Faolan hums softly under his breath, sitting forward in his chair so that Lancelot might be able to get to his shoulder more easily. Leaning his chest against the back of it, crossing his arms over the top in front of him as well. He jumps slightly under the other man's touch at first, not because it hurts but because he's sensitive to the contact he supposes, though he calms soon after that.

"You're fine," he says. "Nothing you do will hurt as much as it did to get them in the first place. To have her take a look at my arm..." He shrugs again. "Part of me wished I had gone to a hospital instead, after that. But I survived it. And here we are now..." Lancelot worrying, having to take care of him again anyway.