[He's sympathetic to that weird clingy wet clothing thing, since he's still wearing his wet clothes, although he hardly seems to notice or care. What is taking care of yourself when you can be overprotective of your friend instead. In any case, Keith has his entire, intense focus right now.]
[He meets Keith's eyes as he carefully pulls his shirt up, pausing to cup the back of his head again and ease the collar off him before sliding it off entirely. He glances down at his chest for a moment, more confirming again that there aren't any hidden injuries he hadn't noticed. If he notes the way Keith's heart seems to be beating faster and the slight warmth to his face when his fingers brush over it, he interprets it as adrenaline, as pain, as his body trying to heal. He frowns, though, concerned but thoughtful.]
[He only stops and hesitates when his brain finally catches up with him and he realizes Keith's only wearing underwear now. He blushes a little, but pushes through-- grabbing the extra blanket and draping it over Keith for at least some sense of modesty, making sure he's as comfortable as he can make him... before reaching up underneath the blanket and curling around the waistband.]
These will dry quickly, at least. [His tone is apologetic, but he's also not going to leave them on and risk... what? him getting cold? Whatever, he's being thorough. He eases them down slowly, much more slowly than with the shirt, focusing entirely on not hurting his leg further. He pauses every time his hands accidentally brush over his skin, as if afraid that'll hurt him somehow-- watching his face for signs of pain.]