A/N: It's MONDAY! Hahahaha! Oh man, guys, I've been sick ever since Thursday. Thankfully I have a few pre-written chapters and I have enough written for before my Christmas hiatus which will begin on Tuesday the 16th of December probably till after New Year's :)

Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games. I apologize for any typos that I missed due to my sickness :D

Chapter Six

Peeta sat in the waiting room to Cato's office patiently, his foot propped up on the edge of the cushion and his chin pressed to his knee. It was a Wednesday afternoon, a time he wasn't obliged to spend with Cato, but he had actually been sent to the Capitol Building again by Abernathy to extend the paper's gratitude for Cato's generous giving of time. His satchel sat beside him, the strap across his chest like a leather stripe.

"Mr. Hadley will see you now," Cato's PA (Peeta learned his name was Marvel) suddenly said, surprising Peeta out of his dream like state.

Peeta stood up and smiled at Marvel in thanks before entering Cato's office. He wondered whether Marvel was able to see through him, able to tell that he was his boss' Submissive; his whore; his sex toy. As irrational as the fear seemed, it felt all too real in Peeta's eyes. He wasn't fond of the idea of Cato's PA knowing what they got up to. But then again he was just being paranoid, Marvel probably knew nothing.

As soon as he stepped into Cato's office and the door was shut behind him, Peeta stood on a loose lace and stumbled. He was unable to gain his balance and landed on his hands and knees on Cato's carpet. His cheeks flamed in complete mortification and he prayed that Cato didn't see. However, when he looked up and peered over the back of the couch in which he had landed behind, Cato sat at his desk, eyebrow quirked in amusement and mouth curled in that sexy smirk of his.

"Getting started without me?" Cato teased.

Peeta scoffed and stood up, adjusting his satchel strap so the bag itself rested comfortably on his hip. "I need new sneakers," he muttered, almost to himself.

"Either that or you need to learn how to tie your shoelaces properly," Cato corrected.

Peeta stuffed the loose lace into the side of his green converse and weaved around the couch to stand between it and the coffee table. When he met Cato's eyes, the seductive dark green made his backside twinge in pain, a reminder of his place in the relationship. Cato gave Peeta a once over. He did this painfully slowly and this alone made Peeta's body react unfairly. The hair at the back of his neck stood up and his nipples twinged, just like his ass had done. God, how could one mad have such an effect on him?

"Uh, I've been, um, sent by Mr. Abernathy to extend our thanks from one cooperation to another for using some of your time to provide us with an interview," Peeta said, taking his words directly from what Haymitch told him to say. "We know you are a very busy man and cannot express enough how much we appreciate your generosity to District News." Peeta scratched the back of his head. "And, uh, yeah."

"You sound very professional, Peeta Mellark," Cato said, leaning back in his seat and threading his fingers together on his stomach.

"We didn't think you expected any less," Peeta replied.

"How's your ass holding out?"

"Hurts like a bitch but the pain is fading."

Cato grinned. "Been thinking of me?"

"Every time I sit down, sir," Peeta said. For some reason he couldn't explain, he knew when to say 'sir' and when they were just in casual circumstances. It just came naturally to him.

This answer definitely pleased Cato. "Good to hear," he said. "How's your mother?"

"Good, sir," Peeta replied. "She practically lives in her bedroom now but as long as she's okay then I am too. Katniss is with her right now, probably forcing the latest tabloids down her throat."

"Katniss? As in your ex Katniss?" Cato frowned.

"Yeah, her and my mother got along so well when we were dating that they still keep in touch now. I thought it would be weird but it's actually not," Peeta explained. "Katniss is a good friend. I couldn't ask for much more."

"So you're best friends with your ex?" Cato said slowly.

"Yes, sir," Peeta replied. "I know it probably sounds strange but we parted on such good terms that we're still good friends. Katniss didn't blame me for being who I am. In fact, she welcomed it. She claimed that she preferred it over my avoiding her advances because I thought she was ugly. Which she isn't. She's a very attractive girl. Any guy would be lucky to have her."

Cato tapped the end of his pen against the side of his desk. There was something Peeta couldn't read in his eyes, something he didn't recognize. "Do sit down, you're making me feel on edge," Cato muttered. Peeta sat down on the couch, pulling his satchel up and letting it rest beside him on the cushions. It tilted heavily to the side, the contents unbalancing it.

"I can't help but feeling like there's something wrong," Peeta said. "Oh, ah, sir."

"I'm just trying to wrap my head around a few things," Cato responded. Without any more elaboration, he changed the subject. "Do you have anywhere to be?" he asked.

