Ravus can't say it's not tempting to let him chase, to feel all the heat between them. Just to let thoughts fade and feel reprieve for once in his life. It's terrifying that the haze even lets him get that far in his thoughts, and that's precisely why they have to stop. Because it has to be a choice, and not a surrender.

At first, the tension under his hand makes Ravus thinks he's going to be fought about this. As much as it pains him, he's ready to push Noctis off of him. The poison doesn't mar his strength, after all. But it melts under his fingertips again, and the look Noctis shows him is a soft thing when he looks up from nuzzling Ravus' palm. He's relieved to see it, but even more so, he's transfixed by the trail of kisses up his arm. Heart thundering so hard it feels like it slams into his ribs, bursting to escape. Until he's slipping his hands down to hold the other prince steady against him, but more to feel as if he can pin that frantic beat down between them. His embrace is warm and adequately tight enough to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that, despite what he's been ready to do, he doesn't want to let go of Noctis.

"I would, yes. And full glad I am to hear it's an agreeable idea, yet it's more than that. I would wish to court you properly. To show you that I am worthy, and not merely- err... not just these fumblings while I can barely think a few words ahead of myself." Ravus says in that earnest way of his, because otherwise it might sound ridiculous. Like he's only ever understood romance in the pages of storybooks. Oops-