Finally! I cannot tell you how excited I am to finally have another update or you. Thanks so much for your patience. This story received a lot of new followers and reviewers after the last chapter so I just want to say thank you so much and welcome! And, as always, thanks to everybody who has been following and reviewing all along. You guys are all awesome. Sharing this story makes me so happy and your support and encouragement are bright spots in my stressful life :)

FYI- this chapter is a lot of fluff without much substance… Hope you don't mind. We will get back into the meat of the story in the next chapter. Also FYI- to all you Hutcherwives out there, I put in a little reference for you at the end ;)

I don't own the Hunger Games or any of the characters.

When You Were Young- Chapter 14 "Touch Me 'Til I Follow in Love"

I wake slowly, my sleep muddled mind gradually becoming aware of a familiar scratching noise that I can't quite place. I crack my eyes open, peeking out to try to identify the source of the sound, but a light has been turned on somewhere in the room so I immediately squeeze my eyes shut again.

"Sorry. Did I wake you?" I here Peeta say softly from somewhere nearby.

I can't help the smile that spreads across my face at the sound of his voice as it brings to mind the events of the night. Keeping my eyes closed against the light I turn my face in the direction of his voice letting him see my grin as I stretch, feeling utterly content, like a cat in the sun. I should be ashamed of how much I enjoy the delicious soreness in the muscles of my thighs and between my legs.

I hear the clicking of the lamp switch and feel the bed shift and suddenly, the sheet covering me is lifted and Peeta's naked body is stretched along the length of mine. Cracking my lids again I find that the lamp is still on, but dimmed considerably so that I can comfortably keep my eyes open now. Peeta wraps his right arm over me and pulls me against him so tightly that it almost hurts. I'm not complaining.

He buries his face in my hair inhaling deeply before moving his face to my neck, letting his lips rest against my skin as he mumbles, "Are you okay?"

I crane my head back and he lifts his to answer my silent plea for a kiss. When we pause for breath I whisper, "I'm amazing…"

"Yes, you are," he responds firmly before capturing my mouth again.

I enjoy his kiss for as long as I can- feeling the silk of his tongue slide against mine, the gentle suction of his lips- before my neck begins to protest against the odd angle of straining backwards toward him. When I pull away and lay my head back down, his left arm is there to act as my pillow and he pulls me against him again, resting his right arm snuggly under my breast.

"What time is it?" I ask after a few quiet moments of lying still, listening to our breathing.

"Almost five," he says, muttering into my neck again.

"Why are you up so early?"

He chuckles softly and simply says, "Baker."

"What time do you have to open the bakery?" I ask, knowing that he will be manning the bakery himself this morning since his parents are out of town.

"We don't open till eight on Saturdays, so I don't need to get down there till six. My dad made sure everything was prepped for me when he closed yesterday before they left."

We lay quietly for a while before I break the silence again. "What were you doing earlier?"

"Drawing," he says simply.

"What were you drawing?" I ask, pretty sure I already know the answer.

"You."

"Can I see?"

He leans away from me and I role over so that I am on my back while he reaches to grab the sketch pad I was looking at earlier. He shuffles to one of the back pages and then turns it toward me. I'm not sure why, but I am slightly surprised by this picture. I guess it is partly because I wasn't expecting something so innocent considering what we were doing a few hours ago. But also, I think I am surprised at getting a glimpse of myself through his eyes. I take the sketch pad from him so that I can examine the unfinished drawing more closely. He was clearly drawing me sleeping as he observed me just a few moments ago, but I somehow doubt that I actually look like he has shown me in this picture. My hair is a wild tangle around my face and I am naked except for the sheet that is wrapping me modestly. But the way he has depicted my face is what I am skeptical about. I look so peaceful and innocent, no trace of my trademark scowl in sight. Granted, Peeta probably sees that scowl much less frequently than anybody else. Still, I feel like he has made me more beautiful than I actually am… and this kind of bothers me.

He must see consternation written on my face because he touches that pad to turn it enough that he can see it again and says, "What? What's the matter?"

It takes me a little while to answer as I try to decide how to say it without sounding childish, or like I am criticizing his work. "It's just… Why do you always draw me so much prettier than I actually am?" His only response is a baffled stare. "I mean, they're beautiful- amazing actually- but… if you're not drawing me how I really look, it's like you might as well be drawing some other girl."

Peeta just stares at me for a while before he shakes his head and looks away, muttering. I can't hear what he says, but he seems totally bewildered by my words. I am beginning to regret saying anything, humiliation rising up from the pit of my stomach. In an effort to escape I mutter something about needing the restroom and start to shift away from him, but before I can move two inches he has laid his arm across my torso to halt me.

