Author's Note: I originally meant to write this as a Christmas gift for my friends in the fandom. It is obviously belated, but hopefully better than nothing. :)
Rated M.
Disclaimer: The Hunger Games belong to Suzanne Collins.
"Oh my god, that looks amazing," Katniss says, leaning against the doorjamb in the kitchen.
Much to his son's disappointment, Peeta refused to ice his birthday cake with black icing, despite Ben's Batman-themed party. But Peeta being Peeta, he worked around that little hiccup beautifully and is now bent over a giant cake with deep blue icing and comic book script spelling out "splat!" and "kapow!" in between various yellow bat symbols. Now, he's just working on the actual Batman silhouette itself to top off the cake.
Peeta's eyes shoot up at the sound of her voice, though she notices his hand never falters. The brow that was wrinkled in concentration smooths out, and he gives her a blinding smile.
"You look amazing," he responds, dragging his gaze up her body slowly.
Katniss scoffs. She's been frantically cleaning the house all morning. Sweaty hair is escaping her braid, and her clothes- a decidedly unsexy pair of sweatpants and a too-large flannel she borrowed from her boyfriend- are covered in dust.
"No, seriously. Come here," Peeta says.
"No, don't even think about it," Katniss says. "I'm filthy. I'm not getting near that cake."
Peeta rounds the table, and she notes in amusement that his fingertips are stained with food coloring.
"Stop," she laughs, walking backward out of the kitchen as he narrows his eyes and stalks her across the space.
When he reaches her, she smacks his hands away from where they're reaching for her waist.
"Peeta, I mean it! I'm covered in chemicals!"
He dutifully puts his hands behind his back and she relaxes, but that doesn't stop him from leaning down and placing an open-mouthed kiss to the underside of her jaw.
"What did I just say?"
His mouth moves across her jawline and to her chin, and she can't help but let out a breathy laugh when he nips it, weakening her stern exterior.
"Did you apply the chemicals with your mouth?"
"No," she says with a glare.
"Then I think we're good." He goes in for a kiss, biting her top lip when she doesn't open up to him immediately.
"Pig," Katniss laughs, unable to keep the scowl on her face. He takes the opportunity to give her a searing kiss, teasingly licking into her mouth and then retracting his tongue before she can meet it with her own.
"Mmm," he hums, kissing his way to her ear. "You smell like lemon and disinfectant."
Before he can take her earlobe into his mouth (a weakness of hers he knows all too well), she pulls away from him and runs behind the couch. "Get away and finish the cake! It's your son's birthday. Behave yourself."
"Yeah, it's my birthdayyyyyy!"
Both Katniss and Peeta jump at this intrusion as Ben runs into the room, his arms spread wide and a dark towel fluttering behind him where it's attached around his shoulders.
"Buddy, did you destroy another one of my towels?" Peeta asks, sighing deeply.
"No, Dad, this is the same one as before!"
Katniss tries to stifle her laugh, but when Peeta gives her an unamused look, she knows she was unsuccessful. Ben has been in the habit of taking Peeta's linens and poking holes in the corners so he can attach them around his shoulders like a cape, using safety pins and, impressively, sometimes even his K'Nex pieces.
"Besides, maybe someone got me a real cape for my birthday!" he says with wide eyes. Katniss and Peeta look at each other over his head. She's as much of a sucker for those hopeful puppy dog eyes as Peeta is. But then, Katniss is a slave to all blue eyes of the Mellark variety, it seems.
"Yeah, maybe!" Peeta says in mock excitement. "Or maybe you got a big box of towels!"
"Daaad," Ben groans and rolls his eyes.
He learned that from you, Peeta mouths to Katniss. She blinks at him in exaggerated innocence.
"Is my cake ready yet?!" Ben asks, his excitement hardly waning.
"Nope, not yet, dude. No peeking!" Peeta shoos him away from the kitchen. "Go make sure your room is clean before the party, okay?"
"I already took care of it," Katniss says. Peeta arches a brow at her- there have been many times where he's insisted that she doesn't need to do things for Ben that he can do himself. No matter how much she wants to win his son over, Peeta is determined that Ben shouldn't be spoiled; on top of that, he's always insistent that Ben already adores Katniss. She can't help but to be in constant doubt of that. "The birthday boy shouldn't have to clean," Katniss finishes with a shrug.
"Say 'Thank you, Kat-'"
"Thank you, Katniss!" Ben yells over his dad, tackling Katniss with a hug. He really does hate cleaning his room.
Katniss awkwardly wraps her arms around him, trying not to cover him in chemicals, too. But she can't stop the pleased flush from overtaking her face. Peeta just watches her with a warm, intimate smile, and she tries not to fidget under his gaze.
"You should really finish my cake though, Dad."
"Oh, should I?" Peeta asks, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Yeah, everyone's gonna be here soon!" Ben insists, ignoring his father's affronted look.
Katniss' eyes dart to the clock, seeing that it's only an hour until people start arriving. "Oh crap!" she says, before her hands fly up to her mouth. "Sorry, sorry!" She grimaces and looks over at Ben, hoping he didn't hear her.
"It's okay, Katniss," Peeta says. "You're an adult, you can use that language. Ben, on the other hand..."
"Can't say that because it's a bad word," Ben finishes dejectedly.
"Unless?" Peeta prompts.
"Unless you finally get me a dog. Then I can say it because I'll be the one helping clean it up."
"There ya go," Peeta says with a wink.
Ben's mouth screws up, struggling to maintain a scowl, but when Peeta continues to smile at him, Ben gives up the attempt, and a giggle escapes.
"Father of the year," Katniss says dryly.
"In my heart, I am. In Ben's heart." Peeta swoops in before Ben can protest, and scoops the boy up, throwing him over his shoulder.
"Dad!" he laughs, clutching to the back of Peeta's shirt. He's almost too big to fit over Peeta's shoulders now, and Katniss thinks that if Peeta weren't so broad, he wouldn't be able to do it at all. But that doesn't stop him from spinning Ben around and making his cape flap until they're both red-faced.
Katniss rolls her eyes good-naturedly at both of them. "I'm going to take a shower!" she says loudly over top of them. She begins to move from the room, anxiety settling back into her gut at the thought of what today might hold. But a knock on the door stops her.
"What- we're supposed to have another hour!" Katniss says frantically.
Peeta stops spinning in place, and sets Ben on his feet. Before he can stop him, Ben is running to open the door.
"Hey! What did I tell you about answering the door?" Peeta says fruitlessly to his son's retreating back.
Katniss is quicker, and she moves swiftly through the living room to grab Ben before he can swing the door open. He stops and moves dutifully behind her.
When Katniss opens the front door, she's met with a blinding sight.
"Mom!" Ben yells, moving around Katniss to launch himself at her.
Delly drops down and wraps her arms around him, looking like she wants to pick him up but can't quite manage it anymore.
Katniss' heart drops to her stomach, and no matter how much she had mentally prepared herself for today, it seems it wasn't enough to keep her screaming self-doubt at bay. Delly looks perfect, as always. Her blonde hair is curled and bouncy, framing her round face, and going perfectly with her frilly sundress. When she stops showering her son with kisses and nearly crying over her "birthday boy" while Ben whines and tries to squirm away, Delly stands up straight in her wedges and looms over Katniss. She pulls at the sweaty flannel she's wearing.
"Katniss!" Delly exclaims, trying to pull her in for a hug. "It's so good to see you again!"
"Oh, no!" Katniss insists, moving backward, "I'm filthy. I don't wanna get you all gross with dust mites."
Delly looks her up and down with concern, before leaning in to give Katniss a kiss on both cheeks instead, leaving Katniss to blink back at her awkwardly.
"Peeta!" Delly admonishes, moving both Ben and Katniss inside with a hand on their backs before closing the door behind her. "You made Katniss clean for Ben's party?"
Peeta moves to give his ex-wife a big hug. Delly's hard look melts at this, and she gives a small, delighted squeak. Katniss' heart stops pounding only when Peeta gives her a secret, exasperated look over Delly's shoulder.
"She insisted, Dell. You try stopping Katniss from doing something she wants to do."
"Oh, well..." she says, looking between the both of them and sending Katniss a wink. "I see who wears the pants in this relationship."