"No," Peeta replied. "Not anywhere important, anyway. Why?" He suddenly worried that Cato was going to want them to create a scene here, in his office, in a public building. Despite his pledge of obedience, Peeta considered putting 'public sex' in the limits Cato had discussed with him. He wasn't prepared to do it in an area where someone could easily walk in and catch them.

Cato saw the panic in the younger boy's eyes and sighed. "Is it hard for you to believe that I just wish to enjoy the pleasure of your company?" he asked.

Peeta shrugged, feeling a little foolish for immediately jumping to the worst-case-scenario. "I don't know. I always thought I was boring."

"Why do you think your friends like you then?"

"Uh, well, Katniss is my ex and Delly and I have been friends since pre-k," Peeta answered. His pre-k years didn't contain the best of memories. Since he didn't learn English until he was five, he spent an entire year in pre-k having no idea what was going on. Delly was in his second year of the preschool (he had to spend two years in preschool because he was born in July) and was the only one who spoke to him. Thankfully he knew a couple of phrases by then and was even able to teach her a couple of Irish phrases.

"No-one else?" asked Cato.

"My time is usually divided between work and caring for my mother," Peeta said. "I have small intervals like weekends where I am free but there isn't much opportunity to meet anyone new."

"Don't you get lonely? You don't seem to have any male figures in your life," Cato frowned.

"I don't need any," Peeta said. When Cato raised his eyebrows, he backtracked. "Apart from you, ah, sir."

Cato, pleased with Peeta's correction, threw his pen onto his desk and crossed his ankles. "I want to get to know you better, Peeta Mellark," he said. "I'm not a moron, I know you've been holding back things." Peeta's eyebrows drew together in confusion. What did Cato mean? "We'll start easy, what part of Ireland are your ancestors from?"

"County Antrim, sir," Peeta answered. "It's in the North. They don't normally speak Irish there but they were from the country, not the city." What did his ancestors have to do with anything?

"Have you ever been to Ireland?"

"No, sir. I haven't had the money."

Cato smiled to himself, as if remembering something. "I have. It's a beautiful country."

"Uh-huh. If you don't mind my asking, how is this relevant?" Peeta asked.

"They're just questions. I'm being curious," Cato answered.

Peeta chewed on his bottom lip thoughtfully. "Don't you know what curiosity did to the cat, sir?"

"It killed it, I'm aware," said Cato. "But the walls that you have built around yourself are killing me."

"I haven't built anything. I'm an open book. Please feel free to read me," Peeta replied. He wasn't sure what Cato believed he was hiding, but whatever it was, he sure as hell couldn't find it either. "Twenty one years of pure, unadulterated monotony."

Cato quirked an eyebrow. He seemed to have this idea that Peeta was pretending that his life was boring to hide some big secret. Peeta didn't know how he was supposed to express to his owner that he really was being honest. Nothing interesting ever happened to him, it was like a rule or something.

"Everyone has an extraordinary tale to tell," Cato finally said. "They just don't know how to tell it right." Peeta was about to answer when Cato's phone buzzed. Cato jabbed his finger down on the red button and the speaker fizzled to life. "What is it, Marvel?"

"Miss. Rapture is here with the progress reports," Marvel's voice came through saying.

Cato sighed heavily. "Better let her in then."

Peeta only wondered for ten seconds why Cato was so reluctant as this was the time it took for Miss. Rapture to enter the room and make her way into his perpetual vision. She had long, blonde hair that swirled down her back in a waterfall of curls, big brown eyes and a well-rounded face. She wore a dress shirt that was too small for her and a tight pencil skirt that ended above her knees. The worst thing, however, was her chest. It was huge. When she walked, it seemed to be that she was thrusting it out even more, as if her breasts weren't big enough.

When Peeta glanced back at Cato, after staring in shock at the skimpy Barbie, he was surprised to find that the older man was still staring at him instead of her. "Thank you, Miss. Rapture," he said as she put the papers on his desk.

"What have I told you, Mr. Hadley, call me Glimmer!" Miss. Rapture purred, further pushing her chest out. For God's sake, any more of that and she was going to unbalance herself and fall.

"I prefer the professional terms if you don't mind, Miss Rapture," Cato replied, rolling his eyes at Peeta as if to say, 'Kill. Me. Now.'

"Whatever you say, Mr. Hadley," Glimmer giggled before disappearing off to do whatever her job in Capitol Industries was. Something told Peeta that she was a secretary. His eyes skittered from the door in which he watched her exit from to Cato, who was smirking in amusement.

"Four grand she wasted on those puppies," Cato explained. "Didn't do her a damn thing if you ask me."