"Katniss, listen to me," he says in a tone that brooks no argument. "I don't know why you have such a negative image of yourself, but the thought of drawing you any way other than as really are has never even crossed my mind. I mean, yeah I've sketched out a few of my fantasies, but I have never tried to make you prettier. I don't even think that would be possible." He touches my chin to turn my face toward him and the look of vulnerability and sincerity I see in his eyes causes that pleasant swooping sensation in my belly that I have become so familiar with these past two months. "I don't know what you see when you look in the mirror," he continues, "but based on what I see when I look at you, I don't think any of my drawings even begin to do you justice."

I don't even try to respond with words- they never seem to work for me the way they do for him, anyway. I am much better at expressing myself through actions, so I prop myself up on my right elbow and bury my left hand in his hair as I pull him down for a kiss. He barely has a moment to register what is happening before I sink my tongue into his mouth and, using his surprise to my advantage, push him onto his back without ever breaking the kiss. It only takes him a moment to get with the program, and in seconds he is running his hands along my back and waist, pushing the tangled sheet away so from us. Once we are free of it I break away from him just long enough to rise up on my knees and straddle him across his torso. He groans loudly as I sink down again, and I know that it is because he can feel how wet I am against his abdominal muscles.

I gyrate my hips against him and grin wickedly when I am rewarded with another groan. "God, fuck, Katniss," he pants, squeezing his eyes shut and pushing his head back into the mattress as though in pain.

I lean forward, letting my hair fall in a curtain around us and place my hands on either side of his face as I kiss him again, more gently this time. After a few moments I pull away and rest my forehead against his as we take a moment to catch our breath. I feel his hands slowly tracing up my thighs, gooseflesh springing up on my skin in their wake, and I can't stop the moan that erupts from my throat as I feel them sneak around my waist to flex into the muscles of my ass.

Rising up to look at him I grin and say, "You are definitely an ass man aren't you, Mellark?"

He huffs out a brief laugh and answers, "It's not my fault. Your ass is perfect… and you torture me with those tight jeans you are always parading around in." Before I even have a chance to respond he has used his grip on me to hold me in place as he rolls us over so that he is on top. "I really wish I could be inside you again right now," he whispers into the skin of my shoulder as he drags his lips along my collar bone.

"Isn't that what we are doing here?" I ask in confusion, laughing slightly.

"Katniss," he implores sighing loudly, "there is no way that is what we are doing here. I hated hurting you the first time but I could kind of accept it because I knew there wasn't any way around it. But there is no way I'm doing that again until I am sure it won't hurt you."

"Peeta, I'm fine," I say emphatically, unreasonably disappointed. "And you didn't hurt me. It was just a little uncomfortable at first…"

He glances away and mutters somewhat petulantly, "Well, 'uncomfortable' is not okay with me. We have plenty of time, Katniss. I can wait."

I scoff, unable to contain my rising annoyance. "What if I can't wait?"

The corners of his mouth tip up slightly and he looks like he is trying to stifle laughter, "Poor, Katniss… Let me see… what can I do to help you out here?" I roll my eyes and make a half-hearted attempt to push at his chest, irritated that he is making fun of my frustration, but of course I can't move him. He laughs softly and says, "I'm sorry, but you have to understand what this moment is like for me… I've just had sex with the girl I've been obsessed with basically forever, and now she wants to do it again enough that she is actually kind of pissed when I say no… This is a pretty big moment for me."

I want to hold on to my irritation, but his sexy, lopsided grin is irresistible. I am trying hard to keep my scowl in place as I say, "Well, have it your way then. It's a lot harder for you to stop than it is for me."

"Who said anything about stopping?" he asks, his smile slipping slightly. "We've been doing just fine for the last two months…"

I snort, loving the flirtatious banter. "So you are going to tell me no, and then expect me to get you off?" I ask, smiling triumphantly.

"No, actually. I was hoping you would let me get you off," he responds immediately, looking much more serious and holding my gaze intently.

The smile slips off my face as his meaning registers. I'm not sure how I feel about this suggestion. On one hand, I am still really hesitant for this, still afraid of the intimacy of it. But on the other, I have to admit that remembering Peeta's drawing of him with his head between my legs really excites me. And when I think of the way he licked and sucked on the pearl charm on my necklace earlier… Yeah, that definitely heightens the ache down below.

But what really decides me is the look in Peeta's eyes. He looks excited and vulnerable all at once, like a little boy asking for a new toy. When it comes down to it, I just don't want to tell him no. I don't know why he wants to do this so badly, but if it will make him happy, I'll allow it.

"Okay," I whisper so softly, glancing away shyly.

"Okay?" he seeks confirmation, sounding surprised.

Laughing, I look back at him and say, "Okay. If it will make you that happy… I'll let you."

