Author's Note: I just wanted to take a moment to thank those of you who left a review. Feedback is always appreciated and I'm sure like most writers, they always provide inspiration to continue.

I would like to add that I have fleshed out an arc that should span over the next six or seven chapters. I feel really good about it, and I'm sure you will really enjoy it. I'm having a blast writing this story. I will have the next chapter up shortly.

Thanks to you all. I hope you enjoy.

I would also like to warn that this chapter contains explicit content.

Finnick wiped his hand across the steamed up mirror in his bathroom as he ran a towel through his locks. His eyes immediately focused on the figure lying in the bed behind him forcing him to smirk to himself.

He reached for the can of shaving cream on the counter top, extracted a healthy dollop, and began lathering his warm face with it. As he brought the razor to his jaw line and began swiftly shaving his neck, the events that transpired the night before started to appear less cloudy in his memory.

He remembered a pair of long legs dangling gracefully from a bar stool, tracing them down all the way to the black stilettos at the end. He'd seen her there before, only this time she was alone. When he approached her, she seemed flustered, almost too shy to talk to him. She was clearly taken by his charm and class. It only took twenty minutes to persuade her to come home with him, and a further ten to have her undress.

Splashing warm water on his face, he wiped himself down and made his way back to the bedroom to dress for work where he was faced with the uncomfortable task of waking the woman who's name he couldn't remember, and asking her to leave.

He would promise to call her. He'd made that promise several times before. Just like the other times, he had no real intention of keeping his word.

The temperature had dropped over the past week but Finnick didn't mind. After being stationed in a desert for over a year, cold weather was something he had begun looking forward to. Winter was approaching quickly, he was excited to see the streets littered with snow.

He pulled the front door to his apartment building closed behind him, avoiding the dirty looks of his elderly neighbour on the first floor who had no doubt caught the young woman who had only made her exit fifteen minutes earlier. Given the amount of people who continually crossed the threshold of his building on a weekly basis, he knew his neighbours opinion of him couldn't be very good, not that he cared.

His stomach rumbled. He hadn't had a chance to eat a proper breakfast after another late night. He checked his watch and was revealed to realize he had some free time before work started, 54 minutes to be precise. An idea occurred to him, he was surprised that he had remembered a certain bakery that was mentioned to him days earlier upon meeting a younger man who had wormed his way into his thoughts on more than one occasion that week.

Finnick crossed the street before walking four blocks in the opposite direction of where he needed to be heading. The smell of fresh baked bread lingered in the air as he turned the corner of the block. The bakery was unmistakable and stood out amongst the classic brownstone buildings it was surrounded by. A blonde man in his mid forties, who he assumed was the owner stood outside sweeping away the last of the Autumn leaves. He wondered if Peeta was inside, and if his self-proclaimed culinary skills were the cause behind the sweet scent that filled the street.

He checked his watch again as he made his way closer to the bakery.

"Finnick?" A familiar voice called.

Taken by surprise, he quickly turned and was greeted by Peeta's warm and already familiar smile. He sat on a plastic milk crate in the alley behind the shop before gingerly rising up and walking closer to him. The smell of bread was quickly replaced with that of second hand smoke, a smell which to Finnick, seemed more intoxicating.

"What are you doing here?" The young man asked with a chuckle.

His heart still racing, he ran a hand through his dark bronze hair and laughed almost nervously at the fright he was just given. "I needed some breakfast. I've heard good things about this place."

Peeta bit back a smile and poked his head from behind the grey stone, watching the man with the broom before taking Finnick by the arm gently and moving a couple of feet back into the alley that provided seclusion from the quiet street.

"Sorry. I don't want my boss to find me sneaking a cigarette," he said with a laugh as he took another quick drag and his attention returned to his visitor. "He's kind of been busting my ass lately, not that I haven't given him cause to."

Finnick nodded, taking a step closer and admiring the way the sun caught the blonde locks, "Maybe you should spend less time in bars with handsome older men."

