And Faolán's face went even redder at Killian's words, voicing the very thoughts he'd been struggling with. Ack!
And it was...kind of silly, right? Like, Killian had dressed his wounds and already seen, but Faolán couldn't ignore the wave of shyness, embarrassment, and shame creeping over him and turning his skin pink clear to his ears. He was a boy. He felt like Ansgar had given him the wrong parts, even though it was said Ansgar didn't make mistakes. But he knew anyone looking at him wouldn't see a boy, and even the sight of his own naked body was sometimes like viewing a stranger when he expected to see a flat chest and instead saw...well...those. Add that to the embarrassment that was socialized into him by his parents and society, knowing any guy looking at him naked would be seeing a woman's body and thinking those sorts of thoughts, well...
It was a little terrifying, especially now that he was more lucid and less delirious.
Worse yet were the jumbling, fumbling thoughts and realizations that Killian would be undressing. Killian, who added more confusing feelings to the mix because...because...ulp.
He stared at Killian, a classic deer in torchlight look, completely frozen as Killian removed his shirt. Even covered in muck, he was...he was easy on the eyes...
With a start, Faolán jerked his eyes away and turned his back.
"I-I won't look," he said, voice a little higher than intended, before he started to peel off his shirt, which stuck uncomfortably to his skin. He winced, for lifting his arms hurt, but finally dropped the shirt aside and worked his chest binding free--letting himself breathe, for as necessary as it was, it still felt good to take it off after a long day. The bandage around his side remained, for that was holding his wound together, and then came his boots and breeches.
He wasted no time after that splashing into the water and dunking himself up to his chest, teeth chattering in the water and back still turned. "Remember, no looking!"