AN: Slight trigger warning for this chapter (minor character death) and some implied abuse.
October rainstorms were some of Katniss' favorite kinds of storms. The nights were cooled to the perfect temperature and the rhythmic pitter-patter of the raindrops on the window was calming and soothing. At least, it would be if Katniss could hear the raindrops over her yelling at her idiot football team.
"I just don't understand! Why would do we keep running straight up the middle against the best run defense in the conference?!"
Madge shrugged and grunted some form of approval, since she didn't really understand what Katniss was talking about.
"Especially when our backs are so much stronger on the outsides!" She took another swig of her beer and glanced over to where her roommate was struggling to keep a straight face. "What?"
"It's just," Madge started. "I mean, it's only the beginning of the...second...quarter, Katniss. Calm down. Have a Jell-O shot."
Jell-O shots were Madge's second favorite thing about football games. The first being the "hot boys in tight pants" as she so eloquently pointed out at the start of every game. She didn't grow up in a football town like Katniss had, hadn't gone to a high school that cared much about sports in general, so before rooming together, Madge had never actually seen a football game. Upon hearing that, Katniss insisted on dragging her to the only bar in town that consistently played her college team, which was difficult to do since she cheered for the rival college than the majority of people on campus, and introducing her to the lifestyle, which included the free Touchdown Jell-O Shot. Now, whenever they watched games at home, Madge made sure to have a tray of Jell-O shots ready to go.
Katniss stuck her tongue out at her and sauntered into the kitchen to grab a couple shots from the fridge. She ran her tongue around the edge of the plastic container to loosen the Jell-O before sucking it down in one shot. She handed the other to Madge and plopped back down on the sofa.
Peeta. 7:16pm. /What are you up to?/
Katniss. 7:18pm. /Yelling at my football team and drowning my pain in vodka and Jell-O./
She glanced at Madge and bit her bottom lip. "Madge? Would you be okay with me inviting Peeta over for the game?"
Madge cocked an eyebrow. "You mean I finally get to meet this mysterious man who has stolen you from my life?"
Katniss rolled her eyes. "You've met him before."
"I was drunk. Besides, he wasn't your boyfriend then."
"Ugh," Katniss scoffed. "He's not my 'boyfriend,' we're just, you know, 'seeing each other.'"
Katniss. 7:24pm. /Wanna come over? Watch the game with us?/
Peeta. 7:26pm. /Who is 'us'?/
Katniss. 7:27pm. /Me, Madge, and about two dozen Jell-O shots./
Peeta. 7:29pm. /I am a sucker for Jell-O shots. Need me to bring anything else?/
Katniss. 7:30pm. /Nope. Just you. And dat ass./
Peeta. 7:31pm. /Someone's feeling sassy tonight ;)/
Katniss shook her head and tossed her phone next to her. "What now?" she asked a bemused Madge.
"Oh, nothing. Except that no one grins like that when they're just 'seeing someone.'"
Katniss threw a pillow at her. "Shut up and order the damn pizza already, will you?"
The first time the bell rang both girls stared at each other. "Five bucks to you if it's the pizza man, five to me if it's Peeta?" Madge wagered.
"You're on." Katniss grabbed the pile of cash on the counter and went to check on the door. With a smile, she turned back to Madge. "Oh darn, Undersee, looks like you owe me five bucks."
"You are so full of shit, Everdeen. Let the fucker in. Peeta!" She called in a sing-song voice to the open door. "Come in and out of the rain!"
"Thanks, Madge," Peeta's voice carried through. He kissed a scowling Katniss on the cheek and slipped his shoes off. "What was that all about?"
"Madge is just being a bitch," Katniss answered. "Hi." She leaned into Peeta's body as they made their way to the couch.
"Pay up, beyotch."
Katniss rolled her eyes and fished a $5 from her pocket. "Fine. But I'm not paying for the pizza boy's tip. So, ha."
"You never pay the tip," Madge shot back. "Peeta, you want a beer, since someone is being rude tonight?"
Peeta looked between the roommates, both with sarcastic grins hiding their pretend feud. "Uh, sure, thanks."
Madge mockingly laughed at Katniss and jumped up to get a beer from the fridge, just as the doorbell rang with their dinner. "So, Peeta," she started as she handed him a beer and a slice of pizza. "Tell me about yourself. Katniss hasn't really shared too many details about you with her best friend slash roommate. What do you do?"
Katniss' eyes widened for a second. It wasn't that she had intentionally kept personal details about Peeta to herself. In fact, she was quite certain there were only two people in the world who would accept her for whatever they were doing and one happened to be her best friend slash roommate. Things just hadn't really come up. Especially that. It wasn't that Katniss thought Madge would judge her for sleeping with her former professor, had it been any other former professor. Not the former professor who she used to consistently complain about. Not the former professor she had, on multiple occasions, called a prickless, soulless, self-righteous bastard who even the cheapest whore wouldn't screw if she were wasted. It certainly wouldn't bode well for Katniss if it turned out that she was lower than said cheap whore who actually bragged to Madge about how good Peeta was in bed. She stuffed half a slice of pizza into her mouth and bumped Peeta's leg with her foot.
He tapped his beer can against her knee and answered without missing a beat. "I am a teacher, actually."
Katniss let out an inaudible sigh of relief as the two kept conversing normally. Peeta continuously bounced the can on her knee gently and she finally relaxed enough to turn her attention back to the halftime statistics no one else seemed to care about. As it turned out, despite being a male born and raised in the Midwest, Peeta was about as knowledgeable as Madge when it came to football. But he was just as content to goad Katniss on and celebrate when her team finally started to play better and eventually take the lead. They ran out of Jell-O shots before the end of the fourth quarter because Peeta and Madge created some new drinking game where they took a shot anytime Katniss sat but then stood back up less than a minute later.
By the end of the game, Katniss' emotions had flip-flopped between irrationally angry and uncontrollably happy more times than either could keep track of, but ultimately resulted in an excited, somewhat exhausted apartment. It was Madge's idea to watch a movie afterward, rather than going out to do something, which the others readily agreed to.
"I'll find us some blankets. You two wanna pick out a movie? Nothing-"
"Nothing scary, I know," Katniss finished. She turned to Peeta and in a hushed voice added, "We don't even have any scary movies out here. So, what are you thinking? Funny? Adventure?"
"Hmm," Peeta wandered behind her as she searched through the bookcase full of their shared DVD collection. He reached around her, pressing his chest against her back. He dipped his head, his warm breath tickling her ear. She smirked and let her head fall back on his chest. "All that cheering wear you out?" he mused.
"Have I scared you off with my rabid obsession?" she joked.
"Not even close, sweetheart." He kissed her temple. "It only makes you more adorable."
"Blech. I'm not adorable."
"No, but the pair of you are," Madge added, leaning against the chair she had been sitting on with a smirk and an armful of blankets. "Did you pick something or should I just go back in my room with headphones?"
"Shut up, Madge." Katniss grabbed one of their favorites off the shelf and tossed it at her. "Be useful and skip past the previews, will you?" She smiled smugly at Madge and nodded at Peeta toward the couch.
