'You know you're in love when you can't fall asleep because your reality is finally better than your dreams.'
- Dr. Suess
Katniss and Peeta practice swapping bodily fluids near the end of this chapter. It's a good thing they're studying so much.
Katniss
We went to 'bed' about a half hour ago, but I'm still wide awake. I can't tell if Peeta's sleeping, which I usually am able to do. My head is resting on his chest, his heart beating steadily, calming me.
I tilt my head and look up at my husband. His eyes are closed, but that doesn't mean anything. He probably knows I'm still awake and is staying up in case I need him. I wish he wouldn't sacrifice his own sleep on my account, but it would be pointless to confront him about it.
Being back in Panem has been a rollercoaster ride for both of us. We have some serious family problems that we've only just begun to work on. Not only does Peeta have to deal with facing his abuser, but we found out she's now a raging alcoholic on top of everything. From the little display she put on when we saw her, it's going to be incredibly tough for him to see her again. I curse her for the millionth time in my head. Peeta's the kindest soul I've ever met, and I'm convinced that's a big part of why she beat him. Simply put, she was jealous. Peeta has a genuine heart. He truly cares about the people he loves, and would do anything for them. She took advantage of that. You should be able to trust your mother and love her, not be terrified of her.
What's keeping me up now is my inner debate on whether to reveal to Peeta what I've been thinking about since we saw his mom. From the way he reacted to her, shaking uncontrollably and being obviously petrified, I'm convinced that he needs more help than just me. I know a little about having mother issues, but the problems I have with my mother pale in comparison to his.
How do you tell the person you love most in the world, your partner, your lover, that you think they need to see a psychologist? How do you suggest going to therapy? Thinking about it, I realize that no matter how I phrase it, no matter how good my reasons may be, he's most likely going to take it as a sign that I think he's weak. He'll start to question my faith in him. Of course, that's certainly not my intent. I love him. I want him to get better. I realize I can't give him the help he needs on my own.
I sigh deeply, my mind a mess. One minute I'm confident that I can do it, the next I'm scared of even bringing the subject up. Should I call someone like Prim or Annie to ask for advice? Should I wait, go talk to a psychologist, and get a recommendation? Or should I just come out with it, tell him what I think?
Tears start pooling in my eyes as my inner debate rages. I don't want him thinking his wife doesn't think he's strong. It's just the opposite. But how can I convince him of that? How can I tell him he needs help? Maybe admitting that I also need to talk to a professional might help. I definitely have some complicated issues of my own.
I sniffle and wipe my eyes with the back of my hand. I wish I could just fall asleep and all this will be resolved by morning. I wish he could see what I see in him, his endless strength of character, his golden heart. His mother tried, for years, to break him, and although he certainly still needs to deal with the aftermath, he's survived and thrived.
"I don't know what to do baby," I whisper painfully. "I just love you so much. I can't stand to see you hurting."
I realize I just said that out loud. I watch closely for any sign he's awake, but receive none. The rise and fall of his chest remains steady, his heart beating at the same pace. I don't know if I'm glad or sad that he appears to be sleeping.
The problem is that, ever since we reconnected, he's the person I go to with problems. But this problem directly involves him. I can't ask him for advice on how to deal with him, now can I?
My thoughts still a jumbled mess, I somehow slip into the darkness, Peeta subconsciously tightening his arms around me.
Peeta
I noticed the change in Katniss' demeanor last night. She was quieter, more reserved. Now, she's always been a quiet person, but ever since we began dating she's really come out of her shell. To see her revert back to how she was before is concerning.
She is the type of person who needs to work things out on her own before taking them to someone else. Knowing this, I keep my mouth shut and let her do her thing.
The sunlight starts peeking through the window over the lake. I crack my eyes open a tiny bit and look out the window. The mist is rising off the water, which is as still as glass. There are a few puffy white clouds but for the most part the sky is a beautiful, deep, bright blue.
Katniss is curled into me, her leg thrown over my own. Her head is on my chest in its usual spot, and her arm is wrapped tightly around my torso. Even now, when she's asleep, wearing only her bra and panties with her hair a tangled mess, she's beautiful. I run my fingers through her dark locks slowly, relishing these silent moments before the day really begins.
"You like petting me like a dog, huh?" She teases quietly. I hadn't realized she'd woken up, as my gaze is focused outside the window.
My response is to kiss the top of her head and smirk. She just smiles softly and shakes her head.
"I can stop if you want," I joke.
"Don't," she answers seriously.
We go back to the comfortable silence, and she gets that look of almost puzzlement on her face again, like she's trying to figure something out and is stumped.
"Katniss?"
"Hmm?"
"Please tell me what's going on," I plead, barely above a whisper.
"What do you mean?" She tries to deflect, not looking me in the eye. The lack of eye contact alone is enough to tip me off.
