Their last night before the Quarter Quell is their most passionate.
Peeta's given him a token - a locket of simple but exquisite design, containing not a portrait but a series of portraits animated in holographic form so that Finnick has only to open the locket's delicate, gold face to see the waves of his home district roll in towards his favorite shore. If he looks closely, in the lower right corner, Finnick can just make out the scrawl of Peeta's signature. Peeta painted each portrait himself.
Finnick wears this - and only this - when he meets Peeta in his bed chamber.
Peeta 's breath catches in his throat, even as his eyes follow the line of Finnick's body - from head to toe - and fill with tears.
All thoughts of a showy, deliberate seduction fly out of Finnick's head. He doesn't need any of his old tricks when it comes to Peeta. He never has.
He crosses the chamber in long, quick strides, and Peeta clings when he pulls the boy into his arms.
"I'm sorry... I'm sorry. I can't get anyone to listen. I can't do anything..."
"You don't have to." Finnick buries his face in Peeta's soft, natural hair. No dyes or weaves or wigs for his beloved. Tomorrow Finnick has to be strong, in front of his fellow Victors and all of Panem. But tonight, he doesn't front. For all of his devotion, his persistence, and his understanding, Peeta's earned his honesty. "You've done enough." Finnick lets all that he's feeling bleed through his words. "Peeta, you've done enough. This?" He lifts his token, on its strong chain, in reverent fingers. He's been showered in jewelry since becoming a Victor, but never plied with the thing that this one locket represents - the thing he declared on national programming, albeit in cryptic terms meant to protect Peeta. Love. "This is more than anyone's ever done. Peeta."
Peeta's face is wet when Finnick takes it in his hands and kisses his lips. But he doesn't look defeated when Finnick pulls back and looks at him - really looks at him. He's angry.
It makes Finnick smile, despite everything. His strange, brave Capitol boy.
"It isn't enough. Things have to change-"
Tonight, Finnick wants to hold the boy - the man - he loves in his arms. He wants to show Peeta how he loves him in the way he knows best.
If anything goes wrong in the arena- Finnick wants Peeta's last memory of him to be a good one. Full of pleasure and this amazing, surprising thing they found with one another. And if everything goes as planned... This may still be their goodbye. Finnick swallows thickly and promises himself to make it a good one.
Finnick kisses Peeta - from the top of his head, to the wrinkle of his worried brow, to the pleading line of his lips.
"Let me have tonight, Peeta. We can't have tomorrow. I'm sorry, but we can't. Let me have tonight..."
Finnick's already kissing along the sharp line of Peeta's jaw, down the side of his sensitive neck. He's plastering his naked body against the precisely tailored lines of Peeta's immaculate suit.
It's an unfair negotiation tactic, but Peeta should know from footage of Finnick's performance in the Games...
He does what he has to to win.
Finnick feels it the moment the fight goes out of Peeta. The solid form of his body becomes liquid everywhere Finnick presses into it. He slips his arms around Peeta's sides, and Peeta's arms rise around his shoulders to accommodate an embrace. He slides one thigh between both of Peeta's, and Peeta's thighs spread around it.
Finnick kisses the side of Peeta's throat, and Peeta tilts his head to the side to give him more access.
"I just want to love you," Finnick says against Peeta's skin. That shouldn't be so much to ask, should it? For the Victor most known, thanks to Snow, in the Capitol for his exploits as a lover. "I... want to... love... every part of you." Finnick punctuates his words with kisses and nips of his teeth.
Peeta breathes shakily beneath his lips.
"Can I do that, Peeta?"
Peeta seeks out his mouth and Finnick gladly gives it to him.
He wants to tell his boy to be careful what he promises - especially now that he could easily become consumed by a rage to make Peeta's own at the injustice of the Quarter Quell - of any Games - pale by comparison. But Peeta is the one person, perhaps, in the entire city - perhaps in all of Panem except for in his home district - who neither forgets that Finnick is, after all, a killer, nor treats him like an animal or a novelty, and Finnick will not act like one in his presence.
He's gentle as he strips Peeta of his fine suit, although he's not exactly careful where he tosses the crisp, white linen and shiny gold silk. He leads Peeta to the bed by hand, although he fells Peeta onto it with a playful shove and a mischievous grin.
