The Breakfast Conundrum: Part 3
Part 1
Part 2
This ficlet is getting out of hand. Someone tell me to shut up already.
RATED M: For language and sexual content (sort of… look it’s not my fault Peeta has a dirty mind okay? What else do you expect of him with Katniss sitting right next to him hmmmm?????)
***
Halfway through the white wine spritzers Annie ordered for them all, Peeta is convinced this is the worst first date he’s ever had. Katniss keeps shifting on the booth beside him, and their elbows keep rubbing. Literally. He’s been inching his way to the edge of the bench, but it doesn’t seem to have helped. No matter how much space he gives her, they keep touching. And now he’s got nowhere to go except falling off the bench.
Each little touch of her arm on his is fucking agony. Because it’s such an innocent touch, just two clothed elbows rubbing in a crowded space, but every time it happens, his mind stutters and flashes back to that night in his bed. To the sight of her painted in moonlight as he kissed and tongued every inch of her body, desperate to discover what made her whimper, what made her squirm beneath him, what made her spear her fingers in his hair and pull on the strands while urging him to “Hurry, Peeta.”
“Hurry where?” he’d asked her and flashed her what he hoped was a teasing smile before kissing somewhere completely innocent, like the inner crook of her elbow and marveling when she shivered and called him a tease.
Her elbow bumps his again as she shifts in her seat. Half her arm seems to press up against his, yanking him (half aroused) out of his memories, back into this awkward, awful date.
He’s so confused, his body a tangle of desire, interest in the person beside him, and mortification because she can’t make it more clear that she wants to escape this booth. He needs another drink, he decides and gulps down the rest of the wine, catching the server’s eyes to silently request a second one.
Unfortunately Annie and Finnick also sprung for the place’s apparently famous bruschetta to pair with their drinks, otherwise the alcohol would quickly be going to his head, which he kind of wishes it was. Still, the bruschetta is pretty good. They’ve demolished one plate and a half already. And still the rain hasn’t let up.
At the start of the so-called double date, the conversation clunked its way through how everyone knew each other, and although Peeta mentioned that he and Katniss had recently reconnected, he didn’t give details on how.
“Just bumped into each other one day and chatted for a bit,” he’d said and left it at that.
He could tell Annie didn’t quite believe him. Her green eyes laser focused and her teeth worrying the corner of her mouth. But Peeta had kept his eyes trained on Finnick as long as he could and then turned to Katniss for backup.
“That cover it?” he asked her, and she nodded.
“Pretty much. Nothing too interesting.” He mentally rolled his eyes at what a bad liar she was. Her tone was too revealing. He could feel Annie’s eyes boring into him, and he knew that he’d receive a barrage of questions from her later.
After that, talk moved in starts and fits a bit longer, but eventually relaxed. Mainly because, as Annie had pointed out when she first arranged this whole thing, there were established friendships to smooth the way for talk and make it easier to open up. To be more comfortable around each other.
Eventually, Peeta saw her again. The warm, open Katniss he’d talked to for hours and couldn’t stop talking to as they’d both left the store where they’d bumped into each other and walked together aimlessly because the store had closed but neither of them seemed in a rush to get home. The same Katniss who had brushed her lips against his cheek and then gripped his coat lapel as she inhaled and pressed her lips to his. The one who caught him so off guard that after a few minutes of heated kissing in the glow of a fir tree still illuminated for the holidays, he shyly asked her back to his place, for a slice of pear and coffee cake he’d made, but hadn’t yet eaten.
They’d never eaten the cake. They’d barely made it past his threshold before their clothes started flying every which direction.
“Are you sure? Katniss?” he had asked her, breathless and dizzy from all the kissing and from the raging desire in his blood.
All she’d said was, “Yes,” and then they tumbled into his bed.
