The kiss fills him with a warm relief, the kind you get from kissing someone you thought you might never see again. His brush with death makes it taste all the more sweet to be alive, to be touched again by this lovely man. His lips linger as long as Levi will let them.

"Mm. Please." Finnick nods, more than willing to let Levi cut away his bindings and his dirty shirt. He slowly props himself on his prosthetic arm as Levi works, making it easier for him to pull things out from underneath him. He winces a little at his own movement, but compared to just a few minutes ago when sitting up felt near impossible, he'll take this level of pain any day.

He gingerly moves his injured arm a little, freeing it from its held position against his chest and flexing his fingers gently. It complains a bit at the movement and feels very stiff, but probably no longer needs the same level of immobilization.

"I don't think the universe wants me to have working arms," he jokes. He looks up at Levi, whose grey eyes are tracing his abdomen, and a tiny smirk pulls at Finnick's lips.

"Don't get too distracted, Doctor Levi," he murmurs, though his seductive tone suggests he'd actually be perfectly fine with distracting him.