Even as Finnick sways, he stays upright, easily taking his weight. If he notices anything strange about the shape of said boxers, Levi doesn't comment on it - so he probably is too focused on getting him safely to the bathroom instead. One arm goes bracingly around Finnick's waist, and he feels warm pressed close as they shuffle there together.
As he pisses, Levi turns his back and steps out a little, just to give him a bit of privacy even if it's not strictly needed.
"Yeah, you should," he agrees over his shoulder. "And eat something. I've got something that should work. I'll get it for you when you're back in bed."
"Alright," he murmurs, standing up with another grunt. He looks in the bathroom mirror, leaning on the sink. It's dimly lit by fairy-lights, but he can see himself, and isn't fond of the image. He sighs heavily.
"I do look like shit," he grumbles, wetting a cloth in the sink and starting to clean himself up with his 'good' hand.
"You went through shit. Makes sense." It's hardly a judgment, after all. Hearing the water run, he glances back over his shoulder before turning back around, watching Finnick for a moment or two, debating on whether or not to offer to help. He's long been in the habit with Erwin to not assume he wants assistance with every little thing, and has to believe Finnick is much the same way. But he also knows that soldiers and people who are used to doing everything on their own often hate or forget to ask for help; he's much the same way, after all.
He also doesn't want to wander away only for Finnick fall on the floor.
"...let me know if you want an extra hand," Levi offers from the doorway. It's not intended to be funny necessarily, but he'll be there whenever the other man is ready to shuffle back to bed - except that he'll deposit Finnick carefully in a chair with a glass of water to sip at while he strips the dirty sheets off the bed and lay down fresh ones. Only then will he permit him to get back in.
He rubs the cloth on his face and behind his ears, but the metal hand doesn't feel very nice, and isn't as effective at such a task. It's rarely as effective as a real hand at anything, except it is a bit stronger.
"If it's one of yours, I'd welcome it," he mutters, definitely not inclined to ask for help but not willing to refuse it either, especially when it involves Levi touching him.
"Lucky for you, I've got two." There's enough deadpan in his tone that it's likely that is meant to be funny. But without any further ado or especial fussing, Levi sets the cover over the toilet (using a bit of toilet paper so that he doesn't have to actually touch it), and then a towel over that before ushering Finnick to sit and taking the cloth from him. He takes a minute to wash his hands, and then lets the cloth soak up some warm water before wringing it out again. A step brings him back over, standing between his legs.
Finnick had already done his face, but Levi starts there again anyway. Nudging his chin upward, gray eyes linger on aquamarine, and it's a little like looking at the sea on a bright, cloudless day. It's not hard to see how tired he is yet. Really, the man could do with a proper bath, but it's not possible yet with some of those wounds yet healing. This will have to do.
"Let me know if it's too hot," he mumbles before starting. Perhaps surprisingly, he's gentle - but there's yet a thoroughness and a method to his movements, ensuring he can clean as much skin as he can reach. One hand cleans, the other carefully guides Finnick to move his head from side to side, chin up and down. There's tenderness in the way his touch lingers, tracing softly over an eyebrow or along a cheekbone, moving over a scar on his throat.
Erasing scars, as though they could erase the horrors they'd inflicted on him.
He sets the thought aside, moving the cloth to trace over the curve of one shoulder, then the other, before stepping back to the sink to rinse and wring. The arm comes next, and Levi starts with Finnick's hand, wiping down the palm, then each finger, cleaning under the nail and around the nailbed. Even in these moments of focus, he flicks his gaze towards Finnick's face every so often, to check for signs of pain, or if holding himself upright is getting to be too much.
"...you have nice hands," he says quietly, before moving on to his upper arm. At least he's got one left.
Finnick exhales a quiet, breathy laugh at that. It hurts less to laugh now.
"Well, now you're just rubbing it in," he mutters jokingly in response. He sits on the toilet and watches Levi closely, staring up into his gray eyes unblinkingly as the older man begins to clean his face. The look in his eyes portrays a complete trust in Levi, and a sort of reverence.
