#Katniss making me laugh again because what exactly could Peeta have gotten her to agree to

[thegreenthepeacetheorange]

It is telling that when Katniss is supposedly trying to be distant from Peeta in the first half of CF, there are two specific instances where she notes she’s in a state where her inhibitions are lowered and she worries about things she might say or do around Peeta. First, is under the influence of sleep syrup when she hurts herself and the second is after she gets drunk with Haymitch when the QQ is announced.

“A side effect of sleep syrup is that it makes people less inhibited, like white liquor, and I know I have to control my tongue. But I don’t want him to go.”

“My head’s spinning from the drink, and I’m so wiped out, who knows what he could get me to agree to?”

These aren’t instances that tell us that Peeta is a danger to her in some way while she’s in these states - because there’s absolutely no world in which Peeta takes advantage of her like that. But it reveals to us a lot about where she herself is in regards to Peeta. For all her talk of choosing Gale and the rebellion, she knows she’s harbouring feelings for Peeta, feelings she can’t even fully say to us the readers. She knows that with her inhibitions lowered around him, she’s emotionally vulnerable to him. She knows she has to restrict herself from saying/doing certain things, or even seeing him altogether because seeing him in that state? She’s a goner.

It’s that whole notion of “drunken words are sober thoughts.” In the first encounter, she’s the most physically affectionate and essentially needy (!) with him that she’s been since the victory tour and since her conflict over the rebellion/Gale’s whipping. All the restraint she’s been trying to have, the flimsy wall she’s tried to build comes crumbling down. She asks him to stay repeatedly, she holds his hand to her face and takes in his scent. And that’s her while she’s trying to be in control. So it’s a good thing she doesn’t at all go to see him the second time because she’s fully drunk then. And considering that when they meet the next morning, she’s disappointed that he’s not comforting her with hugs and kisses, I can imagine how a meet up between those two that fateful night would’ve been.

[everlarkbirthdaygifts]

Happy Birthday, ilovepeetaanddarcy-peemadarzy

Happy Birthday, @ilovepeetaanddarcy-peemadarzy​! We hope you’re having a lovely birthday today, and got exactly the presents you were hoping for! To kick your party into gear, the lovely @mega-aulover​ has written a story just for you!

For: Ilovepeetaanddarcy-peemadarzy

Prompt: So, Katniss is pregnant for the third time and OMG they are twins!

A/N sorry it’s late I wrote two drabbles and I just couldn’t decide which one to choose…. So I hope you enjoy both...not beta’d so al mistakes are woefully mine.

Both Rated: G

Title 1: Mel’s Wish

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“Mommy,” Mel said her toothy grin caused Katniss to smile. They were in the meadow. Her daughter was dancing. Peeta was in the distance with their son playing patty-cake.

“Yes Mel?”

“I want a sister.”

Katniss smiled and hugged her daughter tighter. “But you have Jasper.”

“He’s alright but he smells funny and he doesn’t like playing dolls with me.”

The problems of a four year old were not exactly an earth shattering, but Katniss loved that her children could face such trivial things. They did not have to think about hunger, mutts, or cruel arenas with looming reapings. Her children had a chance at peace. Something she was slowly accepting that things would never be what they were again. There had been two presidents since Paylor took office. After four years she ran for the Presidency and won by a landside.

When her second term was nearly finished many expected her to run again. In a groundbreaking move she addressed the nation and put forth a two term policy like their ancestors had during the ancient days of democracy. Following her example many senators also vacated their seats allowing themselves two terms as well.

Power in Paylor’s own words corrupts absolutely without checks and balances. This ideal became was an established amendment to the original contract written by the Districts. It read; “In order for a fair and equitable establishment and to bring forth new and valued ideals no one should have more than eight years in any seat of power.”

These rules and many others eased Katniss sense of forboding about their future. The arenas were torn down and those that weren’t became an attraction to show people a past that we must never return.

“So I am guessing you want a sister.”

“Yes mommy a sister to play with and she can braid my hair and I can braid hers. Someone to play catch with.”

“But you can play catch with Jasper.”

“Mommy Jasper doesn’t understand how to play catch with Mermaids…”

“But certainly teach Jasper,” Katniss tried once more.

Her daughter put her tiny hand on top of hers and stared directly into Katniss eyes.  “No mommy, I need a sister.”

“MEL!” Peeta called.

“Go with dadd,” Katniss urged. She watched her daughter laugh and dance all the way to her father. Mel was practical and although she believed in Mermaids no thanks to Fin, Annie’s son. Her feet was firmly planted on the ground. For her to ask for another baby took Katniss by surprise.

So much so that the thought of another baby stayed with her throughout the day. Having Mel was hard. She had to overcome a lot of insecurities and fears. All of those voices died the moment she held Mel. For Jasper she suffered less knowing the moment in the end holding him was going to outweigh all of pitfalls she faced.

A quick look at the calender let her know she was not getting any younger.  She found her hand straying to her womb as she thought of what it felt like to hold her babies for the first time. The soft baby smell, the downey skin, the way they gripped your finger. The new baby pang hit her hard, but she kept her thoughts quiet. She would as she’d done with Mel and Jasper speak to Peeta about her desire.

Katniss smiled she was determined as Peeta, he waited a lifetime to be with Katniss and their daughter had that same grit. That night as she got ready to go to bed. Mel whispered, ‘Don’t forget mommy.”

“I won’t.” Katniss said getting up and tucking Mel in. She drifted to the bedroom where Peeta was quietly pulling down the bed for the night.

“What was that all about?” Peeta threw her a pillow.

“Mel wants a sister.”

Chuckled, “Of course she does. Jasper refused to put on one of her dresses yesterday.”

“What.”

“There’s been a private battle between them. Jasper wants to do things his way and Mel wants things her way. Jasper refused to play with her.”

Katniss sat down. “How did I miss all this.”

“I only found out about it yesterday,” Peeta said sitting next to her.

“You know what is so crazy?”

“No.” Peeta looked at me expectantly.

“I was considering having another baby before it’s to late for us.”

“You were?” His eyebrows shot up.

Katniss nodded. “This may be our last opportunity for another child, before it’s too late.” Katniss glanced at Peeta. “Crazy right?”

“No not so crazy, and you know me I’ve always wanted a gaggle of children. I only want what you want.”

“You do realize Mel will get an inflated head.”

Peeta laughed. “Well it is her idea.”

“How are we going to get them to get along?”

“Mel has to learn that she can’t have it her way all of the time,” Peeta said.

“Is that why you called her to play with you guys?”

“Yup.”

“I knew you would always be the better parent,” Katniss grumbled.

Peeta kissed her and her heart rate tripled. He pulled back and winked at her,  “Let’s make a baby Mrs. Mellark.”

Four months later Katniss found herself hugging the inside of a toilet bowl. “Did I ever tell you how much I hate this part.”

Peeta didn’t answer he put a cool compress to her forehead.

“You going to say anything?”  Katniss laid back against his chest.

“Nope, I’ve learned my lesson.” Peeta diligently wiped her face.

