"How's your leg?" He'll go over and sit on the lounger with him, looking at the affected area. He has essentially become a little nursemaid to his boyfriend, chiding him when he doesn't take care of things properly and caring for him then or when things happen accidentally.
"Oof, honey, one of your blisters popped... I'll be right back, I'll get you antibiotics. I have some in my car." He'll stand back up, intent on doting. "And I know you've had worse, but that doesn't mean you need to continue having worse, right?"