Faolan flicks his eyes to the other man for a moment, then down into his coffee, feeling the flush spreading across his face as he does.

"More like a suit," he confirms, quietly. "I haven't got anything even remotely similar to be able to dress to match, even if I were to make the attempt. Grey isn't exactly my color." It looks good on Lancelot, though, he might have said. If he was feeling more courageous than he does in this moment. He's had enough admissions of the like for one day, besides.

Faolan takes a few more sips of his coffee, glancing across again at the other man as he does. "We should... Probably head out," he admits, reluctantly. "Especially if you want to keep that suit clean." He's not exactly excited to show the man over to his flat. What will he make of him, after it? Though there's a part of him that's secretly glad of it. Maybe Lancelot's presence there will help make the little place a bit less depressing. Maybe.