One might expect that a partner's experience level is the last thing Finnick cares about. Some people who have loads of sex are still shit partners, and some virgins are amazing in bed, simply because they pay attention to their partners and are responsive to their pleasure. Levi is very much that kind of attentive, and Finnick has to swallow another moan against his neck as he explores the same spot again, as though he's a curious scientist probing for response.

Even if it's simply that Levi doesn't want to endure the thought of Finnick's bodily fluids surrounding him in the spring water, Finnick is none the wiser, because his mind goes blank as soon as Levi starts pushing him backward. It's sort of like when a computer has too many tabs open and freezes completely. Levi lifts him so easily, graceful and decisive, and it leaves him breathless.

"Fuck," he exhales again, starting to sound like a broken record, feeling dizzy. His real hand cards into the hair at the top of Levi's head and grip it gently as he pulls him back in. The kiss Finnick delivers is more open and messy now, his tongue blindly searching for Levi's mouth before it even gets there. Between kisses, a quiet "please" is whimpered.