Archive of Our Own

Breaking Point

...

"Oh, fuck!"

Katniss snarled as she tripped over the last step on the porch, almost landing on all fours. She caught herself before crumbling, however, silently cursing the thin layer of ice underneath the fresh snow.

She heard slow clapping and clenched her jaw, glaring up at the boy hanging out of a window on the second floor.

"Well done, Everdeen," he chuckled, visibly amused. "Although I wish you'd gone all the way down."

"Shut the fuck up, Mellark," she barked in return, feeling her cheeks tinge pink with barely concealed shame. Of course he'd seen. Whenever she found herself in an embarrassing situation, he was always lurking around the area. She would have sworn he'd jinxed her or something, if she believed in such tripe. Grasping at straws to retain her dignity, she added, fighting the urge to cuss him out, "And close that damn window. I'm not spending the afternoon freezing my arse off again."

He smiled sweetly, but stepped away from the window, slamming it shut, and she flipped the empty pane off, the childish gesture making her feel slightly better, before crossing the porch and entering the house, slamming the front door behind her and stalking up the stairs to Peeta Mellark's bedroom. She didn't knock before barging in, shrugging her backpack off.

"You know," his voice drawled lazily, "one of these days, you're going to walk in on me masturbating, and you'll only have yourself to blame."

She glared at the back of his head, imagining it explode with no small amount of satisfaction. The insufferable dickwad was sitting at his desk, eyes glued to his computer, feet up and keyboard in his lap as he messaged someone. One of the many stupid girls who seemed to melt all over him, probably, or one of the jackass guys on the wrestling team with him.

She'd hated Peeta Mellark all her life. And that was quite literal, given that they were neighbours. At this point, she wasn't quite certain how it had all started, but it was almost like tradition now. If her memories weren't wrong, it went back to primary school, when she'd had a massive crush on him, only to discover he was dating Delly bloody Cartwright- they even kissed on the cheek once, the whole ten miles. Ever since, she'd scorned him, and he gave back as good as he got. She insulted him, he laughed, he insulted her back, she scowled. They'd gone through primary school with him tugging on her braids and her hiding his pencil case in creative places, then through secondary school with him mocking her in front of his stupid friends and her flipping him off when she inevitably bested him in class. Then high school- and she would gladly have written him off before going to college next year, but their thrice-cursed English professor had decided to partner them up on a project and now she had to see his ugly mug out of school as well. She bet good old Mr Abernathy spent his time, when he wasn't drinking, wringing his hands and cackling over his ordinary cruelty like a mad scientist.

Of course, it didn't help matters that Peeta was so likeable. Not to her, of course, but everyone adored him- he was the teacher's pet, and no-one hated him for it. He was a great athlete. He was kind and funny and even her friends drooled over him- and it positively enraged her. So what if he was, objectively speaking, gorgeous, with those beautiful blue eyes and ash blonde locks? To her, he was ugly. He had an ugly soul. Well, maybe not, actually, but she preferred to tell herself that rather than admit that, when he wasn't busy scowling at her, she still carried her childhood crush for him. Which she absolutely didn't, by the way.

"Yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you," she grunted. "Giving poor, innocent girls trauma with the image of your disease-riddled dick."

He laughed. Flat-out laughed, the jerk- didn't even get offended. That was Peeta Mellark's way. And that was what enraged her the most about him- that he seemed to genuinely have fun at her expense. She'd rather he get pissed.

"Everdeen, if you want to see my dick that bad, just ask," he drawled again, still not turning around, tapping away at his keyboard furiously. She wanted to make him choke on it. Huffing, she stomped over to her backpack, opening it angrily and pulling their project file from its depths.

"It's freezing in here," she muttered crossly.

"Deal with it," he deadpanned, and she whipped around.

"Okay, player, enough with your groupies," she snapped. "Would you put that damn keyboard down and come here? I'd rather get some work done. The sooner we do, the sooner I'm out of here."

"Why would I? You know I could give Abernathy a single sheet of paper and still get an A," he responded, but still closed down the computer.

He was right, damnit. Katniss may be the best student in all their classes- but he was hot on her heels at every turn, and as much as she worked, he never seemed to put an effort into school.

Arsehole.

"Of course you would," she snarked, "but do you really want to suck his dick again?"

He laughed at that, throwing his head back and swirling his chair around to face her. She ignored the way his face lit up when his body shook with mirth.

"Okay, Everdeen," he replied, visibly amused. "What's with the dicks today? Horny? I could help you with that. It'd be more interesting than the project anyway."

This time, she couldn't resist sending her pencil case straight at his stupid face with all the violence she could muster. She was disappointed to see him catch it easily, before tossing it on the bed.

