A/N: Thanks to everyone who faved and followed book one! Here's book two: Seduction (:

Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games.

Book Two: Seduction

Cato watched Peeta through the cameras set up in the bedroom. He was minding the desk while Finnick was out and had somehow found himself typing in the code to the camera in the guest room to see what their new resident was up to. It was still early morning, so the young boy was still asleep.

Why had he offered Peeta a job? The question still rattled around inside his head like a loose bag of marbles. When finding people to work in the institute, the Hadley family had always been careful, they didn't just throw jobs at people out of the blue. Certainly not at diminished, for that matter.

There was something about Peeta that attracted him like a magnet. The boy had a constant presence, leaving behind a bit of himself even when he left the room. He was confident, stubborn, annoyingly gorgeous with a body that God must have spent a special amount of time working on.

While he slept, Peeta made small purring noises that could be heard through the camera. It was like something he couldn't control, something wild that came from his throat whenever it pleased. He slept like a human, not curled up like a cat, and every so often he'd stretch out, readjusting his position before settling down again. Cato felt like he was doing a behaviour study, learning the ways of the neko.

Finnick returned suddenly and Cato compeltely forgot which button switched off the camera. Finnick quirked an amused eyebrow. "Enjoying ourselves, are we?" he teased.

"Shut up, it's not like I was getting off on it anything. I was just checking up on him," Cato muttered, moving away from the computer.

"I wouldn't judge you if you were," Finnick said. He glanced at the live feed and smiled. "I'd certainly tap that if I was given the chance."

"But that's you Finnick, not me," said Cato.

"Per-lease, I've seen the way you look at him, you want to make that boy purr for you," Finnick teased.

Cato rolled his eyes. "Wouldn't that count as beastiality or something?"

Finnick snorted and shook his head. "You're impossible sometimes." He glanced back at the computer. "If you're not going to have a shot at it, I might."

Cato stiffened. "No relationships between staff," he said firmly, a rule he just made up.

"Since when have you followed the rules?" Finnick grinned.

"Just get to work Odair, I'll go wake Peeta up."

"Are you going to kiss him awake like in Sleeping Beauty?!" Finnick yelled after him, laughing when Cato flipped him off. The closer he got to Peeta's room, the louder the peaceful purring got. It was a sweet sound, comforting almost, Cato wouldn't mind listening to that as he fell asleep every night . . .

Shaking the thought from his head, he knocked on the door. "Peeta? Peeta, it's time you were up." He pushed the door open and entered, immediately pausing at the sight before him.

Peeta was sleeping on his stomach, his face buried in his pillow. He must have moved when Cato had been making his way to the room. The duvet had gathered around his waist and Cato let his eyes trail over the strong muscles of his back. That wasn't what made him pause, however. It was the fact that his tail was moving, even though he wasn't.

It was an odd sight. The black furry appendage drifted lazily back and forth, as if swaying in the breeze. It seemed to sometimes stroke the skin of Peeta's back, caressing him while he slept. Did that thing have a mind of its own or something? Cato approached the bed and examined the tail more closely, trying to find strings or proof of an allusion. But there was nothing other than a delicate piece of fur.

Entranced by the tail's beauty, Cato reached out to touch it, just to see what it felt like. As soon as his fingers skimmed the fur, Peeta woke up with a jolt. Cato barely had a chance to defend himself as the young boy flipped onto his back with a hiss and tried to take a swipe at him with his claws. Cato grabbed his wrist before he could and pinned it to the mattress before any damage was done.

"What are you doing?!" Cato exclaimed.

"I could ask you the same question!" Peeta yelled, his breathing panicked and laboured.

"I was waking you up!"

"By molesting my tail?!" Peeta's blue eyes were wild, the blue a different shade from the previous day. Could eyes even do that? Was it possible to change colour?

Cato rolled his eyes. "Don't be a drama queen, I barely touched it."

"Oh so if I came into your room and started groping you it'd be okay?" Peeta demanded.

"I wasn't groping you! Trust me, if I was groping you, you'd know all about it!"

Peeta set his jaw. "Get off me please," he said sweetly. He noticed that the older boy was now staring at his ears and they flattened self consciously against his head. "Do you mind not oggling me?"

