A/N - Katniss wonder how Peeta measures up. A College AU written for everlarkbirthdaydrabbles on Tumblr. Rated M for smut, cussing and a few penis puns! ;D

Katniss curls her leg over Peeta's and contentedly settles her head on his chest. His heartbeat is pounding in time with her own. She smiles smugly, her fingers tracing lazy circles in the downy hair on his breast bone.

She peers up at her boyfriend, who has flung his free arm over his eyes. All she can see of his handsome face is the strong line of his jaw, peppered by a golden stubble. He never bothers to shave on his days off, partly to give his skin a break, but mostly to make his mother crazy. Katniss doesn't care. The way it scrapes on her inner thighs makes her crazy in a completely different way.

"I can hear your heartbeat."

"That's good." Peeta's voice is sleepy.

She raises herself on her elbow and scowls down at him. "That's good? Are you kidding me?"

His arm falls over his head and his blue eyes twinkle up at her. "Well, yeah. 'Cause it means you didn't kill me. And really, after that, I should be dead. Those orange shorts are a deadly weapon, Katniss."

She glances over to where the bootie shorts lie in a puddle in the middle of his bedroom floor. She's pretty sure her bra is twisted in the covers somewhere. Maybe. Hopefully they didn't leave it in the hall. She hums, flustered, and wriggles up the bed until her face is beside his on the pillow. "You weren't so bad yourself."

He grins over at her. "They say it's how you use it, not the size, that matters."

Katniss scoffs. "That's a lie women tell small men." When Peeta's eyes widen in surprise, she's quick to stammer, "Not that I'd know, because you know, of course, there's only been you and we've only just…"

"Keep digging, Everdeen. You're almost all the way to China."

She rolls to her back and blows out a breath that makes her bangs flutter. "Anyway. Girls talk too. And you've got nothing to worry about."

His answering chuckle lets her off the hook, but a question pops into her brain and she can't stop it before it crosses her lips. "How big is the average guy anyway, Peeta?" She's staring at the ceiling, but catches his palm slapping his face anyway.

"God, Katniss. It's not like I stare at the other guys' junk in the locker room!"

"C'mon," she cajoles, delighted by his red face. "You're all lined up at the urinals. You must have some idea."

"I don't know," he groans in exasperation. "Depends on a lot of things. The average white guy is about six inches or so, I guess."

Katniss's gaze flicks down at Peeta's semi-hard dick. "Oh," she says thoughtfully.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"What!"

She shrugs. "I feel sorry for those girls. You're bigger than that."

Peeta shakes his head and laughs. "You're crazy, you know that?"

Katniss jumps out of bed and starts rifling through the covers in search of her underwear. She finds them, tangled with her bra between the sheets at the foot of the bed.

"Hey!" Peeta protests. "Where are you going?"

"When does your mother get home from book club?" She zips up the shorts, briefly considering having them bronzed, or framed at least, because Peeta's reaction to them makes life worth living.

He glances at the clock while she struggles into her t-shirt. "Another half hour or so. Come back to bed, Katniss. Our work schedules are crazy this summer. This is the only chance we've got to be alone until next week."

"Does she still keep her sewing stuff in the seat of her sewing bench?"

Peeta runs his fingers through his hair, which is already so adorably mussed that it stands on end. "What? Yeah, I guess so. What are you going on about?"

Shouting that she'd be right back, Katniss dashes down the hall to the guest room where Peeta's mother keeps her sewing machine. She lifts the cover off the little bench where Mrs. Mellark sits to hem work pants and fix curtains and quickly finds what she's looking for. She's snapping the blue rubber tape between her hands when she re-enters Peeta's bedroom.

"Katniss? What are you up to?"

She smirks. "Don't you want to know? I want to know."

"Katniss…" His voice takes on a warning tone.

"C'mon Peeta," her voice drops to a tone she's only recently discovered. It's deep and sultry and just barely sounds like her. She flicks the button on her shorts open and slowly pulls the zipper down. "It'll be fun." Her eyebrow quirks and she shimmies her hips so that the shorts fall to the floor. "I'll make it worth your while." She licks her lips and suppresses a grin when she notices that he's hard for her again.

"Take it all off Katniss," his voice is a little hoarse, but she's pleased he's decided to play along. Her other clothes drop on top of the shorts.

"You're going to have some work to do," he husks. "To make it hard again."

She glances down at him. "Seems pretty hard to me."

Peeta shakes his head and sits up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "Nope." He pops the P. "If you think you're getting anywhere near him," he points to his crotch, "with that," he clarifies, pointing to the measuring tape now wrapped around her neck and dangling between her breasts, "then he deserves the best showing possible."

She bites her lip and then laughs. "You're a dictator, Peeta Mellark." Peeta grins at her and wiggles his eyebrows. "Yeah, I said it," she insists as she kneels before him. "A dicktator. With a K."

Cupping his sac in one hand, she takes his cock in the other, and flattening her tongue runs it all the way up, from base to tip. She looks up from the floor to see Peeta watching her intently, his eyes hooded and his lips slightly parted. He combs her hair from her face, brushing his thumb gently against her temple. She turns her face slightly to place a kiss against his palm, then turns her attentions back to him, tonguing a lazy circle around the head before taking him into her mouth. Her lips slide down the shaft slowly, until they meet the fist she has wrapped around the base.

"Fuck, Katniss," he whispers. "Don't stop." Katniss hollows out her cheeks and begins to move her hand and her mouth in unison. His hand fists in her hair as he makes noises of approval, but continues to give her all the freedom she needs to control the speed and depth of her movements. Her tongue flicks over the head with every downward stroke as she picks up speed. He swears again and lets go of her hair to lean back on his hands on the bed. She watches his head tilt back and his breathing shallow, loving the trust and the power that flows between them. A pressure builds inside her as well, making her wet and hot between her legs. Her clit begs for attention, and when she slips her hand from his sac to finger herself, the relief is so great it almost makes her come. She issues a long, low moan from a place so deep in her belly, she isn't sure she recognizes the sound.

"Ah! Fuck Katniss," Peeta growls. "Whatever you're going to do, you better do it before I blow my load."

Quick as a flash, Katniss jumps to her feet and places the end of the measuring tape at the base of his cock near his belly. She lays it along the rigid shaft, grins and then tosses it onto the floor while pushing him onto his back.

"Condom?"

"On the night table," he rasps. "Quickly. We only have about 10 more minutes."

Katniss rips the package open, rolls it on and quickly straddles him. They both groan in approval. She raises her hips again and slides back down. "Fuck, Peeta. You feel so good."

He lifts her hips and she slams against him again. "Well? Don't I get to know?"

She chuckles and leans forward to kiss him with swollen lips. "I was right about you," she crows as she rocks against him. "An absolute dicktator." Peeta snorts and she grins, continuing to move. "Penisaurus Rex."

Peeta's hands capture her bouncing breasts and roll her nipples between her thumbs. "I score a 10, huh?" he asks playfully.

She braces herself to ride him more fully and gives him a saucy grin. "A solid 8 inches, I'd say."

"Hmm. Seems to me that you better show Rex some appreciation."

So she does.