She grinned petting his leg. “Good boy.”

“So we have our appoint with Doc. Stevens  today, excited?”

“I am, there are a few things I would like to understand.” Katniss looked at her belly she’d already popped.  

“Well you’ve been hungry.” Peeta teased.

“Stop making me laugh,” Katniss chuckled.

“So let's get in the shower before Haymitch brings back the little ankle biters back.”

“We're going to be outnumbered after this one you know,” Katniss slowly got up heading for the shower.”

The doctor's office was shut down early so that Katniss could  get her appointment done in privacy.  To this day she was hounded by the pres. Despite fifteen years having passed since the end of the war.

Katniss was laying back on the table as the doctor did a sonogram. She paused momentarily. “Huh,” her doctor said once more moving the wand.

“Is there something wrong?” Peeta asked verbalizing the terror that gripped Katniss heart.

Suddenly they saw it on the small screen, a second baby.

“Looks like you guys are having twins.” The doctor said.

Katniss was shocked and that night as they prepared dinner.  They were all sitting at the table when Mel just came out and asked.

“So mommy are we having a baby?”

Katniss and Peeta looked at the other and said. “Two, but we don’t know if it will be a girl or boy.”

Mel jumped up, “Really! Jasper we’re getting more playmates.”

Jasper laughed.

Mel danced around she’d gotten her wish.

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Title 2:  The Accidental Surprise

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This wasn’t supposed to happen. I wasn’t supposed to get pregnant not again. Peeta and I agreed that we were having two children. Yet here I am pregnant. The stick with the two bright pink permanent lines does not lie.

“Damit, Jo, why did I listen to you?” Katniss rubbed her face she’d casually mentioned how tired I had become recently.

Jo suggested I rule out a pregnancy.

I didn’t want to, in fact I got mad her suggestion and rebuffed her suggestion. But her words were like an annoying song that gets in your brain and you can’t help hum. I tried to ignore her words but after going down for a nap today I decided to give in and take the test.

The lines glare up at me.

How did I come to this moment I wonder, well actually I know how I got here. It was that weekend. Our anniversary, twenty years. Peeta and I well we acted like randy children. My reflection grins back at me. Getting your groove on with your husband and two kids wasn’t easy. Jo and Annie came down and took the kids on a magical weekend trip.

Peeta and I went at it like rabbits, we were barely functioning and walking straight when the kids came home. There are things that don’t work as right as you become older, Peeta’s back gave out on him on one occasion involving a table and on more than one occasion we did fall asleep. Ah the sleep so great to sleep in without an interruption.  

We did much more than sleep we made a baby.

This kid is an undercover agent because I don’t feel the normal signs, like the nausea, the feeling of being sick. The smelling. With both my kids I had a nose that was scientific. I could smell things from all the way in town. I splay my free hand over my belly and wonder if this real or could it be that this is a trick. I’m not exactly young anymore and because of the trauma I suffered in my youth my body is going through the early onset of menopause.

“Hey babe, you almost done in here?” Peeta opens the door and sees me holding the stick.

I smile, “Guess what…”

Peeta rushes in the bath room, he holds the stick. A riot of emotions filter through his face, shock, wonder, and disbelief. “Is this right?”

“The stick says it is.”

His eyes travel from my face to my stomach before traveling back up. “Why did you take the test?”

“Johanna.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I have been tired, more so than normal and I told Jo and she said to take a test to rule it out. I did and I am afraid this is one of false positives.”

Peeta embraced me and I melt taking comfort in his arms. “We’ll make an appointment with doctor Whitcombe.”

I nod against his chest. Three weeks later I sit gripping Peeta’s hand waiting for the results. They had urine and enough of my blood to make my clone. Leaning into his chest I feel his reassurance. The paper gown crinkles as I sit there. I’ve never been good with nudity so Peeta always brings me a blanket to slip on top of the blanket and socks. I need socks like I need air. Peeta doesn’t understand my insistence on wearing socks to bed. If not for the kids he wouldn’t wear anything.

“Do you think they’re taking so long because I am not pregnant and it’s just a hormonal imbalance?” I whisper my unspoken fear. “Do you think there is something else wrong with me?”

“Whatever they find we’ll face it together,” Peeta brings my hand to his mouth.

The brush of his warm lips against the back of my hand.

Dr. Whitcombe comes into the room with her nurse, Many. “Well congratulations are in order.”

“Congratulations,” I parrot back to him.

“We are going to have a maybe, I mean another baby?” Peeta whispers.

“Another.” Dr. Whitcombe smiled looking at them both. “You’re going to have twins.”

[ellanainthetardis]

And the madnes begins! [FF] or [AO3]

25. Thirty weeks

“Lamest wedding ever.” Johanna declared as they neared the slope leading up the Village.

Snowball was running ahead, jumping into puddles of melted snow, generally having the time of his life and making Haymitch internally cringe because Effie would insist on giving him a bath and that meant he would have to do it. With the crash-course wedding the following day and her urge to make sure the house was ready for the baby, she had been in a frenzy for a week and she was tired, cranky and, frankly, a bit crazy.

Annie, Jo and little Finn had arrived a couple of days earlier and Haymitch had been very happy to see them if only because they were a nice distraction. Effie spent most of her time fussing over Finn, Annie was keen on helping her in any way she could… It gave Haymitch some room to breathe.

When he had suggested they got married, he hadn’t really understood what it would imply. Sure, the wedding party was small: Jo, Annie, the kids and her family. They weren’t going to have a huge celebration but it didn’t make it any easier to organize. There would be champagne and a cake but there would be no dancing and no big party since Effie was in no shape for that – something her mother seemed to have trouble grasping. Elindra had finally relented a few days earlier about the wedding planner and the party of the year and what not, but Effie was determined to have everything else go perfectly not to have to endure remarks and Haymitch was already very done with the whole thing.

He wanted to marry her.

He just didn’t need the pump.

Her family had been due to arrive any minute when he had dragged Johanna out of the house under the pretence of picking up the rings from the shop – if he had been forced to endure her inspecting the house one more time he would have gone completely mad.

“I mean… Trinket used to know how to party.” Jo sighed. “And you used to have the best booze. We’re not even getting a stag night or a hen night… What kind of lame stuff is this?”

“She’s almost eight months pregnant and I’m sober.” he grumbled.

Johanna rolled her eyes and buried her hands in the pockets of her jacket. They were walking very slowly and he suspected she wasn’t any more eager to get back than he was.

“That’s why you’re marrying her?” she asked. “’Cause she’s knocked up?”

“You know why I’m marrying her.” he snapped.

She shrugged. “Yeah, well… Sorry. Can’t say I ever pictured you raising a kid with a crazy chick.”

“Could say the same about you.” he pointed out.

“It’s different.” Johanna scoffed. “I’m doing it for Finnick.”

“Sure.” he humored her because she wouldn’t have taken nicely to being told it was obvious she loved the boy like her own. He tossed her an annoyed look. “You’re the worst best man ever. Wonder why I picked you.”

“’Cause I’m your last best friend alive.” she snorted bitterly.

