Upon His Return
I lied in my bed starring blankly at the plain, utilitarian bed stand standard for District 13 quarters. Lying in a simple 'S' curve was the small piece of rope I would knot and then unknot over and over again, time and time again, a mindless exercise which had become so rehearsed it felt odd to not be holding in this moment. I hadn't felt as much need for it since Annie had returned. But still it called to me. Like a persistent gnawing. A difficult habit to break; it had come to more closely resemble an addiction; a necessary crutch to hold up a crumbling and unstable psyche. The emotional and mental dependence was hard to rid one's self of.
Still, it was now easier. I made a regular practice of putting off the use of it for as long as I felt I could manage. Minutes at a time only, but they quickly built. Now I felt there would be no need to even perform this strange weaning exercise. I would no longer need a crutch, no longer need some inanimate object to rein in my anxieties now that he had returned.
I had been overjoyed to learn the news, but had felt it wiser to contain some of my excitement. It would not do for me to emote more than Katniss, though I supposed that was not such a great feat. She had always been stony, standoffish, closed off, even before the games, before the torture. But still, it was best not to provoke any curiosity or perhaps even suspicion. These were dark times and anything but solemnness could arouse strange interest or reprimand and disdain.
I gripped the sheets of my bed with sweaty hands. My thoughts kept creeping to plans; schemes to see him. I knew the passcode for the door, that had been easy enough to learn; how easy, even here, it was to seduce a key individual into divulging precious information. Surely no one would be watching him at this hour. He was locked up safely enough.
I shook my head to bring myself back to reason. I had seen what he had done to Katniss. I knew what he had become. Hijacked. Dangerous, very dangerous. But still the desire gnawed, much more than the desire to knot that rope ever had. He was dangerous to Katniss, but perhaps to no one else. He had been sensitized into fearing her, hating her, but no one else. Not me.
I swung my legs out of bed and let them grace the cool metal floor. I stood up quietly and rushed toward the door, all sense of reason and doubt had been erased. I crept around doorways and padded barefooted up corridors until I found my way to the place where they held him. The door was a large and heavy one, very secure, but just as I had hoped there was no one standing guard, no one watching.
I walked up to the door somewhat cautiously, not yet convinced that it was the only barrier between us. The keypad was on the right hand side of the door and I quickly punched in the code. There was a moment's pause. The door hissed as it unsealed and slid open. I stepped into the room quickly and the door came closed behind me.
The room I entered was stark white from floor to ceiling, wall to wall. It was relatively void of any furnishings with the exception of the single hospital-like bed in the middle. There, strapped to the bed frame at both wrists and ankles, clad only in a white hospital gown was Peeta.
He looked different, horribly different. I saw as I approached the still, lying figure that he looked thinner, especially in the face, emaciated even. His cheekbones stuck out a bit more and his eyes were perhaps a bit sunken. Subtle things and thankfully not permanent, I thought. Despite his weakened state he mostly retained his sturdy build. His muscular shape combined with his petite stature was perhaps one of his most endearing physical qualities.
I came up beside the bed and saw that his bare arms and legs were worn raw from the restraints that bound him around the ankles and wrists. He had struggled hard against them in one of his fits of madness. I placed my hand carefully on his arm and ran it down softly across the faint blond hairs that resided there. I moved over the restraint and placed my hand in his.
His eyes fluttered as he awoke. I feared for a moment as his hand clenched hard around mine and his eyes were full with fear. His eyes locked on my face and he froze for a moment, his face changing to one of recognition and then became more thoughtful in an expression of recollection. His grip loosened and he stared into my face for a few moments more.
"Hey, Peeta," I said softly. His lips parted for a moment as if he were about to say something but then closed again. He looked at my face for another moment and then his thumb started stroking my hand.
"Finnick," was all he said in a quiet voice. I smiled in relief.
"You're alright," I said, smiling again. "I missed you."
He stared at me for another long moment, his brilliant blue eyes beholding me with a strange look of pitiful brokenness. His face was still so handsome and his expressions were as captivating as ever.
"I missed you too," he said, the corners of his lips pulling up slightly. A small tear ran down his cheek. I reached out and wiped it away with my hand.
My hands fumbled for a moment on the wrist restraint closest to me, but I soon unlatched it, releasing his left arm. I pushed him gently and he slid over on the bed allowing me to curl up beside him. My legs became tangled with his and I wrapped an arm around his middle and pulled him close to my chest, burying my face in his neck and placing small kisses against his smooth flesh.
"I'm so happy you're back," I whispered, pulling him still closer. Peeta seemed his same old self with me. His voice had hitched, as I had known it to do whenever I touched him affectionately, his nervousness or perhaps excitement breaking through to the surface. It always made me smile, his innocence, the pure genuine and authentic nature about him.
