Chapter Twenty-Three: About the Birds and the Bees

"We are all a little weird and life's a little weird, and when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall in mutual weirdness and call it love." – Dr. Seuss

As soon as Peeta closes the door to the bathroom, I immediately reach for my bra and shirt and put them back on as quickly as I can. My whole body is trembling and my mind is racing in every direction. The longer he takes, the more uncertain I feel about everything that just happened between us.

I try to focus on the movie, but I can't concentrate on it. It's all background noise in comparison to my thoughts and the sound of my heartbeat pounding in my ears.

When he finally emerges, he silently makes his way around the bed and sits up against the headboard next to me. I don't look over at him, though. I can't look at him. My face is burning with the realization of what we'd done. I'm aware that what occurred between us wasn't exactly innocent, expected, or intentional. It was purely instinctual; we just wanted to make each other feel good for the moment.

I'm embarrassed and self-conscious when I think about it now, though. I was naked from the waist up in front of him. His mouth was on my breasts. He saw my scars, and even kissed them. And I made all those embarrassing noises and moved my body so intimately against his. I mean, he seemed to like it all and even returned my actions, but maybe he was only being polite? Maybe it made him feel dirty?

Maybe he thought I was dirty?

Even so, it's a bit dramatic to suddenly change your pants over something like that. And it's annoying me more and more that he's not making any effort to tell me what happened or why he acted the way he did; why he cut everything off so abruptly.

"Sorry," he quietly mumbles after a few minutes.

I purse my lips and stare down at my lap as I fidget with the edge of my t-shirt.

"For what? I still don't even know what the hell happened. You haven't told me anything," I reply defensively. "And just so you know, I took a bath earlier today."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"I'm not dirty, Peeta! Changing your pants was a bit unnecessary. I assure you, my poverty won't rub off on you and neither will anything else," I blurt indignantly. I haughtily cross my arms over my chest, annoyed and uncomfortable with him staring at me so intently. Even if I can't see him directly, I can feel his eyes burning a hole through me.

"What? That has nothing to do with…" He stops mid-sentence, and I look over at him, my eyes narrowed. He rubs the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger, and continues in a serious, pointed tone, "You know I would never think any of that."

"I don't know anything at all," I shrug. "Hell, after what just happened between us, I don't even think I know myself anymore. I mean, what the hell was that?"

I take a sudden, deep breath as he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. "It was amazing, that's what it was. Look… don't go feeling regretful for living in the moment and letting yourself feel good, okay? Maybe I'm wrong, but you seemed to really enjoy it while it was happening. I know I did. So please don't go overthinking it or second-guessing yourself."

I nod once but remain silent.

As awkward as it makes me feel when I think of the specifics of what had occurred and how intimate we had been with each other, I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy every second of it while it was happening. It made me feel alive and carefree for the first time in a while, and I don't regret it. It might have happened very unexpectedly and rather quickly, but it felt nice to feel pleasure instead of pain for a change.

"What happened, Peeta? At the end. Why did you act so weird and change your pants?" I ask before I lose my courage. "Just tell me the truth."

He clears his throat and shrugs his shoulders as if he's uncertain of how to answer or where to even start. He hesitates, but after a moment, he starts to explain, "You know how a can of soda will explode if you shake it too much?" He immediately closes his eyes and shakes his head. His face is bright red, and he looks to be thoroughly embarrassed. I still don't understand why he's acting so weird, or how any of this has to do with soft drinks though.

"Yeah, but I didn't shake anything," I answer slowly.

"You didn't physically... uh... shake anything, but you definitely shook things up, Katniss," he replies, raising his eyebrows at me as if I'm supposed to understand what he's talking about. I don't, though, and his vagueness is starting to frustrate me.

"What does that even mean?"

He chuckles as if he's both amused and uncomfortable. "I can't believe you don't know. Didn't you take Health class?"

"Yes. Of course I did. It was required." I narrow my eyes at him. "So what?"

"Don't you remember learning about the... ah… differences between men and women?" he asks unevenly. His face seems to be getting even redder as he brings a hand to the back of his neck and rubs it. "And… the act that brings them together?"