Peeta shrugged and smiled. His white shirt and blue jeans already dusted with flour marks. He took a step closer to the older man, "Did you come here to see me?"

"I came for the coffee."

"Our coffee sucks."

"So I don't suppose you want to get one with me?" he asked, eyeing the milky white skin around his neck. "I've got about half an hour before work."

Peeta paused for a moment, considering the offer before reluctantly shaking his head. "I really want to, but I better head in. My brother will kill me if I get fired." He dropped the cigarette and put it out with his foot.

"That's too bad." Finnick reached his hand out to brush away the few stay hairs that hung over his forehead, his thumb gently brushed against the faded bruise below his right eye. "I better let you go back in and knead some dough."

The younger man let out a deep breath as if he'd been holding it in since he arrived. "Yeah, I should get in there," he mumbled, pressing his body into the taller frame with no intention of going anywhere.

His hand involuntarily rested on the smaller man's hip, gently pushing him into the brick wall, he leaned in. "Aren't you worried the bread will burn?" he asked with a smirk.

Peeta chuckled, his lips inched closer to Finnick's, a small breath of air issued from his throat as a large hand fingered the waist of his jeans. His own hand rested on the man's cheek. "Are we still on for tomorrow night?" he asked gently as their lips hovered and the seduction continued.

"I'll meet you at nine," Finnick mumbled fervidly as he pressed his lips to Peeta's, discovering a taste and scent better than bread or cigarettes. His lips parted for only a moment, "You have no idea how much I want you."

Both of Peeta's hands travelled to curl in the taller man's hair as his body involuntarily bucked into him. He quickly became lost in his senses, now consumed with Finnick, his warmth and his taste. His hands travelled down, finding the firm torso and grasping the strong body. Finnick continued kissing him, gently at first before rapidly picking up the pace. He held Peeta tightly in place, pressing his kisses with determination and force, completely careless of anything else in the world besides him and his lips.

"Fuck it," Peeta hissed as the man's hand worked it's way underneath his shirt, fingers brushed against the soft skin. "Ten minutes won't make any difference."

Peeta sat on the warm hood of his car. A 1970 Dodge Charger. He'd known the engine had been failing him lately. Had his father still been alive they would have set to work to replace it, it was the last job the car needed after months of restoration. After the demise of his parents, Peeta didn't really see the point in restoring the old car and had simply decided to let it die with all their hard work. The once treasured car now just reminded him of ghosts, treasured memories and feelings he now thought lost and irretrievable.

Another ten minutes had passed waiting for Noah to collect him, he began to wonder how long he would wait before he would start walking. He also needed to decide what to do with the car now. He certainly couldn't leave it by the side of the road indefinitely. He supposed he would sell it. He would get next to nothing of value for it without a working engine. He didn't care. It was just further superfluous baggage he didn't need or want. He figured he would purchase a new car with some of the money left to him in his parent's will. He still hadn't touched the money and had decided to let it gain interest, it seemed like it was the only sensible decision he had made in the last few months.

Noah's car pulled up on the side of the road shortly after. Peeta grabbed his apron and bag and climbed into the passenger seat. They had barely spoken to each other in days, which wasn't uncommon anymore. Within seconds of stepping into the car, the awkward silence was deafening.

"Put your seatbelt on," Noah mumbled as he turned the car back onto the road.

Peeta stilled at the instruction for a moment before complying without argument. He wasn't sure if his brother would have instructed him to do so had their parents not been killed in a head on collision. "Seatbelts don't do too much good when you're ploughed into by a truck."

"That's not funny, Peeta," his brother said sharply, turning his attention away from the road for only a few seconds to stare at him warningly.

He didn't find it funny either. He wasn't even too sure why he said it. He had resented what he had turned into. A bitter, unhappy shell of the person he once was. There was no doubt in his mind that he was the cause of the antagonistic relationship with Noah. Suddenly a thought occurred and his mind quickly returned to the man he was still unable to fall out of love with.