His sexy grin is back in place, "Are you sure? Because if you are really uncomfortable-"

I silence him with my lips because I don't want an out… I don't want a chance to chicken out of this. He groans a little and responds to my kiss with gusto, sweeping his tongue inside my mouth. He is holding his weight off of me by leaning on his left elbow, but his right hand is free to coast along my side and up to my breast. He kneads it softly for a moment before pulling away from my mouth to refocus his attention on my breast. I gasp and arch my back involuntarily, my hips gyrating wildly. I press upward so that my center makes contact with his leg, which is braced on the bed between both of mine. The pressure offers some relief so I do it again, harder this time, a soft moan escaping my lips.

Peeta gasps as he jerks away from my breast, the action causing an embarrassing popping noise as my nipple slips past his lips. "Fuck, you're going to kill me, Katniss," he groans, taking my lips in another hard kiss as I continue to rub myself against his leg.

I am so turned on that, by the time he starts to slide down the bed, I can feel nothing except relief at the prospect of him directing his efforts on the place that I need him most. He kisses his way down my body way too slowly for the state that I am in, pausing at my breasts for a moment and then again at my belly button. By the time his face is hovering between my legs I am gasping, desperate for whatever he is willing to give me.

I have my head turned to the side, my eyes squeezed shut when I feel his first tentative lick through my wet folds. At first he is concentrating his attention downward- more toward my entrance- and I am just starting to think that feels pretty nice, when moves upward and flicks against my clit.

Holy shit! My head slams back into the mattress and my hips buck up pushing myself into Peeta's face. I am vaguely aware of him muttering something I can't comprehend as he rests one arm across my abdomen to hold me in place before he goes back for more. I am lost to all coherent thought as I feel him working on me again, alternating between a fast flicking motion and soft suction. It takes a great deal of effort, but I raise my head to look at him, unable to resist the urge to watch him pleasuring me the same way he does when I am getting him off.

God, it is so fucking hot… He is using his left arm wrapped around my right leg and across my pelvis to hold my hips still. His left hand is stretched downward, two fingers spreading me right where his mouth is latched on. I don't have the strength to hold my head up for long, but I bring my hands down to bury them into his hair, somehow needing to feel even more connected with him despite the fact that he is doing the most intimate thing I have ever had done to me. He hums in approval at my action and I think I might just die from how good it feels.

I gasp loudly and then can't seem to stop, my erratic breathing broken by moans and pants. When I feel him slip two fingers inside me and increase the sucking pressure on my clit at the same time, I can't even begin to repress my loud reaction. "Peeta! Oh… oh… fuck, Peeta!" And then I am coming, every muscle in my body seizing in delicious pleasure, an abundance of moisture soaking Peeta's hand where he still has his fingers buried inside me. As the intensity of my orgasm begins to subside, I become aware of the fact that Peeta is still gently licking at my center coaxing a few final tremors from me, and that my hands are clenched tightly in his hair, pulling in a way that must hurt him at least a little.

"Oh my god…" I rasp, slowly stretching my fingers to release their grip on his hair. He raises his head enough to look at me, showing me his satisfied grin. I hold his gaze and sift my fingers through his soft curls lovingly, attempting to soothe his scalp where I pulled his hair.

After a moment he levers himself upward, hovering near my face but hesitating to kiss me. A shiver of excitement courses through me when I can see that his lips and chin are wet from my arousal. I reach up to the side of his face to guide it down to mine for a kiss, and it takes him a moment to respond, clearly caught off guard by my willingness to kiss him. It is a very odd sensation, tasting myself on his lips and tongue, but it is not unpleasant. Somehow it just seems like a natural extension of the act we have just shared.

Peeta breaks the kiss before I would like, but I understand when he chuckles softly and brings his hand up to massage his square jaw. I blush and erupt into a fit of giggles. After a moment he flops down on his back on the bed and I roll to face him.

"You can do that again anytime," I say, planting a soft kiss on his right pectoral muscle. "I mean, once your jaw recovers."

"It's alright- my jaw can handle it," he laughs, pushing himself to a sitting position with great effort. "Come on," he says standing up and reaching a hand toward me. "Let's go take a shower. We have a bakery to open."

I groan inwardly, wanting nothing more than to curl up and fall back asleep. But when I look back up at him I see his erection, unashamedly on display. This, more than anything, convinces me to rise. He still hasn't gotten off yet… I need to remedy that.

Thanks again! I hope you all enjoyed it. Don't forget to let me know what you think. Since my updating has become erratic you can follow me on tumblr (plumgal1899). I try to keep my followers abreast of my progress and sometimes post little teasers over there. Sorry for errors/typos (I didn't proof read this as thoroughly as I usually do because I was just so thrilled to have something to post).

(Did you all get the JHutch reference w/the jaw thing? I don't really picture him as Peeta in my writing, but I couldn't resist after seeing that SNL promo!)