them if the feeling — the happiness — hadn't already been turning itself toward making him warm all over. Warm enough to go without anything covering him up at all in a place where he hasn't worn less than two layers even inside since the moment he found enough spare clothes to do it.
Any more and he'll be sweating. He thinks it absently as he watches Francis watching him, the fruitless squirming to escape Francis' fingers slowed to a stop.
The tone in Francis' voice signals a change in their game; Francis has got enough of the first thing that he'd wanted, then. The expression that spreads over Raju's face is hungry and wicked. One of his arms is propping him up by the elbow; the other reaches out and grasps the back of Francis' neck, wanting to pull him close enough to kiss him, close enough to feel his lips and anything else that might happen to press against him as Francis moves.
He meets the kiss and swears he can taste the heat on his tongue. It swirls in his mouth and burns all the way down into his belly, lighting him up with like it’s a bonfire.
Now he has to figure out logistics. Goddamn it. But he wants what he wants, in his kisses and touches and that glint of mischief in his eyes that Rama wants it just as badly, and so he needs to follow through. His body is never going to be more ready to please and keep up with Rama than it is now. He pulls himself away, his swollen lips beckoning and inviting him for another quick kiss against his better judgement.
But he finally does move away, having considered what they might need. Some kind of oil? Or grease? Christ, that doesn’t sound pleasant at all, but he needs to be confident here. He’d asked for this, after all.
Well. Does he? Does he really have to be confident and self-assured?
“I’ve never done this,” he laughs quietly, brushing his fingers across Ram’s abdomen fondly. “I think we’ll need oil to ease things. Something from the kitchen or washroom?”
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Date: 2024-09-16 01:22 am (UTC)“You can see me in a minute, don’t be so damned impatient,” he chuckles, trying to playfully swat him away. “I averted my eyes when we were at the hot springs, like a gentleman, when all I truly wanted was to stare like a lecher. I’m getting my fill now.”
He has him toe off his boots and then starts tugging the layers down all at once to expose his lower stomach and hips. “Worth the wait,” he mutters to himself, breath hitching in his throat as he pushes down his trousers and drawers and lets them unceremoniously puddle around Rama’s feet.
God damn. It’s obscene, how beautiful he looks, how utterly perfect. His hand fits just-so as he grasps his hip, letting his eyes roam and drink him in from lower legs up to the nape of his neck.
What a stupid place this is, to be so cold all of the time.
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Date: 2024-09-16 02:54 am (UTC)There's even more left in him to set alight because the way Francis is looking at him lights something up, something Raju hadn't expected to feel quite the way it does, and after a moment he realises it's because the way Francis is staring is new.
Seetha had looked, of course. She'd looked, and she'd loved him. But she'd been familiar with his body, in one way or another, for all the life she could remember living. They'd both been, with the other. They'd treasured one another but, he realises, hadn't ever thought to marvel quite this way. Maybe it had never occurred to her, the way it had never occurred to him. Francis, now, is looking at him like he's a wonder, a revelation, and the pleasure of being looked at that way by this man overflows into another flush over Raju's skin, at his chest and neck, across his cheeks as he stands there, trousers pooled around his ankles, unmoving even as the hand on his hip flares into pinprick feeling in every little place Francis is touching. Raju's chin lifts as he breathes in slowly, expression awe and helpless pleasure. His hands curl into happy fists.
"Your face," Raju murmurs and then expectantly, hoping to hear some elaboration on the topic, maybe the same heat in Francis' words that Raju's feeling from his gaze now: "You do like it. As much as that?"
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Date: 2024-09-16 11:33 pm (UTC)“My face,” he echos distractedly, finally daring to caress his chest with the lightest brush of his fingertips. He follows down his sternum and under the sweep of his pectorals, back up over one nipple to follow the slope of his collarbone. “Oh, yes,” he whispers, eyes wide and voice awed as though beholding something holy. “I like it very much.”
Rama belongs on an altar - his bed will serve, of course. He follows his fingers as they sweep along his shoulder and then back down to his hip, eyes drinking in what he can see of his lower half. Strong thighs, pretty cock, muscled abdomen and pelvis, shapely legs. “You’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen,” he tells him breathlessly. “My god. The whole picture…it’s so much more than I could have imagined. I need to see you on our bed. I want you laid out for me so I can touch and taste all these perfect pieces of you.”
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Date: 2024-09-17 01:49 pm (UTC)The sweep of Francis' fingers makes Raju shudder, the trail it leaves over his skin and the joy filling him up hardening his cock, too. "Beautiful?" he murmurs, not sure why the word is striking him so powerfully now when he's never cared for the word one way or the other before, from anywhere but Francis' lips. But the way Francis is looking at him. He isn't even asking Raju to do anything to look at him like some treasure of immeasurable value that he'd never expected to stand in the presence of. To stand here and be seen is enough, the end unto itself.
