Peeta

There's a slightly dangerous, and very angry look in her eye as she marches me to the coat closet on the second floor far away from the party goers and the music.

As if she's going to ground me or put me in time out. And I think to myself, sweetheart there isn't a punishment you could devise that would be worse than what I've already done to myself.

And it's true. I stripped away every defense I had carefully built against her over the years in a matter of hours. I was completely and totally vulnerable again.

I had let myself want her desperately again, as desperately as I had ever wanted her before. And I had done it to save her, the girl who didn't want me in that way at all. The irony makes me laugh, in a humorless and self depreciating way. But I don't think she catches this. The look in her eyes as she shoves me in the closet says she thinks I'm laughing at her.

"Peeta, what the hell?" She whispers furiously at me in the dark enclosed space as she reaches up to search for the string light and turn it on in our little self contained prison.

Here she is trapped with the boy she doesn't want. And here I am trapped with the girl I want more than my next meal, more than my next breath. And neither of us can do anything about it.

And the damn lightbulb is broken or burned out. So now we have to talk and wait and be close to each other in the dark. Great.

The thought just shoves me further into that angry, resentful space in my head. The one I hated and tried to avoid but had never really been able to when I let myself feel this way about her.

"Calm down Katniss. We're supposed to be in love, anxious to get to our honeymoon. Why do you think Cinna put you in that dress if he didn't want me to try and express that?" I reply in frustration. But it's misplaced. I know that. It's not her fault in any sort of way that really matters. But there's no one else here but me and her, and all that aggravation ends up coming out in my voice.

"Oh." Is her one word reply. As if she hadn't realized even that much of the intentions that had been woven into this terribly confusing night. And I feel like a jackass.

"I just would have liked a heads up Peeta. I'm not used to those kinds of kisses." She tells me and I fight the urge bang my head against the wall. As always Katniss is clueless when it comes to sex, or attraction, or whatever you want to call it. Or at least she is when it comes to that put together with me. She just can't imagine it, that I would see her that way, that she as my publicly betrothed would be expected to see me that way too.

It's a blow to my ego, and makes me feel oh so pathetic. And here I am, climbing that same old hill.

"I thought it was implied you understood what Cinna was trying to accomplish, when you said that the dress was a distraction." I tell her in an annoyed voice that I really have no right to be using against her, but shit, this is all so awkward. Having to spell it out. Having to talk about what two normal young adults should be feeling and doing and being confronted with the fact that we have to work so hard to try and pull off what should come naturally.

"I guess I understood that part, but I didn't consider the natural extensions of that strategy." She says and I cringe inside. Sometimes she is so….virginal. So pure. It makes me feel like some kind of a pervert.

"Yeah well, I was taken a little by surprise too." I say as I run my hands anxiously through my hair in an effort to remain calm. I hate talking about this, I hate admitting how weak she makes me feel. Isn't it enough to die quietly inside, without having to confess the exact effect she's having on me?

"What time is it?" She says, thankfully changing the subject. I almost sigh out loud in relief.

"11:00. We've got 30 minute or so till we can go." I tell her after I check my watch.

"Hummm." She says in that low voice that makes me shiver despite the stuffy cramped quarters of this coat closet.

"We could talk about the food." I offer, not wanting to talk at all really. I actually just want to go home and get a start on those cold showers.

"I think we should, um practice." She says in a quiet, almost shy voice that means she's talking about kissing. And it startles me. It throws me, way, way, for a loop. I'm speechless.

"You know since we're going to be ramping things up until the wedding. That way we can get used to things, and come up with new, um rules?" She adds quickly, as if needing to explain it. And I guess she does, because I couldn't find one reason, one excuse in my brain for why she'd want to kiss me here, in the dark where even the cameras wouldn't pick up on anything.

"You want to practice kissing?" I say incredulously. And then shake my head. No way. There's no way I can survive that. Not after all the feelings that have only recently come rushing back. "Katniss, we've kissed so much I doubt there's that much we really need to go over. If it makes you uncomfortable I can tone it down." I tell her, hoping she'll drop it.

"Oh yes, that will be so believable. It's not just kissing. I mean well, that's part of it. It's also the...touching. I mean you were fantastic, believable as always, but I was so bad I almost fell over." She replies and I grit my teeth.

Son of bitch, the argument actually has some merit to it. But I don't think I can do it. Not here, not now when I feel like I have a million feelings buzzing around inside me at once. I sigh out loud instead of in my head like I mean to and I feel the atmosphere shift immediately.

"Sorry, didn't know it would feel like such a chore." Is her deeply offended reply. And now I really, really want to beat my head against the wall. She has no idea, no idea at all.

"Oh, it's not that, believe me. It's just hard for me sometimes, to keep it all straight. Especially when the cameras aren't around. We're just friends after all." I tell her, or at least try to tell her what the real problem is while trying to hold onto a tiny shred of my quickly disappearing dignity.

