A/N: So I've still got writer's block so this got spat out! It's a nice change to write something light and humourous considering the normal theme of my stories. And I like the shameless smut ^_^

Warnings: Threesome relationship (duh), slight bondage, roleplaying and spanking. Oh! And accidental cross-dressing. (I know right? Whaaaat?)

Not your thing? Don't read.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games.

Chapter Two

"So, who's hedging a bet that the woman at the counter was a Right Wing Conservative?" Finnick asked.

Peeta chuckled, shaking his head as the memory of the look the woman at the costume shop gave them when they walked in all hands joined came to mind. "I suppose we're lucky we didn't give her a heart attack," he said. "Being gay is one thing but having a gay three-way relationship is another."

"The costumes we bought didn't really help either," Cato pointed out, gesturing to the grey plastic bag in his hands. "But that's her fault because she only had three left."

"We really should have went earlier," Peeta said. "I mean, it's the day before Halloween, no wonder there's barely anything left."

"Did we even check what they were?" Finnick asked.

They paused in the street and Cato broke the link as he dug his hand into his pocket to pull out the receipt. "There's a policeman, a vampire and . . ." He squinted. "I'm not sure, the ink is smudged on the last one, I think it says fireman? I don't know."

"Sure, it can't be as bad as last year's phyiasco," Peeta said. "Delly wanted a Pink Ladies group and had a spare shirt, which she promptly forced me to wear. Most embarrassing costume party of my entire life."

"Pink Ladies is from Grease, right?" Cato asked.

"I thought Footloose which apparently is a tragic faux pas that I'm never going to make in front of Delly again," Peeta answered, taking Cato's hand again.

Finnick laughed. "You actually thought it was from Footloose?"

"It's a musical!" Peeta protested. "Same genre, same costumes! Anyone could make that mistake!"

"No babe, only you could," Cato chuckled as they set off walking again. Peeta had grown accustomed to the stares they'd get from passerbys. It wasn't like he didn't get it before: being gay in Panem City was a bit of an oddity, but it was different when they'd look at himself and Cato and Finnick and view them as a trio. They'd never admitted out loud how their relationship worked but it was clear that the people watching them knew what was going on.

It made him uncomfortable at first, his mind desperate to know what they were thinking. He'd shift uncomfortabley between Cato and Finnick, whipping his hands away from theirs everytime someone glanced at them. His boyfriends were very calm about the situation, coaxing him out of his shell and teaching him that it didn't matter what they thought, what anyone thought, as long as they were happy together.

Now Peeta would let them both kiss him in public sometimes.

"I'm really dreading this business trip," Cato moaned as they got into Finnick's car. He had to go to District 2 next week to a meeting with his work partner Clove. Peeta wondered what it was going to be like without him, after having spent so long having him around. It was only going to be him and Finnick for three days.

Cato knew this and it was why he didn't want to go. Finnick didn't have a job that would take him away from Panem City and the man had been waiting for the day that Cato would be called away to a different district. As well as being very jealous, they were both also very competitive about who was the alpha in the relationship. Finnick believed it was him because he had had more sex with Peeta before the threesome began and Cato believed it was him because he knew Peeta first.

Peeta wasn't really sure who was the supposed 'alpha'. Sometimes he wondered if it was himself because he had both of them wrapped around his pinky finger. He'd dismiss the idea though because even though he did have both of them wrapped around his finger, he didn't have the courage to put it to use. He still wasn't even used to the feeling of being the object of affections of two insanely attractive guys, he still didn't believe he deserved it.

"It's only three days," he offered up helpfully, trying to make Cato feel better. He caught Finnick smirking out of the corner of his eye as the man started the car and he rolled his eyes. "Only seventy two hours."

"Yeah, seventy two hours away from you," Cato said grumpily in the backseat.

"You won't miss me that much," Peeta replied, remembering to put his seatbelt on and quickly buckling himself in. "And we've still got the Halloween party before then."

"Oh joy, a night at Delly Cartwright's," Finnick said sarcastically.

"Come on guys, she ain't that bad," Peeta said. "Just a bit . . . over enthusiastic."

"Over enthusiastic?" Cato laughed. "Such an understatement."

"Do we have to go?" Finnick moaned.

Peeta laughed. "Seriously guys, it'll be fun," he insisted.

"I can think of better ways to spend Halloween," Cato replied.

"Oh yeah?" Peeta asked, twisting in the car seat to face Cato in the back. "How?"

"Night of masquerade and pretend?" Finnick asked. "The possibilities are endless! Did you know that the most popular month for baby births is July because so many people try out new things on Halloween night than any other night?"

"I thought that was September because of New Years' Eve?" Cato frowned.

