A two chapter fanfic, including a Petris lemon. Hope you enjoy :)

I'm standing next to a bar. The Dauntless bartender flips various drinks like some sort of wizard. I watch him in amusement as I lean against the tall metal stool. He has tattoos all over his face, including piercings here and there.

The heavy music blasts from every direction, even though there is only one large speaker in the room. I turn my head over my shoulder to see Christina grinding against Will. Boy, have they gotten close. A bunch of other new Dauntless members invade the dance floor, some with drinks in their hands.

Me being me, I chose to get away from all this. In my opinion it is embarrassing enough that I am wearing a knee high dress. Although, I did insist on buying the black, sleeve one; against Christina's complaints.

I don't see Four. The only leader who stands out to me is Eric. And that makes a shiver run down my spine.

The Dauntless leaders decided to throw a party for the new members, and here we all are. Dancing, drinking, making out with strangers on the top floor of a building I haven't noticed before in my life. I cast my glance down at the floor and notice my tattoo standing out against my pale flesh in the corner of my eye. This dress is more revealing than I'd like it to be. I bet Peter will have fun making jokes of me being a typical Stiff.

As if on cue, Peter appears behind me, looking pleased with himself.

"Two shots of patron. Straight up." I feel the ghost of his hand on the small of my back as he sits down on a stool next to me, nodding casually. "Don't you Stiffs know how to loosen up?"

I roll my eyes in frustration and smile sarcastically, turning my head to look at him. "I wouldn't call getting drunk and ending up jumping out of the window loosening up." Yes, there was one guy who did that a couple years before. Not entirely sure how true the rumor is though.

"Welcome to Dauntless." He smirks and puts his arms on the bar. The music is so loud, we have to yell. And the flashing lights blind me.

I glance up as the bartender slams the two drinks in front of us and I look at Peter. He shrugs a shoulder as he takes his glass.

"Give it a go." He raises his glass to me as if to toast something. I have a feeling this will end badly.

Nevertheless, I grab my drink and dodge the lime stuck onto the side of the glass before sipping slowly. It tastes like hell. I end up coughing and waving a hand in front of my mouth. I can hear Peter laugh.

"Drink it faster!" He says. "And then suck on this." I look at the lime he took off my glass as he gestures it to me. My mouth is burning.

"No, I don't think so..." I shake my head and turn away, doing my best to ignore him. Does he think what happened between us is in the past? If you ask me, I can still feel a sting every time I put a hand on my rib cage.

"Aren't you Dauntless?" His voice irritates me.

"Why don't you go and shove this drink down someone else's throat?" I reply, glaring at the people on the dance floor absentmindedly.

"Why would I when I can do this with you?" I can tell he is smirking as he says that.

To my surprise, the drink is now pressed against my chest and I snatch it away from his hand in shock. Does he ever give up? Alright, I have to remember what Four said. I need to seem like I'm not afraid.

I gulp it down quickly, trying to ignore the burning sensation travelling from my mouth, down my throat and into my stomach. Against my will, tears spring to my eyes and I close them, putting a hand over my mouth.

"Woo! Yeah, Stiff!" I hear someone yell from the distance and turn away, putting my head on the bar. Peter's hand rubs my back.

"Ready for round two?" He says. I almost laugh in disbelief but even that hurts.

"No." I manage to croak out as I straighten my back. Though I can't deny that through the pain, it feels pretty good now.

"How about a different drink? More juice." Finally I look up at Peter's smirking expression. Before I can reply, he is handing me a new drink. The color is bright orange. But there is less substance in this glass.

I take it from him and sip it cautiously. Delight comes over me as I realize that it isn't too strong. I sip more when I find out it has a soothing impact on my throat.

"See? Not bad." He sits back in his stool and rests his elbow on the counter. He downs his glass like its water. "Who knew a Stiff could actually drink?"

After a couple more drinks, I start to feel lightheaded. Whenever Peter jokes, I laugh; like he is not the guy who tried to kill two people. But he is funny.

I rest my chin in the palm of my hand when the songs become catchier and Dauntless members cheer in approval. This is my family. This is who I belong with.

Before I can register what is happening, Peter has grabbed my hand and dragged me out into the crowd of bouncing people. I wonder how he can keep his balance after so many drinks. I, on the other hand, have trouble standing straight.

"I'm not dancing!" I yell as we get closer to the speakers. He pulls me into his arms forcefully and grips my hips. Firmly. It makes it easier to stand.

'"I'm not asking!"' is what I get in response. And then it begins.

If this is how you are supposed to dance, it makes Peter a professional. His hips move in rhythm to the music. I find this so out of character that I laugh erupts from deep within me. He presses his hips against mine which makes me mimic his movements. I don't even make an effort.

I glance at Christina who is giving me a questioning look, and I shrug a shoulder before a crowd of people blocks my view of her.

It is easier to keep balance when I lean in close, I figured. So I wrap my arms around Peter's neck and try not to look at his face as we move in sync. My feet are having trouble finding space on the floor, among hundreds of other feet. This is all too new.

I look over Peter's shoulder at Uriah and Zeke, who are trying to balance knives on their faces. I laugh in amusement. This causes Peter look down at me and smirk even wider. I suppose I should try and like him. We are in the same faction. And we will be close.

"I knew you'd like this." His voice is quieter. And I realize that is because his mouth is right near my ear. I bite my lip.

Suddenly, I feel one of Peter's hands trail down my thigh and back up to my ass. A shudder goes through me and I stiffen, looking down to where the gap between our bodies should be. But it's not. We are way too close.

I think Peter notices my frigidness as his hand is back on my hip. "How about another drink?"

"Sure." Why am I agreeing to this? Maybe because I feel adventurous; I've never felt anything like this in my life.

He walks behind me with his hand on my back as I lead the way back to the bar.

Please review :)