Disclaimer: This story is not intended, in any way, for profit or any other sort of remuneration. All creative rights to the characters and the world of The Hunger Games belongs to Suzanne Collins.
A/N: This story is unbeta'ed and English is not my native language, so I apologize for any mistakes there could be. If someone is interested in beta-reading my Hunger Games content, please let me know.
Free Evening
(25 years old)
Peeta's POV
Today I finished early. Not because there wasn't work to do or clients to attend, but because I had finally delegated on Bruce the run of the bakery. He had almost thrown me out of the place, seeing how I was reluctant to go, not convinced of leaving him alone. He kept repeating he didn't need me there, that he knew how to do everything, that the bakery was in good hands. Before I knew it, I was out in the street looking at the facade of my working place, noticing how people were walking by me.
I still remember the day I met Bruce a couple of years ago. I was actually helping rebuild some houses for families that were to come to District Twelve. He came that day to help as well. A thin, tall, young adult with short dark hair and pale skin. I didn't notice him until I heard him speak.
"What I miss? I miss my mother's bread," he said looking to the ground, his expression unreadable. He was collecting some planks from the floor, working close to the person he was talking to, Rob, one of the first men that had returned home. "I miss all her cooking, but specially the bread," he continued. "Thank heavens I learned from her while I still had time," he finished with a sad smile looking at his partner. Rob, older and rugged, slapped him on the shoulder and squeezed gently, sharing in his loss.
"You'll have to let me try one day, hmm? One of your dishes, or maybe some bread?" voiced Rob cleaning his sweaty forehead with his hand.
The younger one agreed merrily, happy to have found someone interested in something he loved.
"You like to bake?" I asked suddenly, interrupting their conversation, unable to stop myself.
Bruce turned to look at me and for a moment, he looked shocked, recognizing who I was. I guess participating in two Hunger Games broadcasted on national television made it hard for anyone not to recognize me.
"Oh, look who's heard you? The town's baker!" shouted Rob smiling in my direction. "Are you worried you may have competition, Mellark?" he joked leaning on the shovel he had been using to clean the debris that was in this area. I smirked a little. "Peeta, this is Bruce, a newcomer from Thirteen. Bruce, this is..."
"I know who he is," the boy spoke quickly before Rob could finish. "Hi, I'm Bruce Cormack," he introduced himself stretching his hand towards me. I shook it, noticing how the shocked expression had vanished and now there was a look of admiration. "And yes, I like to bake", he answered with a beaming smile.
That was our beginning, of Bruce and I. The next day I invited him to the unfinished bakery. It was still being rebuilt, although it had all the necessary parts to operate. He seemed impressed, even though there wasn't much to be impressed about. It was right there that I started to see that Bruce didn't need much to be satisfied, which is how I felt about many things in life. I asked him to make a loaf of bread, to which he accepted. While he was working in the backroom, me pacing the room watching him mix the ingredients, I couldn't help smile to myself. He knew what he was doing, and most importantly, he was enjoying it. If I couldn't see a talent right there in front of my eyes, then I couldn't have survived two arenas.
I offered him a job that evening, as my assistant, convinced that he would be just what I needed. Lately I had been feeling how work was picking up, due to the arrival of more people to the district. The bakery was in no way operating at a hundred percent, and I had a hunch that District Twelve was going to bloom in the following years. So I was going to need someone to help me, or it was going to be too much.
"But I don't know how to make pastries, or cakes..." Bruce said overwhelmed, almost shyly.
"It doesn't matter, I'll show you," I replied calmly. "For now you have the most important things to start, eagerness and the basics. The rest will come naturally, you'll see."
The young boy nodded, hesitant between showing how content he was or acting more serious, more adult like.
"See you tomorrow morning then?" I asked when we were at the entrance, the bakery already closed. He nodded once again mumbling a nervous "Thank you" and left, making a winning movement with his arm when he was about the end of the street. I was glad to have made his day.
Now I was at home with a free evening on my hands. The house was empty when I arrived, which didn't surprised me. Nobody was expecting me at this time of the day. I went upstairs to my bedroom and took a shower. It was when I was coming out of the bathroom that I heard her.
"Peeta?" she said coming up the stairs unsure of someone answering.
"Yes?" I replied drying my hair with a towel, stepping out towards the bed. I had put on a white bathrobe for my body.