It had been so long since I had been with him. Not since that night in the jungle of the arena had we been so close. I soon felt a stirring in my lose pajama pants and I felt myself uncontrollably pressing my pelvis up against his backside longingly. He was only in that thin gown and I suspected there was little on underneath. I pulled at the strings near the back of his neck and undid the knot, allowing the flaps of the gown to open up slightly. The large expanse of smooth skin that was his back was exposed and I ran a hand over it gently. He shivered.
I sat up on the bed and removed the undershirt I was wearing and cast it down on the floor before re-embracing him. I turned his head toward mine and pressed my lips against his. I had missed the closeness with this boy. The affection he seemed to radiate, the pureness to his beauty. After we broke away I made quick work of the remaining ties that ran down the back of the gown and soon pulled it from his body swiftly. I gazed at his body hungrily. He was nearly naked with the exception of the small pair of black trunks he wore so nicely, I thought as I appraised him. I had nearly forgotten how much his physique had appealed to me. He had been through an ordeal but his body had remained strong. The curves of his muscles were still pronounced and the small trail of blond hairs that led from his navel down to eventually slip beneath his waistband almost made me squirm.
I quickly undid the restraint on his other wrist and then straddled his waist. His arms came up and wrapped around my own waist as I began to rock my hips over him and could begin to feel a stiff hardening beneath me. Peeta began to breath heavily and we both started to sweat. I couldn't take much more of my suddenly too restraining pants and leapt up out of the bed to the floor so I could drop the bottoms to my ankles and expose myself fully to Peeta. I hadn't worn anything underneath and my stiff member was now sticking out quite a ways.
Peeta grew red in the face and turned his head away slightly though I saw he kept stealing glances. I grabbed his hand and he turned back to me fully. I smiled at his bashfulness. I guided his hand down to my member and placed it in his palm gently. I saw Peeta lick his lips nervously as I closed his fingers around my shaft for him. His grip was so pleasant. His hand was warm and large but not meaty as hands often could be. They were strong but delicate enough to perform precision should the occasion require it.
I moved his hand up and down myself and felt myself building far too quickly. It had been too long since he had touched me. The pleasure was overwhelming. Before it could go too far I pulled myself from his soft grip. I remounted him and captured his lips again, this time slipping my tough into his warm mouth. My hands were moving all over. I wanted to touch every part of him all at once. When we broke away again I looked down at his body longingly. I could no longer bare to have any bit of him covered so I moved down to the tight fabric which was having difficulty concealing him, his stiff member prominently pressing against the tight garment, longing to break free. I seized the elastic band and pulled hard, sliding the trunks all the way down to his ankles.
There he was, his penis free and lying stiffly against his taunt stomach. His crouch glistening from the soft blond curls catching the light. I moved quickly and pressed my face against his organ. I ran my tough up it and he made a terrible shiver. I slipped it into my mouth without hesitation and began to suck. Bobbing my head up and down, every time my head would come down my nose would be buried in the soft blond hair.
Peeta soon took my head into his hands and ran his fingers through my hair and began to force my head down as he thrust upward. It had clearly been far too long for him as well. He seemed to be losing control, but I soon forced him away, not wanting him to finish just yet. We both panted and I unlatched the final restraints from around his ankles. He kicked off his underwear from around his ankles and let them fall to the floor. I crawled up him; our naked bodies now flush with each other, and then lifted his legs. On the small metal tray attached to the bed was some kind of cream or jelly apparently for the raw skin around his wrists and ankles. I made quick use of it and covered myself liberally with it.
I paused for a moment and looked into Peeta's face. We were both still breathing deeply and his eyes were locked upon me intently. I smiled and kissed him again before moving closer to his entrance. The head of my penis pressed against it firmly and I felt him relax and let me slide into his warm embrace. He gasped and I couldn't suppress the moan that escaped my lips. The tight, enveloping warmth was beyond what I had remembered.
After a short pause I began to move. Slow at first but then steadily faster. Peeta was nearly crying out with pleasure, his face contorted with desperate desire. I began to slam into him, losing complete control and was happy when he pushed back with just as much force. Faster and faster we moved, writhing and moaning as I slapped against him. I felt myself building up and I grabbed Peeta's member from his own clutch and began to jerk it violently. I pushed several more times, harder and harder, pushing my fist down onto Peeta as I did so until I could bare no more. I felt myself spill out into him and Peeta jerked and a shot out over his chest.
We stayed there for several minutes, drenched in sweat and panting heavily. I slipped out from within him and curled up beside him again, kissing him deeply. After many moments rest I refastened his restraints, knowing too well that not everyone was as safe with him as I was. I retrieved his gown and placed it back around him. I slipped his trunks on before my bottoms after realizing I had forgotten to slide them back onto him before I rebound his feet, I'd get them back to him latter, I thought, looking forward to the occasion. After re-donning my undershirt I wrapped my arms around his head and kissed him again. When are lips broke apart I whispered to him.
"I'll be back again tomorrow," I assured.
He nodded and then gave a small smile. We kissed again and then I made for the door. As I travelled back toward my room I had a feeling I would not be needing that rope ever again.