The way he touches Finnick seems to encapsulate Levi. He's meticulous, he's neurotic about cleanliness, he's utterly caring and kind and protective, and all of that translates through his movements. Even with a blank face, his touch communicates that Finnick is something precious to him, and Finnick actually feels that way. He rarely, if ever, has been sent the message that his body is worth caring for, for its own sake. Even the Capitol fixing his wounds and erasing his scars and bathing him and putting him in makeup and beautiful clothing was only so he would be appealing and palatable to the rich, since they can't swallow anything unsightly or disabled by the abuses they've suffered. It was not done out of care for him. It was done to make him a product, an expensive one, to be consumed and used over and over and over. Levi cleans him simply so that he doesn't have to feel dirty, so that he doesn't have to see his own blood again, so that he can feel more comfortable, so that his wounds don't get infected. He's not attentive to the task as though Finnick is a thing to be cleaned, the way the Capitol stylists would pluck out hairs without a word of warning, wax you while talking to their coworker about their vacation like you're not even there. Levi puts effort into making sure he doesn't hurt Finnick, so that it can feel nice as well as serve a practical purpose.
In this moment, a small part of Finnick is healed by a warm cloth and gentle hands, and a small part of him wants to cry a thousand tears until his body aches and shakes and collapses from exhaustion, because it's perhaps only now when he's being treated the way a person should that it truly hits him just how dehumanized he felt before.
Levi tells him he has nice hands, and Finnick thinks, I love you. He doesn't say it. Not yet.
He just says, "Do I? I mean, of course I do. I know that." With a wry little smile. Of course, every part of Finnick's body is perfect and beautiful and he's never thought or felt any other way about it. He's never loathed his own beauty or scrubbed his skin raw in the shower.
His arm and hand are still quite stiff, and he grimaces slightly as he tries to move it, tries to clench and unclench his fist. Too sore, and it barely has half his range of motion, so he just moves it as much as is needed to clean it properly. Levi isn't hurting him.
Finnick is precious to him, in a way hadn't expected to experience so easily, so quickly. In spite of the way he'd been abused, there's still an incredible air of confidence about him, a warmth and brightness and a passion that Levi feels drawn to. It doesn't hurt that he's nice to look at, but that sort of thing he's never really noticed in most people, except for after the fact. If it was maybe a less grim of a situation, he might be noticing it more, now.
Cleanliness is not just a matter of trauma and neuroses for Levi. It's also about dignity, and scraping back what has been taken away in whatever way you can. Everyone in the underground had been condemned to live in filth, but he refused. Finnick has had his body used for the base pleasure of others, suffered pain and injury and even death to claw for the survival of people he loved. The very least Levi can do, now, is to help him wash the grime and filth away.
It's clear that the arm is stiff, so he goes slow. He flicks a glance to his face at the little quip, the corner of his lips quirking up just a little.
"Of course you do," he echoes back, voice a touch wry with amusement. There's a small pause, and then he presses a very brief kiss to the middle of Finnick's now clean palm.
It's the last thing he does before stepping back to the sink to rinse and wring and rinse and wring the cloth out and then steps back again, closer this time. One hand settles tenderly at the back of Finnick's neck as he passes the cloth back over his shoulders, drawing in large, slow circles over his back. Perhaps without realizing, his thumb traces a small path back and forth over his skin...just holding him close.
I don't want to lose you. A tiny thought lodges in his heart, but Levi doesn't say that, either. It's a silly hope, in the end. It always is.
Finnick feels that sense of dignity, of respect, whether he has the words for it or not. It's something Finnick practices as well; in times when his appearance is under his own control, getting clean and being well-groomed is a point of pride for him, and a way to feel like he owns his body himself.
