"Good," Suzaku muttered back. His hands fluttered awkwardly around Lelouch as his Prince lay down, warily in case he toppled over but hesitant to actually touch him. He was still vaguely discomfited by exactly how concerned he was for Lelouch's wellbeing. It was probably just a reaction to all the associations that came with knighthood, but he couldn't help feeling that this protectiveness went beyond the distant, practical concern he should have for an ally. At the same time, one thing was startlingly clear: he could not bear the thought of losing Lelouch. Not after what had happened to the last member of the Britannian royal family he had pledged himself to. (Discounted Charles, of course, because that had been a knighthood of convenience more than loyalty.)

Maybe he was being too protective, but he wasn't going to say that, because he didn't want to stop. "I'll guess I'll stay," he said for the sake of saying something. Might as well continue the pointless conversation when he wasn't sure what else to say to Lelouch right now. Maybe there were other things he should be saying, but he just needed some time to think. To figure out what Lelouch was to him and where to go from here. And he didn't even want to touch the subject of what he might be to Lelouch, because as masochistic as he might be sometimes, instinct told him to shy away from more of that same pain just now.

"That way I can perform all my nanny duties," he added lightly, pulling one of the sheets over Lelouch's body. "Like tucking you in -- didn't I say I might do that?" He made a great show of tucking the sheet in against Lelouch's sides, cruelly taking advantage of the fact that the other boy couldn't move much at the moment. It kept him safe from any potentially-dangerous flailing. "I could even tell you a bedtime story if you want." He was going to catch hell for this, but it was just too funny, and maybe he wasn't quite in his right mind after the emotionally draining night.