Yes, I know! It's been almost 6 months! I'm so sorry you had to wait this long for an update, but here it is at last!
Thank you to Lbug84 for betaing and Chelzie for prereading! I love you!
xoxoxoxox
Chapter four
Peeta
"You two are a disgrace to the family."
Rye and I look up in surprise. I freeze, the spoon of thin cabbage soup halfway between the plate and my mouth.
"You should take after your older brother more," Mother continues. "Bannock got married at 20, to a nice Town girl who's going to inherit her father's business. But you two? All you do, Rye, is run after Seam girls."
"I'm dating Myrtle now," Rye objects. "She's Merchant." I have to fight the urge to roll my eyes. He's been dating Myrtle for all of five days. Or is it six? Rye's 'relationships' rarely last more than a month. Chances are he'll be chasing some other girl within weeks, and the next one might very well be Seam. There are a number of things you could say about Rye, but he's certainly not an elitist. I'll give him that.
Mother raises an eyebrow. "Are you considering settling down with Myrtle Toller?"
"Settling down?" Rye sighs, and I have to pinch my thigh really hard to keep myself from bursting out in laughter. "We've been on three dates. It's not as if we've talked about what color to paint the kitchen." From what he's told me, they haven't really talked very much at all.
"Well, settling down is something you should be talking about, Rye. Your father was married and had a child on the way when he was your age." Yeah, and look how well that worked out for him. "It's just one girl after the other with you, and the vast majority have been absolutely unthinkable matches. You bed them, you have your fun, and then you leave them. And now it looks like you've started taking after your brother, too, Peeta. Katniss Everdeen? What were you thinking?"
I clench my jaw. I'm not surprised that Mother has heard about Katniss and me. I knew that she wouldn't be happy. The viciousness in her voice when she says Katniss's name is still unsettling.
"It's none of your business who we go out with," Rye mutters.
"It will be the day one of your Seam sluts ends up pregnant," she hisses.
"Stop it." My voice is low, but firm. Her jaw drops in surprise. I never talk back to my mother. I meet her eyes and, for once, my gaze does not waver. "Don't use a word like that on Katniss. Or on any young lady."
Mother's eyes narrow. She stands up from the chair and walks around the table. As if in slow motion, I see her hand coming towards my face.
She hasn't done this for a long, long time. It's been so long, she seems to have forgotten that I'm no longer a defenseless 12-year-old boy. Fast as a snake, I catch her wrist with my hand before she can strike my cheek, keeping it in a tight grip as I stand up from my chair and look down at her. Her eyes widen. What I see in them now isn't anger like before – it's fear. No words pass between us as we stand there unmoving, our eyes locked.
"That's enough. Both of you." Father's voice is sharp from the opposite side of the table. But he hasn't gotten up from his chair.
I release her. I sit back down and resume eating my bowl of soup. Mother returns to her chair, massaging her wrist. She looks shaken.
I look at my kind, but weak father, and I wonder why he settled. He has allowed his wife to push him around for nearly 25 years. He never once stood up for his children. The lines on his forehead have deepened over the past few years. Witnessing the misery that is my parents' marriage was what convinced me that I'd marry for love. I'd never marry because it was convenient or expected of me.
"Katniss is my girlfriend."
Mother gasps in shock. I ignore her. I meet Father's eyes, and I'm not quite sure what I see in them. He nods, once. Then he starts scooping up the last drops of soup with a piece of day-old bread, as if nothing out of the ordinary has happened. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Rye shift nervously in his chair. No one says a word.
We finish our soup in silence. Mother stands, grinding her teeth while she collects the dishes. Mother excuses herself and walks into the kitchen.
"Congratulations, son."
I turn around in surprise to look at Father. His elbows are resting on the table. His hand, covered with scars from years of baking, is playing with his empty glass.
"Thank you."
"Katniss is a good girl. The way she managed to feed her family after her father died, and after Lily…" His voice trails off. After Lily went mad, he was going to say, but he doesn't say it out loud. He clears his throat. "Well, it was extraordinary. You've been interested in her for a while, haven't you?"
"Yes." I hesitate. "How did you find out?"
He smiles. "When you were in school, whenever there was a school concert or play, you'd watch her, even though you tried to hide it. You also kept using any excuse to work in the back of the bakery at around the time Katniss usually came to trade."
I didn't know that I'd been that obvious. "Yeah. I've been noticing her for a long time."
"I'm surprised, to be honest. I thought Katniss was Gale Hawthorne's girlfriend."