"If you don't take your clothes off first," he promises, voice low and eager and smiling, "I'm going to tear them off."
Can he? It doesn't matter. He'll find a way. He has a knife, somewhere.
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Date: 2024-09-17 09:00 pm (UTC)“Tear them off and you’ll have to mend them later,” he teases, gentle caresses pausing for a moment. He cups Rama’s face in his hands, eyes drinking the graceful slope of his nose and his dark, thick eyelashes and brow. His eyes, glittering bright and half-moon shaped from the smile that reaches it, lock with his and he smiles in adoration.
“Beautiful,” he repeats. He tips his head forward and presses a kiss to his lips; if his mouth is occupied then he can’t protest. But he does relent after a minute of kissing, what started slow and sweet growing hot and heavy again. He pulls back and finally allows Rama to help him out of his clothes.
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Date: 2024-09-17 10:52 pm (UTC)"You got to look at me," he says, half-trying to make it sound like a complaint and half focusing on unbuttoning Francis' trousers. "Now let me look at you. All this waiting, Francis."
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Date: 2024-09-17 11:31 pm (UTC)He did get to look at him, and he’s going to keep looking at him. This is just a temporary setback. “It’s terrible, isn’t it? All that waiting,” he chuckles softly, his gaze drifting down to his own chest as he pushes his wayward hair from his face.
Oh. That’s right, the scars left by the tuunbaq is gone. He’d almost forgotten about them entirely, but it strikes him odd not to see it on himself, those obvious claw marks as signature a marker as his stub of a hand. He blinks away some of his surprise and looks up at him with a sheepish smile.
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Date: 2024-09-17 11:48 pm (UTC)"This here," he says, his hands jiggling their cargo for a moment. "You said it's different now, earlier. How different?"
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Date: 2024-09-18 01:45 am (UTC)His eyebrows go right up to his hairline at Rama's unashamed grope. "You tell me," he laughs, shimmying a little closer, wanting to bask in the heat of his touch. "Does it feel different? I can't remember if you'd ever had yourself a decent goosing of my rear end."
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Date: 2024-09-18 02:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-09-19 01:24 am (UTC)"Notes! You'll have time for notes?" He pushes his hips forward cheekily, just enough to get in a bit of a satisfying jolt for the two of them. "Once we find a bed you won't be thinking about notes. You'll have to let go of my arse first though."
He doesn't want him to let go, but if they separate now they won't have to until much, much later.
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Date: 2024-09-19 06:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-09-20 12:48 am (UTC)He helps, astonished. He should have guessed that cheeky brat was going to try something like that! He has to wiggle from his own trousers in an undignified manner before he can give chase, but give chase he does once he’s completely free of his clothing and able to dash right after him.
Running around stark naked with half an erection - not something he ever pictured for himself at this stage in his life. It’s delightful; he loves being able to play games again. He tries to get close enough to him to catch him and throw him onto the bed, breathless laugh and the slapping of bare feet on the floor alerting Rama to Crozier’s close proximity,
no subject
Date: 2024-09-20 01:58 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-09-21 01:12 am (UTC)Crozier doesn’t stop himself from falling into the bed right along with him, body landing half-on, half-off of Rama’s. He takes advantage of this new vantage point to start covering his chest in kisses, sighing softly as his lips touch his supple skin. He’s only been able to touch so far, but now that Rama’s bare he wants to taste and appreciate him properly. His lips travel down to one of his nipples and his tongue traces the skin until it puckers and hardens.
no subject
Date: 2024-09-21 05:11 pm (UTC)"Careful," Raju rasps, a hand reaching for Francis' shoulder and scrabbling at it for a moment before grasping it. "I may not last long this time either. You're too..."
He thinks over it for a second, panting a little, but can't think of a single word, or even a few. Too everything. He's too happy just now to pinpoint the feeling's source.
no subject
Date: 2024-09-22 01:57 am (UTC)Crozier lifts his head with a playful little smack of his lips. “If you come before I’m able to fuck you, I’m going to be very cross with you,” he teases, brushing his fingers along his side.
He squirmed like he was feeling ticklish again - as though he’s not going to explore that further, especially as it means getting to put his hands all over him. He’s been dying to do exactly this, and he grins wickedly and moves his fingers up to underneath his arms, then down to his sides, then on the inside of his thighs, searching for those sensitive areas as he basks in how gorgeous Ram is like this, how lucky he feels to get to feast in this way. Eyes and mouth and fingers, everything is devouring him like he might not get a second chance to drink him in.
