I'm halfway done rubbing my right hunting boot with grease when I hear the front door open and then close. The unmistakable sound of Peeta's footsteps follows and it seems like he's going to the kitchen. I note to myself that he's home rather early from his visit with his brother but I don't see anything strange about it. I continue to grease my boot for a minute before I start to feel like something is odd.
I put the shoe down and listen. There's no sound coming from the kitchen. Peeta doesn't spend all his time at home baking but I've rarely known him to be in the kitchen without doing something related to creating or preparing food. With a frown I set the boot down on a piece of cardboard on the floor to protect the carpet and I walk inside the kitchen to see what is going on.
Peeta isn't even there. I frown deeper. Did I just think I heard him walk in here? What's going on?
"Peeta?"
No answer. I walk to the front door but he's not there either. I walk past the downstairs bathroom but the door is open and no one is in there. My next stop is the study where I find him on the small sofa, looking out the window with a morose expression.
"Peeta?"
He turns his head and looks at me. He looks sad and it hurts my heart to see it but he quickly rearranges his face to a neutral expression. Something must have happened while he was visiting his brother. Did his wretch of a mother say or do something? One of his brothers? Sometimes I really hate them for how they fail to appreciate him.
"Everything okay?" I ask.
"Just fine."
"Yeah you look it."
I walk over and grab him by the hand, pulling him up on his feet. He protests but I'm having none of it, dragging him with me to the kitchen where I order him to sit. He takes a seat at the kitchen table, resting his feet on the chair next to him, looking like he just wants to curl up somewhere and forget about the rest of the world.
I don't know what to say really, partly because when I'm feeling really low I don't want to talk at all. Without saying a word I make him a large mug of tea which I put in his hands before sitting down opposite him at the table.
"Thanks" he says half-heartedly.
"So what happened?"
"Nothing happened. Why are you acting so… domestic?"
"You're upset about something" I reply. "That much I can tell. It worries me if you find it strange when I'm nice to you."
"No, it's not that" he says, actually chuckling a little. "It's just that you haven't done anything like this for me since… well, since we were in the cave."
"It's a mug of tea, not an injection that will cure septicaemia."
"Point well taken" he says, carefully sipping the hot liquid. "It's good."
"Are you sure you don't want to talk about what's going on?"
"Are you sure you want me to?" he retorts, raising his eyebrows at me as he takes a sip of tea.
"You can talk to me, you know."
He shrugs and sets the mug down on the table.
"It's the same old, same old, really. I've never had the best relationship with my family. That's never going to change. I've accepted it a long time ago."
"It can't be that bad" I say, though I know that's not true.
"Oh yeah?" he says, letting out a short, unhappy laugh. "Did you ever wonder how come I moved in here alone, at age sixteen?"
I close my mouth hard. If I ever did wonder I stopped wondering very soon. We weren't on comfortable terms at that point, Peeta and I, and I assumed there could be a thousand reasons why his family stayed in town.
"Doesn't matter anyway" says Peeta but I can tell that it saddens him.
"Stay here" I tell him, getting up from my seat.
"Where are you going?"
"Just wait here. Come upstairs in ten minutes."
He watches me leave with a puzzled expression but obediently stays and drinks his tea. I head up the stairs towards the bathroom connected to our bedroom. I'm feeling a strong determination to make him feel better, to take care of him, similar to the way I've always wanted to take care of Prim yet different somehow. For some time now Peeta has dealt with his difficult relationship with his family and he hasn't had an easy time with me either. Right now I want him to feel taken care of and feel that somebody cares about him.
I walk up to the bathtub and begin to draw a bath. As the water begins to fill the tub and I glance over the buttons to find a suitable scent for the bubbles I try to think of various ways to make Peeta feel better. Brewing a hot mug of tea is something my mother would do. Drawing a bath is something Prim would do. What things would I do? A few years ago I used to sing to Prim when she felt sad but I don't really sing anymore. I could give his shoulders a massage but perhaps that will be too intimate? To my frustration I seem to draw a complete blank and when the ten minutes are up and Peeta's steps come up the stairs I still haven't been able to think of anything.
"Katniss?" I hear Peeta's voice from the bedroom.
"In here! Come here."
The door pushes open and Peeta stops on the threshold, looking puzzled.
"What are you doing?"
"Drawing you a bath. What does it look like?"