Katniss wants to hate her. She really does. She wants to read some double meaning into her words, but there's nothing artificial about Delly. In the few times Katniss has met her, she's been nothing but heartfelt and sincere. If she had thought Peeta was the most earnest person she'd ever met, he was nothing to Delly. Which almost makes it worse. How perfect these two seem for each other.
"I should really shower," Katniss mutters, wiping hair from her forehead.
"Oh gosh, and put the rest of us to shame, why don't you?" Delly teases. Katniss gives her a wan smile.
"Katniss is terrible with compliments," Peeta explains, and she glares at him dangerously. "Just give her more and watch her squirm. It's my favorite." He smiles unrepentantly at her and the presence of Ben and Delly is the only thing keeping Katniss from snapping at him.
"Oh, leave her alone," Delly says, smacking his arm. "You're the one keeping her so trim, I bet! Filling her with baked goods and then forcing her to clean your house to work it off!"
"Hey!" Peeta protests, and Ben laughs. This draws Delly's attention back to him, and she starts wiping something off her son's cheek until pushes her hands away.
"But really, Katniss, I don't know how you do it."
"Well...you look great," Katniss offers weakly.
"Thank you!" Delly says, straightening up and patting her dress down over her stomach. "I've lost 5 pounds in the last two weeks! Who knew giving up carbs would do so much?"
"You gave up carbs?" Peeta asks in disgust, his expression going sour.
"I know, I know," Delly says, waving him off and turning to Katniss. "You'd think I told him the world ended."
"Carbs are my bread and butter!" Peeta argues.
"Oh god," Delly moans, rolling her eyes, and it's the first time Katniss has seen that expression from her. "The puns. How do you stand it? Isn't he the worst?"
Katniss can't stand it. Not the sweet ribbing of a man both of them have had, whom she feels like she's actually sharing in this moment. He gives her a sweet, secret smile from where he stands behind Delly, but their comfort in this situation is only making her feel like the splinter that's being rejected from this perfect domestic situation- the three blondes looking completely blissful and so like the ideal family portrait that Katniss wants to flee.
"I've really gotta clean up before it gets too late," Katniss says apologetically to the floor before moving out of the room.
She can hear Peeta's heavy footsteps behind her, and he catches up to her in the hallway, wrapping his arms around her shoulders so she can't move away.
"Hey, beautiful," he whispers in her ear, and her mouth turns up traitorously. "You're gonna be fine. Ben loves you. I love you." A shiver goes through her and she knows she'll never tire of hearing those words, no matter how many times he's repeated them since he first told her a few months ago. "Just stick by me, okay? Or Delly."
At this, Katniss turns her head and lifts a skeptical eyebrow.
"Seriously," Peeta says. "She likes you. I know she can be a lot, but just...remember who the real enemy is."
"Who?" Katniss asks, turning all the way around to face him.
His features scrunch up in a grimace. "My mother."
Katniss finishes her shower in record time, but spends 5 minutes rooting around in Peeta's drawers for her underwear. He offered up his drawer for her to share equally, but half the time, she can't even find two matching socks when she stays over, so she often ends up wearing Peeta's things. Not today, though. Not with the in-laws coming over.
She pauses in her search, shocked at herself for even conjuring up that term. In-laws. She and Peeta are nowhere near married, and with a son and ex-wife to deal with, she has her hands full as it is. But somehow, the idea doesn't cripple her like it should.
With her eyes constantly on the clock, she pokes herself in the eye with the mascara wand at least twice and, consequently, only has time to towel-dry her hair.
When she rushes into the kitchen, her sandals snapping against the hardwood floor, she's too busy fidgeting with her dress to look up.
"Peeta, have you seen-"
The voices stop when she enters. It's not happy chatter that she's interrupting though, so she knows before her head snaps up that it's not Delly or one of Peeta's friends.
The faces register with her- the round, doughy one with eyes as blue as Peeta's, but the expression in them somehow duller, and the sharper featured face, skin pulled tight with the severe way her hair is pinned back. Peeta's father and mother.
Katniss stares, wide-eyed. Despite having heard Peeta's stories about them, she finds his entire personality completely at odds with them, though still slightly familiar, like Peeta is the sun and they are the shadows he casts.
Peeta moves swiftly to her side, and Katniss tries to ignore Mrs. Mellark's appraising look. Mr. Mellark gives her a tentative smile, and she meets it just as shakily.
"Mom, Dad, this is my girlfriend, Katniss."
His father's large hand engulfs hers warmly, but when she reaches out to shake Mrs. Mellark's hand, her fingers are cold and stiff, barely curling over hers for the handshake. Katniss is relieved when she pulls her hand back just as quickly.
"Katniss," Mrs. Mellark repeats blandly. It makes Katniss' spine stiffen like she's being reprimanded by an old school marm. "That's an interesting name."
"Oh yeah, well, it's a plant," she offers, cringing when she realizes Mrs. Mellark is probably well aware of that already. "I mean, my sister and I were both named for flowers. My dad was kind of a hippie, I guess."
"A hippie?" Mrs. Mellark asks, making Katniss' words sound even clumsier every time she repeats them. "Well, dear, I think hippies lived in the 1960s. I doubt very much that you were born anytime before the 90s."
She says it with a tiny smirk, one that makes Katniss feel tiny.
"I'm...23," Katniss offers quietly, not knowing whether to curse herself for volunteering that, or hope that Mrs. Mellark appreciates her forthrightness.
"We're the same generation, how about that!" Peeta says brightly. "Ya know, that's lucky. I'd never thought to ask until now." His arm goes around Katniss' shoulders, and his smile never falters.
"Always did have a mouth on him, this one," Mrs. Mellark chides sharply.
"Yes, well, it's too late to correct, I'm afraid, Mom. Way too old to learn new tricks, right? Hopefully, it's an affliction Ben won't suffer from."
"Oh, that boy is an angel," Mrs. Mellark responds, her face clearing a little of its darkness at the mention of her grandson's name. "Where is he? I want to give him his gift."
"He's out playing with the other kids. Let's let him run off some of his energy first. You can just put the present on the gift table, Dad," he says, recapturing his father's attention.
He drops his mouth to speak, for the first time since Katniss has met him, but his wife interrupts.
"Peeta, I want to give him his present. I want him to know it's from me."
Katniss can feel Peeta's fingers tighten on her shoulder almost unconsciously.
"Mom, he'll know it's from you, trust me. He's gonna open them all in front of everyone, and thank each person individually, just like Delly drilled into him, I'm sure."
Mrs. Mellark seems to puff up at this promise of extra attention- of everyone being able to see and appreciate her gift.
"Oh, Delly," she says almost fondly- that is, assuming Mrs. Mellark has ever been fond of anyone. "Thank God for that girl."
"All right, out of the kitchen," Peeta says, opening the back door for his parents and shooing them out. "You two relax out back. There are drinks on the table, so go grab some chairs. I'll be out soon, I just want to check on this cake."
"I'm looking forward to it, son," Mr. Mellark finally manages, giving Peeta a grin. Peeta claps his dad on the shoulder.
"Oh, the cake. You did that yourself?" Mrs. Mellark asks.
"Yes, mother," Peeta says, his voice tight, and his patience clearly waning. "I am a baker."
"Well, obviously, Peeta, don't be simple. I only meant that you did it by youself? This is an awful lot to arrange, even with Delly's help. Katniss, were you able to assist with the cake at all?"
Katniss stops from where she was backing out of the kitchen, hoping to flee in the opposite direction of the backyard. "What?" she asks. Before Mrs. Mellark can jump on her for being dim, she continues. "Oh, no. Um, I'm really useless in the kitchen. Everything Peeta does is perfect. I don't want to be responsible for ruining it," she jokes weakly.
"Well. You're here to enjoy the refreshments at least," the older woman remarks coldly, before making her way onto the back porch.
When the door slams shut, Katniss releases a shaky breath and closes her eyes. Peeta's lips are against her temple immediately, his hands skimming her waist and his thumbs brushing against her hip bone soothingly.
"Hey, listen, she is the worst." Katniss manages a small laugh at this. "It's not about you. It's just her, I promise. And you got the introduction over with. You can avoid them the rest of the day, okay? No big deal."
She opens her eyes to find him looking down at her with such a warm, loving expression, she can't help but to tip her head back. His lips have just begun to brush hers when the back door slams shut again.
