A/N: Hey all! This is a sort of side-story to my main story, Victims of Circumstance. It's an alternate chapter ending, and hopefully the first of many. This oneshot is based off of Chapter 4 - Somnium. Regardless, enjoy!

My leg, bleeding heavily. My chest, heaving and hurting. My throat, stinging and burning. I hadn't stopped running for 15 minutes. Nicks and cuts littered my exposed skin, the branches and foliage whipping me as I crashed through the brush. I'd finally reached the clearing, and the blaze from the artificial sun was not welcome upon my skin. My final burst of energy ran out as I collapsed at the mouth of a glittering golden horn. The cornucopia. I crawled inside, all of my energy now gone. Hiding behind a crate at the back, in the shadows, I find slight comfort and an opportunity to rearrange my thoughts. It's the showdown. Two of us are left. I've spent an hour evading capture. My leg is severely wounded. I have no supplies. The cornucopia was cleaned out by the Careers. Their supplies were destroyed in an explosion. I'm being hunted by—

"Well, well! Look who finally stopped running!" a voice calls. The loud banging on my pursuer's hands slamming on the metal walls of the cornucopia. Getting closer. Closer. "Lover boy. I'm surprised you managed to outrun me with that bad leg!" He calls.

"Just… Please, just end it! Kill me!" I cry out in despair. I don't want to be punished. I don't want to suffer any more. I feel myself curl up into a ball, my leg hurting more than ever. I feel a fresh rush of blood escaping down my thigh. Staring into the darkness, I can feel my sanity draining.

"Kill you? Why would I do that?" he calls out into the shadowed cavern of the cornucopia. I hear his heavy footsteps crushing the grass underneath him, getting closer. The sweat running from my forehead mixes with the blood and dirt printed onto my cheeks, red and brown droplets falling onto my shirt.

"We're the only ones left, Cato… Just end this sick game and go home…" I cry out in despair.

"You forget Fire Girl is still running around in the trees."

That's right, Katniss is still alive. It's my duty to protect her.

"Anyway, you forgot something else, lover boy."

"What's that, then?" The pain in my leg is searing and stinging. I've finally settled in one place, and now, I doubt I'd be able to move from here at all. That's fine though. I can't outrun Cato forever. He's trained his entire life for this moment. He's been chasing me for an hour and he doesn't even sound out of breath. I see his shadow creeping inside the cornucopia. This is it.

This is how I die.

"This ointment." he replies in a nonchalant voice. It throws me completely off guard.

"… What?" He finally makes his way to me. His face isn't hostile or angry. Instead, he looks concerned. I look to the glint of silver in his hand. It's a metal canister with a grey parachute dangling off it.

"What's that…?" I ask, becoming wary again. I remember a previous Hunger Games where one tribute used a sponsor gift canister to crush an opponent's skull by smashing it on his temple over and over. Brutal. Like Cato.

"This dropped at the Career camp during the night after your leg got cut open by that bitch Clove."

That's right. Clove mistook me for an enemy and threw a knife directly into my thigh last night. I was crying out from the pain, but I'm sure I heard Cato yelling at Clove for a while. Followed by a horrific snapping noise. Then something slumping to the floor, followed by a cannon. Cato killed his district partner, a trained, lethal Career, worth ten of me in terms of usefulness, because she attacked me by mistake. What could I possibly mean to him to cause him to do something like that? I was scared stiff the rest of the night as Cato took off into the woods without another word. By the time morning came, my leg was slightly numbed from the pain, and I used that to my advantage to run from the Career camp. Cato saw me, though. As I was pretty far away I looked back, seeing him return to camp, then taking off after me. And now we're here.

"Wh… What is it?" I ask, my mind becoming hazy from pain. I feel my head slump to the left slightly, and Cato rushes to kneel beside me. Pulling out a knife from his belt, he runs it up the side of my thigh, cutting the fabric around my wound. I wince, but he comforts me with a reassuring look and a smile. Not a smirk, as he's so used to doing, but a genuine, warm smile. He opens the canister, pulling out the tub of ointment.

