The words make him snort, amused, and he starts to give Finnick's cock a thorough stroking. It changes quickly to a soft hiss, more for the lips at the spot on his throat than anything else, but that hand sends a shiver of arousal up his spine. It isn't so strange to him to be touched with a hand of metal, given that Erwin has something similar, although he usually can't get it wet.

"M'not doin anything," he mutters lightly, tilting his chin skyward, eyes sliding closed. His hand moves from hip to sink into blonde curls again with a soft sigh. "Your cock s'just all excited." And who's to say his own isn't getting there, too? He manages to keep focused, stroking Finnick at a steady rate, feeling his shape and length, and perhaps wonders how it would feel between his thighs.