If You Don't Know Me By Now
I actually started writing a fic based on a promptFamousfremus sent me some months ago. I figured it's her birthday, give the lady what she wants! But then the story went in another direction and I ended up chucking it and coming up with this one. So, like a fuddy duddy aunt who knows you love coffee but gives you a tea set, hoping that you drink tea, I offer up this little one-shot. There is a birthday in here (blink and you might miss it)! And it's based on an 80's song by Simply Red, which is our decade (more or less!).
You are a lovely lady and a dear friend and I really appreciate your kindness and upbeat support. I love working with you and chatting with you – you are one of the best consequences of joining tumblr and your notes are one of the bright spots of my day.
So, Happy Birthday, and here goes…
XXXXX
If You Don't Know Me By Now
All the things
That we've been through
You should understand me
Like I understand you
Now girl I know the difference
Between right and wrong
I ain't gonna do nothing
To break up our happy home
It wasn't the flirting that set Katniss off. Not completely, anyway. She'd grown somewhat resigned to the fact that women would flirt with Peeta. He had always been handsome but it seemed the older he got, the hotter he became. In his 30's, Peeta had lost that youthful sweetness of his teens and early twenties. That, together with his scars and broad, baker's shoulders and chest, gave him an irresistible, rugged appearance.
His character, however, had not changed. He was still gregarious and easy to get along with. That combination of centerfold-worthy manliness and humorous, witty intelligence was enough to melt the panties off of the most uptight woman.
It really wasn't the flirting at all that put Katniss into the state she was in now. In fact, truth be told, had the young Ms. Crawley noticed Katniss hovering in the back of the bakery, she probably would have never dared to do what she had done. The lovely, red-headed twenty year old was like every other woman in District 12. They were simply too intimidated by Mrs. Mellark to be anything more than cordial around her or her very desirable husband.
It was when Katniss wasn't around that all the foolishness took place.
No, it was the surreptitious swipe of that foul, pale woman's hand on the curve of Peeta's delectable derriere that had sent Katniss into a paroxysm of murderous jealousy. Peeta had been appropriately non-plussed, stepping out of the way of her wandering hand while continuing to show the young woman the birthday cake designs the bakery offered. But she had no idea Katniss was watching so when she leaned into Peeta again, the slight stiffening of his frame indicating his discomfort, Katniss had slammed a tray down onto the counter, startling them all. She was of a mind to grab the little hussy and drag her bodily from the shop but for Thom's arrival, which had further calmed the woman's audacity and given Peeta a motive to step behind the bakery counter again.
A few hours later, Katniss stood drying herself in the bathroom of their small apartment above the bakery – an incoming snowstorm had made the walk home to Victor's Village treacherous. She rinsed her face and looked in the mirror, studying her reflection. When she put herself against Ms. Crawley, she felt as if she came up short. The young woman, daughter of the new owner of the apothecary, was a tall, slender red-haired girl with sea green eyes and skin that glowed like marble. She was considered quite the beauty and was unfortunately far too aware of the fact herself.
Katniss was the complete opposite of her in every possible way and, while Katniss also possessed of a truly luminous, albeit olive complexion, it had since been marred by the scars from the explosion that had ended Coriolanus Snow's reign almost twelve years ago. She'd resented those scars, not because of their effect on her appearance but because they'd reminded her of the day her sister died.
Now, however, she also had to add the effect they'd had on skin that had once been as clear and beautiful as that silly girl's skin. She padded into the bedroom, now warmed by the heat of the ovens rising up from the bakery. She stood before the full length mirror, tracing the scars that swept over her right shoulder and neck, down her torso as if the outline of flames had been painted directly onto her skin. Her fingers skimmed further over her hip, just touching her legs where the flames seemed to wane and flicker out over her calf. She thought about the girl's firm, high breasts, not much bigger than her own but surely different than hers, just by virtue of her coloring. Is that what men wanted? Was it variety they sought? And wasn't Peeta just as much of a man as any other?