"This might sting for a while, alright? Squeeze my hand if you need to." He tells me firmly, sliding his hand into mine. I thought I was already confused from the pain and deliriousness, but now I'm just downright befuddled. The brutish, murderous leader of the Career tributes was taking care of me. Then I feel the cool, antiseptic sting of the cream being spread over my sizzling skin, and I let out a yelp, and find myself squeezing Cato's spare hand as if my life depended on it. Who knows, it actually might do. The pain quickly subsides, and before my thigh becomes completely numb again, I feel Cato's strong fingers delicately dancing over my wounded skin. I watch his face as he concentrates on taking care of my wounds. His steely blue eyes lock onto new cuts and nicks in my skin as he finds them, and he softly wipes a layer of the ointment over each and every one. I sigh in relief after what seems like an eternity. I bring myself to look him in the eye. Neither of us say a word. I notice blood has running down his forehead, though.

"… Did you get hurt too?" I ask, not breaking eye contact. He shrugs. I reach for the pot of cream on the grass, and take a small amount on the tip of my fingers. My other hand brushes his sweat-soaked hair from his forehead. He has a small cut along his hairline, probably caused by a rogue tree branch slapping him as he chased me. I rub the ointment along the cut. He winces slightly, but relaxes shortly after.

"Thank you, twe-…" He stops, and smiles again. "Peeta." I reciprocate his smile. He rarely calls me Peeta, so it's nice on these odd occasions. I open my mouth to thank him, but instead, his warm, soft lips crash onto mine, and he pulls me into a scorching kiss. Without thinking, I kiss him back, but he pushes back harder, and I totally submit. His tongue brushes mine, and I let him explore my mouth as much as he wishes. The thought of angering him by denying him this makes me feel guilty, somehow. I guess I owe him this at least. Suddenly, he pulls his lips from mine and looks me in the eye again. "You should sleep. I'll keep watch." I consider protesting, but my drooping eyelids and a stifled yawn prove him right. He rummages around in his jacket and pulls out a roll of black fabric. He unrolls it into a surprisingly large blanket, and lays it on the floor. Next thing I know, I'm being lifted by Cato, and placed on the blanket. He pulls one side over me and tucks me in so I can get warm.

I'm so confused by this boy. Maybe he genuinely does care about me. Or maybe he needs me fully healed so I can help him hunt Katniss. Or maybe he doesn't see any sport in killing an injured target. But he's standing guard over me. His towering figure casting a cooling shadow over my burning exposed skin.

"Thanks, Cato… For everything." I mutter weakly but sincerely. He simply turns his head and nods at me, smiling. He moves to sit next to me, sword at his side. It's the middle of the afternoon, but I'm so tired from running and pain I fall straight asleep.

It's dark outside when I wake up. Cato's sat down in the same position as before I fell asleep. His sword looks unmoved too. I yawn as I stretch, and notice no pain in my thigh, or on my arms. Only mild red scars dot my skin. Cato turns to look at me, smiling.

"You were out for 9 hours. You all rested up now?" he says. I can see he's tired from vigilantly watching over me all night.

"Yeah, I feel fine… Do you want to take a rest? I can handle being on guard…"

"Sounds great, I'm beat. And don't you go running off again." He's got his trademark smirk, but the glint in his eye tells me he's joking. I smile, and I think I chuckle slightly. I manoeuvre my stiff body off the makeshift mattress Cato made, and assume his position overlooking the mouth of the cornucopia from behind a scattered wall of crates. He gives me his sword to use incase… Incase Katniss shows up. I hear him settling down and pulling the covers over himself.

My mind begins to wander. What am I going to do if Katniss shows up? Let her kill Cato? Tell her to run for her life and I'll come find her? What if Cato wakes up? He'll drive his blade through her throat without a second thought. Maybe I could convince him otherwise? What if we all made an alliance? Deny the Gamemakers and the Capitol their exalted victor? I'm asking for too much. Maybe not both of them, then. But how could I choose between Katniss, the girl I've loved since I was 5, and this brutish Career tribute who'd probably snap my neck if I looked at him the wrong way? I don't—

"I can't sleep."