Mother's footsteps come closer. Father keeps his eyes on hers as she walks past us in the dining room. She climbs the stairs without a word.
"She's not," I say.
"What?" Father asks, returning his attention to me.
"She's my girlfriend. Not Gale Hawthorne's. There's no confusion about that." I steal a look at Rye, who is looking at me with a huge grin on his face. My face feels hot, and I know I'm blushing. "Shut up," I tell him, trying to preemptively stop his jests, but he speaks anyway.
"Aw, my baby brother is in love!" Rye teases.
"I said 'shut up,' you moron."
Father ignores Rye. "You should invite Katniss over for dinner one day," he tells me.
I almost choke on my next breath. "What?"
Rye laughs. "Sure. That's a terrific idea." His voice is dripping with sarcasm.
"I mean it," Father insists.
"Mother's going to have a fit," Rye says.
Father stands up from his chair. "I'll have a talk with your mother." He gives my shoulder a squeeze. I just stare at him, wordless. Father goes upstairs, leaving me and Rye, both stunned, in the dining room.
"Fuck," Rye says. "That was… fuck."
"I know."
"That's the weirdest fucking conversation I've ever heard in this house."
"Yeah," I agree.
"It's really unfair, though," he complains.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, how many Seam girlfriends have I had?"
I can't help but laugh. "I guess that depends on how you define the word 'girlfriend,' but my guess is half..."
He rolls his eyes. "Whatever. All I know is that I've been with Seam girls for years, and not even once has Father suggested that one of them come over for dinner. But you? You spend a week or so with Katniss Everdeen, and boom! Father has a fight with Mother, and Katniss gets a dinner invitation." Rye laughs. "I bet we could sell tickets for that dinner and make a small fortune. Half the Seam and probably all of Town would pay good money to see the show. Poor Katniss."
I roll my eyes, because really he should be saying 'poor Mother.'
"Katniss will eat her alive."
Katniss
There aren't many things to do in 12 when you're young. I didn't really notice until now. Between taking care of Prim, school and hunting, I haven't had much time to be bored. When I've had some spare time, I've been perfectly content staying at home.
Now I'm starting to understand what my classmates moaned about back when we were in school. Even though Peeta has told his parents that we're together, meeting at his place is just not an option right now. I shudder at the thought of speaking with Mrs. Mellark. We usually end up meeting at my place and even then, it's hard to find some time alone. Mother does allow us to spend time in my room, but she insists on the door being open, which I think is incredibly embarrassing. It's as if she's expecting us to do something improper.
Thinking about our kisses and how they've been growing increasingly passionate, she might have a point about that open door.
Peeta got off work early today so we decide to go for a walk, if only to get away from Prim and Mother for a little while. There's not enough time before nightfall to go outside the fence, so we go to the river instead, despite the cold. Our options are limited. It's basically the river or the slag heap.
"This district is a dump," Peeta complains. He's throwing rocks into the river, which looks pretty in the afternoon sun, but I know it's lifeless. We're downstream from the mines.
I'm surprised to hear Peeta say something like that. He's never really seemed to be discontent with 12. Unlike Gale, I've never heard him say anything about politics or the Capitol. "What do you mean?"
"This is going to sound really superficial, but aside from the obvious things making 12 a dump – food shortages, peacekeepers, the mines – the district is boring. Plain and simple. On the Capitol TV shows, teenagers have places to go to. Cafes, clubs… places that don't involve having parents around or freezing your ass off."
"I guess." I throw a rock into the river, too. I shrug. "I never really gave it much thought. We don't have anything in common with Capitol teens." They can't get reaped, for starters. "It just doesn't make sense to compare them to us, I guess. They even look much older than we do."
Peeta laughs. "All the actors in those shows are at least 30."
"Really?"
"Don't you read gossip magazines?"
"No," I admit. I consider this new piece of information. "I guess that explains their perfect skin."
Peeta laughs. "I know, right? Not a pimple in sight. I wouldn't have known about their age either, if my mother hadn't gotten old gossip magazines from the hair salon." That's right, Mrs. Terran, who owns the salon, is Mrs. Mellark's younger sister.
"That's what you say, anyway," I tease him. "I bet you secretly love reading about Capitol celebrities, their boyfriends, and break-ups and dresses. Very manly, Mellark."
"Katniss!" He feigns shock. "It's not as if I like reading gossip magazines. I have to stay informed so I can have conversations with Mother that don't end with her yelling at me." He chuckles, but he still seems tense. His mother is a sensitive subject. "Would you go to the Capitol? If you ever got the chance?"
