I see nothing in your eyes // And the more I see, the less I like
Title: Don't Say I Never Did Anything For You
Characters: Finnick Odair and Johanna Mason
'Verse: underworldwars
Rating: PG-13
“Finnick! Finnick!” Her fists beat at his back, but there's nothing he can do about it, not when he's got one arm wrapped around her legs to keep them from causing damage, and the other on her back to keep her from getting loose. It doesn't her stop her thrashing, like a wild animal caught in a cage. “I will fucking rip your throat out if you don't put me down right now!”
Finnick knows when she spots the tub because she fights harder, clawing at his back.
“Not the water! You fucking piece of shit, don't put me in the water!”
“I'm not,” he tells her sharply, all of his energy in going into dragging her off his back this time around. They've passed the tub; his hands on her shoulders and forcing her down into a chair. “You cannot keep going around like this. You smell.”
“Oh, fuck off,” Johanna growls, attempting to get out of the chair.
But Finnick is strong-maybe she's forgotten that fact-and shoves her back down. “I'm serious.”
She stares at him, eyes narrowed in fury before she finally glances at the tub, and he sees the hesitation on her face, the flash of fear in her eyes. “Don't make me get in there, Finnick.”
He feigns a hurt look, stepping back from her, pressing a hand to his heart. “It hurts that you don't trust me enough, Johanna. Really. I'm not going to do that to you.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a sponge, waving it in her face. “Behold, the invention of the sponge bath. Not as glamorous as a shower, but you're not making any of this easy.”
“You're serious.” It's not a question. She can tell he is as he takes the time to walk to the small tub of water, dips the sponge in, rings it out, and walks back over to her. Her eyebrows come together, and he smiles at her. Not one of his charming smiles, but a real one reserved for his friends, for the people he actually cares about. “Whatever, just get it over with.”
He shakes his head at her and begins the slow, tedious process. They let silence fall over them, comfortable, soothing. The two of them have no need to talk, and Finnick has to wonder what conversation they could have. What they have in common is something they won't talk about, don't actually need to.
So he washes her carefully, and she sits there stiffly, occasionally glancing at him as he walks back and forth.
“You're a moron.” Johanna says it softly though, without bite, and it makes him smile.
“But at least I'll be able to breathe freely when we're in bed.”
The punch to his back sends him stumbling, a choked laugh catching in his throat as he throws the wet sponge at her face.
Characters: Finnick Odair and Johanna Mason
'Verse: underworldwars
Rating: PG-13
“Finnick! Finnick!” Her fists beat at his back, but there's nothing he can do about it, not when he's got one arm wrapped around her legs to keep them from causing damage, and the other on her back to keep her from getting loose. It doesn't her stop her thrashing, like a wild animal caught in a cage. “I will fucking rip your throat out if you don't put me down right now!”
Finnick knows when she spots the tub because she fights harder, clawing at his back.
“Not the water! You fucking piece of shit, don't put me in the water!”
“I'm not,” he tells her sharply, all of his energy in going into dragging her off his back this time around. They've passed the tub; his hands on her shoulders and forcing her down into a chair. “You cannot keep going around like this. You smell.”
“Oh, fuck off,” Johanna growls, attempting to get out of the chair.
But Finnick is strong-maybe she's forgotten that fact-and shoves her back down. “I'm serious.”
She stares at him, eyes narrowed in fury before she finally glances at the tub, and he sees the hesitation on her face, the flash of fear in her eyes. “Don't make me get in there, Finnick.”
He feigns a hurt look, stepping back from her, pressing a hand to his heart. “It hurts that you don't trust me enough, Johanna. Really. I'm not going to do that to you.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a sponge, waving it in her face. “Behold, the invention of the sponge bath. Not as glamorous as a shower, but you're not making any of this easy.”
“You're serious.” It's not a question. She can tell he is as he takes the time to walk to the small tub of water, dips the sponge in, rings it out, and walks back over to her. Her eyebrows come together, and he smiles at her. Not one of his charming smiles, but a real one reserved for his friends, for the people he actually cares about. “Whatever, just get it over with.”
He shakes his head at her and begins the slow, tedious process. They let silence fall over them, comfortable, soothing. The two of them have no need to talk, and Finnick has to wonder what conversation they could have. What they have in common is something they won't talk about, don't actually need to.
So he washes her carefully, and she sits there stiffly, occasionally glancing at him as he walks back and forth.
“You're a moron.” Johanna says it softly though, without bite, and it makes him smile.
“But at least I'll be able to breathe freely when we're in bed.”
The punch to his back sends him stumbling, a choked laugh catching in his throat as he throws the wet sponge at her face.