"Honey," I sigh. "You're my wife. I think I can tell when something's bothering you. Please, talk to me. Or, if you don't want to, and I understand that, talk to someone else. Maybe Prim or your mom?"
She finally turns her head and the look in her eyes devastates me. She's scared, anxious, and on the verge of tears.
"Oh baby," I whisper, cradling her cheek. "What's got my girl so upset?"
She looks so vulnerable, so young. Her pupils are as wide as can be in obvious distress. I have no idea what has her so distraught. All I want to do is help her. I love her so much.
"Katniss, I love you," I reassure. "You can tell me anything."
Katniss
Half the time, when he looks at me like this, I hate it. The other half I love it. He can get me to do anything without saying a word, just using his eyes. Of course, as soon as he opens his mouth, I'm done for. Cooked.
I could see him trying to hide the hurt on his face when he told me if I didn't want to talk to him, I could talk to my sister or my mom. Of course it's him I want to talk to, and not just because what's bothering me directly involves him. I always want him to be the person I go to, and vice-versa. It's like Peeta told me on Everest before we got married, we're best friends no matter what. And best friends go to each other for help.
When he tells me he loves me, that's the final straw. I know I can't hold it in anymore. I know I have to be honest with him. Completely honest.
I take a deep breath and pray that I can say this the right way.
"Peeta," my voice sounds so timid, so small, even to me.
"I'm right here," he soothes.
I sit up a bit and he does as well. He pulls me towards him and I slide into his lap sideways, our faces inches apart.
"I need to talk to you about something," I say before I lose my nerve.
"Okay," he nods, then waits for me.
I exhale loudly, preparing myself. I avert my eyes for a couple seconds as I gather my resolve, then lock eyes with him to relay my sincerity and love.
"I think you need to talk to someone," I begin. He looks at me, confused. "Like a therapist," I explain. His eyes widen and I start to panic. "Baby, it's not what you think. Look – it's just – god I'm screwing this up," I huff.
"Kat, calm down," he quietly responds. "Tell me."
"I love you Peeta," I declare as honestly as I can, taking his face in my hands and giving him a quick peck on the lips. "I love you so much. You're my husband, and as your wife, it's my job to take care of you. When we saw your mom – well – you remember what happened. I just think it might help us both to talk to someone impartial. It's not because I think you're weak or incapable, I just hate seeing you hurt in any way. I think we'd both be happier if we could start working out some of our childhood crap. I'm certainly not perfect either baby. I definitely need to talk to someone about everything I went through growing up."
I hold my breath as he processes everything. I'm still cradling his face with my hands, rubbing gentle circles with my thumbs on his cheeks. He closes his eyes and I patiently wait.
"Peeta?" I try to bring him back after a couple minutes.
He slowly opens his eyes and I'm relieved to see them filled with love, adoration, and the usual spark I see everyday.
"You're amazing," he whispers in wonderment.
I quirk an eyebrow, silently asking him to clarify.
"I know how hard it is for you to ask for help," he goes on. "It must've been really tough for you to say all that, right?"
I nod sheepishly.
"Thank you Katniss," he gives me a soft smile. "Thank you for everything. I think you're right honey. I certainly wasn't ready to see my mom, and if we're going to be parents someday, we need to be ready mentally and emotionally."
I let out a relieved breath that he gets it. That's almost exactly what I'd been thinking – that if we're going to be mommy and daddy one day, we can't have our own parental issues still going on.
"Really? You're not – you're not mad?" I ask nervously.
"Of course not," he instantly answers. "Why would I be mad?"
I shrug.
"I don't know," I admit quietly. "I didn't know how'd you react. If you'd told me I need therapy, which of course I do just like you, I probably would've yelled at you."
We both chuckle, knowing it's most likely the truth.
"Well I happen to have a wonderful wife that cares about me more than I could ever hope for," he grins. "And she just happens to be the smartest person I know, so when she suggests something, I usually listen."
I roll my eyes playfully and giggle.
"I guess I'm lucky my husband doesn't have my short temper," I grin back. "Let's hope our kids get your personality, okay baby?"
"No way," he shakes his head vehemently. "I want a beautiful girl who will look just like her mommy and have her fire."
"Why in the world would you want another me?" I ask incredulously.
It's his turn to roll his eyes.
"Because you're the closest thing to perfect I've ever laid eyes on," he tells me seriously. "And I know you're going to be the best mommy in the world."
"Only because I'll be learning from the best daddy in the world," I shoot back. He smiles and I can't stop myself from kissing him.
"Come on," he starts getting us out of bed. "I want to cook my gorgeous wife breakfast."
"Mmm," I lick my lips seductively. "Can I have dessert in bed afterwards?" I teasingly slide my hand under his boxers and grasp his cock.
He's barely able to nod and I giggle even louder.