"I'm not oggling you," Cato replied, pushing away from him and shaking his head. "Just get dressed and meet me in the reception room." Peeta scowled and sat up, brushing his hair back over his ears.

God, this was going to be difficult.

~xXx~

Peeta slinked around the reception room non-commitedly. Cato forced himself not to watch him while he moved while Finnick had less self control and watched with wide eyes. They had given the neko a simple task of tidying up, which he did very poorly. Every so often, Cato would tell him to focus but all he got in return was a weird flick of the tail that Cato had a feeling was his way of flipping him off.

"Will you stop staring? You're naseating me," Cato told Finnick.

"I'm not staring at anything," Finnick said indignantly.

"Yes you are and you're not even doing it descreetly," replied Cato.

Peeta turned and smiled brightly, his eyes sparkling as if he knew they were talking about him. He pointed at a door to his left. "Is this the storage cupboard you were talking about?" he asked.

"You mean the storage cupboard I told you to go to to get the cleaning supplies half an hour ago? Yes, that's it," answered Cato.

"It's locked."

Swearing under his breath, Cato straightened up. "Hold on, I'll get the key-"

"Don't worry about it." Peeta flicked his pointer finger so a claw popped out and wedged it into the lock on the door. He jiggled it around for a moment before there was a click and the door opened. "I got it."

Oh joy, so he could get into locked rooms, that wasn't worrying at all.

When Peeta disappeared into the storage cupboard, Finnick exhaled a breath he seemed to have been holding for a long time. Cato looked at him incredulously. "Are you alright?" he asked.

"Man, I never thought I'd find a kitten sexy," Finnick breathed.

"You know he'll scratch your eyes out if he hears you call him that."

"It's true though."

Peeta emerged again a second later with a blue fluffy duster. He went to the reception desk where Cato and Finnick sat, brushing the feathers against the wood lazily. "So what are we talking about?" he asked.

"Just a booking for later today," Cato lied smoothly.

"Who is it?"

"A girl called Bennal wants her boyfriend punished for lying to her about being gay," Finnick explained.

Peeta winced. "A bit harsh," he commented.

"Not our place to judge. We just do what's asked of us," Cato said.

"So what do you do? Knock them out like you did to me and drag them off to that concrete prison?" asked Peeta. "Or is there a different method for each person?"

"Depends on what's asked."

"And what's asked?"

"Just pain. Kind of leaves the playing field open for interpretation."

The bell attached to the door suddenly rang and the three of them looked at the door as it opened. An attractive man with chocolate brown hair came in, dripping wet from the rain outside. Peeta snapped his tail back into his pants, wincing at little at the aburpt movement. "Hey," the man said, "my girlfriend Bennal told me she'd meet me here? Said she'd book a room or something?"

Finnick smiled that wide grin of his that showed all of his teeth and immediately put people at ease. "Of course," he said. "What's the second name?"

"Janet."

"Ah yes, here's your room. Number 309. If you want to go on up there we'll let Miss Janet know when she arrives," Finnick said, passing over a counterfeit key.

The man shook his head. "Nah, I'll just wait for her here."

Finnick and Cato exchanged an annoyed look. Why do people have to be so difficult. "Are you sure?" asked Cato. "It's not really comfortable here."

"She should be here any minute," the man answered.

Cato resisted the urge to faceplant the desk. Peeta, sensing they were getting nowhere, smiled brightly and stepped closer to the man. "Here, let me take your coat, you're probably exhausted," he said, pulling the coat of the man's shoulders and hanging it up on the coat rack. He sidled up to the man and batted his eyelashes seductively, immediately capturing his attention. "So what's your name?"

"Nile," the man answered. Damn it, they should have told Peeta the no name rule! Nile gave Peeta a blatant once over, a smirk immediately gracing his features afterwards.

"Nile," Peeta repeated, purring the name like it was a sacred prayer. Cato and Finnick watched, both confused. What was he doing? "What a nice name. Tell me, Nile, is this relationship with your girlfriend . . . serious?"

Nile shook his head. "Not really. Why?"