"Friends don't let each other make fools of themselves on national tv Peeta. We're 18 now. And I don't want to look like an inexperienced nitwit on camera." She says and I am floored. I'm glad it's dark in here or else she would have seen my completely flabbergasted reaction to this statement.

"That's funny that you think people would ever think that about you." I tell her, and it is. Its fucking hilarious that she actually believes people are judging her based on how ready and willing she looks in my arms. If anything her surprise and inexperience just makes look all the more desirable. To me, and probably to the whole damn country.

"Just show me what to do okay." She says taking an aggressively quick and close step into my personal space. And I can't help it, I take a step back in retreat. It's just natural self preservation.

But she reaches out and actually grabs the fabric of my jacket and stops me from backing away completely and it's so strange. Like it's what I want and what I don't want all at the same time. My mind can hardly make sense of it all.

But then...then I realize that she's right. And more of this kind of thing will be expected from here on out all the way until the wedding. So, maybe we need to get more comfortable with this. Maybe we do need to figure out how to draw new boundaries and traverse new territory with each other. If only I can figure out how to do it and keep from spontaneously combusting at the same time.

"Okay," I make myself say in as normal a tone as I can. But inside I am terrified. This is not the same old hill I'm climbing. This is a mountain. This is going to be a whole different battle all together. She takes another small step towards me and puts her small hands up to rest on my shoulders. I fight the urge to pull her close immediately.

"What about this?" She asks in a low voice that calls every cell inside me to immediate attention. And I realize, if we're going to sell it on camera we'll need to sell it here too, to each other first.

"That's good to start with, but putting your arms around my neck would be better or if you really want to wow them, put your hands on my chest underneath my coat." I say in a dark and secret tone, because it is a secret. It's something I've always wanted her to do. Something I've dreamed about her doing. So, maybe if she does it now, I'll be able to get my initial reaction out of the way and save only what will be needed to convince the cameras….later….

She lets her hands trail seductively (does she know how seductive it is?) down my shoulders and then she slips them under my jacket. It's like little sparks of fire are striking and catching everywhere she touches me. And surprisingly she touches a lot of things.

My pecs, my ribs, my stomach, my lower stomach…. Pretty much all my front upper half from the top of my tailored pants and up.

Shit...if I hadn't been half mad with desire for her already her tiny explorative fingers have driven me right over the edge. And I can't tell if I'm past caring about how bad it'll hurt when I finally come down, I'm so high up right now.

Then she has to go and lean into me further, and practically nuzzle her head against my neck, and she's tracing the line of my collarbone over my shirt, and using her index finger to make hypnotic designs over my heart. And it takes me impossibly higher.

"That, for instance, is fantastic." I tell her as I can't help but give into the wonderful, torturous feeling of her hands on my body. Touching me, the way I've always imagined, the way I've wanted for so long. My blood is pounding again now, and we're not even kissing. We're not even doing that much touching. But I want her so badly I can feel it everywhere.

"Any other suggestions?" She asks in a voice that if I didn't know her better, could have been mistaken for slightly intrigued, slightly….aroused? But no, no, this is Katniss. And she doesn't feel that way about me.

But I do, feel that way and more about her. So I almost can't help what happens next. I wrap her up, with my arms encircling her, and touch her like she's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Because she is. I stroke my fingers down her bare back like I had before when we were dancing. Because she needs practice, because she needs to get acquainted with the feeling. I tell myself.

But it's just a flimsy excuse. And all my feelings, all my desperate yearnings are clamoring louder and louder at the undeniability of it all. But I cling to the illusion. And she trembles underneath my hands in a way I find both endearing and intoxicating. And then, almost imperceptibly she leans into my touch. I can't help the shooting surge of desire this causes. I can feel myself starting to become more than a little aroused. But I keep going, it's been so long since I've let myself even consider that she could want me the way I want her. For a second, I just pretend that she does.

I lower my mouth to her neck. Thinking this is really where I'll shoot myself in the foot, in the heart, in the head. But the pain, the sweet fucking agony might just be worth it, to taste her bare skin, here in the dark without the cameras, just this once…

And it is…

She tastes both like heaven and damnation at the same time. Feminine and slightly sweet, with just a hint of salt from the sweat we worked up dancing tonight….it's so good….so delicious to taste her...

I kiss her skin lightly, reverently, like she is something hallowed and divine. I let my mouth worship her in the way I've always feared, always dreamed about. And she doesn't pull away...no, she just relaxes again into me after a second. It's all the encouragement I need. I start to kiss her harder, with more heat and vigor and I feel her skin warm up under my lips, I feel her pulse quicken.

And I think, yes, yes…. please feel this way about me, just this once.

I'll be able to stand it, to live with it, if I know that even a small part of you is affected in the same way you completely decimate me.

And then her hands reach out, almost of their own accord to tangle in my hair and she is impossibly, undeniably, pulling me closer.