I stare at him in confusion for a moment, letting his words sink in. I notice he won't look back at me and he's avoiding making eye contact. My own eyes suddenly widen in realization and my mouth drops open in shock as I understand what he means.

"I know what sex is, Peeta!" I quickly tell him, feeling absolutely mortified as I whisper the word 'sex.' I roll my eyes and avert my gaze, my face burning. "I'm not stupid. You don't have to talk to me like I'm a child."

"I'm sorry, you're just so… pure," he says with a small, anxious laugh. I see him scratch his head and shrug from the corner of my eye. "I'm trying to think of a way to explain this without sounding like a total perv to you—"

I don't know why, but Peeta calling me 'pure' annoys me. I know what he means, and it's basically true, but it still rubs me the wrong way.

"Oh, so I'm pure?" I glare at him in defiance. "And I guess you're extremely experienced on the subject, then?"

He vigorously shakes his head, his eyes round. "No! I've never…. I mean, I know things, but I've never done them. Not with someone else… I mean…" He groans and places his hands over his face. He then peeks at me through the spaces between his fingers.

"Katniss…?"

"What?"

"Have you ever…" He drops his hands from his face, letting them fall to his lap, and looks away from me. He releases a long, ragged breath. "What do you… know… about things?"

"What things are you referring to, Peeta? You're going to have to be a bit more specific." I have a sinking feeling I know exactly what he's talking about, though.

"Sex," he blurts. And I was right.

My heart is thumping wildly against my chest, my hands are shaking, and I'm not at all sure how to answer, or if I even want to. It's really none of his business anyway.

The truth is that I don't really know much about sex or acts of intimacy aside from the basics. We learned about all of that in school, in the same year my mom had married Snow. I was absent a lot then towards the end, and I must have missed that particular lesson, or simply didn't pay attention and forgot about it. I had a lot on my mind then, I couldn't concentrate on much, and my grades definitely reflected that. Not having a television, computer, radio, or any other form of media at home since I was a kid has also kind of sheltered me from a lot of sexual pop culture that my classmates seem to be very well aware of.

Really, the only way I know about sex at all is through bits and pieces of conversation I overhear at school and the technical, yet vague diagrams in the pages of my old Health textbook.

"I know enough," I mumble awkwardly, picking at the frayed ends of a rip located on the thigh of my jeans. "I know parts go into other parts and babies are sometimes made from it. It's all pretty self-explanatory."

"Do you know what happens when a guy… finishes?" he asks hoarsely, almost whispering.

"Sleep?" I answer, shrugging. I don't really understand what he means.

Peeta laughs as if I had just told a hilarious joke. "Yeah, most of the time. But that's not what I meant—"

"Then what do you mean?"

"Katniss," Peeta snorts and shakes his head. When I look over at him again, he suddenly glances away from me. His face is redder than I ever imagined it could be. He looks like a tomato with blond hair. "I'm just going to come right out and say it…."

"Please do," I encourage, wanting this uncomfortable conversation to be over with as quickly as possible. "Do you… know what an... orgasm is?" he asks sheepishly.

I don't understand why he's so embarrassed about asking, or why he's bringing it up as it seems like it's totally off-topic compared to what we've been discussing. Not that I don't welcome the change; all this sex talk is really making me feel extremely weird.

"Of course I know what an organism is," I flippantly answer. "But what does that have to do with—"

"No Katniss," he cuts me off, chuckling nervously. "Not an organism… an orgasm. Do you know what one is?"

It sounds familiar, but only vaguely. I don't know what it means. If I did at one time, I can't remember anymore. I don't want to admit that to him, though. I'm obviously looking like a big enough idiot as it is.

"I'm not sure," I shrug. "Maybe if you show me what one is, I might remember?"

"Uh…" He arches an eyebrow, bites his lip to keep from grinning, and appears to be thoroughly amused about something. "As much as I'd… um… like to take you up on that offer, Katniss, I don't think we're quite at that point in our relationship yet. I'll, uh, definitely try my best to make sure you remember it if I ever do get a chance to show you one, though."

"Okay…?" I reply uncertainly. He smiles impishly and leans over to kiss me on the cheek. I nibble on my bottom lip as he rests his chin gently on my shoulder.

