There are a few things Lancelot had been half expecting at this point.

Faolan to shout more, Faolan to stumble and fall over, Faolan to get into a shoving match, Faolan to ignore him and want to leave anyway --

For some reason, despite the slowly dawning realisation of why Faolan might be upset, being kissed wasn't on his list.

He tenses awkwardly as Faolan grabs him, freezes as he tries to work out how to handle it. His whole brain is shutting down into white-noise panic, and of all the times to picky why did this have to happen now, surrounded by other people, while Faolan is so drunk.

Lancelot carefully pulls back from the kiss (he doesn't want to shove Faolan but not the time absolutely not the time) and something catches the corner of his eye.

He turns just in time to realise a cushion from one of the sofas is floating slightly and snatches it out of the air with a slight look of panic.