She appeared under the threshold of the door with a surprised expression on her face. "What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be in the bakery?" she asked getting closer. Now I was seated at the end of the bed, drying my legs and feet.
"Good to see you too" I greeted sarcastically.
"Oh, c'mon... You know I'm glad to have you here," Katniss answered quickly coming to sit by me on the matress. "It's just that it is weird to see you here at this time of the day." She held my arm lovingly, offering me a nice small smile. Then her face changed, looking worried. "Did something happened? Do you feel well?"
I knew why she was asking. Most of the other times I had come home early were because I'd had an outbreak, a consequence of my hijacking by the Capitol. The attacks normally happened more at home and in her presence than away and in front of others. In any case, it always worried her.
"I'm fine," I reassured her dropping the towel and taking her smaller but callused hands. "I just left Bruce running the bakery."
"You did? Finally?" her voice sounded surprised and joyful. "He's very talented and capable. I'm sure he'll do great."
"I know, I think the same way," I agreed with her while our hands kept playing with each other's.
"And..." she started, the corners of her mouth lifting, "he learned from the best." Then she kissed me in the neck, just right under my jaw.
"Thank you," I replied sincerely.
Katniss truly appreciated my skills as a baker, not only because I could make cookies, cheese buns, cakes and other sorts of pastries delicacies that she loved, but because I could make good bread, a symbol that represented so much to her. She treasured my hands. According to her words, I could 'create life with them.' A lot of it had to do with what I made her feel with them when we slept together. But a greater deal had to do with how I was able to create and build things. Food, paintings, drawings, houses and buildings down in the town, it all came from my hands. And so, she always reminded me how much she liked them, as she was doing now, massaging them.
"How has your day been so far?" I questioned.
"Good. I went hunting this morning. Then I went to see Mrs. Denald and Mr. Hillack. Now I just came back from visiting Greasy Sae and her granddaughter. How was your's?"
"We did pretty well this morning. Slowed down afterwards." I said referring to the quantity of bread loaves and pastries Bruce and I had sold at the bakery.
"And what were you planning to do now?" She stopped massaging my hands, and so I went for her braid, which was resting on top of her shoulder. I started playing with the hair at the end of it.
"I had two options in mind. The first one was to continue the painting I've been working on lately, the second was to go out to look for you and do something together outdoors. If you felt like it, of course." It had been some time since we had gone for a walk or visited the woods together.
"Well, I think I have a better one." Katniss stood up, interrupting my game with the braid, and got into my personal space, sitting on my good leg, the right one. She hugged me and stroked my wet hair out of my forehead.
"You do?" I said playing dumb. This was getting interesting.
"Yes," she said sensually. "I have you here, all for myself, and for once during the evening, and not only at night." Never count our free evenings during the weekends. "I'm planning to enjoy you as much as I can." Katniss kissed my cheek and moved one hand under my bathrobe to caress my shoulder. "I hope you can do the same."
"Always," I replied inhaling her earthly smell and seeing how the warm sunrays of May that came through the window bathed her skin.
That answer made her still. In the end, she still remembered. She looked at me with a world of emotions on her eyes, the dominant ones being love and gratitude. She had confessed to me time ago she couldn't understand how I could love her so purely, so genuinely, without barriers or obstacles. Well, my hijacking had been a big obstacle, one I still had to fight sometimes. But not even that had deterred my immense love for her.
She began to kiss me slowly, her hands opening my bathrobe, leaving my torso exposed.
That time I had answered her why I love her so much. There were so many reasons I couldn't stop naming them, but I made her remember the important ones.
"Why do I love you, Katniss?" I asked, starting a dialogue we had played many times before. I felt her smiling lips against my neck.
"Because I'm special to you," she answered between the kisses she was dropping along my neck and shoulder. One of her hands was exploring my back, the other one my abdomen. Mine were just holding her, resting around her waist.
"Why else?"
"Because I'm beautiful on the inside as well as on the outside," she replied licking and nipping my earlobe.
"Keep going," I encouraged her. I wasn't sure if I meant the talking or her ministrations on me. Probably both.
"Then lay down on the bed," she whispered before standing up in front of me. She started to remove her boots and socks; the pants followed after.
I did as she said, dragging myself towards the headboard of the bed. I didcarded the bathrobe, which ended laying half on top of the mattress, half on the floor. Leaning on my elbows, I observed her coming towards me, first getting on top of the bed, then crawling until she was straddling me. Her naked legs glued my attention right away. I adored them, their strength and how well shaped they were. Once she was seated on top of me, she took off her light sweater, her eyes never breaking contact with mine. Now she only had on a brown t-shirt and her white underwear.