The idea that Peeta might even be mildly curious about another woman filled her with such dread, she could almost feel her knees buckle under the weight of it. As if she'd invoked him, he suddenly appeared behind her shoulder. She was shocked at his entrance, so engrossed had she been in her scrutiny.
"What are you doing?" he asked, studying her as she'd studied herself, but with an expression far different from the one she wore.
"Do you ever get curious?" she asked as he took in her nakedness. He'd seen her without clothes a thousand times – and though it never ceased to embarrass her, there was also something in the way that woman looked at Peeta that made her want to straighten her back and not shrink down before anything – not even her own insecurities.
"About what, Katniss?" she watched in the mirror as his hand came to rest over her hip before drifting up her side, causing a shiver to race over her skin.
"Curious. You know. About what another woman might look like?" she asked, mesmerized by the feather-light feel of his fingers on her skin.
"I know what other women look like. I saw naked girls before you," he said quietly, his eyes still locked on the reflection of his fingers on her.
"I mean now, after more than 10 years. You're not…bored?" she probed.
Peeta turned her away from the mirror to face him and peered into her eyes. "What is this all about?"
She didn't want him to percieve her jealous possessiveness, the way she had been reduced to rage and anguish by that Crawley girl's invasion of what she considered her space. She felt her blood boil again at the mere thought of it. She'd had no right, no right at all, touching him that way, touching what was mine…
Suddenly, Katniss stood up on her tip-toes and set her lips firmly against his, her tongue pressing, demanding to be let into his mouth. When he gave way, she kissed him without temerity, taking what belonged to her, what had belonged to her for longer than that idiotic child had been a woman. She kissed him this way for several long moments, one hand threaded in his hair, the other grasping his hip and gripping him to her. He moaned softly against her, gasping for air when she finally released him.
"Katniss, I…"
But she was beyond speaking to him. She wasn't much for words anyway and this was one moment where words would not do justice to the way she felt. She pushed him backwards, her eyes so intense, he was taken completely by surprise by the look in them. Methodically, Katniss removed his clothes, one piece at a time, dropping them in a neat pile to her right, her eyes never leaving his. He didn't dare speak – she'd woven a spell over him where the only sound in the room was the swishing of his clothes as they were taken off of his body.
When he was finally naked, Katniss studied him like a cat studies her prey, wondering where would be the weakest point to strike before taking down her victim. But it wasn't flesh and bone that she would conquer. What she wanted was to strike out the fantasy of every woman that would ever cross his path.
She reached down to very deliberately fondle his testicles, watching his face as he hissed. There was a thrill to being the newest thing but on the other hand, there was also the advantage to knowing a body the way Katniss knew Peeta's – she didn't fumble or make mistakes in pleasing him. Her tongue traced the matching licks of fire across his skin – the raised, rough flesh they'd earned the same day so long ago. Katniss had learned afterwards that he'd come to the square right behind her, to protect her, and so they burned together like every other time. Together. They were then like they were now. Like they would always be, if she had anything to say about it.
Her kisses covered the expanse of his skin as she sank down to her knees, kissing his belly and inner thighs. It was then she took him into her mouth and sucked on him, gently at first, with teasing strokes of her tongue, the small kisses on the tip and shaft before she took him in earnest, her head moving with determination, concentrating on the familiar skin, altering her treatment, unsheathing and sheathing her teeth. When he seemed close she released him to capture his sack in her mouth in a way she hadn't done in a while. His head fell back and he stroked himself as she sucked and laved him.
When she returned to encompass his cock with her mouth again, he grasped her suddenly to him and kissed her hard. With the practiced dexterity of a man used to lifting heavy sacks of sugar and flour, he lifted her and flipped her onto their bed and was inside her before she could grasp his intent.
"Katniss, shit, what's gotten into you?" he asked in awe, holding her hands over her head as he plunged into her. She lifted her hips in encouragement and felt his every stroke land in the deepest part of her belly.
