🍺Katniss is turning 18 (or 21, depending on where you are)! Where does she go out to celebrate and with whom?
Uh oh...so here’s what happened. I wrote an answer and then when I read it back I got inspired and well…now there’s a Drabble!
I guess technically a Modern!AU. Everyone is alive and well and happy! Katniss’s friends and family gather to celebrate her birthday at a local dive bar! About 1500 words of fluff hidden under the cut
If folks like this maybe I’ll give it a better round of editing and put it on ao3 later! Thanks for the ask! 🧡
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"Surprise!" The chorus shouts.
I leap at the sudden sound. Peeta's chest against my back and his hold on my shoulders are the only things that keep me from fleeing out of the dive bar's doors.
"Happy Birthday, Brainless!" Johanna snarks, shoving a condensation soaked glass into my hand. With a loud kiss to my cheek she passes me off to my other apparent guests.
"Happy Birthday, Katniss!" Madge approaches next, taking the terrifying acidic-green drink from my hand and replacing it with a glass of white wine instead. Much more my speed. She sweeps me into a hug, "I'm sorry for all the secrecy but Peeta and I knew you wouldn't let us celebrate you otherwise."
I roll my eyes, but I know she's right. I've never loved being the center of attention. Even as a kid, my favorite birthdays were always celebrated up at the lake with my family, just us four swimming under the warm spring sun. Now though, there's a few more people I wouldn't mind celebrating with and even more who seem to want to celebrate me.
With an arm securely around my waist, Peeta walks me over to a table near the bar covered in small wrapped packages and surrounded by my loved ones: Finnick and Annie, sharing a singular chair, Delly with a smile as wide as the sun, my Uncle Haymitch looking surprisingly sober, even my parents and Prim, a tell-tale stamp on her hand to keep the bartenders from serving her.
With each and every hug of congratulations, each joyous wish of "Happy Birthday," my nerves wane. Once I finish that first glass of wine, I'm cheery and excited about celebrating. After the second, I'm practically elated about the turn the day has taken. At so many people I love being together and happy. The third comes served with a small cake that was hidden away in the bar's fridge, but I'd recognize Peeta's handiwork anywhere.
"Lemon, your favorite." He declares as he sets the delicacy in front of me. A swirling meadow of green and yellow flowers expertly brought to life in superbly sweet frosting.
I blush as red as Madge's wine as they sing the song, drawing the attention of the other bar patrons until the whole place is joining in. A raucous cheer goes up when I make my wish.
"So what did you wish for?" Prim asks as she helps cut the cake.
"That's a secret, little duck!" I answer with a wink.
When Peeta sets the first slice in front of me though, I can't stop myself from tugging his shirt sleeve so he leans down to hear me. "Do you want to know what I wished for?"
He smiles. Shifting himself so we're eye to eye, our faces close in the dim light. "Always."
I move closer, trying to speak my secret into his ear. But the wine is starting to go to my head, and I lose my balance on the edge of the chair. Peeta catches me without a second thought — he always does — scooping me safely into his arms before setting me back down just as easily.
"You, okay?" He calls over the music and chatter.
"Mhhmm" I nod, giggling all the while.
"You having fun?" Peeta asks next.
I nod again. Then crook my finger at him, "come here!"
He steals an empty chair and siddles up next to me.
I brace myself with a hand of his chest and lean in to speak into his ear. "I wished for you."
"For me? Well, that was silly." He teases. "You already have me, darlin'"
"Don't call my birthday wish silly!" I feign offense.
"Of course, my apologies. The birthday girl is always right!" Peeta quips.
"That's not how I meant it anyway."
"How did you mean it then?"
I could tell him. Could make some flirty little comment. Or whisper something particularly dirty in his ear. That's what Peeta would do. Peeta would have me wet and wanting with a few perfectly placed words until I had no choice but to immediately drag him out the door with no plans of stopping the entire three blocks back to our apartment. But I've never had Peeta's gift for such scandalous gab.
I grip his t-shirt in my hand and drag him forward, crashing his lips against mine. He tastes like buttercream and the single glass of whiskey he's been sipping on all night. His arms find my waist, mine his neck, as we melt into a singular being driven by instinct and sensation. I push my tongue into his mouth. He pulls away.
"Katniss." He says, a tell-tale hint of warning in his tone.
"What?" I ask, chasing his lips into another kiss. He lets me have one. Just one. Prick.
"We can't do that here." He reminds me, all annoyingly sensible and realistic.
"Why?" I whine anyway, dropping my head petulantly to his shoulder.
He turns his head to speak into my ear, the heat of his breath against my neck does little to quell the sparking coals beginning to burn up under my skin. "We're in public for one. All of our friends are here. Your little sister is here. Not to mention, your parents! I know you well enough to know that you'd be mighty embarrassed tomorrow if I let you get things out of hand."
Peeta sits up with a fond laugh, reaching across the table for the pitcher of water. He fills my glass to the brim. "Besides, you've had now three glasses of wine and I am a gentleman."
Fine then. I snag the glass and tilt my head back to drain it down in one. I vaguely hear Finnick and Johanna cheering me on with boisterous cries of "Chug! Chug! Chug!" I ignore them and slam the now empty cup back down on the table.
"Now…let's go home." I declare, leaning in to steal a quick peck.
"But you're loved ones are still celebrating you!" He comments, claiming a kiss against my cheek for himself.
"I'm done being celebrated, I want you to take me home!" I mimic his action, speaking again his flushed cheek.
He laughs, light and teasing. To all our friends it seems like a perfectly normal Peeta laugh. But I know better. Know by the way his hands fall back to my waist. By the way his hands do anything but stay there, sliding lower and lower until they settle firmly on my ass. The sight hidden from the world by the heavy wood table. He leans in close, mouth hovering over mine but denying me the thing I want most, "And what makes you think the celebrating is going to stop once we get there."
Okay, maybe there are a few things I want more than Peeta's lips against mine. His lips — and tongue — a few other places for instance, "Then stop teasing and take me home."
He sinks back into his chair. A chill runs through me at the sudden absence of his hands burning against my waistband, "Eat your cake first, then we can go. You're…"
"…going to need the sugar?" I guess.
His teasing grin turns positively cocky. He throws me a wink.
Just this once, I do as I'm told. At first I have plans to try to tease him, but I get distracted the moment the tart lemon and sweet frosting hits my tongue. Peeta's right, it is my favorite. And…it is my birthday, so I decide to savor every single bite.
The sugar does perk me up a bit, but now there's a buzz rushing under my skin that cannot be blamed on the wine. Definitely time to go.
Peeta and I make our excuses as casually as we can. I gleefully accept a last round of hugs and birthday wishes. A kiss on the cheek from both of my parents. A ruffle of my hair from Uncle Haymitch. And with a last promise from my father to ensure everyone is safely put into cars home, Peeta and I slip out the door.
The chill of the cool night air is an immediate balm after the stifling heat of the bar. But I don't feel it for long. Not even three steps down the block, Peeta sweeps me off my feet and into the air. I throw my arms around his neck for balance, and just because I can. A much better balm.
"I was waiting for you to do that?" I quip, placing a loud kiss to his cheek.
"Were you?"
"Yes! Birthday girl is required to be carried." I declare.
"Birthday girl is required to be carried." He repeats, "I'll remember that for my birthday."
