This is my first fanfic ever and I'm already having so much fun! Thank you to all who read, reviewed, favorited, and followed. Seeing it all really made me feel wonderful. I'm not a writer, but I just love this pairing and wanted to try my hand at it. Now, for my first ever shout-outs!
HungerWho37- You were my first reviewer ever! Thank you! And I glad I gave you a good laugh.
Guest- I'm happy that you like the story. You wanted more, well here you go!
MangoMagic- This chapter should give you a nice taste of that Peeta and Cato interaction. Hope you like it.
yodell- You asked for it, here it is. I'm happy to oblige :)
Arriving last to the capitol, Peeta and Katniss were immediately whisked away to meet with their stylists and prepare for the tribute parade. The other district's tributes were already in the midst of being prepped, and the Career districts of 1, 2, and 4 were certainly no exception.
"I fucking love this headdress. I think the gold really makes my hazel eyes pop. Wouldn't you agree, Cato?" Clove purred over to her gladiator partner.
"Clove, darling," Cato mocked, "you could have neon lights coming out of your ass and no one would pay any attention to you as long as you're next to me on the chariot."
"Whatever makes you feel better, you egotistical prick," Clove smirked back at the towering tribute. The two had a love-hate relationship stemming from the first day they met at the academy. Clove always knew he would be her competition one day, but until then they were a screwed-up pair of somewhat confidants. Always taking stabs at the other to get underneath each other's skin was a form of mutual entertainment for them. And as much as Clove wanted to take a stab at Cato's appearance at the moment, she really couldn't. He looked positively drool-worthy. His tall athletic body mirrored that of a modern day Adonis, dressed in gold gladiator armor, the breastplate pressed against his lightly tanned skin. His platinum blond locks jutted out of his roman-style helmet, an exquisite decorative sword adorned his side. Staring into his emerald green eyes, she had to admit she was impressed with her old chum. She was striking as well with her raven hair flowing around her own toned frame, but Cato would definitely be racking up sponsors the moment their chariot pulled out from the training center.
Cato was about to come back at her with another snide remark until the two were interrupted by the arrival of the other Career tributes.
"Are you guys ready to bring the house down!" exclaimed Glimmer as she was followed by Marvel and the tributes from district 4.
"Nice get-ups guys," Clove cackled as she got an eyeful of what their stylists put them in.
"Whatever 2," Marvel waved her off, "We could rock a burlap sack if we had to."
Cato couldn't help but scoff a bit at the outfits. District 1 glued into feather and sequins, district 4 draped with scales and fishnets. He was glad his stylist showed some restraint. Not that it really mattered to him what he wore. This was all secondary dribble that came with the territory. Cato couldn't wait to be done with all the pageantry shit and get straight into the arena to show his deadly power. The Careers continued to better acquaint themselves as they were to be training as a pack tomorrow and they didn't even take notice of the arrival of the rest of the tributes.
As the parade began, the district 1 chariot led the way, followed by district 2. The crowd's roar was a rush as Cato pumped his fists of fury into the air. Complete strangers were screaming his name and swooning at the site of the Romanesque god. Clove's kisses were grabbed from the air by thousands of adoring fans as the district 2 tributes made their mark that they were the ones to beat. That is until they almost reached the end of the parade route and heard a hush over the crowd. All the tributes became confused and turned their heads to search for what affected the audience. The site was jaw-dropping.
The anthem blared as district 12 appeared in a literal blaze of glory. The tributes were seen holding hands in matching black leather, hugging them in all the right places. Fiercely rippling off their bodies were bold tongues of flames that had initially stunned the crowd into silence. Now fully revealing that the flames were part of the costume, the crowd broke into absolute chaos. They went crazy for the tributes on fire. They looked beyond human. A true elemental force to be reckoned with.
Further stunning the tributes were the sudden collective stomping and chanting.
"District 12! District 12! District 12!"
