Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games.

Six

"What are you reading?"

Peeta jumped in surprise, minimising the window on his computer so Cato couldn't see what he was reading. He had been reading something with avid interest, taking furious notes and underlining certain things. "Just stuff," he said quickly.

"Can I see?" Cato asked.

"It's nothing, you wouldn't want to see it," Peeta said. He tried to busy himself, packing the notepad he had set out away and shoving the pen he had been using into his pocket. He was blushing, his entire face heated in embarrassment. Cato reached over him and brushed his hands off the touch pad, opening up the window.

"Sexual Arousal Signs in Healthy Women's Bodies?"

Peeta nodded sheepishly. "I never paid attention in school, you see . . . If our relationship is going to become more intimate, and I really want that to happen, I need to know my own body. I never bothered listening in sex ed because I didn't think I'd want to do anything with anyone prior surgery."

"So you've been educating yourself?" Cato asked. He pulled up a seat beside Peeta and skimmed the information on the computer. "'When sexual desire strikes, the brains signal the release of moisture to lubricate the vagina for sex. At the same time, the clitoris, the most erotically sensitive part, and the labia, the vaginal "lips," swell up. This creates an opening and room for the possible entry of a penis. Breasts also swell somewhat, while nipples growing more pronounced. Breathing harder and faster, potentially to the point of gasping. Eyes glazing over, pupils widening. Those with fair skin may experience a full-body blush—the result of adrenaline causing blood vessels to dilate, in order to improve blood and oxygen flow to the genitals. Veins may visibly throb. Might lick lips, cock heads and arch backs, overwhelmed by feel-good brain chemicals . . . That's because of arousal? I just thought that was girls being teases!"

"I don't even understand half of the words, what the heck is a labia?" Peeta frowned.

"I don't know," Cato answered honestly. "Uh . . . I'm guessing it's somewhere downstairs?"

"There's so much downstairs, Cato, I don't even know anymore. I tried looking up female anatomy but it was so complicated I just gave up," Peeta sighed.

"What else have you got?" Cato reached out and took Peeta's notepad, flicking it open to a random page. "Effects on the breasts during arousal?"

Peeta winced and chewed on his bottom lip. "My breasts sort of swell when I'm . . . when I'm aroused and I didn't know if it was normal or not."

"Ah, I see." Cato nodded. "You took notes on nipples as well?" he teased.

"Oh shut up," Peeta grumbled.

"Oh come on, don't be like that," Cato teased, nudging him with his elbow. "You're just trying to figure out your own body. I mean, I didn't learn everything about myself at the drop of the hat. Although it's probably a bit more difficult for you, since you aren't all that comfortable in your own skin but I'm sure you'll get there."

Cato tugged Peeta's chair closer to him and wound an arm around his shoulders. "How's your chest?"

"Okay, still hurts a little bit," answered Peeta."I'm not wearing the bandages as tight, until the pain ebbs, at least."

Cato looked around the room. They were just in Peeta's kitchen, and he didn't think they had any plans for rest of the day. "Why don't you just take it off?" he asked. "You aren't going anywhere and no one's going to see you but me."

"It's the principal of the thing. It makes me feel more . . . manly," Peeta explained. "You know, when I look down and don't see my breasts anymore."

"You are manly," Cato said.

"Not yet, anyway."

"Right here, right now, you're a man. You're the manliest man I've ever met," Cato assured him. "It's a myth that your manhood lies in your pants. Your masculinity lies here." He pressed his finger to Peeta's temple. "And here." He laid his palm over the right side of his chest, where his heart lay.

Peeta placed his hand over Cato's, holding it tight. "You keep spitting out one liners like that as if they come to your naturally," he said.

"They do," Cato shrugged. Peeta smiled. "When I'm with you, they come as easily to me as words to an authour or notes to a musician."

"I wish I was smooth enough to be able to come up with words like that," said Peeta. "Then I could tell you how much you mean to me." Cato smiled. He didn't need to hear words of homage from Peeta, he preferred to be the one giving them out. "But I suppose . . . I could show you."

"You don't have to show me anything," ensured Cato.

"I don't have to but I want to." Peeta stood up and slid his hands up underneath the back of his shirt. Cato watched curiously, his lips twitching into a grin when his boyfriend undid the bandages and let them fall away onto the floor. He sat back down with a partially satisifed grin and looked at Cato with his bright blue eyes. "I trust you," he said.

