Chapter 21: Week 13
Okay, so just because she'd made the decision to make a move on Peeta didn't mean she actually know how to make a move on Peeta.
Two different things.
Totally different.
She sat on the porch before work that morning, blowing on her coffee as she spaced out. It was early enough to not be disgustingly hot, and she enjoyed drinking her coffee with the sounds of the birds chirping. June had crept by with its obnoxious heat and humidity, ushering in it's even hotter calendar neighbor, July. She supposed she wouldn't have minded so much if she had more than a box fan and a window AC unit, but such was life. She had bigger issues to figure out that morning anyway.
Like how Peeta was steadily approaching his fifty pound weight loss mark. After his slip after the wedding, he had rededicated himself to his goal and then some. He'd bought a new house several weeks before, so she knew that was keeping him extra active as well as he explained he was doing a lot of home improvements himself. Fifty pounds was huge loss, and she knew as his trainer and sort of friend she needed to do something to mark the occasion. What, she had no clue. Peeta was her first one-on-one client, so she wasn't sure what (if anything) was appropriate to do when he met his goal. Of course most trainers probably didn't picture their clients in a state of undress with a thin sheen of sweat, but….
She'd been mildly attracted to Peeta since the day he'd walked into Panem Fitness.
Now?
Now it was just embarrassing.
As the weight had come off, pound by pound, a new Peeta had emerged. He stood up straighter, he was toned, and his once boyish face had started to morph into a sculpted work of art. That jawline…
Katniss took a long sip of coffee and tried to calm down. She had a session with Peeta that afternoon and she needed to control herself if she was going to be able to keep it together enough to get through it.
She'd been trying and failing to flirt with Peeta for weeks, but she'd finally relented to the idea that she was terrible at it (something Gale had suggested for years, yet had fallen on deaf ears) and couldn't get past that barrier that Peeta had seemed to put up – the idea that she would shoot him down. Sometimes she could almost see him try to flirt back; a gleam in his eye and that little crooked smile she liked would show up, but the light would fade with each passing second. It was the most frustrating dance she'd ever been a part of.
A banging noise behind her made her nearly spill her coffee. Turning in her lawn chair, she could hear the steps leading up to Effie's upstairs apartment move and creak until they revealed a disheveled looking Haymitch. His bleary eyes met hers as he hit the bottom step and they both froze.
His mouth opened to speak, but no sound came out. Katniss sipped her coffee and tried not to look too amused, but it was difficult.
"Good morning," she said with a smirk.
Haymitch's eyebrows furrowed as he made it to the bottom step. "I was erm, fixing a pipe."
"Uh huh. Effie doesn't own tools, what were you fixing it with? A nail file?" Katniss snorted.
Haymitch gave her a halfhearted growl as he stomped off the porch and around to the side door leading to his basement apartment.
Katniss chuckled to herself. "Good for you, Effie."
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Peeta caught the medicine ball and tried unsuccessfully to bite back a grunt. He could feel the sweat dripping down his back and hoped his new fancy workout shirt would fare better than his old cotton t-shirts. When he'd hit forty pounds down, he'd treated himself to several upscale workout items to reward himself for sticking with this so long. It wasn't much, but buying new clothes a few sizes down had felt surprisingly good.
He heaved the ball back to Katniss and went down for his crunches.
"Last meal?" he grunted out, sitting back up.
She snorted. "That's easy. I'd bathe in pasta."
He caught the ball again. This was one of his most hated exercises, so they'd started playing twenty questions as they worked. It helped pass the time and he felt like it was a good way to get to know Katniss better. The small peeks it allowed into her world made him actually want to do this.
"What about you? Last meal?"
"I love all food too much to really pick," he laughed. "But no matter what I ate, I'd end the day with my chocolate cake."
"Your own cake?"
"I bake a good cake," he shrugged. "I can't brag about much, but I am just pompous enough to brag about my own cake."
"You're a baker," she laughed, "it's allowed."
"Fair enough."
"So you really can't pick what it would be? Come on…"
"It would probably be some type of pasta. Or some type of potato dish with bacon and cheese. Or pizza. Oooh! Barbeque."