"Should I leave the lights on? This is a PG-13 apartment, you know"
"Oh my God, Madge! Turn off the damn lights and start the stupid movie already." Katniss hid her face in her hands. The playful banter with Madge was always that, playful, but having Peeta around while Madge insinuated that they couldn't keep their hands to themselves was mortifying. As soon as the lights were off and everyone was settled under their blankets, Peeta pulled her close to him and she forgot all about her roommate as his scent and warmth overtook her. She rested her head against his shoulder and lost herself both in the movie and him.
Halfway through, Madge yawned loudly and slid out of her chair. "I'm going to bed. You two going to be okay?" Katniss waved her off and Madge just shook her head and shuffled into her bedroom. But not before throwing back one more jab. "Just put down a blanket or something, okay? Because I still have to sit on that couch."
"Good night, Madge!" Katniss shouted back. She was surprised to feel Peeta's chuckle. "What?"
"You two, how close you are. It's nice. Almost makes me miss having a roommate. Almost."
She rolled her eyes. "She's a pain."
"Could be worse. She could still be out here instead of letting us have time to ourselves," he said with a twinkle in his eye. "I had a roommate in college who could not take a hint, so my girlfriend and I always had to get creative with where we could fool around."
"Are you trying to say you want to fool around, Peeta Mellark?"
"That's exactly what I'm saying," he answered, pulling her legs until she was lying flat against the sofa cushions and he hovered above her. "Complaining?"
She hooked her hand behind his neck and pulled his face to hers. "Never." Their lips met in a fever, pressing hotly against one another. His tongue spread her lips and met with hers, dancing inside her mouth as they pressed their bodies closer. His hand tangled in her hair, pulling a few strands loose with his fingers. The other slipped under her shirt as he deepened their kiss. Her hips twitched under his, their legs tangling together. She got the leverage she wanted and began turning slowly so eventually it was Peeta on his back and Katniss lying on top.
"Well look at you, sneaky girl," he muttered against her lips.
"Shut up," she groaned when both of his hands trailed under her shirt, up her torso to the sides of her breasts. His hands roamed over her body, his clipped fingernails scratching her skin lightly, down to the waistband of her jeans. He squeezed his hands as far into her jeans as possible, his fingertips just brushing over the curve of her ass before he grunted in frustration.
"Off," he said, scowling at her pants.
She lifted herself up and returned his look with one of her own. "Excuse me, Peeta Mellark, but this is my house and therefore, we play by my rules. Rule number one in this house is that I wear the pants. Which in this case means..." she smirked and let her eyes drift down to the bulge in his jeans. She shifted her hips against him, eliciting a low exhale as she did. She lifted the hem of his shirt up and began planting kisses down his chest. She let her tongue trail after her lips, tracing down the dark blonde hair that trailed down to his jeans.
"Off," she mimicked in a low voice, her face just inches from the button. Peeta knew if he could move at this moment, he would, but he was too enraptured by her small fingers quickly working his pants open. He was proud of himself for being able to raise his hips enough for her to slide his jeans and black boxer-briefs down.
She wrapped her hand around his erection and quickly found a rhythm, her brain working hard to remember how her exes had liked it and how Peeta had shown her that night at his apartment. She experimented by twisting her wrist as she pumped his cock, using the bit of fluid from the tip for lubrication.
She scooted back to sit on her ankles and covered the head of his cock with her mouth. He let out a deep moan when she closed her lips around him and licked the tip with her tongue. She took a little more of him with each press of her mouth, swirling her tongue as she bobbed up and down, her hand covering what she couldn't fit in her mouth, so every inch of his cock was being touched. His fingers found their way back to her hair, wrapping around the tendrils that came loose from her braid.
She forced her eyes open, keeping grey locked on his blue. His hips would spasm up every so often and she could see the look in his eye - desire mixed with a hint of guilt for subconsciously forcing his cock deeper into her mouth. She took a deep breath and relaxed her jaw, wondering just how much of him she could fit without gagging. When the tip hit the back of her throat, she paused and forced herself to take just a little more.
The deep rumbling that came from Peeta as she did that was enough encouragement. She blocked the feeling from her head and continued to suck him, taking him that deep whenever possible. Her other hand moved to his balls, massaging them as she increased the pressure from her mouth. She could feel his body begin to tremble, his fingers tightening in her hair and she couldn't help but smile.
"Katniss." His breath was labored and when she looked back up at him, his eyes were screwed shut and his head was thrown back on the armrest of the couch. "I'm..."
She released him with a quiet pop only long enough to tell him that she wanted him to, that she needed to make him feel good, that she couldn't wait to taste him. He let out another hard breath and she returned her mouth to his cock. She could feel his balls tightening in her palm and she took a few deep breaths, preparing herself for him. He jerked and moaned as he came. She closed her eyes and just kept swallowing as he filled her mouth. She gave the head one final lick and sat back on her feet.
He opened his eyes, a groggy smile on his lips. "Hey." He reached for her and pulled her down so her head rested on his chest. "That was...uh..."
"Okay?" she asked.
He kissed the crown of her head, right where his fingers had been entangled. "More than okay. Totally unexpected."
She smiled into his shirt. "Good." She let the steadying rise and fall of his chest lull her into peacefulness. He pulled a blanket over them and wrapped his arms around her. The rain continued to fall against the window. They watched whatever was left of the movie that way, wrapped up each other's warmth, kissing each other and running their hands over the other's body.
After the movie, when Katniss finally peeled herself off of Peeta and began folding the blanket that had been covering them, she gave him a look. "It's pretty late. You could...stay...if you wanted."
He buttoned his jeans and began cleaning up the plates around the living room. "Ah, thanks, sweetheart, but I should probably get home. I've got an early morning tomorrow."
"On Sunday?" she joked.
He shrugged. "Have to keep up with the academic life, even on the weekends."
She nodded and silently took the plates from him, moving quickly to finish cleaning.
"Hey," he reached for her and pulled her close to him. "It's not that I don't want to, okay? Fall semester is the best time to collect data and I have to keep on top of things if I want to start on the tenure track. But it's nothing to do with you." He lifted her chin with his fingers and kissed her. "I promise."
"Okay," she conceded, still not happy but begrudgingly understanding of what he needed to do.
"Walk me to my truck, though?" he asked with a crooked smile. "Even though it's raining?"
She rolled her eyes but agreed, sliding the remaining pizza into the fridge and slipping on her flip flops. They walked next to each other down the stairs to the main door and out into the drizzling rain. Katniss was ready to step out from under the overhang when Peeta's grip pulled her back. "What are you doing?"
"Shh," he said, with a finger to his lips. He nodded his head to the edge of the steps and squatted down. There, caked in mud and barely visible, was a tiny, mangled kitten, shaking and shivering in the cold. "Hey there, little one," Peeta cooed, reaching his hand out to the kitten. It eyed him and cautiously sniffed the back of his knuckles before letting out a quiet squeak and nuzzling against him. Peeta picked it up and brought it under the overhang. "Look at it, no tags, poor baby."
Katniss cocked an eyebrow at him. Poor baby? The thing fit comfortably in one of his hands, obviously the runt of the litter, left behind because it wasn't able to keep up with the rest of the clan. She had little sympathy for stray cats; their neighborhood was full of them, especially runts that couldn't survive on their own. And here was Peeta, not only holding this mongrel but petting it and letting it rub its muddy head against his face. "What are you doing?" she asked, as he tucked it under his arm.