And it kind of summed it up.

He let that sink for a while, briefly pausing when they reached the open iron gates of the Village. Snowball had his front paws on the edge of the fountain, his tail wagging left and right as he studied the bird that was hopping around on the other side.

“It wasn’t exactly planned.” he admitted a bit out of the blue because he needed to get it off his chest and he needed another victor’s opinion. Not the kids’ because the kids were his and he couldn’t burden them. But Jo, now… “But maybe it’s gonna be a good thing, yeah? ��Cause… I’m happy, right now. It’s good, right? It’s…”

“If you’re looking for absolution, don’t ask me ‘cause I’ve got no fucking clue.” Jo asked. “You’re asking me if you’re allowed to be happy? Better than rotting alone in your house. They messed with our lives enough.”

“Seems unfair.” he muttered. “That we’re here and…”

“Yeah.” she cut him off with a shrug. “It’s damn unfair. But it’s what it is.”

“I guess.” he echoed.

They resumed walking in silence, that particular conversation buried amongst things they would never discuss again.

Snowball rushed inside the house with a joyful bark as soon as he opened the door, as usual making a beeline for Effie. Not that Haymitch would have needed that much to find her. He only had to follow the noise. Clearly, Elindra had arrived.

The living-room was full.

Katniss was awkwardly standing in a corner, looking ready to make her escape, Effie was sitting on the couch with her mother and another Capitol woman he guessed to be her sister, two boys who must have been her nephews were sitting on the armchairs with their back straight, looking very bored but determined to act like dignified gentlemen, Annie was standing next to the fireplace with Finn on her hip and Tadius was inspecting the bookshelves.

Haymitch felt a bit like he had walked in on a circus.

“Haymitch.” Tadius greeted him, sounding almost relieved.

And from what he had overheard when he had come in, he understood why. Talks of dresses, fabrics and designs weren’t exactly his favorite things either. He shook the man’s hand with a small smile, happy to see him despite his natural misgivings about Capitols.

“Haymitch, I am terribly crossed. You should have met us at the station.” Elindra declared without further ado, holding out her cheek in a manner that immediately sent him in a panic. He glanced at Effie in distress but she was biting down on her bottom lip to prevent herself from laughing and she gave him a small shrug that probably meant he should get on with it. He pecked the powdered cheek as lightly as he could but it was enough to make the woman frown. “You are shaving for the wedding naturally.”

It wasn’t a question and Haymitch chose to forget answering.

“Sorry, Mrs Trinket.” he said instead. “I had to…”

Elindra pointedly cleared her throat.

He licked his lips, annoyed that she hadn’t gotten over that fancy yet.

A glance at Effie told him it wasn’t in his best interest to make her life any more difficult than it already was.

“I had to pick up the rings.” he grated through his teeth. “Mother.”

It was nearly worth it if only to see Katniss almost choke to death and to hear Johanna’s mix of a chuckle and a gasp.

The stranger saved him from further embarrassment by standing up and outstretching a hand. He figured it was meant to be kissed but he shook it instead.

“I am Lyssa.” the woman unnecessarily clarified, sounding a bit reserved. With reasons, he supposed. The rebels had executed her husband after all. “Those are my sons, Timotheo and Bryden. Boys, greet your new uncle.”

It was uncanny how the kids simply nodded and mechanically uttered a nice to meet you. They must have been around ten but they were strangled by ties and little three pieces suits… Ridiculous.

“How charming they are.” Elindra beamed, missing the point completely, before placing her hand on Effie’s stomach. “I hope this one turns out just as well.”

He and Effie only had to exchange a look to agree that was unlikely to ever happen.

“Now, now…” Elindra declared, checking her golden watch. “Haymitch, it is time to say your goodbyes. You cannot see the bride the day before the wedding… Are you staying at Katniss and Peeta’s house tonight? How kind of them to host you… But you must be so happy for your friends, I am sure…”

That last part was addressed to Katniss. The girl didn’t have time to answer.

“We are not doing that, Mother.” Effie cut in. “Haymitch is staying here with me.”

Elindra and Lyssa both frowned.

“But you must.” her mother insisted.

“She’s pregnant.” Haymitch retorted.

“We have not spent a night apart since I moved in.” Effie added.

“But… Effie, it is bad luck!” Lyssa coaxed, grabbing her sister’s hand.

“We already got all the bad luck we could get.” Haymitch snorted. “We endure.”

The Capitol women weren’t exactly pleased with that dissent from tradition, he could tell, but they shared a look and probably decided to pick their battles because next…

“Now, darling…” Elindra cleared her throat, ignoring him to turn to her youngest daughter. “I know you said you were taking care of everything and we should not worry about a thing…”

“I know you want a simple wedding but really the thought of you marrying in less than the best…” Lyssa continued. “Do not be angry with us… We wanted to surprise you and it will be such fun… I am sure your friends will love it too…”

Effie looked wary. “What did you do?”

Haymitch hoped there wasn’t a wedding planner hiding somewhere in the vicinity.

“We might have brought a couple of dresses with us.” Elindra ventured. “A few wedding dresses for you to choose from and some spare bridesmaid dresses for your friends…”

“Five trunks.” Tadius told Haymitch behind a fake cough. “And there is another one with a suit for you, an outfit for the Odesta child as well as one for your dog.”

Johanna immediately snatched little Finn from Annie. “Hey, brainless… How about you show us around the woods? Finn gets cranky if he doesn’t get enough fresh air.”

Katniss jumped on the excuse and the two of them weren’t exactly polite in their hurry to get out of there, even if Effie tried to smooth ruffled feathers.

“Are you terribly mad?” Lyssa sighed.

“Mad?” Effie repeated, her eyes shiny. She hugged her sister tight. “My dress is terrible. I could not find one that did not make me look like an air balloon…”

“Never fear!” Elindra beamed. “We brought only the best. We will have such fun trying them on… They might need a few alterations though. I was confident we could find a seamstress in your District…”

“I can do it.” Effie answered.

“And I can help.” Annie piped in with a small dreamy smile. “But I don’t want to intrude… I can probably catch up with Johanna and Katniss if…”

Amongst the loud assurances that Annie wouldn’t be intruding at all, Haymitch started inching back toward the door, one step at a time. It was too late for the puppy who, tired of being ignored by Effie, had wandered over to the two boys. The youngest one – Bryden, if he remembered correctly – clearly was having trouble resisting the urge to pet him. He kept tossing covert glances at his mother and grandmother… His brother wasn’t faring any better, shuffling on his seat, eyeing the puppy with open interest…

Suddenly, they looked less like Capitol drones and more like kids who were trying really hard to behave.

“There’s a playground in town.” he told Tadius. “We could take the boys.”

Escape, he meant.

The offer seemed to tempt the man greatly but his eyes were wild, a bit scared maybe.

“By ourselves?” Tadius winced. “Their nanny is at the inn. Perhaps we should make a detour.”

He glanced back at the kids who really didn’t look that frightening.

