His teeth are dug into his bottom lip, probably hurting him more than he already is. He looks up at you, then down on the wounds tearing through his spider-suit and into his body. You’ve never heard him whine before, until now. Trying to let you treat his wounds, he curses at the pain. “Ay coño- be gentle! This- ngh- be gentle…” He’s trying his hardest to call himself down.