And he felt like such shit after she left him naked and alone in bed, he couldn’t even stomach the thought of eating that cake by himself. He wound up giving the cake to a neighbor that afternoon, sheepishly admitting (lying) that he’d gotten carried away with the home baking and made too much for himself.
And now that the conversation is flowing, he should be having a good time, because he always enjoys hanging out with Finnick and Annie, and he definitely likes Katniss. But it’s still the worst first date he’s ever had, because now he knows that rejection is inevitable. She was like this that night too and still walked out the next morning. Whatever he thought they had that night, had that morning after, Katniss has already rejected it. Rejected him. She’ll just be walking away from this too.
Not to mention the fact that his thoughts have grown progressively dirtier and more erotic each time Katniss has innocently brushed up against him. Just like his body has nowhere to go but off the bench, his mind seems to think there’s nowhere to go but further into his memories of that night. Deeper into the gutter.
Somehow, though, he manages to keep a somewhat happy smile on his face. At least, he hopes he does. For Annie’s sake, if nothing else. For his own, so he doesn’t turn into a bitter asshole in front of his friends and regret it later.
“I’m going to use the ladies’ room, and then I think we should order something off their dessert menu,” Annie eventually says and slides from the booth.
“Are we all skipping dinner then?” Peeta asks. Annie simply shrugs, a smug smile on her face that Peeta wishes she’d stop flashing him.
“Seems silly to run out into the downpour.”
He can feel his back molars grinding in frustration. Logically, he knows that Annie doesn’t control the weather, but she could be less chipper about the whole thing. Can’t she see how horribly this date is going? Of course she can’t. She doesn’t know what Peeta already knows.
But then she reaches back across and grabs Finnick’s wrist. “You too, honey. Weren’t you just saying you needed to go as well?”
“I was? Oh. Right. Of course,” Finnick says, not at all obvious, and has the audacity to wink at Peeta as he leaves. Peeta scowls after them, left alone with Katniss and now three white wine spritzers in his blood stream. He doesn’t drink like this. He rarely drinks alcohol, period. Not after spending years dealing with his Dad’s messes and his Mom’s anger, the two of them feeding each other’s worst sides until it became the worst kind of sick, toxic carousel of neglect and abuse.
God he doesn’t even feel buzzed. No wonder his Dad used to drink a frightening amount.
Huffing out a breath, Peeta turns back to the table, surprised to feel Katniss’s eyes on him. He keeps turning to partially face her.
“That was a pretty obvious ploy, wasn’t it?” she asks and Peeta scoffs.
“See through.” Her lips twitch slightly and she fidgets with the stem of her empty glass. And silence. Blessed silence. He’s surprised when Katniss breaks it.
“They were obviously trying to give us a moment alone, weren’t they?”
“Like I said, see through,” he answers and she nods. Shifts in her seat, her knee pushing against his this time and he has to choke back a groan. Because he’s all the way in his memories to her completely naked, her body arched on his bed, one hand flat on his headboard, the other pulling mercilessly on his hair, her thighs and knees shaking against his head. Her taste filling his mouth. Her quiet, melodic moans ringing in his ears.
He throws back the rest of drink number three and looks away from Katniss to try and find the server so he can order drink number four.
“I didn’t know it was going to be you,” Katniss murmurs. “They didn’t tell me enough about you to figure it out.”
“Likewise,” Peeta says, although he thinks that was pretty obvious, too. “Honestly Annie didn’t say a word about you, on purpose. But if I’d known, I never would have agreed to this.”
“Why not?” Katniss asks and it sounds a lot like her first version of the question. Challenging and a little hurt. That’s rich, he thinks and he gives up on finding the server. He stares at Katniss for a moment, attempting to ascertain what kind of trick she’s playing. At a loss, he caves and gives her the truth.
“Because you weren’t exactly subtle last month either. You made it pretty obvious that I was a one and done thing for you, Katniss.”
“That’s not… you really think that highly of me?”
