The finger against his chest has him biting his lip to avoid offering commentary that might not be welcome. Usually the smear of blood only tended to excite him if the blood belonged to someone else. Apparently he isn't too old to learn new things about himself. Francis' lips are so close he could catch them with a simple turn of his head if he wanted to.

"Like what?" Lester doesn't suspect he means shirtless on his bed. It's probably the combination of shirtless and bleeding though. Or at least the latter. It's delightfully fucked up and exactly the shit he's into. And for obvious reasons he wants to hear Francis say it.

He moves further up the bed, tugging the archer along with him. His hands pull Francis forward by his belt so that he's practically on his lap where it's much easier for Lester to undo the fastening and take it off.