"What? Someone's got to take care of this little baby," he answered, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Unless you want to."
Katniss scowled. No. She did not want that cat. "Uh, I can't. Um...Madge is allergic," she lied. Somehow watching him take care of that tiny little thing made Katniss realize that if she told him she was one of those rare women who didn't like baby things, it would turn him off. It was easier to blame it on Madge's non-existent allergies than on her own missing maternal gene.
"Well, then I guess I'll have to take it," Peeta answered. The kitten meowed in response, looking up at him with big eyes. "Yes I will," he said down to the kitten, oblivious to the way Katniss watched their interaction with disgust. She corrected her features as soon as he looked up. He kissed her cheek and smiled. "Thank you for inviting me over, Katniss. I'll call you soon?"
"Uh, sure," she agreed, still eyeing the kitten under his arm. She could have sworn it narrowed its eyes back at her, mirroring the scowl she often wore. Even as she slept, she saw that scowling cat, imagining it hissing at her threats to drown it when Peeta wasn't looking.
A sharp knock on his door frame pulled Peeta out of his focused reading of one of the journal articles stacked on his desk. "Office hours don't start until 2," he called, without looking up.
"Good thing I'm not in need of your assistance then, Mellark," Johanna replied. "Only your presence for lunch."
He sighed and ran his hand through his hair, messing up any semblance of neatness it may have had. "I don't know, Johanna, I really need to get through these to find some reasoning for my hypothesis."
"How long have you been at it?" she asked, entering his office and plopping down on his couch. She grabbed one of the books he kept on his bookcase and absentmindedly flipped through it.
"All morning," he admitted, waving the stack of articles at his feet. "I just can't seem to find what I'm looking for in these."
"Isn't that good, though, to blaze your own trail?"
Peeta sighed again. "Kind of. Sometimes. Probably. It's just frustrating. I'm not looking to reinvent the wheel, just understand it better, I guess."
"You know what I think?" Johanna asked, tossing the book on the floor near the bookcase.
"Do I want to know?" Peeta liked Johanna, obviously; the two met in graduate school and her presence here made his decision to come that much easier for him. But at times, even he couldn't handle her crass and impulsive nature.
She rose and walked over to him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and forcing the article he had been reading down to his desk. "I think you need a break. Come on, my treat."
Peeta gave her a surprised look. "Your treat? What happened to the Johanna who could weasel her way out of paying for anything?"
Johanna let out a laugh but pulled on his arm. "First time for everything. Come on, Mellark."
Peeta couldn't help but feel paranoid when he and Johanna searched the unofficial "Professor's Corner" in the Union for a place to sit. As if it wasn't enough that there was a very obvious hush that fell over whichever table they walked by, the whispers started right back up once they passed. If Johanna had noticed anything, she didn't let on, so he tried to shake it himself, though he was unable to ignore it completely.
Especially when one particularly unsavory professor from biology wouldn't stop watching him. With that little smirk on his face. And the unnerving look in his eye that made Peeta more uncomfortable than anything else. He turned his chair as much as possible to face Johanna instead. "So what's new in the world of English?"
Johanna snorted over her forkful of chicken salad and shook her head. "More of the usual. I'm the bottom of the totem pole so I get all the whiny freshmen who can't seem to figure out why they need to learn how to write correctly."
"Oof," Peeta agreed, unwrapping his sandwich. "That's never a good sign."
"Oh, it gets better. And by better, I mean horrifically worse. In my lit class, when I asked for my students' favorite authors, it was like I was speaking Martian or something. I mean, I got nothing. Crickets. Quieter than crickets. I almost died."
"They couldn't come up with a single author?" Peeta asked in shock. "I mean, they couldn't just make something up? Shakespeare, Twain, Hemingway, Seuss?"
Johanna took a long sip of her pop. "Apparently not. I mean, I would have even accepted that vampire chick for God's sake!"
Peeta bit into his food to hide his grin. Johanna, for all her rough edges, was a bit of a literary snob. She could rattle off the most prominent Russian authors from the 15th century that you never knew you didn't know until she explained how they influenced Stan Lee's comic book heroes. Most modern, popular authors had not, in her mind, proven themselves to be worth her time yet, so to be willing to accept one as a "favorite author" meant she was seriously desperate with her students. He suddenly felt far more concerned for her students' well-being this semester. "And what of your new boy? Does he have a favorite author?"
"Yeah, whoever wrote the fucking Karma Sutra."
"Jesus, Johanna!" Peeta answered, once he got the wedge of bread unclogged from his throat at her lack of decorum.
She shrugged at him, smiling fondly. "Sorry, Peet. I forget about your delicate ears."
"At least warn a guy before you start bragging about your sex life. And here I was thinking it'd be whoever wrote the newest 'Guide to Bartending' or something. Good to see he can expand his horizons."
Johanna narrowed her eyes at her friend. "My, my, Dr. Mellark. Someone is being very judgmental."
"I'm not being judgmental. I'm just surprised, is all. He doesn't really seem to be your type."
"My type?"
Peeta set his sandwich down and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "You know, he's not...you know."
"No, Peeta. I don't know," Johanna answered, clearly knowing but wanting him to actually say what he was thinking.
"I mean, did he even go to college?"
Johanna cocked an eyebrow. "You think because he's a bartender that he didn't go to college?"
"Did he?"
Johanna and Peeta eyed each other for a few minutes before she broke down and laughed. "Fine, he didn't go to college. And he isn't as well read as some of my exes, but look how well those relationships ended up." She stabbed a piece of chicken and stuffed it into her mouth. "Gale's different. He's not one of those pretentious know-it-alls who tries to overcompensate by proving how smart he is or any of that bullshit. He just calls shit like he sees it and wants to enjoy life. It's fun."
"Aww. Does Johanna actually like someone?" Peeta asked in his best baby voice. He laughed and ducked when she threw a chunk of ice from her drink at his head. "No, I think that's great. I've met him a handful of times and he seemed like a nice guy."
She screwed up her face. "Oh, he's more than nice, Peeta my friend. Speaking of..." Her conspiratorial smile returned and she waggled her eyebrows. "How is your little friend?"
He knew he was being paranoid, but the corner of the union seemed to fall silent at that exact moment, as if all the professors were waiting to hear his response. He cleared his throat and tried to quiet his voice, hoping it wouldn't carry too far. "Uh, she's good. Been keeping busy, you know."
"So screwing a professor doesn't have its benefits?" Johanna joked. "Girl still has to keep up her grades?"
"Ha, ha," he deadpanned, flicking the last piece of his sandwich bread at her.
"But I guess we can't be too surprised that Dr. Mellark is sleeping with a student. It wouldn't be the first time."
Peeta felt the blood drain from his face at the newest addition to their once private conversation. The wheezy voice of the professor that had been watching the pair made Peeta's skin crawl. He felt his stomach drop at the clear accusation made against his mother. His hands fisted instantly and if it hadn't been for Johanna's subtle shift of her leg against his, he may have snapped.
"I'm sorry, Dr. Cray. I didn't realize this was a conversation you were a part of," Johanna quipped.
Dr. Felix Cray, head of the biology department, had been teaching longer than Peeta had been alive. He had grown up hearing about his constant battles with his mother for grants and publications and conference presentations. He never had a positive view of the man or his work, and it was obvious that there was no love lost on the other end, either.