As soon as the sweater hit the ground she was kissing me again, fiercely this time. I could feel her impetuosity in the way her lips and tongue devoured mine. Her fingers caressed my jaw and the back of my neck, but they soon changed their destinations, first going for my still damp hair, then my arms, and at last my chest.
"Keep going," I repeated when she let me grasp a little bit of air. I stopped leaning on my elbows and instead rested my head on the pillow. My hands went for her thighs, discovering again their velvet smoothness.
"Because I'm..." she was looking into my eyes, the symptoms of arousal showing on her face: rosy cheeks, inflamed lips, dilated pupils. "Because I'm a strong, intelligent... independent and brave woman."
"Yes, you are," I declared while my hands went for the hem of the brown t-shirt to remove it. She didn't oppose, instead putting her arms up so I could take it off of her. I ended up sitting, encircling her in my arms. "But there's more, isn't there?"
She nodded, giving me a peck on the nose and then a tempting smile. Her hands went to her back to unlatch the bra. I helped her until the garment was out of our way.
"Tell me," I demanded when my hands cupped her breasts, gaining a pleasured sigh from her lips. I squeezed and made my thumbs find her already erect nipples. I kissed her on the mouth, eager for her to continue telling me why I loved her so much. "Tell me. You know the reasons." Then my lips started to go south, down a path already walked before. Her appetizing neck, her damaged shoulder, her soft collarbone, and finally her rounded and full breasts.
"Because you... you can be yourself with me."
I listened to her agitated breathing, a swirl of satisfaction travelling through my body. My hands, relegated to a second place, were now at her back, pressing her into me. My lips, together with my tongue, were doing marvelous things on her bosom, making her gasp. Her hands had been on my shoulders, but at one moment she couldn't stand it anymore and grabbed my head so I wouldn't go anywhere else.
"And?" I pressed looking up at her once, then returning to the adoration of her breasts with kisses, sucks, mischievious bites and long licks.
"Because... because..." Katniss didn't say anything else, although her pants kept delighting my ears, which meant I was doing my job very well. But still...
"Because...?" I insisted. My hands wandered down slipping underneath her panties, grabbing her bottom. I was more than ready to take them off of her and she sensed it. Her hands went for the white underwear, starting to bring them down. I separated from her, to give her more space to move. That only earned me a complained sound when I stopped touching her so passionately. Even then, she still answered me before moving to the side so she could take her panties off.
"Because we grew together through the worst, and still found a way to be... happy."
"Yes, that's right," I said while helping her slide the intimate garment slowly between her legs.
Katniss straddled me again, this time pushing me on the chest to lie down. That didn't stop my hands from holding her hips.
"Because I make you feel alive," she smirked, both of her hands resting on each side of the pillow, her grey eyes lighted up with desire. I bucked my hips upwards once, so she could feel how alive I was.
"There's definitely no doubt about that," I said stating the obvious. That made her laugh, which in turn made me smile.
She dropped lower so she was just inches far from my face, her braid falling along, touching my heart. I was going to get that braid in a minute, to free her beautiful dark hair. She teased me a couple times with her lips, making me believe she was going to kiss me, when each time we were about millimeters away, she distanced herself, leaving me desperate. Simultaneously, she moved her hips seductively on top of me, rubbing our most sensitive body parts as in some kind of old tribal ritual. I could feel how wet she already was, just from foreplaying and whispered words between out bodies. I wasn't going to be able to hold off for much longer. I was so ready to be inside of her...
"Because I didn't give up on you," Katniss continued with an impish voice, knowing she was driving me mad.
Tired of being played, I pulled lovingly from her braid until our mouths met. She gave in and kissed me while I untied her braid little by little, spreading her hair on her back, some locks falling around our faces like a curtain. When I finished with her hair we broke from our deep and lustful kiss. Katniss watched me intensely and smiled when I whispered to her how precious and beautiful she was to me. Dear God, she was so sexy, so incredible. And she was mine, all mine.
I noticed how she positioned her hips so we could be one. I didn't doubt and started to slide inside of her, feeling her heated walls enclosing around me. Katniss moaned once as she took me in, hiding her face in my neck, biting my skin there. Then she guided her lips to my ear.