"Don't know, really. I've just been looking for a man, someone who could show me what it feels like to be alive." Peeta blinked innocently, biting his bottom lip in a coy fashion. "Do you think you could be that man?"

Finnick, knowing where this was going before Cato really twigged on, flicked the feather duster so it landed on the carpet silently. "Oops," he said, smiling sheepishly.

"Don't worry, I'll get it," Peeta said. He crouched to the floor and picked it up, making sure his ass stuck out a little bit as he did so. Nile looked enchanted, watching his descend down and his ascent back up in awe. Handing the feather duster back to Finnick, he turned back to Niles. "Do you?"

Niles looked at Cato and Finnick, who both looked away and pretended to be busy doing other things. He looked back at Peeta and grinned. "Sure."

"Should we take this to your room then?"

Nile nodded and grabbed the key, both of them exiting the reception together.

"What just happened?" asked Cato.

"I'm not sure," Finnick replied.

Peeta returned fifteen minutes later, dusting his hands off. His lips were a bit swollen and coated in saliva but other than that he was virtually untouched. His tail wasn't in his pants anymore, instead erect and swaying in the breeze. "Done," he said, picking up the duster and continuing his lazy attempt at cleaning the desk.

"What did you do?" Finnick asked.

"He's in the room, waiting for you," Peeta answered. "Well, I say waiting, he's unconscious but same diff. He grabbed my ass and accidentally squeezed my tail in the process so I scratched him so sorry about that, I cleaned up the wound after he went out."

"How did you do it?" Cato demanded.

"It's called seduction, my darling, although I doubt you know much about that," answered Peeta.

"I know plently about it," said Cato indignantly.

"Molesting someone's tail doesn't count," answered Peeta.

"You molested his tail!?" Finnick exclaimed.

"No, I didn't molest his tail," Cato sighed.

Peeta looked at Finnick and mouthed, He did, at him. "Damn, that doesn't seem fair. I knew you were warning me off just so you could have him all to yourself," Finnick said with a knowing smirk. Peeta raised his eyebrows and Cato glared, wishing this whole conversation would just end.

"If it makes you feel any better I'd choose you over him any day. At least you would ask before you molested me," Peeta said.

"I didn't molest-You know what? I give up!" Cato exclaimed.

Peeta chuckled. "Okay big boy, whatever you say."

~xXx~

So that was how Finnick and Peeta ended up in a weird relationship. Really, Cato knew he should have saw it coming. An agile, sexy, bendy feline up against a walking sex machine, it was bound to happen at one point. Cato only wished he hadn't found out the way he had. They had been tiptoeing around him, the both of them, trying to hide the fact that they had been doing it together. That's what made the relationship weird. It wasn't emotional, it was just physical, and neither seemed to give a damn.

Cato had been working the reception-he hadn't been sure where exactly Finnick was-and found himself hacking back into the camera in Peeta's room. Again, something he wished he hadn't done.

Peeta was on his hands and knees, trembling in pleasure and crying out as Finnick spanked him for being a-quoted-'naughty little kitten'. Wasn't Peeta supposed to not like that? Or had Gloss just said that to take up time? Whichever answer it was, he certainly liked it now. Every so often, Finnick would try to stroke the younger boy's tail but he didn't let him, constantly weaving it out of his grasp so he could only look, not touch.

Finnick pulled the boy's underwear down agonizingly slow, even for Cato who wasn't even a part of what was going on. He was nearly crushing the pencil in his hand in anger, seething with rage at the fact that they were doing this behind his back. No, not anger, jealousy. Only he wouldn't admit this to himself.

Cato switched the computer off, not realizing that he had started to sweat. He wiped his forehead with his sleeve and tried to get on with his work.

When the couple returned to the reception, he barely spared them a second glance. They were playing it cool again, like nothing had been happening, but now that Cato knew it was obvious. They stole glances at each other, Peeta sometimes blushed when he met Finnick's eyes . . . urgh it was sickening.