He was the reason Cato stopped calling, why he hadn't spoken to him in a month. He drove him away with his recklessness and indifference.

"It's okay, Peeta," Noah said, his tone assuring, snapping him straight out of his own thoughts and into the present.

"W-What?" Peeta muttered, staring at his flour crusted shoes, his mouth gaping at the revelation.

Once again Noah looked away from the road at him, quickly looking back and forth between the two, sure not to look away from the road for more than a second. "Your car. We'll get it towed and shop around for a new engine. I know it was something you and dad-"

"-I don't want that car anymore," He blurted, almost disgusted that his brother would suggest such a thing. He could feel the anger rising back up within himself. He didn't want it. He never wanted it. He didn't even know he had it in him to be this vile. "If you love the fucking thing so much why don't you take it?"

He immediately regretted the words the second they came from his mouth, but there was no taking them back, and he definitely couldn't take back the hurt he'd just inflicted on his brother. The tell tale signs of hurt registered all over Noah's face. He couldn't do anything but shut his mouth, and ignore it. There was no use in doing anything besides standing by the words he hated saying.

Noah flexed the steering wheel and stopped the car at a set of lights. "I don't want to do this anymore." he muttered, vague as ever.

"Do what?" Peeta mumbled, staring out the passenger window, trying his best not to make eye contact.

"I don't want to live with you anymore. I want to get my own place again," He said in a scathing tone, "The only reason I haven't sold the house is because I needed to take care of you and now I don't recognise you, I don't even know who the hell you are anymore.

Peeta couldn't blame him for feeling that way, but a small part of him did, the small part of him that still needed his older brother to look after him, take care of him the way he used to before he drove him away. He twisted his face, making sure he was turned away so the older man couldn't see the pain. Despite how he hated hearing his confession, he still couldn't bring himself to admit fault and face surrender, knowing he was only digging a deeper grave for himself.

He took a few measured breaths and made sure his voice wasn't about to crack before he continued with his onslaught. "Go wherever you want. I can take care of myself."

"Yeah," Noah scoffed, "I'll believe that when I don't have to pick you up from the police station strung out of your mind, or pour you into bed when you've passed out on the front lawn."

Peeta felt a few tears rise to his eyes. He shut them tightly and refused to let them fall, finding it harder and harder as they drove on in complete silence.

It was not the first time he'd gone home with someone he picked up at a bar before. But it was the first time he'd felt so nervous. Peeta held two fingers up to his neck, his pulse was beating furiously. He took the same seat at the end of the bar, carefully studying the reflection behind the counter for any sign of Finnick.

He checked his watch again. Finnick was ten minutes late. Was he still going to show? Peeta grew more anxious with each passing minute. His heart sunk at the possibility that Finnick had stood him up.

Wanting to make the night special, he'd gone to a lot of effort to make himself presentable. A white shirt with a sharp black tie along with a black waistcoat for good measure. He felt stupid and overdressed, like a little boy the day of his school photo.

He decided to wait outside and have a cigarette. His nerves were shot, and he wanted to feel the sweet bliss of nicotine run through him and slow his mind down from the endless bombardment of frustrations that stormed through his head. He spun around in his seat and moved for the exit. He kept his head down as he fished through his pocket looking for his pack of Capitol Red's when he bumped into someone.

"Sorry I'm late," Finnick said, his dashing smile already making the smaller man blush. "You weren't taking off already were you?"

Peeta smiled and instantly felt relieved, "No. I was just going out for a smoke. You want to come?"

The older man looked as suave as ever in his red shirt and matching black tie and jacket. He shrugged, "Actually, I thought we could go somewhere else tonight. Have you eaten anything?"

"I had a cheeseburger for lunch, and half a sleeve of oreo's for dinner," he replied, suddenly feeling giddy that their evening was turning out to be a real date, and not just an implied sexual encounter.

