Author's Note: I thought the idea for this chapter would be so easy. I had all the dialogue worked out, I had the structure of the story worked out, I thought it would be so easy to get what was in my head down in writing. It was a lot harder than I had initially thought. For this chapter I wanted to make use of all my established character's, but after having separated my two key players and expanding each of their world's I found it quite challenging to merge those two world's together, you'll see what I mean when you finish the chapter. You'll also see why I'm apologizing if things seem a little off in certain places. I tried to make it flow easily and there are a few parts which I feel were a little to rushed in an effort to get to crux of what this chapter is about. Having said that, I really like the dilemma's that Peeta and Finnick are facing. I like the notion that certain characters want to be responsible for their actions, while more mature character's with seemingly good head's on their shoulder's want to act more selfishly with complete disregard for others.
Sorry, I'm rambling. Enjoy the chapter. I know I say this every time, but I read your reviews and they mean so much to me. Thank you.
Peeta entered his room shaking like a leaf. Wearing only a towel, he quickly moved for his bedroom window and shut it closed to prevent any more of the biting cold air assaulting his padded dry skin. He removed the towel and ran it through his wet blonde hair before letting it fall and stepping over to his dresser to remove some underwear.
He dressed himself in front of the mirror, even in a simple pair of jeans and shirt he paid close attention to his appearance. He was going to meet Finnick and found himself wanting to look good for him. As he scrutinized every possible imperfection in his reflection he continued to make excuses for his actions, reminding himself it was perfectly normal to continue seeking a plutonic relationship with someone he cared for so deeply. He reminded himself there was no fault in his actions or feelings, he simply couldn't throw it all away, not after discovering the ease of every day living after spending a short period of time with Finnick.
But like they always would, hidden truths came to the forefront of his mind. He sat back down on the edge of his bed as he continued staring at his reflection, seeing right through the guise of a content young man.
He wasn't seeking friendship. He knew that. Despite how well he could spin the truth and craft secure excuses, he would always know better. Peeta couldn't lie well enough to actually fool himself into believing them.
Finnick didn't love him. He wasn't that kind of man. Whatever little affection the man could spare was only dispensed privately, but in the most intimate ways. Ways that made Peeta's heart beat faster at the very thought.
It was the same tired question, the same old notion that filled his head. Maybe Finnick could learn to love him. Peeta knew he'd had some deep psychological trauma inflicted on him in the past, but simply couldn't understand how a near death experience could close someone's heart off to the point of it being almost non-existent. Despite his own pain and loss, it was the smallest of comforts to know he still had the will to feel that way for someone. It just wasn't Cato.
"Not yet," he mumbled, reminding himself of the promise he'd made to Cato recently, and the commitment he made to himself to try to reclaim those feelings lost long ago.
It had taken him a short time to move past a dark chapter of his life and the substance abuse that had been heavily featured. Now, he found himself addicted to a new drug, one he thought - or hoped, he was moving past.
He was painfully aware of the fact that he still loved Finnick and felt nothing more than a strong fondness for Cato. Peeta told himself that he would work on his feelings later, sort through the tangled mess later.
Slightly resolved with his actions, and absolutely determined not to lead his logic or feelings play with his heart, Peeta turned for the door, picking up his jacket on the way out and doing his best to quash the nagging voice in his head that reminded him that he was playing with fire.
"Peeta?" Noah called, pushing the door open just as his hand reached for the knob. "Cato is at the door."
Finnick noticed his hand trembling as he buttoned his shirt. The small, involuntary tremor was quite disconcerting to him. He had noticed the rhythmic occurrence only a few times in his life and it was always brought on by an overwhelming sense of stress or fear. He hadn't experienced the muscle contraction in years, not since he'd fired a gun for the first time.
Seeing Peeta made him as nervous and fearful as holding a weapon with the intention to cause harm to something.
He rolled his hand into a fist and ignored his feelings. The same feelings had grown in the past weeks, feelings Finnick had never felt before. They were still new and absolutely confusing to him. In truth, he wasn't sure if he welcomed those feelings or not. To him, Peeta was warm and gentle, solid and loveable with a divine heart. He hated having to break it not once but twice, as much as he hated being incapable of returning his words of love and sealing them with a kiss.
Those words had never been said by him before. If he couldn't say them to Peeta, would he ever be able to say it to anyone?
It was the first time Finnick had asked himself that question. He didn't allow himself to think about that any longer, afraid that he may not like the thoughts that followed it.