At Johanna's comment, Dr. Cray shifted his gaze from Peeta to her. "Mason, isn't it, from English?" It could have been an innocuous question had it not been for the way his eyes grazed over her body and the pretentious tone he took with her. "You'd be smart to remember who your superiors are and how you should be speaking to them."
Johanna set her jaw and stared back at him, unrelenting and unwilling to back down from his power trip. This time, it was Peeta who calmed her down. "What can we help you with, Dr. Cray?"
Cray's smile was almost as unnerving as his voice. His teeth were crooked and yellow and his lips peeled back like some sort of lizard when he spoke. He leaned down near Peeta's face and studied his expression. "You can help me by not making a total mockery of this school and your position, Dr. Mellark."
"That's the goal."
Cray licked his lips, his tongue blackened from years of his chewing tobacco habit. "Then try to be a little smarter about where you dip your pen. The Mellarks don't need to add another scandal to their history. Especially another one involving a co-ed. One bastard child should be enough for your family, don't you think?"
Peeta could only see red as he violently pushed his chair from the table and was nose to nose with the older professor. He had a handful of Cray's shirt in his fist, pulling him even closer. "I'd be very careful what you say about my family," he growled in a low voice, the veins in his forearms bulging as he tightened his grip.
Cray just smiled back into the face of his nemesis' son. "And I would be very careful about what threats you make toward your superior. Especially the superior who has a direct connection to your... little friend. Senior in biology, isn't she?"
Peeta's jaw twitched in response. He hadn't thought about the consequences of his actions; that this creep of a guy could have an effect on Katniss' schooling. He could pull her research job. He could even hold up her graduation. Cray could see this realization on Peeta's face and his smile grew wider. When Peeta reluctantly released his hold, Cray made a show of fixing his clothes.
"Good choice, Boy."
Peeta swallowed, his face still hard and his eyes dark with anger. He let out a deep breath. "Thanks for lunch, Johanna. I need to get back for my office hours." His mind was reeling the entire trek back to his office. He was angry at Cray for using his mother and his relationship with Katniss to get to him. He was angry at the other professors who thought it was their job to spread stupid gossip to about him. More so, he was angry at himself for not being able to keep his cool.
It wasn't the first time he had to deal with idiots making disgusting comments about his family; it was a consequence of having the mother he did. She always taught him to stay calm and collected, to not show them how they had any power over him. She always brushed off the comments as ugly jealousy, but he watched the impact it had on her. He saw it when he cleaned up the empty bottles and had to help her into bed; it was the only time her tough veneer showed any cracks.
Much to his chagrin, the incident stuck with him all day, to the point where he cancelled his afternoon classes and opted to make the three hour drive back to his hometown to visit her himself. His mother never shared much with him about his biological father, only that he wanted nothing to do with them once she found out she was pregnant and left, leaving her to raise him completely on her own. He didn't even know what his father looked like, save for a few physical characteristics that were very clearly not his mother's, but he hadn't ever been curious. If she didn't need the man in her life, then Peeta didn't, either. But now, Cray's words were hitting too close to home, making him wonder just what had happened in his mother's youth that would spur that particular set of comments on.
The drive didn't take as long as he thought it would, or maybe he just couldn't remember the drive since he was so focused on other things. Before he knew it, he was turning into the complex his mother currently lived at, punching the code to get into the gate and driving up the long path to the main office. He handed his keys and a $20 bill to the valet driver who thanked him profusely. Most residents here didn't get many visitors, he suspected, and the ones he had bumped into during his trips were often hurried and rude, as if spending time with their loved ones was so painful they'd rather be anywhere else. Unfortunately, that often translated over to how they treated the staff, which only made Peeta want to be twice as polite toward them. His mother was definitely one of the most difficult residents, so he didn't feel the need to make their lives any harder.
"Peeta!" A young girl behind the counter greeted him as he entered the office area. Lavinia had started as the day desk clerk when Peeta's mother moved in, so the two always shared a special bond. She was the one who helped Peeta the most during the first few months of his mother's stay and even sent him a baby basket when Maddie was born. "This is a random visit. Is everything okay?"
Peeta chuckled and signed his name in the visitor's log. "Hi, Lavinia. Everything's fine. I just had the afternoon free and figured she probably hasn't had many visitors lately."
Lavinia covered her mouth with her hand, but he knew she was hiding her sad smile at his words. Truth be told, no one ever visited his mother except for him.
"How's she been?"
"Oh, you know your mother. Such a sweet lady, but her swings have been a little worse lately."
"Still spending all her time in her room?"
"With all the journals that get mailed here." Lavinia shook her head. "I think some of the staff are intimidated just by the mail she gets." Lavinia handed him a visitor's badge and an electronic key to get into his mother's building. "But, like everyone else, she still has her moments of pure brilliance. Followed by..."
"Total bitch?" Peeta finished, clipping the badge to his shirt.
"Oh, Peeta," Lavinia slapped at his arm. "You know we can't talk about our residents that way."
Peeta smiled and winked. "That's why I said it, Lavinia. So you wouldn't have to."
"She's a lucky lady, your mom, to have a son like you. Stop by on your way out? I want to catch up and I'm so bored here."
"Deal. Thanks, Lavinia." He waved as she buzzed him through the lobby. The complex his mother lived at was made up of five different buildings, each designed with the residents' specific needs in mind. His mother was in Building 4, which was the second closest to the main office, presumably to prevent asshole relatives from using the "it's too far away" excuse as to why they never visit. And if anything did happen to them, security and EMT wouldn't have far to go. It was better than Building 2, which he hoped she'd never move to. People moved into Building 2 to die; even the staff hated when they got called to an apartment there.
He knocked on the door to her third floor apartment and nervously ran his hand through his hair. Visits with his mother were never particularly pleasant, though some days were clearly worse than others. He never knew which version of his mother would be waiting on the opposite side of the door, the one who welcomed him in with open arms and stories of what she'd been reading about, the one who insulted everything he had ever done during his childhood, or the woman who stood coldly in the doorway, looking at him like he was a stranger she had never laid eyes on before. The last was the worst. At least when she was insulting him, she was acknowledging his presence.
"Who is it?" Her clipped tone through the door made Peeta nervous. Usually it was accompanied with "mom 2 or 3".
"It's Peeta, Mom."
She was silent, he couldn't even hear if she was shuffling toward the door or just sitting on her couch.
"Mom?"
"Peeta?" Finally, he could hear signs of life. The door handle turned and she looked him over for a few seconds before flinging the door all the way open. "You're here. Why are you here? Is everything alright? How is the baby? Does she still have that dreadful cough?"
"No, Mom, Maddie's fine. Everything's fine. I just didn't have classes this afternoon so I thought I'd come visit."
She nodded and turned to walk back in. "Your professors must be very lenient, to not make you go to classes on a Wednesday afternoon. I never liked professors who gave their students days off for no good reason. Come in, Peeta, would you like a cup of tea?"
He followed her in, making sure to slip his shoes off and leave them outside of her apartment so he didn't track anything in. He wandered over to the kitchen, searching for her teapot, sure she didn't actually have anything ready to go. "How have you been, Mom?" he asked, getting the cups down and tea bags prepared. He grimaced at the half bottle of vodka he found in the cupboard. And the littering of empty wine bottles in her trash can.