Peeta leaned over to Katniss as roses fell upon them. "Chanting for district 12? Honestly haven't heard that before. Let's just roll with it, shall we?" He muttered with a grin. Katniss smirked and nodded as Peeta raised their held hands high above their heads, eliciting even more thunderous applause from the massive crowd. As much as it disgusted Peeta to have to put on a show for Capitol scum, he was aware that his life was in their hands at the moment and every sponsor mattered. He'd win these games and get his revenge. The thought comforted him.
As the last of the chariots circled their way into the front of the Capitol mansion, President Snow appeared to give the annual address to this year's tributes. The tributes were hardly paying him any mind though, their eyes still focused on the dancing flames emanating off Peeta and Katniss.
Many were staring in awe; a few in envious disgust. The Careers were staring daggers, except for Cato. Cato was frozen in stunned silence when he finally got a good look at the boy on fire. The district 12 male was gorgeous. His body looked delicious in the tight leather suit. The way the flames licked his body, Cato couldn't help but wish it was his own tongue instead. The blaze burned brightly and reflected off the smaller boy's sapphire eyes, creating a contrast of fire and ice that sent shivers down the gladiator's spine. He would have him; there would be no denying it. He could already feel the younger boy writhing beneath him. The games just got more interesting…
The next morning, the tributes assembled into the basement of the training center. Formal introductions of each of the trainers and their stations were given and the day began as expected. Peeta and Katniss worked together for the first half of the day, practicing snares and running the obstacle courses. Haymitch had seen the effect the two holding hands last night at the parade had made on the crowd and decided it was best that they kept up appearances that they were presenting a united front. At lunch they sat together at a table and found themselves joined by the tributes from 11 and 6.
"Do you mind if we sit with you two?" the little boy from 6 meekly chirped.
Peeta couldn't help but be a little sad at the sight. The boy couldn't be older than 12 years, with mousy brown hair and big grey eyes. Looking past the boy's shoulder at the girl from 11, she looked about the same age. Since when would such tiny children ever really stand a chance here? The male from 11 looked much more capable, towering over them all. The girl from 6 looked about Peeta's age, but had a burnt-out expression that led him to assume her brained was fried from the morphling district 6 was infamous for. She wasn't really in these games to win.
"Not at all. Join us. I'm Peeta. This is Katniss. District 12."
"Oh, we know what district you're from. Your parade costumes were so cool! I would've been so scared to be set on fire! Anyway, I'm Pip. District 6. My partner here is Jazz and this is Rue and Thresh from 11."
"It's nice to meet you all," Peeta and Katniss smiled.
The little group of misfits got along well. Peeta and Katniss couldn't help but have their heartstrings pulled a bit watching Pip and Rue. After lunch, Peeta split off from Katniss when she wanted to practice more camouflage. He met up with Pip at the edible plants station for an hour or so before meandering around looking for something else to do. He decided to go ahead and have a little fun at the hand-to-hand combat station.
District 12 tributes were infamous for entering the Hunger Games already half dead, suffering from a life of hard labor, hunger, and illness. It always angered Peeta how unfair the matchups were. The lower districts like 12 were basically put into the arena so the Careers would have something to stab at. District 12 certainly wasn't known for their fighting skills, but Peeta's years of secret military training had set him apart. He knew how to assess his enemy, he knew how to survive in the wilderness, and he knew how to fight. He admitted he was a novice with weapons like swords and tridents and he couldn't hold a candle to Katniss' skills with the bow. His weaponry training was extensive in knives and firearms since his training was for a modern war with the Capitol, not the primitive fighting seen in the Hunger Games. Regardless, he knew how to hold his own on the mat. He was contemplating revealing his skill or holding back and playing the part of the typical district 12 tribute.
The trainer nodded as Peeta approached. "Hello, district 12. Welcome to the hand-to-hand combat station. The basic skills I'm about to teach you could mean the difference between life and death should you find yourself face-to-face with another tribute. Step forward to the mat, please. Are you ready to begin?"