"Well, maybe it's because we're gay . . ." Peeta trailed off, a shudder jittering his body as the image of the fake breasts returned to his head. "Maybe we don't have the capacity to appreciate big . . . er, assets, like straight people do. I dunno, maybe it's a 'bigger the better' sort of thing?" What exactly was the attraction in boobs anyway? If there was anything that Peeta wanted to know, it was to find out why straight men/lesbian women loved boobs so much. They just seemed like fat sacks to him.

"She's been trying to capture my attention for a year and a half now," Cato said. "I would fire her but she's not in my department. Lesson of the day Peeta Mellark: having tits shoved into your face every day is like hell on earth, especially when you don't have any way of getting her to stop it. Denying her only spurs her on. She'll be after you next, wait you see. Anything with legs is what she's after."

This knowledge alarmed Peeta greatly. "Maybe you could stab your pen into her chest and see if you can pop the implants?" he suggested.

Cato laughed. "That sounds feasible."

Peeta smiled and folded his bottom lip into his mouth to chew on it. He had a habit of doing this, he couldn't stop himself, no matter how much his mother told him to stop. His eyes, which were once focused on the coffee table, lifted at the undeniable burning sensation that came with being stared at by Cato.

"Do you try to be seductive or is it just habitual?" Cato asked, leaning forward so his hands rested on his desk.

Peeta released his lip slowly as he thought about it, to give himself some time to come up with an answer. Cato's eyes darkened, the idea that Peeta had no idea what he looked like being amazingly arousing. "Pass?" Peeta finally settled with saying.

"You make it extremely hard for me to be civil," Cato said. "If you do things like coyly chewing on your lip; fluttering those gorgeous golden lashes; even just sitting there for fuck's sake, you make it very, very hard for me not to eat you alive."

"I doubt I'd taste nice, sir," Peeta said, ignoring his frantic heartbeat that had heightened considerably in the past few minutes of conversation.

"You taste delicious," Cato corrected.

"When did you"-Peeta paused as he realized what Cato had been referring to-"oh. Yeah." Really, he should have seen it coming. He had basically set himself up for it without even realizing.

Cato grinned wolfishly. "Do you think it would be at all inappropriate if I went over there and made out with you for a bit? Because, well, I'm probably going to do it anyway."

Peeta flushed, his blood turning to hot liquid in his veins. "What if someone comes in, sir?"

"They have to go to Marvel first and he'll buzz the phone." Cato was already getting up and making his way to the couch, already having decided where this was going to end up.

"W-What about Marvel himself, sir?" Peeta asked.

"Marvel has been my PA for five years. He knows to buzz and ask permission before entering my office." Cato sat beside Peeta, his body's proximity making Peeta feel a little flustered. His nerves tweaked again, his body's way of whimpering in expectancy. It was like he was drawn to Cato. That Cato was the light in the dark who everyone drifted towards subconsciously. "Why? Are you nervous?"

"N-nervous? Me?" Peeta tried to laugh it off but failed miserably. He sagged a little in annoyance. "Yes. A bit. I've never made out in a public area before. Never made out anywhere, really, other than your house, sir."

Cato took Peeta's chin between his thumb and forefinger, drawing the younger boy towards him until their lips were inches apart. Peeta held his breath, frightened and excited. "That's the cute thing about virginity. Most people lose it once the dick has been stuck into them but there are those very, very select few who continue to obtain the virgin innocence long after that. I've never met anyone like that, until now."

"I'm not innocent!" Peeta yelped when Cato tugged his hair hard for his disobedience. "Sorry, sir."

"You are innocent, don't take it like an insult," Cato purred, brushing his lips sensually over Peeta's. "It's a compliment. In these modern times, purity is so hard to find. Even in youth. People as young as thirteen are having sex and going out drinking."

"I was too focused on my studies at that age, sir," Peeta replied.

"What did you study?"

"At thirteen I studied most of the compulsory subjects but I moved on to do an art, H.E and double award science GSCE."

"No college?"

"No, sir. That was when my father died and I became my mother's carer."

"I see." Suddenly overwhelmed by his desire to kiss the boy in front of him until he was unable to think of anything else other than how much he deserved to feel good, Cato closed the distance between them and connected their lips. Peeta was a good person, he deserved to be happy. He was kind and caring and worked hard, seemingly without much praise. Cato didn't want this to go unnoticed, he wanted to show his little pet just how deserving he was.