There's an almost comical expression on his face as he takes in the sight of the bubble bath, smelling of vanilla which is supposed to be soothing, and the large glass of water sitting on the side of the tub. I remember that Peeta likes baths but that he says he always gets thirsty after a while.
"You… drew me a bath?" He looks at me suspiciously. "Seriously. Why are you being so nice to me?"
"Because that's what we do" I say, rising from my kneeling position. "We look after one another. Right?"
"Right" he says hesitantly.
"You're not feeling good and I'm trying to make you feel better. Now get in the bath or do I have to throw you in, clothes and all?"
My lame attempt at a joke falls rather flat but at least he looks a bit more relaxed as he sits down on the toilet and pulls his shirt over his head.
"It's nice of you" he says. "You don't have to go to any trouble, though."
"It's no trouble. I mean it Peeta, I want to look after you like you do for me. We're… spouses. We're meant to take care of each other and help each other feel better."
He smiles half-heartedly.
"So long as you know that you don't have to go to any trouble. I've never expected you to do stuff like that for me. We're not partners by choice."
"That doesn't mean I don't care about you" I tell him. "You're important to me and I want to help you feel better."
He nods slowly but still seems unsure. While we've been talking he's reached inside his left pant leg and done something with his prosthetic. It now comes off and he puts it down on the floor. I give it a quick glance. It's weird but I've never seen it off his leg before. He wears it most of the time, even to bed, though when I think about it that's rather strange.
Then he grabs a hold of the bathtub with one hand and pulls himself up standing. I have to resist the reflex to walk up and steady him. There's probably a line for how helpful it's okay for me to be. Then, before I can react, he's pulled his pants down, sat back down on the toilet and kicked the garment aside, leaving him completely naked in front of me.
I can't stop my cheeks from turning bright red as I avert my eyes. We've been married for some time but I've never seen him naked before. It shocks me that he would undress like that in front of me but then I remember our Games when he said he didn't care if I saw him. Maybe he's just not bashful about those things.
"What?" I hear him say warily.
I can't tell him that the sight of him naked makes me uncomfortable. Instead I grasp for another option.
"Nothing, just… I've never seen your leg without the…"
As the words come out of my mouth I realize that's not much better. In the corner of my eye I see him looking down at his leg and shrugging.
"It is what it is."
"It's fine" I tell him quickly. "It just… took me by surprise, I suppose. I'll leave you to your bath."
I hurry out the room, closing the door behind me, and sit down on the edge of the bed. It takes me a moment to process what I just saw. It's not that I haven't seen a naked guy before but those other men were strangers brought to my mother's door with grave injuries or diseases. Peeta is young and healthy and… Peeta.
I feel my cheeks blushing red as I remember what he looked like. It's impossible not to think about that topic we try our best to avoid. We're not going to be able to abstain forever. I know Peeta's had sex before but I have not. I wonder how many other girls have seen him naked and I wonder what they thought of him. Is he a good lover? The thought makes my cheeks turn even redder and I let myself fall back on the mattress as I try to force it from my mind.
Half an hour later Peeta comes out from the bathroom, now wearing his prosthetic and a pair of light blue boxer briefs. He's using a small white towel to dry his hair but when he lowers his arms his curls are still damp and glistening with droplets of water. I find myself enjoying the sight of him. His muscular arms, his equally muscular torso, the way his hair looks when it's damp… I catch myself moments before he would have caught me staring and I rise from the spot where I've been sitting for the past thirty minutes.
"Had a good bath?" I ask, trying to make my voice sound normal.
"You were right. It was just what I needed." He gives me a smile and it sends a pleasant feeling down my spine. "Thank you."
"It was my pleasure."
He throws the towel over the top of the open door to let it dry and I find myself oddly fascinated with the sight of the hair in his armpits. During the Games they had removed all of his body hair except for on his head, just like they do with every tribute every year, but I didn't give it much thought when we were in the arena. I didn't see him without a shirt on very often. Now he looks more natural, the way a guy his age ought to look. Body hair, a scar here and there, no make-up or styled hairdo. Just Peeta, the way he is.
Slowly I walk up to him and he watches me silently, the hint of a smile on his face. I reach up my hands and place them on his shoulders, feeling his still slightly damp skin under my fingers. I look up and meet his eyes and I wonder what happened earlier in the day to make him look so sad. I'm glad he seems to be in better spirits now. I have a hard time stomaching the sight of him unhappy.