She raised an eyebrow at him. "You're making me hungry."
"Do you understand why I got into trouble with food?" he chuckled. "I love to eat. It's a family gift I suppose. We're all…well fed."
Katniss rolled her eyes. "Fine, fine….Dream job?" she asked.
He shrugged and tossed the ball back. "I've always wanted to bake, so….I'm doin' it. I guess I didn't aspire to much, did I?"
"Don't say that," she held the ball firmly, watching him closely. "You're doing what you want to do! And…besides, I like that you work in a bakery and not some yuppie office job."
"Don't hate on the office guys now," he chuckled.
Katniss rolled her eyes in the sassy way he'd come to love. For as serious and slightly grumpy as she could sometimes be, she didn't mind having her ideas and beliefs challenged. It was one of the things he enjoyed about her because it made her so interesting to talk to.
"I'm not I just…" she paused, tossing the ball back to him, "I like that you're not like everyone else."
Peeta caught the ball, barely noticing the weight of it as it thumped into his hands. Katniss held his gaze and was quiet after that.
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Peeta returned home that evening without really knowing how to feel. Katniss's comment kept ringing in his ears, playing on a never-ending loop.
"I like that you're not like everyone else."
The sentiment was a surprise. They'd been talking and joking as usual, the conversation flowing into a game of twenty questions as she put him through his regimen. He'd found out a slew of information about her – that her birthday was coming up in a few days, what her favorite color was, and even what kind of tea she preferred. And then…then she'd dropped that.
His stomach gurgled angrily over Katniss's voice in his head. Shuffling around boxes and piles of packing materials, he made his way to the kitchen to see if he could whip something up that wouldn't spoil his diet but would fuel his evening - He'd need to spend at least a solid three hours that night finishing his unpacking. He'd bought a house two weeks ago to the day and he'd been so busy with updates and repairs he'd only just brought the majority of his things over. After ripping out all of the carpets, he'd been relieved to find the hard wood floors in good enough shape to warrant saving, and his brothers had helped him rent a sander and re-finish them. He'd opted for clean-looking neutral paint to cover up some of the bolder colored rooms (Who painted a bedroom salmon?) and the freshly refinished floors now gleamed. The smell of fresh paint and hardwood was harsh, but somehow felt promising to him.
The house wasn't much, but it would be easy to pay for and keep clean, and it was enough to keep him active. It was a one story post World War II home that had only seen a few updates since it had been built. It had two bedrooms and an attic that he hoped to remodel into a master suite one day, a yard big enough for a garden, and the kitchen was big enough to bake in – he was officially satisfied.
Taking his water and turkey wrap outside, he plopped into one of the chairs situated on the back patio. Well, it was really just a slab of cracked cement overlooking the sloping backyard, but he figured it had potential. He glanced at the empty chair beside him. He'd bought two lounge chairs the previous weekend and wasn't sure why – it was usually just him sitting out there.
His mouth twitched as he took a sip of his water. He knew why he'd bought two chairs he thought, rolling his eyes at himself.
After spending a few hours unpacking and decluttering, he retired to the basement where he kept the weights and weight bench he'd purchased from VarageSale. He didn't really know what he was doing when he used them – he only tried to remember what Katniss had taught him and what he'd sneakily watched Gale and Finnick do when they lifted weights and he pretended not to watch. The muscles in his arms burned as he worked, but he wasn't even paying attention to that. He was almost at his fifty pound goal, but instead of being elated he felt stuck. Stuck with what to do about Katniss. Stuck in his head about why she would even give him a shot.
As he worked, he pictured her face as she spoke; the way her grey eyes would glint when she was being sarcastic, or the way she would gut laugh when he said something she found truly funny. For someone who appeared so serious, he realized she had a dark sense of humor and was extremely witty. So witty that most of her jokes and jabs went over the heads of most. Like Delly, but more subtle. He wondered if she and Delly would get along.