"Shut it, Mellark," she warned, and his eyes twinkled, but he obeyed. "Alright, so where are we starting? I was thinking about choosing some Shakespeare or something."

"Shakespeare?" he leaned forward, tutting softly, and she closed her eyes and counted to five.

"Alright, you toadface- what's wrong with Shakespeare?" she finally grit out, turning to stare at him.

"So easy, as always, Everdeen," he answered merrily.

She crossed her arms on her chest and raised an eyebrow. She was- maybe- a little- intrigued about that answer, but like hell was she going to show it. So instead, she spat,

"Are you calling me easy, Mellark?"

He raised his hands in mock surrender.

"Course not," he chuckled. "That would be like calling the Pope a Satanist."

She narrowed her eyes at him.

"Are you calling me stuck-up?"

"Let's face it," he shrugged. "If your belt was any tighter, you'd probably die of blood flow obstruction."

"I am not uptight," she stated, voice cold.

"Right," he replied, lips quirking. "Katniss Everdeen is not uptight. I'll just add that to the list of miracles to come." Before she could answer, his face settled into a serious expression. "Shakespeare is too easy. It's expected. You can go into that classroom in a week, when the project's due, and you'll find that half of the works are Shakespeare-centred. And Abernathy hates when shit gets repetitive."

"Well, yeah," she pointed out. "Of course there'll be a lot of works about Shakespeare. He's the go-to master of the written word or whatever."

"My point exactly," he answered, leaning back. She caught herself glancing at the way his fingertips skipped over the armrest, in a gentle, soothing motion. She was definitely not thinking about how it would feel against her skin, no- she was merely imagining a hundred different ways to break his fingers.

"So?" she asked warily- she didn't want to agree with the fuckwad in any way.

"So," he repeated slowly, "we choose another author."

"Nah. Shakespeare's good," she refused, shaking her head. "Do you have another chair?"

"Wh- sit on the bed, Everdeen," he replied, shaking his head as though she was being childish.

"Like hell. I don't know what you've done on that bed," she hissed.

Peeta's eyes widened, and then a smirk began playing around his lips.

"Just sit on the bed, Everdeen," he answered, not denying her accusations in the slightest.

"Give me your chair," she pouted angrily.

"But you're not uptight at all," he mocked her, and she bristled.

"I am not-"

"Are you thinking about me having sex on that bed, Katniss?"

She didn't know what threw her the most- his sentence or the fact that he'd used her given name for the first time since...since ever, probably. And that stupid smirk was still there on his fucking stupid face. And none of it was hot. Absolutely not.

His accusation was ridiculous, of course. She wasn't thinking about Peeta Mellark having sex. Especially on that bed. Well, at least she wasn't until ten seconds ago, when he'd put the damn thought in her head. She spluttered an answer,

"Wha- no! How could you- absolutely gross- ugh, I can't- fuck you, Mellark!"

"Took a long time to drum up a "fuck you, Mellark"," he pointed out, grinning now, and she felt mortified all of a sudden. Which was ridiculous. She didn't get mortified in his presence, she got angry.

But then again, he'd never made such lewd suggestions before. Had he?

She almost groaned. Of course he had. This was Peeta fucking Mellark, pervert extraordinaire- he was always winking at her, smirking at her between two insults. Always making half-hidden, fake suggestions around her. She understood why now- all to make the uptight Katniss Everdeen feel uncomfortable.

Well, two could play that game.

"Yeah," she answered, turning to the bed again and checking it critically. "Guess you were right, Mellark- I was totally imagining you fucking someone on that bed."

She turned to him, eyeing his reaction- she was going to have the last laugh here. Her incoming chant of victory died in her throat, however, when she saw him swallow thickly, casting her a gaze that she could only describe as hungry between heavy eyelids. When he spoke, his voice was low, almost a warning, and she couldn't help her sharp intake of breath-

"And...?"

She blinked.

"And I can imagine the cries of pain and terror that must have echoed around this room," she snapped, desperately pushing back against the foreign tension in the air.

He gazed at her a while longer and she felt her fingers press to her neck in discomfort. She had to stop thinking about the kind of cries that may or may not have echoed around the room (and she suspected that none of them were cries of terror, unfortunately. Or rather, fortunately). Then, his lips curled into a thin smile.

"Well played, Everdeen."

She blinked again, confused. Well played? Was something at stake here?

Yes, her instincts told her. You've seen that kind of look before- you're no virgin. That look meant business, damnit.

Were she and Mellark just...flirting? And had she unwittingly played that game?

Yes, she had. Whether she realized it or not.