"Dad! Max says he got me a Nerf gun! Can I open it now so we can play with it?"
Peeta sighs deeply, resting his chin on Katniss' head. "No, Ben, you need to wait until you open all your presents. You have plenty to play with now, okay?"
Ben and his friend put matching pouts on their faces.
"Okay, but you said I could have soda today. Did you get me Dr. Pepper?" Ben moves to the fridge, and Peeta releases Katniss and runs to stop him.
"Hey! Get away from there, rabid dogs! Mutts!" he teases, pulling both of them away from the fridge. "The cake is in there. There are drinks outside. Go grab whatever you want and don't let your grandma see, okay?" He ruffles Ben's hair and opens the door, stepping back before either of the boys can run him down. "Jesus," he breathes, running a hand through his hair.
"Listen, finish up the cake," Kantiss says, moving to the fridge and grabbing a beer from the door. She uncaps it on the bottle opener on the fridge and hands it to him. "Don't let your Mom see," she says with a wry smile. "I'll keep the kids occupied, all right?"
"You're an angel," he says, leaning in to kiss her finally. She immediately seeks out his tongue, coaxing it into her mouth and caressing it with her own.
"Mmm," she moans when his hand sneaks up the back of her dress to caress her thigh.
"I forgot why I liked you in dresses so much," he says against her lips, bunching the fabric in his hands. "Not that you don't look fucking perfect in my clothes."
"Peeta!" comes a sharp voice.
They spring away from each other, but it's not quick enough. Mrs. Mellark peers in the back door and Katniss' hands fidget at her side, desperate to fix her dress and smooth her hair, but she knows that will only make it more obvious.
"Oh. Well, I see you're helping with the cake, Katniss." Her mouth drops open, but she can't form a reply. "Peeta, the kids are turning on the sprinklers and getting out of control. They're all going to be covered in mud before the food even gets out."
"Okay, Mom," Peeta says, interrupting her complaints before they can grow. "I'll take care of it."
"No, I'll take care of it," Katniss cuts in, running a hand over his shoulders before moving away. He gives her an apologetic look, but she just manages a quick smile and slides past Mrs. Mellark with her head down.
Katniss managed to wrestle the hose away from the boys and got them invested in a softball game instead. By the time she made her way back to the porch, her calves were splattered with mud, and she made a wide circle around to get a drink, avoiding where the Mellarks sat in the shade, Mrs. Mellark chatting amicably with Delly and the both of them looking polished and pristine.
Of course, of all people, Mrs. Mellark would have a fondness for Delly. As far as Katniss can tell, no one alive could possibly dislike her; at the most, they might resent her for being so irritatingly perfect. Katniss doesn't understand how Delly can possibly enjoy being around Mrs. Mellark. But then, Katniss also can't understand how Peeta could have possibly turned out the way he did with a mother like that, so she's getting used to being in the dark.
Currently, she feels more like a child with her nose pressed to the window, peering in at this perfect family.
Ben is in the middle of tearing through his presents. Peeta sits next to him controlling the mess while Delly hovers, taking a million pictures and wiping at misty eyes. Katniss doesn't see how a Lego set could make anyone cry, but Delly keeps muttering about her boy "growing up," and Katniss knocks back her bottle of Heineken.
Ben exclaims happily about every gift he gets, as gracious as both of his parents. When he gets to Katniss' shoddily wrapped gift, she straightens up in her seat. It's ridiculous, she thinks, getting nervous about a gift to an 8-year-old.
Ben tears at the wrapping paper, and Peeta has to catch the flying pieces. Katniss bites her lip in anticipation.
"Oh, awesome!" Ben exclaims, pulling a bow out of the remaining wrapping, the quiver of arrows almost forgotten in the moment. "A bow and arrow!"
Peeta's eyebrows raise in surprise, but he merely shakes his head and smiles to himself. Katniss can barely register anything but the thrilled smile on Ben's face.
"A bow and arrow?" a voice cuts in, dripping with disdain. "You got him a weapon?"
Katniss immediately feels 3 inches tall in front of this yard full of parents. Thankfully, Ben is too occupied looking at the bow to pick up on his grandmother's tone.
"Mom-" Peeta starts.
"Well, I-" Katniss struggles for a response, her face red with a mix of embarrassment and anger, the latter of which she has to bite back so she doesn't attack her boyfriend's mother. "It's really pretty safe if you learn properly. My father taught me when I was 5. It's no more dangerous than a baseball and a bat."
"And yet, one is used for killing things," Mrs. Mellark responds, shaking off her husband's hand when it comes to rest warningly on her shoulder.
"It's also a sport. Just like baseball," Katniss argues. "It's good for learning discipline. And patience."
"So is fly fishing," Mrs. Mellark says dryly, with a cruel smile.
"Oh, so you got Ben a fly fishing rod, did you?" Katniss snaps. The smile drops.
"Delly, how do you feel about about your son learning to use a weapon?"
Katniss' gaze flies to Delly's, and she feels a momentary panic that she didn't check with Ben's mother first, of all people. But she saved for this gift. For months. She had wanted it to be special. And when she sees Delly squirming uncomfortably, she can't help but feel a little betrayed.
The other parents shift visibly, some of them offering to get more drinks, the others herding their kids away to the snack table. Peeta kisses the top of Ben's head, drawing his attention away from the pile of gifts, and encourages him to join the others.
"I would teach him," Katniss offers feebly, whether to Delly or Mrs. Mellark, she doesn't know. "He would only use it when I'm around to supervise, if that makes you feel better."
"Only when you're around?" Mrs. Mellark repeats. "You sound like you think you're his caregiver."
"Enough!" Peeta says in a low, barely controlled voice. "Mom, Katniss is a caregiver. It's her job. She's also my girlfriend. And if I have any qualms about my son's activities, I'll discuss them with Delly myself."
Mrs. Mellark's jaw shifts, and she looks like she wants to say more, but Peeta meets her gaze steadily. Katniss has never seen him look so unyielding.
"Fine," his mother finally grits out. "Now can we stop with this ridiculousness? I want Ben to open our present."
"Yes, let's stop with this ridiculousness," Peeta mutters. "Delly, can you bring Ben back over here, please?" he asks, putting a hand on her shoulder.
She reaches over to pat his knee and gives him a sympathetic grin. "Of course."
Katniss crosses her arms and studies a crack in the concrete.
When all the kids are gathered around again, Ben opens the rest of his presents with equal enthusiasm, as if they had never paused. Mrs. Mellark gestures to her perfectly wrapped gift, and Peeta grabs it with a heavy sigh.
Ben struggles with removing the tight gold ribbon, and Peeta eventually just cuts through it with scissors, making his mother's lips purse. When he gets through the wrapping, he gasps.
"You got me a Wii?!" he exclaims, running over to give his grandfather a hug. Mrs. Mellark pulls him away and squeezes him to her.
"You deserve it. You've been such a good boy!" she cooes in a sickeningly sweet voice.
Katniss looks to Peeta, almost unwillingly, and sees him exchanging concerned looks with Delly. She knew they'd both been strict in making sure Ben didn't get too immersed in video games and had planned to wait a while before getting him a console of his own. Delly leans in and whispers something to him, accidentally knocking the bow over from where it leaned against the chair. It lands softly on top of the pile of discarded wrapping, and no one notices but Katniss.
Her hands are shaky when she washes them in the sink. She was asked to cut the cake, of all people. Like some sort of sick joke. Katniss had looked at Peeta desperately, but he was busy wrangling the boys so they didn't start attacking it with their hands, Ben's eyes still wide on the perfect creation, even giving Peeta a kiss on the cheek for his efforts.
If she weren't so agitated, she might have found it cute.
She looked to Delly for help, too, but she was sitting with the Mellarks again and Katniss narrowed her eyes at her.
The moment she picked up the knife, she could feel Mrs. Mellark's gaze burning a hole in her back. She tried to steady her hands, but the longer the seconds ticked on, the shakier they got. The first piece she cut was jagged and uneven. She had even smeared part of the Batman silhouette. But when she looked down, Ben was holding out his plate with a wide smile. She had managed to give him the piece that said "Ben" on it, at least, and when she slid it onto his plate, he hugged her with one arm.