Walking back to the bathroom he sprayed a small amount of cologne around his neck. Peeta had once commented on how he liked the smell. He smiled to himself. Over the course of their time together he'd grown fond of the younger man's presence in his life and for the first time Finnick had grown used to what he would normally consider a distraction or unrequited affection. Deep down he knew he wanted it back.
Although he'd stipulated no commitment, Peeta still felt like something of his. He'd given the man absolutely no reason to stay, it was his complete lack of giving that drove him away, but the knowledge that Peeta belonged to someone else made him angry. He had no right to be, but the heart didn't follow logic or reasoning. It wanted what it wanted.
Since their last encounter Finnick had found his thoughts constantly turning back to him more than usual. A memory plucked from nowhere would distract him from his work, cause him to pause mid-sentence during a presentation or important call. He would find his hand reaching for his phone and dialing the number permanently stored in his memory but erased from his phone before snapping himself out of it and forcing himself to wait until their arranged date to meet. Not only was he surprised by the toll the younger man had taken on his life, but he was surprised how much he wanted it back.
A knocking sounded from his front door.
Finnick curiously made his way down the hallway and checked his watch as he passed. If he didn't leave shortly he'd be late. Turning the deadbolt and unlocking the door, he pulled it open and was greeted by a familiar smile, one he'd been avoiding. Johanna stood with her gracious blonde hair flowing down to her shoulders and a cocky grin in place.
"I was wondering when I'd hear from you," she hummed, cocking her head to one side and smiling seductively with her eyes.
Feeling somewhat flustered by her unwanted presence, Finnick took his only known stance when put in a situation he wasn't ready to handle. "What can I say?" he asked, wearing a charming but fake sly grin, "I've been busy."
Johanna rolled her eyes before strolling in, casually glancing around the apartment before turning and setting her eyes on Finnick by the door. "Am I interrupting something?"
Finnick ran a hand through his bronze locks, "I'm about to head out," he replied, crossing his arms impatiently.
A disappointed and slightly embarrassed look flashed across her face, betraying her confident demeanor. "Have you got a date?" she asked.
Her feelings, or sometimes lack there of, confused him. The way the woman would bounce between a beautiful temptress armed with the power to seduce him, to the woman he felt wanted something more was perplexing. She wasn't like Peeta though. Her warmth and tenderness were only a show to others, a guise she masked herself in to the outside world. He had seen her true colors. She wasn't sweet and gentle as he had originally thought her to be, she was cold and rough around the edges which made her real vulnerabilities completely surprising to him. He couldn't help but feel taken off guard by the question.
"C'mon Johanna," he sighed heavily, "You knew what this was."
She nodded impassively, "If this didn't mean anything to you, why have you been sending mixed messages?" she asked with a slight agitation in her voice.
"What mixed messages?" Finnick asked incredulously, resisting the urge to check his watch.
She shook her head, "I really don't understand you," she barked as she moved for the door. "You call me, ask me to dinner, take me out, then make me feel like I'm a crazy stalker bitch because you have a date."
"It's not like that," Finnick stammered as he asked himself why he wouldn't just let it go. "I'm sorry if I lead you on-"
She pushed past him on her way out the door, her shoes clicking loudly on the wooden floor surface sounding as furious as she was. She turned once, shooting him a look that made him feel small and hated.
"You really are an asshole, Finnick," she snarled, glaring at him with complete and utter disgust. "I feel sorry for whoever has the misfortune of your company tonight."
As she slammed the door shut behind her, Finnick hung his head in shame. His face burned red with embarrassment and his pulse continued to beat harder. After everything, he was just so tired or being a bad guy who hurt people. Johanna was hardly the first person to stomp through his apartment, hurling words laced with anger and fury, and he couldn't help but wonder if she would be the last.
He knew he didn't want to break any more hearts. He took a moment to shake the ordeal off before taking his jacket and making his way out the door.
Once again Finnick found himself in the regular seat at the bar he liked to think was their place since the first night he had laid eyes on the beautiful young man sitting in the seat opposite him. His hand twitched once again, he could tell he was growing to be more and more anxious with each passing minute of anticipation of seeing Peeta again, only now it was different.
Finnick was alarmed to find himself intimidated and nervous now that he wasn't allowed to say the things he wanted to, to touch Peeta the way he wanted to, the way he used to.
He turned in his seat when a familiar voice filled his ears. Finnick was appalled to see the large man with him. He was saying something under his breathe with a large grin on his face. Whatever it was made Peeta laugh as they closed the gap between the entrance of and the bar at the back where Finnick waited, watching in confusion.
"Finnick," Peeta greeted with a large grin on his face, "This is Cato."