“I think we can deal.” he snorted. “Hey, sweetheart…” Rudely interrupted in the middle of her speech of gratefulness, Effie pursed her lips and tossed him a mild glare. He didn’t give her time to start ranting about manners. “I’m going to show your dad and your nephews around town, alright? This way you can have some girl time.”

Effie’s annoyance disappeared but he could tell she wasn’t quite fooled by the apparently selfless offer. “It is very nice of you, thank you.”

The boys seemed very happy about that plan. The youngest one looked up at him with big pleading blue eyes. “Can we take the dog with us, please?”

“Sure.” he smirked. He whistled once and the puppy immediately ran to his feet, which warranted impressed gasps from the children.

“Only the two of you?” Lyssa asked, sounding unsure. Her gaze darting from him to her father with worry. “Are you certain, Father? You have never been alone with the children without Nanny before, have you?”

His pride in jeopardy now that it had been implied he couldn’t take care of two ten years old by himself, Tadius bristled. “I do not plan on misplacing your children, Lyssandra.”

“She does have a point though, dear.” Elindra insisted, clearly mystified. “I do not remember you ever being left alone with children…”

“Haymitch took care of Finn plenty of times.” Annie cut him with a sweet smile he didn’t deserve.

“Can we go, Mother?” Bryden asked, eyeing Snowball with longing. “We will behave for Uncle Haymitch and Grandfather, I promise. Won’t we, Timotheo?”

How old was that kid to talk that way? Did they have proper speech lessons in the Capitol? He was ready to bet on that being a thing.

The other boy nodded very seriously, as if he was thirty instead of ten. “I will help Grandfather and Uncle Haymitch supervise Bryden, Mother.”

Lyssa didn’t really look happy about it but it seemed she couldn’t say no to her children because next thing Haymitch knew, everyone was getting their coat and they were being escorted to the door by a frantic Capitol woman.

“Please, do not hesitate to fetch Nanny at the inn if they become too much trouble.” Lyssa warned, obviously scared they would lose the children or let them get hurt.

“Tell you what, sweetheart…” he smirked, somehow understanding where her worry was coming from – the shrimp wasn’t born yet and he was already imagining a thousand scenarios where things turned badly. “I take care of your kids and you make sure Effie doesn’t overdo it, yeah? Don’t let her fool you, okay? Watch out for the signs ‘cause she says she’s fine but the next thing you know, she’s feeling dizzy. Tomorrow’s going to be stressful enough…”

“I do know how to take care of my sister.” Lyssa cut him off, almost with a vexed huff. “I have been doing it since she was born.” A poor job, she had done, but Haymitch chose to keep his peace on that. It was between Lyssa and Effie, after all. She sighed. “I will make sure she is reasonable. Do try not to lose or break my children.”

The door closed and the four of them were left alone in the front yard. At first, nobody moved. Tadius was watching the boys with obvious wariness, the boys were tossing covert glances at them, Haymitch was trying not to feel too much out of place… Then, as if their strings had been cut, the kids abandoned the perfect gentlemen act and crouched next to the puppy who seemed delighted with the attention.

Bryden outstretched a hand and then seemed to remember himself and looked at him, eyes shining with excitement. “May I pet him?”

Haymitch snorted at the formality. “You can pet him, you can play with him… Just don’t tug on his fur and don’t be too rough.”

Finn was finding it very funny to try to ride the puppy like a pony.

“How do you play with him?” Timotheo asked, tentatively touching the dog’s nose.

Snowball immediately nuzzled his hand with a joyful bark. The puppy liked kids. He was always eager to play with the ones in the neighborhood. Bryden giggled when the puppy’s head bumped in his chest, the boy lost his balance and fell backward in the thin coat of snow, which seemed to delight him.

“Do not get dirty!” Tadius panicked. “Your mother and your grandmother won’t like that at all.” He shot a warning glance at Haymitch. “We should not let them get dirty.”

The boys both looked disappointed and Haymitch rolled his eyes. “You can blame it on me. Okay… How to play with a puppy, lesson one.”

He taught them how to play tug and fetch in front of a bemused Tadius who didn’t seem willing to get involved in the game. Haymitch didn’t mind running after the kids and the dog. He found it sad that the kids were forced to be so serious all the time because it was clear that, when they were allowed to go wild, they were just as boisterous as any other child he had met.

Eventually, Tadius reminded them they were supposed to visit the District and not spend their time in the yard and they all started walking in the direction of the Village’s gates. Haymitch watched the kids run along the puppy a few feet in front of them, feeling strangely impatient for a time when it would be his own boy.

“Do you have a lot of experience with children?” Tadius asked after a few seconds, either impressed or puzzled.

“More than I’d like.” he replied, deliberately vague.

He didn’t think Timotheo was much older than twelve, even if it was difficult to pinpoint an exact age for the two boys, and he had had his share of dealing with twelve years old. Never believing that the children had a chance had never meant he hadn’t somehow gotten involved in the mentoring at some point. Effie had borne most of it. But… There had been years and children more gifted than others at making him care no matter how much he had wanted to pretend he hadn’t.

“Have you started looking into nannies or governesses?” the Capitol man asked.

He made a face. “We’re not getting one.”

“I see.” Tadius cleared his throat. “We would be willing to help if…”

“It’s not a money question, we just don’t want a nanny.” he interrupted him. He tried not to be too cutting. “We don’t need money.”

“Are you certain?” the man insisted. “Because I know for a fact Effie does not have any. I had to settle a few of her debts when she left the city. Not that she knew it was me, of course. Actually, Elindra does not know either and I would appreciate if…”

“No problem.” he promised easily enough. He waited for a second before speaking again. “And we really don’t need money.” It would have angered him if anyone else had tried to meddle in his private affairs but, truth be told, he felt Tadius had a right to ask the question. He was about to marry the man’s daughter. Any father worthy of the title would have wanted to make sure the groom could support their daughter and eventual family. It was awkward, yes, but Haymitch didn’t consider it out of the normal range of things to ask a future son-in-law. “Life in Twelve isn’t expensive and victors still get their monthly stipends… I’ve saved almost everything I got since my Games anyway… Never had real need for it. So, sure, the baby made a dent in the budget but we’re really not tight.”

“Good to hear.” Tadius approved with a nod. “Did you invest part of the money? You should invest. I can help you with that if you wish.” Before he could politely decline, the Capitol moved on to another topic. “Elindra and I will open a trust fund for your son as soon as he is born.” Haymitch opened his mouth but Tadius waved his hand. “Do not protest. We did it for all our grandchildren. They won’t come into the money until they are eighteen, at which point they will be able to use it however they see fit. I, for one, hope it will be for university although…” He sighed, his eyes on the boys that had obediently stopped at the Village’s gates to wait for them. “Timotheo and Bryden will both inherit a considerable wealth from their father at their coming of age and neither of them seemed to be eager to pursue a higher education. I had hoped one of my grandsons would take up the family business after I am gone but I fear they will follow in their father’s footsteps and become men of leisure.”

Haymitch studied the boys who looked in awe of the dog and frowned. “They’re still young.”

