Fix My Eyes - Bean Boots Christmas Outtake

Katniss visits her long-distance boyfriend in District 13 after Christmas. They weren't supposed to exchange gifts but Peeta couldn't resist finding her something preppy—and practical.

Katniss

As my plane glides down beneath the clouds, I'm shocked by how much snow is on the ground. After a few years on the coast, it's been easy to forget just how much of it there is in the winter Up North. I look over to the sea of traffic approaching and receding from the airport. Peeta is out there somewhere, headed to pick me up this afternoon.

This is my second visit to see Peeta. My first visit was a blur of beautiful countryside and sex. Peeta had taken us out to fish in a lake near his town, redeeming himself with several catches compared to his performance on the bay. Every time we left his apartment for touristy stuff, we found ourselves sneaking away for some privacy, so we eventually gave up and stayed in his apartment. He's even come back to District 4 to stay with me for a long weekend the other month.

After the awkward pauses of the early visits since we'd met last summer had subsided, we have grown from the initial connection into something more substantial. We keep finding unconventional places to reacquaint our bodies, his truck, the boathouse, and the woods. We text throughout the week and call each other when we can, trying to make this long distance thing work. It's been good to balance this relationship from the shaky foundation on the boat to the firm ground I've landed on in District 13. The distance allowed for us to talk through the deep stuff, like favorite colors. I remind myself often that I first saw him as a catch-and-release, but he feels more like a keeper now. I never saw myself as a long distance relationship person but Peeta inspires me to work for it. It seems to suit my nature and allows me to focus on work at home.

The flight attendant calls for us to retrieve our luggage from the overhead compartments and then it's a race to get to Peeta. I text him to let him know I've landed while I shuffle through the crowds.

It's colder than I thought it would be once outside at passenger pick up. There's no humid air to absorb the cold. I didn't pack bulky outer layers since I had actually planned on spending most of my visit tangled in Peeta's plaid flannel sheets.

I spot Peeta's truck and move towards it. His head pops out of the driver's side, those blond curls tucked up under a dark beanie. We wave as I make my way to him.

He clutches me to him and kisses me, his lips warming me from the inside. It's been too long.

"Hey, you're shivering," he says, his nose rubbing against mine.

"Kiss me again and it'll stop!" I huff and he obeys. I open my mouth to him to allow for a proper greeting in below freezing temperatures. His tongue is a welcome hot coal in my mouth, stroking the fire in me back to life.

"I think I'm wearing nearly every layer I brought but my toes are freezing," I note as we buckle up for the short drive to his apartment.

"I might have an old down jacket you can wear while you're here. A cold front blew through this morning and it's much colder than when I left my parents' home," he says.

"And how did that go?" I ask.

"About what I expected. Rye drank too much, mom complained too much, while dad and Bran stayed quiet," he relays. "How was Prim?"

"Good, school is good for her, it was nice for it to be just the two of us for the holiday since mom was working," I say, my mind wandering back to the few days with Prim.

"Did she like her gift?" he asks.

"Yes, she allowed me to get her a present this year," I add for emphasis. "None of this 'no-gift' Christmas," I say in mild frustration.

"Katniss….," he starts and reaches over to wrap an arm around me, "All I want is you. Just...time with each other for the holiday anyway," he finishes.

I had halfway considered using his brothers' contact numbers that had been provided last summer for gift ideas but quickly dismissed that idea for sheer awkwardness. So instead, I bought my ticket to fly up here directly after Christmas with Prim in District 4, empty-handed.

I barely register that his Charlie Brown Christmas tree survived the last three days while he was at his family's home as we rush to undress once inside his apartment.

After a round of I've-missed-you-sex all over his bed, we rest. We'll have time to be more creative later. I've just about caught my breath when he gets out of bed and digs something out of his closet.

Peeta approaches cautiously me with a large box wrapped in gorgeous paper.

"Surprise!" he says with a sheepish grin.

"Peeta! We promised! You know I didn't bring you a gift!" I protest.

"I know, I know, but I think you'll need this for your visit and they're your favorite color. Consider it an early birthday present instead," he offers, knowing that's more than five months away.

"I'll just have to owe you. I'll never stop owing you," I mumble. I open the box with reluctance, prying the folds of the paper apart one by one.

My slow pace of opening the gift is ironic compared to the frenzy earlier. It's mostly to antagonize him, for getting me a gift when I have none to offer him. Peeling away the last of the tape, I lift the lid to reveal a pair of hunter green duck boots with tumbled leather uppers. I gasp, "Peeta!"

"Do you like them?" he asks. "I know we made a joke of it that first time on the boat, if you needed Bean or Hunter boots to wear up here but these are more useful anyway," he says pointedly.

I nod along and admire the hand stitching more closely.

"You also didn't bring proper footwear to insulate against the snow and cold on this trip so, in essence, you'll die without these," he rationalizes in mock seriousness.

He catches my scowl for that logic before I return my attention to my new boots.

"Besides, these will also do better than your regular waders for any cold days in the coastal woods—that's why I didn't get you the shearling lined pair," he theorizes.

I nod along and plot in my mind what I could possibly do to show him how much I appreciate the thoughtfulness of his gift. I'm lost in thought when he taps my shoulder.

"Hey, it could be worse. Rye told me to cut a hole in a box…." Peeta laughs, only he's probably not joking, I'm sure Rye reminded him of all three steps.

"Finnick is just as bad as Rye then, he told me to remember to pack my plastics," I recount, turning to face him. Peeta blushes ear to ear, since we've long since stopped used condoms. Really since my first visit when we shared our clean tests and committed to this relationship.