“Thinking highly of you’s got nothing to do with it. I’m not saying what you did was wrong. At least it was honest. And also, never play cards. You’re a terrible liar. Annie and Finnick know we’re not giving them the whole story about us.”
“I can lie just fine. You’re whole thing about us obviously not working tipped them off.”
“What else could I have said? We both know you didn’t want me to tell them the truth. Also thanks for thinking I’m a big enough asshole that I’d actually tell them we slept together once.”
She flinches and blushes at his words and scowls slightly. “You still haven’t explained what I did that was so obvious.”
“I’m not an idiot, Katniss. You left without a word, or a note, or anything. That sends a pretty clear message.”
“Well you didn’t exactly come after me,” she says, almost petulant, and Peeta snorts derisively.
“Why would I? I thought we shared something, and the next morning, you were gone. And how would I have come after you, Katniss? Stalk you on Facebook? Go to every greenhouse and landscaping firm in town looking for you? This isn’t some fairy tale.” She winces and Peeta can see he’s made his point so he drives it home. “Anything I would have done to try and find you would have been desperate, pathetic, and creepy. You gave me nothing to believe that you even wanted me to come looking for you. Tell me this… if I had come looking for you, if I’d found you, what would you have done?”
She looks away from him then and he can’t help the small knowing grunt he lets out. “See?”
“It’s not… not that simple,” she murmurs and her lip quivers slightly. Then Peeta really does feel like an asshole. Even worse when her voice warbles a little as she keeps talking. “It was just that I never… I’ve never had a one night stand before and I didn’t know what to think or what I was even feeling after that night with you and I just…” she trails off.
“Got scared,” he offers, softly. Gently. Her eyes jump back up to his and he sucks in air at the questions and intensity behind them. She must see something in his expression though, because she relaxes a little. Her shoulders drop slightly and the scowl on her face melts to something far more open.
“Yes. I got scared. It felt… too big. Way too big for one night and I just… couldn’t. And by the time I started to maybe figure a few things out, it felt pointless.”
“What felt pointless?” he asks, still softly. Because her words have picked his hopes off the ground, dusted her boot prints off of them, and handed them back to his heart. Then he nudges her, trying for a playful smile as he teases her a little. Because she responded to gentle teasing that night. “You know where I live. Could’ve just knocked.”
“And if you’d been with a girlfriend or something?” she asks and Peeta scoffs at that. Her eyes narrow again. “You’re laughing.”
“Kinda funny. I’m not exactly known as a player.”
She scoffs this time. “Sure. I really believe that. Handsome, funny, popular, sweet Peeta who always had dozens of friends, including basically every downtown girl in our school, somehow can’t find a girlfriend.”
“Did you just call me handsome?” he asks, stunned by her bizarre description of him.
“I… maybe,” she practically squawks and then shakes her head. “Not important. You’re also the guy who not five minutes before showing up to a blind date told someone on the phone that he loves them, and you’re laughing at the idea that I might’ve interrupted a lover’s tryst?”
“Telling someone I…” and he can’t help it. He laughs and shakes his head. “Oh Katniss. That was Delly. Delly Cartwright?”
“Delly?” she asks almost blankly.
“Yeah. You remember her from school? You’ve got to, if you actually clocked my dozens of downtown girl friends,” he teases with a partial smile. “We’re still friends. She’s like a sister to me, honestly.”
“Oh,” Katniss says, scrunching up her brow and so Peeta guides her through what she must’ve overheard.
“She’s in fashion school right now and she’s got a midterm project coming up that’s basically the culmination of years of classes, showing her own mini line of fashion. Anyway, one of her classmates, who was supposed to model several of the key pieces, quit school and eloped to France today. The pieces are already pretty much tailored to fit the model who will be wearing them, so now she’s gotta find a replacement who is the same size or somehow retailor all the pieces by next Friday. As you can probably imagine, she’s freaking out.”
“Oh,” Katniss says again and sits up straighter. “Well that’s…great.”
