Chapter 10

Previously on The Hunger:

"Cato." Peeta begins, his voice thoughtful.

"Yes, Peeta?"

"No matter what happens to end these Games, I'm not leaving this arena without you."

Cato is silent, thinking this over.

"I never planned to leave without you."

Peeta leans down and presses his lips against his lover's. Their fingers loop together, showing the way they'll stick together no matter what.

-x-x-x-x-

At some point in the night they fell asleep in each other's arms, Peeta draped over Cato's body carelessly, his lips pressed into a continuous expression of happiness. They're both safe, they're both alive, they're both healthy. Peeta's dreams are happy; he dreams out getting out of the arena with Cato, of their life together. He refuses to believe that maybe things won't be the same when they get out, that maybe Cato won't want him. He is Cato's and Cato is his, nothing else seems plausible. Even the idea of being without each other, after just a few days, is perplexing. Peeta nuzzles his nose into the base of Cato's collar bone, refusing to believe that one, or both, of them most likely won't make it out of this place; it will be their tomb. Even if only one stays though, the other will die with him, their spirit forever being locked in the arena.

Peeta isn't sure how he knows that it's day light outside, it's not like there's any light coming through the cave, he just does. An internal clock, maybe. He inhales deeply, twisting his head to look up to the boy beneath him. Dried tears make his face feel crusty and filthy. It's such a small thing, yet it shows how much he's changed as a person in such a short time. The Peeta before the Games was neat, tidy; nearly obsessively clean. This Peeta is a stranger to him; a Peeta with dried blood and tears twisted into his skin and hair; a Peeta who kisses boys and stands up to Katniss; a Peeta who is a survivor.

There's something painfully innocent about Cato's face when he sleeps. Even in their most intimate moments so far Peeta has never seen him nearly this peaceful. The angry lines twisted into his jaw and forehead soften and flatten out while he sleeps, his expression slackening and his body relaxing. He appears younger, his lips parting ever so slightly. Warmth tugs at Peeta's chest, like a balloon inflating silently. It's an uncomfortable feeling, it robs him of his breath, though it's not completely unwelcomed.

Peeta sits up slowly, making distance between himself and his lover purposefully. His breath comes in jagged puffs, confusion and distortion inking the edges of his mind. What is he doing? He doesn't even know this boy; he has no reason to be so obsessed with him. Peeta knows that he's a sweetheart, he knows that he's romantic and caring; he knows that he falls hard and fast. Usually though that only happens when he's known the person his entire life and has only just started seeing them in a different light. No, this time he's never even had any more than one real conversation with Cato. His emotions are completely unrealistic and wrong.

So why do they feel so right? Why does it feel so completely right when he kisses Cato? Why is he completely unafraid to fall asleep in the other boy's arms, even knowing that those hands are completely capable of murder? Cato isn't his type and he's certain he's not Cato's, then why does it feel like he's been waiting for the moment to arrive each time Cato's skin touches his?

Peeta doesn't want to leave the arena without Cato, though how realistic is it that Cato will still want him once they're out, if they can even find a way out? How realistic that Peeta will still want him? The arena has changed Peeta, maybe once he's out he'll change back.

Peeta's heart pounds in his chest, questions with no answers swirling in his mind, assaulting him from every angle, tugging him in every direction. It's completely illogical that they're here together, especially for Peeta. He's not sure about the other boy, but Peeta's never been in a true relationship before. Flings, sure; everyone has those, even back home in District 12. He's kissed girls before, even gone on dates before, though never anything that he'd count a relationship. So why is he jumping into this one with Cato? It can't just be his emotions. As hard as Peeta falls for people he's still neat; he still likes to make sure that he has things in order, that every aspect of his life is orderly and logical. Cato, as amazing as he might be, is most definitely no logical, nor orderly. In fact, Cato is the messiest thing to ever be in his life. Perhaps it's the idea that he could die at any moment that throws him into Cato; the idea that this is his last chance at love that makes him fall so hard.

Peeta drags in a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut and leaning his back against one of the cave's walls. He lets his eyes flutter open to watch Cato sleeping. The reflection of the cave walls against each other illuminates the cave slightly, making the boy in front of him glow ever so slightly. Since Peeta moved he has stirred slowly, twisting to hug his own body. His fingers grasp the air where Peeta left space, lines of annoyance creasing his child-like face as he searches for his lost lover. A faint smile crosses Peeta's lips. Maybe it's not such a bad thing that he's taken advantage of the situation; that he's given love one last shot before his imminent death.