I'm surprised by his question. I shrug. "I've never really thought about it. We're not allowed to travel outside 12, anyway."
"I know. But if you could, would you?"
I hesitate. I don't usually dream about things I know I can't have, it's always seemed pointless to me. I've come to realize that even though I'm pragmatic, Peeta is a dreamer. "No. I think I would feel really out of place. Like I don't belong there. Their outrageous clothes, all the weird make-up and wigs, the superficial things they talk about…" I throw another rock into the river. "I'd like to go to 4, though, and swim in the ocean. I loved the photos in our geography book, and I've always wanted to swim in salty water, just to see if it's different from freshwater."
"You can swim?" He stops throwing rocks and looks at me.
"Yes, I can."
"Wow." He whistles. "I don't know anyone else who can swim, I think."
"My dad taught me in the lake I told you about."
"Do you like it?"
"Very much," I smile. "Especially on a hot summer day. I can teach you, if you like. This summer, in the lake."
"I'd love that," he smiles back. "Just you and me." There's something in his smile that makes my heart beat faster. Maybe it's the way his voice seems to go just a little bit darker when he says the words 'you and me.' It's as if he's imagining the things we could do alone and on a beach.
Is he imagining the same things I am? Does he also want to know what it would feel like to have his bare skin slide against mine? To have his weight on top of me? I can't him ask any of that. It's not proper. "Would you go to the Capitol?" I ask him instead. I need to distract myself from thinking about water droplets drying on his pale skin in the sunshine. Or maybe he tans in summer?
"Yes," he says, blissfully unaware that I'm wondering what his body looks like under his clothes. He wrestled in school, and I bet he lifts flour sacks in the bakery all the time…
Focus, Katniss, focus.
I've missed a sentence or two of his answer, so I force myself to concentrate on his words instead of… I shift uneasily. Thankfully, Peeta doesn't seem to notice. "… but I'd still like to see the Capitol for myself. See if the people there really are like on television. What if they're not? Maybe they're just like us when you get to know them?"
I don't know how to answer. The thought seems foreign to me. Sometimes the Capitolites seem like a different species altogether.
"And I guess I want to find out if they know about what goes on here - the hunger, the mine accidents," he continues.
"Why wouldn't they?"
He shrugs. "They only know what they're taught at school and what they see on TV, just like us. Who knows what they've written in their textbooks? Their books might be just as biased as ours."
"Biased?" I huff. "You mean 'full of lies,' don't you?" Gale has told me some stories, things he's heard down in the mines, I think. About what really happened way back during the Dark Days. I'm not sure if I believe all of it, but I trust Gale much more than I trust the school books the Capitol provides us with.
"Same thing, but 'biased' just sounds better."
"I guess." A hundred yards away or so, across the river, I can just about make out the fence through some bushes. The sight alone makes me angry, even though I know the fence is most likely off as usual. The fence is still a symbol of the fear and oppression that keeps us trapped in 12. "The people in the districts mean nothing to the Capitolites. They think we are inferior. How else would you explain the Hunger Games? There sure aren't any Capitol kids in the arena."
He snorts. "That would be interesting, don't you think? The Capitol kids would be hunted down within hours, with their wigs and shiny, sparkly clothes." He laughs. "And imagine those high heels in the mud?"
"Not exactly camouflage," I agree with a smile. But the thought of Capitol children in the arena is so foreign it's hard for me to picture it. "I bet they couldn't find food unless they came across a fridge, either."
"The Game Makers would probably send them one." His smile fades at the thought. Of course, in the highly unlikely event that Capitol teenagers would ever be in the Hunger Games, they'd get special treatment, and they'd probably win. High heels and all. He sighs. "Well, there's nothing we can do about it, anyway." He turns towards me. "Hey, is your aim with rocks as good as with your bow?" He's obviously trying to change the subject, and I'm grateful. Meeting with Peeta is my escape from the harsh realities of 12. When I'm with him, I can laugh, smile, and kiss. I don't have to worry about our situation here in 12 for a little while.
"I'm not really sure. Hunting small prey with rocks isn't practical, so I never wasted time throwing rocks to find out."
"So you're always practical, huh?" I scowl at him, and he nudges me gently in the side. He does have a point, although I'll never admit it out loud. I am practical. It's a necessity for survival. "Do you see that log over there?" He points at a log on the opposite bank of the river.
"Yeah."
"Think you can hit it?" He grins. "Come on, Everdeen."
