"Does that feel good?" Peeta asks as he shifts his weight and begins rubbing a place between my legs. I nod up at him. "Yes," I say. He moves in a rhythmic motion that he matches his fingers in time with. Above me, he smiles down shyly when his blue eyes meet mine.

"Do you think you might... you know?" he asks.

"I don't know," I frown. "Can you..." I drop my eyes pointedly to my chest. Peeta understands what I'm hinting at, and moves to take a breast in his hand, kneading it in just the way he knows I like. My eyes float closed of their own accord, and I let a long breath out through my nose, smiling just a little.

"Katniss." My eyes snap open, and I see that telling look on his face. The one that says he's about to... finish. I nod, and he gives a few more jagged thrusts before I feel the tell-tale sign of him twitching inside me. He tenses and lets go, allowing his body to rest on mine for a minute while he composes himself.

When he does, he turns his head and gives me a kiss, stroking my hair back gently with his hand. "How did that feel?" he asks me.

"It felt good," I say.

His eyes glance down to my nether regions. "Do you think you might be able to... you know. Finish this time? If we keep going?"

I shrug. "It's worth a try, I guess."

Peeta nods, and his hand dips back down between my legs, working on the same spot he had previously. And it feels good, I can't lie. But... I don't seem able to reach that same peak that seems so easy for him.

"It's okay, Peeta," I tell him finally. He looks into my eyes, concerned. "Are you sure?" he asks.

"I'm sure," I nod. "It felt good. Really."

"But not enough to get you there."

"I don't mind," I say. He doesn't look convinced, but he settles onto his back, pulling me over with him. I lay my head down on his chest while he softly strokes my hair. "But it does feel good, right? I'm not hurting you, am I?" he asks.

"No," I smile. "It feels great." He grins at this, and I feel the tension in his hand relax a little as he rakes his through my hair. After a moment, I lean up on my arm; give him a kiss. "I'll be right back," I tell him.

He frowns in mock disappointment. "Leaving so soon? Do you have to?"

"According to my mother, I do. And thanks for reminding me of that conversation," I say as I push back the covers and swing my legs over the side of the bed to stand. A part of me is tempted to cover, but what for? Peeta has seen it all at this point.

I hear him laughing from behind me. "She's just looking after you, you know," he says.

Of course I know. But that didn't make the conversation any less awkward the day she decided to give me tips on practicing safe sex. One of those tips included the instruction to make sure I use the bathroom after each time, in order to avoid something called a UTI. I cringed at the time, more embarrassed than I think I had ever felt in my life that she was having this conversation with me. The funny part about it was that Peeta and I hadn't even done anything yet. My mother just assumed when I told her we were growing back together again that we were having sex.

I suppose it was inevitable when we eventually did. And, as painfully embarrassing as it was to acknowledge my mother's instincts weren't all that off about us, I took her advice to heart.

I don't bother turning on the light as I enter the darkened bathroom, since I can practically find my way around it blind by now. I reach where I know the toilet should be, and lower myself down. To my complete surprise, I find myself falling where the seat should be, and land in the cold puddle of water in the toilet bowl.

"Peeta!" I shout. I can hear him laughing from the bedroom. "It's not funny!" I shoot back quickly as I pick myself up, reaching around in the dark for a towel to dry myself off with. After I find one, I finish the task I went in there for in the first place, then march back into the bedroom, where Peeta fails to hide a grin at the sight of me.

"Why didn't you put the toilet seat down?" I demand.

"Sorry, Katniss," he laughs. "I forgot."

"You forgot?" I scowl at him.

He shrugs at me. "I grew up in a house with three boys, remember? I'm not used to living with a girl."

I sigh, picking up the blanket and scooting in next to him. "Move over," I tell him, and he obeys. "It wasn't funny," I repeat.

"Okay," he says, though I can still hear the laughter in his voice. He kisses my shoulder. "I'm sorry for laughing. And for leaving the toilet seat up. Will you forgive me?"

"No," I say. But he just laughs, and buries his face in my neck, kissing it in places where he knows I'm ticklish until I'm laughing, too. He tugs on me, urging me to turn over so that I face him. Then he wraps his arms around me and kisses me. "I love you," he says.

I smile at him, tracing the outline of his jaw with my fingers. He looks at me, grinning a little and his eyebrows raised. He thinks I'm not going to say it.

"I love you, too," I tell him.