Peeta nodded and obediently followed the trainer's instructions, pretending to be completely ignorant on the different fighting styles and techniques. This was certainly not his first time at the rodeo, but the trainer didn't need to know that. He mastered every move and escape technique the trainer threw his way.
"Excellent district 12. You are simply a natural. Perhaps you are already set to spar. I'll just find you a partner-"
"I'll wrestle with him."
Peeta turned his head to meet the emerald gaze behind the challenger. He read the district number on the side of the older boy's training uniform. District 2. A Career. Holy hell, he's hot. The taller tribute approached Peeta with a look of supreme malice. Or was it hunger? Peeta shook his head at the thought and simply smirked at the Career before taking his position on the mat. Cato took a similar stance opposite him, and the trainer blew the whistle.
Cato took the offense from the get-go, shooting straight at Peeta and gaining the advantage. The boys grappled for a valiant length of time, Peeta holding his own, but he was smaller than the older boy and he knew that coming from district 2, the brute would likely dominate any opponent on the mat. And sure enough, as Peeta was exhausting his last reserves of energy, Cato knocked him to ground and pressed the weight of his entire body into him. Peeta was focused on keeping his shoulders above the mat when suddenly his focus was ripped away to somewhere other than his shoulders. Peeta could feel something hard pressing into his inner thigh and his eyes grew wide as he realized it was Cato. Peeta had enough strength left to try an escape move, but upon feeling Cato's "excitement," he smugly realized there was a different game he could play. He exerted a burst of energy to turn himself around so that his back was now against Cato's front with the Career still securing him in a strangling bear hug. Peeta could feel the heavy panting of the brute against his neck. It was then Peeta decided to feign a desperate struggle to "escape" that positioned him perfectly to grind his ass against the dominating teen's bulge. Peeta heard the stifled groan caught in the older boy's throat before Peeta's energy ran out and he was flipped back around, Cato pinning him down and winning the match.
"Not bad 12," the Career panted above him, "not bad at all."
"Thanks. And thanks for volunteering to spar with me," Peeta sweetly smiled. "I learned a lot."
"I'll take any excuse to get a good-looking man all hot and bothered," Cato whispered in the younger boy's ear as he helped him up. Peeta blushed a bit at the comment. Cato clearly wasn't tip toeing around his attraction for the boy.
Peeta pulled away to stare up at the older boy before dramatically raising an eyebrow. His eyes drifted down to Cato's still visible excitement. "Hmm, it seems you're the one who's all hot and bothered," Peeta smirked as he brushed the back of his hand against Cato's pants, walking away. Cato forcefully grabbed Peeta's wrist and pulled the smaller boy back to him.
"You're a bit of a smartass for a coalminer, aren't ya?" Cato rumbled through gritted teeth.
"I'm not a miner," Peeta corrected the brute as he yanked his hand free and continued to walk away. "I help my father run the district bakery."
"A baker, huh?" Cato questioned as he followed Peeta a little too closely. "No wonder I smelled cinnamon when I held you against me. You must have it embedded into your DNA or something. It's intoxicating really."
Peeta found himself blushing once again. Damn his body's betrayal. The Career was an aggressive douche. Why was he getting so worked up over his flirtations? It wasn't like Peeta had never been hit on before. But he had to admit he'd never met anyone like this boy. Still, he had to stay focused. He was in the fucking Hunger Games after all. He was fraternizing with the enemy. "Well, if my scent is so intoxicating," Peeta offered, "I'll do you a tremendous favor and stay as far away from you as possible in the arena."
"Oh, on the contrary 12," Cato purred, "you won't be getting far from me. I'll make sure of that."
Peeta felt an involuntary shiver ascend up his spine. It was from a mixture of terror, resentment, and to his chagrin, excitement. Just then a trainer blew the whistle announcing the end of the day's training. Without another word or a second glance at the district 2 tribute, Peeta immediately retreated to an elevator with Katniss to return to their floor. He felt the heated glare of piercing green eyes on him until the closing of the elevator door finally offered him release.