"Besides the point," Finnick replied. He put his hand on Peeta's knee and squeezed it. "Apparently sex can be really interesting with costumes. It makes roleplaying games more fun because of the authenticity of the game."

"And you're suggesting, what?" Peeta asked. "A game with a policeman, dracula and a fireman? To me that only sounds like a failed attempt at the YMCA crew."

"Could work," Cato considered. Peeta gave him an incredulous look that said 'Don't encourage him!'. "It doesn't have to be with all the costumes. We could be the policemen and you could be the naughty convict who needs to be put in place." Finnick groaned, eyes still locked on the road and a hand still on the steering wheel.

"Well gee, how creative," Peeta said dryly. "And what's going to happen then? The beginning of a cheesy porn movie?" He dropped his voice to a breathy whisper and said, "'I'm so sorry for driving through that traffic light officers, is there any way I can make it up to you?'" He raised his eyebrows skeptically at Cato, waiting for an answer.

"Say that while pulling your shirt sleeve down then we might be on to something," he replied.

"You know I was being sarcastic, right?"

Finnick jerked the wheel to take a sudden right, driving down a dirt path they didn't recognize. He parked in a field of tall grass and got out of the car. Peeta scrambed over the middle console and hung his head out the door. "Where are you going?!" he yelled.

"I need a wank before I bust a nut," Finnick replied, disappearing behind a tree.

"Oh real classy," Cato said.

"I think it was getting too intense for him," Peeta said. He climbed into the backseat to sit beside Cato, resting his head on his shoulder and sighing. "At least we'll know for next time." Cato kissed the top of his head and smelled his hair.

"Did you use a different shampoo this morning?"

"Yeah, apple. Why? Is is bad?" Peeta asked.

"No, it smells great." Cato buried his nose into his hair and took a long sniff. "Not that the sandalwood wasn't bad either." He threaded his fingers through the thick golden strands and lightly scraped his fingernails along his scalp. Peeta shivered. "Maybe we should start calling you goldilocks."

"Hey! You have blond hair too!" Peeta protested.

"Yeah, but not the long, thick, wild curls that you do," Cato murmered into his head. He brushed his cheek against his hair and sighed. "It's like strands of silk sprouting from your roots."

Peeta blushed at the compliment. He wasn't used to accepting all the constant adulation he'd recieve from both Cato and Finnick. They made him feel good-if not slightly embarrassed-about himself. It was worse during sex. Neither of them were very skilled in the art of keeping your mouth shut. They loved to talk and tease and worship him with words of praise. It was hard enough having the confidence to let himself be exposed so openly to two men but to have them continuely tell him how sexy they think he is and how much they love him was so alien that Peeta was surprised his cheeks weren't premanantly stained pink.

Finnick got back into the car soon after, shaking some residual cum off his hand. He slid into the backseat and shut the door, locking it immediately after. "So what's going on back here?" he asked. "Am I missing a party?"

"No need to be jealous Odair," Cato replied. Peeta rolled his eyes and sat up right, cracking his neck and back.

"It's okay," he told Finnick. "Nothing happened." He pecked his cheek and immediately turned and pecked Cato's as well. "Now come on, let's go. We need to check if the costumes fit before tomorrow."

~xXx~

"You have got to be kidding me!"

"What's wrong?" Cato asked.

"You said it was a fireman costume!"

"No, I said that the ink on the recepit was smudged and I thought it was a fireman costume!"

"Why?" Finnick asked. "What is it?"

There was clip-clop sounds behind the en suite bathroom door before Peeta barged out, fuming. "If I hear one laugh I swear to God I'm leaving you both," he threatened. The first thing they noticed was that it wasn't a man's costume they had bought, it was a woman's. Secondly it wasn't just any ordinary woman's costume, it was a woman's costume of a hooker. "I look like a slut!"

"A female slut," Cato corrected.

"It actually fits pretty well for a woman's costume," Finnick said. "What size is it?"

"It's a small," Peeta muttered.

"A woman's small fits you?" They both exclaimed.

"Hey, remember what I said! The door is right there!" Peeta said threateningly.

The black lace bodice actually clung to his torso quite well even without the pink ribbons at the back being tightened. The skirt fluffled out into a white net petti coat underlayer that stopped mid thigh. It had even come with a set of garters, a girdle and a pair of stockings, which was pretty hilarious when you think about the fact that it had only cost a pound. Maybe that was why the woman at the counter was looking at them funny.

"I can't believe you bought a hooker costume!" Peeta exclaimed.

"To be fair, we didn't really look to see what we were buying," Finnick pointed out.

"Why do I have to be the one to wear it?!"

"I don't think a woman's small would fit us," Cato answered. Peeta regarded them both with an expression full of acid. Cato and Finnick were finding it very difficult indeed not to burst out laughing. "Here, you're not even wearing it right." Cato turned him around and put his hands against the wall. He grabbed the ribbons and pulled as hard he could to tighten the bodice.