Something about that thought made her terribly uneasy, but she couldn't fight the blush spreading over her cheeks and down her neck. She should say something, before he realized what she was thinking.

Because now she was thinking about him having sex.

With her.

Damnit.

Shaking her head, Katniss sat daintily on the edge of the bed, pursing her lips. She heard Peeta's chuckle, but ignored it.

"So. Shakespeare," she declared loudly. "Hamlet, maybe?"

"Why not try a foreign author?"

"Huh?" she frowned at him, but Peeta ignored her, seemingly lost in thought.

"Maybe Zola," he stated, before glancing at her. "Zola is a French author who-"

"I know full well who Emile Zola is, Mellark," she snapped, crossing her legs at the ankles.

"Of course you do," he said, rolling his eyes, but she noticed that his remark lacked its usual heat. She blushed slightly, remembering her thoughts of a few minutes ago.

"This is an English project," she added loudly, as if to quell her inner thoughts, "not a French one, in case you hadn't noticed."

"I'm not suggesting we use a French book," he drawled. "One translated to English would be just fine. And Abernathy will probably jizz in his pants."

Surprisingly, she felt a chuckle bubble through her chest at that, that she immediately disguised by a cough. Huh. Mellark could be funny, she guessed, when his mockery wasn't aimed at her. Embarrassed, she muttered,

"Well, I guess he does get a hard-on for France."

Peeta didn't seek to hide his chuckle.

"I guess that does hit close to home, given that he's banging Trinket."

Katniss' head snapped up at that. She couldn't figure her drunken English professor with Effie Trinket, the chirpy French secretary.

"What? No he's not."

"Is too," Peeta grinned, reclining like a king. "Cato caught them in a closet a couple of weeks ago, going at it like bunnies that just hit puberty. Trinket almost died on the spot, apparently, but Abernathy flung his flask of rhum at Cato's head and swore to tear it off if he didn't close the door immediately to let his professor get laid in peace."

Katniss scoffed at that.

"Because you believe everything Cato says?"

She couldn't stand Cato. He was one of Peeta's stupid jock friends and the local Casanova, or so he liked to say. Katniss wasn't certain which of Peeta's friends was truly the Casanova- or rather, man-whore...they all seemed to get around a lot. Especially Peeta, with that fucking crooked grin of his.

"Nah, course not," Peeta laughed, "but when I saw Trinket the next day, almost tripping in her haste to pass us in the corridor, I couldn't help but believe, man."

"Eww," she shuddered violently. "Could we not talk about Abernathy's sex life?"

That brought her to the present. What was she doing? Was she really laughing with Peeta bloody Mellark? Biting her tongue, she sighed.

"Alright, so, Zola..."

She didn't like the way he seemed to light up at that.

"I was thinking about Nana. You ever read that one? It's about a prostitute who..."

"For fuck's sake, Mellark," she exploded, "why choose the one book about a prostitute?"

"Hey!" he pointed at his chest. "Teenage guy. I'm permanently on the lookout, remember?"

She shimmied closer to the edge of the bed, a look of pure disgust on her face, glancing suspiciously at the sheets, and he laughed.

"God, Everdeen...really? I thought we were past this point."

"We're never past this point! I don't like you. You don't like me. Abernathy got us stuck together on a fucking project...that's it! I've got better shit to do than this, Mellark, so stop hinting at your secondary job as a man-whore and get to work!"

She wanted to toss something in his face. Something hard and heavy, preferably.

"Ah, Katniss," he sighed, eyes twinkling, and she twitched. There was the use of her name again. "If you continue, yourself, to hint at my sexual activities, I'll begin to believe that you actually want me there on that bed with you."

"Gross," she choked out, eyes now skimming the room, seeking out something to throw in his face. "And don't call me Katniss."

"Why not? It's your name, isn't it?"

"Call me Everdeen like you've always done," she snapped, disappointed at finding nothing within her reach that would break his nose.

"Kaaaat-niss," he sang instead. "Katniss, Katniss, Katniss..."

"For fuck's sake," she bellowed, "how old are you? You sound stupid. Peee-ta, Peeta, Peeta...see how stupid that sounds?"

"Actually," he declared matter-of-factedly, "I'd prefer if you repeated that. But, in a more breathless way. Slightly more high-pitched, too."

She blinked at him. He winked at her.

"Fuck," she muttered, jumping off the bed. "Fuck you, Mellark."

"What're you doing?" he asked as she began stuffing her belongings back into her backpack.

"Leaving," she shook her head, "you're insufferable. I'll do the work on my own. Better off that way anyhow- and I'm using Shakespeare," she added under her breath.