"Oh, I've been fine. I'm losing my mind, though, Peeta, I'll tell you. These contemporary scientists, if that's what they like to call themselves, have absolutely no respect for the historical underpinnings of their theories." She sat on the couch and began flipping through one of the journals she had scattered on the coffee table. The room was full of stacks of journals; four, five, even six years old, piled high around the apartment. She refused to throw any of them away, swearing that she'd need them again, once she got back on her feet and able to begin conducting her research once more. The day she caught Peeta trying to remove the more obscure ones, she threw everything she could get her hands on at him, bruising his back with a rolling pin she dug out from the kitchen. Since then, he had resigned himself to leaving them, or taking them to the weatherproof storage facility on the complex grounds with her in tow, on the grounds of not wanting them to be a fire hazard.
"Yeah? Why do you say that?"
"Look at this little idiot," she spat, opening the journal to a page she dog-eared. "They are trying to understand the neurological basis for how nicotine and alcohol affect each other without taking into account that there has never been evidence for non-humans to actively choose to ingest nicotine. They're looking for their fame and fortune but not willing to put in the work behind it. So typical of academics these days." She accepted the cup of tea he handed her. "Tell me, is your little field just as inadequate?"
"I'm sure there are lazy researchers in every field, Mom," he answered, dreading the conversation that was sure to come.
"Hmph." She took a sip of her tea. "Needs lemon."
Peeta nodded and got up to search for a lemon in her kitchen.
"I just wish you'd get over this little infatuation you have with the social sciences. It's such a waste of your capabilities. Why couldn't you go into a real major where you'd be taken seriously?" She accepted the slice of lemon he handed her and squeezed it into her cup. "Name me one social scientist with the standing and influence of Newton or Bohr or Dalton or Sanger?"
Peeta could think of some. John Watson, Noam Chomsky, Steven Pinkert, Jean Piaget, Alfred Binet, Albert Kinsey, B.F. Skinner, William Wundt, just to name a few. But he knew better than to battle her on this topic. It wouldn't matter if it turned out Einstein was actually a social scientist who occasionally dabbled in physics, she would never give him any relief from her biased views of the sciences. But at least it wasn't fine arts or anything like that, he supposed. He couldn't imagine what life in the Mellark household would have been like if he had pursued his passion for painting.
His mother's tirade against his chosen field didn't last long; they never really did, and she quickly began diving back into her journal articles, muttering to herself and making chicken scratch notes in the margins. If he ever went through her notes, Peeta wasn't sure if he'd find the work of his genius mother or the crazy ramblings of a woman past her prime. In truth, he was almost too afraid to find out. Despite her tendency to let her brain wander, he knew he'd always see her as the smartest woman he'd ever met, the smartest person he ever met.
He left her to her musings and wandered around her apartment, looking for anything that would help relieve the anxiety he still felt about Cray's taunts. But Helena Mellark wasn't ever a sentimental woman. At least not in Peeta's memories of her, so there was very little evidence of any life outside of her academic achievements. Her diplomas still hung in frames on the walls, along with the cover pages of all her publications. The only pictures were those of her with other scientists or after receiving an award of some kind, all things he had seen before, the same ones that littered the walls of his childhood home.
She had only a few more casual reminders of her life that stayed in her bedside table drawer, locked away from the world. "Go figure," Peeta thought, sitting on the edge of her bed and pulling the contents out of the drawer. A picture of Peeta as a toddler sitting on her lap, grinning up at her like she was the most important thing in the world. She, of course, wasn't paying attention; she never really did, and was instead focused on whatever papers were spread across the kitchen table. One of Peeta's valedictorian speech during his high school graduation, taken by the professional photographer that he had to beg her to buy so there was some photographic proof of his accomplishment. None from college. Nothing from his PhD ceremony. He sighed and flipped the contents back into the drawer. He had seen those pictures before, they were of no help to him. And he surely was not about to go searching around her bedroom for evidence.
It wouldn't matter anyway. Nothing he found in her apartment would change the minds of people like Dr. Cray. Helena Mellark didn't make friends. She didn't care about friends. She was the purest of the pure when it came to academia, a mind so set on solving the problem at hand that she missed the bigger picture. It was why she didn't have friends. It was why she didn't have relationships. The sheer fact that she had a serious boyfriend in Ron for as long as she did mystified Peeta more than anything. She was never particularly nice to the baker, or his two sons from a previous marriage, she was her usual cold self. He could remember only a handful of times when Ron would pull a smile out of her, often bribing her with homemade Koulourakias or Melomakaronas. She was happier when she was with Ron, he supposed, for a while. It didn't last, obviously, and despite Ron's promises to keep them as a family, to protect and care for Peeta, he left. And once again, it was just the two of them. Only this time, Peeta was about to leave for college, a decision he never questioned before.
Helena never truly recovered from Ron. If it was possible, she became even more cold and detached afterward. She forced Peeta out of the house, demanding that he attend Stanford and stop putting other people before his career. "That makes you soft, Peeta Mellark," she warned him, "And softness will not get you anywhere in the real world. It feeds on softness and I didn't raise a failure."
She was still mumbling and jotting down notes when he returned, making absolutely no acknowledgment of his presence. He couldn't stay much longer, not with classes in the morning and a kitten that wasn't used to spending so much time alone yet. "Mom? I have to get going."
She waved him off, not looking up from her notes.
He clenched his jaw slightly and nodded. That was the most he was going to get from her at this point, as she was too far gone in her academic spiral for him to expect anything more. He took her teacup to the sink, sure she'd forget it there and most likely knock it over at some point, and paused at the door. He wished so much that he could do more for her, but he knew he couldn't. She wouldn't accept help even if he could.
He called Katniss from the road, asking if she wanted to come over and spend some time with him that night. He swung by the liquor store first, picking up a bottle of whiskey he was almost certain he didn't need but couldn't bear to not have. Although he was glad to have taken time to see his mother, his visits always left him feeling empty and alone, which was a bad combination if memory served him correctly. He needed to not feel alone tonight, he needed to get lost in Katniss, to feel her underneath him and know that she was there. That someone was still there. He didn't talk about what had happened, what was being said by whom, or that he even visited his mother. Instead, he held her as tightly as he could and whispered sweet words of affection into her ear until she fell asleep. If only sleep would come as easily for him.
Katniss held up a bagged costume and wrinkled her nose in disgust. Sexy cop. Sexy army girl. Sexy nurse. "Of course there's no sexy entomologist," she joked to Madge, who was scouring through the rack of costumes across the aisle.
"You should write an angry letter to the company," Madge suggested.
Katniss laughed. "'Dear Makers of Slutty Costumes. Bugs are hot. Sincerely, Science.' Something tells me they wouldn't take that suggestion too seriously." She sighed and pulled out the Greek Goddess costume. "I mean, look at this one. Sure, it's cute on the model, but this isn't realistic."
Madge stifled a giggle at the image. "I'm pretty sure the only reason they're showing her from the side is because her hooch is showing from the front."
"Classy," Katniss answered, shaking her head. "Twenty bucks says we'll see at least...four girls in this costume this year. Tell me again why we're shopping for costumes two weeks before Halloween?"
