Faolan is honestly a little amused by the amount of care that Lancelot is putting into the fact that he's had so much to drink that his head is ready to pound itself apart. It's not like this isn't his fault after all -- he put himself right into the situation that he's in, and he deserves whatever suffering he needs to endure while he gets himself out of it. Making him breakfast that's good for hangovers, trying to get him properly hydrated, taking care of his headache. If he didn't feel awkward about other parts of his situation, if he weren't appreciative of the other man's care, he might actually tease him about it.

He doesn't though, instead hunching himself a little further into the blankets to muffle the noise for a moment and reaching down to rub at Lily's ears, stroke her face. She doesn't know what sort of faux pas he's made, nor would she care even if she did, and he appreciates the simplicity of getting to interact with her. It's a lot easier than his complicated stumblings with Lancelot, at the moment.