The taller man extended a greeting hand with a raised eyebrow, "Nice to meet you, man."
Without thinking, Finnick rose from his seat and accepted the handshake, sure to squeeze much tighter than the offering hand. "You too."
Suddenly an awkward silence set in amongst the three men who now stood huddled together in the quiet bar. Peeta opened his mouth to speak before Cato spoke up.
"Where's the bathroom in this place?" he asked, pulling off his coat and placing it on one of the stools next to Finnick.
"At the back," Finnick said without hesitation, eying a brief moment in which he could be alone with Peeta.
Cato smiled at the small blonde man and nodded, "Be right back."
Both men waited a quick moment as they were left alone. Finnick immediately looked to Peeta for an answer, a reason to explain the man's unwanted presence. Peeta in turn looked after the man looking for the bathroom.
"Well," Finnick muttered, "This sure is a surprising turn of events."
"Sorry," sighed the younger man, rubbing the back of his neck and looking at him apologetically. "He caught me on my way out, I guess he was planning to come over tonight."
Finnick took his place at his stool as he removed the jacket and placed it on the seat to his right so he could sit next to the man he wanted to and not have his view obscured by the large man preoccupied in the bathroom.
"I know it's weird," Peeta said, taking a seat, "But he's going to be around from now on and-"
"-Did you ever consider that maybe I didn't want him around?" he interrupted with composed tone, "I'm still kind of trying to get my head around this whole thing."
Peeta nodded. He was sympathetic to the clearly masked hurt behind Finnick's eyes. It was the kind of observation only he could see. "It wasn't my intention to parade him around in front of you. I was going to cancel."
"Why didn't you?" he asked.
Peeta was still for a moment, "I really wanted to see you tonight," he replied before opening his mouth to speak on but deciding against it.
"What?" Finnick asked, observing the hesitation in the young man's expression.
"If you want to be part of my life you're going to have to accept him," Peeta sighed, his eyes darting over his shoulder to check on Cato's whereabouts.
Finnick nodded as his eyes stared into Peeta's blue ones. "I know, it's just that you could have made an excuse-"
"-An excuse?" Peeta looked at him disappointingly. "You mean lie to him?"
He could hear the accusation in the words and what they implied, he didn't care. "Would that have been so wrong? We're friends right?"
Peeta shook his head, "It's not the point. I can't start off lying to him and coming to meet you. You know as well as I do that what we're doing here isn't good."
"I don't care whether it's good or not," Finnick sighed, "As long as I know it's good for us. I don't care if it makes me a selfish asshole."
"And what about the people we hurt in the process?" Peeta asked quietly, looking over his shoulder once again.
"We're not hurting anyone." Finnick looked down at his almost empty glass before raising it and finishing the last of it's contents. "Besides, judging by his warm reception, I can only assume you left out a large chunk of our history and told him we were friends."
Looking uneasy, Peeta shifted in his chair as the unspoken truth caught up to him and the realization that the lies had already started becoming all too clear to him. A look of sadness passed over his face.
Finnick felt the familiar sting of the pain his inconsiderate words inflicted. It may have been something he had realized himself, but he wished he'd left Peeta in blissful ignorance of the knowledge that he'd already lied to Cato.
"Peeta, listen," Finnick sighed, "Our history is just that, it's history." He spoke soothingly, daring the move and placing a hand on the smaller man's back for a moment. "It doesn't matter anymore. We have a good time hanging out together, let's just leave it at that."
Peeta nodded but didn't reply. Instead he looked up and gave the older man a grateful smile, thankful for an excuse to bail him out of his guilt.
Two large hands suddenly slapped each man's back as Cato quickly returned with an upbeat energy and chipper smile in place. "So? What are we drinking?" he asked with a laugh, "First round is on me."
"You didn't drink anything tonight," Finnick remarked to Peeta as his eyes glanced in the rear view mirror, watching Cato slump over across two seats looking dangerously close to being sick as he slipped in and out of sleep. He flexed his hands tightly around the steering wheel as he stopped the car at the set of lights.
"Trying to cut back," Peeta said in a hushed tone as he too turned around to check on the large man in the back seat. "Alcohol has a tendency to fuel my bad decision making."
Finnick nodded and turned his head to look at him, clenching his jaw as he noticed how Peeta observed Cato with such care and concern. "I'm really happy to hear that, I'm really glad things are getting better for you."
Peeta turned to him and smiled a little weakly, "Me too."