He smiles as Levi kisses his palm, a small and sheepish smile that's quite different from his usual confident grin, his blue eyes flashing at Levi's for a brief moment. He watches as Levi diligently wrings the cloth, twice or thrice as much as Finnick would think to, and that small smile stays put.
As Levi washes his back with the warm cloth, Finnick's eyes slip shut, his posture slouching forward in relaxation. His metal hand gently grips Levi's thigh to keep himself upright as he otherwise loses himself in the feeling. He hums softly, feeling sleepy. Feeling safe is rare, even with another person- after all, he was always taught he could truly trust no one, as even your closest allies will turn on you in the arena if it means their survival. But Levi is one of the most steadfast and trustworthy people he knows. It isn't hard to feel safe with him, even after a dragon-chomping.
It's sweet, to see that more vulnerable side peek out. It tempers Finnick's seemingly easy confidence, and perhaps to a degree Levi is still a little surprised when it shows through so earnestly, after how much he's endured. Yet he recognizes that trust well enough, especially as he feels Finnick grow heavier against him as though he's beginning to doze.
Finishing his back, he scrunches gently at those curls to get his attention, muttering at him to not fall asleep just yet, and over the next few minutes finishes giving him a through sponge bath, washing legs and feet before thoroughly rinsing the cloth again and offering Finnick the task to clean his own genitals (if it was Erwin, he would just do it, but he's hardly going to make the same assumption that Finnick wouldn't mind on something like this. But if left to him, it's a distinctly non-sexual thing, though still handled carefully).
Finally finished, Levi rinses and washes out the cloth again, washes his own hands, and then bustles about finding Finnick some clean clothes and helping him into them. He'll settle him into a more comfortable spot while he likewise strips off the dirty bedsheets and puts new ones in place. Only then does he allow Finnick back into the bed, getting him settled once again. After another couple minutes of tidying, Levi comes back to sit close.
There was a time when Finnick was far more guarded, but in the year leading up to his death in Panem, he was shown the importance of relying on others. Both in the sense that people need to cooperate to achieve a common goal, and in the sense that people need each other to survive, to stay sane. For people like Finnick and Levi, who have been through hell and back, that goes double.
He does begin to doze, but the pull of his hair rouses him somewhat, and he tries his best to stay awake as Levi continues to work. If keeping his eyes open and washing his own dick are the only jobs he has while Levi does everything else, he's not going to complain. Frankly, he feels spoiled.
Finally being clean, and being put into clean clothes and clean bedsheets by careful hands, feels amazing. He starts to doze again in the bed, but then Levi sits by him, and Finnick blinks his eyes open as he speaks. He smiles at those words.
"I feel way less like shit. I feel like a new man. Thank you. I--" love you. "... Thank you, Levi."
Still, a wash and fresh linens don't erase the clear exhaustion from his eyes. As much as he would be happy to stay, it'd probably be better to clear off.
"Should let you sleep, that healing is gonna knock you out for a bit." Levi's starting to feel it, too, after pouring so much energy into him and then all of his bustling about just now. He starts tucking the sheets around Finnick a little more.
His tone is sweet, not so hard and grim as it usually is, and it makes Finnick smile softly.
At the question, he opens his mouth, then closes it again, trying to decide if the request is worth making.
"... If you have things to do, don't let me keep you, but... I'd like it if you stayed and laid with me for a little while."
He feels bad to ask anything more of Levi when he's already done so much. The ask feels oddly terrifying to make, especially in his vulnerable state. But perhaps Levi needs some rest too- he doesn't seem to sleep much.
He doesn't sleep much, but that's been true for most of his life.
In spite of everything, the request still surprises him a little. It's just a brief moment of faint confusion before his expression softens again, and he swallows a bit.
"No, I don't have anything else right now."
There's a somewhat awkward pause before Levi gets off the bed and goes over to help himself to one of Finnick's clean shirts before methodically stripping out of his shirt and pants - no outside clothes in the bed he just cleaned, after all, especially since he'd also just helped Finnick wash in them.