I'm always up for a challenge, and for the next fifteen minutes or so, Peeta tries to beat me at a rock throwing game he makes up. It quickly turns out that being an archer does give me an edge. Even though Peeta tries to distract me by kissing me or startling me by making sudden sounds as I'm taking aim, I still win by a landslide.
"I'd win if we were throwing cheese buns," he claims.
I snort. "Only because I'd never throw away a cheese bun."
He looks at the horizon, where the sun is low. "We better get back soon," he sighs.
"Yes. Mother wanted to ask you over for supper."
He smiles. "I'd love that." He's seemed more comfortable about sharing our food lately, although he still brings food over almost every day. He tries to be discreet about it, but he doesn't quite succeed.
"There's something I've been meaning to talk to you about," I say. I've put off talking about it simply because I haven't wanted to think too much about it. Stupid Town party. "Madge asked me if we wanted to come to her party on New Years'."
He raises an eyebrow skeptically. "She's allowed to have a party? After coming home wasted just a few days ago? Didn't she throw up in her bed?"
"No, she didn't throw up in her bed. That's gross!" I roll my eyes. "Don't believe all the rumors you hear in that bakery of yours, Mellark."
"Okay, okay. Madge was definitely wasted though, and her parents found out that their pretty, little daughter drinks white liquor with miners."
"With a miner," I correct him.
"Even worse."
He has a point, but I choose to ignore it. "Well, she said her parents agreed because it's just a few of her closest friends. It's probably not even really a party, just a small get-together. A shindig. That's all."
He shrugs. "Well, it sounds fun. Rye's been asking me what our plans are for New Years', and finally I'll have something to tell him."
I take his hand as we start walking back towards the Seam. "I like it when you say 'our plans.'"
He smiles brilliantly at me. "I like it, too."
Peeta
I'm horny basically all of the time. I've fantasized about Katniss for years. Actually being able to kiss her and touch her is fueling my fantasies to the point where it's physically painful. I jerk off in the bathroom more often than I care to admit.
Rye knows. "You have the worst case of blue balls I've ever seen," he smirks when I step out of the bathroom at night. "It's a miracle they haven't fallen off yet." I huff. "It's a miracle your cock hasn't fallen off too, with all the jerking off."
"Shut up," I mutter.
"You need to fuck Everdeen. Right now. Get your ass up and go to the Seam. It's the only way to preserve what little is left of your sanity."
"Not everyone just jumps straight into bed with everyone and anyone who's willing."
He smirks. "Not anyone. I draw the line at 18."
I roll my eyes. "Well, thankfully you do now that you're 20, but it wasn't always like that."
"You can't draw the line at 18 when you're 14, Peeta," he winks. "If you do, you'll never get laid at all." Rye has been giving me way too much information about his sex life ever since he was 14 and lost his virginity at the slag heap.
I don't really want to get into a discussion about never getting laid, so I don't answer.
"Do you want any advice?" Rye asks after a moment of silence.
"No."
"I'm going to give it to you, anyway." Ugh. He loves making me feel uncomfortable.
"Keep your voice down," I mutter. There's no stopping him. "If Mother hears…"
My palms are sweating. Getting more or less unwanted general 'advice' from my older brother is one thing, but when there's suddenly a possibility of this being real, it's different.
"You're a virgin, right?"
"I'm not answering that," I say through clenched teeth, but I'm sure my deep blush gives me away.
"I'll take that as a yes. The most important thing is that you really need to jerk off first. At least once, maybe even twice. If you don't, you'll blow your load in three seconds. But judging from your activity in the bathroom lately, you've got that covered." I close my eyes. Sometimes I really hate Rye. "The second thing you need to remember is that no matter how horny you are, you have to get her wet first. Of course, if you remembered to jerk off, it's going to make taking your time to warm her up properly a lot easier." He winks. "The warming up part can be a lot of fun, too."
He grabs a pen and a sheet of paper from my desk. Rye is definitely not an artist, but I immediately see what he's drawing. "Rye!" I hiss.
"Think of it as a roadmap of some important landmarks," he says. "This is…"
"I know what all of that is!" I groan.
"You may know the names of all the bits and pieces, but you don't really know your way around them, now do you?"
Fuck this.
"Even if you jerk off first, you're not likely to last very long the first time, so you should really try to make her come first. It takes some practice to get it right if you've never done it before. I'm doing you a huge favor here, believe me." He makes some finishing touches on his drawing. "I'm sure Katniss can give you some pointers, too. She's probably been fucking Hawthorne in the woods for years."