He just smiles at me. Then he reaches his arm behind him; turns off the light. "G'night," he says, pressing a kiss to my forehead. I grin, even though I know he can't see me, then settle down into the comforting warmth of his arms and slip off into sleep.

"Where did you put the frying pan?" I ask as I open one door after another in search of it.

"Bottom cabinet on the left," Peeta responds. I frown as I bend over to retrieve it. "Why'd you put it there?" I ask.

Peeta shrugs. "That's where it fit."

"It goes over here," I tell him, motioning to the cabinet across the way. "Why would you put it there?"

"I told you. That's where it fit. And that's where I put it in my house."

"Well, I keep it here," I say as I put it back in its proper spot. Then I pull it back out, because I remember I was originally supposed to cook with it.

"Okay," Peeta says, a mixture of amusement and exasperation on his face.

We sit down to dinner some time later, a meal of dandelion salad and fried groosling. We're quiet as we pick at the food on our plates, but it's a comfortable kind of quiet. Peeta asks me a few questions about my day, but keeps it at a minimum because he knows I hate small talk. Finally, as he's scooping up the last bits of groosling onto his fork, he glances up to me.

"I talked to Dr. Aurelius today," he says.

I raise my eyebrows at him. "How'd it go?" I ask.

He shrugs, looking indifferent. "Okay, I guess."

"What'd you talk about?" I ask.

Peeta shrugs. "A lot of things. Nothing big," he glances up at me. I nod, and take a drink of my water. "Did you tell him about your episode last week?" I ask.

"Yeah," he says, looking down at his plate.

"And?"

"And the usual," he says. "Told me to keep taking my medicine, to keep holding on to something to tether me to reality until they end." I nod. There isn't really much more they can do for him, but each time neither of us can help hoping a break through was found for him. But I guess it doesn't matter, because even despite the hijacking, Peeta and I have grown back together.

We try again that night. Being with Peeta is wonderful in a way I was never able to imagine until I actually experienced it myself. Growing up in the Seam, I never had time to think about sex. No, that's not true - I never wanted to think about sex. I didn't want to have it with anyone, ever, just like I didn't want to fall in love or get married. Or have children. Only one of those is still true today.

But I was not like the other kids, who whispered rumors in school over who was sleeping with who. I never understood it; why anyone would want to risk putting themselves at the mercy of the reaping over something as foolish as sex. Only now I'm having it myself, with Peeta. And at last I understand. Even if I'm not finishing.

Which I still don't tonight.

I'm curled up with him after, still naked, our patchwork skin blending together as we hold each other. "Maybe I'm just not meant to," I say.

"You're meant to," he tells me. "We all are."

"But maybe I'm not," I insist. "If I can't do it. Maybe it's not important. It still feels good."

Peeta studies me for a minute. "Katniss... don't get mad, but I talked to Dr. Aurelius about this today..."

"What?" I bolt up and turn to look at him. Surely he has to be joking, right?

Peeta sighs. "I didn't mean to. It was when he was talking to me about my episode. He asked me if we were... you know... sexually active."

"And you told him we were?" I ask in disbelief.

"I had to, Katniss. I have to tell him anything that could potentially set me off emotionally. And sex with you... well, you know I love it more than anything, ever. But if we were to do it on the wrong night, or we were to do something that were to set off something in my mind..."

"So you're saying it's dangerous to be with me."

"Yeah," he says simply. "And I'm saying I love you even more than you are a risk to me. That's why I need to learn how to control this."

I bury my face in my arms and let out a loud sigh. "So what did Dr. Aurelius say?" I ask.

"Well... he said that if you're having trouble... getting to the end... then maybe you should try practicing on your own."

"What?" I look at him in shock.

Peeta shrugs. "He says maybe doing it alone would take some of the pressure off you. You can figure out how you like it, and then..." he gulps. "And then show me."

"I can't believe you had this conversation with him," I snarl, and flop down on the bed with my back turned towards him, tugging my share of the blanket around me. I'm so utterly mortified at the thought of Peeta discussing me like that with someone else that I barely want to sleep in the same bed as him, let alone look at him. Maybe I'll even go sleep in one of the other rooms. Or better yet, make him go back to his house.

"Don't be mad, Katniss," he pleads with me. "Please, just... consider it?"

"What does it matter to you, anyway, if I finish during sex or not?"