"Thanks, Katniss!" he said happily. He walked away, but then turned back. "And thanks for the bow, it's awesome!" Her chest lifted and she let out a breath. "You're gonna teach me, right? My dad says you're really good at it. Like Nighthawk!" Katniss laughed.
"Your dad also says that angels kissed freckles onto your cheeks," she said, lifting an eyebrow. Ben tilted his head back and laughed. It was a good sound. "Of course I'll teach you, Benji."
"Thanks, Katniss! You're the best."
That almost made up for the rest of it, the way both Delly and Mrs. Mellark refused a slice, the former citing her new diet, and the latter eyeing the badly cut piece with contempt. Mr. Mellark happily accepted one though, and offered her a bracing smile.
Katniss watches the sun beginning to set through the window over the sink. She spends extra timing scrubbing soap into her fingers, trying to delay the moment when she'll have to go back outside with the other adults. Thankfully, it's getting late enough that most of them are already beginning to gather their kids and head out.
"My God, I should have taken a page from your book and worn flats." Katniss' shoulders tense. She turns back to see Delly plopping down on a chair at the kitchen table. "They all look so adorable, but hopped up on sugar and adrenaline they're savage beasts, aren't they?" Delly lifts her head from where she was focused on rubbing her sore ankle to try to catch Katniss' eye. Katniss turns back to the sink and dries her fingers one by one with the kitchen towel. "Except for Ben, of course."
"Of course," Katniss tries to joke, but her voice holds no warmth.
"Well, you must be exhausted!" Delly tries again. "Cleaning all day and then helping with the children and cutting the cake. Thank you, Katniss, truly."
At this, she turns around, unable to ignore Delly any longer. But she merely lifts one shoulder and keeps her gaze down. "It's no problem," Katniss says.
"No, really. It is. Ben isn't your responsibility," she says softly, and Katniss grips the counter behind her. "But you go out of your way. And I know Peeta appreciates it."
"Well, he has you," Katniss says, half in kindness- because she knows it helps that Peeta can have a positive relationship with the mother of his son- and half in bitterness she can scarcely conceal.
"Yes, in a way," Delly says slowly, like she's considering her words. "But I know I've had to stop relying on Peeta so much for everything, out of fairness to him. For half the week, I swear I feel like a single parent. And I know Peeta feels the same way. Or did." Katniss tries to meet Delly's eyes, but her stomach twists with discomfort. Unlike Peeta, Delly's kindness isn't necessarily synonymous with truth; more like naive optimism. "And with so many changes coming, it's nice to know that Peeta has-"
"Wait, what changes?" Katniss asks, interrupting Delly's scattered train of thought.
Delly's eyes fly to hers, wide in horror. "Oh! Nothing," she says, her expression shifting into a nervous smile as she waves Katniss off. "You know, with an 8-year-old, everything is always changing. It's hard to keep up!" Her trilling laugh meets Katniss' ears like daggers.
"You sounded like you were talking about something specific," Katniss cuts in, her voice low and careful. Delly's eyes widen again and Katniss realizes this is the first time she's spoken to her like this- distrustful, sharp, angry. There had to come a time when Delly eventually realized Katniss wasn't the meek, awkward girl she believed her to be, a time when Delly's tolerance for her would finally diminish.
"No!" Delly insists too quickly. "Unless…" she trails off. Katniss' stare is unflinching. "Well, unless Peeta has already told you-"
"Told me what?"
"Hey! There are my girls!" Peeta bounds into the kitchen, his bright voice followed by a loud thump as he drops Ben's duffel bag to the floor. Delly's eyes flit between him and Katniss nervously; Katniss' gaze turns to steel when it rounds on Peeta. "Delly, Ben's stuff is all-"
His voice trails off as the screen door slams behind Katniss' retreating form.
The label curls in her fingers from where she peels it away, the condensation making it easy to separate it from the dark glass of the bottle. Katniss drops it to the picnic table in a growing pile of discarded paper scraps.
"I hope we're not interrupting." The tone is dry and though it goes up in question, Katniss knows it's rhetorical. Disinterested.
"Nope," Katniss says shortly, glancing up under her eyelashes at the woman towering over her. She flashes her a fake smile.
"Good thing Peeta's adept at cleaning up messes," Mrs. Mellark continues, a dog with a bone.
"Yes, good thing," Katniss replies, matching the archness of her tone. "I spent the entire day cleaning a house I don't live in just so I could have my boyfriend clean up after me later. It was my master plan."
She peels away another piece, this one satisfyingly long, and drops it to the table. After a beat, she looks up to find Mrs. Mellark eyeing her carefully. She looks as if she wants to say something, and Katniss is more than ready to hear it, somewhat recklessly feeling like she has nothing to lose.
But when the woman finally speaks, her voice is tinged with affected lightness. "Well, I'm sure we'll be seeing each other again, Katniss." Katniss merely blinks at her while she shifts on her feet. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight, Mrs. Mellark. Mr. Mellark," Katniss offers tonelessly.
"Julian."
For the first time in hours, Katniss startles. "Sorry?" she asks, looking up and taking in the kind, familiar face.
"You can call me Julian," Mr. Mellark repeats, his wife having already made her way inside the house. "It was lovely to meet you. I'm sure we'll be seeing more of you."
Katniss nods quickly and when her mouth finally forms words, they come out in a stutter. "Y-yes, of course. You, too."
"And thanks for taking good care of my boys." His hand lands on her shoulders, large and gentle, and gives it a short squeeze.
He's gone before she can process the moment.
"Wow. I've known Mrs. Mellark for over 20 years, and I can count on my hand how many times I've seen her nervous."
The legs of a plastic chair scrape against the concrete as Delly pulls it up to the end of the table. She plops down into it, and Katniss wants to be annoyed at her propensity for bursting into situations, into places she has no business being- until Katniss realizes she doesn't lay any more claim to this backyard than she does. In fact, she may have even less.
"So here's to you," Delly says, handing Katniss another beer. She holds it in a weak grip, and Delly taps it against her own.
"You know," Katniss starts, sensing Delly's stiffening form from the corner of her eye. "Beer has a lot of carbs."
Delly relaxes and lets out a short laugh. "I already polished off Ben's slice of cake," she says conspiratorially. "I'll just start tomorrow."
"Sounds like a plan." Katniss lifts her bottle to her mouth and swallows a large gulp of the cold liquid.
"But really, Katniss," Delly says, picking up a conversation Katniss doesn't even recall. "I admire you. If I'd had the guts to put Mrs. Mellark in her place like that years ago, I would have saved myself a lot of trouble."
Katniss scoffs at this. "Oh please." Delly looks at her curiously, completely guileless. "You seem to be doing just fine with her."
"Oh, that?" Delly asks, gesturing to the lounges where she had mingled with the Mellarks all night. Her nose scrunches up in distaste. "Are you kidding? That's recent! It took me divorcing her son to become her favorite person. Giving her a grandson to fawn over probably didn't hurt, either. Neither of those things were a small feat to win her over, mind you, but I'll take it."
Katniss merely gapes at her, her beer entirely forgotten, but Delly takes a long pull of hers.
"But Lord, do I miss being able to just avoid her completely," she continues, barely acknowledging Katniss' shock. "Now we have to talk like we're old friends. Thank God Peeta only puts up with these things a few times a year. Don't worry, he won't put you through this more than absolutely necessary."
"I'm-" Katniss starts, but finds no way to finish.
"And I know he hated seeing her talk to you that way," Delly says in a softer voice, leaning in and putting a hand on Katniss' arm. "But he learned a long time ago that blowing up only encourages her. He just tries to contain it. Especially in front of Ben."
Katniss has had more than enough time in her 6-month relationship with Peeta to contemplate the details of his marriage to Delly. There is nothing quite so intimidating as the idea of your significant other having once promised to love and cherish someone else for eternity. But she'd never really considered this side of it- the side where Delly has known Peeta and been his best friend for the majority of his life, even before they were together. The revelation doesn't help. Not at all.
"It...it doesn't matter," Katniss says finally. "I'm not a child. You two don't have to run interference for me;, you have enough to deal with. I just have a bad habit of speaking without thinking." She sighs and runs her a hand through her hair. "I'm too old to be pulling this shit."
"Oh, I think it's wonderful!" Delly gushes, leaning forward over the table.
"Delly," Katniss sighs in exasperation.