Sitting up from the bench, he wiped his brow and tried to get this thoughts together. He'd done something about being the fat guy, and now he wanted to do something about being a lonely virgin. He felt stupid buying a house and two chairs and wondering if she'd like to help him plant a garden in the back. He was done wondering – he wanted to know.
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By the time their next session rolled around, Peeta was down fifty two pounds.
Katniss hugged him in the middle of the gym before she caught herself.
"Oh! I'm sorry, I'm just….that's just wow, Peeta! Congratulations!"
He almost tripped on his way off the scale, but he was grinning anyway.
"Yeah yeah, I'm hot and skinny now, don't make it weird."
She laughed and glanced at the pink cardboard box that was looking very out of place next to his gym bag.
"What's that?"
Peeta blinked owlishly before jumping into action.
"Oh! I erm…I wanted to break in my new kitchen last night, so I uh…baked you s-something," he turned to pick up the box, and she snuck a look at his ass. It was shaping up nicely, she realized with a guilty grin.
"Really?" she asked in awe, watching as he turned the pink pastry box around in front of him. He looked around the gym guiltily, but grinned anyway.
Opening it, he revealed two of the fanciest looking pastries she'd ever seen. It looked as if Peeta had created a giant macaroon with several fresh looking raspberries holding the two pieces apart enough for the white, fluffy filling peeking out behind them. Even the top of the macaroon was decorated with a dollop of frosting shaped like a flower, and he had managed to match the macaroon to the almost the exact same color as the fresh berry. Delectable and delicate, it was almost tragic to think of eating it. The scent of berries and sugar hit her nose and made her practically salivate. It was so flawlessly done it almost didn't look real.
"You…you made this? For me?"
He nodded. "And one for Prim. I….thought she might like something sweet."
Her jaw dropped open and she stared at him. She'd never wanted to shove her tongue in someone's mouth so badly. He'd made her something beautiful and was considerate enough to make one for her sister. "That is….so unreasonably sweet of you, oh my gosh…." She took another long whiff of the delectable treats before closing the box. On top was a little card with her name scrawled in surprisingly good penmanship.
"What's this?"
He looked almost guilty for a moment before looking away and casually scratching his head.
"Oh! I almost forgot! That's for that shop you were talking about, the bookstore that sells our pastries on Sundays? Well, I was there the other day and I saw that they carry mint tea, so maybe…"
"Peeta," she stopped him, sensing he was feeling awkward for doing this. "You remembered me talking about mint tea?"
He shrugged and couldn't meet her eyes. "It's just….something for your birthday. And to say thank you for whipping me into shape."
She held the box and card in her hand as Peeta started gathering up his gym bag. This was her chance – he'd done something so totally not necessary but somehow entirely sweet and he'd remembered words she'd said and this was it and if she didn't-
"We're all going out to O'Flaherty's this weekend. Come," she pleaded. "For my birthday. Gale will be there, and some other people to celebrate. Please come."
Peeta gawked at her, then blinked, glancing around the gym. It wasn't terribly crowded that day, but there were enough people around that he felt...like he was doing something he shouldn't.
"I won't…that…you won't get in trouble, will you?"
She paused, unsure of what his question meant. On one hand, if she was asking him to join them as a friend, it didn't feel like she was bending any rules about fraternizing with a gym member. On the other, if she was asking him to join her as a romantic interest, that was…something different.
"I guess I don't really care," she admitted finally, shrugging. "I want you there, so I invited you. Don't sweat it, Mellark."
The smile she gave him could be construed as flirtatious (why couldn't he get a fucking clue?) as she picked up her towel and the pink box. Peeta watched as she held out her hand and nodded her head towards his groin.
"Well?"
He panicked for a split second as he looked himself up and down – what was she getting at?
"Phone, Peeta. I'll need it to text you the details for Saturday."
Oh.
He jumped into action and practically shoved his phone into her hands so that she could type her number in. After a few agonizing seconds she handed it back to him and gave him another smile. "See you then."
