All right kids, here's where the M comes in. Be aware of sexual content.

Enjoy!

When I wake up in the morning, Peeta's already out of bed. At first I panic, remembering our conversation from last night, but when I scent of freshly baked breads wafts through the door, I calm. I climb out of bed and make my way out of the room and down the stairs in a pair of pajama shorts and a tank top; I decide to ignore how I got into these, Peeta obviously being the one to put them on me. Yep, best not to think about it. There was already enough awkwardness at the moment, without me bombarding him about changing me.

Usually when he's cooking breakfast in the morning, he whistles small tunes and greets me kindly, but today he is silent and simply sends me a small smile before turning back to the frying pan. A small sense of panic comes back as I sit down at the table quietly, almost afraid to break the silence in fear of him finally letting everything out. Obviously he's still bothered about last night, and I'd rather avoid the topic for as long as possible.

We eat in an awkward silence, my heart beating loudly.

"I need to get to the bakery. Get some things ready." He stands up from the table, offers me another small smile, and then goes upstairs to get ready.

He's decided to skip a day to let news of the bakery get around – not that it hadn't already – and to give him the day to get more baking done, since he was completely sold out yesterday.

I'm up and cleaning the dishes when he comes back down the stairs, throwing on his shoes and waving goodbye. There wasn't even a goodbye kiss to accompany it. I shake my head to clear my thoughts and finish up the dishes, then decide to straighten up the rest of the house to occupy myself since I'm not in the mood to hunt today.

I start with cleaning up the rest of the kitchen, and even organize all of the cupboards. I then move to the living room, then his painting room and onto our bedroom. I scrub down the bathrooms and dust the unused rooms, and clean all the walls – not that they particularly need it.

When Peeta comes home at seven – quite late, in actuality – he raises both eyebrows. "House looks nice."

I offer a tight smile. "Thanks." All I want is for this awkwardness to go away, for the whole topic to leave. It's selfish, but that's what I am. Selfish.

We eat dinner in the same silence we ate breakfast, and then finally I can't take it. When we finish the dishes together, I slam a hand down on the kitchen counter and look at him fiercely. "This needs to stop."

All he does is raise an eyebrow, baffled.

I huff in exasperation and fling my hands up in the air. "I know you're mad about my marriage comment! It's not like we've been together for that long, anyway, so you really have no reason to be."

He stiffens, and I'm sure I've done it this time. I probably didn't need to tack on that last piece. He then sighs and turns to me, his expression unreadable. "Katniss, we don't need to discuss this. I'm tired."

I shake my head and push him back when he tries to go past me, anger overtaking rationality. "No! We're settling this, now. I want to know why you're mad!"

"Because you refuse to give in!" It's not often when Peeta yells at me, so when he does it means he's really mad.

I scoff, because this makes no sense to me. Perhaps we're both beyond rational thinking. "That doesn't make sense, Peeta! What the hell are you talking about? What do you want from me?" I want to take back that last question, because I'm not sure if I want the answer.

He turns away from me and takes a few deep breaths, I figure to calm himself, and then flips back over with a frown. "You refuse to let yourself get any closer to me. You have no problem giving me kisses and playing the perfect part of a significant other, but you can't admit it. It's frustrating, Katniss. Don't you get that?"

I do. I always have, because I've always put him through it. After he was hijacked, I realized all his because he didn't love me anymore. Now that he does, it seems that I have forgotten how badly I'm taking advantage of him again. I won't give in this easily though. "No Peeta, I don't! I don't understand what you expect of me, what you still need from me!" I cross my arms, glaring.

He laughs mirthlessly, shaking his head. "It's just…I don't want to pressure you into anything, Katniss." He sighs and takes a step closer to me; I step back. "I'm not saying we have to get married or anything, I just want you to admit what we are. That we're more than you let yourself believe. I'm sick of just being your safe zone, especially when I now know you feel something, no matter how much you try to hide it."

I open my mouth to retort, but I find that I have nothing. There's no more ammo for me to use. I sigh and drop my gaze. "And what exactly do I feel?"

I hear him walk closer, and then he's lifting my chin so I meet his eyes. "You tell me." He leans forward, halfway toward my lips, and waits for me to make the next move.

Before I know it, I'm kissing him. One soft kiss turns into another, and soon enough his tongue is in my mouth and he's leading me to the stairs, picking me up to carry me to our room. He closes the door behind us and presses me against it. A sound comes from me, one I have never heard before, as he gently nips and sucks on my neck. It's guttural. Ferocious. My hands run up and down his back until I reach the hem of his shirt. He seems to take the hint, since he pulls back to take it off and is right back to attacking my throat. I place my hands back, tracing every contour, every muscle, in his back. My nails are gently grazing, causing a content sigh to slip from him.

He removes himself from me, making me involuntarily whine. It takes me by surprise when he pushes me onto the bed, then slowly crawls on top of me, bringing his mouth to mine. He's taking everything much slower now, committing everything to memory, and I'm sure we both know where this is going.

I take his lower lip between my teeth before diving back in, opening my mouth when he licks between them. His hands move down my sides and to my shirt, and then he lifts away from me to look me in the eyes, a silent question as he rubs the fabric in between two fingers. I let a small, shaky smile come to my face to motivate him forward, and lift my back off the ground.

He inches the fabric over my stomach and right below my breasts, before looking back up at me for one more reassurance that this is okay. I can see the longing in his eyes, no matter how hard he tries to mask it. When I nod and lift the other half of my body up, he quickly pulls the shirt over my head and lets me fall back down against the bed. I blush a deep red when he sits back on his haunches to take me in; when a smile spreads on his lips before he leans down to kiss in between my breasts, I feel much more relaxed. I'm pleasantly surprised I'm not as embarrassed by him seeing my scars as I thought I would be if it ever came down to this.