"I can't believe you're actually doing this," Peeta muttered. "I'm just going to take it off as soon as you're done anyway."

"Here, Finnick, you tie the ribbon," Cato said.

"Oh no, no, no, no, no, no!" Peeta tried to turn around but Cato stopped him, pinning his hands to the wall while Finnick tied the ribbons up into one of his killer knots. "Oh come on!" When he finished, Peeta whirled around on them with an expression that could stop a clock. "Untie it now!"

"But baby, you look so sexy," Finnick purred, brushing the hair away from his face.

"I look like a prostitute cross dresser," Peeta contradicted. "Look at the state of me!"

His boyfriends eyes scanned him insync, trailing down at the same time and then back up again. Peeta suddenly felt very exposed, realizing that the skirt barely covered his backside let alone hid his decency and the bodice was pretty low hanging-designed for a woman with no breasts he supposed since it fit him so well. He made a patheic attempt at pulling the skirt down, tugging feebly at it to cover himself up.

"I don't see anything wrong at all," Finnick said. "Do you Cato?"

Cato shook his head. "Nope, not at all."

"Yeah, well, you wouldn't," Peeta replied dryly. "If you haven't noticed, I look like a street walker!"

"Isn't that illegal?" Finnick frowned.

Peeta rolled his eyes and turned on his heel, leaving the room. He made a face at his reflection in the mirror in the bathroom before tugging at the stupid girdle that held the stockings up. He couldn't remember how he'd gotten them on but now they weren't coming out. Great. Just what he needed. With an irritated groan, he came back into the bedroom.

"Guys, I need you to help me get out of this-" He paused as he saw Finnick and Cato leaning side by side against the wall in a worryingly casual way. Cato had pulled the officer hat onto his head and Finnick was playing with the handcuffs. "Uh, what are you two doing?"

Finnick pushed away from the wall and took his wrists, pinning them behind his back and cuffing them together.

"Finnick!" Peeta exclaimed. "What the hell?!"

"Sir, you are under arrest for prositution and street walking, whatever you say or do may be used as evidence against you in a court of law," Finnick replied, his voice expressing that he was trying not to laugh.

"Oh my god, seriously?! That's like rubbing salt in the wound!"

Cato had the hat tilted over his eyes so a dark shadow was cast over his face, which he then flicked up to reveal the blue orbs which were currently clouded with lust. Peeta glared at him but he showed no sign of it as he pretended to chew tabacco like a cowboy in the old west. "My, look what we have here," he said, approaching him and running his knuckle down his cheek. Peeta was still mad, jerking his face away and narrowing his eyes.

"Sure is a looker, isn't he?" Finnick teased.

"Oh shut up the both of you," Peeta snapped grumpily.

"Now, is that any way to talk to your officers?" Cato asked, sticking to his character very well for someone who couldn't act. "If you don't start having some respect we might have to put you in your place."

"Oh gee, I hope not!" Peeta said sarcastically.

"This one's got fire, hasn't he?" Finnick teased, his lips brushing against his ear. Peeta exhaled shakily and fought not to give in.

"A real fighter," Cato commented. His hands slid up his inner thighs, thumbs grazing the top of the stockings. Peeta trembled under his touch, biting back on a moan and trying to convince himself he was still angry with them. Finnick took his ear into his mouth and sucked on it, running his tongue along the shell and biting on the lobe. Peeta whimpered, his hands clenching into fists in the cuffs.

"I love the fighters," Finnick murmered.

They walked around him in a 360 circle, examining his body like spectators at an art show. Peeta kept a scowl on his face the entire time, showing them how pissed off he really was. Both stopped at the back to study the way the skirt bowed upwards at the hips, revealing the boy's plump, unclothed rump. They spent quite a particular amount of time doing this and had to resist the urge to reach out and grab it as to keep in character.

Finnick stayed behind him, still slightly hypnotised by the sight of his lover's bubble butt while Cato moved back on around to face him. "You know we've never had a convict as pretty as you before," he said, dancing his fingers along Peeta's collarbone. "We might have some use for you after all."

"Oh how exciting," he responded acerbically. Finnick pressed his chest against his back, smoothing his hands up his thighs to bunch up the skirt at his waist. Peeta let out a tiny gasp, his eyes threatening to roll behind his head when he squeezed his inner thigh mockingly. It wasn't fair, they knew were all his sensitive spots were. Between them, they could both just make him cum by manipulating two certain areas at the same time.

Cato latched onto his neck with his mouth, biting down hard on the tender spots. Peeta groaned, his hips bucking against his will in search of friction. Hands smoothed down his shoulders, rubbing his neck in a way only Finnick's massage therapist hands could do. They were trying to turn him into jelly in their hands but it wasn't going to work.