I'm not even sure who initiates it but the next thing I know we're kissing softly, his lips pressed to mine in a way that could be just a chaste show of affection and appreciation between two good friends. Still that small, simple touch sparks that hunger in me again and without giving it a second thought I give in to that hunger, opening my mouth to him and wrapping my arms around his neck.
He hesitates, pulls back, but I refuse to let him this time around.
"Don't think" I whisper against his lips. "Just…"
"I don't want to hurt either one of us" he replies.
"Nobody will get hurt."
I kiss him again, pouring all my hunger in the kiss, and after an initial moment of hesitation I feel him giving in, responding to me with the same hunger I am showing him, if not more.
We end up on the bed, me on my back and Peeta on top of me, his body between my legs. I've never had such an intimate kiss before; he's only wearing underwear and I can feel his physical response to me through the thin layers of fabric that separates us. My hands move over his back and he groans into my mouth, sending chills of unexpected pleasure down my spine.
It's like I've been walking in a state of sleep for an eternity and the way he's kissing me, the way he feels between my legs and on top of me, is the first thing that makes me feel like I'm awake and alert again. I don't want to let go of this feeling. I want to follow it as far as it can take me. He breaks apart from me and fearing that he's going to retreat and take that feeling away from me I quickly speak up.
"Make me feel alive, Peeta." He pauses and looks deep into my eyes. I brush a damp strand of hair from his brow. "Please. Make me feel alive."
He kisses me softly, letting his tongue slowly explore my mouth. It frustrates me that I can't tell if this is him being on the same page with me or if it's him trying to round things off. Then I feel his hand sneak underneath my shirt and slowly trace upward and even though it tickles and I recoil a bit it still feels nice.
We end up with the bedspread on the floor and the comforter kicked to the side, me now lying further up on the bed with a pillow supporting my head. Somehow we managed this without breaking body contact for more than a few seconds. We don't say much to each other and I try to focus everything on feeling and not thinking. I have waited a long time for this, waited with a mixture of fear and anticipation, and now that it looks like it will finally happen I find myself more scared than I thought I would be. Even so I want it to happen, I want to feel the way his touch is making me feel and I want this to be on our own terms. I've been worrying that it will end up with Snow forcing us to do this under pain of hurting one of our loved ones and at least right now, in this bed, under these circumstances we're doing it because it's our choice.
I keep my eyes focused on Peeta's face and his hands, not feeling ready to see more of his naked body today. I try to force myself to relax because I think it will be less discomforting if I'm not tensing up. I can't let Peeta know that I'm nervous and if it hurts I can't let him know that either. He will stop if he thinks I'm not comfortable and I don't think I can handle the frustration if we don't see this through tonight.
When the moment finally comes that he pushes into me it does hurt. I pull his face down to rest at the nape of my neck and close my eyes, hoping he won't be able to tell that it doesn't feel pleasant for me but knowing I can't keep the cringe off my face. It burns and stings and stretches in an uncomfortable way and it seems to go on forever until he's finally all the way in. A strangled groan escapes him. He lifts himself up on his elbows and I open my eyes, our gazes meeting.
"I love you" he says softly.
His words almost make me choke up, a sudden and unexpected feeling spreading through me. He's never said those words to me in private before and saying them to me now feels like a reassurance, even though there's something in his eyes that tells me he's not entirely at peace. I rest my hand at the back of his neck and try to think of a way to show him how much he means to me.
"I'm so glad this is with you" I tell him.
There's a shift in his eyes, as if whatever might have troubled him a moment ago has now faded from his mind. He leans down and kisses me hotly, beginning to move inside of me as his lips meet mine. After a couple of minutes it no longer feels unpleasant, in fact it begins to feel a little bit nice, but I find myself wondering what all the fuss is about. You hear people talk about it as if it's the best thing you'll ever experience but all I can say so far is that it's nice. It's also messy and a bit smelly, which nobody has ever told me before, and the sounds our bodies make together are strange to me.
Little droplets of sweat begin to form on Peeta's brow as he moves on top of me. I'm not sure if I'm supposed to be doing anything other than just lying here but for now he seems happy with just that so I leave it at that. He smiles at me and I can't help but smile back. My arms travel up and down his back and when he begins to move faster still I wrap my legs around his waist.