Cato wondered if he meant that he trusted him not to judge his masculintiy because of his chest or he trusted him not to make him uncomfortable by staring at his chest. Because the latter was going to be difficult. The beautifully formed mounds were just too damn hard to ignore. Especially since they were starting to become more sexually active with each other.

"Close your mouth honey, the flies are coming," Peeta said sweetly, tapping Cato's mouth closed. He looked down at his chest seriously and sighed. "I honestly don't see the appeal in these things, but maybe that's just me. You obviously see something, you can't stop staring."

"I think most guys like them because they won't see them unless in sexual situations," Cato tried to explain. "They're great to look at and, honestly? They feel so soft and amazing. I, for one, look at your chest and envision the noises I could get you to make just by manipulating that area alone."

Peeta swallowed the lump in his throat. "You sure you won't miss them when they're gone?"

Cato smirked. "I'm sure," he answered. "You know why?"

"Why?"

"I'd like to say something dignified like it's because you will feel more comfortable and be ultimately happy-which will be amazing-but remember, you'll still have your nipples to play with," Cato reminded him.

Peeta snorted and smacked his arm. "Wow, that's certainly an upside," he said sarcastically.

Grinning, Cato opened up Peeta's notepad again. "When a woman gets exicted, it manifests in her nipples. Nipples are considered the most sensitive part of the body because they have a rich supply of nerves. So when they are handled or kissed or sucked, they erect immediately," he read. "This is acually interresting, I didn't know there were nerves there. I thought it just felt nice."

"Well, so did I. Which shows how much I know about myself," Peeta answered.

Cato flipped over a page. His eyes widened. "You researched anal sex?" he asked.

Peeta blushed furiously. "I was just curious," he said.

Cato tried not to snicker with amusement, for Peeta's sake. "About that, when we first try having sex, would you prefer us to do anal or vaginal?"

"Uh . . ."

"I mean, you don't need to make the decision right now, just something to think about," said Cato.

Peeta nodded. "Okay, I will."

Cato stood up and tapped his head. "Better get back to studying, your body isn't going to discover itself."

"Oh shut up," Peeta laughed, rolling his eyes. Cato grinned and kissed his cheek before disappearing up the stairs. Unable to help himself, Peeta returned to his computer, determined to learn as much as he could.

~xXx~

The following Day:

"Maddy?"

Peeta froze, his eyes focused on the magazine in front of him and his hand frozen mid-turn of the page. That name, only one person who address him that way. He glanced up, praying it wouldn't be true, it wasn't true, it wasn't true.

It was.

Marvel's jaw was unhinged, the shock evident on his face. "Maddy? Is that you?" he asked, approaching the counter. Peeta thanked his lucky stars that Clove was off sick, or he'd be in for a load of questions. He wanted to lie and say that he wasn't Maddy, but he had always sucked at lying, so he didn't bother trying.

"What are you doing here Marvel?" he asked sharply.

"I just moved here . . ." Marvel said, trailing off. His eyes slid down to his chest, widening in horror when he didn't see what used to be his favourite part of 'Maddy's' body. "Oh Maddy, you didn't, did you?"

"Calm down Marvel, I haven't had the surgery yet," Peeta hissed. "And I'm not Maddy anymore. I'm Peeta."

"Peeta? Isn't that a boy's name?"

"I am a boy."

Marvel rolled his eyes. "Have you actually convinced the people of this village that you're a boy?" he asked. He squinted. "Well, I suppose you do have manly features, and a deep voice . . . But where are my girls?"

"They're not yours anymore," snapped Peeta, resisting the urge to cross his arms and turn away. He deeply regretted letting Marvel claim ownership over his chest when they were together. He had names for each boob and everything . . . . "If you're not buying anything, get the hell out."

Marvel snorted. "Some costumer service this place has," he said sarcastically. He quirked an eyebrow. "Come on sweet cheeks, you know you missed me."

"Actually, I did not. A statement I can say with absolute certainty," Peeta answered. "You wouldn't support me and that's why I left. And I'm glad I did because I didn't realize how stupid I was being back then."

"I wasn't going to support you because you were going mad!" exclaimed Marvel. "You're a girl, not a boy."

"No. I'm. Not."

Marvel rolled his eyes and smirked arrogantly. "Go out with me," he demanded.