Peeta continued seducing difficult diminished. It was like he didn't even have to try, it just came as a second nature to him. It became a routine. Wake up, deal with work, watch Peeta and Finnick pretend they weren't fuck buddies and then go to sleep. Sometimes, if he listened hard enough, Cato could hear the headboard in Finnick's room banging against the wall at night.

He sometimes dreamed that he was in Finnick's place, he would show Peeta what it felt like to be fucked by a proper man. No offence to Finnick or anything, but Cato knew he could make Peeta see stars if he wanted to. Which he didn't, of course. Sometimes he found himself daydreaming about the many ways Peeta's body could bend, the many ways he could make him moan and scream in ecstasy. The things he would do that boy would blow his mind.

Cato rubbed his eyes tiredly, having not gotten much sleep the previous night due to screaming and headboard banging. When he entered reception he was greeted by an odd sight.

Peeta was sleeping on the floor by the desk, curled up in a little ball, those sleeply purring sounds emnating from his prone body. Finnick was at his usual work station, glancing at the slumbering boy every so often as if checking he was okay.

"Why is he sleeping?" Cato asked.

"Didn't get much sleep last night."

"Because you were screwing all night, right?"

Finnick looked at him in alarm but Cato waved it off tiredly. "Don't worry about it," he muttered.

"Cato, I'm sorry, I know you were-"

"I was what?" asked Cato. "I'm not interested in him, if that's what you're going to say. He's all yours."

Finnick didn't look like he believed him but glanced at Peeta with affectionate eyes. "You wouldn't be saying that if you got to know him," he said.

"Oh yeah, because you know how much time you have to get to know someone as you're spanking them for being a naughty kitty," Cato replied.

Finnick rolled his eyes, not caring that Cato had obviously been watching them. "You know, sarcasm is the lowest form of wit," he said. "And the cruellest. There's more to that boy than a body and you'd know that if you actually got that stick out of your ass and talked to him proprely."

"Don't give me the speech Finnick," Cato said, rolling his eyes. "I'm not in the mood for it."

"Because I'm having sex with your Peeta."

"He's not my Peeta."

Peeta moaned in his sleep before forcing his eyes open irritably. "What's happening?" he asked, his voice hoarse with sleep.

"Nothing," Cato said sharply.

Peeta sat up and stretched, his shirt riding up to reveal a strip of his pale, flat stomach. Cato didn't look at him, instead opening up the appointment book and seeing who was scheduled for today. Finnick took Peeta's hand and helped him stand up. "I'm actually glad that you found out, Cato. Because now I can do this without worrying about you seeing."

Finnick turned Peeta around and kissed him hard. Surprised but not really minding, Peeta framed Finnick's face and closed his eyes. Cato rolled his eyes, pretending he didn't care and that he didn't notice the way their jaws flexing gave away that tongues were being involved.

Still mad from the conversation him and Cato just hand, Finnick put it all into the kiss, overwhelming the unsuspecting boy with his vigor. He almost even tried to push the beanie hat Peeta wore to cover his ears off his head, only to be stopped. "Easy Finn," Peeta said, pulling away to give him a weary look.

"Sorry," Finnick said sheepishly.

Cato tried not to smirk. At least there was still some level of control in their . . . uh . . . 'relationship'. Peeta obviously didn't like being touched on his kitty parts, even when with someone he liked. Cato felt a bit assured by this. At least he wasn't the only one who wasn't allowed to touch them.

"This carpet's a disgrace, is there a vacuum anywhere?" Cato raised his eyebrows at Peeta, surprised that he actually seemed genuinely interested in doing some work. Peeta raised his own back. "Hello? Anyone in there?"

Cato blinked. "Oh yeah, there should be one in the back cabinet in the storage cupboard."

Peeta nodded and unlocked the door, slipping inside and shutting it behind him. Cato and Finnick both looked at each other, as if they could portray their boiling animosity for each other in one long stare. Cato wasn't quite sure why he was irritated but guessed it was something to do with the fact that Finnick had obviously ignored his instructions that staff couldn't be involved with other staff. It didn't have anything to do with Peeta . . . Obviously.

"If you liked him, why didn't you just say?" Finnick finally asked.

"I don't like him, I tolerate him."

"Then why are you so frumpy all of a sudden?"