The feel of his bare skin against my own is my favourite part of this. It makes me feel alive, just like I asked him to make me feel. It's like every part of me that his skin touches is on fire, in a good way. I just want him to be closer, to feel more of him, to touch him all over.
"Shit" he exclaims suddenly and tries to pull back.
"What?" I ask, dumbfounded by this turn of events. My legs hold him in place but he reaches back his hand and untangles them before moving off me. "Peeta, what? Did I do something wrong?"
"No" he pants, flopping down next to me on the bed. "No. Quite the opposite, but…"
"But what?" I ask.
"But we don't have any birth control."
I feel myself blush. That thought hadn't even occurred to me.
"Oh."
"Yeah. It might be that we'll have to cross that bridge at some point…" He swallows, trying to catch his breath. "But not yet. I'm not ready for that yet." I move to touch him but he sits up suddenly. "Shit, I'm sorry. I'll be right back."
Then the bed dips as he moves further down and then gets down on the floor, heading for the bathroom. The door closes behind him and I lie there staring at the ceiling, feeling exposed and rather stupid. I don't know what I was expecting to feel in this moment but this certainly wasn't it. I reach for the comforter and pull it over me, trying to think but finding my mind to be far too jumbled.
The bathroom door opens after a few minutes and Peeta comes back. I take care not to look at him, knowing that he's naked, but when the bed dips and his body aligns with mine I regret the comforter, wanting to feel his skin on my own again.
"I'm sorry Katniss" he says.
"No…" I say, feeling awkward. "Don't be."
"I should have thought about it before we…"
"I didn't either."
I bite my bottom lip, averting my eyes. So what happens now?
Peeta answers my unspoken question by lifting the comforter and joining me underneath it. His hand finds my hip and moves further down, finding the spot between my legs where I let him touch me briefly before he entered me. This time he doesn't ask permission. He touches me in ways I didn't know I could be touched and this feels pretty good, good enough that I allow myself to relax and stop thinking so much. The feeling builds for a while until it peaks, still not anywhere close to the stories I've heard but better than anything I can remember feeling in the past few years so I guess I have no room to complain. When that feeling hits me I can't stop my mind from wondering where he learned to touch a girl like that and how many girls he's practiced on before me. It makes me feel jealous and possessive but the feeling passes as my body begins to relax.
Peeta curls up to me, wrapping his arms around me and nuzzling his face at the crook of my neck. I wrap my arms around him in return and feel peaceful and calm. I feel so close to him in this moment, closer than I ever have to anyone in fact. Perhaps it's not so strange given how intimate we've been physically but I can't believe it's all thanks to that. Those women who line up at Cray's door hoping to sell their bodies to feed their families can hardly feel this close to him when it's over. There has to be something more that brings this feeling, more than just the sex.
"Peeta" I mumble into his hair. It's still damp from his bath, which makes me smile for some reason.
"Yeah?"
"I wouldn't mind doing that again, sometime."
He laughs and his breath tickles. I smile and close my eyes, holding him close to me, revelling in the feel of his naked skin against mine. I'm comfortably drowsy and could probably fall asleep at any moment but another thought crosses my mind and I have to share it with Peeta before I drift off.
"I think we could actually have a happy life."
He pulls his head back a bit to squint at me. He looks drowsy too and I find the look on his face adorable.
"Meaning?"
"Meaning… that as long as we hold each other close I think we can be really good together."
He studies my face intently as if trying to decipher a deeper meaning behind those words. I'm not entirely sure what I mean exactly but what I do know is that I've missed him like crazy ever since our wedding night and not until now do I feel like I truly have him back. I'm not ready to let go.
"Be a team with me" I whisper to him in the darkness of our bedroom.
"Yes" he whispers back.
He settles back in the way he was and I sigh contently, feeling safe and sound for the first time since as far back as I can remember. If I can only have him by my side, being a unit against those who want to hurt us in the Capitol, then I think something good can become of my life. I haven't realized until now how much I truly need Peeta, and maybe it's the aftermath of intercourse talking but I feel an unusual sense of completion.
I pull him a little closer, let my eyes drift shut and moments later I have fallen asleep.
I wake up after about an hour, my stomach growling and reminding me that it's time for dinner. It's strange to have taken a nap underneath the covers at this time of day but the reminder of the reason why makes me smile. I'm feeling a warmth and happiness that has all to do with Peeta and that almost makes me ignore that I'm also feeling a bit sore.