"No, you're not," he chuckled. "Admit it, Everdeen- our fights give you a female hard-on. Where else would you spend all that pent-up energy of yours?"

She stopped, frowning. He was right. Maybe not about the wording, but he was right- whenever she felt frustrated, angry, or just down, she seeked him out. And win or lose the heated exchange that inevitably followed, she always felt better after. More at peace.

"Same for you," she pointed out flatly.

"Hell yeah, Everdeen- although I'm not interested in fighting with you, really."

That took her by surprise. She straightened her shoulders, staring at him.

"Yes, you are," she replied curtly.

"Am not," he corrected, gazing at her. "Actually, I was talking to Finnick about you the other day, and-"

"Wait, what? You were talking to your fucking playboy friend about me?"

Finnick Odair was probably the nicest of all of Peeta's friends and, although he spent his time strutting around like a cockerel in the midst of hens, he was loyal to his girlfriend, Annie. That being said, Katniss disliked him on principle- just because he was part of Peeta's little gang.

"Like you never talk to your friends about me," he pointed out, and she blushed, because he was right. In fact, she spent an embarrassing amount of time ranting and raving about him- to the point where Johanna Mason, her closest female friend, had asked her once if she was certain she didn't have a secret crush on Mellark. The tongue-thrashing that had followed ensured Johanna didn't make that mistake again.

"Right. So," Peeta continued after a beat, "he thinks that you have a crush on me."

Katniss raised her eyebrows and began inspecting the corners of the room thoroughly. She caught Peeta's eye and answered his silent question,

"Nothing. Just checking for the hidden camera."

"Oh-so-funny, Everdeen," he drawled. "And I'm beginning to wonder if he's onto something there."

That made her stop in her tracks as she turned to him, bewildered.

"I'm sorry, what? I don't speak foreign languages."

"You've been trudging around me since forever," he ticked off his fingers as he went. "You trade insults with me whenever you can. You've been thinking about sex half the time since you arrived. I think Finnick's right, doll- you have a weird hate-crush on me."

She thought her jaw was going to fall to the floor. Actually, her mouth was open so wide she physically checked she wasn't drooling in disbelief.

"I'm- don't call me doll," she growled.

"Huh. I just claimed you have a crush on me, Everdeen, and all you have to answer is, don't call me doll?"

He winked at her and she frowned, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"I don't have a crush on you, Mellark. I'd sooner marry Cato than have a crush on you."

"Yeah, well you're not marrying Cato, so how about we talk about the fact that you've been crushing on me since we were kids, and since you're so broody and shit, you don't know how to deal with it other than by insulting me and threatening my manhood on a way too regular basis?"

This conversation was not happening.

Except it totally was.

But once again, two could play that game.

"How about you, Peeta?" she murmured, and she noticed with no small amount of satisfaction that his eyes widened at the use of his own given name. "You give as good as you get. You've been manipulating me into thinking about sex ever since I got here. You've been chatting with your friends about who I may or may not like- so?"

He raised his eyebrows at her, amused, casting her a lazy glance- and that come-hither look was nothing short of hot. She couldn't even think of something distasteful to cover up the truth there.

"Ah, but see, that's the thing, love," he replied after a moment. "I don't deny it."

Her heart missed a beat. Did Peeta Mellark just...admit to having a crush on her? And what was with the endearment?

"Are you- umm, I mean- did you just-" she waved her hands around somewhat stupidly.

"Did I just say that I have a crush on you?" he asked, and she nodded, eyes wide. "Yeah, I did. So? I'm not going to take it back, and I'm not sorry if it offends your sensibilities."

She breathed out slowly.

"I don't have a crush on you," she stated. "I think you're obnoxious and rude, and I despise the way you strut around as though you own the fucking town. For that matter, I hate how every single girl in this shithole of a place falls all over you like you're Jesus reincarnate."

"Jealous?"

"Not one minute."

"Sounds like it."

She rubbed her jaw tiredly.

"Where does this- this- crush come from, anyway?"

"Eh. I was going to say from my dick-radar, but I doubt you'd find that appropriate."

To her surprise, she burst out laughing.

"Fuck me," she muttered.

"Gladly," he replied sweetly, and she cast him a wary glance.

"No, I meant- bite me."

"If that's what you're into, sure..."

"Can you be serious for just one second, Mellark?" she demanded, slightly exasperated, and he chuckled before settling back into his seat.

"Well, what do you say, Everdeen? Do we give this a go?"

"Do we give what a go?"

"You. Me. Hot sex. Maybe a date or two. Don't worry, I'll still let you scream at me when you're mad. As long as we can make up for it with some hot shower sex afterwards."

