It could be either. It could be both. Spock's deadpan deliveries often left a lot up for interpretation from the receiver of such comments. Bones shrugs a little. Willing to let it pass over the realm of offense.

"About last night, Spock." Flinging fledglings wasn't his only habit it seemed. McCoy often flung out his intentions of never speaking of things that shouldn't be spoken of. At least he had the grace to look a little sheepish at the moment.

"I left something with you, and I'd actually rather have it back, if you don't mind."

All kinds of worries pass through McCoy's mind after issuing the request. He can easily see Spock rejecting it, getting distant or saying something intended to verbally fillet him right here in the turbolift. Or he could agree and that might not be much better. Since Bones has an inexplicable urge to stop time and kiss the Vulcan senseless just to see what that would be like.

No. Nothing had changed. Except perhaps, as this attraction to Spock grew, Bones found some measure of peace in accepting it as a fact.