Author's Note: Just a fluffy little story that popped into my head. Not entirely happy with it, but enjoy anyway! :)

I pace up the steps to Victor's Village, the game bag bumping against my leg. Peeta has a fever, and with his immune system so weak, I don't want him to come all the way over to my house to pick up the squirrel I had hunted. So here I am, making a home delivery.

I knock on the door to Peeta's house. There is no answer. I knock again, this time pounding my fist into the wooden door. Still no answer. Sighing, I call, "Peeta!" No answer.

Now I'm getting paranoid. What if Peeta's fever is causing him to have an attack? What if he's in the kitchen? I think of all the knives and stoves there. I need to get inside, right now.

I feel my pockets and groan. I had left the keys to his house at my house. There is no time to run and get it.

I jam my shoulder into the door, and to my surprise, it opens. Huh. It must've been unlocked, just jammed. Doesn't explain why Peeta didn't come to answer the door, though.

"Peeta?" I call. "Peeta!"

I run into the kitchen. Empty. Calling his name, I run to every room downstairs. Still nothing. I am seriously on the brim of a panic attack. I race up the stairs to his room. What if he's in the bathroom, drowning in his bathtub? My heart skips a beat. "PEETA!" I reach the door to his room and fling it open.

Peeta stands before me, stark naked.

A sound like a drowning cat leaves my throat. I turn on my heels, my cheeks burning up. "Oh!"

"Katniss!" he says, "What are you doing here?"

"I came to give you a squirrel!"

"But I usually pick it up at your place."

"You have a cold," I say, "I didn't want you to come all the way to my house."

Peeta is quiet for a moment. "Thank you, Katniss. That…that means a lot to me."

"Whatever," I say, uncomfortable with his words. I change the topic. "Why are you…you know…"

"Naked?" he says, sounding amused, "It's not a bad word, you know."

I scowl. "Whatever. Answer the question."

"I just came out of the shower."

"Why didn't you answer when I called you?" I say, my voice trembling slightly, "I was so worried…"

"Oh, Katniss," he says, his voice sounding alarmingly closer. Before I know it, he has his arms wrapped around me. I shriek, pulling out of his grasp.

"Wh-what's wrong?" Peeta says from behind me, sounding startled.

"You can't just hug me like that!" I exclaim.

"Why ever not?" He asks, perplexed.

"You…you're…" I stammer.

"Naked?" His voice is amused again. "Oh, Katniss, you're so chaste."

I want so bad to glare at him, but that would mean me turning around. So I cross my arms, and insert as much venom into my voice when I say, "Guess I shouldn't have bothered to come over."

The change in his voice is immediate. "No, I'm sorry. I don't mean it; I'm just teasing."

Before I can retort, he lets out a painful moan. Against my better judgement, I wheel around. Peeta is hunched over, his hands rammed into the side of his head. He lets out another moan, beads of sweat appearing on his forehead.

I rush to his side, whispering soothing words to him. "It's okay, it's alright, I'm here…"

"I'm alright," Peeta finally says, "Just had a little…blackout."

My eyebrows draw together. "Blackout? Do you need anything? Medicine? Water?"

Peeta gives a little laugh. "Katniss, don't worry, I'm fine. There is something you can do, though."

"What?"

Peeta takes my hand. "Stay with me. Just…for a little bit."

I should be getting home, but I oblige. But now that I know he's okay, I have to force my eyes to stay on his face.

Don't look down, don't look down, don't look—

I look down.

Peeta's manhood stands before me in all its glory. A small sound escapes my lips. I immediately look away, blushing furiously.

Peeta doubles over in laughter. I glare at him, and he responds by thrusting provocatively. I shove him with all my strength.

"You're such a jerk!" I yell.

"A sexy one," he responds seductively.

A man with sea green eyes is currently taking over my thoughts. That, combined with my embarrassment, causes me to shove Peeta one last time before booking it. I sprint out of the room, down the stairs, and out of the house, with Peeta's laugh following behind me. I'm seriously starting to regret delivering the squirrel to him.

One thing is clear, though: I will never look at Peeta the same way again.