We did it. Finally we had sex. I don't feel as relieved as I thought I would but I'm happy for once and I don't want to question that emotion. I study Peeta's features with a soft smile on my lips, enticed by his face as he sleeps. By the sound of his deep and even breaths I'm guessing he's not going to wake up for a while yet and I feel the sudden desire to do something to surprise him.
Carefully I slip out from underneath the covers and begin to recover the items of clothing I shed before. Once I'm fully dressed I tiptoe out of the bedroom and head down the stairs to start preparing dinner. I'm starving and Peeta probably is too. A nice, hot meal would be the perfect way to wrap up this evening and after that, well…
I rummage through the cabinets and the refrigerator but to my annoyance I can't find anything that would make for a good meal. There's a jar of wild rice and an almost empty jar of pasta but nothing good to cook with it. Since I didn't go out hunting today there's no fresh meat and I suddenly remember that I was planning on paying my mother and sister a visit right around dinner time and see if I could eat with them.
Frowning I close the refrigerator door and cross my arms over my chest. I don't want to go upstairs and wake Peeta and bring him over to my old house and dinner with my mother and sister. I want us to have a meal alone together tonight. Except I don't want us to have a dinner of rice and pasta and a few vegetables. If we had cream or even a bit of milk I could have tried my hands at making a pasta sauce but the only dairy product in the house is a jar of butter.
I head for the front hall and grab my winter shoes, trying to recall where I've put my hunting boots. With a different pair of shoes on I grab my coat and then head out the door, jogging towards my old house and wincing slightly at the physical discomfort between my legs. I enter the house after one knock and my stomach growls again when the smell of dinner fills my nose.
I find my mother and sister in the kitchen, almost done preparing dinner. Prim grins when she sees me and gives me a big hug. My mother gives me a smile as well and seems to be studying me on the sly. I realize I'm grinning like an idiot but I don't care to try and hide the happy mood I'm in. I just hope she can't tell the reason why.
"You're just in time for dinner!" announces Prim, lifting Buttercup into her arms.
"It smells wonderful" I say. "I wish I could stay but I can't."
"Why not?" my sister complains.
"Peeta's waiting for me." Despite my best efforts there's a blush on my cheeks but I manage to toss out a lie to distract them from thinking too much about it. "He's already gotten started on dinner but we realized we're out of meat. I came by to see if you have any left that we could borrow."
"It's meat that you brought home" says my mother calmly, walking over to the freezer box. "It's yours. No borrowing."
"Can't you call Peeta and tell him to just stop cooking and come over here instead?" asks Prim.
"I don't like wasting food" I reply.
"Alright, alright" sighs Prim theatrically. Then she gets s glint in her eyes and gives me a nudge with her elbow. "I can take a hint and you are a lousy liar. Romantic husband and wife dinner, right?"
"Something like that" I say with a bashful smile.
"Here, take this" says my mother and hands me a steak wrapped in paper. I frown and hesitate to take it. This isn't something I've shot and killed, this is brought from the butcher shop.
"You don't have to give me anything fancy" I object.
"Romantic dinner calls for more than rabbit or pheasant which is all that we have aside from this."
I blush even more, feeling ridiculously awkward.
"But…"
"No but, just take it" she says softly. "It's not a big deal, Katniss."
I mumble a thanks and make my way back to the door, my sister in tow. As I put my shoes back on I look over at her and find her leaning against the doorpost with her arms crossed and a self-satisfied smirk on her face.
"What?" I ask.
"I knew you guys were doing romance stuff even without the cameras" she says.
"It's no big deal, it's just dinner" I mumble.
"You wouldn't be blushing like that if it was just dinner. I think there's going to be more than just dinner."
"Prim!" I gasp, shocked and a bit horrified at hearing her insinuate anything at all that has to do with sex. I'm four years her senior and a married woman and I'm barely comfortable insinuating things about it.
"What?" she says casually. "Like I don't know what married people do."
"Okay, I'm leaving" I say.
"Give Peeta a kiss from me" she teases in a sing-song voice.
"Good night Prim" I say icily, closing the door behind me.
I'm a little rattled by that conversation with her. She's only fourteen, way, way too young to know about sex or to be thinking about kissing boys. When I was fourteen those thoughts never even crossed my mind, except that I knew I never wanted to engage in anything like that. I'm not comfortable with my baby sister knowing that Peeta and I had sex less than two hours ago and what that actually means.