"Okay, I know, I know! I say that about everything," Delly replies, propping her elbow on the table and resting her head on her hand. "But you spoke your mind, and look where it got you! Mrs. Mellark looked terrified of you for a second. Cherish it!"
A laugh escapes from Katniss.
"She really always hated you?" Katniss asks, her eyes down. Delly smiles at her sheepishness.
"Well, no," Delly admits. "When we were kids, she mostly just ignored me. Like she did to most kids, even her own." Katniss winces, but even Delly seems somewhat hardened to this fact. "But when we got older and people started pushing Peeta and I together, she started taking more notice of me. Very, very critical notice." Delly shudders dramatically and her nose wrinkles in distaste. "I think she only allowed it because she thought I was a safe option. My father owned the shoe store near the Mellark bakery."
Katniss leans back in her seat and finds herself listening with rapt attention as Delly explains the connections between their families, how Mrs. Mellark forgave a great deal if it meant an established family name and good money. Peeta himself has never gone into great detail about his mother, or even his background with Delly- the first topic undesirable because of their strained relationship, and the second because he probably assumed Delly was something Katniss didn't want to hear about. And though she might have agreed with that notion a few months ago, listening to Delly talk about her background with Peeta gives her an insight she realizes is necessary if their relationship is going to last.
"Did she want you and Peeta to get married?" she finds herself asking, awaiting the answer with frayed nerves.
"I think…" Delly starts, her face going very still in thought. "I think she wanted Peeta to get married. To someone who would keep him around here and, I don't know, settled, maybe?"
"Was there a danger of Peeta being un-settled?" Katniss teases.
"Oh god, yes. A huge danger," Delly says mockingly. "Unsettled as far as Mrs. Mellark is concerned. I don't know- Peeta was always so creative. And passionate. It was almost overwhelming sometimes, you know?"
Katniss doesn't know what she means. But she merely raises her eyebrows and waits for Delly to finish.
"Anyway, I think his mother was afraid he'd run off to Europe, be a struggling artist, something like that. I think she tolerated me because she thought I grounded him." Delly's eyes drop to her drink. "Probably too much."
"How do you mean?" Katniss asks delicately, though she has a feeling she knows what the answer will be.
"I kept him here," Delly answers. "I think we both felt obligated at first. To each other. But this is what I wanted. To live close to my hometown. To have a family. I don't even know what Peeta wanted."
Her voice grows quiet and shaky, and Katniss reaches out to grab Delly's hand without thinking. Delly looks up with surprise in her eyes, but offers Katniss a small smile.
"He loves the bakery. I know it. I see how his face lights up whenever he's working on something, or dealing with his regulars. You didn't get him stuck here," Katniss insists. "And he loves Ben. Like, more than I can even describe."
"Oh, I know," Delly says, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "I know he wanted Ben, at least. I always knew he'd be the world's greatest father. Even when I questioned everything else. I mean, Ben is why we got married."
Katniss' hand drops along with her mouth.
"Oh, you didn't know?" Delly asks with a laugh. Kantiss merely gapes. "God, this whole thing might have been easier on you if he'd mentioned it! He probably didn't because he thought it would be some betrayal to me, but Lord! Even I know it was a shotgun wedding, no matter how much he pretended otherwise."
"Jesus," Katniss breathes, struggling to process all the new information.
Delly crosses her leg over her knee and lets it dangle casually, looking so much more composed than Katniss feels.
"Katniss, I know today has been a lot. And if I was ever worried that you weren't as crazy about Peeta as he is about you, today was enough to prove otherwise," she says. "But you should know that even though I'm Ben's mother and one of Peeta's best friends, and those are just facts you have to live with," she says with an apologetic shrug, "my relationship with Peeta now is what it always should have been. And nothing more."
At this, Katniss expels a deep breath. She catches Delly watching her in amusement, and her nerves come out in another breath that turns into a laugh. It's so infectious that soon they're both giggling over their drinks.
"Well! I'm glad we got that out of the way!" Delly says, and Katniss buries her flushed face in her hands. "You're never going to have to deal with the 'jealous ex-wife,' if I can help it. Unless we're talking about how slim you are, or how Mrs. Mellark is never going to pull you aside for two hours to talk about how she thinks her housekeeper is stealing from her."
Katniss tilts her head toward Delly and gives her a wry look. "Well, I'm not sorry for either of those things."
"Nor should you be," Delly agrees, clinking her empty bottle against Katniss' again.
Delly is taking Ben for the night, her compromise with Peeta for how they were going to share his birthday. He'll be there the rest of the week, so Delly stops after finishing her one beer and Katniss follows her inside, a little less steady than the woman in front of her in 4-inch heels.
She can feel Peeta's wary gaze burn into her from where he sits on the living room floor with Ben, helping him pack up his most prized new toys for the trip. Katniss doesn't meet it though. She sticks right by Delly, just as Peeta had told her to.
"Okay, birthday boy!" Delly exclaims, pulling Ben to his feet. "Time to get you home before you fall asleep in a pile of presents."
"Dad said I could stay up late tonight!" Ben protests, a tired whine betraying him.
"What your father doesn't know when you're in my house won't hurt him," Delly says lightly, though her face is stern.
Peeta merely shrugs at Ben's pleading face, his eyes returning to Katniss a second later. As if Delly senses this- his clear impatience to speak to his girlfriend- she turns and envelops Katniss in a hug. Again, Katniss can see Peeta's eyes seeking hers over Delly's shoulder, but she refuses to give him any secret assurances.
"Thank you, Katniss," Delly says in her ear, squeezing her tightly. "And don't go too hard on him. He looks as miserable as a kicked puppy."
"No promises," Katniss returns, stepping back and giving Delly a small but genuine smile.
"Bye, Katniss," Ben says through a yawn, throwing his arm around her waist. Katniss drops a soft, quick kiss into his hair without thinking.
"Happy birthday, buddy."
When she looks up to find Delly watching her with glassy eyes, she mouths 'Stop' as sternly as she can. It's a struggle not to shoot Peeta a wry, conspiratorial glance, but that would be admitting they're on the same side, and despite the insecurities stamped down by Delly's confession, she still can't help but find herself deeply unsettled around the one person who was supposed to ground her. My girls rings like a taunt in her ears.
Peeta helps Delly carry Ben's things to her car and wishes them a good night. When he returns, it's to find Katniss on the back porch sweeping cups and plates off the tables and into a large garbage bag.
"Hey, you don't have to do that," he says as he approaches her, but Katniss merely drags the bag to the next table and doesn't even turn her head.
When she finishes clearing that one, she's stopped by a hand on her wrist, large enough that his fingers wrap all the way around.
"Why won't you look at me?" Peeta asks quietly. Katniss stops what she's doing and straightens up, unable to deny his accusation or even prove him wrong by meeting his eye. "Was it my mom? I know she was horrible. I'm so sorry, I just-" He runs his fingers through his hair in frustration. Katniss's teeth clamp down on her bottom lip. "Was it Delly? Did she say something to you?" More silence. "She's a good-"
"Yes," Kantiss finally responds, cutting him off, barely concealed anger tightening her voice. "She's a good woman. She's a good mother. She was a good wife. I get it. Do you want me to pin a medal on her?"
Instead of lashing out at her like she expects, like she deserves, Katniss thinks, Peeta's expression grows even more troubled. "What happened, Katniss? Did she upset you?"
"No," Katniss concedes with a quick exhale. "She didn't. You're right. She's wonderful. She was very nice to me., I have nothing to complain about."
"Then why are you pissed?" Peeta asks, eyes traveling over her face in that way she hates, like every pore is some symbol he can read and understand without her permission.
"I'm not," she grits out.
"You are," he contradicts, dragging his words out slowly. "Are you pissed at me?"
"Of course not!" Katniss explodes, relinquishing her hold on the bag and letting it drop to the ground with a rattle of plastic cups. "I have no reason to be pissed at you! Not for abandoning me for most of the day, because it's your son's birthday, for god's sake. Even I'm not that selfish! And I'm not pissed at you for not defending my gift, because I didn't even ask you first before I gave it to him. And he's your son, not mine!" She stops a split second for breath, but Peeta doesn't even attempt to cut in. "And I'm not pissed at you for telling me to befriend your kind, beautiful ex-wife because she really is that nice! In fact, she's so nice, I don't even know why you divorced her. Are you a masochist?"