"Because," Madge answered, turning back to her row, "We don't want a repeat of last year."
"Ah. Yes," Katniss cringed. Last year she didn't even think about Halloween until the last possible minute because she had a conference out of town the day of and wasn't planning on being home in time to go out with Madge. Of course, the others who went to the conference with her had other plans and not only convinced her to leave the conference early, but managed to cut the four hour drive down to three. She and Madge spent the better part of an hour digging through their combined wardrobes, scrambling to find anything that would work as a costume. And even though she pulled off a respectable "evil Black Swan," partially thanks to Madge's extensive corset collection, she couldn't help but wonder if everyone else could tell that hers was a last minute outfit.
Madge refused to let that happen again. So here they were, searching through the local party store's collection. "Are you going over to Peeta's place tonight?" she asked.
"I think so," Katniss answered. "Hey, are you okay with this? With me spending so much time with Peeta, I mean? Because I know I've been gone a lot more and we haven't done nearly as much together like we used to, but I can totally call off this thing tonight with him if you want. It's not going to be anything major, just-"
"Katniss. Chill," Madge laughed. "It's fine. How many times did I ditch you at home because I had random dates? You're happy with him, right?" Katniss tried to hide the grin that overtook her face, making Madge laugh even harder. "Who am I to stand in the way of a guy who gets you to smile?"
"Hey now," Katniss argued. "My smiles may be hard to come by, but I care about people."
"I know, Katniss, but I haven't seen you this happy about a guy since...well, really since ever. I don't think you were ever this happy around Cato either, except when you were both wasted and didn't know any better." Madge shrugged. "You found someone who somehow has gotten past your scowl and still wants to be with you."
"I guess," she mumbled.
"Have you told him anything about...anything?"
Katniss sighed. "No. It's never really come up." That wasn't a total lie. True, she could have brought up her family when Peeta told her about Maddie and Delly, but that was his moment. And there hadn't been any other times for her to just spring her baggage onto him. Besides, they had only been together for a few months, way too early to unload on him. She learned that lesson from Cato.
"You're going to have to at some point," Madge countered. "I mean, I know you've never even told me everything, but I'm not fucking you into happiness."
"Madge!" Katniss clamped her hand over her roommate's mouth. Madge immediately licked her hand, making Katniss cry out and pull her arm away. Both girls collapsed into a fit of giggles as Katniss wiped her hand on Madge's shoulder. "We are in public, young lady."
"Yeah, looking for slutty costumes. Oh, look!" She held out a plastic bag with a ladybug on the front. "If you can't be a sexy bug scientist, you might as well be a sexy bug! Go try it on!"
Madge shoved Katniss toward the dressing room, which was really just a tiny bathroom in the back storage area of the store, ladybug costume in hand. As she stuffed herself into the cramped room, she considered Madge's words. It was true, her friend didn't know everything about her past, but she definitely knew more than anyone else. Except for her therapist, but he didn't really count since he could judge her directly for anything. Cinna had to be objective with her, but Madge certainly didn't have to be.
And Peeta. "Ha," she audibly laughed at the thought of telling Peeta anything. Peeta, who overcame the bullshit with his ex and somehow was this normal, functioning, successful man, would never understand. There was no way he'd be able to handle her train-wreck of a backstory. Worse, he probably wouldn't want her if he knew how broken she really was; if he knew the Katniss he saw was just a mask of the real girl. And while they had only been together for a few months, she was sure she wasn't ready to let go of him just yet.
Maybe she could ease him into her world of crazy. After all, he told her something personal, the least she could do was reciprocate a little. That wouldn't be so hard, she decided.
"So? What'd you decide on the ladybug?" Madge asked when Katniss emerged from the dressing room.
"At least it covers everything. Did you find something?"
Madge held up a "naughty Girl Scout" outfit with a sinful smile. "Nothing like Halloween to bring out the pervy pedophiles. I'm going to go try it on. I'll need your opinion on it, though."
Watching Madge model her costume, confirming that it was just enough to make her youthful without being creepy, Katniss got an evil idea of her own that was sure to get a rise out of a certain professor. Without telling Madge, she snuck back to the costume section and found the perfect outfit she had in mind. She didn't bother trying it on before buying it, despite the store's 'no-return policy.' This costume would definitely help make up for any ill feelings he may have from learning one of her unpleasant secrets.
Katniss watched as Peeta dragged a shoelace across the floor, as that mangy kitten they found outside her apartment a couple weeks ago chased it. He took the thing to a local vet a few days ago for shots and to get it, well, him, it turned out, neutered. "So what did you end up naming it?"
"Buttercup," he answered, laughing at the kitten's overexcited jump.
She snorted and shook her head. 'Buttercup' was a ridiculous name for a cat, especially a male one. She couldn't help but see the paternal instinct in his interactions with the kitten. It looked so natural; it was easy to picture him playing with a child of his own. She still hadn't warmed up to the damn cat, or it her, but it didn't surprise her. Even as a kid, animals didn't trust her. Not like they did the other Everdeen women. "Prim would have liked that name."
He turned to his other side and watched her for a few minutes, ignoring Buttercup's head nudges against his thigh. Katniss knew what he was going to ask as soon as she slipped up. "Prim?"
"Oh, uh, my little sister." She hoped it would be enough information to get him to drop the subject entirely. If only she could be so lucky.
"I didn't know you had a little sister. Is she still with your parents?"
"My Dad, actually."
He nodded and picked up the kitten, who had begun meowing at the lack of attention, and plopped him on his chest. Buttercup immediately curled up and began purring like a truck engine as Peeta idly scratched under his chin. "How long have your parents been divorced?"
Katniss curled her legs under her and shifted uncomfortably on the couch. "Ah...they've been apart since I was eleven."
"Long time. Did you get to see him much?"
She winced. "Not at all, actually."
He furrowed his brow and pursed his lips. He stopped scratching the cat, moving the now irritated Buttercup to the floor to his own devices, and sat up to face her. "So is Prim your half-sister?"
"Nope. She's just...she's with Dad and I got stuck with Mom." She faked a yawn to indicate that she was tired and, hopefully, that she didn't want to talk about this subject with him anymore. She did think she was ready to deal with this stuff with Peeta, but now that they were in the moment, she realized she just wasn't yet.
"Tired, sweetheart?" Peeta rose and reached out to help her up. He pulled her close and tightly wrapped his arms around her, taking deep breaths and just holding her.
They laid in bed, facing each other, neither able to fall asleep right away. Peeta brushed a few loose strands of hair out of her eyes. "So your Dad's been...out of the picture since you were eleven. When did your sister go with him?"
His eyes were so focused, his face so soft and unassuming that she knew, in that moment, he had a pretty good idea of her truth. She bit the corner of her bottom lip and glanced down at his bare chest. "I was seventeen," she answered quietly.
He brought his forehead to hers, their lips almost brushing, before turning it slightly, nuzzling her face with his forehead. "How?"
"Car accident. We hit a patch of black ice one night and the car spun out of control. She held on for a while but..."
His lips were on hers, effectively shushing her. She didn't realize she'd begun crying until she tasted the salty liquid between them. These weren't their normal fervent kisses, but slow, sweet, full kisses. It was as if he knew how much she needed his presence in that moment, to feel the life radiating between them.