The older man chuckled and checked his watch, "C'mon," he said, motioning his head for the exit. "I know a place."

Stepping out of Finnick's car, Peeta scanned the street for any signs of familiarity finding none. They walked together down a grassy knoll to a quiet looking restaurant. The air was cool and felt good on his neck, as did the hand that gently rested on his lower back as they walked.

Peeta hung back when they arrived, letting Finnick speak to the hostess and reserve a table. He couldn't help but notice the way she gushed when he spoke to her, and how she brushed a lock of her own hair behind her ear ever so slowly. It suddenly occurred to him that Finnick seemed to have this affect on most people he met. He couldn't tell if it was his way of speaking, his deep, charming voice or his beauty, and even he himself wasn't immune to falling for his charm. Now he was left to wonder how many lovers the man had and if he was looking for someone special, just like Peeta was.

After only a short wait, in which time they shared a cigarette, they were taken to a table at the back. The restaurant was quiet and was now only occupied by a handful of couples, each radiating quality and sophistication. This was Finnick's world, and Peeta couldn't help but feel like he was missing some of the key criteria to be completely accepted. The elegant restaurant was definitely a large step up from the dingy bars he'd been accustomed to. Now he felt like he was wearing a disguise, terrified that his every day inner turmoil would penetrate the façade of the person he wanted to be. The person he once was.

"Do you want a drink?" Finnick asked, carefully studying his menu.

"No. Not yet," Peeta replied, his attention now focused on the bread placed in the middle of the table.

Finnick set his menu down and glanced at him, "Is this place okay? If you don't like it we can-"

"No. It's fine," he replied reassuringly.

"Everything okay?" He asked with an eyebrow raised.

In many ways, they were still strangers, having only met each other a week earlier, but Peeta knew they had something he wanted so badly. They had somehow found each other, and he knew Finnick was someone he wanted in his life. He could already feel himself improve around him. It seemed that Finnick was a lifeline, a path to take to get back to his old self, free of pain and hardship. He didn't want to let go, or give any reason to be driven away.

"That hostess was all over you," he blurted, unsure of what else to say.

Finnick chuckled and cracked a sly smile, "Doesn't really matter. She's not my type."

"Well what is your type?" Peeta asked, trying his best to avoid sounding desperate or self important, but also dying to know what his intentions really were.

Finnick sat back in his seat and sighed, thinking of his answer, or possibly a witty joke or comment, "Well, I have this thing for short blonde guys who bake bread."

Peeta chuckled and immediately felt at ease.

"What about you?" he asked, "It's funny, I think I have you all figured out, when really I don't know a lot about you."

"You know where I work, where I live and what I drink," Peeta offered, knowing it wouldn't be enough.

The older man looked at him, not willing to speak unless it was to supplement some new information he had been provided. He was afraid to let any part of his real life bubble to the surface, terrified that it would drive him away like it did Cato or his brother. For one night he didn't want to be Peeta Mellark.

"My parents died a while ago. I live with my brother, but we don't really get along anymore," Peeta said in one breath, surprising himself with the ability to cram his life story into a nut shell.

Finnick bit his lower lip, unsure of what to say and regretting the way he coaxed the information out of him. "That really is awful," he said lowly. "I'm sorry to hear that."

He could sense the instant awkwardness settle in, the last thing he wanted. "I'm not some weird little orphan kid with a whole lot of baggage. I'm learning to be normal again," he said with a half smile, offering the smallest of jokes to let him off the hook. The lie felt good.

Finnick smiled at him warmly, reaching his hand across the table and taking his hand into his own, appreciating the way the colour instantly returned to the younger man's face with the smallest of gestures, the slightest touch. A change of subject was long overdue.

His grasp felt supremely good as did the warmth that radiated from his hand. "Are you looking for something serious? I just want to know what this is to you?" Peeta asked, terrified the answer wouldn't be what he wanted to hear but relieved to finally have the weight of the question off his shoulders.

