"...John." he replies, suddenly unsure of the same. It doesn't help that Finnick reaches for his hand, and it burns like a hot cup of coffee through the thick ceramic, warm and sharp and...really good.

He's close, too close--close in a way John remembers all too well when Co was pulling him in...

It hurts, and at the same time it's just like that day in the jungle: it feels like it'll hurt more to pull away from it. He's being so kind, too kind.

John isn't sure how long he's just...been looking into Finnick's eyes--fucking gorgeous eyes--but his drop just a little with a shy smile because this...it feels like something, and he's growing increasingly aware that it's apparently a thing, liking guys and girls both, and he doesn't know if kissing a man is the same as...

"I, uh...I've never--not--not a guy." he confesses in barely a whisper, blushing harder. "Not really allowed back in my world, y'know?"