"I've never told anyone else about how Prim died," she admitted when they broke apart. "Everything just kind of fell apart after that, you know? Like she was the only bit of sanity left in my life, so when she was gone..."
"I get it, baby. You don't have to talk about it anymore if you don't want to." He cupped her face with both of his hands, using his thumb to brush away a stray tear. "Thank you."
She sniffed. "For what?"
"For opening up to me. I can't imagine what it must be like to lose your family like that. And to be able to admit something so huge," he smiled brightly, searching her eyes. "I just really appreciate it."
Katniss shrugged. "You told me about Delly."
"Everyone's got 'ex' baggage. That's nothing compared to..."
"Death?"
"Yeah."
Katniss suddenly felt an inappropriate laugh bubble up through her and before she could help herself, she was cackling loudly. It was completely absurd, laughing after talking about Prim, but she just couldn't stop; the harder she tried, the louder she became. "It was the worst experience of my life, sitting in that room as she took her last breath, but you know what the real kicker was?"
Peeta had taken a few clinical-based classes in his education and knew that people dealt with grief in very different ways. He just wasn't expecting Katniss, scowly, closed-off, quiet Katniss, to be laughing at this story. But he knew his best bet was to just go along with her. "What's that?"
Katniss snorted. "My douchebag boyfriend at the time, the driver of the car, the guy who walked away with a few shallow lacerations, had the balls to ask why I wasn't taking care of him instead." She rolled onto her back, wrapped her arms around her now sore stomach, and kicked her legs. "I'm sitting here, with my dying sister, and he's telling me I'm a shitty girlfriend for it. Oh, and all along, Primmy's telling me to just fucking dump him already and be fucking happy for the first time in years. She's the one on her deathbed and she's still more concerned about me!"
The tears that were now streaming down her cheeks very well could have been due to her intense laughing fit or the horrible memory of that day; even she didn't know for sure, but she didn't really care. Getting the story out was all that mattered at this point. When she finally calmed down, she rolled back over and wiped her eyes. "I think I win, family and 'ex' baggage." She smirked. "Have I effectively scared you off?"
Peeta shook his head and pulled her into his body. "Not even close."
Peeta glanced over at his clock for what had to be the fourth time in the last forty-five minutes. Every other professor had gone home already, most to get their kids ready for trick-or-treating. But here he was, still in his office at quarter to six on Halloween, trying to create a computer simulation that would work for his first of many studies. The only break he had taken so far that evening was the series of text messages between him and Katniss. He had to admit that he was jealous that she was actually done with classes and getting ready to go out with her friends. Finnick was hosting a party at their place and he agreed to go, but at this rate, he'd be showing up in time to watch everyone pass out.
He groaned when he heard a soft knock at his door. Sure, he still was technically holding office hours, but he didn't expect there to be any students still roaming the halls. In fact, everyone was supposed to be gone and while he didn't enjoy computer programming, he certainly didn't need the added distraction. "Come in," he called. He minimized his program and smiled when he saw who was at his door. "Katniss. What are you doing here? I thought you were getting ready."
She shrugged. "I felt bad for you being all cooped up in here alone on Halloween. So I thought I'd come visit."
"Well come in, have a seat," he indicated to the couch.
"Nuh uh uh, Dr. Mellark," she chided. "I'm knocking on your door at Halloween. You're not so old that you don't remember the rules, are you?" She knocked again. "Trick or treat?"
"Well if you're offering, you know I'll take the treat."
She winked and walked into his office, closing the door behind her. "I was hoping you'd choose that." She unbuttoned the long jacket she borrowed from Madge and let it fall to floor, exposing the costume she'd bought specifically for him.
His jaw literally dropped as he took her in. Her normally braided hair was up in a high ponytail. She had a white button down shirt tied above her belly button that was sheer enough to show the red orange bra she wore underneath. A plaid, schoolgirl skirt that barely reached mid-thigh, topped off by knee-length white socks. If that wasn't enough, by the time his roaming eyes made it back to her face, she had on the most innocent face he had ever seen. "Well...uh...what..."
She smirked, pleased that she could surprise him and throw him off a little. She crossed her feet and twisted her fingers together. "Dr. Mellark, you told me you needed to see me in your office. About my test..."
He raised his eyebrows, finally understanding the game she was playing. "Your test. Right."
"Was there a problem, Dr. Mellark?" She could see the lust spark in his eyes when she called him 'Doctor,' so she made a mental note to continue using it.
"Why don't you have a seat, Miss Everdeen." He pointed to the couch and made sure to sit close, but not too close, yet. He let his eyes linger over her legs as her skirt climbed higher on her thighs. "I was looking over your test and I'm afraid to say, I think you cheated."
Katniss' jaw dropped and she stared into his eyes. "What?"
"Your answers were exactly the same as the girl sitting next to you. Do you really expect me to believe that she was the one who cheated?"
Katniss let her chin fall to her chest and shook her head. "No, Sir."
"I have no other option but to give you a zero on this test."
"No!" She sat upright, her eyes wide in protest, hand clamped over her mouth in disbelief. "Dr. Mellark, a zero will mean I fail the class! I can't fail your class. Please, I'll do anything. Anything! I, I, I...I'll write a paper for you. Or I can retake the test, right here, to prove I know the material." She bit her lower lip and let her hand fall to skim his knee, which was now just grazing hers. "Please, Sir, I'll do anything you want me to."
One half smirk in his direction sealed the deal for him. His pants strained at the innuendo of what 'Miss Everdeen' was willing to do. She was doing her absolute best to appear innocent, batting eyelashes and smiling shyly at him, though it was still clear she knew exactly what she was doing. He didn't know which version of her turned him on more, the innocent or the vixen, but either way, the desire to control her overtook him. "I don't know, Miss Everdeen. The punishment for cheating on a test is set in stone. I don't know that there's much else I can do for you."
Katniss uncrossed her legs and turned to face him, her hands resting higher on his thigh, dangerously close to his growing erection. She made a show of staring at it before looking up at him. "There must be...something."
He closed his eyes and repressed the groan that was rising in his throat. "Well, Miss Everdeen, I suppose I could handle your...punishment...in-house."
She smiled brightly at him. "Thank you so much, Sir."
"I wouldn't thank me just yet," he answered, his voice thick with lust. He smirked at the goosebumps that peppered her exposed skin. "As long as you do everything exactly as I ask, I won't give you a zero on this test."
Katniss nodded. "Of course, Dr. Mellark."
Peeta let out a controlled breath. "Why don't you come with me, Miss Everdeen?" He rose from the couch, his erection painfully evident. He directed her to his desk. His heart was racing in anticipation. There was no way she could know that he had been secretly fantasizing about having her in his office like this since the first time she entered over the summer, could she? He turned from her, aware that her eyes tracked his every movement, and began searching through one of the desk drawers.
Her eyes widened when she saw him smack the ruler against his open palm. 'Is he going to use that on me?' she wondered. She had never ventured into the world of pain, nor had she ever even considered it would be something she'd be into. Her lip quivered just slightly, the only break in her façade.
He leaned in close to her, and in a voice that was barely above a whisper, simply said, "Mockingbird." He made sure she nodded in understanding before stepping behind her. He flexed the ruler and once more slapped it against his palm. "Step up to the desk so your thighs touch the edge."