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Peeta floated through the rest of the week in a daze, every thought in his mind centered around the approaching Saturday and what it meant. She had invited him out with her friends to celebrate her birthday. He was still trying to figure out the meaning behind it – was the invitation friendly, or….friendly? He couldn't seem to figure it out and his anxiety over it only heightened as the week went on. By Friday, he was about as useless as could be at work, having forgotten to add yeast to the mixer that morning and suddenly being absolute shit a piping flowers onto cakes. He'd left work and found himself at the gym for lack of anything else to do. It felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest and his stomach was ready to fall out of his butt. Rolling his eyes at his own ridiculousness, he made his way over to the weights and started working.
He'd never had issues talking to girls – growing up, he'd inherited enough of his father's charm and was confident enough at talking to the opposite sex. However, once he formed crushes on said girls, all that charm and personality usually went out the window and he became a bumbling idiot who was usually friend-zoned so fast his head would spin.
Sizing himself up in the mirror, he tried to remind himself that he was not the same fat kid from his youth. He'd lost 52 pounds so far and was well on his way to dropping even more. He hoped.
He exhaled sharply, dropping the weights to the mat. 52 pounds was a lot, but he still had insecurities. His back was still lacking definition and no matter how many crunches or situps he did at night before bed he still had a pooch of flab that seemed determined to hang on. He'd been feeling confident with himself until he accidently caught a glimpse of his backside while getting ready for a shower the other day, so he knew he had work to do yet.
One thing at a time, he reminded himself.
He knew he wanted to lose more weight and focus on toning – if and that was a big if – he ever got anywhere with Katniss, he wanted his body to make up for what he surely lacked in experience in the bedroom. A distant memory of summers spent at 'exercise' camps came to mind – he'd fooled around with more than one willing girl a camp, but it had never gone further than a few fumbles behind the bunks. The memory made him laugh –going to the fat camp hadn't always been terrible, as most of the focus was around contraband snacking and hooking up with girls. He'd originally been shocked at how forward everyone was, but the more he'd thought about it the more sense it made – having spent all school year being singled out and bullied for their weight, it was freeing to be in a place where everyone was overweight. Freeing and arousing, he remembered with a smirk. Something about being practically unsupervised in the wilderness and raging with hormones meant he'd been popular those summers.
As he was leaving the gym, he ran into Gale who gave him another friendly thump on the back.
"Sup, Mellark?"
Peeta fumbled for a moment, still always caught off guard when Gale approached him. Something about the tall, self-assured man in front of him had a tendency to make him nervous.
"Nothing, just…getting a workout in."
Gale hiked his bag over his shoulder and nodded. "Finn and I are heading out for a beer, you wanna join?"
Peeta paused, his eyes wide with surprise. "Uh, sure. It has to be light beer, but…s-sure."
Gale laughed and bobbed his head. "It's all good."
Peeta cringed at himself as he made his way to his car. "It has to be light beer!" he mocked himself under his breath. It was no mystery to him why he was destined to be a geek his entire life.
Twenty minutes later, Peeta found himself at a table in the bar down the street, sipping a Michelob Ultra with Gale and Finnick as they griped about work. Finnick glanced at Peeta, then back to Gale with a worried look.
"He's cool man, he's not going to run to Crane and tell him we were ragging on Panem."
Finnick nodded, sipping his drink. "I like my job, but Crane's grade A jackass, you know?"
Peeta chuckled. "I've met the guy and don't disagree with you."
The three of them laughed and the conversation flowed easily until Finnick asked about Johanna. Gale rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out like he was panting and Finnick shuddered.
"I don't get that girl, man! She's so…."
Gale gazed into the distance, his eyes suddenly dreamy. "Sexy? Uninhibited? Wild? Fuck, take your pick."
Finnick grimaced. "I was going to say bat shit crazy, but whatever man."
Peeta laughed and sipped his beer. He didn't disagree with Finnick, but he didn't want to offend Gale when he looked to Peeta for his thoughts.
"I uh…" he coughed awkwardly, "I dig the purple hair. And she really seems to uhm…push…people."
Both of his companions burst out laughing and Peeta had to resist the urge to jump.
"She's nuts dude, I know it," Gale guffawed. "But half of her appeal is the fact that she's a crazy bitch."