Her questions hangs in the air, met only with the noise of crickets chirping in the twilight.
"Excuse me?" Peeta asks after a moment, his brow pinched tight in confusion, but even in his shock, she can hear the sharply controlled anger in his voice.
"No, really. I don't get it," Katniss continues, her voice erratic in the face of Peta's calm. "Because the one thing that worked today, that went just perfectly, was you and Ben and Delly. You are a lovely family, Peeta. Really. Sane and reasonable and loving and just…it's pretty clear that in this scenario, one of these things is not like the other," she finishes, holding out her arms in defeat. Her breath puffs against the night air, her voice straining with the effort of letting so many words tumble out at once, so unlike her.
"That thing," Peeta repeats dangerously, his eyes hooded, "is my girlfriend. And if being with you means I'm a masochist, then I think I'm okay with that. Because I love you."
For once, these words don't fill her chest with warmth. Instead, she closes her eyes in exasperation, wanting him to realize how much those words are probably wasted on her, how little she did to earn the sound of them on his perfect lips.
"But before you let that idea worm its way into your head, convincing yourself that you're somehow right, that the utter garbage you just spewed is anything close to the truth," Peeta says, moving into her space and forcing her gaze to meet his, making her jaw drop in indignation, "let me correct one thing, out of many. A masochist is someone who wants to be mistreated. Unhappy. And you make me happier than I've ever been in my life. No matter how full of shit you are in this moment."
The warmth in her chest is gone as soon as it comes, but instead of turning cold, it fills her entire body with a blistering rage. His face is so sure and placid, she wants to grab it and pull on his hair until he groans. She settles for moving back and curling her fists at her side.
"I'm full of shit?" Katniss repeats, and immediately curses herself for adopting Mrs. Mellark's tactic. "So you really don't agree with me about Delly? Your girl. The perfect mom and the sweetest little wife. You really expect me to believe she didn't make you happy?"
"She made me comfortable. And you make me crazy!" Peeta shouts, his cheeks going flush with his outburst. "And I was never in love with Delly."
He looks astonished by his own admission, though Katniss suddenly realizes that he must have confronted this truth several times over, even with Delly. The sorrowful expression that takes over his face confirms it.
"And she was never in love with me. We were just good friends, and we were so used to leaning on each other to deal with our families that we just...we just let them make us into this team we thought belonged together. But we don't. Not like that. Trust me, Katniss."
The words pour out of him like water, a dam breaking with everything he had held back from her. His tone turns pleading as he goes on, willing her to hear the truth.
"During our relationship, we rarely even-" He trails off and Katniss mentally fills in the blanks, blinking at him in surprise. Peeta brushes it off and continues. "It doesn't matter. It's no one's fault. I even thought for a while, near the end, that she might cheat on me. Not that I believe Delly would do that. Maybe secretly, I just wanted an out. And I wouldn't have blamed her."
At this, his head falls forward, attempting to hide the shame on his face. Katniss backs up a step, the rawness of his confession hitting her deep, and she's struck with pangs of sympathy for both them. But his head shoots up, and he traps her in his gaze. As if she were going to leave.
"No, wait. Just listen," Peeta insists. Katniss has never taken well to orders, but she waits with bated breath when he continues. "We thought love and some affection could turn into something more, or maybe just be enough, especially after Ben. But it wasn't enough, not for either of us. And if I didn't fully believe that when we split up, then I do now."
Katniss shakes her head, at a loss for where to even start. Which of his words to confront first. All of them blistering with such honesty it makes her throat tighten, forcing her protests down and making them sound weak in comparison.
"You and I-" Katniss starts, but she can't finish that because Peeta just being in the equation means he'll elevate it somehow. "I don't feel like I fit here," she says quietly, and she knows he deserves more of an explanation than that, but even the small grain of truth in that stings deeply enough.
"After we had split," Peeta says, like he never heard her, though the look in his eye says otherwise, "my expectations for relationships were even lower, because now I was a divorced dad with baggage and no real experience being in love. And yeah, Katniss, sometimes you're a pain in the ass. And you make up problems that don't exist."
Again, his sad confessions are tempered with challenges, so that before she can even begin to come around to his side, her spine goes rigid in defensiveness. Katniss crosses her arms over her chest, and a tilt of her chin dares him to keep going. He doesn't disappoint.
"But you're so good to me, and you're great with Ben...without even trying. Without even realizing it." She softens, and it makes her insane every time he does this- molding her emotions like wet clay, never letting them settle into one shape. "Maybe on paper, you think we shouldn't work. But on paper, Delly and I should have been perfect for each other, and you see how that turned out."
Katniss squeezes her arms tighter around her chest. Goosebumps raise on her flesh, the air cooling with the setting sun. She struggles not to yield to him, not so easily, but his pleading eyes turn hard and determined before she can fall prey.
"I don't want to be told who to be with anymore," Peeta says firmly. "Not by my mother, and not by you." Breath fills her lungs, but when her lips part nothing comes out, and he looks satisfied with this. "Delly's not perfect. You're not perfect. You're fiery and stubborn and impulsive. But I love you, and I think you love me, too."
"Of course I love you, you idiot!" she bursts out, voice shaking.
"See? Pain in the ass."
"Peeta, I swear to god," she starts, tears stinging her eyes. It shouldn't be this easy for him to shoot down her protests, to hold her here with the truth when all she wants to do is slink away.
"Be quiet," he says lowly, moving forward to grasp her hips. He walks her backwards until her backside hits the edge of the picnic table. His proximity forces her to tilt her head back to meet his eyes. "I didn't know what I was looking for before I met you. I didn't even know it existed. Not in one person. But you're it for me. You have to know that."
"God," Katniss breathes after a moment. "How many of these lines have you been saving up?"
"Those were all of them," Peeta responds, his shoulders slumping with exhaustion. He closes his eyes and presses his forehead against hers. "So I hope you were paying attention." When she exhales a shaky laugh, her lips brush his. "Whenever I propose, or ask you to move in with me, you're gonna hear 'em again. So get ready."
Her laugh this time is more like a small whimper. Nothing snarky comes to mind. No fevered objections or stutters.
"I'm ready," she says, trying and failing to sound like she's teasing him.
His hands move up to frame her face, thumbs sweeping against the soft underside of her jaw. But when he slides his fingers back into her hair, his thumbs go rigid, forcing her face back so she's staring into his eyes, his pupils large in the darkness making his irises look even darker than hers.
"Do you know how crazy you make me?" Peeta asks, his voice gruff.
Her hands move up the grip his forearms, but they're like granite under her fingers. Completely unyielding.
"Crazy is something most people would consider a bad thing," she whispers, but her argument is paper thin, even to her own ears.
It gets even weaker when one of his hands slides down her body, over the skin of her neck and collarbone, just brushing over her breast, his thumb catching on her nipple and making her gasp, continuing over her flat stomach while it trembles, and finally resting on her bare thigh right at the hemline of her dress.
His fingers ghost across her skin, raising even more goosebumps.
"Do you know how good it feels to be that crazy?"
Katniss laughs, but it catches in her throat when his hand moves around to her ass, the other one dropping down to meet it so he can grip her in his large palms and lift her onto the tabletop. She trusts implicitly that he won't let her fall, so instead of bracing herself on her hands, they reach up desperately into his hair, clutching the wavy strands and drawing his face close.
He avoids kissing her though, and she squirms toward him. His hands clamp down on her hips so she can't move anymore.
Peeta drags his lips across her cheek to her ear, his tongue laving the lobe teasingly and withdrawing too soon. Katniss bites her lip to hold back a whine. When he speaks, his breath is warm and taunting in her ear.
"You know, before? Jerking off was like a chore."
These aren't the words she was expecting, so she tilts her head back to study him with raised brows. The punishment for her sardonic look comes when one of his hands slides under her skirt and between her thighs, cupping her roughly. She gasps and her eyes fly shut.
"I'd get it over with like I was brushing my teeth. Just half-asleep in the shower, most of the time. And now, after being with you?" He drags his hand up slowly, his fingers curling just a bit to tease her through her underwear. Katniss' thighs clamp around it, terrified he's going to pull away at any second. She knows he can feel how wet she is already through the fabric. "I can make love to you three times in a night, and if you're not in my bed the next one, I lay awake thinking about you and stroking myself until my wrist gets numb."