Cato frowned. "Frumpy isn't even a word," he muttered.

"And you're avoiding the question," said Finnick.

Before Cato could respond, Peeta came back, a small portable vacuum in his hands. "This was all I could find," he said. He rubbed his eye and pulled a face. "What time is it?"

"6:30," Cato answered.

"In the morning?!" Peeta exclaimed. "What the hell am I doing up at 6:30 in the morning?!"

"Working." Cato couldn't understand why this was so shocking. Maybe it just wasn't as horrifying to him, since he had been getting up at this time ever since he was a little boy. Finnick had grown accustomed to it as well but had also went through a phase where all he did was complain about being up at this ungodly hour.

Peeta shook his head and blinked away the sleep in his eyes. Resting an elbow on the desk and propping his chin on his hand, he wrapped his tail around the handle of the vacuum and started to clean up the carpet with it. It was almost comical that he could do his job without even lifting a finger. But the fact that his tail worked as a third hand only made Cato think that he could do more work at once.

Finnick had to go out that night. His cousin had gotten married and he had been invited to the reception. Which left Peeta and Cato alone in the Institute.

Peeta went to bed extremely early, probably because of his lack of experience with early hours, and was asleep by 11:00pm. As an expert, Cato could go to bed at 3:00am and get up at 6:30 without complaint. He didn't blame Peeta for going early though, he was still a rookie, after all.

Something fantastic happened that night, however.

To keep an eye on him and nothing more, Cato had the computer open on Peeta cam, glancing at the screen every so often to check that he was okay. He shouldn't have cared whether he was okay or not, he knew that, but a part of him couldn't help it. In a totally platonic way.

Peeta did move around an awful lot in his sleep, Cato soon learned, as if he couldn't get comfortable in one position for too long. Especially on his back, because it seemed to crush his tail against the mattress which, even though he didn't have a tail himself, Cato supposed was quite painful. The longest he slept was on his stomach so the appendage with the mind of its own was able to move freely without restraint.

Cato barely got any work done. He was too concerned with his abstract job of playing guardian for the Institute Cat. Everything about the boy captured his attention. Peeta's eyes fluttered sometimes when he slept, his long eyelashes casting thin shadows on his cheekbones. His claws would come out occasionally, digging into the mattress and clutching the material hard. His plump lips were always parted, letting those long, pleasant purrs escape. He didn't wear his beanie in bed and he couldn't stop his hair from exposing his kitten ears while he was sleeping. Cato's hand twitched, sub consciously wishing he could stroke the delicate hearing aids again.

At around 12:40am, Peeta's tail fluttered down and rested on his head, where it slowly rubbed that spot between his ears. Peeta's purrs got louder, his ears twitching and flattening themselves against his head. His hips lifted a little bit, his back arching into the mattress. Cato quirked an eyebrow in interest, was this a neko's way of touching themselves?

But then it got better.

Cato had just turned his attention back to the appointment book when Peeta mumbled breathily into his pillow, "Yes, Cato, don't stop."

Turning back around in alarm, Cato's eyes widened in surprise. Nothing had changed. The tail was still caressing his head. The only difference had been those words. Peeta had said his name. Shouldn't he have been saying Finnick's?

Feeling a little smug, Cato grinned and got back to work. Somehow, that had made his day. The simple idea that Peeta dreamed of him stroking between his ears instead of Finnick. Which was kind of harsh, since they were best friends and they were falling out over one guy. A guy Cato didn't even want.

He came to the conclusion that Peeta's tail did have a mind of its own. Seriously, the thing had to be alive. It scratched between his ears, caressed his back while he slept, at one point it even brushed the hair from his face. Either Peeta could concentrate on his movements really well in his sleep or that thing was alive. And the latter seemed most likely.

Cato switched the computer off and rested his chin in his hand. What was happening to him?

A/N: So Finnick and Peeta are in a slightly dysfunctional relationship and Cato's in denial. Here's the summary for book three!

"When a client dumps a confident handsy pervert into the institute who seems to have a strange fondness for cats, Cato finds the true meaning of being possessive. Peeta isn't helping much either."

Please R&R! :D