Peeta scoffed. "No chance." He smirked back snidely. "I have a boyfriend."

Marvel's smirk melted into a scowl. "Who is he?"

"None of your business," said Peeta.

His ex glowered. "Does he know about your crazy theory?" he asked.

"That I'm a boy? Yes. And he's extremely supportive of me," Peeta said.

Marvel licked his lips almost predatorily, leaning forward so their faces were inches apart. "Go out with me or I'll tell this entire village your secret," he threatened in a low voice only Peeta could hear. "I'll tell them that you're a girl or 'born a girl' as you claim. I'll tell them that you have magnificent, swollen tits, that instead of a dick down there it's a hungry pussy that's just begging to be dampened. That you have your period every month, you ovulate, you have delectable, erect nipples that stand to attention in the cold, that you can get pregnant, give birth, experience multiple orgasms. I'll blab about it all."

Peeta's heart sped up. "You have no proof," he said.

"Sometimes when you stayed in my apartment, I'd drug your drinks so you'd sleep like a log while I took some extra photos," explained Marvel. "All of them nude, of course. I still have the pictures and it's very clearly you. I'll photocopy them and stick them over the entire village for everyone to see."

Peeta narrowed his eyes. "You're bluffing."

Marvel smirked smugly, pulling a picture out of his 'man-bag' as he called it (don't ask) and sliding it across the counter. "Friday Night, 8:00, Arena Bar. Be there, without the boyfriend." He winked and left without another word.

The picture was definitely him. He was lying on the make-shift bed he slept on in Marvel's apartment, completely naked. His breasts were still developing when he was sixteen but they were still visible, looking stimulated and aching. He seemed to be lying in a way that made him look like he was thrusting his chest up, his knees bent and legs spread, the angle of the camera able to capture his heated center.

Peeta felt violated.

No, don't let him ruin things now. Just go to the bar for one drink and then leave. Just to protect your secret. Your secret must stay a secret.

~xXx~

Peeta blushed. He crossed his arms over his chest to cover the fact that his nipples had actually begun to harden at his words. It was too late though, Cato noticed. They stared at each other, blue on green, both colours darkened with desire. Both daring each other to act first. The older boy shut the computer and pushed it out of the way.

Cato acted first, leaning forward and capturing Peeta's lips in a kiss. He fed from the sweetness of the young blond's lips, his tongue parting them and sweeping inside the warm, moist caverns of his mouth. Peeta met with matching ferocity, curling his own silky tongue around Cato's and tangling together in a hungry battle of lust and power.

Desperate to win, Cato lifted Peeta off his seat and set him on the edge of the table, holding his face in place as he nipped his swollen lips with his teeth savagely. Peeta spread his legs so Cato could get closer, his hands exploring his muscled back as he continued the assault on his mouth.

A sweet pressure was building up in his neither regions, the same pressure that came at night when he masturbated. His breasts hurt, nipples achingly hard and pointed. He wanted relief from it, something Cato could provide. Peeta pulled Cato closer, moaning as he started kissing his pale neck.

Cato tugged down the sleeves of Peeta's shirt, pressing tiny kisses to his creamy shoulders as he caressed his hips with his thumbs. Peeta wrapped his legs around Cato's middle so their crotches met. This set electric shocks through both their beings and both groaned at the same time.

Slightly fed up with Cato's polite nature and lost in a fog of hormones and lust, Peeta took one of his hands and placed it on his breast. "Please," he begged.

Well, if you insist, Cato thought. He cupped the fleshy mound and caressed it, using Peeta's hitching breath as a sign of whether to continue or not. As his confidence grew, he let his other hand join in, rubbing the neglected breast in a massaging motion. Peeta arched into him, his eyes rolling behind his head blissfully. His hands fumbled for the hem of his shirt, which he promptly threw over his head and let fall to the floor.

"Keep going," he encouraged.

Cato couldn't believe this was the boy who was nervous about showing him his chest a few days ago. Now sitting on the edge of the kitchen table, lips red and wet from making out, willingly offering his ripe flesh to be fondled.

Never having been a man to disappoint, Cato cupped a breast in each hand, the skin heated and smooth. Peeta gasped at his touch, his legs clenching around his waist and his nails dugging into his back. He captured his quivering nipples between his fingers, sensually rolling them until the buds were rigid. He then proceeded to kiss his way down from his collarbone to his chest.