“They took very much after their parents.” Tadius shrugged. “Lyssandra never had any ambition and Rufus never had the means to reach his.” Regret laced his voice next. “I was too harsh with Effie in her youth. I underestimated her potential. I do not think she would have ever managed to be an architect like she wanted to… But she could have done more than capitalize on her looks.”

“She likes to play dumb.” he commented cautiously, waving the boys on as they caught up with them. Snowball darted forward and the kids ran after him, laughing all the while, sounding so free that Haymitch understood that they weren’t often allowed to go wild like that.

“Yes, I understood that only too late.” Effie’s father agreed with a small sad smile. “I never knew my daughters as much as I would have liked. They were their mother’s dolls and all those beauty pageants and hot gossips… I am a businessman. I do not understand that world.”

“Can’t say I do either.” he snorted. “But Effie’s much more than that.”

He was a bit defensive and it seemed to amuse Tadius.

“Lyssa was the easiest one. Always eager to please… Always happy…” the Capitol man shook his head. “Effie was more difficult. Elindra is used to being obeyed in every little thing, Effie always found ways to work around that. When she was thirteen… Why, I used to marvel at the way she could talk back without actually rising her voice or being rude – when she was directing her ire at Elindra at least.”

“Sounds like my girl.” he smirked, stupidly proud of her for rebelling against her gilded cage even then.

“She used to have a terrible crush on you, you realize.” Tadius mocked. “You were all she could talk about from the Quell to your Victory Tour. We lost Elindra’s father some time in between… They were so close… It pained her very badly… The first time I saw her smile after his passing was when she got Golden Tickets for the Tour. Elindra wasn’t keen but Effie insisted on going to every last event. Lyssa and I took turn escorting her. I cannot say I was a fan of it… All those young girls screaming at you…”  

“Yeah.” He made a face and buried his hands in his pockets. It wasn’t fond recollections for him, even if it amused him a little to know Effie had been amongst the crowd. “Can’t say I enjoyed it much myself.”

“I suppose not.” Effie’s father approved. “Still… The last event was a signing… I do not know what you said to her that day but she came home and declared she was utterly done with you.”

It was a part of the story he didn’t know about and he didn’t remember her at all. Why would he? She had only been a teenager amongst thousands. However he could guess he hadn’t been kind. It was only when Chaff had impressed upon him the necessity of playing nice with Capitols to get sponsors and help the tributes that he had started to behave a little less harshly.

“I don’t mind the trust fund.” he said, switching topics because he knew Effie would hate being discussed behind her back. “If it’s for the kid’s future, it’s fine with me.”

“I will settle it in his name as soon as he’s born.” Tadius offered, placidly accepting that new line of conversation. “Have you agreed on a name yet?”

“No.” Haymitch snorted. “We’ve got a list of maybes but… None of them feels right.”

The playground appeared in the distance and they walked in silence for a while, watching the boys rushing toward it with the puppy in tow.

“May I suggest Aidan?” the Capitol said, a bit awkward. “It was my father’s name. If we had been blessed with a son… It has always been a dream of mine to see another Aidan Trinket running my company.”

“Abernathy.” Haymitch corrected automatically. “And we’re not raising him up to fill anyone’s shoes. He’ll do whatever he wants. No family obligation.”

“Of course.” Tadius chuckled. “I didn’t mean to imply any different.”

There wasn’t really any time to give him an answer about names… It turned out taking two boys to the local playground was much more difficult than entertaining them in the front yard. Capitols and Districts didn’t mix well. It didn’t take long for Effie’s nephews to rub on some of the District children the wrong way and for an argument to start. It involved crying children, sulking spoiled brats and screaming mothers. Tadius was absolutely no help.

When they eventually made their way back home, Haymitch was nursing a bad headache and wasn’t as eager for the shrimp to come out. As long as he remained in Effie’s uterus, there would be no tantrums and no screwing up.

Despite the not so awesome end to the outing, the boys seemed to have taken a real liking to him and didn’t act as stiff around Tadius as they used to – something which seemed to make the Capitol man marvel.

Effie was having tea with Lyssandra and Elindra and the three of them all looked impressed enough by the fact they had brought back both children in one piece. It made him feel slightly better. At least until he and Snowball were forced to try on the suits they had brought along for the wedding.

He grumbled and raged and complained and even whined but Elindra wouldn’t be deterred and Effie didn’t save him from his fate. She was too busy fussing over the puppy with her sister – because clearly it was more important to make sure the bowtie fitted Snowball perfectly rather than saving him from her mother’s claws.

Getting married, he soon decided, was exhausting and it was a good thing they would only do it once.

By the time they finally went to bed that night, he was ready to give up on the whole thing.

“How are you doing, sweetheart?” he asked, spooning her. She was still having trouble finding a comfortable position at night and she had taken to propping her stomach on pillows. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pressed a kiss on her shoulder. “You were supposed to take it easy.”

She sighed and burrowed a little more against his chest. “Well, if I had had more time to organize the wedding…”

“Wanna get out of it?” he challenged.

“Don’t you dare.” she hissed. “Now I have a perfect dress.”

She sounded very pleased about that.  

He hid his smirk in her nape, simply happy that she was happy.

“Your dad had some things to say…” he told her because he didn’t keep things from her if he didn’t have to. He summed up the conversation about the trust fund. She didn’t look surprised though, she was probably aware of the same dispositions having been made for her nephews.

“It will be nice for him.” she hummed, rubbing her stomach. “They did the same thing for Lyssa and I. We had both already started working well before our coming of age but the money was a nice plus.”

Haymitch let out a non committing noise. He didn’t like the idea of growing up with a silver spoon in the mouth but he also couldn’t deny knowing their child would be safe from poverty was a relief. He had grown up in a world without certainty and he didn’t want that for his son.

“He suggested a name.” he added, as an afterthought.

“Yes?” she frowned. “Which one? My mother suggested Eustorgio and you vetoed it.”

“Aidan.” he said.

“Like my grandfather?” she asked, drawing circles on her baby bump. “I never knew him, you know. He died when Lyssa was two or three…”

“I like the name.” he admitted. It wasn’t outrageous for a Capitol name and it was strong. It was a good sensible name. He could see himself calling his son Aidan.

“It sounds… close to Hayden.” she pointed out carefully.

Close but not quite.

It hadn’t escaped him.

It was close enough that it could be consider a wink of sort but it was far enough that the name wouldn’t carry any memory.

“I’m good with it.” he offered.

“Aidan…” she repeated, testing it out. “Aidan… Yes… Yes, it could work. Aidan…” She groaned and he figured that meant she had been kicked. She let out a chuckle, talking to her stomach. “Well. If you approve…”  

“Aidan.” he smiled, covering her hand with his.

“Aidan.” she grinned, stretching her neck to kiss him over her shoulder.

It seemed the shrimp had a name after all.

[everlarkbirthdaydrabbles]

Happy Birthday titaniasfics

Happy birthday @titaniasfics! To help you celebrate in style, here’s a little bit of Everlark PwP, just for you. Enjoy! And thank you @thegirlfromoverthepond for the request.