That's what everyone thinks anyway, including me – well, at least I did until the Midwinter Dance. I'm not so sure anymore, though. Katniss said there was nothing between her and Gale, though that's not a guarantee that they've never been physical. Maybe on their overnight trips to that cabin by the lake. Or when they've had to spend the night in the shelter…
"Peeta?" Rye looks at me with an odd look in his face. I realize I've been lost in thought and forgot to answer him.
"Huh?"
"You just spaced out." He raises an eyebrow. "What's up?"
"Um, what if she hasn't?"
Rye leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Are you saying that she hasn't fucked Hawthorne?"
I cringe at his choice of words. "I don't think so." I shake my head. "We shouldn't talk about this. I mean, what I have or haven't done is one thing, but talking about Katniss like this… It's just not right."
He narrows his eyes. "If she really is a virgin, she'll thank me for this later."
"No, she won't." Katniss would be really, really pissed off if she knew about this conversation.
Rye rolls his eyes. "Okay, so let's just say, hypothetically speaking, that she's a virgin, too. That changes things. Radically."
"It does?"
Rye scratches his head. "Yeah. You really need to ask her first, so you know what you're getting into. First times can be exciting, of course, but they usually require a lot of time and patience. That's why I prefer my girls already broken in, so to speak."
"Rye!" My brother must be the rudest person on the planet. I can hardly believe my own ears.
"Oh come on, don't be such a pussy. So back to the point - you need to get her wet, which – if she's a virgin – requires time, patience, and quite possibly the Mellark tongue."
I groan. It's hardly the first time he's told me of the famous Mellark tongue. As if going down on a woman could possibly be a trait that runs in the family. It's ridiculous.
But I have to confess that I'm really curious about doing that with Katniss. I wonder if she'd let me. I shift uneasily, and hope that Rye doesn't notice my growing erection. Even though I jerked off only ten minutes ago.
Rye hands me his sketch. It's rudimentary, but it gets the message across. "So here's what you do. You start out with…"
Mortified, but also secretly desperate for advice, I listen to him, mostly without interrupting. Afterwards, Rye proclaims that he really needs to see Myrtle, and then he licks his lips and grins. It's pretty obvious what he has in mind.
Finally alone in our bedroom, I look down at the stupid drawing Rye made. The lines and little circles seem to blur in front of my eyes.
Fuck.
I don't know when Katniss and I will take the next step. It's not something we've discussed yet. I don't know how or when to bring it up, and I don't want to pressure her. If or when we do get to that point, I also don't want to make a fool of myself. Maybe I should've gone further with one of the Town girls who were clearly interested in me in school, just to get it over with. Sure, I made out with a few of them, usually at parties when we were both drunk. It felt good to kiss them and touch their breasts over the clothes, but it just wasn't what I wanted - who I wanted.
Now, I have the girl I want. Katniss kisses me, talks to me, and laughs at my jokes; she's my girlfriend. I want her so much it's driving me crazy, but I'm also terrified. I want it to be perfect, and I'm not sure if I know enough to give that to her.
What if I can't make her come?
I fold the drawing and put it between two pages of a book. Then I hide it behind the other books on my bookshelf, just in case Mother goes through our things. You never know.
Katniss
I'm putting my book back on the bookshelf, about to go to bed, when Mother suddenly clears her throat. I turn around. Mother is sitting on the couch with a cup of tea. "Katniss, I'd like to speak with you before you go to bed."
"Sure." I'm more than a little bit surprised. Mother rarely asks to have a talk with me, and she looks nervous. I wonder what this is all about.
"I probably should have talked to you about this long ago," she haltingly begins. "But you are an adult now, and with that, there are certain… responsibilities."
I furrow my brow. I've been taking care of this family since I was 12. I know all about responsibility. I'm about to open my mouth and tell her just that when she continues. "We need to talk about what your relationship with Peeta might lead to."
I swallow hard. Oh no. Not this. "Mother, I…"
"Katniss, I've been young and in love, too."
"Mother!"
"Will you please just listen to me?" Mother looks about as uncomfortable as I feel. I reluctantly nod, sit down on the couch, and keep my eyes fixed on the old and faded carpet. My cheeks are burning. "You know what happens between a man and a woman, right?"
I just want to die. Right now. "Yes," I mutter.
"Good. The time will come when you might want to… do that. I want to be very clear that I definitely think you should wait until you get married, but I'm a healer, and I know better than most that not all couples wait for marriage. If you choose not to wait, I want you, need you, to be responsible."
"Mother, we're not… we're not, um…" I can't even finish my sentence, I'm so embarrassed.