"I like you, and I think about you a lot," Finnick said softly, retracting his hand back to rest on his leg, "But I'm not looking for anything serious."

Peeta immediately felt his heart drop and expertly hid his disappointment with an indifferent nod as if he understood.

"Are you okay with that? I don't want to lead you on."

"It's fine. Just a good time right?" He said, tearing himself away from his emotions. He smiled and picked up his menu, cursing himself for being foolish enough to reveal the hidden truths in his life that may have just played a part in keeping Finnick away.

When Finnick closed the door Peeta was on him, quickly moving and pushing him into the wall to kiss him as his vest slid off his arms and onto the floor. Their lips locked and mouths opened, Peeta heard the sound of the man's belt unbuckle and hit the floor.

When their lips finally parted, Peeta quickly yanked off his tie and began unbuttoning his shirt. Finnick breathed heavily doing the same until they both stood half naked. Without a shirt, Peeta could really feel how cold it was inside. The cold air was only subdued by the feeling of warm skin pressed against his own as Finnick took him into his hold and continued kissing him. Large hands expertly moved for his belt. Once removed, the same warm hands slipped into the back of his pants and caressed the soft, quivering behind gently causing the younger man to groan into his mouth and use his own hands to unzip and drop his pants and underwear around his ankles.

Finnick paused for a moment to take in the sight of the naked younger man, before smiling wickedly and letting Peeta's quick hands do the same to his own pants.

"You sure you wanna do this?" Finnick asked, a note of concern betraying the smile on his face, as if he already knew the answer.

Peeta kissed him quickly as he finished undressing his lover, quickly breaking the kiss and memorizing the sight of the perfectly sculpted man and his beautiful body. "Yeah."

Finnick's apartment was dark. Peeta allowed himself to be taken by the hand and into what he could only assume was his bedroom.

"Get on the bed," Finnick mumbled. He could feel nothing but his immediate arousal as the younger man nodded, assuming the position on his hands and knees. The older man allowed his own hand to wrap around himself momentarily, pleasuring himself at the sight. Peeta craned his neck and watched him expectantly. Finnick quickly slipped out of his underwear, before placing a hand on the smooth ass cheek, rubbing gently, brushing his fingertips back and forth across the quivering flesh.

A gasp escaped his lips and a smile spread across his face as he felt Finnick touch him. When the large hands slowly travelled between his legs his breath caught for a moment as if he were suddenly winded, it wasn't only the sensation of being touched that caused such a reaction, but the unmistakeable sound of Finnick letting out a hushed moan as searching hands reached their destination.

The feeling of the man's warm hand wrapped around him while the other slowly teased the tense muscle with two split slicked fingers, probing gently and carefully was marvellous, reminding him of his first time. Small, infrequent pants issued from his mouth and were the only sounds filling the room for a few minutes, it was all Peeta could do until he couldn't take it anymore, and rolled onto his back, pulling the taller man down on top of him.

Suddenly, and almost out of nowhere, Finnick ravaged him. The larger man pressed all his weight down onto the grinning blonde man as their lips hovered apart for a few moments. Both men stared into each other's eyes, more aroused now that their bodies finally touched in that unmistakable way. Finnick kissed him again, the velvet, wet heat, the taste and the feel of those beautiful lips on him was something Peeta had missed and God, it was exactly what he wanted.

Clinging to the older man as their bodies memorized the feel of one another, Peeta rolled himself on top of Finnick. Their lips finally parted, he sat up and straddled the man's waist. He rather enjoyed this sight, even in the darkness. He rested one hand on Finnick's shoulder as the other moved behind him, feeling the hard length and stroking with a full, tight fist, causing the other man to squirm beneath him. He lowered himself forward until his lips met the spot below Finnick's ear, placing small kisses there.

Finnick groaned through gritted teeth. He could feel the mounting pressure through his body as Peeta simultaneously held him tightly, while slowly pressing the blunt head into his entrance.

