A/N: Sorry this took so long guys! I've had a lot on my plate recently!
Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games.
Thanks to SakuraDrops141 for helping me get back on track.
Chapter Ten- All mine
Finnick: Fourteen years ago: District 3 Cafe:
I don't know why I agreed to meet him. We haven't seen each other for nearly three years now. It was his idea though. He wanted to 'tie up loose ends' or whatever, I don't know. I don't mind talking to him, I have plenty of things I can flaunt in his face: my money, my job, my golden boy. It's him I'm more worried about.
Brian is a stereotypical member of three. Dark scruffy hair, chocolate brown eyes, smart as hell. If I'm honest, we were more of friends with benefits than anything else. Not that I'm complaining. He was a statisfying enough fuck. Nothing mindblowing like with Peeta but good enough.
I've discovered what it is about Peeta that attracts me so much. Other than being the most beautiful, gorgeous, sexiest man I've ever laid eyes on, it's the fact that he doesn't want me that makes me want him more. I've had people gall over me and beg for it all my life, having someone who struggles and protests is much more enjoyable than having someone who is compliant and wants it.
"So, who's grabbed your attention now?"
I look up from my coffee and continue to stir. "What do you mean?"
"Someone's obviously caught your attention. You're different. Like all disconnected and weird," Brian says. "So who is it? Another hooker?"
"Yes," I reply. "But it's different."
"How so?"
I take the photo of Peeta out of wallet and hand it to my friend. He examines it carefully and his eyes nearly bulge out of his head.
"Understand now?" I ask.
"Fuck Finnick," Brian says, holding the photo right up to his eyes. I grin truimphantly and take a sip of my coffee. We sit in silence for a moment before Brian speaks again. "He's a hooker?" he asks. I nod. "Mind if I get in on that?"
I consider this. Even though Brian and I used to go out and having a threesome could have some serious repercussions, the thought of my golden boy getting attacked with two bouts of pleasure sounds very pleasing. And I know from experience that Brian can deliver.
"Sure," I reply. "Why not."
"It's weird," Brian says. "For once it's not about you." I scowl at him but he just grins. "What? Can Mr. Odair not handle not being the center of attention?"
"Fuck up Brian," I snap. Brian chuckles and shakes his head.
"I'm kidding Finn," he says.
"There can't be any repercussions from this," I warn, taking the photo back and smiling at the man in it.
I snapped this photo discreetly, when he was unaware of it. I had bought him for a whole night and took it the next morning. I had went to the shower and came back to find him sitting on the bed, his knees bent slight and his arms resting around them. The duvet was wrapped around him, dipping at the back, almost teasingly to stop below the dimples of his back. The morning light streaming in through my bedroom window set his hair alight, like glittering gold. The photo almost looked like it was professionally taken. Which is wasn't.
I really must talk to that friend of mine, what's his name? He takes professional photos for playboy . . . I wonder if he'd take a couple of hours out of his day to take a couple photos of Peeta for me . . .
"I don't understand how you do it," Brian says. "You seem to attract the most attractive of creatures like a fucking siren."
"That's the problem," I reply. "This creature doesn't like me. In fact, he hates me with a passion." Brian quirks an eyebrow and I shrug. "What can he do? His family are starving."
"I bet you're his best customer," Brian says. "You get very attatched."
"Oh do shut up," I answer dryly.
Present time: District 4: Next day: An old alleyway:
"Where are they?!" I demand. "I know you know so don't even bother trying to lie to me!" Brian chuckles and shakes his head. He doesn't seem to care that I have him up against a wall very close to beating the shit out of him. In fact, his calm demeanour grates on me.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he says.
"Oh you know what I'm talking about," I snap. "Don't even pretend you don't because I'am not in the mood for messing around. I need to know what hotel they're staying at now."
"Fine," Brian sighs, rolling his eyes. "They're at the district's patheic copy of the Ritz. Not far down the road, beside the East West beach." I nod and let go of his shirt with a push. He quirks an eyebrow and smirks. "Why? Missing your old fuck buddy?"
"That's none of your buisness," I reply.
"I wouldn't be surprised," Brian puts forward. "He was a good one."
"Yes, well, that's in the past," I answer. "For you anyway."
Brian laughs and takes a step forward, standing inches away from me. "There may have been many people you can intimidate Finnick but I'am not one of them."
"Oh really now?"
"Yes," Brian says. "When you dumped me you seemed to begin to think you could scare anyone into a cowering mess just because you started to fuck a wimp who fell apart everytime you decided to get rough. At least I knew how to handle it when you began to get into bondage and S&M."
"I didn't see you complaining when you came with me to see him," I reply, folding my arms and staring him down.
"That's because the kid was hot. Jeez Finnick, I hadn't had a good fuck for the best part of a year and when you showed me the photo of the boy I saw an oppurtunity and took it. I knew you certainly weren't going to want to have a go again," Brian answers. "Plus the kid wasn't bad. Was compliant enough when I waved that giant wad of cash under his nose."
