His preening is instinctive. He fits his mouth along the side of Fenris' thumb, giving chase as it trails the way animals fixate on minute little focal points, though it doesn't detract from the honeyed hang of his own words.

"I knew it. Deadly and dashing and— wait, what?"

He presses past Fenris' hand, blinking as he moves to peer at the still-wound bandaging which—

"Shit."

All breath. All frustration as he sits up, already reaching for the kit tucked away within the nightstand, shoulders hunched sharply forward. It's a sidelong motion that beckons Fenris nearer, made with his fingers wrapped around a pot of ointment, gauze tucked between his teeth— already moving to pull the soiled bandage away from Fenris' side.

"Let's hope I didn't just set you back two weeks for the benefit of a blowjob."