"You're both going to hell," Peeta muttered, unable to hold onto his moan when Cato bit his lip and tugged on it.

"I think it's time we taught our little convict how to behave," Cato said.

"Agreed," Finnick replied.

"What are you gonna do?" Peeta asked sarcastically. "Spank me like a child?"

Finnick and Cato exchanged a look.

"No, I was joking," Peeta said, knowing full well what they were thinking. "Guys? Guys, I was kid-ah!" Cato threw him up and over his shoulder like a sack of flour, walking proudly to the bed like a freaking peacock. "Neither of you are getting sex for a year after this," Peeta said when Cato sat down and held him in his lap like a child.

"I think this might just be worth it," Finnick said.

"Oh really now?"

"Really really."

"Fine then, be sexless for a year, see if I care!" Peeta yelped when Cato put him over his knee like a child. The skirt of the hooker costume slid up his back, exposing his bare rump to his boyfriends.

"You dirty boy, you weren't wearing underwear," Cato mocked, his hand gliding over the tender skin delicately.

"Well the costume didn't leave much room for it!" Peeta replied acidly.

"A lovely thing to stumble upon I must say," Finnick said, his hand ghosting over his lover's bum as well. Peeta twitched fearfully, worried that it was going to hurt severely. He'd never been spanked before and with his hands so helplessly behind his back he couldn't stop them.

Breaking character for a moment, Cato leaned forward and whispered, "It's not that bad babe, you'll enjoy it."

When the first smack came, Peeta yelped, the impact not hurting as much as he thought but not being extremely enjoyable either. The second one was more forceful and small jolts of pleasure crawled up his spine. He had never considered himself a masochist but for Finnick and Cato, he'd try anything.

They took turns spanking him, listening to his moans like fine music composed by an orchastra. Peeta found himself enjoying it, groaning and gasping at every smack. It ended on an even number of slaps (obviously) and by the end of it Peeta's backside was glowing pink. He was panting like the slut he was dressed as, sweat trickling down his temples and cheeks.

"Told you you'd like it," Cato pointed out.

"I won't be able to sit down for weeks," Peeta muttered, his cheeks stinging.

"Oh, we're sorry baby," Finnick cooed, pressing a gentle kiss to his abused butt.

"I'm filing a report on you two officers." Peeta rested his chin on Cato's knee and blew a raspberry. "I think I'm going to go for sexual harrassment. Maybe you'll lose your jobs." Cato wrapped his arms around his waist and pulled him up to kneel on his lap.

"And what?" he purred. "We can do this more often?"

"Ha ha you're funny." Peeta slid off Cato's lap and sighed, dusting himself off. "So are you guys going to help me out of this or what?"

"Well," Finnick said, "if you're offering."

"Oh you're both just full of jokes today," Peeta replied with faux cheer. "Now help me get the girdle off." Finnick, being the expert at this sort of thing, beckoned him closer and bunched the skirt up to his waist to get a better look at the girdle. Cato attempted to do the other one, pushing the fabric of the skirt out of his way and fiddling with the girdle.

"This is ridiculous," he muttered. "Why do women wear this crap?"

"To make horny partners fall into their traps," Finnick replied.

"So it worked then?" Peeta grinned, laughing when Finnick slapped his ass irritablely.

Finally, the girdle gave in and the stockings could be taken off. Peeta sat down, trying to figure out how he was going to do it with his hands still bound behind his back. "Allow me," Cato said. Raising his eyebrows, Peeta let Cato pull the silky material off. He did it slowly, hungrily watching the skin as it was exposed bit by bit. Peeta smiled sheepishly, ducking his head into his chest in embarrassment.

Finnick lay back on the bed, watching as well if avid interest. Cato kissed his ankle once he got the garment off completely and slowly peeled off the other one.

"This is slowest undressing ever," Peeta complained.

"We can't do it fast because then it wouldn't be very appreciative now, would it?" Finnick replied.

"Har de har har," Peeta said. "Hey, while you're not doing anything, you can get started on those damn ribbons you tied."

"Yes mom," Finnick chuckled, moving behind him and working open his knots again. Peeta let out a long breath as the bodice loosened, glad to be able to breath without strain again. Finnick pulled the thing off and threw it away off to the side. Peeta was glad to be rid of it. He lay back on the bed and sighed. Cato sat down beside him and rested a comforting hand on his abdamon.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Mmm," Peeta responded vaguely.

"I'll take that as a yes then, shall I?"

Peeta didn't answer, because he'd already fallen asleep.

A/N: I'm thinking for the next story to maybe be what happens while Cato's away on the busniess trip. This one was like a little Halloween special for y'all ^_^

Please R&R! :D