Finnick will just have to enjoy his bare legs, since any sleeping pants or whatever he might possibly own would be too big anyway. So after neatly folding his own clothing, Levi will finally, carefully, slide in under the blankets in next to him.
Levi seems to agree to stay, and it's a relief. He watches with slight confusion as Levi changes. While it's certainly normal to wear more comfortable clothing to bed, the act of wearing Finnick's shirt with no pants seems overly familiar for someone like Levi to do at this point in a relationship. The fact that he's doing it for cleanliness reasons is lost on Finnick. Either way, it's not like he minds. He grins as Levi climbs into bed, both because he's very cute dressed like this, and because Finnick is delighted to share a bed with him. He scooches himself as close as he can.
"Just one more thing, sorry," he murmurs. He lifts his metal arm up from under the blankets, toward Levi.
"Will you take this off for me? There's a button there to release."
It'll be hard to get back on himself later, but he'll either ask Levi or Night Sky to help him. For now, he wants to be comfortable.
Well, he had brought other clothes, because injuries are messy and he anticipated getting them dirty, but they're not suitable for sleeping. They've also spent time naked in a hot spring together, has napped against Finnick on the beach in plain view of everyone. It's not all that much of a stretch.
This time, Levi arranges himself so Finnick can rest against him, if it's comfortable. He doesn't even blink or comment at the request, but carefully feels for the button and twists to find a safe spot to carefully lay the arm.
As they finally settle, fingers find their way into those blonde curls again, idly combing through.
It's just so boyfriend, okay!!!!! And that deeply pleases Finnick.
He sighs with relief as the arm is released and pulled off. With that discomfort out of the way, he rolls on his side to face Levi, draping his real arm over him.
"Thank you. Good night," he murmurs, kissing Levi's forehead and closing his eyes, settling in.
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As he pisses, Levi turns his back and steps out a little, just to give him a bit of privacy even if it's not strictly needed.
"Yeah, you should," he agrees over his shoulder. "And eat something. I've got something that should work. I'll get it for you when you're back in bed."
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"I do look like shit," he grumbles, wetting a cloth in the sink and starting to clean himself up with his 'good' hand.
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He also doesn't want to wander away only for Finnick fall on the floor.
"...let me know if you want an extra hand," Levi offers from the doorway. It's not intended to be funny necessarily, but he'll be there whenever the other man is ready to shuffle back to bed - except that he'll deposit Finnick carefully in a chair with a glass of water to sip at while he strips the dirty sheets off the bed and lay down fresh ones. Only then will he permit him to get back in.
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"If it's one of yours, I'd welcome it," he mutters, definitely not inclined to ask for help but not willing to refuse it either, especially when it involves Levi touching him.
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Finnick had already done his face, but Levi starts there again anyway. Nudging his chin upward, gray eyes linger on aquamarine, and it's a little like looking at the sea on a bright, cloudless day. It's not hard to see how tired he is yet. Really, the man could do with a proper bath, but it's not possible yet with some of those wounds yet healing. This will have to do.
"Let me know if it's too hot," he mumbles before starting. Perhaps surprisingly, he's gentle - but there's yet a thoroughness and a method to his movements, ensuring he can clean as much skin as he can reach. One hand cleans, the other carefully guides Finnick to move his head from side to side, chin up and down. There's tenderness in the way his touch lingers, tracing softly over an eyebrow or along a cheekbone, moving over a scar on his throat.
Erasing scars, as though they could erase the horrors they'd inflicted on him.
He sets the thought aside, moving the cloth to trace over the curve of one shoulder, then the other, before stepping back to the sink to rinse and wring. The arm comes next, and Levi starts with Finnick's hand, wiping down the palm, then each finger, cleaning under the nail and around the nailbed. Even in these moments of focus, he flicks his gaze towards Finnick's face every so often, to check for signs of pain, or if holding himself upright is getting to be too much.