Campfire

rated E

This is not camping.

This little slice of dirt, surrounded by giant trailers and caravans, with their generators humming and televisions flashing. That’s not camping! Who comes out to the ‘wilderness’ just to watch TV anyway?

Nothing about this trip has gone according to plan. The tent I borrowed from Gale can hardly be called a tent at all, ‘pop-up coffin’ might better describe it. My sleeping bag fits in there. Sort of. But nothing else. He, of course, has the huge tent we usually share, and a mattress on a stand, because heaven forbid Madge soil herself by sleeping on the ground.

Madge.

I should have realized, when Gale suggested inviting a bunch of friends along on our annual trip to the woods, that what he really meant was he wanted to bring his new girlfriend. And the red flags should have been flying when, instead of our typical backcountry camping, he suggested a drive up site. “But it’s right on the lake,” he’d insisted. “We can swim and fish, it’s going to be amazing!”

I guess his girlfriend prancing around in high-heeled sandals and a bikini about as big as a bandana, while refusing to actually go in the water (it’s not chlorinated!) is his definition of fun.

Who am I kidding, of course it’s his definition of fun. He looks at her like she hung the moon.

I’m not jealous, or at least, not in the way you might think. It’s just that Gale and I have been friends since we were kids. A brotherhood of sorts. Partners in crime like that are hard to find.

“What did that log ever do to you, Everdeen?” Peeta chuckles behind me. I lodge my hatchet in the end of a stump, and turn to scowl at him, but I'm pretty sure it's unconvincing.

Peeta's been, by far, the best part of the day. When Madge declared the hiking trail too long and too hot, Delly was quick to agree. Gale and Jo were more than happy to escort their girlfriends back to camp. But Peeta insisted on continuing, just him and me.

And it was amazing. I had so much fun wandering the woods with him. Chatting, or just listening to the steady racket of him stepping on every leaf and tripping over every root behind me. With anyone else it would have driven me insane. But it's hard to be annoyed with Peeta Mellark.

We went to school together, he and I, but we never talked much, never ran in the same circles. That changed when his friend Delly started dating my friend Johanna a few months ago. Since then, we've gotten to know each other over weekend gatherings and pub nights with our common friends.

And the more I get to know him, the more I get to see of his kind and generous nature, the more I like him. I don't make friends easily, but with Peeta it just feels effortless. He’s sort of snuck up on me.

“I think that tree is dead now, Katniss,” he laughs. It’s true; instead of kindling, I’ve reduced it to matchsticks. I shrug.

“Doesn’t matter anyway. Everyone is going to the amphitheatre to watch a movie instead of having a bonfire.” Another reason I’m pissed off. A movie? Who wants to spend two hours watching Bridget Jones whine and stuff her face when we could stare into the flames, contemplate our existence in the cosmos while watching the sparks float into the night sky?

“Not a movie fan,” he asks, but before I can yell I see his smirk, and I know he’s teasing me. “It is a little strange,” he says softly. “To come out here, only to to be glued to a screen. As if we’re still in the city. Such a wasted opportunity.” He looks up into the dusky sky, streaks of orange split the shades of blue and violet. The first stars stealing through.

I shrug. “I like movies, honestly,” I tell him. “But… I don’t know. I look forward to this trip every year. And this year it’s just been…”

“Disappointing?” he supplies. He’s still looking up at the sky, but he looks sad. As if it matters to him that I’m disappointed in the trip.

I’m not, or not exactly anyway. True, it’s been nothing like I’d planned, nothing like I’m accustomed to. But there have been some bright spots. All of which have involved Peeta. “Not disappointing,” I murmur, and my soft tone makes him glance my way. “Just different.”

He flashes me a smile that seems so genuinely sweet with just the right touch of shyness that unexpected warmth rushes through me. “Different can be good,” he says. And I smile.

“Different can be good,” I agree.

He reaches for my hand. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” I answer without hesitation. Apart from my sister Prim, Peeta might be the only person I'm certain I can trust. He twines our fingers together and tugs me away from the campsite, pausing only to grab his backpack. We head down the dark path that I know leads to the lake.

The moon hangs low in the sky, spilling across the water in glossy silver waves. He guides us along the shore, remarkably surefooted for a guy who couldn't traverse the woods in broad daylight without banging into every branch. Finally, he stops at a rocky outcrop where a tidy stack of split firewood waits. “What's this?” I ask.

“Campfire,” he grins. And I laugh. But something warm flares in my chest, and I have to glance away before I do something stupid like kiss him.

Peeta's a whiz with fires, coaxing a spark into a roaring flame within a few minutes. He rifles through his pack, pulling out an old camp blanket and spreading it on the rock. There's barely room for both of us, but I find I don't mind sitting pressed against him. I don't mind at all.   

We watch the flames for awhile, not really talking. Then he reaches into his pack, pulling out a bag of Jet Puffed marshmallows. “Not even homemade,” I tease. “You’re off your game, Mellark.”

He affects a mock wounded expression, and then reaches back into the bag for a tupperware container. When he pops the corner of the lid I melt.

Homemade graham crackers. Of course.

He has thin bars of chocolate too, not the crappy stuff I usually buy, but good Ghirardelli chocolate, dark and rich.

It's sweet, sitting side by side, toasting marshmallows in silence. Flickering firelight plays across his handsome face, highlighting his straight nose and sharp jaw. But it's his eyelashes that I'm a little fixated on, so pale you don't normally notice them, but golden in the fire’s amber glow. And so long I can't figure out how they don't get all tangled up when he blinks.

He catches me staring, but he doesn't tease me. He just smiles.

He's perfectly controlled, turning his marshmallow precisely until it's golden on every side. I rush; mine ends up partially charred and only half melted. “How do you do that so perfectly?” I mutter as I yet again blow out the sugar-fuelled inferno on the end of my stick.

He laughs, just softly. “I think you'll find I'm a very patient man, Katniss,” he says, and his eyes twinkle. And I can't help thinking we're not talking about marshmallows anymore.

Of course, when he slides his bit of liquified sugar perfection off the stick and onto a chocolate-ladened cookie, he holds it out for me to take.

There's something in the way he's looking at me, smiling eyes soft and affectionate, that emboldens me. I take a chance and lean in, guiding his hand towards my face, encouraging him to feed me the delicacy himself.

I hold his gaze hostage as I wrap my lips around the decadent treat, watching the firelight play across the dark oceans of his eyes. I groan as the rich chocolate and gooey sugar caress my tongue, and Peeta swallows hard. When I pull back to chew, strings of glistening white marshmallow cling to my chin. His nostrils flare, and he reaches for me, almost as if his hand has a mind of its own.

He tries to wipe away the sticky bits but really only succeeds in making it worse. But I don't care; the feeling of his large, warm hand on my face is making my heart pound in the most thrilling way. My eyes slip closed, and when I can pry them open again his are fixed on my mouth, where my tongue collects the sweet chocolate remnants of our treat. I don't know how we got so close, his every breath whispers across my lips.

