Author's Note: Thanks again for your lovely reviews. Just a short chapter. This was originally much longer until I realized I was telling the story too fast and needed to pace myself a little bit. I plan to open this story up a bit with other characters, but for the time being I'm having a blast writing between this pairing. I was going for something between angst and romance, I hope it works for you.
I'm already 3k into my next chapter, so I'll hopefully have it up within a week. Thanks readers.
He walked down the cold, dead street. As he passed by the various brownstones and townhouses an ice cold chill ran through his body, forcing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand to attention. "Maybe this is a bad idea," he thought to himself, attempting such a bold move this early on could only go two ways. He'd either look brave and romantic, or clingy and needy. As he continued to huff down the street, he knew Finnick would see him as the latter. What else could he do? He had never felt this way - desired and unwanted, a tricky grey area to be placed in.
He made his way down the alley. The ladder to the fire escape had been dragged up and returned to it's place covering the void in the exit of the steel frame. He thought for a second, before simply jumping vertically, his arms swinging for the handle, attempting to pull the ladder down, only to miss and stumble forward upon landing.
He'd never felt more humiliated, desperate… and short. At that moment his face burned red and Peeta couldn't help but look around and make sure no one had witnessed it, he reminded himself that such an act made him weak, that the other man didn't want to see him now - maybe not at all given the way Finnick had been seemingly keeping his distance over the past few weeks, but the wanting to be close to man, the man inside that building on that lonely Saturday night was too much to bear.
It took two more attempts before Peeta successfully managed to grip the pull down ladder, lowing the lower rung to his knees. It didn't occur to him how shaky and clangy the stairs would be. He was out of breath by the time he reached the third level of the exterior metal staircase.
Peeta immediately recognised the interior, almost entirely pitch black. His heart leapt at the sight of the large bed against the far wall to the right, a pale, long form bathed in the bright moonlight. Finnick. Of course he was the type of person to carelessly leave such an open invitation to any would-be intruder. Whether the man was encouraging one, or simply indifferent or unafraid, he didn't know.
Would Finnick try to hurt him? Mistaking him for a burglar, or someone wishing to harm him? He was not a man Peeta felt safe startling, especially not at 1am.
Swallowing the lump in his throat and pushing away the fear in his gut, he carefully lifted a leg over the window frame, while simultaneously keeping his eyes peeled, careful not to make any sudden movements or noises as he made his way inside.
The feelings of fear and tension started to melt away, quickly being replaced by butterflies as he silently kicked off his shoes and walked over to the bed.
Finnick laid there, sleeping soundly, forcing the butterflies to flutter in the pit of his stomach. Peeta noted the way his bronze hair hung on his forehead, his perfect square jaw twitching ever so slightly. He smiled as he watched the man's well toned, bare chest rise and fall with each breath, his right arm laying above his head, revealing a patch of hair beneath the muscular arm, the other lay by his side. There was only one thing Peeta desired more than feeling those strong arms around him again, the feel of the man's full lips pressed against his own.
He was so beautiful.
Peeta removed his socks, as he removed his jacket and shirt, he felt the chill of the night breeze flowing through the room, assaulting his half naked body, making him shiver.
He kneeled down by the low bed, resting a hand on the mattress, facing the sleeping man, resisting the urge to run his fingers through the full head of hair. He exhaled slowly, summoning the courage to slowly whisper "Finnick."
Two large green cat eyes slowly opened, widening for a split second before remaining on a stare that saw right through the younger man. Peeta's lips parted, but no words came, no explanation providing a reason for his uninvited, unrequited presence at such an hour. His eyebrows furrowed, as if he started to process what exactly he was seeing in the moonlight. "Peeta?" he said in an angry and exasperated tone. "What the hell are you doing here?" Finnick sat up in his bed quickly, suddenly looking angrier, more furious with each passing second.
The blonde man gaped, terrified of this reaction, yet never really expecting it. Once again, his mouth opened, only for nothing more than a stammer coming out. He stood up quickly, taking a couple of steps back, almost stumbling backward.
The older man looked at him, demanding an answer, cocking his jaw and rubbing his eyes angrily. He leaned to his side to turn on the lamp by his bed, filling the room with a dim light. Peeta was almost trembling with embarrassment.
"Sorry," Peeta mumbled, eyeing the window, hating himself for having no common sense, and wishing for a quick retreat. "I'll go. I'm sorry."
Peeta's movement was quick, almost erratic, as if he didn't know what he was trying to do. He was suddenly aware of his own half dressed form. As he bent down to the floor to retrieve his black shirt, Finnick lunged forward from his bed, gripping him by the arm with both hands, hauling him onto the end of the bed.
"Why are you here?" Finnick snapped in a hushed tone, into his ear, releasing one of his hands, keeping the other firmly clamped on the smaller man's arm.