It doesn’t sound like she thinks it’s so great, and Peeta wonders briefly if she wanted him to be a cheating jerk after all. But why would she want that?
“What about you?” he asks carefully and has to suppress a laugh when her gaze turns almost suspicious on him. “Any boyfriends or girlfriends hidden away that I should know about? Maybe that’s the real reason you ran off so fast the morning after.”
She snorts and he gives up suppressing the smile. Katniss stares at him a moment and shakes her head.
“Stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?” he asks.
“Like that,” she says and motions towards his face. “That’s how we got into this mess in the first place.”
“Is it? I thought we got into this mess in the first place because you kissed me, and then I tempted you into my sex den with pear and coffee cake. ”
“Yeah,” she says and taps her fingernails on the table. “I wish I’d gotten a chance to taste it. Why didn’t you serve that with the breakfast you made?”
“Honestly? Completely forgot I had it. My mind was a little preoccupied.”
“With?”
“With you,” he says quietly, but she doesn’t protest, so he keeps talking. “I was preoccupied thinking about you. Naked and sexy in my bed, and wondering if serving you breakfast in bed would convince you to stay longer or scare you away. Thinking about how your kisses made my head spin and I was willing to be dizzy for the rest of my life if it meant kissing you again. Thinking about the way my name sounded falling off your lips, all breathy moans and singing gasps. I was preoccupied because I was scared too, thinking all kinds of too big for one night thoughts, so honestly it’s probably best you did run off the next morning because I was ready to ask you to--”
Katniss mutters a curse word and then lurches across the tiny space between them. Her lips crash against his once, in a quick, hard kiss, and then she retreats, just a little, and he holds his breath. Holds completely still as he stares at her. He’s half turned towards her, his right arm resting on the back of the bench. Left arm resting on the table. There’s nowhere for her to escape without him moving, unless she wants to climb over the table. Or him.
They stare at one another, questions bouncing around his head as quickly as his heart is thundering in his chest. “Isn’t this how we got into this mess in the first place?” he asks in a rasp and Katniss shakes her head.
“We shouldn’t do this. It’ll only encourage them,” she says and ice hits his veins.
“Where are Finnick and Annie anyway,” he wonders out loud. They’ve been gone a long time. But before he can voice that question, Katniss curses again and grips his shirt with both hands.
And his head is spinning again as she kisses him. More desperately this time. Peeta flexes his fingers and keeps his hands away from her, clenches his hands into fists as her lips caress his. As her teeth scrape his lower lip. Until he can’t take it anymore.
Fuck it, he thinks. He cups one hand around the back of her head and holds her right there. Angles his head and kisses her back. Pushing their bodies further into the booth, further out of sight from prying eyes as she whimpers against his tongue and slides her hands into his hair. He shudders as she tugs on the strands and their kiss nearly burns out of control.
He tugs on her hair, pulling their mouths apart and holds her separate. Just a breath away.
“Katniss, wait. Are we really going to do this again?” he asks.
“Your place is closer,” she murmurs. Peeta turns rigid as she licks her lips.
“Katniss,” he whispers, not sure what to say or what to think.
She opens her mouth to maybe explain, but he’ll never know what she was going to say, because that’s when Annie and Finnick return. Peeta and Katniss both jump back away from each other and attempt to act like nothing just happened.
“Alright, who’s ready for dessert!” Finnick declares gleefully, eyeing the two of them as he slides back into the booth. Annie is still smirking and Peeta wants to throttle them both, for slightly different reasons than he did before.
“Dessert sounds good,” Katniss says and plucks the menu out of Finnick’s hands, leaning over to show Peeta their options. “You did say you’re covering this, right, Finnick?”
