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Frankly, this was embarrassing for the both of you, and you were pretty it was going to take more than super glue and duct tape to fix it. You managed to get out of the ship the wrong way, rip your blouse, and scratch on your stomach.
“M-m-mi corazón, are y-you alright?”
Bunching up the fabric, you sighed. “Yeah, I'm fine, though my blouse isn't.”
Looking down at your hands, he noticed the small blood stains, and as you were trying to avoid, he panicked. “N-n-no! You're not o-ok.”
Gently, he pried away your hands, and what he found made him gasp. “You - you hurt yourself.”
It was only a scratch, but again you might as well have broken a limb; he was such a worrier. Considering you two were too far from the nearest drugstore, in some random planet you two were about to explore, Zeta-7 did the next best thing. Without thinking twice, he knelt down, pushed up the fabric of your blouse, and took out an antibacterial Hello Ricky bandaid; covering the scratch, and finishing off with a kiss. “Th-there,” he said softly. “all better.”
You couldn't help but blush at the gesture, but it didn't really fix the problem with your blouse. Oh well, you were sure he'd find a way to fix it somehow.