"I.. what?" asking absent-mindedly. He turned to me, smiling at my confusion.

"You looked deep in thought. Sorry if I disturbed you."

"No, no, it's fine.. Um… How come you can't sleep?"

"I don't know. I feel too energetic, I think. Lots of adrenaline from chasing you earlier." He says this with a wink. I shyly look away with a blush. I hate myself for it, but I find him incredibly attractive. His flirty attitude doesn't help. And what I felt when he kissed me earlier.. I'd never felt anything like it. He kissed me with passion, with fire. Pure, unbridled fire. I've always thought of myself as straight. But that kiss was the best I've ever had. And… I want more. There's no sign of Katniss. There are no cameras back here. Cato's wide awake. I swallow nervously. It's now or never.

And with that notion, I throw myself down on top of him. He's surprised, but I press my lips against his before he can say anything. And for a while, we lie there, connected. He pulls away, and I whimper slightly.

"Peeta. There's no-one on guard."

"Do you want me to stop?" I ask as I lock my eyes onto his.

"Hell no." he scoffs as he pulls me back to him, crushing my lips with another of his burning kisses. I find my hands running over his chest and through his tousled blonde hair. I'd be lying if I said feeling the contours of his muscled torso and arms pressed against my body didn't feel amazing. The problem, though, is that we're clothed. I break the kiss to grip the collar of his shirt with my teeth, looking up at him with as much lust as I can muster. "Hungry little thing aren't you?" he mutters, and 7I laugh to myself and drag his shirt up, slightly displaying his now-sweat-covered abs. I grin to myself, out of envy more than anything. Without further ado, he grips his shirt and pulls it over his head. As soon as his glistening skin is revealed, I waste no time placing a trail of kisses from his collarbone, down between his pecs, over each and every one of his abs, and finally stopping at the light blonde trail of hair leading from his navel to the hem of his boxers. His hands roughly grab my shoulders, pulling my black shirt from my body with easy. He grins lustfully as his eyes consume my exposed torso, and he pulls me back up to him. My legs rest between his, and our bare chests collide. I can practically feel the fire we create between us. We lock lips once more, his tongue dominating mine, his hands resting in the small of my back. I find my hands running back down his chest, towards his trousers. He puts his hands on my shoulders again. "You don't have to do this, you know."

He's right, I don't. But I want to. And with that, I flick open the button on his pants, and grip the zipper in my teeth. I hear him stifle a moan. I take this as a good sign on continue, pulling the zipper to its base. I now notice how stiff he's become from my touch, as his member inside its fabric prison springs up, unrestrained. I pull his trousers to his knees as he shifts on his back, and a final glance to his flushed face tells me to keep going. I lower my mouth onto his clothed head, enjoying the warmth. I lightly tease him with my tongue, trying to push my head down more. I assumed he would be big, but this is ridiculous. I'm barely two thirds of the way down his shaft and I'm nearly gagging. I pull up to breathe, and take the moment to ask him something.

"Am I.. Doing okay?"

"You're doing great… Now try the real thing." He says breathlessly, pulling his grey boxers down, and his dick stands to attention. It's definitely bigger than I anticipated. Must be about 8 inches at the least… I think to myself. It looks thick, too… Just what I'd expect from Cato. I shake myself of any doubt or hesitation, take a large breath of air, and dive my head down, taking as much of him in my mouth as I can. His hand reaches to grip my hair as he breaks out into a loud moan. I adjust myself to get comfortable, and begin sliding my head up and down, my tongue tracing patterns over his cock, feeling the thick veins pulsing against it. I gradually take more of him into my throat, the taste of his salty precum lingering in my mouth. I'm enjoying this a lot more than I thought I would, finding myself at a steady pace. His breathing hastens and I feel him begin to shift his hips, when he pulls himself out of my mouth, pushes me back to the floor and slides over me. I can feel his dick pressing against my crotch. His hand lifts my head into another passionate kiss, while my hands explore his naked form. His teeth grip my lower lip and he looks directly into my eyes. He's got that angry, lustful look in his eyes that I've come to love. He lets go of my lip to speak.

