He just cast another sideways glance towards the other man and sighed, "What are you going to eat, then?" Even now, he could still think enough to be concerned for George's wellbeing as well. He supposed that's why he was a saint (or something). But he was older and once it had been his duty to look out for the other man - even if it wasn't anymore.
He didn't get the chance to hear a reply to it, though, as the words had no sooner left George's mouth than Sebastian was pushing himself up off the couch obediently and making his way back towards the bathroom to change his bandages. It was a knee-jerk reaction, even if anyone else would have been told to get bent. Even if George was sometimes easier to take his frustration out on, he rarely did to the extent of his ability. And the answer to why was very deeply repressed at the moment.
Sebastian had bandage-changing down to an art, though, and it only took him a couple of minutes before he was making his way back out into the living room, tugging his shirt down as he walked.