"Shower sex?" she cast him a doubtful glance. She'd never tried shower sex. It looked nice in the soft porn movies she'd seen, though. And there she was- imagining his wet, soapy, naked body flush against hers as he panted in her ear. "Sounds specific." Not that she was considering it or anything. He shrugged, grinning brilliantly, and she wanted to slap herself. Or him. Better him, actually.

"Looks like you need some convincing," he stated, cocking his head to the side. He looked like a puppy. A cute, annoying, fucking dumb puppy.

"Some? Mellark, I'd need you to end world hunger and develop a vaccine against AIDS before agreeing to be your girlfriend," she argued.

"Okay, I'll take some humanitarian option in Uni and we'll be having sex with condoms. Best I can offer for now. Anything else?"

She didn't answer that, instead rolling her eyes obnoxiously, which also meant that she missed his next move because he rose from his chair like a panther on the hunt, silent and swift, and then he was in front of her, grinning down at her with that cheeky, annoying face of his.

"Sounds to me like you're stalling, Everdeen," he declared, and although laughter was etched all over his face, there was a slight lilt to his voice which made her chest constrict and something warm pool between her legs.

Well, fuck. She could ignore the arousal usually- because she'd totally never made herself cum in the safety of her room, thinking about that dirty smirk of his, because that would be gross- even when thinking about all the sex he'd had on that bed of his, the fucker, but this...this was a side of Peeta Mellark she'd never experienced before.

He'd never turned his game on for her.

It would almost make her understand all the stupid, pouting girls tripping over their panties to get to him.

Almost.

"Stalling?" she muttered, frowning. "I'm not stalling. I'm saying no." It sounded weak, though, even to her ears.

"Try that again," he chuckled.

She opened her mouth to repeat what she just said, but then, Peeta's hand snaked around her waist and pulled her flush against him, and the words died on her lips as she gazed up at him. His blue eyes had darkened, and he wasn't laughing anymore, although the smirk remained. She stood still, absolutely frozen, when his other hand lifted to cup her cheek gently, thumb running over her skin, and she shivered in delight.

No, in disgust. Not delight. He was wrong about this crush and he was just messing with her head and...

"I'm going to kiss you now, Katniss," he whispered huskily. "If you really don't want this, you'd better get out of here right now."

She simply stared, heart beating faster by the second, as he bent towards her. To be fair, he gave her more than enough time to leave if she wanted to- but if her absolutely ruined panties were anything to go by, she didn't.

His mouth hovered over her lips and she could almost taste the question there- and she decided to give him an answer she absolutely could not put into words.

So she crossed the distance herself and molded her lips against his.

She felt liquid fire run through her veins as he immediately raised a hand to fist her hair, pulling her head backwards slightly to get better access, and she gladly let him take the lead. When his tongue traced her lips, however, she parted them at once, reaching out with her own tongue to meet his. Fuck, but he tasted good- like strawberries and cream. Well, not actually like that, but just as good. Better, even. She inhaled his scent as they kissed- it was distinctively masculine and it made her blood run thicker.

Emboldened, she felt herself kissing him just as hard as he did her, tongues dancing together until it almost hurt. She felt his hand running across the small of her back, before dipping below her arse and pulling her crotch against his, and her breath hitched as she felt his erection. He groaned into her mouth at the feeling, and she felt her hands moving from her side to the hem of his shirt, skimming across the skin of his stomach as she fisted it. He shuddered under her touch, and she suddenly felt all-powerful, as though nothing here could go wrong.

He was kneading her arse and she pushed his chest slightly, bringing an end to the kiss. He gazed down at her and she felt her knees buckle at the lust in his eyes- panting slightly, she tugged on his shirt and he smirked, bringing the offending material over his head and tossing it carelessly behind him. She took a moment to admire his bare chest, completely hairless save for a splatter of light blonde in the middle, and the way his skin rippled around his toned abs as he moved. Wrestling club indeed.

"Like what you see, Everdeen?" he drawled, voice thick, and she glowered at him.

"I always knew that wrestling club was just an excuse for a bunch of guys to whip out their dicks and compare muscle size before fucking each other in the shower," she sniffed.

"God, Everdeen," he chuckled, shaking his head at her insult, "I wouldn't have you any other way."

Then his mouth was on hers again and she returned the kiss immediately, her hands palming his chest as she discovered his body. She felt him pull her own shirt up and she broke the kiss long enough to fling it off before taking his face in her hands and kissing him furiously again, not allowing him the leisure to look at her- she felt deceptively plain, compared to him.

As always, he gave as good as he got.