"Ahh," she cries when he focuses on rubbing circles over her clit, the fabric between them causing even more delicious friction. "I know," she laughs, though it comes out like a cry. "I've gotten the calls and texts."
"I know you have. Because I want to hear you. Because usually I'm thinking about the sounds you make when you come. Or when I do this." He pulls her underwear to the side abruptly, finally plunging two fingers into her. Her head falls back, her heady moan filling the empty yard. "Or the way you moan in the back of your throat when you're sucking me off, like it's your favorite thing to do."
"Maybe it is," she teases, breathless. Her hips jerk with the motions of his hand.
"And maybe…" he draws out, pulling his fingers out of her and bringing them to his mouth in a way that always has her clawing at him for more. When he's done tasting her, his hand goes back to her hip and she groans at the loss of him. "Maybe I hate having to text you because you're not in my bed. Maybe I want you there every night."
Her hazy eyes refocus on him, taking in the seriousness of his expression. Even though his seduction has paused, her thumping heartbeat never slows.
"I'd save a lot on electricity," Katniss jokes lightly, but her skeptical eyes zero in on his face. "You want me to stay at my overpriced apartment even less than I do now?"
"No," he answers simply. "I want you to give up your apartment and move in with me."
Katniss laughs, but when his expression doesn't change, her smile drops.
"You're serious?"
"Very," Peeta replies. "You want me to tell you that you're it for me again? I can."
"I remember," Katniss whispers. "What-what about Ben? I mean, how will he- and Delly!" Before Peeta can answer, her hand flies up to her mouth. "Oh my god! These were the changes Delly was talking about?"
"Did she say something to you?" Peeta asks, his brows drawing together.
Katniss nods. "Something vague about things changing. Then she clammed up."
"Then yeah, probably," Peeta says with a short laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "She's always been terrible about keeping secrets. And I did talk to her about it. But she also could have meant her new boyfriend."
When Katniss' mouth drops open, Peeta grins in satisfaction.
"Seriously?" she asks, feeling like even more of an idiot.
"Yup." Peeta kisses her chin. "His name is Thresh, and she really wants us to meet him. And since she's been so understanding about our relationship, giving her blessing for you to live in the same house as our kid, I figured I should probably meet the guy and give my blessing in return. Provided he's not a dickhead, of course."
Katniss head falls back into his open palm, and he cradles it while planting soft kisses on her neck. They register somewhere in her fuzzy brain while she takes in the stars in the now-dark sky.
From the first moment she'd stepped into Peeta's house, she immediately felt at home there. And she knew a big part of that had to be his presence, and how comfortable and steadying it always was to her, even from the beginning. But it was also the warmth that filled the atmosphere like a drug, lulling her into a sense of security. Ben's toys neatly stacked in the corner. Peeta's paintings on the wall. So few sharp edges. An extra toothbrush provided for her when she kept forgetting hers. Like everything was perfectly tailored to make you feel like you belonged.
But it wasn't tailor-made for everyone, she realized. He hadn't gone out of his way at all to make his parents feel at home. The people who were so warmly welcomed there, who sunk into it like they did that big, cushy sofa, were people whom Peeta treasured and wanted around. And, she realized probably much later than she should have, she was apart of those select few. Maybe one of the only.
And part of her had feared she'd never really be invited all the way into this life, like his relationship with Ben, as much as she loved him, was always going to be a barrier. That this was a family she'd always exist in the periphery of. But he wanted her here. All the way in. No more searching through half a drawer for socks, or worrying about whether it was appropriate to insist Ben go to bed when it was late and Peeta was already snoring on the couch.
A hesitant whisper fans across her ear. "You haven't answered."
Katniss tries to pull back so she can read his face, but he holds her there, his nose buried in her neck. The fingers at her hips clench and unclench compulsively.
"Yes, please," she says simply, covering one of his hands with her own. He immediately threads his fingers through hers. His deep exhale moves the hair at her neck.
"Okay, good," Peeta says, pulling back with a nod, his eyes shining. "Because I already cleared out drawers and my porn collection, so if you'd said no, I'd have expected you to supply me with a year's worth of dirty photos."
"I'm gonna ignore that so I don't have to think about exactly how much a year's worth of porn is for you," Katniss counters, leaning back on her hands.
"You can still give me those photos though, if you want," he says, ignoring her. "My bedroom has really good lighting."
"Our bedroom," she corrects, and his smile spreads so wide it brings out the dimples in his cheeks. "And you'll get sick of seeing me naked soon enough, don't worry."
"I highly doubt it. But we can test that theory, if you like."
Before she can answer, his hands are pulling at her hips. She yelps and grabs at the table fruitlessly. Peeta pulls her off the table and spins her around on her feet.
"Put your arms up," he commands.
They're in the air as soon as he finishes his sentence. She'd protest, just for show, but she knows where that would get her. And though the idea of his answering punishment is tempting, she's too wound up to let him torture her. She's ready to comply already.
Peeta's fingers grab for the hemline of her dress and he pulls it swiftly, but gently, over her head. He tosses it carefully over a nearby chair like he doesn't want to damage it. Like he wants to see her in it again.
Katniss cranes her neck to search for him when she doesn't immediately feel the heat of his body against her back. But his hands land on her hips, urging her forward again. The edge of the table hits her hip bones and it would scrape her bare skin if there weren't a festive, plastic tablecloth covering it. She goes to lean back against him, to tilt her head back and search for his mouth, but before she can find it, his large hand presses on the small of her back, urging her forward. She squeaks in surprise, but goes without protest, the cold plastic pressing against the skin of her chest, making her nipples harden even through the fabric of her bra.
Katniss' cheek presses against the table and out of one eye, she can see Peeta lean down, keeping her trapped there, but rewarding her with wet kisses and nips along the line of her neck and shoulders.
"It smells like birthday cake," she whispers, forcing her drooping eyelids open and spying a bit of stray icing on the table a few inches from her face. Peeta exhales against her neck, making her shiver, and she can tell from the way his chest shakes against her back that he's laughing.
"It was good cake though, admit it." Katniss smiles lazily, and her eyes slide shut again. But Peeta's insistent hand in her hair forces her head back an inch. "Say it," he urges. If she had the range of motion to study his face, she knows there'd be a glimmer of amusement in his eyes he can't disguise, despite the commanding note in his voice.
"No." She moves her ass against him, brushing the hard length pressing into her until she's rewarded with his gasp. "I already stroke your ego enough about other things. I'm not talking dirty about your cake."
Katniss hears his inhale, but she rushes forward before he can speak. "Don't you dare make any bad puns about stroking, or I swear to God-"
"What?" Peeta asks, amusement still in his voice. His hands grab her hips and urge them forward, away from where she was teasing his crotch. But then they slide up and over her forearms, grasping them quickly and crossing them at the wrists, holding them against the small of her back. "What are you gonna do about it?"
"You gonna bind my hands there?" she taunts, but the breathlessness in her voice betrays her excitement.
Peeta leans forward and bites her earlobe. "No. Then how would I get your bra off? I'm not stupid."
"No, of course not," she intones, earning a swift swat against her ass for her cheekiness. "Peeta," she moans.
At this, he relinquishes his hold on her wrists, and in just a few seconds he's unhooking her bra and sliding it down between her body and the table, between which he only allows a few inches of space before he presses Katniss down again with a gentle but insistent hand. She lets the bra fall off her loose arms before she moves them behind her again.
This time, when Peeta leans down, he doesn't ready her with soft kisses and caresses. He goes straight for the jugular- almost literally. His teeth sink into the skin where her neck meets her shoulder, and if he doesn't quite break skin, he definitely sucks hard enough to leave a bruise. Katniss will yell at him later for all the concealer she'll have to waste covering it up, but it's a futile protest, especially now, when his teeth scraping that sensitive pulse point send a shock straight to her core, making her fingers curl so that she has to dig her nails into her palms to contain herself.
"Let me hear you," he says urgently, bringing a hand up to slide between her and the table, squeezing her breast roughly and then soothing it with a soft caress of his fingers across her nipple. Katniss squirms and forces herself deeper into his hand, craving more than the teasing, feather-light motions that pebble her skin. He rewards her by pinching her nipple, and she keens.
