The soothing touches…they’re so chaste, so nice they shouldn’t be exciting but they are. Sensual, comforting, and as he relaxes his arousal turns to a delicious slow burn that makes him want to sink into Finnick and just fucking devour him…
“Traffic lights…I know ‘em. I really like that idea, actually.”
Lifting his head, John looks into Finnick’s face, then lays a hand against his neck, palm and fingers splayed against his throat without pressure.
No, he’s not going to choke Finnick. That hasn’t changed…but he’s less scared of just teasing at the idea with more daring touches.
So he lets that linger for a second, smiles—and steps back, out of Finnick’s embrace. It’s hard, but he’s not stupid: he’s seen something in Finnick that’s exciting.
no subject
“Traffic lights…I know ‘em. I really like that idea, actually.”
Lifting his head, John looks into Finnick’s face, then lays a hand against his neck, palm and fingers splayed against his throat without pressure.
No, he’s not going to choke Finnick. That hasn’t changed…but he’s less scared of just teasing at the idea with more daring touches.
So he lets that linger for a second, smiles—and steps back, out of Finnick’s embrace. It’s hard, but he’s not stupid: he’s seen something in Finnick that’s exciting.
He wants to see how it feels to…play with it.
“Start stripping.”