"Look, I know this is personal… and you don't have to answer, but…" he starts in a whisper. I can feel his breath and the vibration of his words on the area of my neck, right below my ear. Instantly, as always, my skin breaks out into goosebumps. I'm starting to think he's intentionally making a habit of this, and I'm not sure if I like it or not.

"But what?" I whisper back, feeling lightheaded.

Peeta hesitates beside me as he tries to find the right words to express what he's wanting to ask. Somehow I know it's probably not something I'm going to want to answer.

"Do you… have you ever…" He clears his throat and finishes in a mumbled rush, "touched yourself?"

I narrow my eyes in contemplation, trying to figure out what's so scandalous or embarrassing about that. "Uh yeah, Peeta," I answer without a second thought. "I touch myself all the time. It's impossible not to."

"I guess you have a point there." He laughs and kisses my neck before leaning back. I glance over at him, wondering how in the world we even got into a conversation about this and why he's still avoiding telling me the real reason why he changed his pants. He's staring at me with a shocked, yet amused expression. "But… seriously? All the time, though? I mean, that's incredibly hot, don't get me wrong… you just seem so—"

"What are you talking about?" I cut him off, knitting my eyebrows together in confusion. "How is touching myself… 'hot'? Look, I'm doing it right now." I bring my hand to my face and rub my cheek to make a point. "What's the big deal?"

He nods slowly and smirks. "Okay, now that makes more sense."

"Well, I'm glad something about this conversation makes sense to one of us at least," I reply a bit impatiently. "Peeta, if you have a point, please get to it?"

"I meant do you ever touch yourself… for pleasure?" He raises his eyebrows, seeming more curious than bashful now. "You know… below the waist?"

My mouth drops open in shock. I'm mortified. After a moment, I find my voice and answer him in a scandalized tone, "No… I don't! I'd never. That's… gross, Peeta! Why would you even ask me that?"

I make a face and stick my tongue out at him in disgust.

"It isn't gross, Katniss. It's perfectly natural to—" I shake my head in disagreement.

"It isn't natural to play with what you pee with."

I notice that the movie has ended, but it couldn't be further from my mind to comment about it.

Peeta is silent for a moment, and then I feel the bed start to shake. When I peer back over at him, I see that he's hiding his face behind his hands and his shoulders are heaving. Finally, the laughter he's obviously trying to hold back comes out full force.

"What is your problem?" I ask, affronted. I roll my eyes and look away, crossing my arms tightly over my chest again. He tries to stop laughing for a moment, taking deep breaths to get back to normal, but then he begins to laugh all over again. "Look, if you want to make fun of me, you can just take me home."

He shakes his head, and takes a deep breath to regain his composure. "I'm not making fun of you. Your innocence is just… very adorable—"

"And evidently very amusing, too!" I snap, feeling absolutely humiliated. "Don't talk down to me, Peeta."

"Oh, come on, don't be that way," he replies sweetly. He then sighs and places an arm around my shoulders. I attempt to shake him away from me, but he doesn't budge. Instead, he runs his fingertips down my arm and rests his chin lightly on my shoulder again. "I like the way you are, okay? I'm not talking down to you at all. I just found your comment kind of funny because…well…" His voice trails off and he simply shrugs as if it's obvious.

"Because of what?" I ask, turning to him in challenge. "Why is it so funny, Peeta?"

"Katniss, how do you think sex happens?" I remain silent and purse my lips, which are mere inches from his. His eyes twinkle mischievously as he looks up at me and continues in a playful, amused tone, "At some point you're really going to enjoy 'playing with what you pee with'."

"Oh really? Is that so?" I counter, trying my best to keep my face passive — though I'm sure he can feel my body shaking anyway. He nods slightly as his hand drops from my shoulder and slips under the back of my shirt, leaving small traces with his fingertips along the bare flesh of my lower back. It's such a simple touch, but it feels amazing. I close my eyes and bite my lip to keep any sighs or other embarrassing noises from escaping my mouth.

"Judging by the rather intense way you were humping me earlier, I'm going to have to say yes," he replies jokingly, playfully poking my side.