The topic soon drifted to Finnick and Annie, and Peeta noticed how quickly Finnick's confidence seemed to stumble when her name was brought up.
Finnick took a long drink and looked pensive. "She's a good girl, I just…can't seem to get a read on her."
Gale snorted and looked at Peeta. "That's Finnick talk for 'She sees through my bullshit because she's not a bimbo like I usually go out with'," he laughed.
"Shut it, man. She….well, shit, yeah…she isn't what I typically go for."
"Finnick usually dates chicks who look like they should be standing next to a sports car at an auto show," Gale rolled his eyes.
"You've dated some prizes, Hawthorne," Finnick grumbled. "What about you? What's your type?"
Peeta took a long sip of his beer, avoiding Gale's gaze as he took his time swallowing. "I uh….don't…date a whole lot."
Finnick nodded good naturedly, not grasping his point. "Gloss, you know? Up at Panem? He's like that. He doesn't really…date. He just hooks up. Is he your type?"
Peeta sputtered on his drink and shook his head as Gale snickered. "No, no…I l-like girls, I just….being kinda a chub isn't…it isn't easy to get girls into you, is all."
After his second beer, he found himself rather loose lipped and sharing with Gale and Finnick about being overweight and getting shot down by Glimmer and how it drove him to work out and want to change. When he finished, Gale leaned back in his chair with a thoughtful look.
"I didn't know about this Glimmer girl. Are you still hung up on her?"
Peeta watched Gale from across the table, his heart picking up the pace in his chest. Gale was clearly looking out for Katniss, and Peeta knew he had to be careful.
Finnick reached over and smacked Gale's shoulder. "What's it matter? She sounds like a babe, man. So what happened with her?"
Peeta shook his head. "No, I learned my lesson there. After that, she just….slowly lost her appeal. I don't…yeah, that infatuation is gone. Long, long gone," he stammered, meeting Gale's eyes from across the table.
Gale gave him a nod, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed. He seemed to mull Peeta's words for a moment before bobbing his head again and putting all four chair legs back on the sticky bar floor.
"But you're not a 'chub' anymore, are you?" he asked, making air quotes. "Although I think you need to consider that not all girls would care what you look like as long as you didn't treat them like garbage," he said, giving Peeta a pointed look.
Peeta swallowed dryly. "I would never…"
"Good." Gale nodded with finality. Finnick's eyes darted between them, clearly confused at their unspoken conversation.
"Did I miss something?"
Shaking his head, Gale downed the rest of his beer in one long drag. "Nope. We're all good here. Right?"
"Right," Peeta agreed.
What the hell just happened?
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The box fan whirred across the room, trying its best to push cooler air towards her, but her dark bedroom remained stuffy and hot. The July night was trying her patience, but she had a feeling it wasn't due to the heat of the evening. No, she'd only just taken her pillow case out of the freezer, these were her oldest, softest cotton sheets, and she wore nothing but an old cami and her underwear as she lay on the bed with the fan pointed towards her.
The reason she couldn't sleep had nothing to do with the temperature in the room.
It was the temperature in her veins that was making her feel as though she'd likely melt.
It was all due to the stupid tank top.
She tossed onto her side, the sheet getting tangled in her legs. It had been hours, but she still couldn't get the image of Peeta's bare arms out of her head. It was the first time he'd ever worn a sleeveless shirt and it just happened to be the same day she had to take his measurements. It was so stupid, really, that his bare arms had that effect on her. But having to touch his warm skin as she wrapped the tape measurer around his bicep felt like it happened in slow motion and yet somehow all too quickly. They'd been close – so close. She could smell the faint scent of whatever woodsy bodywash or aftershave he used combined with the weirdly alluring scent of flour. Even halfway through a workout his scent was appealing.
She swallowed roughly, turning her head to stare up at the ceiling of her bedroom as the scene played over and over in her mind. He was taller than her, but only a few inches. How easy it would have been to…
She'd been lucky she could snap herself out of it before doing something foolish in the middle of the gym with everyone watching. The sound of the weights and feet hitting treadmills had faded away as she stood, just inches from Peeta, admiring the girth of his strong arms. His eyes had met hers and softened slightly, focusing in on her, just her.