Bang. A grossly familiar explosion cracks outside of the cave, the sound of the cannons firing, signalling the death of yet another tribute. Mild curiosity rises in Peeta, though it's obvious Cato's reaction is very different.

A whimper tumbles from the taller blonde's lips as he wakes up slowly, his fingers grasping for Peeta. The baker's son sees the exact moment that Cato's search turns from innocent and curious to frantic and terrified. His eyes blink open instantly, fear in them unlike Peeta has ever seen in another. Peeta arches his eyebrow slightly, curious and confused by his lover's reaction.

"Peeta!" The boy gasps, nearly a scream. He looks around frantically, his body twisting into a distorted position to find his lost lover. In his sleep-tinged haze he misses the boy sitting right in front of him, not moving at all.

"I'm right here, Cato." Peeta murmurs, his voice nearly too quiet for Cato to hear initially. After a few more seconds of frantic search realisation settles in and his heavily-muscled body relaxes, his eyes falling upon the boy across the cave. He stands up, moving slower than earlier yet still more frantic than characteristic. He wanders towards the other boy, crouching on his knees in front of him and gently pressing the palms on his hands to his shoulders. He spends a moment searching for any signs of injury, other than the already ragged gash in his thigh.

"You scared me." He whispers, his eyes finally finding the sanctuary of the other boy's. "I heard the cannon and you were… you were gone." He chokes on his words, a crease of pain growing beneath his eyebrows. "I thought it was you; that you had done something stupid."

A gasp catches in Peeta's throat, his eyes widening as understanding takes him. Cato had thought he was dead; he thought he'd left him. A flash of emotion twists inside Peeta's gut, making him feel cold and warm at the same time. He's touched that Cato was so scared.

"I'm right here." He whispers, leaning forward slightly to press their lips together in a chaste kiss, no longer than strictly necessary to reassure the other boy.

"I can see that." He smiles faintly. A moment of amusement rushes between them before Cato sits down, putting a slight amount of distance between them.

"You should use some of that medication on your leg." Cato states, curiously lifting his shirt to see how much of a scar he still has. Along with the thick planes of muscle there's a faint pink line, shrunken even from the night before. It's more of a slit now, as if Cato partook in minor surgery.

Peeta pouts, thinking over these words. "It's yours though; I don't want to waste it when it was probably a gift from your sponsor." His lips twist into a firm line hoping that Cato hasn't realised that they really don't know where it came from.

Cato shakes his head. "Don't be a fucking idiot, Peeta. I'm healed, that shit isn't going to help me anymore. And as for you, how the fuck are you supposed to help us get out of here if you can hardly walk?"

Peeta's eyes narrow on the stern-faced boy in front of him. The following silence lasts two minutes before Peeta exhales deeply, relenting. He can't deny that Cato has a good point. Almost unwillingly he reaches out and takes the jar of cream, his fingers licking into the product and rubbing it into his injury before he can chicken out. He winces despite himself; although the medicine is instantly soothing the feeling of pressure on his injury still hurts.

"Good boy." Cato whispers, leaning closer for another kiss, less chaste than their earlier, yet still not much more than a press of the lips. Neither boy is sure that they'll ever grow accustomed to the feeling of kissing the other.

The pull apart after a leisurely amount of time. Cato's lips twist into a wicked grin, his eyes flashing with excitement. Peeta's blond eyebrow rises, cocking to one side.

"What's so exciting, love?" He murmurs, their faces kept close.

"I was just thinking," the other boy begins, his fingers stroking through Peeta's hair with a playful smile. "We could really get out of here. Before now it was really all an unrealistic dream; now we're in with a chance. A canon just went off, right? Let's think of how many people are left. Eleven Tributes died on the first day, most in the blood bath. We killed the girl from 8 on the second day, the one who started the fire. The boy from 3 and the girl from 4 died when The Girl on Fire dropped those tracker jackers on them." He sneers, distaste obvious in his expression. Peeta can't help but smile, amused by Cato's obvious hatred for his previous infatuation. "Someone died a couple days later, I'm pretty sure it was the boy from 10. That day that I went back for supplies I killed Clove. I also heard another canon fire; I'm not sure who it was but there was a lot of smoke in the mountains and I'm pretty sure it had something to do with that. Then there was the explosion this morning."

