[ Spock perches on the stool and sits still as Jim separates the shirt from his skin, feeling the gentle pull of his own sticky blood in places and the cool air hitting his wet skin in others.
When prompted, he raises his arms obediently for Jim, thankful for the help when it hurts much less with the assistance. He closes his eyes in anticipation of the wet and dirty shirt passing over his face.
He's not used to being taken care of like this, but then he's also not used to being injured without access to Federation technology. It feels... oddly intimate and that thought has heat rising up the back of his neck. ]
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When prompted, he raises his arms obediently for Jim, thankful for the help when it hurts much less with the assistance. He closes his eyes in anticipation of the wet and dirty shirt passing over his face.
He's not used to being taken care of like this, but then he's also not used to being injured without access to Federation technology. It feels... oddly intimate and that thought has heat rising up the back of his neck. ]