I can't help it, I get hard right then and there. I mean, I was already more than a quarter of the way there, but in that moment, I went from kind of ready to completely ready. And it's too much, the sensation, the smell of her skin, I forget that this is practice. I completely forget everything and then I'm licking her. All along her neck, and she grabs my hair in a hard and painful gesture that I think is telling me to stop, but at this point it's like trying to put the brakes on a freight train that has lost control and sped away.

And I try to get the control back, I try to slow down, and I think I've almost got it, when she drops her mouth onto mine possessively and sends me into a fucking tailspin.

Any small measure of control I had regained disappears the instant I feel her hungry mouth on mine. And I don't know how it started, or when it started, but she is kissing me like she wants me, almost as badly as I want her. And it's like we crash against each other in the dark, hands, mouths, teeth and tongues. We're frantic, we're impossible, we're desperate.

We're incredible.

It's a high impact collision and I know I'm going to be more than a little broken when this is over but right now I couldn't care less. All I can feel is her body in the dark. All I can taste is her warm breath and hot tongue sweeping over mine. My left hand is in her long dark silky hair, and my right hand is gripping the soft flesh of her beautiful hip hard, too hard…. But I have to hold onto something, I have to put my hands in places they are allowed to go...when all I want right now is to touch her in places I know I shouldn't.

And she breaks away from me, I think to tell me to stop, or that I'm making her uncomfortable, but no. She just begins to kiss down my jaw and oh it's brutal. It's like I was doused in kerosene from the kisses that preceded this, and when her lips travel down they are like flint striking my bare skin.

And I am only too happy to burn for her.

"You are killing me right now and I love every second of it." I murmur in a totally incomprehensible garbled way as she kisses down and down until her lips meet the collar of my dress shirt. But she doesn't hear me, and she doesn't stop. She slips my jacket off my shoulders in an unconcerned manner.

As if the move wouldn't shatter me. As if I could survive it.

But I can't...I just can't. It breaks the tenuous hold I had over myself, over this situation.

There in the dark I yield to her demanding mouth. And then my body goes taut with tension when I realize that maybe I won't be able to stop. And I know I will undoubtedly have to stop, soon, very soon.

All this, it's too much. My overstimulated brain and body start to fritz out. But she can't tell because I'm paralyzed. And I can't find the words or the breath to beg her to slow down, or stop. She's still kissing me as she starts to undo my tie, and my thoughts go fully to that place I usually try to avoid with her. It's my own personal hell, where I open myself up to thinking about her naked and me naked and us together. I can't always stop the images or the desire from shooting across my mind, but usually I can push it away with enough determination. But right now I have neither the strength nor the will to reign in my wild thoughts.

And she's pushing aside my shirt, hastily, and kissing all along my feverish skin. And the feeling lodges itself squarely in my groin and even though I've got my lower half angled away from her, and she's not touching me anywhere near there, I feel her like a phantom limb. And I wonder if I am literally going to come right now, just from her mouth on my neck. I feel the place where all the tension has gathered inside me pulse in time with her kisses and I know that yes, it could really happen. If I don't stop her right now, I'm going to humiliate myself and probably end up disgusting her in the process. It takes everything, every ounce of self control I have to bring my arms up between our bodies and push her away as I try to take a step back.

"I think that's more than enough, Katniss." I tell her in a strained, painful voice when she comes up for air and sways a little unsteadily on her feet.

"I'm sorry if I didn't do it right, maybe I just need more practice-"She pants in a breathless, sexy, torturous way. But I cut in, unable to stand hearing the glaring and apparent desire and confusion there. I think she's just as confused as I am as to how this all got so off track so easily. I chalk it up to latently developed hormones on her part. What else could it be?

"Actually, I think that was too much practice." I tell her as I try to internally scream at my body to calm down. My heart is still thundering in my chest, and the fabric of my pants are stretched so tightly over my erection it's damn painful.

"What, really?" She asks incredulously, and I'm half glad, half annoyed at our pitch black conditions. If she could only see the effect she had already had on me, after only making out for a few minutes, she wouldn't be so incredulous.

"Yeah, besides it's 11:40 now. We need to head out or we'll be late." I say, striving to get a normal cadence back into my voice, instead of the strained note that has been lingering as I check the time.

That's not all that's lingering...

"Okay," She says, and if I didn't know better I'd think there was a hint of regret or disappointment in her voice. And it throws me. As if I needed to lose any more perspective or get any more confused. But then she's just grabbing my hand and leaning towards the door and I want to tell her to please wait because I've got the final word in hard-ons right now. But then I don't, I can't say it. It's too embarrassing. And she'll never look at me the same again if I say something like that out loud.

So I just let her pull me out of the coat closet and lead me away in a wild, frantic escape through the house and out the back door. And if anyone noticed the sizable tent I had going on in my pants as we fled, I didn't hear it.

But it sure as hell took a long time before the feeling even remotely started to die down as we fled into the night.