Cato pauses, calculating how many are left. "Seventeen dead. There's only seven left."

Blood rushes into Peeta's ears, the sound of it flowing filling his head and making it impossible to hear anything else, other than that voice in his head; seven it whispers. "There's only five left to kill." He thinks aloud, unaware that he's speaking. "I wonder if one of those is Katniss."

His lover arches an eyebrow. "We saw her just yesterday… She shot me. We both know she's alive and kicking, Peeta."

Peeta shakes his head. "There was a canon this morning, in case you forgot. Maybe it was her. Oh God do I hope it was her." Rage floods Peeta like he's never known. His mouth taste like sweetened metal, bittersweet and cold. Without even acknowledging it his hands begin shaking, fury charging him. His body feels as if his blood has been replaced with rocket fuel. He sees red; only red.

He doesn't notice the worried crease forming between Cato's eyebrows; he doesn't notice the expression of pain crossing over his features as he sees the boy he fell in love with this way. Peeta is sweet and kind, he loves people and he does anything to save them. Seeing him like this, so full of wrath, it pains him.

"You can't mean that."

"She shot you, Cato. My only regret if she died would be that I wasn't there to see her choking on her own blood."

Silence envelops them, though the feeling of rage and concern crackles between them as if it's alive. Detesting the feelings stirring in his angelic lover, though knowing that nothing he says will stop him from feeling it, Cato leans forwards and presses their lips together, hard. Peeta is stunned and pulls away, arching a suspicious eyebrow.

"What was that for?"

"Just shut up and kiss me." Cato responds, leaning forward and wrapping his arms around Peeta's shoulders, tugging him close to himself whether the other boy is willing or not. Peeta stays rigged for a few moments, his rage separating him from what he wishes he could accept, before the temptation becomes too much and he falls into the arms of his lover.

Each kiss reminds them of their first, full of fire and passion and warmth. Peeta feels his skin setting on fire everywhere Cato's 'kin touches, everywhere that lacks contact feeling frozen in comparison. He feels his heart pounding in his chest and he's almost certain that Cato can hear it, it's that loud. Their kisses are fierce and hard, the kisses of survivors.

Their kisses start slow but are full of heat, their lips quickly numbing from the pressure though neither boy cares. Their hands crawl over each other, exploring. Peeta's arms loop around Cato's neck, dragging him closer; Cato's fingers stroke along Peeta's back. Suddenly no closeness is close enough. With trembling hands Peeta finds the hem of the other's boys shirt, curling his fingers around it. The tips of his fingers incidentally graze against Cato's flat stomach, just above the waistband of his loose pants, eliciting a sharp gasp from Cato's throat. Peeta shivers at the sound, his grip tightening on the shirt as he begins to lift. Their kiss breaks just long enough for the shirt to be tugged over Cato's head and discarded. Their lips crush back together with more force this time, the hunger sparking between them like a firework.

Hungry fingers curl along Cato's sculpted chest, searching for what, Peeta is not sure. He follows instinct, does what feels right. His fingertips barely tickle the hard skin along his chest provoking low moans to vibrate from Cato's throat. Peeta trembles, the muscles in his abdomen contracting with the sound. His fingers curl around Cato's upper chest, his entire body shivering.

Moans shared between them, Cato finds the hem of Peeta's shirt and tugs it off, twice as demandingly as Peeta. It reminds Peeta of how experienced his lover is in comparison to him. The reminder of his lover's experience sparks something inside of Peeta, igniting his organs on fire. He longs to prove himself, to not let Cato's capability intimidate him. He breaks away from the kiss, his eyes glowing fiercely blue. In response Cato arches a blonde eyebrow, his eyes showing confusion and excitement merged together.

"Lie down." Peeta barks, his breathing harsh. Does he have any idea what he's doing? No. Has he ever done anything similar? No. But in order to prove himself to Cato he's willing to try.

Lust explodes in Cato's eyes as he follows Peeta's instruction, rolling his body backwards to lie on his back. His bare chest rises and falls rapidly, his breathing coarse and strained as his arousal steadily grows.

Peeta presses his lips together into a tight line, attempting to keep him expression calm. He doesn't want Cato to see just how terrified he is. Though at the same time he feels warm and powerful and strong, he feels in control and he knows that he wants this.

Painfully slowly Peeta rolls his body forwards, pressing his hands to the ground beside Cato's head. He stretches his own body of the lying boy's, hovering just millimetres over the anxious body. A flickered smirk plays on his lips as he feels Cato's arousal pressing against him, his own groin twitching in reaction.