My eyes snap open and I look at him defiantly, my mouth gaping. "Whatever! I did not... hump you!"

"Yeah," he snorts, grinning widely at me. "Yeah, you kind of did, Katniss."

"I did not!"

"Hey, I'm not saying I didn't like it, because I did. A little too much. In fact, I got the proof all over my pants—"

"What?" I abruptly ask. "I didn't get anything on you."

"I know that. It didn't come from you. I mean, it came because of you—" He flashes a small, roguish smile and then shrugs his shoulders. "Anyway, let's just say that the thing I pee with got a little too fond of yours rubbing up against it…." I arch an eyebrow at him in question and then look off to the side, away from him, trying not to show how strange this whole conversation is making me feel. He leans back and runs a hand through his hair. "Look, I know you're confused and I don't want you feeling pressured or anything, but I'll tell you exactly what happened if you promise not to laugh or break up with me?"

"Okay," I quietly answer, but I'm not promising anything.

He rubs his eyes and takes a deep breath as if daring himself to continue.

"You see… uh… when a guy finds a girl attractive, he'll sometimes get aroused, and as a result, ah… a certain important part of his anatomy… gets very hard and uncomfortable in his pants. And if certain things happen, like what occurred between us earlier—and you know what I'm talking about—" He glances over at me meaningfully and then averts his eyes downward. I'm a bit speechless at his bluntness. All I can do is nod slowly as he twists his hands anxiously in his lap. "Things build up, there's a certain pressure, a need for relief, and things just... explode. Sometimes very unexpectedly, I might add."

My eyes widen at this less than appealing mental image.

"Well…" I gulp, feeling dazed by this new information. "Good for you?"

"Yeah, it was," he jokes, wiggling his eyebrows.

I roll my eyes and smile as I avert my gaze.

I don't know what to say in return, or even how to react to his behavior. I have no idea what to think about what he had just told me. I knew things were kind of getting intense between us rather quickly, but I had no idea he had been affected like that. I'm not sure I'm ready for all of this, for things to go this far so soon.

"Peeta…"

"Yeah?"

"The movie's over. We should probably go pick Prim up now."

He frowns as if he's disappointed and glances down at his watch. "Yeah, okay."

I nod and quickly stand up. He starts to get up too, then stops and turns toward me. And as confident as he seemed mere moments ago, he now seems equally as vulnerable and uncertain.

"Katniss… look, I'm really sorry..."

"For what?"

"For… you know," he shrugs timidly. "I never meant for any of this to happen. I only wanted to have a nice dinner and watch a movie with you. I didn't mean to make things weird or uncomfortable. And I hope this doesn't make you think I'm—"

"You know what I think of you right now, Peeta?" I ask, cutting him off. I actually don't really know what I think about him right now. But I do know that it bothers me to see him think that he ruined what was probably one of the best nights of my life.

"Do I want to know?" He slowly raises his eyes to meet mine.

I sigh heavily and make my way over to sit next to him on the bed, letting my instinct and daring take over. Without a word said between us, I take his hands in mine and squeeze them reassuringly. He looks curiously at me and I notice a slight trace of a smile curve his lips.

He starts to ask me a question, but I don't feel like talking anymore. I don't feel like thinking. I don't want to hear his truths and his feelings or his memories; I just want to feel them. And I want to live in the present, with the hope that Peeta seems to give me. I know this will eventually be a memory, like everything else, and I want it to be remembered as wonderful.

So I lean up and kiss him slowly and meaningfully, eventually bringing my hands up to rest on his warm cheeks. When we lean back and look at each other again, he has a lopsided smile on his face as if he's astonished by my actions.

"I guess this means there will be a second date?"

I nod silently, smiling a bit dazedly as I stare into his hopeful blue eyes. He places his hands gently on top of mine, which are still on his cheeks, and eventually brings them both to his mouth to plant multiple, small kisses on them.

"So what do you think of me, Katniss?" Peeta asks rather shyly after a moment. "I mean, it's pretty obvious what I think about you…."

I bite my bottom lip and answer as honestly as I can.

"I think you're too good to be true," I whisper. "And I'm afraid of being right."