It's definitely a lovely feeling, watching Thrawn undo the sealing strip of his own tunic so he can take it off easier. He swallows hard at the input, feeling warmer for the added attention, and vaguely excited on top of that. For the most part, he ignores it, carefully shrugging out of his tunic - he doesn't have anything on underneath it - and exchanges it for Thrawn's.

It's still two sizes too big, and warmed from his own body heat, so the brief temperature shift isn't too bad. The draft from the blaster hole is also negligible.

Idly, he folds his old tunic up, mindful not to let it wrinkle overmuch, even though it'll be eventually tossed in the laundry chute anyway.

"I'm keeping it, you know."

Even though he swims in it. If he bothered to lower his hands, the sleeves would slip over them a fair bit, too.