Everlark doing their before-bed rituals in the later stages of the GBT phase, or just after they are together again. Creams on their skin, for scars and skin grafts and leg, Peeta brushing her hair and her helping him detach his prosthetic for the night, and afterwards, cuddling.
My apologies for the tardiness!
I was listening to both Billie Eilish's "Ocean Eyes" and SYML's "Girl" while I was writing this so it has a little chillwave vibe.
My timeline for this is about 2-3 years after the rebellion.
Thanks for the prompt @albinokittens300!
Rated T
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This evening, he’s tired.
Life has never been easy in District 12.
However, when Peeta decided to finally look over the property that was once Mellark Bakery, he didn’t consider the toll that it would take mentally and physically. His head is aching with memories of his family. Of his father’s bright but weary smile or the verbose laughter of his eldest brother. Even his mother’s starchy voice echoes in his ears when he glances at the remnants of their brick oven.
He spent the rest of the day visualizing what could be.
Peeta walked through the grounds knowing that his bakery will not be the same as his parents’. He wants a place for townsfolk to sit down and enjoy what he creates. There are no lines between Seam and Merchant; there aren’t enough people to have any. So, he will create a space for the classes to merge.
Peeta aches as he plops down on their bed.
“Long day, huh?”
Katniss is already on her knees before him. Beside her, towels and a washbowl sit along with a jar of salve. She carefully helps him remove his bottoms, revealing the prosthetic that he wears.
He gives her a wry smile. “Maybe if we hadn’t been through a rebellion, it wouldn’t feel like it.”
“Do you think you’ll do it? Begin again?”
Katniss helps him remove the prosthetic before setting it aside. She cleans it when he’s sleeping—or when he pretends to, anyway. Behind his half-opened eyes, Peeta watches as she examines the socket and suspension making sure that nothing needs replacing. Occasionally, replacement parts will arrive from the Capitol, and she’ll replace them quietly so as not to bother his faux slumber.
Katniss is not good with words, but her actions speak volumes and that’s enough for him.
He looks at her. “Do you think I can?”
She washes his stump as she thinks over his questions. Peeta tries not to let his insecurities get to him, but to see what’s left of his leg leaves him with a sense of shame—like he’s not a real person.
A real man.
“I know you can do it. You were the heart of Mellark Bakery,” Katniss tells him as she dries him off then massages him with the salve. She settles back, examining his expression. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know. Maybe seeing the bakery space took a lot out of me. Or maybe it’s this—” He waves a hand at the stump. “I don’t feel complete…or like a real man.”
Katniss raises a brow, her dark eyes gazing up at him. Her stare is full, blazing with a fire that has never faded over the years.
“Trust me—” Her palms move along his firm thighs and Peeta feels that immediate twitch of his cock. “—you are a real man.” She places a tender kiss on the flesh of his stump, and he feels it everywhere. “It’s not about body, but about spirit—about love. You love fully, and that’s real.”
“Come here.” Peeta tugs at her hand gently, and she rises slowly. Wrapping a hand around the nape of her neck, he kisses her fully. She hums along his lips, that call of her hunger making him ache for her. “Thank you.”
Her hands go to his hair, massaging his scalp and he closes his eyes. “Of course.”
“You’re going to do this with me, right?” Peeta lifts his gaze, seeing her beautiful and golden even in the dim glow of their bedroom. “The bakery?”
“Of course.” Her mouth presses to his. “Together.”
That’s enough for him. “Together.”
Then, there is silence and only low moans as Katniss enjoys the physical aspects of what makes him a man.
++++++
Katniss examines herself in the mirror, a frown marring her expression. She’s not a vain person, but today at the opening of the Mellark Bakery, she felt her insecurities laid out before her.
Today wasn’t about her, but Katniss wanted to be there for Peeta.
She wants to be worthy of being by his side. Be a worthy partner.
Just like the Games, Peeta is all charm. He smiles openly at the customers and gives cookies to the children. He reserves a table for Haymitch so he’s not constantly at home, obsessing over his geese and alcohol supply. Their mentor watched proudly as Peeta doled out a celebration cake, giving Haymitch the second piece.
Hers was the first, of course.
However, there are the women.
Women, who order from him and flirt openly, barely acknowledging her by his side. Women in short sundresses with smooth shoulders and flawless bare legs, not a mark on them. He doesn’t respond, his eyes only for her, but damn if it doesn’t hurt.
She sits in bed, her eyes going to the scars on her legs and the skin graft on her outer thigh. There’s more on her back and along her front. The shallow part of her silently mourns when summer comes, and District 12 runs humid.
“What are you doing?” Peeta stands at the doorway, ready for bed. He approaches, sitting at the foot. He fingers the hem of her white nightgown, and she tugs backs, covering her scars. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Katniss—” He reaches to her bedside where the salve sits. “Don’t hide from me.”
“How can I hide? All my imperfections are out for everyone to see.” She draws in, wrapping her arms around herself. “I see the way people look at you then at me. I’m broken.”
Peeta tuts at her words. He opens the salve, dabbing at the exposed skin grafts on her shoulders. He kisses the back of her neck, and she sighs in pleasure.
“We’re both broken,” he says against her skin. “I think that we’ve mended up stronger than we ever thought we could—because we’re together. We fill those empty spots in each other. Like…soulmates.”
Katniss can practically feel his blush as he continues taking care of her scars. She once jokingly scoffed at the concept, earning a scowl from him. However, as he moves the hem of her nightgown, his gaze on her body adoringly unabashed, Katniss believes fully in the concept.
Their eyes meet, and she nods. “Yes, soulmates.”
His smile at her agreement rivals the dawn.
After Peeta places the salve back on her table, he helps her slip under their sheets and undoes her braid, running his fingers gently through her thick tendrils to untangle any snags.
Her eyes grow heavy, and she feels Peeta pull her close. Her head goes to his chest, her body pressing against the line of his own.
