It's something Noct is intimately familiar with. Melancholy when he should be teasing, unable to maintain anything too positive for long. Something he intends to comment on, to reassure Ravus about. So is that uncertainty.

But Ravus' fingers curl into Noct's fur and he sucks in a sharp breath, back bowing as he lifts his hips slightly. His lower back has always been so sensitive, the tangled mass of scarring there making him hyperaware of every touch. Merging that with an almost feline instinct to arch up into any touch near what will soon be his tail? It leaves Ravus with Noctis pressed firmly against his chest, weight rocked forward so he can arch into his hand.

There's a low, satisfied sort of groan that escapes the younger prince as he leans in closer. A brief shake of his head as if to deny the apology entirely before he lets his head rest on Ravus' shoulder. Warm lips settle against pale skin, languid kisses along Ravus' throat while Noctis tries to drag his mind back to the conversation. "Not upset. It's nice. You're nice."

And if one of Noctis' hands curls tighter into that silver mane, mimicking the hold Ravus has in his fur well.... fair's fair.