As the celibate young boy that Peeta was, he had trouble containing the noises that escaped him. Cato thought they were cute but he knew that Peeta probably didn't like it. As much as Cato wanted to continue listening to his little pet moaning like a baby animal while he thoroughly examined his tonsils for him, he couldn't risk it being heard. Cato pulled back and gently pressed his hand over Peeta's mouth. His lips were wet with saliva and his big blue eyes widened in surprise.

"Sssh," Cato hushed, pressing his finger to his lips. Peeta flushed, embarrassment written all over his features. "Don't want Marvel hearing now, do we? He may have to ask permission to enter but I can't help what he hears going on behind the doors."

"I'm sorry," Peeta muttered, his breath hot against Cato's palm. "Sir."

Cato loosened the tie around his neck and wrapped it around Peeta's mouth, wedging it between his teeth and tying it off at the back of his neck. Now that his volume was taken care of, Cato pulled Peeta back to him and started kissing his neck. Of course, the boy still moaned but the sound was muffled and quiet.

"Of course, don't let this discourage you in the future," Cato said between kisses. He laid Peeta down on the couch and crawled on top of him. His lips were driven wild by the taste of Peeta's skin, and the little noises that were trodden down because of the piece of material between his lips. "If I don't gag you like this, please take it as a go-ahead to be as vocal as you want."

Peeta whined with a small voice, his body arching upward into Cato's torso as the older man sucked on the sensitive piece of skin between his neck and collar bone. He didn't know what to do with his hands and when he tried to touch Cato, his wrists were grabbed and pinned behind his back, held together in one of Cato's hands. He felt flustered and hot all over. Peeta was completely consumed in a haze of pleasure, a thin veil of disorientation covering his senses and making him forget that they were in Cato's office.

"I can't wait for Friday night so I can ruin you," Cato purred, his lips tracing a path along Peeta's collarbones. Peeta held his breath and released it in uncoordinated gasps. "Still so much purity left, so much innocence just waiting to be dirtied."

Peeta stretched his neck, silently begging Cato to keep going. His body was reacting in a way he still didn't understand, since only minutes ago he had been worried because he didn't think he would be able to get into it in a public place. Now here he was, hands behind his back, neck stretching and cock hard as a rock. Was this how his libido was going to work from now on? Say one thing then be proven wrong by Cato?

Cato sat up, pulling Peeta onto his lap as he went, and laid down on the other side of the couch so Peeta was now on top. His lips hadn't taken a break from mercilessly attacking Peeta's neck, the younger boy so worked up that didn't know where he was even looking anymore. Cato grabbed his ass and squeezed, his chuckle vibrating against Peeta's throat when he yelped behind the tie. Peeta quickly adjusted to the feeling of being groped so thoroughly and was soon moaning, his eyes fluttering like the wings of a butterfly.

Buzzzzzzzzzzzz

Peeta screeched in surprise at the abrupt sound, jumping out of Cato's lap and falling off the sofa. He groaned in pain, taking a moment in lie on his side and dwell in his awkwardness.

"Come in, Marvel!" Cato called loudly.

Peeta tried to look at Cato in alarm but couldn't because his master still had a hold of his wrists, holding them behind his back so he was forced to sit on his knees on the floor. Heart pounding in his chest like forceful thunder, Peeta bit his lip and forced himself to sit still and keep quiet as he heard the office door open.

"Mr. Hadley, Ms. Morrison called to inform you that she wishes to push her meeting up to four o'clock instead of five," Marvel said, his voice clipped and professional.

"Thank you, Marvel," Cato said.

The door shut again, the conversation having no need to be dragged on. Peeta sighed in relief, having feared that they had been about to be caught. "Mho?" he mumbled, voice muffled behind the fabric of the tie.

"It seems that we must part ways, for now," Cato sighed, sounding deeply disappointed. He stood up, using the hold he had on Peeta's wrists to pull him up with him. "However, don't think I won't make up for it on Friday."

Peeta didn't need to think that. He knew Cato wouldn't.

Cato removed the tie around Peeta's mouth and kissed his ear. "Feel free to leave when you wish. I understand if you wish to stay a little while after I've left to . . ." Peeta's eyes closed in longing when Cato's teeth scraped his earlobe. "Settle down."

It took Peeta exactly fifteen minutes to 'settle down'. Even then it felt like he was being obvious when he left, his face still having the undeniable sensation of burning. Still, Marvel didn't seem to notice. Or did he and was just pretending he didn't? You know what, let's not go down that road.

He failed to realize that his satchel remained in Cato's office, having fallen off during their making out. He had left it behind.

A/N: So, now I must pose the question: what do you think is so important about Peeta's satchel? We won't be hearing of it for the next few chapters but what do you guys think is inside it? I'm intrigued to hear what you think.

Please review with your thoughts! :D