"I'm going to claim him as mine," I state. "There's no need to be jealous Bri. Just because I wouldn't mark you with the penknife you gave me that night. I held myself out for the perfect man and I found him. I don't need you anymore. Sorry."
"I wouldn't want you anymore even if you offered anyway," Brian says. "I couldn't care less about who you 'claim.' I just feel sorry for Peeta. Poor guy is doomed to a life of pain and suffering."
"Glad you think so," I smirk in reply. "You know what they say, some people's paths are chosen-"
"Others are decided for them," Brian finishes gravely. "Be careful Finnick. You're treading on fragile ground."
"Just do me a favour and ring the cops. Tell them I'll be at the Ritz rip-off and need to report a claiming, okay?"
"Anything for you sweetie," Brian says with faux sweetness. He takes out his mobile and dials down the number for the police. I turn and walk away, heading to said hotel to meet the police.
Peeta: Same time:
I stare at myself in the hotel mirror, my hands gripping the dressing table to keep myself from losing balance and falling over. My prostetic is on but it just feels like a deadweight designed more to weight me down than to help me walk.
Even after having a shower I look a mess. Dark circles are marked deep under my eyes and look like I've smudged dirt under my eyes. The nightmares are coming more frequently and for some reason seem to be getting more and more realistic like the drug Dr. Cresta gave me for the mood swings is still working its way out of me. My hair is scruffed up every which way and is matted in places. In the reflection of the mirror, I can see my wheelchair pushed up against the back wall-where I kicked it when I pulled myself off it. I shut my eyes to block out the sad image that is now myself and fight back tears.
A set of hands rest on my shoulders, softly squeezing them reassuringly over the material of the hotel dressing gown I'm wearing, and I let out a shaky breath as Cato rests his chin ontop of on the hand sitting on my left shoulder. "You okay?" he asks quietly.
"No," I reply. "Everything's just so horrible."
"I know baby," he answers. I'm glad he has stopped trying to sugar coat things for me, telling me everything will be okay. There is nothing okay about the fact that we're trapped in District 4 for a whole month where Finnick could very easily come with the cops and claim me as his. "I'm so sorry."
"What's there to be sorry about? It's not your fault," I say.
"Yes it is," Cato sighs. "I should have stopped the car when Clove said she saw something."
"You couldn't have known," I say. I open my eyes and a single tear drips down my cheek. I still look the same. I didn't know what I had expected. To have opened my eyes and see myself looking different? Better? Well rested? No, because that would be impossible. "I look a mess," I mutter.
"No you don't," Cato murmers. "You're beautiful."
I laugh. "Yeah, sure. I'm so beautiful right now," I say sarcastically. "Dark circles, matted hair and a giant hunk of metal I'm supposed to call a leg." I try to shift the prostetic to emphasize the point but I can't even do that.
"Yes, you are," Cato contradicts, placing a gentle kiss behind my ear. The gesture is so comforting that I don't protest. Even though he's wrong. "Dark circles"-another kiss just below my ear-"matted hair"-on my jaw-"giant hunk of metal you're supposed to call your leg"-a final kiss is pressed at the corner of my mouth before Cato tilts my head back so I can look him in the eye-"and all. You are beautiful, do you hear me?"
I nod and Cato smiles. He tips my chin up and kisses me on the lips. My body leans back into him as he traces my bottom lip with his tongue and softly nips it. A groan escapes me and Cato smirks cheekily into the kiss.
"How's the walking going?" Cato asks after pulling away and resting his head back on my shoulder.
"Not well," I murmer.
"You're going to get there," Cato says. He slips his hand past my bath robe and softly strokes the skin just above where the metal protestic starts. The action sends a shiver up my spine. "I believe in you."
"I know," I reply quietly. My arms begin to shake with the effort of keeping myself propped up for so long and I wince slightly at the ache that's beginning to settle in.
"Let me get your wheelchair," Cato whispers. He presses a kiss to my temple before fetching my chair and helping me ease down into it.
"I feel like a fucking invalid," I mutter as Cato wheels me over to my side of the bed.
"You're not an invalid," Cato scolds, lightly slapping my arm. I roll my eyes just as the door knocks. Clove said she'd wheel by later (she also has to travel by chair until her back has healed) so we can discuss what we're going to do about the whole, 'trapped in 4' situation.
As soon as he opens the door, Cato's face falls.
Finnick: Same time: Same place:
Hadley's face is priceless as he sees me on his doorstep with a bunch police officers behind me. He tries to fling the door shut again but I kick it back open, knocking him backwards and making him bang into a wall. "Better hold him back, he's going to lose his top when he finds out what I'm here for."
"Where the man you're here to claim Mr. Odair?" one of the officers ask. I scan the room for my beloved golden boy and find him sitting stock still in his wheelchair dressed in a bathrobe. I smile at him and he glares back at me in return. Ah, he hasn't changed at all.