"Pants off. Now." He commands. I hastily oblige, and start unbuckling my belt, when he suddenly takes charge, practically ripping my remaining clothes from me. Animal grunts and moans escape from his throat as his hands and mouth explore my body, and each touch from him ignites a small fire in its place. I can't help but writhe and contort myself in pleasure as he works his way around me, leaving no patch of skin untouched. His breathing slows right down, and he looks directly into my eyes. I can't see anything in his steely eyes for a change. "Are you ready?" is all he asks as I feel something jabbing my thigh. I nod, and he lifts my hips as my legs straddle his waist. I swallow my breath and close my eyes, anticipating what comes next. He spits into his hand and begins stroking his length, preparing himself. I feel the tip of his manhood pressing against my virgin hole. When nothing happens, I open one eye to find him looking at me, almost nervously. He opens his mouth to speak, but refrains. I raise my eyebrows expectantly, and he buckles with a sigh. "Peeta… Tell me if you need me to stop, alright? This'll hurt at first." I simply nod with a smile, close my eyes, and wait.

The pain is excruciating at first, and I find myself wrapping all available limbs around Cato's strong torso, holding on for dear life. Tears form in the corners of my eyes. I can feel his tip pushing through me, the pain intensifying as he digs deeper inside me. I moan and groan the entire team, my fingers on his back curling up, scratching through his skin. It's all I can do not to pass out from the pain.

"Do you need me to stop?" He asks, but I shake my head against his shoulder and try to give him a reassuring smile. He smirks at my effort, and presses his lips to my collar, and continues to bury his throbbing length inside me. In the haze of euphoric pain, I'm not aware that he's fully sheathed himself inside me. He plants a small kiss on my lips, whispering "well done" gently. He gives me a few moments to adjust to his girth, and then starts moving again. I whined a little at the loss of his dick filling me, but he thrusts back in, and I yelp in pain. I arch my back up, grinding my sweat-covered torso against his. Both my breathing and his become loud and ragged as he picks up his pace, sliding in and out of me with ease. The pain subsides, and pleasure replaces it.

I find myself becoming accustomed to Cato pounding into me hard against the floor. Submitting to a stronger man. Belonging to someone. Belonging to him. Cato. With that thought – and with Cato's abdomen grinding against my hardened rod – I practically explode, crying out, losing myself in this moment with Cato. I release myself onto my chest and onto Cato's abs, smoothing the friction between us. He nuzzles his face into my shoulder, licking my neck. I feel my muscles tighten and contract as he places a flurry of kisses onto my skin, and I notice him speeding up with his thrusts. He lets out a brutish, animal-like roar of pleasure, and with one final motion, he slams himself fully into me. I feel his warm seed filling my insides, and his teeth clamp onto the base of my neck, growling as he rides out his orgasm.

And for the following minutes, we lie there in the silent darkness of the arena. He's still sheathed inside me, our collective breathing rates slowing down. I'm the first to move. I gingerly reach up to brush some of his straw-blonde hair from his sweat-covered fringe. He catches my hand in his, locking our fingers together.

"Peeta."

"Mm..?"

"What do you say we win this thing together?"

"Do you mean…?"

"Just me and you. The way it should be."

"…I, um…" a few more moments of silence pass before I speak up again. "Yes." He smirks, and his icy blue eyes seem to glow at the chance of being alive with me after the games.

"Tomorrow, we hunt?"

"Tomorrow, we hunt." I tell him. I seal the deal with a chaste kiss upon his lips.

Thanks for reading! If you're here from my main story, Victims of Circumstance, please let me know if you like the way I've set up this oneshot. I'm happy to do more for future chapters!