He starts to pull his hand away, but I wrap my fingers around his, keeping him in place, nuzzling his hand just a little. “Katniss?” My name is a question, and I answer it the only way I know how. I close the gap between us.

His lips are soft, softer than any man’s have a right to be. And after a shocked little half inhale, they move against mine eagerly.

And it's incredible.

The cookie gets tossed aside somewhere and his other hand tangles in my hair. I groan at the twin sensations of his fingers carding through my hair and his tongue stroking my own sensuously. Even his kisses are methodical, measured, as he learns what makes me whimper. He pulls back just an inch. “Is this real?” he pants. “Please tell me it's real.”

“God, I hope so,” I moan, then kiss him again. He smiles against my lips.

His arms move to engulf me, warm and steady, even as he continues to kiss me. “Do you have any idea,” he whispers as our lips part just enough to drag in gulps of clean night air. “How long I’ve wanted this?” His lips trail along my jaw, nibbling at a spot just under my ear that makes me gasp. “How long I’ve wanted you?”

I shiver, his lips and his words ignite a fire low in my belly. I lie back on the blanket and tug him to follow, until he’s hovering over me, thick forearms braced by my head. His eyes are cautious, but his pupils are blown wide and I can feel his excitement pressed against my hip. “I want you too,” I whisper, and his smile lights up the night.

Unlike other guys I've fooled around with, Peeta takes his time. He kisses me languidly, trailing his fingers over the soft skin of my belly, but no further, teasing me until I'm squirming and arching, wordlessly begging for more. I try to pull him into the cradle of my thighs, desperate to feel him hard where I need him, but he resists, smiling against my skin. “Patience,” he chides gently. “I've waited so long. I want to savour you.”

“Please touch me,” I whimper. His sharp little intake of air encourages me, I grab his wrist, loosely, so he could pull away if he really wanted to. But he doesn’t, letting me drag his fingers under my shirt until I shyly release them just below my bikini top. It’s all the encouragement he needs, that large, warm hand cups my breast and I moan.

“Oh shit, Katniss,” he gasps, his hand squeezing convulsively. “You are perfect. You are so fucking perfect.” Hearing those foul words fall from Peeta Mellark’s sweet pink lips might be the biggest turn-on of my life. Knowing it’s me making him lose control.

I throw caution to the wind and wriggle my t-shirt off entirely. Peeta’s eyes are wide in the moonlight as he gazes down at me. I’m still wearing the simple bikini top I was wearing earlier at the lake. It's nothing special, not like Madge was wearing, and I certainly don't fill it out the way Madge fills out hers. But Peeta looks at me as if I'm something exotic. He shudders, a low groan rumbling from his chest. Then his head descends, and his tongue traces the slight swell of my breast just above my bikini.

I thread my fingers through his soft golden curls, and surrender to his maddeningly slow exploration. His lips and tongue and teeth worship my small mounds before finally - finally - he nudges aside my top and exposes my tight nipples to the night air. When his lips close over one aching bud I swear I see stars. I moan and writhe, tug his hair and arch into him. I can feel his smile against my skin.

My hand sneaks up under his shirt, finding taut muscle that flexes under my fingers. Peeta’s not ripped, but he’s strong and lean and hard in all the right places. He's perfect.

His own hand slides up my thigh, slipping under my shorts to palm my ass. I'm so aroused, and seconds away from begging.

The sound of laughter and splashing comes from down the beach and we both freeze. “Shit,” Peeta gasps, angling his body to shelter mine even though no one can see us here. Protecting me. Something warm flares in my heart. “I'm sorry,” he says, tugging my top back into place. “I shouldn't--”

“Can we take this back to your tent?” I interrupt. The look he gives me is smouldering.

It's takes a few moments to smother the coals of our forgotten fire and toss our snack back into Peeta's pack. Then we're rushing hand in hand along the dark path, back to our site.

We sneak up carefully, but the others haven't returned. Thankfully. No distractions.

We crawl into Peeta’s tent, more than three times the size of my little coffin and with a comfy looking double-sized inflatable mattress in the middle. I ditch my boots, shoving my striped hiking socks into the toe, then sit on the edge of his bed before my nerves can get in the way, wrapping my arms around my knees.

Peeta creeps towards me, chuckling. “What?” I ask. In answer, he grabs my foot, pressing a kiss to my toes as I squirm.

“My favourite colour,” he says, stroking my orange-painted toenail.

“I know,” I admit with a half smile. His expression darkens, with a last kiss to my ankle he sets my foot down and cups my face in those huge hands. And then he’s kissing me, not slowly, not any more. He kisses me with barely restrained passion, stealing my breath and my senses with every shocking sweep of his tongue. It’s electrifying. It's magic.

This time, he’s the one who lays me back, and then he crawls between my thighs, the hard length of him pressing against me. I can’t help but groan, the twin sensations of his tongue thrusting in my mouth while he grinds against me are almost enough to send me spiralling over the edge already. And it’s not just that he’s so damned sexy, or so damned good at this. It’s that it’s him, Peeta Mellark. The only boy who ever caught my eye in high school, the one I thought about all through college.

I claw at his shirt, trying to pull it off, to feel the broad expanse of his sun kissed skin under my palms. He kneels over me, whipping the shirt off and affording me just a moment to appreciate his firm chest and sculpted abs, a masterpiece in the moonlight. He's beautiful, strong and broad and perfect. Then all of that glorious sun-kissed skin is pressed against me, warming me even as his lips and tongue and wandering fingers set my blood to boil.

He’s so patient, so controlled in the way he touches me, but there's nothing boring about it. He reads me like a book, and each time his mouth and hands coax me right to the brink of begging, to the point where I think I can take no more, he somehow understands, pushing further, delighting me anew.

My bikini top disappears into the dim, the rasp of his stubble on my sensitive skin in sharp contrast to the featherlight kisses he presses everywhere as he slides sinuously down my body. Then he's tugging my shorts and bikini bottom off, baring me to his greedy eyes. I pull at his shorts with far less finesse, and he acquiesces to their removal, but when I reach for him, aching to weigh the hot length of him, he retreats. “Not yet,” he whispers, and the sound is so raw, so needy, I know how desperately he wants me to touch him.

Almost as desperately as I want him to touch me.

He pushes me gently back, spreading my thighs wide. I can't even feel shy about what I think he's planning to do as he stares at me, unblinking and licking his lips. “Please,” I beg.

He locks eyes with me just briefly, just  long enough for me to see his desire, desire I'm sure is mirrored in my own expression. But still he takes his time, pressing tickling kisses along my thighs, making me squirm. When those thick fingers finally part my folds, I almost come. “Fuck,” he groans, and I shiver. “You're so wet.” My retort is lost in a strangled cry of his name as his talented tongue laves a hot trail along my slit.

Never once had I ever imagined Peeta's silver tongue painting masterpieces across my aching flesh. And now that I've experienced it I know I'll never forget. That the soft groans he presses into me as he thrusts into me with his tongue and laps up my arousal will be the soundtrack to my every future fantasy. Every hot flick of his tongue guides me higher, higher than I've ever been. His lips curl around my sensitive little nub and he hums; I can do nothing but wail invocations to the nylon sky as the rapture rises up to claim me and I'm forever changed.