It was true and he couldn't have been happier to see that Peeta had finally found a way to put the pain and hurt of the past year behind him, but Finnick couldn't allow himself to feel as happy as he wanted to. He wanted to be the reason Peeta was happy. The knowledge that the young man had finally found some peace in a man like Cato who Finnick saw as nothing more than a loud, insufferable, drunken idiot made him seethe. The entire night had been spent mainly listening to Cato's many stories and ramblings as Finnick watched Peeta's every move, observing how the smaller man clung on to every word and gesture, laughed at his jokes and supplied his own anecdotes about their history together.
Eventually the time had come when Cato inquired about their relationship, one he was made to believe was simply that of friendship. Peeta nervously looked to him with a pleading look before Finnick retold the story of how they met months earlier and how they'd remained the closest of friends, neglecting to mention the times they'd kissed, made love and hurt each other.
It didn't matter to Finnick anyway. It was obvious what kind of man Cato was with every passing minute as the night wore on and the man became more and more inebriated, finally reaching a point at which time Finnick believed if he were to speak the truth of his relationship with Peeta, it would all fall on deaf, drunken ears.
By the time midnight approached, Finnick decided to call it a night, offering to drive the two young men home in the process.
"So where am I driving you?" Finnick asked as the red light turned to green and the car continued to move. "Back to your place?"
Peeta shook his head, "No. Noah would kill me if I brought him back like this." Once again he turned in his seat to check on Cato, only this time it wasn't out of concern for his well being, it was to make sure he was asleep. After a brief hesitation, he looked to Finnick again. "I'm sorry to have to ask you this, but can we crash at your place?" he asked softly.
The request took him by surprise, he wasn't sure how to respond. He didn't want Cato in his home, but he didn't want him alone with Peeta either. "Yeah sure," Finnick said quietly.
I've got asprin in the bathroom. He's going to need it in the morning. Finnick crossed his arms and watched as Cato threw himself on the large couch.
Peeta laughed, "Tomorrow morning should be interesting," he said, pulling Cato's shoes off and helping the tall man out of his jacket.
"Turn off the light," Cato muttered, hiding his face in the crook of his arm to shield his eyes from the dim glare.
Both men laughed, unable to keep quiet despite the angry protests coming from the heavily inebriated man. Finnick turned off the light and chuckled at the sound of snoring coming from Cato's mouth who had clearly decided to pass out again. Unable to see in the dark, Peeta banged his shin on the edge of the coffee table, letting out a string of curses, much to the older man's amusement resulting in another round of hushed laughter as the two of them made their way to Finnick's bedroom.
Peeta sat on the edge of the bed, trying his best to suppress the knowledge that he was once again in Finnick's apartment, in his room, on his bed while his drunken lover peacefully slept in the next room, completely unaware of the past Peeta and Finnick shared.
"I can take the floor if you want," Finnick suggested, closing the door and turning the light on.
Peeta hesitated for a moment, "No, it's okay."
Finnick moved for the bed. Peeta watched the man take off his watch and set it by the lamp. Unsure of whether to look away or not, he watched the man unbutton his shirt through the corner of his eye, recognizing the same toned body and muscular arms that once wrapped around him and pulled him in tightly as they slept.
"Do you want to change clothes?" Finnick asked, eyeing him up and down, "You're not really going to sleep in those are you?"
Peeta glanced down at his apparel, already finding the task of sleeping in the uncomfortable clothing daunting. "Yeah, thanks."
As he rose off the bed and to the dresser, he caught a glimpse of Finnick dropping his pants to the ground, leaving him partially dressed in a pair of boxers. Peeta felt nervous, he could hear his breathing get heavier as he opened the drawer and pulled out a pair of grey sweats and one of the blue shirts that Finnick slept in.
He turned and saw Finnick settling into his bed. Peeta turned the light off before unbuttoning his shirt. He thought about Cato and the questions that would be asked if he were to ever find out about them. He wondered what his answer would be if he was asked if anything happened between he and Finnick the night the two of them stayed in his apartment.
The blue shirt felt supremely comfortable while the pants were slightly loose on him. Peeta couldn't tell if it was the man in the bed or the shirt, but Finnick smelt as good as he remembered. As he slipped into the bed, under the covers, he felt the warmth radiating from the body beside him in the darkness. He closed his eyes and allotted himself a single moment to pretend it was all real again, the way he used to in the past when it wasn't real. When the moment passed, he rolled onto his side with his back facing the taller shape. He sighed softly and thought about Cato.
A short lapse of silence passed through the room. Peeta closed his eyes, unable to find the sleep he wanted. His heart pounded faster in his chest by the silent breathing he heard behind him.
"You asleep?" Finnick whispered.