"What are you going to do?" Katniss asked.
"Now, now, Miss Everdeen, if you don't want a zero, you'd better do exactly as you're told," he warned her, with another smack against his palm. She jumped slightly but obeyed, inching forward so her bare legs were against the edge of his desk. He reached around her, moving the stacks of journal articles and folders out of the way. "Bend over, Miss Everdeen. And hold on."
She felt the jolt of electricity from his words ignite her insides. "Sir?"
"Bend. Over. And. Hold. On." He enunciated each word with a smack of the ruler.
Katniss swallowed and slowly lowered her torso over the desk. She could tell her skirt had hitched up enough to expose her lacy panties, red-orange to match her bra. Even though it was only a game, being bent over a professor's desk, almost completely exposed to him, brought a flush to her cheeks.
Peeta slowly and lightly ran the ruler up and down Katniss' legs, smirking at the involuntary spasms it elicited. She groaned against the desk. "No complaining now, you got yourself into this little predicament. Just hold still like a good girl and it'll be over soon." He lifted her skirt over her backside, fully exposing the tantalizing panties which contrasted against her olive skin perfectly. He made sure to start slow, bringing the ruler down against her skin softly.
She jumped at the first couple of blows, surprised they didn't hurt as much as she expected them too. More than that, with each slap of the ruler against her skin, she could feel herself growing wetter and wetter. He was most definitely 'punishing' her, but it felt more pleasurable. This wasn't like any kind of 'punishment' she had experienced in the past. She allowed her body to relax, feeling safe in this charade, even though she knew she'd sit uncomfortably for the rest of the night. As if he could tell she was relaxing, the next few blows were more powerful, stinging against her skin. "Ow!" she cried, "That hurts!"
"It's supposed to hurt," he responded in a gruff voice. "That's why they call it punishment." He rested his spare hand on her lower back, keeping her flat against the desk. A few more slaps against her skin and her cries of pain audibly changed into moans. He cocked an eyebrow, even though he knew she couldn't see him. "What's this? Do you like this?" He set the ruler down on the desk next to her and ran his hand up her thighs to her covered heat. He could feel her arousal through the thin fabric. "Good girl," he murmured, slipping his fingers past the barrier and into her.
She moaned and pressed herself back against his hand. She turned her head, using her arm to keep her from making too much noise. She figured they were alone, but didn't want to take any chances and get caught.
He pulled his fingers out and from the corner of her eye, she watched as he cleaned them off in his mouth and clenched when he let out a blissful groan. She could hear the sound of a zipper and rustle of fabric and whimpered into the desk. He rubbed the head of his fully erect cock against her opening. He took hold of her hips and slid into her, both of them releasing sounds of pleasure, him at the tightness around him and her at the satisfying intrusion. He kept one hand on her hip and reached up with the other to grab a hold of her ponytail.
She let out a deep groan when he grabbed her hair, so he continued to test the water, pulling harder, wrapping her hair around his fingers to tighten his grip. She arched her back, allowing him to hit a slightly different spot inside her. Katniss didn't even recognize her own shallow, husky breaths as he continued to thrust into her. She let out a loud yelp and gripped the side of the desk harder when he gave her ass a hard slap. Despite her hold on the desk, she felt herself slide across it every time he pounded into her. Her thighs were sure to have bruises from being forced against the edge, and likely on her ass as well, but it was well worth it. She felt her arousal build as her nerves continued to fire. Sex with Peeta had always been great, but this time it felt different. It was unlike anything she had ever felt before. From the slight pain, to the role playing, to being bent over his desk, to the feel of his cock pumping in and out of her. It was just...
"Fuck!" she yelled, looking back at him. "Peeta! Fucking condom!"
He halted mid-thrust and stared down at where they were connected. "Fuck me!" he groaned. "Shit, Katniss, I'm sorry. I can't believe I for-"
"Fuck." She interrupted him. "Fuck, just...be careful? I mean, I'm on the pill but don't...you know...finish inside?"
He looked at her in disbelief, but nodded. "Yeah."
"Good. Now, continue, Dr. Mellark," she ordered with a wink.
He growled and pulled her off the desk, spinning her so she was facing him. He kissed her, pulling her head back by her ponytail and planting hard kisses down her neck to her collarbone. His fingers deftly unbuttoned her shirt, pulling it open to expose her bra. He pulled down one of the cups and latched his mouth onto her sensitive skin. Peeta backed her up and lifted her so she sat on his desk. He released her breast and pulled her right to the edge before entering her again, this time sensually and tortuously slow.
"I'm going to make you come, right here on my desk," he warned. "I've wanted to fuck you in here for so long, Miss Everdeen."
"Fuck," she sighed, letting her head fall back. "Dr. Mellark, please."
He grunted and began plunging into her faster. He wrapped her legs around him and used a spare hand to thumb her clit. Katniss groaned louder and louder as her orgasm built inside her, finally bursting through, sending shockwaves through her body.
Peeta controlled his breathing until she relaxed and pulled her off the desk. "I'm not gonna last too much longer."
Katniss immediately dropped to her knees and took him in her mouth, pumping him with one hand, ignoring her own taste on him. He wasn't exaggerating when he said he was close. A few deep bobs and he came, filling her mouth. She licked him clean and he helped her back to her feet, sitting her on the desk once more. He leaned his head against hers, both sweaty and satisfied. Katniss laid back on the desk, letting her arms and legs fall off the edges, with her skirt hiked up and shirt completely open. Her panties were still clinging on one leg, her socks pushed halfway down her legs.
"Well, Miss Everdeen, you were extremely cooperative today. I'll see what I can do about that test grade of yours," he said, pulling his pants back up.
She lifted her head and smiled widely at him. "Maybe I'll have to cheat on some more tests."
"Katniss, why do you have leggings on under your dress? It was so cute without!" Madge cried when Katniss made it to the bar. After their afternoon tryst, she and Peeta spent time afterward cuddling together on his couch and when she realized what time it was, she texted Madge to tell her she'd meet everyone at the bar. She tried on her costume and caught sight of the bruises on the fronts of her thighs; there was no way she'd be able to explain them away without confessing to an early evening romp. Leggings it was.
"I was afraid it would be cold. Don't worry, Madge, they still go with the costume," she reasoned.
Madge eyed her suspiciously, a question clearly on her face.
"Yes," Katniss whispered. "I'll tell you about it later." In a louder voice, to the rest of the small group of people they were out with, she announced she was going to the bar to get the first round. On the way, she texted a picture she took before putting her leggings on to Peeta.
10:45 pm. Peeta. /Round two tonight?/
She smiled and sent her confirmation. "Happy Halloween," she cheered Madge. 'Happy Halloween, indeed.'
AN2: First off, happy father's day to all the dad's of people and fuzzballs. Thanks so much for everyone who has stuck by this story. I will try to get another chapter (or two) up before school starts but no guarantees. Hopefully the increased length and double smut in this one will make up for it ;). A HUGE thank you to Sunfish for all your help as I was working on it (including your sassy comments that I so very much love...erm...hate) and Chelzie for beta'ing this up. Hope everyone enjoyed this little piece. I'm on tumblr at mitchesbcray if you wanna chat or ask questions or whatevs.