"God, Peeta, please," she says, her mind already conjuring up images of his tongue swiping across it too, covering her in his saliva. But as much as she craves it, she won't leave the position, not with his erection pressing into her backside and thrusting almost unconsciously.
"Spread your legs," he commands. So maybe it wasn't so unconscious.
Katniss complies immediately, her sandals scraping against the concrete. She feels a hand at her calf muscle, fingertips moving lightly before he gives the slender muscle an affectionate squeeze.
"You're half-covered in mud," he teases, kissing along the soft skin at her hairline. "And your hair is everywhere."
"Shut up," she laughs, and though she tries to sound affronted, she knows it's true. She's as dirty as any of the boys who left here today, and her loose hair is wild around her face.
"Fuck, you're sexy. You don't even know how good you look," Peeta says in that deep, lustful voice that makes her inner muscles clench.
"Crazy," she calls him, feeling giddy, and when he trails his lips down her spine, she can feel that they're turned up in a smile.
Until he grabs the waistband of her underwear and tugs down roughly. He doesn't even allow her to step out of them because his body is immediately pressed up against hers once again. He takes her wrists from where they were so obediently resting behind her on the small of her back. They're forced upward over her head, and she spreads them across the table, arching her back and feeling an exquisite sort of freedom in stretching out under him in the moonlight.
"Holy shit, you look good like this," Peeta says on a breath, laughing in disbelief. "But brace yourself on your elbows, I don't wanna hurt you."
Katniss does as he asks, realizing how little she wants to have her scrawny hipbones pounding into the table edge, no matter how hot the idea is.
"You okay?" Peeta asks. The only downside to this position is not being able to study his eyes, the most expressive she's ever come across. And being able to read all the emotions in them is a gift she's never possessed with anyone else. But she's knows right now they'd be dark and lustful and just slightly tinged with concern. His eyes are almost as erotic as his hands.
"Yeah," she says, turning her neck and finding his handsome face lit by the light coming from the kitchen window. "If this is the roughest part of the day, I think I can handle it."
Peeta moves forward again, and she struggles to follow him in her peripheral.
"I think I can make that happen," Peeta promises darkly, licking a line up her neck and then blowing air on the skin until it cools.
When her whole body shudders, it makes her ass brush against his fingertips, the motions of which match the telltale sound of a zipper lowering.
"What about the neighbors?" Katniss whispers, a frantic thought that comes a little too late considering she's stark naked and bent over a picnic table in his backyard, but her blood is currently flowing in the opposite direction of her brain.
"You're gonna have to meet them at some point. Here's your chance," Peeta taunts. She hears the shuffle of his feet a split second before she feels his hands at her hips again and his bare cock against her ass.
"Oh god," she rasps.
"You're right, this might not be the best time," he responds in a voice so casual it's maddening. "So you should probably stay quiet."
His voice goes low in challenge, and she bucks back against him, her forearms braced on the table.
"Okay?"
It's sweet of him to ask, and if it were anyone but Peeta, she'd be mystified at this ability to go from demanding to considerate and tentative in a single breath. But they also switched out condoms for the pill a few months ago, so his concern is sweet, but unnecessary, especially considering that if an accident were to happen- well, Katniss now realizes that the possibility has been downgraded from horrifying and impossible to just nerve-racking, which somehow gives her all the comfort in the world.
"Yes," she breathes in assent, "I want you inside me."
At this, he slides inside her, his fingers pressing roughly and making the skin at her hips go white. Even after all this time, there's still an adjustment for his size, but she's so wet it's barely a second before she's pushing back against him, silently asking for him deeper and harder.
"Katniss...God, you feel good," he groans.
Her forehead drops to the table between her arms, her panting breaths showing up in a mist against the pattern of the tablecloth.
"Oh, oh," she moans, failing to control their rising pitch. Peeta thrusts into her steadily, only slowing when she starts to get desperate in her noises and movements, and then he pulls out slowly, torturously, before slamming back into her again. Her answering whines are frantic.
One of his hands leaves her hip to pluck at her breasts, leaving the skin around her nipples red and sensitive, just the way she likes it. His other hand comes up and tangles with hers on the table. She squeezes it like a lifeline, desperate for this further connection, especially if she can't see his face.
But all too soon, he's pulling it away, dragging her arm along with it and moving it beneath them.
"Touch yourself," Peeta urges. "Do it while I'm inside you."
She'd rather he do it, honestly. His large, callused fingers so inconceivably deft, and more than familiar with what she likes. She almost tells him this, relishing the idea of what his response will be to her cheeky refusal. But she knows how much it turns him on when she touches herself. Even as she lowers her fingers to press against her clit, she can feel him swelling bigger inside her. His answering groan confirms this. Katniss moves her fingers down through her folds until they brush his cock as it moves in and out of her.
"Fuck, that's hot...Katniss," he pants, his head dropping into the hair at her crown.
Katniss turns her head hoping to watch his face, wanting to see his muscles straining, or the way his eyes roll back in his head when he's about to lose it. And just when she thinks she has him at her mercy for once, the hand that was caressing her lightly perspiring stomach comes up to cup the back of her neck and forces it down, her cheek pressed up against the table again.
She answers in the only way she can, bucking underneath him. But her restless hips only urge him on, like this is what he intended all along- drawing out her fieriness, her instinct to fight.
Peeta's hand holds onto her chin, keeping her head against the table, not roughly, but perfectly in command. His first two digits make their way between her lips, and she bites them. His answering thrust makes her yelp, and he moves his fingers into her mouth again, letting her suck on them desperately.
"Shh," he urges, his voice strained.
His fingers help stifle her noises, but after a few minutes, she's on her own again when he pulls them from her mouth and uses his wet fingers on her breast.
"Oh, god. Fuck. Peeta."
"'Peeta' is fine," he teases, leaning down and speaking into her ear, his sweaty chest pressed to her back. It makes his thrusts shallower, but he slides so deeply and snugly inside, she can feel him hitting a spot that makes her clench.
"I hate you," she moans pathetically, her fingers struggling to keep up the frantic motions on her clit.
"I love you, too," Peeta answers easily, though it ends with a rough grunt. "Are you close?"
"God, yes."
"Good. I can feel it. You're clenching so tight. Katniss-" he calls out. She almost shushes him, but maybe it just sounds so loud because it's right in her ear, right where she likes it, the sound vibrating inside her and down to her toes.
His thrusts become sloppy, but it doesn't matter because she's already there.
Peeta moans over and over, punctuated only by panting breaths, the short sounds urging her on. Katniss clenches. Everything. Every muscle in her body. Even her eyelids screw shut painfully when the pleasure crests and hits her so deeply that her legs shake. She lets out a long, piercing moan into the night.
Katniss' body goes slack, and she sinks bonelessly against the table. But Peeta doesn't even collapse against her. After only a moment, he pulls back, cleans them both up with a roll of paper towels left on the nearby snack table and sweeps her up into his arms.
"Peeta," she whines fruitlessly, her arms wrapping around his neck and immediately contradicting her protests. He likes to pick her up and move her around like a ragdoll, sometimes just to annoy her, but often after sex when she's spent and boneless. And though the independent, self-possessed part of her wants to object, it feels good to let him care for her, especially when they're alone. Feeling diminutive in his strong arms somehow makes her feel stronger rather than weaker, like being braced by a stronghold.
He carries her into the bedroom and pulls back the sheets before depositing her in their bed. He crawls in right after her.
"We didn't clean up," she says through a yawn.
"We're the adults in this household," Peeta says with a firm nod, resting his chin on her bare shoulder. "We can do what we want."
"Oh, okay," Katniss says, snuggling deeper into the pillow she always steals because it smells like him. "So you're going to clean up in the morning?"
"To make up for all the shit you had to put up with today? Yes, I will."
"Thank you," she mumbles, nearly falling asleep to the thumping rhythm of his heart against her back.
"And then you can officially meet the neighbors," he whispers. "Let them put a face to the wailing moans."
"How long do I have to live here before I can start making you sleep on the couch?"
Huge thanks to atetheredmind for beta'ing this, super quickly, too. You're the best!
Since this is my first story of the new year, I just want to wish you all a great one and thank you so much for reading. 2013 was the first time I ever wrote or published fanfic and your support has just been incredible. Thank you again! Find me on Tumblr as 'dirtytalkingpeeta.'