"Claim? Oh hell no!" Cato tries to Peeta but the officers hold him back against the wall.
"Do you have proof of ownership Finnick?"
I roll my eyes. "Of course I do," I reply. As if anticipating what I'm going to do next, Peeta tries to wheel away as fast as he can. He's fast, I'll give him that, but not fast enough. I grab the chair handles and yank it backwards towards me.
"No Finnick, please don't!" Peeta cries as I pick him out of the chair. He tries to kick me with his metal leg but I quickly dodge it and throw him onto the hotel bed.
"Don't touch him you bastard!" Cato yells.
"Oh do shut up," I reply. Peeta attempts pushing himself away from me but the leg weighs him down and he cries out in frustration as the thing won't budge for him. He obviously still can't move it. I wave the officer who asked for proof of ownership over and pull Peeta up against me, holding his head against my chest to show the officer the 'F' that has scarred over on his neck.
"Surname?" the officer asks, not looking convinced. I roll my eyes and lower the blond back down onto the bed. He spits up at me and it hits my eye. Sighing, I wipe it away and untie the bathrobe. To my delight, he's in his underwear which makes everything so much easier and so much more enjoyable.
"Finnick, please don't do this," Peeta gasps as my hands run hungrily down his body to reach waist band of his underwear. Ignoring his pleas, I hook my thumbs into his underwear and pull the garment down slightly to reveal the 'O' which, like the 'F', has scarred over nicely.
"See, all mine," I say with a flourish.
"Okay Mr. Odair. Just bring the boy with you and we'll get the papers signed up," the officer says.
"Don't you dare!" Cato shouts. He knees the officer that's holding him back in the crotch and throws him to the floor before storming over to me. I duck under the first punch he throws and pull his arm up his back. I've learnt from my mistakes with this man and I've prepared for a fight with him.
"I'd also like to press charges against this man for assualt and trying to steal my property," I tell the officers. They nod and take Cato off my hands.
"I'm going to fucking kill you!" the blond yells.
"Yada, yada, yada," I reply as I grab Peeta and put him back into his chair. He tries to jump out of it as I push him towards the door and almost makes it before one of the officers grabs him around the waist and throws him over their shoulder.
"Oh my god Cato help me!" Peeta yells desperately. He knows it's futile plea but I'm sure he doesn't know what else to do.
"It's okay Peeta, everything is going to be okay," Cato replies.
"Yeah, keep telling him that Hadley," I say. Intercepting between their vision of each other, I take Peeta's face into my hands and press a firm kiss to his lips. My face dampens and my lips rid him of his tears as I kiss them all away. "Isn't it wonderful baby? You're all mine now. Come on we've got papers to sign."
The officer carrying Peeta and I leave Cato in the hotel room with the other police I brought with me. They'll must likely sling him in jail, only to be freed by bail. Peeta continues to scream the man's name long after we've left the hotel.
~xXx~
"You honestly think I'm going to sign that?" Peeta asks warily. The paper sits infront of him on the table and he clenches his fist around the pen the offciater gave him. His wheelchair is in a different room so he can't attempt to escape.
"You have no choice in the matter," I reply. "Either you do it by your own will or you do it by force."
"I'am not signing that thing by my own will," he answers defiantly, chucking the pen across the table. It comes to a stop in front of me and I sigh. Fights right to the end, that's my golden boy alright. I smile and stand up, moving around the table to stand behind him.
"You do know how to sign your name right?" I ask, enclosing my arms around him from me behind and taking his hand into mine, inserting the pen into it.
"Obviously," Peeta answers dryly, tensing up at my touch. He yelps as I grip his hand tighter and force the pen to spell out his name. And then, as if by magic, the contract reads:
Peeta Mellark.
"And you're all mine," I murmer into his ear. Peeta chokes on a sob and breaks down as he realizes the truth of it. He puts in head into his hands repeats a mantra of 'Not reals' over and over again. I can't help smiling at how sweet it is.
Because it's real.
He's all mine.
A/N: Duh, duh, duh! Sorry again for the long wait!
Next chapter is going to be sort of like the history of Finnick and Peeta's past so stay tuned. I promise it won't take as long as it did for this chapter!
Teaser:
"You know what's intrigueing about lust?" he asked. I watched him warily as he sat down across from me and took my hands into his.
"What?" I asked.
"It can overcome you anytime, anywhere and give you the oppurunity to explore the human body without trepitation," Finnick explained. I wrenched my hands away from him and he smiled. "I ordered you again because of one soul reason. No matter how you look, you always give me an instant hard on."
"Oh so romantic," I said sarcastically. I gasped as he pressed his hand against my jean clad crotch and squeezed.
"And," Finnick purred, groping my manhood mercilessly and listening to me gasp and groan. "I think I might become a regular."
Please R&R! :D