"Everything," he says. "Katniss, don't you get it? That's what I'm trying to do when we're together. It means nothing to me if I'm the only one getting off. I can do that by myself!"

I'm quiet as I think this over. "Have you?" I finally ask.

"Have I what?"

"What you said," I respond. "Have you... ever done it yourself?"

"Well, yeah," he admits. "Most guys have, Katniss. Probably most people, really. It's not that big of a deal. It's okay to be comfortable with your sexuality."

I don't answer this. "Go to sleep," I tell him after a minute. He lets out a sigh, flips the light off and settles in beside me.

He wakes me early the next morning as he rises to go to the bakery. Despite how I acted last night, he still kisses me goodbye before he leaves for the day, heading to his house three doors down, where he's started operating from his kitchen. Since he practically lives over here now, he has no real use for it otherwise.

Following his lead, I get up and pull on some pants and a shirt, and then my hunting boots. I reach for my father's old hunting jacket and pull that on, too. Heading downstairs, I grab my bow and quiver and set off for the woods.

My morning is fairly successful. I catch three squirrels and a couple of rabbits, stuffing them into my game sack before heading home. Peeta and I will have them for dinner tonight. When I get back, I clean them off and set them aside, not ready to start cooking yet.

And then... I have nothing else to do. Peeta won't be home for another few hours. I try to find other ways to fill my idle time, dusting the living room, organizing the books in the library. But eventually I run out of things to do, and find myself sitting with nothing to do in the living room.

In the silence, it's hard not to let my mind drift back to my conversation with Peeta last night. To say I'm still embarrassed by the whole thing would be an understatement. And yet...

And yet, I find myself dwelling on the point Peeta made. That there's nothing wrong with being comfortable with myself sexually. Sure, I have sex with him, but what does that really mean? Am I allowing myself to fully enjoy it? Maybe there really is more to it, like he said.

Very cautiously, my hand begins to drift towards the waistband of my pants. I hesitate for a long minute. Then, I fight back my reservations, and let my hand slip underneath. I touch myself for the first time. It feels nice, but not really any better than when Peeta does it. I can't help wondering if this is really going to get me anywhere.

I keep rubbing myself for several minutes, but eventually it becomes clear nothing is going to happen. So I withdraw my hand, feeling slightly silly for doing it at all, and decide I won't ever do it again.

I'm wrong.

I try again several times over the course of a week, always when Peeta is not around. I don't know why, but I don't want him knowing that I'm doing it. It just seems so... I don't know. But I don't want him knowing. I'm surprised, however, when eventually it does start to feel better. I'm able to forget everything when I'm by myself, and just let go.

One day, I'm alone in the living room trying again, when I feel my toes curl involuntarily. Encouraged, I keep going. Maybe this is finally it, I think. I rub, noting the spots that feel particularly right. At last, my body siezes up, and then a feeling of relief unlike any I've ever felt before washes over me.

I hear the front door open and the sound of a very familiar tread, and know Peeta is home. I zip my pants up quickly, but don't move. Peeta enters the room and glances at me, but I can tell he doesn't really look at me. If he did,he would know what had happened in a minute.

Instead, he walks over the table and begins to set down the load of packages he has in his arms. "Train came in today," he says. "I stopped over at Haymitch's and dropped his liquor order off."

"How'd it go?" I ask.

He lets out a long breath. "It went okay... he's managing to not live completely in squalor right now..." Something about the expression on his face tells me there's more.

"What is it?" I ask him.

Peeta is quiet. Then, he rustles through one of the packages before he holds a box out facing me. I have to squint to make out from where I am what it says, but finally I'm able to read what it says.

Condoms.

"He saw it," Peeta says.

Ugh. The last thing I need is for Haymitch to know what Peeta and I have started doing. Even if he suspected it, it was better if he didn't know for sure.

"So he knows?" I say.

Peeta nods. "It fell out of one of the bags when I was trying not to lose my balance. Haymitch has so many piles of things scattered all over his home. But he saw it before I had a chance to pick it up." Peeta continues moving through the packages, carefully organizing the things we ordered into their appropriate boxes.

"What'd he say?"

"You don't want to know."

"What was it?" Now I'm really curious.

Peeta sighs. "He said... 'Finally convinced her to let you fuck her, huh, kid?" he says in his best Haymitch impression. I should be mortified. But it's so spot on, and so clear Peeta is embarrassed by the whole thing, and maybe I'm still in a good mood after finally orgasming that I can't help it - I laugh.

