Faolan hadn't been anticipating such a suggestion, and it probably shows in the surprise on his face as he turns to the other man. Though he lets Lancelot keep directing him forwards, through his own flat and out the front door. He pauses, fumbling with the door and his keys to make sure that it's locked, before turning to the other man, the expression on his face open, uncertain, and hopeful.

"I'd. Like that. I mean. If you're not sick of having me about as it is," he amends, sheepishly, moving to stick his keys back in his pocket and then glancing away.