"No." Finnick pushed Peeta away. Sitting up slightly, he reached into the bedside drawer. He fumbled for a moment before pulling out a condom, then pressing it into the younger man's hand. For a moment they shared a look, in which Finnick made his thoughts clear.

Peeta rolled the prophylactic onto the man's engorged length before resuming his position between his legs. The pain was there as he sunk himself down, but he pushed it out of his mind, concentrating solely on the sensation of being filled, and the small rushes of pleasure that came from it. He kissed Finnick ferociously, lapping up his tongue and reminding him that for the moment, they were one.

Using his knees, Peeta rocked himself back and forth, loving the sensation of Finnick slowly filling him with each thrust. Peeta let out a moan at a particularly hard thrust. He reached out and took Finnick's hand, lacing their fingers together as he continued to get fucked harder and harder.

Finnick stared into his eyes and held his hand tighter, gaping as Peeta started to fuck himself onto his dick harder and faster. Peeta gasped as he deliberately clenched his ring of muscle around the tight flesh inside of him. He grinned at the expression on the man's face, knowing how badly he wanted to come, Peeta didn't want to let him hold on any longer. He wanted to make the man break.

He was surprised when Finnick clutched him closer, pulling him by the shoulders and staring directly into his eyes. Their foreheads pressed together, they shared the same breath as Finnick groans grew louder and he came, holding Peeta tightly in place and shuddering. He placed a kiss on the younger man's sweaty chest before burying his face in the crook of his neck. With Finnick still inside of him, he let himself fall on top of him.

They remained pressed together for a few minutes as they both regained their breath. Peeta placed small kisses along Finnick's neck before wrapping his arms around him tightly, the chill of the night began to creep back into the apartment.

"You cold?" Finnick asked, pressing his lips against Peeta's.

He nodded with a small grin while Finnick rolled him onto his back and discarded the condom. The bed was warm, so was the feel of the older man's hands, which were currently running down his chest before pulling his legs apart, and taking Peeta into his hand. "Let me know when you're close," Finnick said softly, taking him into his mouth.

Suddenly, he was on fire. The coldness couldn't touch him anymore. He was lost in the warm wetness of Finnick's eager mouth, who took him all at once. There was nothing tentative about his movement, nothing was guesswork. He knew exactly what he was doing.

Peeta moaned as he forced his eyes open and curled his fingers through the thick head of hair that was servicing him. He forced himself to watch Finnick, noting how beautiful he looked like this. He watched how quickly his lips worked around him, he couldn't help feeling pride, knowing that this was as much for Finnick's benefit as it was his own, like the man was hungry for his taste.

"I'm close," he panted in ragged breaths. He watched as Finnick removed him from his mouth, immediately slithering his way up Peeta's torso, stroking his dick furiously. As Finnick's hand continued to work him, his lips teased the hardened muscle in Peeta's stomach before slowly moving all the way up to his neck and continuing his attack there.

Peeta came when their lips finally reunited. Finnick smiled and wiped his hand on the blanket. Purring, he resumed sucking and biting the whimpering man's neck, making sure to leave one or two love bites on his neck and collar bone. His body pressed down onto Peeta, sweaty skin stuck together, heat radiated from both of them. Finnick's hand travelled down to Peeta's navel, slowly running his palm across the sensitive skin. They stared into each other's eyes for a few moments as the older man memorized the feel of his body.

"I'll let you get under the covers in a minute, I just want to kiss you for a bit," Finnick mumbled into his lips, his own red and pouty, all kissed out. He was unable to get enough of him. "You taste so sweet."

Peeta smiled into the kiss. He drifted off to sleep when he felt the warm body occupy the space next to him and pull him into his chest. Finnick buried his face in the blonde locks, breathing in the man's scent deeply before closing his eyes.

Nothing else mattered, all his problems seemed small and insignificant. Finnick was there, holding him and breathing him in. It was all that mattered. He didn't care if Finnick took it seriously or not. For the moment, it was all real to him.