Peeta shrugged, shivering at the feel of the man's warm breathe on his neck, "I wanted to see you. It seemed like a good idea…"
He placed his hand on the back of Peeta's neck, squeezing lightly. "Everything seems like a good idea when you don't think anything through," he growled, using his free hand to shove the younger man in the shoulder. "You're eighteen. You're supposed to be old enough to know better than to pull this shit."
He felt the hope drain out of him as quickly as it flourished moments earlier. Now he knew this was over. If they had any chance of being anything, it was done. He felt the pressure of his neck ease up. "You're right," Peeta said quietly with a nod, feeling the shame burn up once more. Again, he rose to his feet.
"What did you think was going to happen, Peeta?" Finnick asked with a sigh, running a hand through his thick hair, rubbing his tired eyes.
He reached for his socks, before finally turning and facing the older man, "I thought you'd want me."
The words seemed to stop the ones slowly escaping Finnick's mouth, forcing him to consider them. He stared up at Peeta for a while, weighing his decision, but saying nothing.
"Sorry again," Peeta mumbled as he pulled his shirt over his head, making his way for the exit.
He frowned, watching the man, upset to have hurt him. "Come here," he said, aware of the tiny pang of remorse in his voice. He swung his legs off the bed and sat on the end, watching as Peeta slowly made his way back over. He frowned as the younger man stood before him. "I'm not used to this."
"What?" Peeta asked, sitting on the bed beside him, dropping his hands in his lap.
Finnick stared at him for a moment, "I care about you, Peeta. But you need to know that this is what it is."
The younger man clenched his jaw, "What is this?" he asked, knowing the answer already.
"Do I really have to say it?" He asked, that same note of frustration lingering in his question. "You can't just sneak over here whenever you feel like it. There have to be some boundaries. You and I aren't-"
"-I know." Peeta cut him off, hating the man but dying for his affection all at once.
Finnick leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, not wanting his affection to be mistaken for something deeper, but unable to resist him. "I understand if you want to call this off. I won't blame you."
"Do you want me to call this off?" Peeta asked, staring at the ground and feeling the kiss on his cheek burn into his skin.
Finnick shook his head. "No. I really don't."
The older man's words didn't do much to console his wounded heart. But at that point, he had to take what he could get.
"At least tell me why?" Peeta asked.
Finnick remained quiet for a moment as the question hung over his head. He wasn't sure if he really had an answer, and he certainly didn't want to tell him that having him around constantly, or letting him into his life the way he wanted to would only make him resent the younger man.
"I don't want to be responsible for making you happy when I can't even make myself happy. I know I won't be able to give you what you want, and you'll only end up hating me for it," Finnick said softly. "Despite what you think, I've got a whole list of shit to work out. I guess that makes me fucked up."
"No you're not," he muttered bitterly, "You're perfect."
He let out a laughed grunt, only to be met by piercing blue eyes, wanting something more. "I don't want to lose you. But I can't give you what you want."
"Is there someone else?" Peeta asked.
"No." The truth was there really wasn't. For a moment he debated as to wether or not he should come clean about the others, but decided not to. The young man was already upset.
"Okay." Peeta stood up and crossed his arms, debating his next course of action for a moment. He didn't know if he wanted to stay or go, instead he followed his heart and disrobed before leaning in and crawling into Finnick's bed again.
Finnick rested his tired forehead on Peeta's bare shoulder, smiling at the feeling of the warmth and smoothness of his soft skin. "Are you sure you'll be okay with this?"
"If I can't have what I want, then I'll take what I can get," Peeta replied in a hushed tone, stroking his hand through Finnick's bronze hair, closing his eyes as full lips kissed his chest.
Finnick let Peeta push him onto his back and straddle his thighs. He pretended not to see the pang of hurt in the big blue eyes that looked into his own. He knew the young man had just sacrificed his happiness to be with him. Finnick had never felt more selfish. He now knew that Peeta would do anything for him, give him whatever he asked while reluctantly accepting he would never receive anything in return.
He finally understood how deep Peeta's feelings for him were, even after all of his warnings and hesitation the young man still wanted to be with him.
Peeta wanted to pretend. The older man knew that. Finnick had taken so much from him, it only seemed fair to play along.
That night he let Peeta whisper things in his ear, things they both knew weren't true and never would be. Finnick nodded along and didn't dispute a word, he never would. Even though it terrified him, he found himself smiling when certain words would come from Peeta's lips. He would never act on them, he would never be the kind of man to really let someone into his heart, but that night it felt good to pretend.
As Peeta laid in his bed, he wondered what he had really lost. He never really had Finnick in the first place even though for a while it felt he did. Could he lose something he never really had? Furthermore, if he couldn't lose what he didn't have, why did it hurt so much to be without him?