When he enclosed the first bud in his mouth, Peeta screamed in ecstasy, his nails creating thin scratch marks down Cato's back. Cato continued regardless, suckling on his breast while still fondling the other. He guided Peeta onto his back on the table so he loomed over him on his hands and knees. This gave him more leverage and he was able to abuse his tender peaks easier.

"Don't stop Cato," Peeta pleaded, even though Cato had no intention of stopping. He slipped his hand down from Cato's back and stuck it into his underwear, to where his desperate center was begging for attention. He was still inexperienced, but that sensitive area was swollen and felt orgasmic to touch so he started there, pinching and rubbing the slippery area.

Cato was in heaven. Peeta was gorgeous, even when he was squirming and gasping for breath as he touched himself. Cato lapped at the skin surrounding the now bright red nipples, unable to get enough of the taste of his bare skin. He pushed back up and reclaimed Peeta's lips, letting him moan and gasp and groan into his mouth all he liked. His hands remained on his chest, massaging the swollen flesh and pinching the raw nipples.

Peeta orgasmed soon after, his entire body coiling before going limp again. "Oh my god," he panted, "that was amazing."

"I know," Cato smirked, pecking his lips.

"But you didn't get to . . ."

"Don't worry about it. We've got all day together."

Peeta laughed. "What makes you think I'm going to be able to go through that again today?" he asked.

Cato grinned, leaning forward and cupping the younger boy's heated center over his trousers. Peeta let out a tiny squeak, his back arching in pleasure. "That's the thing about a female body," he purred, "it's designed to be able to endure multiple orgasms."

Peeta smirked back. "Better put it to the test then."

Cato woke up with his face smushed against the mattress of Peeta's bed. His head was clouded and he groaned, standing up and brushing the wrinkles from his clothes. He was soaked in a thin layer of sweat, his clothes damp and smelly. Urgh, he'd have to have a shower. When he stopped outside the bathroom, he heard the water running. The door was open the smallest of bits and he peered into the steamy room curiously.

Peeta's shower was a transparent cubicle instead of a bath with an attatchment. The glass wasn't fogged, nor was their a shower curtain, so you could see right through. Cato supposed that it was a bit of a nuisance, not being able to be covered up, but the bathroom window was fogged glass so no one on the outside could see in.

Peeta himself was showering, standing under the hot spray with his eyes closed as the water relentlessly battered his body. His wet skin glittered as suds slid down his body, leaving glistening trails of bubbles in its wake. Cato inhaled sharply. This was the first time he saw him completely naked.

His face was sated and calm, his soft lips pressed together gently. His eyebrows were furrowed and Cato couldn't read his expression. He trailed his eyes down his tender neck to his sharp collarbone, across his flushed chest to the swollen, sensitive flesh of his boobs. The nipples were pebbled and the colour of pale pink tea roses. Further down, his stomach was flat, the skin the colour of fresh cream. He had beautifully curved hips and strong, smooth legs. Shapely thighs and a cute navel.

Cato's eyes fell on the apex of his legs, where a small patch of curly, blond hair lay. He could imagine it's heat and moist caverns, of the noises he could elict from Peeta just by touching him there.

Peeta sighed and turned around so he faced the wall and Cato almost groaned out loud. Oh he had the most gorgeous ass he had ever seen in his entire life! It was smooth and plump, the muscles taut. Cato could easily encase himself in the tight heat of the younger boy's rear, fucking him until he screamed his name . . .

Cato almost entered the bathroom. He almost marched right up to Peeta and got in beside him, kissing him into oblivion while exploring his soft body with his hands and mouth. But something stopped him.

Peeta turned again and looked down at himself. He curled his lip in annoyed and suddenly lashed out, punching the tiled wall angrily before sinking to his knees and burying his face in his arms. Cato's heart cracked. He wanted to go in and hug him, tell him it was alright, that everything was going to be just fine. But he held back. He held back because he knew Peeta would not want him to be seeing him in such a state-especially since he was naked-and going in would no doubtly make things worse.

Sometimes Cato felt so helpless. He wanted to make Peeta happy and take his pain away until they could pay for his surgery.

And he had no idea how to do it.

A/N: Uh-oh, Marvel's blackmailed Peeta into a date :O What's going to happen?

Please R&R! :D