For my lovely lady, Melanie. Because I love her so. (:
Needs
It was as soon as I peeked through the jungle bed of furs that I noticed it. Gale and Peeta. Lips moving, eyes locking, hands coaxing and touching. Something in my gut churned. It was then that realized I was staring betrayal straight in the face. And, this time, it struck me dead in the eye. Was I having another awful, horrible nightmare? It couldn't be. I pinched myself to make sure, only to wish that it actually was a hideous dream for once.
It wasn't.
Hatred, jealousy, and mere confusion pulsated through my veins as the display continued. It started out with a simple conversation about, whom else but, me. Who couldn't I survive without? Gale or Peeta? The question, as offensive as it was, even boggled my mind. At least, until right here. Until right now. When I saw Gale's form lean in closer, his lips brushing against Peeta's ear as he murmured, "Wouldn't it be easier… just to forget about love?" Another whisper was passed, but I could barely make it out. "Just to forget about her, too?"
But that wasn't the detail that irked me, made me struggle to keep still. It was the fact that Peeta didn't object. His face, his crystal blue eyes, almost appeared relieved when he heard the message. And, no doubt about it, a smile appeared on his smug face. The same smile he gave me when we were nestled in that cave together. And Gale... I hadn't seen this side of Gale since last year, before the reaping. Before our entire lives changed. He had the same look in his eye when he discovered one of his snares went off: satisfied. Sadistically satisfied.
Chink-a, chink, went the shackles which bound Peeta's wrists. He strained against them as Gale placed a hand on his side, feeling his visible ribs through his shirt. I could see Peeta shiver as my long lost hunting buddy began to dig his greedy fingers underneath the thin shirt. What were they doing? No. What was Gale doing to Peeta? He didn't seem to be hurting, or bruising. Just… touching. Why? Whatever silent interaction they had must have slipped by me, for my mind seemed to be two steps behind.
My breath caught in my throat as I continued to watch the spectacle. Gale's tricky fingers slid Peeta's shirt and exposed his torso. I hadn't seen it in who knows how long, but now it was contoured with more, leaner muscles due to his training. Yet it was still faintly bruised and scarred from his tortures; they'd probably never go away. I bit my lip as dirty hands gently traced these unflattering blemishes. I heard Peeta let in a sharp gasp, his stomach heaving to compliment it. The soft rattling of the handcuffs began again as Gale's fingertips slid down to the blonde's narrow hips, where his underwear was riding up above the hem of his pants, and took a snap at the elastic material. I could hear a faint whimper come from Peeta, but nothing more.
At this point, I could have screamed. I could have emerged from underneath those furs and sprung at Gale like a wild lioness. My chest throbbed with unbearable pains as I heard those uttered words coming from my friend's lips. "I'll give you what you need… unlike her." His face split with a malicious grin. My hands balled into fists waiting for Peeta to come to my rescue in this one. I wanted him to defend his love for me, like he did throughout the hunger games. I needed him to at least say something.
"Do it."
The answer crushed me, but also got me thinking. What did Peeta need that I couldn't give him, and Gale could? Why was Peeta being so compliant to Gale's molestation? Was Gale, dare I say it, gay? The word was so foreign to me. No one ever questioned their sexuality in District Twelve. There was no time for that. We lived and breathed survival. Only the Capitol had such a luxury to do so. And, with that in mind, Gale could never be swayed into it. So, then, why?
All of these questions were answered in a matter of seconds. I flushed as I noticed the bulge in both the males pants, and recalled my mother's explanation when I was merely Prim's age. Whatever happened here got them excited, and the only way for it to go pass was… I placed a hand over my mouth. Oh dear. They were going to do that? Together? I didn't even question how it happened, because I was too shocked by what was coming undone… literally.
My mind could hardly comprehend what was going on, but one thing was sure. Every man needed some sort of release from this world. I understood that Haymitch drowned himself in alcohol to fulfill the same need. So, then, did both Gale and Peeta need this as well? Even I could tell you neither of them had the time or space to do it recently. Perhaps this was actually an act of kindness on Gale's part. Peeta didn't have hands to spare. And he was definitely right about me not being of use in this situation. With that in mind, I decided to forgive him… for the moment, at least.
My eyelids felt as if they had weights on them. I needed my sleep, but I was torn between satisfying my curiosity and my health. Although I felt like this was an invasion of privacy, I let my peeping eyes be hidden by darkness. This might be my last night of life, after all. Why not take a risk or two while I was at it? Gale began to fumble with the buttons on Peeta's trousers, his face just as pink as mine. Peeta was also blushing, but his face was fixed in frustration from the handcuffs and his own will. His body wriggled out of those constricting pants, and his erection took on a more explicit form than just a bulge. It strained almost painfully against the cottony boxers he wore. I hoped my speeding heart beat couldn't be heard across the room… because it was pounding in my ears.
