Post-Truth Nonsense

[goingtobeunwell]

It’s been a rough week for the two of them, interspersed with moments of surprising sincerity and tenderness. Ram is as affectionate as he is blunt, and though the former was met with a touch of his hand or some kind words in return, Crozier felt inadequate. Unbalanced.

He’d put Ram through a lot these past months, more than any one person should have to tolerate. The revelation that he’d loved Fitzjames in a manner more akin to his love for Sophia and his own James, dear, hadn’t been something he wanted shared. He was a different man then, still burning with hope for a better outcome, not the grief-entrenched person he’d become. Fitzjames had solidified himself in his mind as a person he’d watch die and buried and openly mourned, and yet here his brother was now, alive and not-so-well in many ways.

It complicates the humble life he’d built with Ram, to the point that Rama’s now had to sit and listen to their spats and admissions more times than he can count on his single hand. But he is the man he is now because of the past, and that man has chosen Rama as his own. There’s nothing complicated about that, and he reminds himself of this as he climbs into bed with him each night.

That night’s no different than it has been for the last few days - he covers and tucks himself in and then inches slowly into the bed, knowing that he’ll keep his distance between them for fear of Ram waking up in gore, which may lead to a disaster larger than just a rude awakening. Ram’s been good with the flames; he’d hate for an accident on his account. He says ‘good night’ to Rama and closes his eyes, hoping to move onto the next day without some new horror waiting for them on the horizon.

Comments

[load_aim_shoot]

Raju's been going to sleep at the same time as Francis less often now; if they're sleeping with space between them going to bed with Francis isn't worth the time Raju's going to spend awake. Every time he suddenly decides to say something he regrets a moment later something builds under his skin, and if he doesn't work at least some of that out on chopping wood or repairing something or cleaning or anything, then he's never going to get to sleep. Which Raju himself wouldn't mind, but if he didn't sleep, Francis would worry. But eventually Raju does join him and eventually Raju sleeps. He wakes here and there through the night, something he's started getting used to in this place that has so few ways to really tire himself, and when he wakes the final time he sighs, watching the ceiling for a moment before glancing over at Francis.

[goingtobeunwell]

Crozier’s caught between that state of not-quite-asleep but not-quite-awake, enjoying the feeling of the pillow against his face, the blanket draped around him. He huffs slightly and cracks just one eye open slightly, confirming that someone was looking his way.

“Mmnph.”

He rolls onto his back and absently pushes his hair from his face. “Been awake long?” he mutters, words still a little slurred.

[load_aim_shoot]

"No," Raju answers, honest without thought, mostly thinking about what Francis looks like when he's just woken up. Raju's studying him now, aware of the slight distance between them on the bed and missing the mornings they'd used to have, so he asks, "Can I touch you?"

[goingtobeunwell]

It’s almost easy to forget just how terrible things have been when Ram’s looking at him that way. Like he adores him, even despite his numerous flaws. His answer comes as a low rumble in his throat and a nod that beckons Rama to move closer.

[load_aim_shoot]

Raju moves in close to him immediately, sighing as he tucks his head under Francis' chin. His hand hovers uncertainly over Francis' side, dips, lifts again, and finally settles high on Francis' back. "I missed this. I know you don't want me touching you there on accident, but I don't like going to sleep that way. It's like sleeping on my own, and if I'm doing that there's no point going to sleep at all."

[goingtobeunwell]

He presses his nose into Ram’s hair, sliding his left arm around his waist to keep him close. He’s warm and lovely and firm and he just wants Ram like this forever, in his arms. “It’s been miserable,” he agrees. “I’ve missed you.”

It feels like they haven’t been able to be themselves in ages.

[load_aim_shoot]

"Mhm. I'd forgotten how it felt to sleep well before I came here. It's going to be awful when I have to go back."

His throat tightens. He ducks his head a little against Francis' neck. "Say something else," he demands, voice tight and muffled against the warmth of Francis' skin. "Distract me before I keep going."

[goingtobeunwell]

Crozier frowns and closes his eyes, feeling a knot in his throat start to form. As encouraging as he’d been, he doesn’t want to think about Ram leaving him or possibly returning back himself any more than necessary.

“Thaw’s coming soon,” he says, hoping it’ll be enough to switch off his mind. “Longer days. That’ll be nice. We can take our walks again.”