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Date: 2024-09-22 06:05 pm (UTC)"Francis" he warns, tense and happily. "I'm not going to kick you. But—" But he might. He won't. He might. He wonders if he should warn Francis to be careful again.
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Date: 2024-09-22 09:35 pm (UTC)On one hand, he doesn’t fancy getting kicked, but he doeswants to see him laugh. “It would serve me right, wouldn’t it?”
He moves to one side of Ram and continues to search for a ticklish spot, all the while continuing to admire every part of him. He’s under no illusions that this good thing will last, but for the moment he just wants to lose himself and pretend. Nothing else exists but the two of them.
no subject
Date: 2024-09-22 10:31 pm (UTC)That protest, it turns out, was badly timed, and a particular movement of Francis' fingers pushes a startled, urgent noise out of him, something that might have become laughter if he hadn't clamped down on it so fast. He does it without deciding to, without thinking about it; the muscles of his throat tighten over it as his muscles elsewhere twitch and tense. The noise he lets out after is another breathless one, at himself more than the tickling.
"Than drive me..." he pauses, more careful this time, to see whether Francis is going to continue, and once it's safe finishes, "crazy, Francis," in a gasp, grinning up at the ceiling.
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Date: 2024-09-23 05:17 pm (UTC)He isn’t sure why Rama fights so hard not to laugh - a habit repeated now as Crozier searches for that spot that’ll send him straight through the roof. It’s stubbornness, something about self-discipline or control, or winning, though the why doesn’t matter as much as how he’s going to get him to break.
“Why can’t I do both?” he says with a smirk, letting up the touch only to attack him again in a different spot. “It’s more fun to drive you mad. Everything else can wait until I get a laugh out of you.”
Preferably with an adorable little wheeze and wriggle, maybe a tiny plea to have mercy. A man can dream, can’t he? And right now this is very much what he wants from Ram.
no subject
Date: 2024-09-23 10:48 pm (UTC)“Everything else?” he wheezes, feet scrabbling at the blanket more to ease the part of him that wants to squirm away from Francis’ fingers than to try and get any real distance. “It’s not that important.”
Then, mostly to add another protest and a little just for the pleasure of feeling it inside his mouth: “Francis!” he says again.
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Date: 2024-09-24 02:17 am (UTC)He drops his head down onto Rama's chest at that laugh, joining him with his own little pleased chuckle. His whole body thrums with desire for him, the elation on his face and that beautiful laugh making his heart twist almost painfully in his chest. The joy is so large it feels overwhelming, like he couldn't possibly contain all that he feels for this man.
"Rama!" he laughs, finally pulling himself up. He pushes the hair back from his face and looks down at him, grin slowly fading from his face as the heat in him takes over fully. Rama on his back like this, fully naked, legs spread and chest heaving - he's going to remember this moment for the rest of his life. He needs to, every single little detail needs to be remembered, from the way his body hair looks in the faint light to the twitching of the muscles as he laughs and flexes and moves.
"Rama." His voice is low now, want apparent.
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Date: 2024-09-24 08:04 pm (UTC)Any more and he'll be sweating. He thinks it absently as he watches Francis watching him, the fruitless squirming to escape Francis' fingers slowed to a stop.
The tone in Francis' voice signals a change in their game; Francis has got enough of the first thing that he'd wanted, then. The expression that spreads over Raju's face is hungry and wicked. One of his arms is propping him up by the elbow; the other reaches out and grasps the back of Francis' neck, wanting to pull him close enough to kiss him, close enough to feel his lips and anything else that might happen to press against him as Francis moves.
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Date: 2024-09-25 01:25 am (UTC)He meets the kiss and swears he can taste the heat on his tongue. It swirls in his mouth and burns all the way down into his belly, lighting him up with like it’s a bonfire.
Now he has to figure out logistics. Goddamn it. But he wants what he wants, in his kisses and touches and that glint of mischief in his eyes that Rama wants it just as badly, and so he needs to follow through. His body is never going to be more ready to please and keep up with Rama than it is now. He pulls himself away, his swollen lips beckoning and inviting him for another quick kiss against his better judgement.
But he finally does move away, having considered what they might need. Some kind of oil? Or grease? Christ, that doesn’t sound pleasant at all, but he needs to be confident here. He’d asked for this, after all.
Well. Does he? Does he really have to be confident and self-assured?
“I’ve never done this,” he laughs quietly, brushing his fingers across Ram’s abdomen fondly. “I think we’ll need oil to ease things. Something from the kitchen or washroom?”
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