And Peeta has to suppress a snort of laughter at her saucy tone. She runs one finger down the page and it’s his turn to squirm on the bench, thinking of that night again. How she paused at one point while she was on top of him, her braid half undone, her face still glowing from her first orgasm. Her smile tauntingly sexy as she ran her fingernails over Peeta’s bare skin and laughed at how that simple caress made him writhe. The delicious chills from her touch only making him hotter, needier, as he waited with his cock still inside her, for her to move again.
“Not sure I can choose right now,” he croaks and Katniss flicks a brief, questioning gaze up at him. “Your choice, Katniss. I’ll be content with whatever you decide,” he says and her eyes darken slightly with understanding. Or at least, he hopes it’s understanding.
“Yes, we’d like to order dessert and another round, I think,” Annie’s voice, talking to the server, pulls Peeta back up out of the depths of Katniss’s eyes.
She leans across him to show the server the menu, pointing to what she wants. Peeta has to suppress a laugh when Katniss announces that she wants the pear topped crème brulee, “With two Irish coffees, please.”
She sits back and smiles at Peeta, then waves across the table at their friends. “And whatever they’re having.”
***
She’s nervous, Katniss realizes as she spoons more of the decadent dessert into her mouth. She can’t sit still. She hasn’t been able to sit still all night. Her instincts kept wanting her to lean into Peeta. Touch Peeta. It made no sense at first, given how silent and cold he’d been while walking here from the bakery, his insistence to Annie and Finnick that they’d never work out, his continued quiet all through the first part of this double date.
His smile hadn’t been quite genuine. His laughter muted and strained. Not at all like the sweet man she’d talked to for hours, and certainly not like the surprisingly, intensely passionate man who swept her away on a river of feelings and sensations after she kissed him. And every time she tried to touch him tonight, to bring him closer, he seemed to only move farther away, until she’d started to think that maybe she read their one night together all wrong. Maybe all of his pretty words, all his reverently sensual touches, even his shy offering of breakfast the morning after, had been one big act. One big show to get her into bed.
Maybe it really had just been a night of good sex for Peeta.
It had been mortifying to think that she’d been so wrong about him, so easily seduced, and that her body was somehow still desperate to get close to his, when he so clearly no longer wanted anything to do with her.
But that hadn’t checked at all with what she knew of him. Sure, Peeta had always existed in a crowd of friends, never seeming to want for company, but he was never intentionally selfish or cruel. At least not to her knowledge.
And when Annie and Finnick had left them alone, she’d braced for him to tell her the truth. She hadn’t been prepared for it. Elation and mortification fighting within her until she couldn’t stand it a second longer, knowing now that he’d been hurt, genuinely hurt, by her disappearance the morning after. Because he wanted her to stay. Knowing somehow that he’s been as tormented by their one night together. Knowing that she’d been right to be afraid and yet oh so wrong as well. So she’d kissed him again, and Peeta’s response had only fed her hopes until she felt ready to burst.
She licks her spoon and considers telling Peeta that the dessert isn’t nearly as sweet as his kisses, but she holds herself back. She won’t yet give Finnick and Annie the smug satisfaction of being right about her and Peeta. Whatever it is growing and burning and growing again between them should belong only to them. At least until she figures out what exactly it is.
The dessert is gone too soon, although Katniss notices that Peeta nurses his coffee, just as she does. The check is brought and Finnick hands over his credit card, then once more claims he needs to use the bathroom, although at least Annie doesn’t go with him this time.
“I should probably go,” Katniss announces, turning towards Peeta and hoping he can see in her eyes that she’s not running off again. Something flickers in his gaze, but he backs out of the booth anyway. She fumbles with her coat, Peeta’s much larger one half hanging on top of hers. It’s probably insane, what she’s planning on doing, but Peeta seemed to be giving her permission earlier. Then Peeta reaches around her, plucking her coat off the hook and helping her into it. It’s quiet and intimate, his hands brushing over her shoulder. His thumb trails lightly over her collar bone and she has to physically suppress any reaction to his touch.
It takes everything she has, but she manages.