Peeta reunites their kiss with force, nipping on Cato's lower lip with playful, teasing teeth. Louder moans roll from Cato's throat and his hips buck upwards to convey his desire. Peeta curls his knees up, straddling himself over Cato's hips and bucking his own hips back, eliciting a strange noise from the boy beneath him, like a hybrid between a groan and a gasp. Peeta darts his tongue out, licking his lover's lips before moving on to kiss his neck. He does what feels right, nipping the sensitive skin there, licking it or just pressing his lips against it. While his mouth is busy his fingers are doing work of their own, sliding against the waistband of Cato's elastic pants.

He pauses for a moment, considering exactly what it is he's doing. Once he takes this step with Cato there's no going back; it's the true acknowledgment that there's something between them, something that could change them both forever. Peeta has never done anything more than kiss a girl; this is a lot more than kissing. Fear mingles into his stomach, merging with the feeling of lust and anticipation. His tongue flutters against Cato's lower lip to keep from discouraging him as he has his internal battle. The moan drawn from his lover's lips is enough to make the decision for him.

He bites down, catching his lover's lip between his teeth and his hand plunges into the pair of pants beneath him. He feels Cato's gasp beneath him, not hearing it over the thumping of his own heart in his ears. This is it a gentle voice coos into his ear. The point of no return. Peeta inhales deeply as he searches for the thing that promises him satisfaction, his fingers curling around it within seconds.

A grunt is shared between them as Peeta's hand glides against Cato's sensitive skin, a low growl growing in the taller boy's throat. Fingers twitching with nerves, Peeta curls around Cato's length, stroking shakily. Their kisses become animalistic, Cato's teeth grazing against every inch of skin they can find. His fingers curl out into Peeta's hair, tugging it hard every time Peeta does something exceptionally right. The tugging rolls over Peeta in waves of pleasure, hardening him further with every tug.

Peeta suddenly wants more. No amount of Cato will ever be enough. With hands no longer shaking from nerves but from anticipation, he shoves Cato's pants and boxers down to his knees. The boy beneath him gasps as the cold of the cave tackles him, battling against the heat of his lover. Peeta lets go of the kiss, causing a whine of annoyance to curl from the taller boy and lets go of his length. Cato is about to verbally complain though Peeta doesn't keep him waiting for long. In seconds Peeta's lips are pressed to Cato's tip, teasing.

Cato's gasp at that is honestly the most erotic sound Peeta has ever heard. His own body growls in response, flicking out a tongue to stroke the very tip of his length. Cato's fingers rip into Peeta's hair, emitting a pleasured whimper from the boy above him. Peeta widens his lips ever so slightly allowing the member to enter his moist mouth. Cato's head arches back, slamming so hard into the cave floor that Peeta is momentarily concerned that he's injured. That is, until her hears the sound from his lips.

"More!" It's really more of a cry, as far as volume goes but in desire it's more of an outright scream. Peeta quivers, the sound nearly too much for him to bear. He strokes his tongue out, luring the length further into his mouth. It is compliant, entering without any complaints. He exhales loudly, his breath hot against Cato's wet member, drawing a deep shudder from the boy beneath him. He draws it in further until his lips reach its base. He feels Cato's length pressed against the back of his throat and whimpers with pleasure, the vibrations apparently pleasant as it causes a sob of desire from the taller of the two boys as well.

Peeta experiments, stroking Cato's length with his own tongue, licking against the shaft. He grazes his teeth ever so slightly against the sensitive skin, grinning wickedly at the reactions of that. He takes Cato deeper, plunging into an abyss that neither boy ever wants to leave. He mimics swallowing with his throat, the muscles of his neck contracting against the stiff flesh inside him.

Once he feels that Cato can take no more he flutters his eyes open, arching his head to look up at the boy beneath him. Cato's body is burled into an upwards position, his eyes locking with Peeta's. Cato's eyes are darkened with lust, his hair sticking out in odd directions, mimicking some sort of crazy scientist. Unsure of how in God's name he does it, Cato pulls off the look. On him crazy scientist hair looks crazy attractive, more like a sex-drunk model than anything else. Peeta shudders at the look in his lovers eye feeling the other boy tremble beneath him.