Closing her eyes, she kicked the sheet off and exhaled shakily. Replaying the memory of this over and over was getting her nowhere. Hot and bothered didn't even come close to describing how she felt right now.
With a grunt of frustration she shoved her hand into her underpants and tried not to gasp too loudly as she touched herself. The memory of Peeta and his stupid beefy arms came back all too easily as her fingers slid through her folds. Even her own touch made her feel breathy and over sensitized as she pictured Peeta again. In her mind, she replayed the memory again but added her own special changes this time.
The gym was empty – it was dark, for whatever reason in her mind. The light from the streetlamps shone through the glass windows, giving her only teasing glimpses of Peeta as he stood in front of her. His scent swirled in her nostrils as he leaned closer, and closer….her back hit the gym wall as he closed in on her. His arms caged her in, holding her as a willing hostage. Her breathing increased as he held her gaze in the near darkness, leaning closer and closer, his actions predatory but his gaze softly smoldering as it held hers. She wasn't afraid. Katniss tilted her head up, awaiting his kiss, but it didn't come. Instead, his nose just barely touched her cheek, dragging towards her ear.
"We're alone," he whispered.
"Yes," she agreed, trying not to smile too big. Her nipples strained against the fabric of her tank top as his chest brushed against hers, the friction making her lick her lips. "What are you going to do with me now that we're finally alone?"
Peeta pulled away enough to smile at her, then placed his lips against her ear. "I want to make you feel good," he whispered, his breath hot against her earlobe. His lips feathered a kiss against the delicate skin, making her squirm.
"Is that alright with you?"
"Yes," she exhaled quickly, nodding. "Please t-touch me."
Another smile exchanged between them in the darkness before his mouth finally crashed into hers. They weren't shy or awkward about it – this kiss was passionate and full of the yearning from the past months. His tongue mingled with hers as they both groaned in relief. Peeta's hands were on her body, his touch firm but welcomed as he ran them down her sides and to her ass, squeezing firmly. Katniss let out a gasp into his mouth as they gripped her hips and pulled her against the bulge in his shorts that left no doubt in her mind that he was as turned on as she was. He was hard and hot against her stomach and it made her insides throb with need. He kissed down her neck as one of his hands made their way into her workout pants, his hand straining against the stretchy material as he slid his fingers against her folds. The friction was enough to make her gasp again.
"Do you want this as much as I do?" he asked, kissing her passionately again.
"More," she groaned, practically grinding herself against his fingers. He slipped one, then two fingers inside of her while he thumbed her clit, all the while letting her breathe harshly into his neck.
"You're so warm and tight…I want you," he whispered in her ear. "Come for me, Katniss. I've wanted to know what you'd feel like around me for so long…"
"Oh my G-god," she gasped, feeling her walls start to throb around him. "More, Peeta, more!"
The pressure on her clit increased just the way she liked, his thumb flicking her just right. He held her up against the gym wall as her insides pulsed against his fingers. Her desperate cries echoed in the large, empty room as her climax hit her like a bus, Peeta's strong free arm holding her up against the wall. Pulling away, he gave her a whisper of kiss as he spoke, "We're only just getting started."
She sat up in bed with a jolt, gasping and covered in sweat. Her legs still shook with the aftershocks of her orgasm and her breathing was ragged as she wiped the sweat from her forehead.
That was…intense. It wasn't the first time she'd thought about Peeta in….that way, but it was the first time she'd let her mind take it that far and the touched herself along with it. It was like personalized pornography and it was deliciously decadent and completely naughty, she realized, flopping back down in bed.
How will I even look at him now?
Okay - I've teased you enough. There will be action next chapter but that is ALL I am saying. I know I know, slow burn. But most of you like it, so...
I'm toying with writing an interlude about what happened between Effie and Haymitch...would anyone read it?
Hope everyone is enjoying their summer and staying safe!
Please review!
