Faolan huffs out the breath of a laugh at that, uncertain whether he wants to be amused or maybe just find himself a hole and crawl into it. Sausage rolls... He raises a hand to run across his face and through his hair, trying to get himself together.

"I'm in no position to be making any sorts of demands from you," he relies. "Sausage rolls or no." And they had been good. He's just got the feeling he's never going to be able to look at one again without being reminded of the various mistakes he'd made the night before.

"I'd like that, though," he admits, softly. Self-consciously to be honest. "If you'll have me." Like he could ever say no, especially to an offer of food and Lancelot's company. He only hopes the other man understands what it is that he's asking of him.