It looks... Well. Not great. It could look worse, Ianto supposes. (Gushing, he keeps thinking to himself.) But it definitely doesn't look great. Ianto forces himself to take in a deep breath, because it's easy to forget, in the face of it all. In response to the sound of the tightness of the other man's voice.

"Yeah, okay," he says, hoarsely. "Just. Let me know if. You need anything, alright?"

He glances back down at the other man's arm, doing his best to figure out how to approach this. Water, he needs to clean it out. He sets a hand on John's shoulder, urging him to sit forward as he reaches for the pitcher.

"Here, I'm going to see if I can try and pour this over it without pouring it all over you, do you think you can hold it out?" he asks, reaching a hand forward to close around the other man's wrist to help.