Peeta
I understand completely why Katniss was so nervous to tell me all that, but really she didn't have to be. Honestly, I've thought about seeking professional help for a long time, but I put it off and stayed away from Panem, thinking that would solve it. I was wrong, of course.
Burying a problem doesn't fix it. It just hides it. It'll remain until you deal with it, which I've never done.
I could see how hard it was for her to not only suggest it to me, but admit that she also needs help. I remember clearly how she reacted when Haymitch assigned me as her climbing partner. Even though that obviously worked out pretty well, Katniss is still a highly independent person who has done almost everything by herself for years. She's changing, of course, but it's definitely one of the things I admire most about my wife.
She hops up and sits on the counter next to me as I start making breakfast. She spends the entire time teasing me with bedroom eyes and wildly inappropriate comments. We both love it.
"Shit that's hard," I huff frustrated when the eggs I'm cracking decide to break apart in my hand.
"That's what she said," Katniss smirks and giggles. "Wait, if I'm already a 'she', would it be 'that's what I said'?"
I shrug and chuckle.
"I'm not sure," I admit as I pick out pieces of eggshell. "I guess it's up to the 'she' in the situation."
"Hmm," she taps her finger against her chin. "How come nobody says 'that's what he says'?"
"Who knows? Probably because it's easier to relate things to the female side of sex?"
"Maybe," she ponders.
"Well, try to think of something where we could say 'that's what he said'," I suggest.
She thinks for a few moments, her 'concentration' face absolutely adorable.
"Got it!" She exclaims. I motion for her to go ahead. "How about 'damn that's tight'?"
"That's what he said," I try out. It works and we both burst out laughing. "Actually honey, that's definitely one where I could say 'that's what I said'," I tease.
She narrows her eyes jokingly.
"Kat that's a good thing," I smile.
"Is it?" She gives me the innocent, puppy dog look. "You like my tight pussy?"
She slowly lifts up my t-shirt that she's wearing, exposing her lacy panties. She stares me dead in the eye as she slides her hand under and slips a finger into herself.
"Mmmm you're right," she moans, her eyes sliding shut.
"Kat please," I beg, trying to avert my eyes unsuccessfully.
"What? You're cooking. I have to keep myself entertained somehow," she smirks, her other hand now fondling her boob.
"Katniss," I beg even more insistently, my now hard erection pressing against my sweats.
Of course, Katniss notices.
"Isn't there some kind of danger associated with cooking while hard?" She jokes with a sadistic grin.
"Probably," I whimper. "But right now I honestly could care less."
"Yeah? You like watching me finger myself?"
I just nod, my eyes glazing over.
"You want to watch me make myself come?" She asks, biting her bottom lip.
I just nod again.
"Too bad!" She smiles, removing her hand from her panties and stopping fondling herself.
She gives me a triumphant look, like she thinks she won this round. I glance around at the progress of my cooking. Her distractions have impeded my progress greatly. I haven't even turned on the stove yet, or began mixing ingredients for pancakes.
My wife watches me curiously, expecting me to get back to cooking. If she thinks I can just pretend I'm not wildly aroused, she's sorely mistaken.
I move two steps to the right so I'm in front of her.
"Do you need something out of the cupboard?" She asks, motioning behind her to the cupboard she's blocking.
"Nope," I shake my head.
"The drawer?" She asks, pointing to the drawer her legs are dangling in front of.
"Nope," I repeat.
"Then what do you need?" She's exasperated and I just chuckle.
"You," I reply simply. Her eyes widen.
Before she can react, I circle my arms around her and pick her up off the counter. Her legs, out of pure instinct, wrap around my midsection and I feel her ankles lock on my back.
"Peeta?"
I don't answer her verbally. Instead, I turn to the kitchen table and almost slam her back down onto it. Her eyes darken immediately in lust, I'm sure mirroring my own.
I reach up and grab her panties while she simultaneously uses her toes to curl under my sweats and slide them and my boxers skillfully down my legs. I get her panties off and I give them a quick sniff before I toss them over my shoulder.
"Someone's wet," I tease.
"I'm not the only one aroused," she teases back, glancing down at my hard cock.
She pulls her tee over her head quickly and I just rip her bra down, not even bothering to unclasp it.
"Get the fuck inside me right now," she growls.
Who am I to argue?
"That's what she said," I joke.
"Damn right," she's deadly serious.
I grab her hips and pull her towards me while she wraps her hand around my erection and guides it to her entrance.
I lift her legs up, giving me a different angle, and push all the way inside her. We moan in unison while I stuff her, pull almost all the way out, and repeat.
"We were right," I groan amid thrusts. "You're so tight honey."
"Told you so," she smirks, and I lean down and kiss her thoroughly, then she whispers against my lips. "You're the only man who will ever fuck me. Use me however you want."
"Oh god yes," I reply excitedly, and she giggles and kisses me again.