[load_aim_shoot]

"Mm." Raju makes an acknowledging noise, glad to have something else to turn his mind and mouth to. "It's hard, not being able to go out. And maybe while you're walking you'll find more to give me. I understand why women like gifts so much now. There's something about it, being handed a stone and told it looks like my eyes."

[goingtobeunwell]

He laughs quietly, glad the subject change seemed to work. “Mn. Being thought of, even when you don’t expect it. If we go out I’ll find all sorts of trinkets to bring back to you.”

[load_aim_shoot]

Raju makes a pleased noise against Francis' neck, a little tension releasing out of him. The hand on Francis' back moves a little lower, absently. "We'll fill the whole house with things that reminded you of me. It'll be like the apartments I used to have; you won't have room to sit down."

[goingtobeunwell]

That quiet little noise settles right in Crozier’s stomach, warmth spreading out and inching along his limbs. “You’re giving me carte blanche to do as I please. That’s dangerous. You’ll be drowning in pretty rocks and little weeds.”

[load_aim_shoot]

"Mm, I can't think of a better way to go, swimming in proof that you love me." Raju rolls half-onto his back so he can see Francis' face and his hand moves with him, sliding down to Francis' side. He's dangerously close to touching Francis' stomach, but he isn't thinking of it; he's trying to think as much of anything else, anything pleasant, as he can.

[goingtobeunwell]

“Crushed to death by pebbles.” He’s also not thinking about his wounds, just what he should try to bring home next for Rama. It’ll have to strike him in the moment, of course, as most of his random acts of affection do.

“I particularly enjoy the look on your face when I bring these trinkets home. You scrunch up your nose and your eyebrows furrow.” He does his best impression of Rama trying to figure out why a rock is so special, scrunched up nose and all.

[load_aim_shoot]

"I don't," he protests half indignantly, studying Francis' face to try and figure out whether he means it. "I like your trinkets."

[goingtobeunwell]

“You like them, but that doesn’t stop the brief expression of befuddlement that crosses your face,” he replies dryly. “I should keep to flowers and terrible poetry.”

[load_aim_shoot]

"You write poetry?" Raju's tone is eager and curious and he rolls onto his side again so he'll be closer, hand moving down to Francis' waist. "Or do you mean your books? If you write your own poetry you have to let me see. I won't rest until I've heard it."

[goingtobeunwell]

“Oh, no, absolutely not,” he laughs, playfully trying to nudge him away. “It’s terrible, it won’t see the light of day!”

[load_aim_shoot]

"The sun barely rises anyway," Raju insists, deeply pleased and refusing to be moved. "You can show me. Do you have it here? Do you remember it?"

[goingtobeunwell]

“No, I don’t have it here,” he grouses, annoyed at himself for having said anything at all. “It’s wherever terrible poetry goes to die. Stop asking.”

He tries again to push him away, this time with a low chuckle.

[load_aim_shoot]

"But you remember it, surely," Raju keeps insisting, still pleased, grabbing at the hand Francis had pushed him with. "Or you can write more. You remember enough of it for that, don't you?"

[goingtobeunwell]

The pushing and tugging becomes more and more a playful little tussle, with Crozier continuing to laugh and dodge Ram’s insistence for some of that poetry.

“Why? Are you so affection-starved, my love? Have I not showed you enough adoration that you need awful poetry?”

[load_aim_shoot]

"You've showed me too much." Raju bites his lip over his grin, trying to lean on Francis' hand to lean in closer. "Now I'm spoiled, and expect everything. Besides, it's not just anyone's awful poetry, it's yours. I have to know."

[goingtobeunwell]

“I might remember a few lines…I thought I was the next Wordsworth. But I couldn’t possibly…”

Crozier jerks his hand back, letting Ram either stop himself from falling or tumbling down on top of him outright.

[load_aim_shoot]

"You could--" Raju only barely finishes the word before Francis is jerking his hand back and Raju's falling forward, instinctively catching himself on Francis' chest. The moment after he does the new unhappy habit of the past few days asserts itself, reminding him not to get too close to Francis, particularly Francis' front, and the glee on his face disappears behind something startled and alert. He doesn't move away but his gaze flickers down toward Francis stomach and then he looks up again into Francis' face, studying him.

"Alright?" He asks it quietly, feeling -- ridiculous, but inescapable -- like keeping his voice down will draw less attention to what it is he's asking about.