“Thank you, Annie. And it was good catching up with you again, Peeta,” she says and sticks out her hand, unsure how else to show Annie that there are no hard feelings. No enmity. But also to keep her from figuring out just how much there really is between her and Peeta.
He only hesitates a second before taking her hand, his grip firm, his hand warm. His thumb caresses lightly over her skin and she has to suppress another delighted shiver, remembering the feel of his thumb on decidedly more intimate stretches of her skin.
“Katniss,” he says, almost uncertainly.
And then he lets go of her. She scampers off, releasing a heavy breath and trying not to get her hopes up too high. That kiss, though. The frantic and almost dirty kiss they shared in the booth, makes her think that Peeta wants the same thing she does. He won’t let her down.
As soon as she’s out of the bar, she quickens her pace. It might be easier if she waited, but she’s not willing to risk their friends seeing her lurking about, waiting for Peeta.
***
Peeta’s still half turned, seated in the booth and watching Katniss hurry out of the bar, hoping she’ll turn back at some point. Give him a sign, any sign at all that he should follow. Nothing.
Annie kicks him under the table. “Ow!” he mutters and Annie motions towards the door where Katniss no longer is.
“Did you at least get her phone number?”
“No,” he snaps and rubs at his aching shin. Annie makes a noise of disgust and Finnick slides back into the booth.
“What did I miss?”
“He didn’t even get her phone number,” Annie spits out and Finnick shakes his head at Peeta.
“You two are more deluded than I thought if you believed she’d give me her phone number after that date.”
“Oh please. We’re romantic, not deluded. Are you going to tell us the truth about whatever is going on between you two?” Annie prods. “Because there was some grade A sexual tension brewing on your side of the booth.”
“If it’ll make you shut up and leave me alone,” he says and stands up, bracing his hands on the table and leveling them with the most serious stare he can muster. “We’re secretly married. Her mother hates me. Probably because I’m pregnant with her babies.”
For a moment, they’re silent. Then… Annie snorts and Finnick rolls his eyes.
“Triplets,” Peeta adds and grabs his coat. “Now if you don’t mind, I’m going home to soothe my battered ego and my weird pregnancy cravings. Thanks for the bruschetta and the ego beating.”
He snatches up a handful of the mints the server brought out to go with dessert and pockets them in his coat before leaving. It’s gotten colder and he burrows deeper into his coat, tucking his face down to protect his lips as he starts the short walk home. Hands stuffed in his pocket, he goes back over the whole night and wonders what he’s supposed to do now. What is he supposed to do with that breathless comment Katniss threw out in the middle of kissing.
Your place is closer.
As hard as he tries to suppress them, Peeta’s hopes still balloon and tug against the restraints of his reason. If she’d really wanted to see him again, she would have done something other than run out of there like that. Again.
He’s so lost in his thoughts of her, in his hopes that maybe she did mean something with that comment, that at first, he’s not convinced she’s real. His shoes scrape on the hallway floor leading to his apartment and Katniss looks up from her phone. Her cheeks are windblown into a pretty flush, and several wisps of her hair have escaped her braid. She pockets her phone and pushes herself off of his front door, where she was leaning.
“If this isn’t okay--”
“No,” he says in a rush and she clamps her lips back together, her eyes flashing with something he can’t figure out yet. “No, it’s more than okay.”
“Oh. Okay then,” she says and they stand there, staring at each other for a moment, until he can’t help the smile that stretches his mouth wide. “What?”
“Are we just gonna stand here gawking at each other or are you gonna let me unlock my door?”
Her cheeks darken even more but Katniss steps aside, giving Peeta just enough room. His shoulder still brushes against her body as he moves to unlock the door, only this time, he has no qualms about moving closer to her, rather than retreating from the contact.
***
Yes, yes. I promise there’s a part 4 in the works. *beleaguered authorial sighs in the background*
❤️ kdnfb
