Help Luke into the bathroom

"C'mon," you say. "The bathroom is down the hall." Luke takes a step away from the wall and his legs buckle. You react without thinking and catch him, sliding your shoulder under his arm and wrapping one arm around his waist. He's heavier than he looks and you can feel his hard, rippling muscles as you hold him up and guide him down the hall to the bathroom. "Just a little farther," you pant, as much for your own benefit as his. Once in the bathroom, you close the lid of the toilet and lower him onto the throne before turning on the light.

"Thank you," he says, not sounding nearly as out of breath as you do. He glances around the room and gasps. "You have a shower. Does it have hot water?"

"Of course," you say, glancing back at the flowery pink shower curtain. Don't all showers? "Wait, is there no hot water in your universe?"

"Not for Furs," Luke says, shoving his gun back into its holster and peeling his black T-shirt off over his head. He draws a sharp, pained breath through his teeth as it slides over his injured forearm. "Humans have the luxury, but Furs live on the run, hiding in the ruins of cities destroyed in the war. We bathe in rivers and lakes. If we want hot water, it has to be heated over a fire. Do you mind if I--?" He gestures toward the tub.