Finnick sees and feels John relax, meaning he feels safe, which is perfect. He knows it takes a lot for people like them to feel safe, in any scenario.

It's also clear that even as he relaxes, his body is creeping toward climax despite the lack of attention his dick is getting.

And just as he thinks John is far gone, that it may be time just to take him in hand and finish him, a new plea falls from his lips, making Finnick look up.

The request is sweet, as is the way the request is made- urgent, like touching Finnick is the greatest privilege he could receive while also being a desperate need. Not a sly want from a man who thinks he's entitled to Finnick's body because he has money and power, but a plea for connection and intimacy from someone who deeply needs it and can only let himself ask for it when his inhibitions are completely stripped away.

He moves back up to lay next to John, keeping eyes on his. He brushes some brown fluffy hair back from his forehead with his fingertips, smiling softly.

"Yes, you've been very good, so you can touch me, darling. Thank you for asking." It means a lot- to be asked. To have that bit of control.