"I understand, but that could change. Katniss, this is a conversation we should've had a long time ago. Sometimes I worried that you and Gale…" Her voice trails off.
"Gale and I were never involved," I mutter.
"But Gale wanted to be. Right?"
I nod reluctantly. "How did you know that?"
"I saw the way he was looking at you. But I also realized that you weren't looking at him the same way, so I put off talking to you about this. It was irresponsible of me." This is quite possibly the worst conversation I've ever had in my life. "The way you're looking at Peeta now, though… that's different."
She gets up, opens a drawer and takes out a small brown paper bag. "Here. This is for you. Just in case."
I accept the bag and open it. I've never actually seen one of these before, but even if it weren't written boldly across the package, I've heard enough descriptions to immediately know what they are: a Capitol invention called the lubricated condom. Contraceptives that keep the… I can't even think about their method of action. My blush deepens.
"Where did you get these?"
"I have contacts. I sometimes have to buy Capitol medicines for my patients." I wonder how much getting me these cost her. "I can't stress enough that it's catastrophic if you get pregnant without being married. Peeta's a good boy, but the divide between Town and the Seam is deep, even deeper than you realize. His family may not approve. And Peeta may be from Town, but his options are limited, too."
"We've only been seeing each other for a week. Getting married is not something we have discussed at all."
"I understand that, Katniss. But if you're not responsible, you could end up in a situation where you'll find yourself an unwed mother to a starving child. I can't let you ruin your life. So I'm going to teach you how to use condoms, and how to keep track of your cycle if they are not available to you. One day, maybe years from now, or maybe soon, with someone who may or may not be Peeta, this information will be useful to you. I'm not going to be the mother who just stood by and watched her daughter ruin her life. I've let you down in the past. I'm not going to do that again." Her eyes are burning with tears now.
I take a deep breath and slowly nod my head. "Okay."
Half an hour later, in the darkness of mine and Prim's shared bedroom, I tuck the paper bag into my drawer. I hide it under some of my spare hunting clothes, because I know that Prim never borrows them. My cheeks are still burning.
Prim is asleep, and doesn't budge when I curl up under the blanket next to her and close my eyes. But sleep won't come.
I never really understood it before. Why girls and women make themselves vulnerable, all because of a man. When they taught us the mechanics of sex at school, I just thought it was gross. But when I think about it now, about Peeta's body against mine as he kisses me… I can't help but wonder what it would be like to be with Peeta like that.
Blood is pulsing in my lower body, and my right hand has somehow moved down to the outside of my thigh. I have to stifle a gasp, terrified of waking Prim. This is wrong. This is so, so wrong. But I can't stop myself, as my hand seems to have traveled to between my legs on its own volition, and my thighs are parted, without me noticing that I did so. But when my fingers touch the hem of my panties, I tear my hand away, my face burning with shame. I put both of my hands under my pillow, to keep them from drifting down again. I shift my body so that I'm lying on my side, with my back towards Prim, who's thankfully still sleeping.
I think I understand now. Why women take chances, even knowing it can ruin their lives forever. And the thought is very scary.
Xoxoxoxox
I decide not to tell Peeta about the condoms. It could come across as if I'm planning to go all the way. I'm not planning that. Not really. Not planning.
If I'm honest with myself, I am curious. His hands feel so good when he touches me. His body is so warm and firm, even though my fingers haven't ventured under his clothes.
Peeta arrives later than usual tonight. He says that he had to work overtime at the bakery. Prim and Mother went to see a patient before he got here, and Mother didn't mention anything about Peeta not being welcome when I was alone here. She must've known that he'd show up, though, because he's here every night.
We don't talk much tonight. We're too busy doing other things, now that we're alone in the house for once.
We're on the couch. Peeta is to the right of me and my right leg is draped over his left. Our bodies are turned toward each other as we kiss deeply, eagerly. Peeta's hands find my hips and he encourages me onto his lap. I move to straddle him, but the movement is awkward. I've never sat on anyone like this.
"Sorry," I say quietly. I adjust myself in his lap.
"No, it's good." He leans forward and kisses me again. His hands tangle in my messy hair as he leans back, taking me with him. His tongue strokes against mine perfectly, making me bold. Soon I find myself kissing his jaw and even down his neck. I stop myself before I get too carried away. "We should stop. My mother could be home any minute." I sigh in pleasure against his throat as his hands squeeze my ass over my jeans. A shiver runs through him when I sneak my tongue out to lick his skin again.