I walk inside the house and take my outerwear off. I leave the package of meat on the kitchen counter and gather a pot and a frying pan, trying my best to not make any sound that could wake Peeta up. My eyes go to the staircase and I feel an urge to go up to the bedroom and steal another look at him. I look at the meat package and the pot and pan and wonder to myself what I'll make of it, since cooking isn't my strongest suit. I can prepare food well enough but I have almost no imagination when it comes to ways of varying the meals I cook. One might think that a person who's been forced to go hungry so often would have a never ending stream of ideas for meals but I never seem to be able to think of any.
I decide to change my plans. Instead of cooking for Peeta I will go wake him up and we can cook together. We've done that a hundred times before but this time I get a funny feeling in my stomach, a strange twitch in my heart and can't seem to keep from smiling. I want to believe that what we've shared together today means we're back to being a team again and cooking a nice dinner together with Peeta, like a genuine couple would do, makes me feel happy.
I hurry up the stairs as quietly as possible, still hoping to be the one to wake Peeta up, and walk to the bedroom. Pushing the door open I feel my smile widening, imagining how I will kiss him awake or maybe snuggle up to him. My face falls when I find the bedroom empty and the bed neatly made. For a moment I just stand there in the doorway, trying to figure out what has gone on while I was away. Where is Peeta?
I call his name and walk inside the bathroom, hoping to find him in there. The bathroom is empty and the towel Peeta previously hung over the door is now back on its hanger. Frowning I walk back out in the hallway and rack my brain trying to figure out where he's gone. I decide to check his study first and walk over to the door, feeling slightly nervous as I knock and then enter.
Peeta doesn't look up at me when I walk into the room. He is fully dressed, perched on a stool in front of an easel, working on a painting. He doesn't look nearly as happy as I've been feeling and immediately I start to worry. Does he regret having sex? Did I push him to do something he wasn't comfortable doing? Up until today I've been so set on taking that step with him that I haven't paid much heed to the reasons he has voiced for not jumping into bed with me.
"Peeta…" I say. "There you are."
He looks at me and offers me a smile that doesn't seem entirely genuine.
"Hey" he says.
"What are you doing?"
"Painting."
I hesitate, suddenly not so sure about the steak dinner and cooking it together.
"Are you hungry? I was thinking we could make dinner."
"Thanks but I'm not hungry, I had a late lunch." He sees my disappointment and his features soften a bit. "Come here."
I walk over to him and pull up a stool to sit right beside him. It's strange how I can feel nervous around him after what we've done together today.
"Is everything okay?" I ask.
"Yeah" he shrugs. He looks at me with a trace of concern. "What about you? Are you feeling… alright?"
"I'm good."
"Good" he nods. "You were gone when I woke up and I was worried you might…"
He doesn't finish the sentence but from the look on his face it's clear that my absence made him worry. Quickly I try to find the right thing to say to make him see that I woke up feeling great and that my absence had no negative reasons but I can't seem to think of anything. Explaining that I went to my mother to borrow meat seems far too random and I want to say something that makes him truly understand that I enjoyed our activities today, even if it wasn't the amazing experience people say it is.
"Listen, about earlier today…" he begins, scratching the back of his neck with an awkward look on his face. "It wasn't exactly… how I had pictured it."
A sudden rush of warmth flows through me.
"You've pictured it?"
"Well, yeah, I mean…" He makes an awkward face. "What I told you before, about wanting you to feel the same way about me that I do about you is true and I have daydreamed that scenario… a lot. Truth be told, though, I was hoping it would never come to that but I was naïve."
"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask defensively. He doesn't answer for over a minute so I say his name in a stern voice.
"You and I both know that as victors are lives are not our own" he says. "The struggle has been to figure out exactly what that means and how much wiggle room there is to get around the various things that are expected of us."
"Meaning?"
He sighs heavily.
"I know I've been a huge pain in the ass. Cold and distant and pushing you away. I don't know if it's better or worse that it was intentional. Worse, most likely…"
I feel a lump in my throat and pull back from him a bit.
"Well then you can just-"
He holds up a hand as if to signal for me to stop and I do.
"President Snow made it very clear to me what was expected of me. It was his own personal… wedding gift to me."
My jaw drops. I never expected Snow to have spoken to Peeta too until our recent Capitol visit. I was always the troublesome one, Peeta was the one fully on board.
"What?"