His fingers reached out to her bra, and fumbled with the clasp for a while until she slapped his fingers away to do it herself.

"Some great master of seduction you are," she ground out, and he laughed quietly.

"Sorry, doll," he drawled. "You make me nervous."

"Don't tell me I have to take your virginity, Mellark," she answered between kisses and nips.

"Well a lot is at stake here with the impression I make," he retorted.

"Like what?"

"Like getting you to do the English project by yourself, and- ow!"

"You're lucky that was your foot. Next time, it'll be right in the family jewels."

"I was going to add, like getting you to date me."

She rolled her eyes but didn't comment on that, and they kissed again before she tossed the bra aside. He grabbed her waist then, stilling her, and took a half-step back, gazing at her naked torso. She shivered- fuck, but it was freezing in here- and tried to ignore the way her nipples pebbled. He didn't miss an ounce of it, though, as he drank her hungrily in.

"Fuck, you're beautiful," he breathed after a short while.

"Good to know," she replied, embarrassed. She didn't feel beautiful at all. Especially not in front of something made by the gods themselves, namely, Peeta Mellark's chest. "Now, are you going to continue or are you going to put me in an art gallery on display?"

He traced a thumb down between her breasts, making her shudder in delight, and something tightened within her as she noticed how his gaze hardened slightly.

"Like hell I'm going to let anyone else look at you," he growled, and then he was attacking her lips again, fingers reaching up to pinch a nipple. She gasped and arched into him, and he drank her expression of desire before turning her around and laying her upon the bed, following the movement until he was on all fours above her. She wrinkled her nose when the kiss ended.

"Eww. Gross. Am I really going to have sex with you in your fucking bed, Mellark?"

He laughed at that, pulling back to undo his belt with slow, deliberate motions.

"I'll tell you a secret, Everdeen- I've never fucked anyone in that bed."

She raised an eyebrow at that.

"No?"

"No," he shook his head and bent down, slipping her shoes off quickly, then his, and pulling his pants down, taking the underwear with them. "I don't invite girls into my family home. Guess you're special." The witty retort she'd been about to give died on her lips as the sight of his cock springing to attention caught her eye. It was long and thick, more so than what she was used to, and ridged with veins, the head an angry shade of purplish pink. She swallowed at the sight, suddenly a bit shy, but shook her head and almost scowled.

She'd be damned if she let any part of Peeta Mellark impress her.

So she leaned up and forward, knuckles gently hovering over it, and when she touched it, his sack contracted heavily. She took a glance at his face and noticed him watching her closely.

There was no denying the heavy lust in his eyes as she palmed him, and then he threw his head back with a sharp intake of breath, hips rolling softly against her hand as it lingered upon him, slowly beginning a familiar movement. She observed him silently, revelling in his reaction and the power she discovered she held over him. She'd lost her virginity during a party two years ago, to some sucker named Marvel from the next school over. Then she'd had a brief relationship with her classmate Gale. But neither of them had actually made her feel like she held the world within her grasp when they allowed her to touch them. This was entirely different, and she shifted uncomfortably as an unrequited wave of affection for Peeta swept over her.

"Katniss," he grit out through clenched teeth, "stop. I'm going to..."

She obeyed reluctantly and he swayed somewhat, eyes closed, as though getting his reaction under check, then all of a sudden, she was lying on her back again, Peeta's face hovering over hers, and the kiss was so gentle, so tender that it left her sighing in surprise.

That felt nice, too, she decided.

Then he was tugging on her trousers and she lifted her legs to help him, taking her underwear off herself, and she was lying naked in front of him. To her surprise, he stopped then, taking her in, a bewildered look on his face. She wanted to cover herself, but he growled softly,

"Fuck, Katniss, you're gorgeous."

She rolled her eyes.

"You dated Glimmer," she pointed out, and she was sure she didn't imagine the hitch in her voice when a spike of jealousy ran through her. Which was ridiculous. They'd dated for a few months last year, and when Peeta had broken up with her, he hadn't looked back once.

"Trust me, Everdeen," he shook his head. "I don't want Glimmer after seeing this."

She should give him shit for that comment, she knew it- Glimmer was something straight out of a Victoria's Secret ad- but she couldn't deny the selfish pleasure that ran through her when he said that. She didn't have time to settle on an adequate answer, either, because all of a sudden, his fingers were right there, clipping her clit, and she arched off the bed with a moan of pleasure.

He was relentless after that, making her produce sounds that would put a porn actress to shame as his fingers ran through her folds, sometimes gentle, sometimes rough, worshipping her clit and twisting inside her. She gasped, bucking and whining as he brought her ever closer to her peak.