"He did help me with your boot size, at least. He checked your waders for me when you weren't looking," he says.

"Well, I promise to think of a way to make it up to you," I say.

"I just want to see you in them, see you enjoy them while you're here and then back at home," he hints and offers to start a fire.

We agree to disagree for the time being and prepare dinner together. While we eat I listen for clues about where I could take him to buy a gift, but he has everything tangible he wants. I take note of the way he's made his apartment a home with the details so intrinsically him. Somewhere near the last delicious bite of steak, I've figured it out. I've concocted a way to repay this surprise gift debt, and give him a real, unforgettable memory.

We finish our meal and Peeta takes the dishes to his sink. I excuse myself while Peeta finishes up in the kitchen.

Peeta

"So I thought maybe we'd try ice skating tomorrow," I call to her from the kitchen. "It's been a few years for me, but I might be able to manage, with you there to steady me." I look up from the sink to find her leaning against the bedroom door.

Katniss has emerged in his one of my tartan flannel shirts and her new boots, laced and halfway up her toned calves, the green rubber and tan leather illuminated by the twinkling lights on the tree and fireglow.

My heart stops and I nearly drop the plates. She's beautiful every single day, though something about this particular ensemble is my favorite. She's even loosened her braid, so that the raven strands are kinked at the ends. My eyes linger over her form long enough to observe that there's nothing underneath my shirt.

"Merry Christmas Peeta, I love my boots," she says while reaching down to trace the leather edge against her flesh.

I rush over to wrap my hands around her rib cage and lift her up, crushing my lips to hers as she wraps her legs around my waist. Our lips remain locked as my palms skim her olive thighs, still holding their summer color. The rubber heels of her boots dig into the small of my back to hold her tight to me.

"Merry Christmas Katniss," I manage between kisses.

I carry her to the braided rug between the tree and the fire, stretching her out of the soft wool. I find a pillow and toss it down for her head. I rejoin her for more kisses, deep kisses, light kisses, whisper kisses, and bruising kisses. I can't kiss her enough to show her how much I appreciate her ingenuity and my surprise. My kisses that have started on her cheeks and lips travel down to her throat, reaching the collar of my shirt. I start unbuttoning it, kissing each new inch of exposed flesh. I claim each of her breasts with my mouth and palms. I flick my tongue out on her nipples and she arches her back. I clamp my palms down on her writhing body beneath me.

I continue blazing a trail down to the last button to reveal her navel. I rise up and remove my own shirt, desperate to feel her skin slide against mine. I hitch her legs over my shoulders, the boots landing with a resounding thud on my upper back. I inhale her sex. I lick her outer folds until she's trembling, begging me for more. I massage her clit with the tip of my tongue before sucking on it without regard to the noises either one of us are making. I lean on one arm to explore her folds with my other hand, stroking and pulsing my fingers where she's waiting for me. She tilts her pelvis toward me eagerly but I'm not done yet. I send two fingers inside her to match the rhythm I've set on the outside with my mouth. Her keens reach my ears right as she tugs on my hair, and I know she's on the edge. I curl the tips of my fingers deep inside and latch onto her clit to overload her senses. Her body reacts immediately, tensing and spasming all around me. I hold on tight to let her ride out the rest of her orgasm. When her hips lay completely still, she brings her palm to her forehead.

"Damn," she mutters.

I cock my head to the side to catch her line of sight, "Is something wrong?"

"No...this well, this was supposed to be a present for you," she explains. "And that felt pretty damn spectacular for me."

"Oh...it is. I'm having my way with my girlfriend," I return.

"Well you would have had that anyway," she teases.

"But now I have the marks to remember it by," I say and motion my thumb to her boot scratches down my back.

"Well c'mere then, let's make some more," she says,

I unbutton my waistband and she uses her boots to scrape my pants down my legs. She stops just short of my knee to gently pull my jeans further down my legs, careful not to hang up any material on it.

Once free of my trappings, I advance upon her. I've been hard since she appeared in the doorway, her moans only intensifying my want for her. I sink into her waiting heat, finding my home. She hooks her legs around my waist again, with the heel of her boots spurring me on. I bury my nose into the curve of her neck, vaguely noting that my shirt now smells like her as I move in and out of her.

Every bit of me is anchored to her, from her nails clawing into my shoulders, her heels on my ass, and her inner walls gripping my cock. I try to slow down, so that we can both feel every pass, but she only grips me harder to return my body into hers. Our hips move in sync, my cock grazing her clit as I pull out and then plummet again into her tight pussy in one fluid motion.

"Peeta, I'm coming again," she calls and I can feel her quaking around me, her feet stuttering to the floor. I pull all the way out and thrust back into her iron grip, every bit of me constricted by her walls until I let go too in a muffled groan against her throat. I slump to the floor next to her to catch my breath.

I drag a blanket down from the couch to toss over us as our hearts slow from the pounding beats to a calming lub dub.

"I'll wear my boots every damn day if you'll fuck me like that," she says.

"So it's really a gift for the both of us," I spin, still trying to get her to accept this gift without any strings, "but you're welcome to try on more of my clothes. I can point you towards a fair isle sweater or two…."

the end

Author's Note:

I started out wanting to write holiday outtakes for several fics though this is the one that flowed the most. Many thanks to Areyouserial for plotting support, Notanislander for preppy knowledge and inspirational posts, Papofglencoe for editing powers, and Suzanne Collins for her characters. Honorable mention to L.L. Bean products.