Peeta lets him. Lets him tug off boots and trousers and pants and reveal the contradiction that is the lower half of Peeta's body. The lovely, full cock jutting up between his thighs, hard and ready; the flawless, white skin of his hips and pelvis; and the long, strong lines of his right leg... Right next to the artificial replica of his left leg, an adequate prosthetic, but a crude accessory for a child of the Capitol - not to mention the son of one of Snow's military advisors.
A reminder to him, Peeta said it was, from his mother after an accident while Peeta was inspecting one of their mines in District Two, that no one is entitled to the mercy of the Capitol... that mercy is given to those who deserve it.
Finnick ignores the prosthetic - and the other leg, too, because he knows that calling attention to either makes Peeta self-conscious - and places a kiss straight to the head of Peeta's swollen cock.
He crawls up Peeta's body, the locket dangling from his neck as he straddles Peeta's hips and leans in for more kisses.
Peeta takes the locket in his hand, eyes on Finnick's as he asks, "Do you really like it?"
Finnick nearly cried when the locket arrived at his suite in the complex, no trinket meant to flaunt or indebt or seduce, just to comfort and please, and the nervousness in Peeta now could very well tighten his throat again.
What will he do without his love in his life? If it weren't for Snow's words, just after the boy from District 12 announced to Cesar that he and Katniss would be having a baby if not for the Quarter Quell, perhaps Finnick wouldn't risk finding out.
"They're calling to end this year's Games, you know," Snow said, so cold and yet so intent that Finnick - after everything he's seen - felt his blood run cold. "Your young lover chief among them. I could do it, after all. Give the city another sort of pleasure... The rare opportunity to steal the spotlight for themselves by offering up their own as tributes. What do you think Chairwoman Mellark would think about that, hmm? And how well do you think your little rabble rouser would fare in the arena?"
Finnick has to calm himself by simply not thinking about it whenever the memory returns to him, but it's good that it does. It reminds him that he must fight the system that brought him to Peeta in the first place. Otherwise, they'll never truly have one another. Not while the Capitol owns them both.
"I love it," Finnick says, but not a breath passes before he leans over the locket and Peeta's hand to kiss his lover on the brow and say, "I love you."
"I love you, too. Finnick-"
Finnick swallows any more words, and he rubs his own, hard cock against Peeta's, distracting them both into silence before he lets Peeta's lips free again.
He prepares Peeta slowly and thoroughly, until the boy is tearing at he bedsheets beneath him and writhing, legs spread wantonly and begging to be taken.
Finnick smirks as he pressess Peeta's legs back and positions himself between them.
"I'm going to fuck you so completely... that you can still feel me in you while you're watching me out there."
"Beg me to do it."
Peeta's too far gone not to give him whatever he'd like. "Please..." he breathes.
Finnick pushes in the head of his cock... just the head, and then quickly pulls it back out.
"Please!" Peeta instantly continues. "Please fuck me! Please, Finn..."
Finnick does this several more times, pushing in just a little bit further each time. By the time he slams his hips forward, sinking into Peeta almost all the way, Peeta is begging almost incoherently.
And when Finnick pulls out, again, almost immediately, Peeta's back arches and he shouts. "Please! Finnick, please, please... Fucking fuck me-"
Only once he's been reduced to screaming filth does Finnick give Peeta what he wants. Then he wastes no time driving deep into his lover's body, finding that perfect spot and pounding it relentlessly, long after Peeta's stopped squealing and coming and the whimpering has begun.
Finnick wants Peeta overstimulated. He wants him boneless and nearly weeping when he thrusts in a final time, holds, and finds his own release.
He'll flip Peeta onto his front as soon as he catches his breath again. Finnick will kneel behind him and between his spread legs, drag him up onto his knees by his his hips, and take him again while his cheek is still pressed helplessly into the sweat-damp mattress beneath them. Peeta will moan, and sob, but he'll beg to come again before Finnick will let him. Finnick won't touch his dick otherwise; neither will he allow Peeta to touch himself. He'll work his boy so slowly, he could ask for anything he wants in return for release - but of course, everything Finnick wants is right here, in this bed, letting Finnick ruin him completely.
Before all that, though, Finnick rests, with his head to Peeta's chest, listening to his lover's heart beat. He feels Peeta roll his head towards him and the soft kiss Peeta presses to the top of his head.
If Finnick has his way, he won't live without this in his life. One way or the other.
Finnick wraps a hand, protective already, around the token he'll take into the arena with him and lies with the man it represents.
The Games aren't so frightening when he keeps his mind on the prize of concluding them in his favor.