"...you have nice hands," he says quietly, before moving on to his upper arm. At least he's got one left.
cw dehumanization, reference of sexual abuse
"Well, now you're just rubbing it in," he mutters jokingly in response. He sits on the toilet and watches Levi closely, staring up into his gray eyes unblinkingly as the older man begins to clean his face. The look in his eyes portrays a complete trust in Levi, and a sort of reverence.
The way he touches Finnick seems to encapsulate Levi. He's meticulous, he's neurotic about cleanliness, he's utterly caring and kind and protective, and all of that translates through his movements. Even with a blank face, his touch communicates that Finnick is something precious to him, and Finnick actually feels that way. He rarely, if ever, has been sent the message that his body is worth caring for, for its own sake. Even the Capitol fixing his wounds and erasing his scars and bathing him and putting him in makeup and beautiful clothing was only so he would be appealing and palatable to the rich, since they can't swallow anything unsightly or disabled by the abuses they've suffered. It was not done out of care for him. It was done to make him a product, an expensive one, to be consumed and used over and over and over. Levi cleans him simply so that he doesn't have to feel dirty, so that he doesn't have to see his own blood again, so that he can feel more comfortable, so that his wounds don't get infected. He's not attentive to the task as though Finnick is a thing to be cleaned, the way the Capitol stylists would pluck out hairs without a word of warning, wax you while talking to their coworker about their vacation like you're not even there. Levi puts effort into making sure he doesn't hurt Finnick, so that it can feel nice as well as serve a practical purpose.
In this moment, a small part of Finnick is healed by a warm cloth and gentle hands, and a small part of him wants to cry a thousand tears until his body aches and shakes and collapses from exhaustion, because it's perhaps only now when he's being treated the way a person should that it truly hits him just how dehumanized he felt before.
Levi tells him he has nice hands, and Finnick thinks, I love you. He doesn't say it. Not yet.
He just says, "Do I? I mean, of course I do. I know that." With a wry little smile. Of course, every part of Finnick's body is perfect and beautiful and he's never thought or felt any other way about it. He's never loathed his own beauty or scrubbed his skin raw in the shower.
His arm and hand are still quite stiff, and he grimaces slightly as he tries to move it, tries to clench and unclench his fist. Too sore, and it barely has half his range of motion, so he just moves it as much as is needed to clean it properly. Levi isn't hurting him.
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Cleanliness is not just a matter of trauma and neuroses for Levi. It's also about dignity, and scraping back what has been taken away in whatever way you can. Everyone in the underground had been condemned to live in filth, but he refused. Finnick has had his body used for the base pleasure of others, suffered pain and injury and even death to claw for the survival of people he loved. The very least Levi can do, now, is to help him wash the grime and filth away.
It's clear that the arm is stiff, so he goes slow. He flicks a glance to his face at the little quip, the corner of his lips quirking up just a little.
"Of course you do," he echoes back, voice a touch wry with amusement. There's a small pause, and then he presses a very brief kiss to the middle of Finnick's now clean palm.
It's the last thing he does before stepping back to the sink to rinse and wring and rinse and wring the cloth out and then steps back again, closer this time. One hand settles tenderly at the back of Finnick's neck as he passes the cloth back over his shoulders, drawing in large, slow circles over his back. Perhaps without realizing, his thumb traces a small path back and forth over his skin...just holding him close.
I don't want to lose you. A tiny thought lodges in his heart, but Levi doesn't say that, either. It's a silly hope, in the end. It always is.
But he'll hold onto him while he can.
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He smiles as Levi kisses his palm, a small and sheepish smile that's quite different from his usual confident grin, his blue eyes flashing at Levi's for a brief moment. He watches as Levi diligently wrings the cloth, twice or thrice as much as Finnick would think to, and that small smile stays put.