I'm still whimpering and pulsing with the last waves of the most spectacular orgasm of my life when he crawls up my body, pulling my boneless limbs into his warm embrace. “That was so fucking hot,” he murmurs against my temple. I can feel him hard against my hip, a bead of pre-come slick against my skin. I want him. I want more.

“Please tell me you have a condom,” I pant, and he nods, pushing himself up onto his knees. A shaft of moonlight illuminates his cock, proudly jutting out, long and thick and mouthwatering, as he shuffles not to his discarded shorts for his wallet, but to a side pocket in his backpack. The same backpack he'd packed for our campfire.

Only when he returns to me does he seem to realize the implication. “I, uh. I didn't mean… I mean, I wasn't planning--”

“I'm glad you have them,” I tell him, pulling him back down for another blistering kiss. “I want you, Peeta.”

His teeth glow white in the dim as he grins. “I've waited years to hear you say that,” he says. At my incredulous expression, he chuckles. “You have no idea, the effect you have.”

I have no answer for that, so I kiss him. I've always been better with actions than words.

He pulls back to sheathe himself, then crawls over me. His eyes are almost electric in the dim, huge and excited. And even still he's infuriatingly patient, taking himself in hand, teasing me with his latex-enrobed tip until finally I grab his ass and pull him against me. I moan at the feeling of him nestled between my folds, not entering me, not yet. Just sliding in all of the wetness. He must like it too, because he swears softly under his breath and thrusts against me.

Peeta kisses me softly, tracing my lips with his tongue as he rocks with me, each deliberate stroke making me gasp and mewl.

Finally, after a groaning, shuddering eternity, he shifts and positions himself at my entrance. He's big, and it's been awhile, but I'm so turned on and he's so controlled. He fills me in one long stroke, and I feel everything in me stretch - my body to accommodate his, my heart with a swell of affection for this man, this kind, beautiful, gentle man.

When he's completely buried in me he stops, head tipped back, eyes closed. I can feel the tension in his body, see how his neck muscles strain, sharp in the moon’s silver glow. “What's wrong?” I whisper.

His eyes flutter open, hooded and lust-hazed. “You feel so good,” he groans. “I just want to freeze this moment and live in it forever.”

That stirring is back in my chest, warm and curious. I want to tell him okay, that I'll allow it. The idea of being with Peeta this way forever is awfully appealing. “Please move,” I whine instead.

His face lights up, a cocky smirk replacing the awe. “You want me to move?” he teases. “Like this?” He pulls back achingly slowly, until just the tip of him is still inside me, and I wrap my legs around his thighs, trying to prevent his escape. His smile only widens. “Like this, Katniss?” He's pushing in and pulling out, just a fraction of an inch at a time, just enough to drive me absolutely mad. “Is this how do you want me to move?”

“Hard,” I groan. “I want you hard.” I swear he laughs, pulling out completely, teasing me again with just the tip of his dick, tracing my sensitive folds.

“I don't know,” he says. “I'm pretty hard already.”

“Dammit, Peeta, I want you now,” I growl in frustration, and the amusement in his expression morphs to something more carnal.

This time he fills me in one hard thrust, and I cry out. His moan is softer, but just as passionate.

This time there's no teasing, no slow exploration, no caution. This time he sets a blistering pace, and I love it. He kisses me, swallowing my cries, grunting against my lips as I arch, gripping fistfuls of his sleeping bag and locking my legs around his back.

I'm already climbing when I hear it, the telltale high-pitched prattle of Madge heading back to camp. Peeta hears it too, but he doesn't stop, doesn't even slow. Instead, he reaches up to cover my mouth with one huge hand, his lush lips next to my ear. “Can you be quiet, Katniss?” he whispers.

I lock eyes with him, molten blue irises almost obscured by fat black pupils. And I shake my head, helplessly. I'm not usually so loud. But sex has never been this good before. And even knowing our friends are returning, I don't want to stop. I'm not sure I could.

His hand stays clamped over my mouth, muffling my moans, as he pants filth into the crook of my neck. Angelic Peeta Mellark is a dirty talker. I never would have guessed, and it's the hottest thing imaginable, his words in my ear and his hand on my mouth, and the rough way he slams into me over and over.

I bury my hands in his downy curls, tugging firmly and he bites my shoulder. It's so hot and so unexpected, my orgasm hits me like a shockwave, radiating pleasure from my core to every inch of my body.

Peeta slows, prolonging my climax, wringing every drop of pleasure from me until all of my muscles slacken. Only then does he remove his hand.

He's still panting in my ear, only now the words are soft, sweet. “You are so beautiful,” he murmurs. “So much better than my fantasies.” And when he comes, it's with a shuddering whimper of my name.

We lay together, boneless and breathless for a long time, listening to the crickets’ lament and the low murmur of our friends chatting just a few yards away before Peeta pulls back just enough to discard the condom. Then he wriggles the sleeping bag free to wrap around us both and gathers me in his arms again, kissing me softly until I fall asleep.

o-o-o

Birdsong filters through our nylon ceiling. A silver-grey dawn is fast approaching. I try to wiggle out of Peeta's arms, but his grip tightens. “Don't go,” he murmurs, mostly asleep, and my heart clenches. I know he doesn't mean it. Everything is so much clearer this morning; the way we snuck back to his tent like thieves in the night, how he kept me quiet, swallowing my moans even as he pumped into me. This is just a secret dalliance. It’s a cliché, really, the two single people in the group hooking up. Expected, I guess, but temporary. Better to slip away now, save us both the mortification of a walk of shame in front of our friends.

“The others will be up soon,” I whisper. I’ve never had a one-night stand before, but I’ve been roommates with Johanna for years, I know how they’re supposed to go.

His sleepy blue eyes search mine, the flare of pain unmistakable. Bewildering. “Katniss?”

“I, well. I thought you’d want me gone by then.”

“Why on earth would you think that?” I try to scowl at him, but it's hard to to appear indifferent when his very naked body is pressed against my equally bare skin. When I can still taste him. I shrug.

“I guess, I mean, well. You didn't want anyone to know. And I get it.”

“Katniss,” he breathes, all vestiges of sleep gone. “I didn't want the others to hear us last night because I know how private you are. How… pure.” He shakes his head. “This… I want so much more than just one night with you.” He cups my cheek in one large, rough hand. “You have to know that? I'd like to tell the planet about us. I would put it on a billboard or tattoo it across my chest, if you'd allow it.”

He's so earnest. So open. My doubts start to melt away. I want that too, to see where this could go. To see more of his smile, hear more of his laugh. “Okay,” I murmur.

“Okay?”

“Maybe not the tattoo,” I smile. “But the rest… I'll allow it.”

“Yeah?” he grins.

“Yeah. I really like you, Peeta.” His soft laugh dances across my cheek as he tilts my face to kiss him.

“I really like you too.” And snuggled together, we slide back into slumber.