"You love me because I'm real to you," she murmured then.
I was all inside of her now, to the hilt, but we were not moving yet. My hands had caressed her hair and back, but now they were pinning her hips on me, keeping us pressed together. I could feel our heartbeats there where our skins melted with each other's.
"You are," I replied. "Very real," I added kissing her neck.
Katniss raised her head and met my eyes. Love and desire is what she saw in them.
"You're real to me too, Peeta," she said frankly, without reservation. "Your love is."
"Good, because I don't want you to forget it. Never," I told her with all that I felt for her showing on my face and my body.
We chose that moment to start moving, Katniss taking control of the whole motion very soon. She rode me slowly on her knees at first, then harder, enjoying me as she had said she was going to do. Katniss could be wild, although she not always showed me that side of her sexuality. Some days I had to work very hard to see a glimpse of it. Others she showed me freely. Today was not one of those days, I could tell. But it didn't matter. Today I was just happy to see her get pleasure from me. I marvelled at how her breasts danced, at how her hips rocked, at how her hands and lips touched me. The sounds coming out of her mouth aroused me in unimaginable ways, and her looks and expressions drove me crazy. At this rhythm I wasn't going to last long and she knew it.
"Hold on, Peeta," she ordered me after some time knowing I was at my limit. And so, unable not to please her, I endured her pleasurable torture.
Time later she laid on top of me exhausted and satisfied. When I was able, after recovering some of my breathing, I hugged her with my arms and legs. Not even two minutes had passed when we heard the doorbell. We didn't say anything, lost as we were in the sedative sensations sex had left behind. I for one was wishing the person would go away and come later. For one free evening I had with my woman... I didn't have that luck. The doorbell rang a second time.
"Should we get that?" said Katniss lazily with her head lying in the hollow between my neck and shoulder. The fingers of one of her hands were making abstract drawings on my chest.
"I would rather see if the person gets tired and leaves."
"Okay," she agreed, sighing contented.
Then suddenly, instead of listening the doorbell, we heard the door being banged several times with an angry fist. We knew who would do something like that, and if we had any doubt, he made himself be heard.
"Hey girl, open the damn door! I know you're in there, I saw you enter the house before!" said an annoyed and deep voice.
"Well, at least now we know who it is," I said not very enthusiastically.
"I wonder what he wants now," Katniss said irritated starting to get off of me. "He always comes at the most inopportune times."
"Don't worry, I'll get him," I said getting up. I went for the bathrobe to put it on. "You stay here and wait for me."
"Alright. But don't let him keep you for too long." She knew how Haymitch could be a pain sometimes.
"I know," I assured her when I got on to the bed on one knee to kiss her one more time. The banging on the door reached us again. "Don't get dressed," I told her before going down the stairs barefoot.
I went straight for the main door and opened it in the middle of a third round of knockings.
"Hello Haymitch." My greeting wasn't very joyful.
He looked surprised to see me there.
"What the hell are you doing here?"
I could tell he was half drunk by the smell coming out of his mouth. The bottle he was holding in one hand and his wrinkled clothes were other evidence of his state.
"Last time I checked this was my house. Do you need something?" I said quickly. I really wanted to go back with my girl.
"Is she home?" He asked frowning, noticing my messy hair and scarced attire.
"Yes, but she's no-" I tried to explain, but I was interrupted.
"Peeta, tell him to come later!" Katniss' feminine voice urged from upstairs. No more explanations were needed.
"Well, you heard her. We're busy."
Haymitch finally got a hold of what was happening, which made him curse some words.
"You two still go at it like rabbits?" he spat before taking a drink from the bottle.
"We already went through that phase, but we like to remember it from time to time," I joked, although it wasn't far from the truth.
Haymitch made a move with his free hand, as if he wanted me to get lost.
"I can tell," he said before turning and leaving, not even saying good-bye. I stood there watching him go back to his house, just in case he fell or something. Nothing happened, except for his shout of "I'll come back tomorrow!" when he was in the middle of the street.
I closed the door relieved that I could return with the woman of my dreams. I heard her calling my name and that made me go upstairs faster. I suppose leaving Bruce running the bakery was a good idea. Now I had the rest of the evening to keep reminding Katniss why I loved her so much.
A/N: This is a crappy one-shot I wrote years ago. The idea was to show moments of Peeta's and Katniss' life together after the third book, Mockingjay. I may resume it in the future.