A couple minutes later I pull out, and she doesn't say a word as I grab her, pick her up, flip her around, and bend her over the table. I grab her hips again as I enter her from behind. I keep one hand on her hip while I snake the other one up to her boob and fondle it roughly.
"Harder," she begs. "Please baby. Harder. I'm going to come so hard."
A minute later she climaxes, begging me to fuck her faster and deeper, almost screaming my name.
We'd gotten so used to having sex on the mountain in tents, literally feet away from our friends. Now we're in our own home, and our nearest neighbor is at least four miles away. We still automatically censor ourselves and our volume, but we're starting to realize we can be as loud as we feel like being.
"Oh my god," she moans, "you're so fucking huge baby. Push all the way in. I want to feel every inch of you inside me."
I heed her request, using my grip on her hips to slam into her as hard and as deep as possible. The table, which started out at least three feet from the wall, is now banging up against it after each thrust. Katniss' hands are gripping the edge of the table behind her, and I see her knuckles going white from the amount of pressure she's applying.
"Kat I'm going to come," I inform breathily.
"I want it all over my face and tits again," she responds.
We work together as I pull out, and soon she's turned back around to face me and kneels right in front of me. She looks up and locks gazes with me as she cups my balls in her hand and takes my cock in her mouth, bobbing her head accordingly as she sucks it.
"Oh shit," I groan loudly, "I'm there baby."
She positions my cock right in front of her face, barely centimeters away, and strokes furiously to bring me to my climax.
Her eyes close as I burst all over her face. Halfway through, she points the tip down a little so I drench her breasts. Once she feels I'm spent, she wipes her eyes quickly and opens them, looking down at the results of my orgasm.
I watch with sheer fascination as drops of my come drip off of her chin and land on her chest. She meticulously scoops up as much of it as she can from her face and boobs, moaning like she's eating filet while she deposits all of it right into her mouth. She uses the very tip of her finger to clean my length, purposely going painfully slow. Once she's convinced she's gotten as much of it as she can from both of us, she tilts her head up and opens her mouth slightly, showing me to pool of my come in her mouth. She over-exaggerates the act of swallowing all of it, opening her mouth wide afterwards to prove she took it all.
"Mmmmm," she grins. Knowing it'll send a shiver down my spine, she gently kisses the very tip of my slowly fading erection, peppering it with her soft lips.
"Wow," is all I can manage to say.
"Tell me about it," she smiles as she stands back up.
"Kat can I ask you a question?" We're walking back upstairs to hop in the shower together quickly before we go back down to finish making and eating breakfast.
"Of course," she nods as we strip in the bathroom.
"Do you really like when I come all over you like that?" I ask nervously.
She flips the shower on and tests the water with her hand before answering.
"Yes," she relays with honesty. "I do."
"How? I mean, it's obvious how amazing it is for me. Do you do it just because you know how much I like it?"
"Partly, yes," she nods as we step under the stream of warm water. She hands me her shampoo and I begin lathering it into her dark hair. "But there's just something about me kneeling in front of you that arouses me. I love watching you come, the look of joy you get on your face."
"Really?"
"Let me ask you something," she quickly replies.
"Sure."
"Do you like it when I come when you're using your tongue to get me there? With your face right between my legs?"
"Of course," I answer immediately. "Oh, I get it."
"Yup," she smiles triumphantly again. "You're my husband Peeta. My happiness is directly correlated to yours. I've told you many times, but I'll say it as many times as you want. This," she motions to her beautiful, naked, soaking wet body, "is yours. Understand something. Unless it's something completely ridiculous and I find it repulsive, you can do whatever you want with my body. If you want to come in my mouth, or in my hair, or on my tits, or inside my pussy, or on my back, or in between my toes, go right ahead. If you wake up and you want to fuck, you don't even have to ask. Just start fucking me, I'll wake up and join soon enough."
My jaw drops and my hands freeze in her hair. She giggles and, as always, her boobs jiggle. I feel my erection growing quickly.
"I'm serious," she grins.
"I love you," I mumble.
"I love you too baby. Wash my back please?" She hands me the soap.
A/N: So, bit of a more emotional chapter followed up by some awesome smut. I hope you enjoyed it. It's really just a filler chapter helping to set up the overall arc of they story. The first few were them returning home, getting settled in, introducing some other characters, and making some plans for the future.
Ripe, you're right, they did agree to climb the Bigelows together, so definitely expect to see that in the near future. Since that's a mountain I've actually climbed (a number of times, both in winter and summer), I'll try to make it as close to how it really is as possible. I've also canoed across Flagstaff Lake and spent weeks camping on various parts of it, so the descriptions I use are from personal experience.
If you didn't already read it, I posted the newest chapter of 'The Truth Revealed' last night, entitled 'The Decision'. Please check it out and review!
As always, thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing. You guys are awesome.