"Big..." Gale complimented; I could tell from his voice it was said with a mixture of awe and envy. And he was right. It was big. He shook his head, his dark, scruffy hair flinging about, and began to unzip his own pants. I wanted so desperately to look away, to drop dead asleep before I saw my best friends in a way that was too new to me. Sure, I've seen plenty of naked people, whether it was in health books or on her own kitchen table. But, like this? Never. Yet I couldn't peel my eyes off of the situation. Not once.
Peeta hadn't commented about Gale's size, but it was apparent that they were both well endowed. But in my eyes, they were equally "big." I was biting my nails in anticipation at what might happen next. Would they really go through with such a forbidden act, right here and now? The question became rhetorical when Gale's hand rested upon Peeta's arousal. The blond squirmed underneath it before their gazes locked. Another silent affirmation was passed, once which I seemed to miss this time, and the boxers were thrown aside.
I threw my hand across my mouth and bit into it to refrain from squealing. Everything was there, and much much different from what I'd seen of Peeta before. I felt so naïve for not witnessing such a feat before. I was seventeen! Shouldn't I have, at least, expected this? My huge, chocolate eyes were locked on the situation at hand now. There was no way out of this one.
I could see the tension in both their expressions as Gale inched closer. He was practically sitting on Peeta's lap by the time he finally ceased. With what seemed like a long, deep breath, his hand came down on their arousals. He enclosed both of them with one hasty fist. I could see it in his face. He was trying to hide his emotions. But, of course, they were seeping through. Peeta acted the same, although the control on his own reactions seemed much more difficult. He was already moaning and groaning, and still rattling those goddamn chains. Luckily enough, I was the only one to be woken up.
Gale's strokes were rough and merciless, his calloused fingers squeezing their poor organs. Both of my own hands were balled into fist. I felt a fever coming on, and it wasn't because I caught something. Peeta must have been the one to give up the act first. "Oh… Faster, please." He moaned lustily, losing both his pride and possibly his mind. His hips bucked and jolted, as if they touched an electric fence. It wasn't Peeta, nor was it Gale. My mind couldn't connect these strangers and the friends I learned to know and love. It was almost like watching internet porn (whatever that was…). Almost.
And I say almost because as soon as I heard Gale let out a throaty moan, chills fled down my spine. It was his voice, just covered in a thick layer of lust. I was still shivering, even when the moment had already passed. But the alarming feelings only grew stronger as Gale and Peeta both approached orgasm. I was close enough to hear, see, feel, everything. My heart raced along with there's. And, soon enough, my own baggy attire was becoming awfully uncomfortable as well.
This was almost making me break out into a sweat, and I wasn't even the one involved. I was chomping down on the fleshy part of my thumb painfully just to keep quiet. It was hard staying completely still watching my two friends, more like romantic affairs now, moan and groan in complete ecstasy. They were oblivious to the rest of the world, oblivious to the fate we may have to meet tomorrow, even. For just a short moment they were free of troubled thoughts, free of murderous, angry, unforgiving memories. For once, they were enjoying something… together. I became envious of them, wishing I could feel that same sweet, ignorant bliss. But that wasn't my place. No; I was the Mockingjay.
My own breath hitched as Peeta climaxed first, his body writhing and convulsing underneath Gale's hand. His gentle voice choked from stifling it so much. Perhaps he was trying to keep me from waking up. I could see every detail of his skin, right down to the tiny droplets of sweat flying off of his frail chest. Gale, too. But beyond his olive complexion, I noticed his expression. Eyes closed, eyebrows knitted, lips slightly parted, too. He looked happy. No, more than happy: satisfied. And that emotion was rare nowadays. He came moments after
It was finished now, or so it seemed. Gale peeled his soiled body from Peeta's wiping the both of them off with a stray fur. They nodded at each other, and dispersed to go sleep. Well, Gale dispersed. Peeta was still chained up. Either way, I couldn't take much more of it. Another minute watching, and I might've just ended up joining. My hands were already lingering in places they definitely shouldn't. Before I knew it, I collapsed against those soft furs once more, my hot fingers still tugging at my clothes, and fell asleep.
I clasped onto my mug of tea for dear life, despite the sweaty porcelain burning my palms. It was still completely full; instead of drinking it, I attempted to predict my fortune with the bobbing bits of tea leaves. The forecast didn't look very good. Heavy bags stained just below my red-rimmed eyes. I was tired, and it was just the day I shouldn't be. Even Tigris noticed her state, and questioned whether or not I'd rather drink coffee instead. But, remembering how utterly devastated the coffee drinkers of District 13 were, I politely declined. While I was the first one up, besides the owner of the shop of course, my mind was still on last night. I couldn't shake the memory. I wanted it to a dream just as badly as I didn't.
Peeta and Gale weren't hadn't been up for hours, but at that very moment I did hear some stirring going on downstairs. Then, sure enough, two rumpled forms clambered up the stairs. First Gale, then Peeta. They looked surprisingly well rested and cheerful.
I wonder why.
"Hey, Catnip. You don't look so good. Didya sleep well?" Came the familiar voice. I finally took a sip of the tea.
"Well enough. And you two?" As if I needed to ask.
They exchanged glances, and grinned. "Well enough."