"Peeta." He cries, nearly silently as they finish together. Salt and rain explode into Peeta's mouth, the taste of Cato. It drowns him in ecstasy with each swallow he takes, moans vibrating from his throat. His own length blasts beneath him, squirting thick liquid through his boxers and up on his stomach.

They ride it out together, eyes rolling back into their heads and jaws slackening as they are attacked by racks of pleasure. The feeling lasts only a few short moments, but it's not something Peeta will soon forget.

As Cato slackens against his exhausted tongue, Peeta pulls away, gasping with shock and awe. His heart thuds hard in his chest, pounding in his ears loud enough for him to be amazed Cato can't hear it. He lets Cato's length fall from his lips, sitting up. His legs stay straddled over Cato's thin hips beneath him and he glances down, their eyes locking.

The air between them feels charged with electricity and adrenaline; they could do anything in this moment.

They are infinite.

"Peeta." Cato coos, his expression slackening into innocence, mimicking his facials while he sleep. Peeta arches an eyebrow in question. Cato's fingers crawls against the cave floor beside him, gesturing for Peeta to lie beside him. Smiling softly, Peeta pulls himself off of his lover's hips, crawling into a ball beside him.

Peeta's head rests against Cato's shoulder, wrapped around him, given a perfect view of the angelic boy beside him. Most people would never appreciate Cato's beauty, not in the way Peeta does. Most people will never see past the harshness of his actions, of the ferocity of his glare. Most people will never give him a chance to prove what a perfect, unbelievably good human being he can be. Peeta has a slight sneaking suspicion that it's just being around the shorter boy that brings out the overwhelming goodness of him, though he doesn't mind too much. In fact, he likes it. He likes the idea that there's a part of Cato for him and only him, a whole new person that nobody else will ever see.

Right now Cato's face, the face that Peeta has become so familiar with recently, is set into a look of faint concentration, obviously considering something deeply. A small part of Peeta wishes to ask him what's on his mind, the other part much too content just watching him think. Absently Cato presses his hand against Peeta's shoulder, his thumb rolling assuring circles into the skin there. Peeta shuts his eyes, nuzzling closer to Cato as he lets himself live in the moment.

It is quiet for a long time, though it's a comfortable feeling. Peeta is pretty certain they should get up and clean up, maybe eat something but he stays exactly where he is, letting the day die away.

"I've been thinking," Cato drawls, breaking the silence. Startled, Peeta blinks his eyes, glancing upwards to see Cato's face as he speaks.

"That can't be a good thing." Peeta jokes playfully, not something he's familiar with. Cato half grins, the expression sending Peeta's heart in a flutter of nerves.

"That we really need to get out of here." Peeta frowns.

"I'm pretty comfortable where I am."

"I don't mean this cave; I mean the arena. Think about it, Peeta, they're never going to let us out of here together, not matter what happens. We have to get out ourselves."

Peeta's eyebrows furrow slightly as the thinks it over, his lips twisting into a thoughtful pout.

"But there's no way out. Cato, this place was built to be our tomb or to make us 'heroes'." Cato shakes his head.

"As I said, I've been thinking." He grins wickedly. "I do that sometimes, you know.

"Anyway, I have a plan I don't know if it'll actually work or not, but it's the best thing we've got."

Peeta arches an eyebrow, intrigued. Cato glances down at him, grinning wildly. It reminds him of the first Cato he met; the shark of a guy who wouldn't let anything get in his way; the Cato with the sharp lines and an animalistic nature.

"Get cleaned up; we're going into the arena."

-x-x-x-x-

AN: I hate it when authors leave ANs so I promise this will be short.

Firstly this is the first ever smut scene I've actually written and I hope it doesn't absolutely suck lemons (hehe, see what I did there?)

Secondly I changed some things around and now there will only be 11 chapters, so there's only one after this. I also might post a teaser to The Chase, I'm not sure.

Thirdly I'm sorry that this whole story has been so short. When I first envisioned The Hunger it was completely different. It was supposed to be about Cato chasing Peeta down, animosity, hunger, desire; it was supposed to be about acting on human desire. I never really planned to have any opportunity for a sequel, how I originally imagined it Cato would be dead by the end of The Hunger. But with all of the changes that I made a sequel was really necessary. In all honesty The Hunger is more of a prequel to The Chase. I'm not sure when I'll get around to actually writing The Chase (it could be weeks, it could be months, it could even be years) but I promise I'll get to it.

Anyway, if you've stuck with the boys this long I hope that you'll stay around to read the final chapter. I love you all, I really do.