Francis' fingers search, and find, and the outline they trace begins to stir as soon as he feels that much-loved hand moving there. His breath in, feeling it, is a little deeper than normal, but very quiet. His nostrils flare a little.

Then Francis begins walking him back but once he gets close enough there's nothing to do with it but move, and so that at least hardly counts as a response. But he keeps his gaze carefully unfocused and carefully off Francis while he does it, so there's no doubt he isn't giving in, only responding.

"Sir," he says again, determinedly neutral. Of all the conversations he's had with any officer before there isn't exactly a script for this one.