He knew why. He just didn't want to think it. It hurt too much.
He was determined not to wallow in sadness or feel sorry for himself, but there was a limit to how much he could take. His parents, his love, his brother and now Finnick. People had a tendency to disappear from his life, taking his heart with them. He wondered if it would ever really heal. Maybe Finnick had the right idea after all. If he didn't let anyone close, no one could hurt him. At that point, he wondered if he ever would find someone to love him the way he wanted?
Whenever he stopped thinking, Finnick's words would play over in his head. Telling him he they couldn't be together, that it wouldn't happen. It wouldn't stop hurting.
What was he expected to settle for? He didn't want to be a casual partner to come and go from Finnick's bed. He wanted more than that. It was all he'd wanted since they met. He wanted to take Finnick up on his offer and call their little affair off, he wanted to move on with his life and take his dignity with him. Of course, the part of him that cared about the older man wouldn't allow that. He figured it was better to be with him for the sake of relief, then not at all.
Something, anything, was better than nothing. Wasn't it?
He didn't want to answer his own question. Either way he wouldn't like the answer, and he wouldn't have Finnick.
He closed his eyes and fell asleep.
Hours later he was ripped from his sleep by the obnoxious sound of his phone ringing. Without opening his eyes he reached for the phone by his side and accepted the call.
"Hello?" he mumbled.
"Were you sleeping?" Finnick asked casually.
He opened his eyes and sat right up, immediately pulled awake by the voice on the other end of the line. "What's the time?" he asked as his eyes darted around the dark room.
"Just after 11. I thought you'd still be up," he said with a sigh, as if unsure of what to say.
A few moments of silence passed. Peeta could already feel the new familiar awkwardness setting it's way in. It was strange how uncomfortable he was to even talk to the man now.
"Go to your window," Finnick instructed.
His weariness didn't allow much room for thought. He kept the phone to his ear as he rose from his bed and made his way over to the window. Outside the wind blew slowly causing some of the branches on the large oak tree to sway lightly. It wasn't until he leaned over the window sill that he saw Finnick looking up at him.
Despite everything that had happened, he smiled. "What exactly had you planned here?" he asked into the phone, not wanting to be too loud.
Finnick shrugged and smiled. "It certainly wasn't meant to be a romantic gesture."
"So what's your next move?" he asked slyly.
"Working on it," Finnick replied, eying the large white latticework structure that was once had flowers weaved between it's crisscross framework. It led from the flowerbed up to the window. "Is this trellis safe?"
"How do you think I'm easily able to sneak in and out undetected."
Finnick nodded and hung up. Peeta watched as he cautiously eyed the wooden frame. He took a firm hold of the white wood and tried shaking it. Once he was convinced of it's stability, he began to ascend. His weight caused the wood to creak, much to the younger man's amusement. Peeta watched him as the familiar hope he once had started to rise inside of him despite his protests.
When he finally reached the top, he slipped in through the small window, stumbling as his foot caught on the bottom of the frame.
"Sorry I can't be as stealthy as you," Finnick chuckled, straightening himself up.
Peeta turned on the lamp by his bed, illuminating the small bedroom. Finnick put his hands in his pocket and Peeta was surprised to notice how nervous the man was. Still tired, he rested his head on Finnick's shoulder, smiling into him when he felt the familiar warmth embrace him.
Finnick laid him down in his bed before pulling his shirt over his head and crawling in with him. Peeta turned off the light and pulled the sheets up high, covering both bodies huddled in the small bed. He felt Finnick's lips on the nape of his neck, nuzzling gently and filling his ear with warm breath.
"Damnit, Peeta," Finnick whispered, wrapping his arms around the younger man's middle and pulling him closer and tighter. "What are you doing to me?"
Peeta rolled over so they were face to face. He pressed a long chaste kiss on Finnick's full lips before sighing softly. He nestled his face in the crook of the man's neck, pressing his lips into the soft skin. "You still haven't told me why you came here," he said with a yawn.
"I wanted to see you," Finnick said quietly with drowsiness filling his voice.
He smiled at that. When he felt the larger arms pull him in tighter, he wrapped his own around Finnick's neck. "I'm glad you're here."
Finnick's soothing fingers stroked his hair delicately, "You're in love with me aren't you?"
The question pulled him from his half sleep state immediately. His head told him to lie. Denying him seemed logical. His feelings however, were less logical. "Yes," he said quietly before closing his eyes and resting his face in the crook of Finnick's neck.
The admission was hardly a surprise to him, nether the less he placed a kiss into the blonde hair. "I'm not a good guy."
"I know." Peeta closed his eyes and could only hope that sleep would find him soon.