As Levi washes his back with the warm cloth, Finnick's eyes slip shut, his posture slouching forward in relaxation. His metal hand gently grips Levi's thigh to keep himself upright as he otherwise loses himself in the feeling. He hums softly, feeling sleepy. Feeling safe is rare, even with another person- after all, he was always taught he could truly trust no one, as even your closest allies will turn on you in the arena if it means their survival. But Levi is one of the most steadfast and trustworthy people he knows. It isn't hard to feel safe with him, even after a dragon-chomping.
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Finishing his back, he scrunches gently at those curls to get his attention, muttering at him to not fall asleep just yet, and over the next few minutes finishes giving him a through sponge bath, washing legs and feet before thoroughly rinsing the cloth again and offering Finnick the task to clean his own genitals (if it was Erwin, he would just do it, but he's hardly going to make the same assumption that Finnick wouldn't mind on something like this. But if left to him, it's a distinctly non-sexual thing, though still handled carefully).
Finally finished, Levi rinses and washes out the cloth again, washes his own hands, and then bustles about finding Finnick some clean clothes and helping him into them. He'll settle him into a more comfortable spot while he likewise strips off the dirty bedsheets and puts new ones in place. Only then does he allow Finnick back into the bed, getting him settled once again. After another couple minutes of tidying, Levi comes back to sit close.
"There. Now you look less like shit."
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He does begin to doze, but the pull of his hair rouses him somewhat, and he tries his best to stay awake as Levi continues to work. If keeping his eyes open and washing his own dick are the only jobs he has while Levi does everything else, he's not going to complain. Frankly, he feels spoiled.
Finally being clean, and being put into clean clothes and clean bedsheets by careful hands, feels amazing. He starts to doze again in the bed, but then Levi sits by him, and Finnick blinks his eyes open as he speaks. He smiles at those words.
"I feel way less like shit. I feel like a new man. Thank you. I--" love you. "... Thank you, Levi."
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Still, a wash and fresh linens don't erase the clear exhaustion from his eyes. As much as he would be happy to stay, it'd probably be better to clear off.
"Should let you sleep, that healing is gonna knock you out for a bit." Levi's starting to feel it, too, after pouring so much energy into him and then all of his bustling about just now. He starts tucking the sheets around Finnick a little more.
"Need anything else?"
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At the question, he opens his mouth, then closes it again, trying to decide if the request is worth making.
"... If you have things to do, don't let me keep you, but... I'd like it if you stayed and laid with me for a little while."
He feels bad to ask anything more of Levi when he's already done so much. The ask feels oddly terrifying to make, especially in his vulnerable state. But perhaps Levi needs some rest too- he doesn't seem to sleep much.
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In spite of everything, the request still surprises him a little. It's just a brief moment of faint confusion before his expression softens again, and he swallows a bit.
"No, I don't have anything else right now."
There's a somewhat awkward pause before Levi gets off the bed and goes over to help himself to one of Finnick's clean shirts before methodically stripping out of his shirt and pants - no outside clothes in the bed he just cleaned, after all, especially since he'd also just helped Finnick wash in them.
Finnick will just have to enjoy his bare legs, since any sleeping pants or whatever he might possibly own would be too big anyway. So after neatly folding his own clothing, Levi will finally, carefully, slide in under the blankets in next to him.
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"Just one more thing, sorry," he murmurs. He lifts his metal arm up from under the blankets, toward Levi.
"Will you take this off for me? There's a button there to release."
It'll be hard to get back on himself later, but he'll either ask Levi or Night Sky to help him. For now, he wants to be comfortable.
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This time, Levi arranges himself so Finnick can rest against him, if it's comfortable. He doesn't even blink or comment at the request, but carefully feels for the button and twists to find a safe spot to carefully lay the arm.
As they finally settle, fingers find their way into those blonde curls again, idly combing through.
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He sighs with relief as the arm is released and pulled off. With that discomfort out of the way, he rolls on his side to face Levi, draping his real arm over him.
"Thank you. Good night," he murmurs, kissing Levi's forehead and closing his eyes, settling in.
In under a minute, he's out like a light.