Perhaps one of his larger struggles is making it believable that he does enjoy those seemingly one-sided activities. Levi's not always good with his words, so often relies on his actions to speak for themselves, but sometimes it isn't enough. It's also habit, after so many years now, to consider himself secondary to almost everything else. He can survive on little, is still, in some ways, not used to wanting things, let alone expressing those wants. In his mind, it should be clear how much he loves and wants Erwin, but every now and then when they do find their way to something sexual, Levi thinks he sees doubt in those blue eyes, and it ties his insides into knots.

He and Finnick are still figuring each other out, still learning, yet part of the issue is that he's still learning about himself as well, and not sure whether or not some of the things he likes are entirely him or because it was Erwin, or some combination of things. Levi's not a very vocal person, but he's starting to realize that if Finnick is following his lead and his signals...it might help to make them more noticeable. As intuitive as he is, they don't have years of shared companionship to draw on. It's new...and while there's excitement there as a result, there's also a little bit of nervousness.

It's that attentive sweetness that melts him. The caress, the push of fingertips makes him release a sigh of pleasure (fuck, he could use a massage) as he leans closer into Finnick, nearly chest to chest as his chin tilts upward to offer up his throat. Those expert lips find that spot Finnick had brushed earlier, somewhere just below the juncture of his jaw, and Levi can't stop the shudder that shivers down his spine, accompanying a sharp inhale of breath.

At some point, his arms wind around the younger man. One palm slides across strong shoulders, feeling the way muscle moves beneath skin. Levi doesn't ordinarily notice physique all that much...until he already has interest, and he won't even bother trying to deny to himself that Finnick's obvious strength does something for him. He reciprocates that press of fingers, tracing vertebrae, scraping nails lightly. The other, predictably, slides into those blonde curls he's come to enjoy so much, twisting them around his fingers, tugging just a little just for the sensation, rather than to distract Finnick from what he's doing.

He hums, low and pleased, eyes finally drifting closed...and shifts his thigh to press a little more against Finnick's flourishing cock, offering some friction.