He shifted forward, because he knew her body also, and swirled his hips, eliciting a long, low moan from her. He released her hands to capture her breasts, pausing the ramming of his hips against hers to suck on them hard, pinching the skin and biting the tender swells. When he'd showered her shoulders and neck with kisses and bites, Katniss grasped his buttocks and pulled him into her.
"Ung, Peeta, make me come…" she pleaded. She wanted it to be him to give that to her and she shifted her hips so that he would strike her where she would feel the most pleasure. Leaning forward, he rocked into her again with long strokes. She felt it – the tell-tale, coiling rise of heat and tension snaking its way through her belly. He grasped her head and held her still.
"This is the best part – watching you come apart," he whispered breathlessly as he sped up, staying a step behind her so that when she rose, he would rise with her.
It was in that way - forehead to forehead, hips aligned instinctively, heaving chests and groans of hunger and desire - that Katniss crested and fell, everything she knew up to that moment falling away from her while Peeta raced to his end just after her. His face crumbled as their bodies offered up shudder after shudder of release until all that remained was a quivering suspension of movement and then silence.
Peeta dropped his head onto her shoulder. She ran her fingers through his damp curls, the smell of sweat mingling with the various aromas of the bakery – sugar, flour, vanilla, the cardamon and spices of cakes in preparation for the Winter Festival. Squeezing him close, she savored the feel of his heavy, moist body against hers, even if eventually, he would have to move to keep from crushing her. But as long as she could endure it, she would continue to embrace him.
Just as his weight became unbearable, Peeta lifted himself on his forearms and gazed down at Katniss. His deep blue eyes swept over her features as if seeing her for the first time.
"Talk to me," he urged.
She shook her head. "I just…I love you."
"And I love you." He shifted onto his side and continued watching her, running a finger down her cheek to rest on her chin. "It's always been you – since the beginning. And it will always be you."
Katniss looked at herself and looked at him. "But I'll change. I won't ever be what I was when I was young."
Peeta laughed at her. "Well, if that's the measure of things, I had two legs when everything started. What should I say?"
She laughed, because between them they could laugh at such things. "Even without a leg, you are the handsomest, most desirable man in District 12. In Panem, for that matter." Her eyes flitted away. "I'm not the only one who thinks so."
Peeta pulled his head back to look at her. "Katniss, honestly, do you think that a little, empty-headed girl like Lilly Crawley could possibly hold a candle to you?" His incredulity spread over his face and only grew as she considered his words.
"She's young, and unscarred, and probably doesn't wake up every other night screaming from nightmares," she said matter-of-factly.
"And she also has no courage, no character, and wouldn't be able to catch her own dinner if it were boxed and left on her doorstep." Katniss chuckled at this. "You are singular, in every way, and not because of what we went through." She became serious as he continued to speak. "Katniss, I will never love anyone like I love you. It gives me a pain in my chest just thinking of even trying to love someone else." He dipped his head to kiss her, a far gentler kiss than the one she'd given him, but full of the same, persistent heat, the slow burning flame that always flared when they were together. "If you don't know me by now…"
"I do know you," she said quietly. "And you know that I love you also, so very much."
"Well, then, you're stuck with me, Mrs. Mellark." He clasped her hand, rolling the pearl ring he'd given her so many years ago when he'd first proposed between his thumb and forefinger. "And be careful. Because I love you more, not less, each day."
Katniss nodded, capturing the fingers that toyed with her ring and kissed each and every one.
XXXXX
Ms. Crawley came to the bakery a few days later. As was her habit, she sidled up to Peeta giving him her brightest, most seductive smile. Katniss felt the flood of adrenaline in her blood, causing her heart to pound. Visions of disemboweling the girl kept invading her thoughts but Katniss held herself in place. She did know him and he had spent more than half of his life loving her unconditionally. He'd put himself in the way of death so many times for her, had loved her during a time when she'd given him so little in return. And now he was here and they belonged to each other. There was that and so much more between them.
So, as he handed Lilly the box with her order and the receipt for payment, Katniss calmly, without fear, turned away and walked back to help Iris clean the ovens.