He groans. "I'm not presentable right now." I furrow my brow in confusion, and he blushes. "I'm… uh…"
I blush too when I realize what he's talking about. He smiles a bit sheepishly. My curiosity wins over my shyness, and I look down between us. I take a sharp intake of breath when I see the outline of his… his… what do I even call it? Erection? That sounds so clinical. Penis? Even worse. Cock? I feel my face burning.
"Um, Katniss? Are you okay?" I look up at him, startled. "You just seemed to drift off for a minute." He clears his throat and adjusts himself. "I hope I didn't make you feel uncomfortable. I just can't help it when I'm near you."
"Does that happen every time we do this?"
"Pretty much," he admits.
"But can't you just not?"
He shakes his head. "No, not really. Cocks tend to have a mind of their own. I'm sorry."
"No, it's okay. I didn't mean it as an accusation, I'm just curious, I guess. I have no idea how it works." I look down between us again. I wonder… "Can I touch it?" I blurt out.
He blinks at me, clearly in shock. "Really?"
"Yes." I'm surprised too, by just how much I want to touch him. "I mean, just over your clothes," I add hurriedly. He frowns at me, and for a moment I'm afraid that I've asked too much of him. "Sorry, forget I asked."
"No, it's fine, it's just..." He takes a deep breath. "Have you ever done this before? With someone else?"
I can't help but scowl. "You mean with Gale?"
"No, not Gale. Just, with anyone. Have you ever...?" He raises his eyebrows.
I bite my bottom lip and search his face for any sign of mocking or accusation. But I don't find it. "No. Have you?"
"No." He shakes his head slowly. "I want to though. With you, I mean." My eyes go wide. "Not right now. Just, know that I want to, whenever you want to." I nod my head slowly, processing his words. "You can touch me, if you still want to," he says, his voice a bit shaky.
Not daring to look at his face, I focus on the bulge in his jeans instead. My hand hesitantly moves down, and then I feel him through the denim fabric of his jeans. Oh. I can clearly feel the outline of his cock - yes, cock is definitely the best word - and he's harder and bigger than I'd thought. I feel something deep in my belly, and realize we're both breathing faster.
"Does that feel okay?"
"Feels really good," he groans. "Your mother better not come home right now."
He's right. If Mother comes home now to find her daughter touching her boyfriend like this, even if it's just over his clothes… and even though she did give me condoms the other day…
"We probably have a few more minutes to ourselves." I hope.
"In that case, is it okay if I touch you, too?" His voice breaks.
"Touch me where?" I breathe.
"Under your clothes." I freeze, and he notices. "Not down there," he quickly continues, "just up here?" His thumb strokes the underside of my breast.
This is so odd. I'm still rubbing his cock through his clothes and he's talking about touching my breasts. I guess I should feel that it's disgusting, or at least really embarrassing, but it's not. I'm surprised to realize that I want him to touch me. I lean forward and kiss him again. "Okay," I whisper against his lips.
His hand moves down to my belly, where my shirt has ridden up a bit. He traces circles on my bare skin with his thumb. I exhale shakily. It feels like there's a direct connection between the skin of my belly and that place between my legs. When he pulls the shirt up, just a little, and places his palm over my belly button, I can't stop a moan from escaping from my throat.
His hands are shaking slightly as he slowly pulls my shirt all the way up, as if he's giving me time to change my mind. I help him by raising my arms, slipping the garment off and throwing it on the floor. The cool air against my skin makes me shiver. I don't have curves like the Merchant girls do. Most days, including today, I don't even bother to put on a bra. Bras are expensive, and I only have one. But it doesn't seem like Peeta cares, because he's staring at my small breasts with wide eyes.
"You're so beautiful," he says, his voice raspy. "So fucking beautiful."
For some reason, his use of the word 'fuck' makes my core throb even harder. His hands, large and warm and with calloused skin from baking, close over my breasts, and I whimper. "Do you like that?"
I nod. I'm still too shy to consider touching him under his clothes down there, but my hands slide under his shirt too, encountering warm skin and short, blonde hair. I can feel his muscles twitching under my touch. To my surprise, he suddenly moves, lifting me by the hips again and rolling so that I'm lying under him on the couch. He moves hastily and a bit clumsily, until his head is at the level of my chest. It takes a few seconds for me to understand. His eyes are big and black as he looks up at me, and I'm so grateful that this is happening with him. Peeta makes sure that I'm comfortable before he does anything. I nod again, and my eyes close as his tongue tarts out to flick over a nipple. "Peeta!" I moan, and his mouth closes around my nipple, sucking on my breast, and I buck my hips against him. Damn, the friction...it feels so good, and…
Peeta makes a groaning noise and he presses against me, resting his weight entirely on me. His hips move rhythmically against my thigh... and then he goes still.