It hit her like a tsunami, and she cried his name, over and over again, not caring for one second about the shit he was going to give her about her reaction to him. She clenched almost painfully around his fingers, wondering how exactly her eternal rival was able to make her feel that way.

Okay, so maybe, lying there in bliss, maybe she was able to admit that she had a tiny bit of a crush on him.

A foreign noise made her raise her eyes lazily to him, and she realized he was unwrapping a condom. She almost giggled at that- would have, if Katniss Everdeen giggled, which she never did. Peeta caught on her mirth, however, and raised an eyebrow at her.

"Sorry," she worried her lip. "I feel boneless."

"That good, huh?" he asked, a proud smirk playing around his lips.

Mind-blowing. Earth-shattering, really, but she didn't want to give the insufferable git more ammunition against her, so she answered,

"I don't know, Mellark. Got some work to do to better yourself, I think."

He grinned at that and beat her at her own game with a simple,

"Well, I suppose that means a lot of practice in the future, Everdeen."

He was on top of her then, skin grazing against hers, and his fingers dipped into her folds, seeking out her clit again. She gasped as she felt a familiar desire pool in her stomach again. No way was she turned on so fast after such an orgasm.

Well apparently, she was.

Peeta grabbed her thighs, settling between them, and took his cock in hand to guide his way through her folds, rubbing the head of his shaft through them, spreading her slickness. She moaned whenever he caught her clit and found herself bucking her hips towards him. He chuckled darkly and finally inched his way inside.

He actually caught her off guard. She knew he was big, but this was an entirely new sensation and, turned on as she was, she was surprised when she actually had to strain slightly to accomodate his girth. But then, he was there, all the way in, eyes closed as he panted above her, and she stroke his chest softly, enraptured at the sight.

God, he was gorgeous.

He pulled out and sank back in, glancing down at where their bodies met, and Katniss couldn't feel a single ounce of shame as she watched him watch them. He seemed fascinated, and there was something almost sweet about the way he acted, as though he couldn't take his eyes off the sight.

"Fuck, Katniss," he whimpered, and her nipples ached at the sound. "Do you know how long I've wanted this?"

Despite the situation, and the rising need she felt for him to stop fooling around and start fucking her in earnest, her curiosity was piqued.

"How long?" she asked, fingertips running across his broad shoulders, making him shiver.

"I don't know," he replied honestly, looking up to her face before pressing a quick kiss to her lips. "Since that first day in primary school, probably. When I saw you in assembly, singing the Valley Song with that amazing voice of yours in your little red dress."

"Yeah," she deadpanned. "Because every four-year-old wants to do his classmate doggy-style between nap time and story time."

He choked out a bout of laughter at that, and she couldn't help but smile- his laughter was contagious, and since she wasn't resisting his appeal at the moment, she could enjoy it.

"You know what I mean," he answered, and she gasped as he slammed his hips into her.

"You've...ah...you've had a crush on me since primary school?" she managed to grit out as his hips picked up speed.

"Remind me to court you properly later," he gasped and she chuckled, and then there was no more talk as he began fucking her in earnest.

She didn't think she had it in her to come again, yet as his pelvic bone clipped her clit at every frenzied thrust, she felt it build within her. Her gentle ministrations to his upper body stopped as her hips snapped back and forth to meet his, hungering for her release, and her nails clawed at him. Then she rolled her legs around his waist, crossing her ankles above him, gasping as the slightly different angle ensured that he hit that sweet spot every time. He was grunting, body slick with sweat, and she felt the orgasm arrive before it hit her.

When it did, she clenched her inner walls tight, repeating his name over and over like a mantra. Something snapped in Peeta then, and with a strangled,

"Fuck, fuck, fuck..."

He came too, stilling above her, his hips giving the occasional, strong thrust. There was silence, their panting the only noise in the room, and then Peeta rolled off her and onto his back. Katniss stared at the white ceiling, trying to regain her senses.

After a while, she heard him chuckle, and turned her head lazily towards him.

"Wow," he breathed. "That was..."

"Yeah," she muttered, agreeing with the unspoken statement. "Yeah."

She suddenly felt self-conscious and, despite the weariness of her body and her sudden sleepiness, forced herself into a sitting position, biting her lip. She wasn't sure what happened now.

She'd just had mind-blowing sex with Peeta Mellark, and she didn't know whether or not to regret it. She made to get off the bed, but Peeta's hand was suddenly on her wrist, stilling her. She didn't dare look at him.

"Katniss..." he said, and there was no mistaking the low warning there.

