John beams at that, gently pushing Finnick just far enough away to be able to peel off his shirt. He takes his time, having felt some of those scars earlier…
…and as he lays Finnick bare, seeing those scars…
He knows enough to understand that no body can escape life on the sea without a mark. He knows Finnick is from a world not like his own, one where scars and imperfections can be more or less erased. That Finnick carries these is a form of victory for him, but knowing he suffered? That he was sick or injured, that makes his heart ache.
The burns he can surmise belong to the volcano, he’s seen the ones on his hand enough, but the rest he gives credit to Snow—and continues to plan his murder.
John has to pause there for a moment, just look his fill as his fingers map every pock mark and slash, every puncture, every line of the burns. Those, especially, as he remembers his own knife being used against him, white hot blade leaving the line of scar tissue at the edge of his left eye socket and down towards his cheekbone.
“…Jesus, you’re so beautiful it hurts to look at you.” He finally sighs, darting back in to kiss Finnick, hard and hungry, hands finally smoothing over his hips and belly before moving down to start working his pants open.
cw: references to torture
…and as he lays Finnick bare, seeing those scars…
He knows enough to understand that no body can escape life on the sea without a mark. He knows Finnick is from a world not like his own, one where scars and imperfections can be more or less erased. That Finnick carries these is a form of victory for him, but knowing he suffered? That he was sick or injured, that makes his heart ache.
The burns he can surmise belong to the volcano, he’s seen the ones on his hand enough, but the rest he gives credit to Snow—and continues to plan his murder.
John has to pause there for a moment, just look his fill as his fingers map every pock mark and slash, every puncture, every line of the burns. Those, especially, as he remembers his own knife being used against him, white hot blade leaving the line of scar tissue at the edge of his left eye socket and down towards his cheekbone.
“…Jesus, you’re so beautiful it hurts to look at you.” He finally sighs, darting back in to kiss Finnick, hard and hungry, hands finally smoothing over his hips and belly before moving down to start working his pants open.