"Damn it." He pants heavily.
"What?" I ask, bewildered. "What happened?"
"I just, uh… I came in my pants." He blushes furiously as he looks up at me. "I'm sorry, I… uh…" He sits up, clearly embarrassed and uncomfortable.
I'm not quite sure what to say. "Does that mean we have to stop?" Way to go, Everdeen.
"Yes. I mean no. I mean... it doesn't have to, but... I need to go to the bathroom," he explains.
"Oh." My head is starting to clear. I know enough about what happens when a man ejaculates to understand his predicament. More or less.
He gets up, and quickly pulls down his shirt. I pick up my shirt from the floor and get dressed, too. When I look at him, I can see that there's a small darker spot at the crotch of his jeans. He grimaces when he sees that I've noticed. "I'm sorry," he says. "You were just so… so…" He's searching for words. "So incredibly sexy," he finishes.
I smile. I've never felt sexy before, but Peeta is making me feel like maybe I am. "So are you," I whisper. The way he felt against me, the sounds he made when he came… I lick my lips. He notices. His eyes darken. He takes a deep, shaky breath and steps away. He goes to the bathroom.
I sit with my head in my hands, only now realizing how worked up I was. 'Does that mean we have to stop?' Pfft. I sound like all of those girls I hate.
Peeta returns quickly, with a wet rag in his hand and an even bigger wet spot on his jeans. He looks bashful, as he walks over to the coat rack next to the front door and tucks the wet rag into the pocket of his coat. He turns back to me.
"I should get going."
"Why? What happened?" He's allowed to visit. My mother doesn't have to know anything happened here.
"There's really no hiding this." He gestures to his crotch. "Your mother will be home soon. It won't dry in time, and I'm going commando right now, so I could-"
"Commando?"
He gestures to the coat behind him. "Had to wash my underwear."
"Oh."
I stand, watching him reluctantly put on his jacket and shoes.
"Bye, Katniss." Unwilling to let him go quite yet, I stretch up and lock my hands laround his neck, forcing our lips meet in a long, hungry kiss. He might have... might have come, but the fire is still raging in me. He's the one who ends the kiss. "Damn, Katniss, I really need to go."
The whole situation is so awkward that I can't help laughing. He laughs, too, his face still flushed. "You'd better go," I agree.
"Yeah, I really better."
But he doesn't. Instead, he kisses me again. But this time, when he ends the kiss, he lets go of me and adjusts his pants. "I'm going. Definitely going this time."
"Okay." I bite my lip. "Goodnight, Peeta."
"Goodnight." He touches my braid. "You might want to fix your hair before your mother gets home," he says with a smile before disappearing into the night.
I go to the bathroom, and I see in the mirror that he's right. Mother really can't see me like this. I have messy hair, my face is flushed, and my eyes are heavy lidded with dilated pupils. I look as if I was just… I splash some cold water on my face to cool down, but I'm not sure if it really helps. My face is still flushed. I quickly rebraid my hair with shaking fingers.
When Mother and Prim come home less than five minutes later, I've just sat down on the couch, pretending to be very interested in a book.
"Did Peeta come to visit you?" Mother asks.
"Yes, he did," I say, not looking up from my book. I can't meet her eyes. I hope she doesn't ask me any questions about the book I'm pretending to read, because I don't even know the title. "He had to go home early, though, because it's New Year's Eve tomorrow and he needs his sleep."
I use the party tomorrow night as an excuse to go to bed early too, but it's mainly to avoid getting more questions about what Peeta and I talked about or did today.
xoxoxoxoxoxox
PS: When I posted the last chapter of TMW, I said I wouldn't write any more multi-chapter fics. It wasn't a lie, I swear, at the time I was determined not to write anything but one-shots (except finishing my WIPs, of course) from now on. But I may have started working on another multi-chapter fic after all *cough cough*. It's called "Alice", and it's based on the book "A Town Like Alice" by Nevil Shute, but it's nowhere near being ready to be posted yet. But please look out for it!
You'll probably get another chapter of Midwinter first, though. And the next chapter is - you guessed it! - the party at Madge's place. Which is going to be very interesting, to say the least! I'm not sure how long this fic will be - probably 6-7 chapters in total.
Have a nice weekend! And I do love reviews. :)