She shrugged his hand off and rose, gladly spotting her underwear straight away. She shimmied her knickers back on again, making a face at the cold wetness that informed her of how much she'd been aroused. She heard Peeta sigh as he flopped back on the bed, an arm covering his eyes.

"I knew it," he said quietly. "You're going to deny what just happened, aren't you?"

She frowned at the bitterness in his voice, and turned towards him, trying to ignore his current state of undress.

"Well...yeah."

That was sort of the plan. Because honestly, what else could she do?

He laughed, but it was hard and self-deprecating and she didn't like the sound in his mouth at all.

"I knew I shouldn't have," he groaned. "Well, I suppose our relationship can't be worse than what it already was."

She didn't understand.

"What's gotten into you?" she asked, unsure, as she clasped her bra.

"What's gotten into me?" he sat up, and she was taken aback by the wary expression on his face. "Fuck, Katniss, we just...I just laid my heart bare for you. I kind of already knew you would stomp all over it, but I guess I was caught up in the moment."

She blinked at him, feeling suddenly very tired, and sat down at the edge of the bed.

"I don't...I'm sorry," she muttered. "I didn't think..."

"Didn't think that I meant it, did you?" he laughed bitterly. "Thought I was just trying to get into your panties?"

She bit her lip. Something along those lines, sure.

He moved forward, grasping her chin gently, and her eyes met his.

"I know you don't like me, Everdeen," he said, "but please trust that I've never lied to you."

She shivered, suddenly cold again. God, it really was freezing in this room.

"I just..." she sighed. "I don't know, Peeta. We've spent the past, what, almost fifteen years at each other's throats, and all of a sudden, quite literally out of nowhere, we have some awesome sex and you admit to having a crush on me...it's just...a lot, I suppose."

He sighed then, thumb gently rubbing her chin, ghosting over her lips, and she leaned into his touch.

"Tell me you don't want this as much as I do," he said softly. "Tell me you don't want to fuck me again. Tell me you don't want anything from me, and I'll leave you be, Katniss, I swear. We can go back to screaming at each other if you want."

Her breathing hitched, and she shook her head slightly. No. She wasn't sure where this could lead them, but there was no going back after what they just did. And since there was no going back, where else could they go but forward?

"I had a massive crush on you back in primary school," she admitted suddenly. "Then you began dating Delly Cartwright and I kind of hated you for it. I'm not good with this kind of shit."

His eyes widened, and he chuckled then, the sound lighter. She found she actually enjoyed his laughter when she wasn't on the receiving end.

"Really?" he grinned. "Delly, oh, man. Haven't thought about her in years. So all this bullshit hate thing stems from me swapping chocolate treats with Delly when we were four?"

"Swapping chocolate treats?" She made a face. "Is that what they're calling toddler romance these days? Broke my heart, you know."

They burst out into laughter at that, and Peeta gathered her in his arms. She stilled for a brief second, not really used to physical contact of the sort, but then relaxed into him. This was nice, actually. She could get used to this. She felt him fiddling with her braid as he said,

"The only reason I allowed you to insult me all these years was because those were the only moments you'd give me the time of the day."

"Don't go all pussy on me, Mellark," she snorted. "You got hard from those fights, admit it."

"Oh yeah. That, too."

She stifled her laughter as she pulled away from him.

"Well, we still have that project to do," she sighed.

"Yeah, not today," Peeta yawned as he stretched. "Let's do it tomorrow. Or another day. Or just tell Abernathy we were busy fucking in that closet of his."

She rolled her eyes.

"Still not doing a project about a French prostitute, though, just so you know."

"But Everdeen-" he whined.

"Not going to hear it," she warned, picking up her discarded clothing as they both dressed. She then pointed a suspicious finger at him. "The only reason you want to do it later is because you want to lure me back into your bed, you prick."

He shrugged.

"Cut a guy some slack. If I'm not going to have my prostitute, I'll have you instead."

"You did not just compare me to Nana."

"Course not, Everdeen," he winked at her. "Nana's actually likeable."

She flipped him off, ignoring his laughter, and picked up her belongings.

"Wait," he asked softly, padding barefoot towards her. She turned to face him. "I, um. I did say I'd court you properly, didn't I?"

He seemed shy about it, cheeks slightly pink, and she nodded.

"Want to go somewhere? Grab some food, watch a movie or something."

She couldn't fight the giddiness that crept up in her stomach.

"Sure, but you're paying," she drawled. "I am not paying to sit through your company. You're a jerk."

"And you're a bitch," he chuckled, winking at her outraged expression as he grabbed his shoes and his car keys, "but here we are."

Yes, she though contentedly as she followed him out of the room. Here they were.