His instinct was to keep his eyes closed and feign sleep, but he knew the man would see right through it. "Not really," he whispered back.
The larger frame moved in closer to his still body. "Does he make you happy?"
The question startled Peeta enough to roll over, keeping to his side of the bed. "Don't do this," Peeta replied in a hushed tone.
"What?"
"You know what."
Peeta could almost hear the desperation in Finnick's voice, carefully hidden behind assertiveness. "You're not an idiot, Peeta. You can't tell me you didn't know this would happen."
Afraid of where the conversation was leading, he pulled the sheets off his body and sat up in the bed, but not before Finnick's hands found his shoulders and pulled his entire body into his own.
Peeta groaned into the kiss and found his body involuntarily bucking into Finnick's. He was beyond justifying it as a simple moment of weakness. He opened his mouth wider to let the man's tongue enter. He wanted it, quickly finding himself returning the kiss. God, how he wanted it.
Finnick broke their kiss and straddled his waist, his large hands quickly worked their way underneath the younger man's shirt. He made no attempts at hiding his heated hardness as he pressed in on his crotch with his own.
Peeta's mind raced back and forth between what to do. He knew he should stop it, that it was wrong, but the feeling of the man on top of him, his hands and his lips quickly silenced his inner protests. As their lips met again and tongues searched eager mouths, he gave himself over to the man he still desired, unable to resist his touch.
When he felt Finnick's hand drift down beneath the band of his sweat pants he gasped and tried to pull away, "We can't," he panted, backing up.
"Yes we can," whispered Finnick, removing his hand and moving in to kiss him again. "Tell me you don't want this and I'll stop."
With more force, he continued kissing Peeta as he arched his back and his lips traveled down to his neck, sucking and kissing lightly. He felt Peeta's hands wrap around his hips, pulling him in closer. He took his own hand and began to pull down his boxers, enjoying the feel of the younger man whimpering in pleasure beneath him.
Peeta shook his head as the realization of his actions settled in, "I can't do this to him."
"Fuck him," Finnick hissed with frustration, "Is he really what you want? A drunk dickhead Neanderthal who's only purpose in life is to start fights and act like a brute?"
"Better him than an asshole who only wants to get laid," Peeta muttered in anger, "Get off me."
Finnick felt Peeta push him off his frame and quickly pulled up his boxers. He sat up in the bed, clicking on the lamp and watching the anger boil in the younger man's blue eyes.
"Peeta," he said softly, reaching his hand out to touch the man's knee, only to have it smacked away as Peeta sat up and glared at him in anger.
"I'm sorry, but I'm not sorry," Finnick said quietly, "Come back to me, please. You can end things with him, I won't hurt you again-"
"All you ever do is hurt people, Finnick," Peeta hissed, "You don't care about who you hurt as long as you get your way. You don't care about anyone besides yourself. What's worse, when I'm around you I feel more selfish. I don't like who I am around you."
"No. You're much better with him. He took such great care of you last time didn't he?" Finnick scoffed and looked away.
Peeta was silent for a moment. It was all he could do from stopping his acid tongue from spreading more hurtful words. "I don't need anyone to take care of me anymore. He cares about me, he loves me. You only want me so he can't have me."
"That's such a load of shit, Peeta," Finnick snarled, his voice raising a little too loud for either man's liking. "God damnit, I-"
"-I can't be here," Peeta interrupted, standing and moving for the pile of clothes that lay by the dresser, completely unaware of the hardness in his pants. He rose off the bed and turned the light on, gathering his items quickly, forgetting his jacket. "I can't see you anymore."
Finnick faced the wall, bringing one of his knees up to his chin, hurt and devastated, "What do I do without you?"
Peeta shook his head, wondering if the man would look at him, "I don't care," he replied quietly before opening the door and closing it shut behind him.
He moved quickly down the hallway and to the lounge room where he flicked on the light that immediately shone too brightly and caused Cato to stir. Peeta knelt down by his side, shaking him firmly, "Get up, we're going."
"What?" Cato slurred, opening his eyes and looking baffled by his surroundings for a moment before lifting his tired head and looking at the desperation in Peeta's eyes. "What happened to your clothes?"
"Nothing," Peeta snapped in response, "Get up. We're going back to my place."
Peeta helped the man up, frustrated by the time it was taking them to make a speedy exit. As Cato pulled his shoes on Peeta heard the sound of Finnick opening his door, watching him. He turned and the two men stared each other down. Peeta broke the stare as Cato rose off the couch and the two men moved for the door.
Peeta turned once more to look at him, he couldn't believe that he was in the same situation again. Without a word he pulled the door closed behind him.