His lips move over my left breast, near my heart, until they close down on my nipple. I gasp when he sucks experimentally, which seems to encourage him more as he moves his tongue in little circles before sucking again. I moan soft and low, my eyes closed in contentment and fingers running through his hair. Fire is shooting from his point of interest down to my toes and center. This fire, the one I've felt those times before, is all much more apparent. It's lust.

But no, not just lust. There's something else as well, something I still can't fully put my finger on. I decide to push it away for the time being when I feel one hand reach the top of my pants, his thumb running back and forth over the button, almost begging for my approval to undo it. All of the sudden, everything just seems to be too slow; I gently push him away, his eyes questioning, and then unbutton and pull down my pants. I toss them off of the bed with a foot, only clad in my underwear.

His eyes darken again as he spends no time crawling back on top of me. As he attacks my lips, I run my hands up and down his taut chest, feeling each beautiful scar. The heat builds even further when I hear him gasp at my light touch. All I want is to feel more of him, so I reach my hands down between us so I can unbutton his pants. He seems to take the hint, because he's off of me in an instant and pulling them down.

Before he can climb back onto me, I sit up and latch my index fingers into each side of his boxers, the large tent causing immense curiosity. He allows me to pull them down, letting him spring free. I stare, taking in this foreign body part as he takes the rest of his boxers off. I hear him chuckle, and I retaliate by slowly reaching out a hand to graze his erection, effectively cutting off the laughs. I feel oddly empowered.

Before I know what's happening, I'm back onto my back and he's inching down my underwear, throwing off to who knows where. There's a pressure at my center that makes me moan loudly, and I look down to see two of Peeta's fingers running up and down my folds. I let my head drop back with another moan when he starts to use his thumb to play with the bundle of nerves at the top; it feels so incredibly good. "Where did you learn to do that?" I'm surprised when this comes from my lips, but I find that I really am curious, and a little afraid of the answer.

He's biting his lip with a shrug. "When you have two older brothers, they try to scar you with telling you this kind of stuff when you're still young. Turns out the joke's on them, huh?"

I feel better and allow the pleasure to overcome my thoughts. "Ye-ooo-es." My eyes widen and my back arches when he slides a finger in me. I buck my hips and moan when he curls his finger. "Oh, Peeta…"

He groans when I say his name, bringing me back to reality. I realize that this isn't enough. I need more, and by the looks of it, so does he.

"God Katniss, you're so wet."

I'm surprised at how easily this comes from him, but neither of us is completely capable of thought at the moment. All that matters is how he feels when he touches me, how I can imagine he'll feel inside of me. "Peeta…" I grab for him and still his hand, pulling it out and moving so my legs are on either side of his hips, lining him up with me.

I hear his breathing increase, and realize mine does, too. My eyes are closed, intent on feeling every bit of what is about to happen, ride out every wave of pleasure that will crash over me. I feel him at my entrance and open my eyes to see him positioning himself to enter me. Now when I close my eyes, it's due to nerves. This is really happening. I'm about to lose my virginity, and to the man I love.

Love. I realize this is the other feeling that accompanied the lust, and I'm surprised at how incredibly nice it is to admit.

That's when he breaks through, and the feel of his stretching me is not what I expected. We had sex ed, so I know it's supposed to hurt, but this is different. I'm sore, but he's just so gentle that it gradually goes away comfortably. He's keeping still, most likely to let me get more used to it, but I can see how badly he wants to move. When his eyes meet mine, the intensity of his gaze makes me dizzy. There is so much desire, lust, love. I know for a fact that I have never felt so loved in my life.

I move my hips up to meet his, letting him know he can move, and when he pulls out and pushes back in, I allow myself to fall back against the bed with my eyes closed once again. He keeps a slow, steady rhythm, most likely afraid of hurting me, but I can't take much more. I need to find some way to speed him up, some way to satiate this fire as soon as possible. "Peeta, more. I need…oh…"

He picks up on my words because he's picking up his pace, the bed creaking in time with our rocking, and soon enough I'm synching myself to his rhythm; it's awkward at first, but soon we maintain it and all that's left is euphoria. The fire's burning brighter, the one fire I will welcome with open arms.

"Katniss, I'm…oh, fuck." His moans are growing louder, and I find myself oddly turned on by his swearing, something I have never heard come from him in my life. He drops his head into the crook of my neck as he moves harder, his movements turning jerky, then slow and powerful as one last moan escapes him.

We breathe heavily, him on top of me, as we come down from the high. I'm still burning, still in need of release, so I wriggle my hips in hopes to feel him hard again.

He sits up and pulls out, obviously done for the night, but sticks a couple of fingers in place. "I'm sorry, let me finish you."

I don't object as he leans down to kiss me, his fingers moving at a fast pace, his thumb pushing my nub as I lift my hips and arch my back. I'm gasping, small high-pitched sounds coming out as everything goes white. My whole body is shuddering, and I'm sure I've never felt something so amazing in my life. I drop down heavily, taking labored breaths as he kisses and nips my neck.

He drops down next to me, both of us staring at the ceiling until we're both calmed. I turn my head to look at him, willing him to look back at me. A smile adorns his face at he looks at me, reaching a hand out to stroke my cheek. I lift a hand to hold him there. The smile drops as he seems to go into deep thought, then looks me straight in the eyes. "You love me. Real or not real?"

I don't hesitate to answer as a soft smile comes out. "Real."

What better way to start your intimate relationship, right? Fights are key, kiddies!

Please note how bad that advice is.

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