"He thought you would be the one unwilling to get into bed with me and he made sure I knew I had two options. Or rather that he knew I was likely to create two options – sleep with you or not sleep with you. Naturally he would prefer the former but in case I chose the latter he wanted to make sure some fun could come of it for him."
"I… don't understand."
"It's… a long story" says Peeta, looking distantly at the canvas on his easel. "If I were to choose not to sleep with you there would of course be a lifetime of pent-up sexual desire on my part, which no doubt would be hilarious to him, but in his infinite generosity he would find ways to make sure I had an outlet."
He swallows hard and looks very uncomfortable. I put my hand on his arm and he jolts a little.
"Peeta… What has he done to you?"
"Nothing, not yet. He was going to enjoy watching me squirm for a few years first. Trying to see if I would break and go for it with you. I thought that if you didn't want to be intimate with me it would be much easier to abstain but you've proven to be more… well, willing to play that game, if you pardon the expression. I think he knows that and finds it funny in his own twisted way. So I've tried to keep you at arm's length, be undesirable, be…"
"Why not just give in and let us deal with the fallout together?"
"Because if I could have just withheld then only I would have had to pay for it. I've understood as much as that if I choose sex it won't be good for us. When I say our lives are not our own that includes our sex lives. I won't go into detail about it all but the point is that once we start having sex he's got plans for us, plans that don't just include babies. I've been trying to figure out a way around it and up until now I've been able to ward his threats off but when we went to the Capitol for the Victory Tour party he told me to force myself on you if you wouldn't give yourself willingly, or…" He swallows hard. "Or he would have somebody else do it." He looks a touch pale. "I realized I was a damn fool thinking I could beat that man. I thought the miscarriage stunt would bring the public on our side, and help me hold on to my determination not to sleep with you, but I guess not. I know I'm an ass for not telling you but I thought it would be easier to pull something off if you weren't in the know. Actually I thought that his main goal was to make us miserable and that if I acted distant from you and made you dislike me we would be and maybe that would be enough for him. It's been hell trying to keep you away but I'm not asking for any sympathy for myself. Now that we've arrived at this point I wish I had made a different choice, that I had included you in whatever plans I was making, that I had given you affection when I wanted to and been the kind of partner I wanted to be, the kind you deserve. I guess I thought emotional distance and an unhappy marriage would be better than us both having a life like Finnick's or Cashmere's or…" He closes his eyes hard for a second. "I'm really sorry. You don't have to forgive me, or even understand. Just know that however misguided I may have been what I wanted to do was protect us, protect you."
I reach out my hand and place it on his cheek. He opens his eyes and looks at me and it feels like the old Peeta looking back at me. I don't understand half of what he's alluding to and I don't know if I want to. Whatever Snow has been holding over him it's obviously been unpleasant. I know I have a choice now, to either be angry with Peeta and push us further into that unhappy marriage or I can be the one who puts an end to the secrets between us, the miscommunication and the walls. Peeta has been fighting to keep us from being a team, despite his own wishes, but from this point on we can be a unit again. We've already had sex so that bridge has been crossed no matter what we do from this point on. We can face Snow together. It would be marvellous to show him that despite his machinations we've come out stronger and happier on the other side.
I lean in and kiss my husband. He hesitates but then gives in, and when he does he does so with hunger and desperation. We're on our feet in an instant, clumsily moving towards the door, mouths locked together and hands awkwardly fumbling. Then Peeta gives up trying to move like this and grabs me by the waist, lifting me up in his arms. I wrap my legs around him and let him carry me back to the bedroom where we fall down on the bed in a tangled mess, clinging to each other like we've been starved for each other.
There's a brief moment of hesitation in the back of my mind. I'm sore from earlier and the steak is lying there on the kitchen counter and won't hold up for all that long unless we pause and I run down to put it in the refrigerator. Then Peeta's hand finds its way inside my shirt and palms my breast and I can't even recall if I borrowed steak or potatoes or Buttercup from my mother and sister.
We make quick work of each other's clothes and I get to feel his skin press against mine again, and his lips. He showers me in kisses and caresses and it's all I can do to keep up but I don't complain. It feels far too good to have any complaints at all. Whatever the future might hold for us I will not regret this happening between us.
It feels like in this moment we make a pact, to once again join forces and be unified and be stronger together than anything Snow could ever hope to break.
So... Worth the wait? Good at all? Let me know!