"You're laughing? That's not the reaction I expecte-" Peeta turns around and stops as he finally gets a good look at me. "Why are you lying down?" he asks. "And... why are you smiling like that?"

I can feel the grin growing wider across my face. "Because, Peeta, I... I did it." I confess.

"Did what?"

I give him a pointed look, and then his eyes widen as realization dawns on him. "Oh! You... you did? How?"

It's my turn to feel a little flustered, and my cheeks grow warm. "I... took your advice."

"You touched yourself?" I nod. Peeta looks thoughtful for a minute. "You touched yourself? And you came." He begins moving slowly over to me. "How did it feel?"

My grin comes back. "Wonderful."

"Show me," he says.

I look at him, not sure I heard him right. "What?" I ask.

"Show me, Katniss. I... I want to see it."

I frown at him, sure he's kidding. But when he doesn't start laughing a minute later, I know he's serious. I want to yell at him, tell him to stop being so ridiculous. But for some reason, I don't. Instead, the look on his face encourages me. So, after a minute of staring hard at him, I grudgingly unzip my pants.

He moves - really, more like glides over to the couch and sits down, mesmerized, his eyes glued on me. And even though we've been together dozens of times by now, something about this feels dirty on a whole new level.

I cautiously dip my hand down my pants, slipping them underneath my underwear, but Peeta shakes his head in disapproval. "Take them off," he says. I look at him, but he just nods in encouragement, his eyes still glued to the spot. So I lift my hips up and tug them both down at once.

The corners of Peeta's mouth twitch up, and I can see him swallow as he gives a slow nod. My hand returns to its trail, and I stick my finger in between my folds; find that sensitive nub.

I begin to rub it in the way that felt so good before. But Peeta watching is making me feel so self-conscious that it's distracting me. Determined to do this for him, however, I close my eyes and try to convince myself he's not there. And it works. I lose myself, even begin to let out little noises as I buck my hips upwards at the feeling. Pausing only to dip my fingers down into the wetness pooling at my entrance before returning to work.

When I hear the sound of something unzipping, I peek an eye open and am shocked when I see Peeta's taken himself out of his pants, and has slowly began stroking the shaft of his penis as he watches. "What are you doing?" I ask in shock.

He looks at me like it's the most obvious thing in the world. And really, I guess it is. "Do you have any idea how hot this is to watch, Katniss?" he asks. My eyes move from his erection to his eyes, and he smiles at me. "Just keep going. It'll be worth it, I promise."

I don't want to believe it, but I trust Peeta. It takes a moment for me to feel comfortable again, but eventually my hand resumes its patterns. At first, I'm afraid that having him there, watching me as he works on himself, will ruin the mood for me completely. I keep my eyes dutifully pressed shut, concentrating only on the feel of my hand as I rub my clitoris.

But then I hear him let out a groan. And I can't help looking.

Peeta is working his hand furiously up and down the length of his penis, his eyes half-closed, his mouth hanging open. His body is tense, and a few more small moans escape his lips.

And suddenly, my lower half is on fire.

I don't close my eyes again. I don't need to. What was distracting to me a few minutes ago is now igniting a flame that's threatening to consume my entire body. I lift off the couch as I let out a strangled cry, my pace quickening at the sight of him. Peeta does the same, thrusting his hips forward as he strokes himself furiously.

Just when I'm beginning to feel that same tension in my body that tells me I'm almost there, I'm surprised when Peeta is suddenly on top of me, his hand stilling my arm. "I want to do it," he smiles wickedly.

His fingers replace mine down there. First he wets them by tracing along my entrance, teasing me into torment until I'm whimpering. Then, he sticks one inside, dragging it along my inner walls slowly. He looks up at me as he does so, gauging my reaction.

"Do you like this?" he asks. I nod eagerly.

Peeta shifts himself so that he's on top of me. Then he begins rubbing my clit, repeating the same actions he watched me do. He angles his head so that his lips are against my ear, which brush against them as he whispers, "I'm going to learn everything about your body, Katniss. I want to know everything you like; every way to make you come. I'm going to find them all." I arch my back into him with a moan. He catches me; pins my arms above me and pulls off my shirt.

Then, Peeta stops his actions, leaving me feeling wholly unsatisfied. I look at him, wanting to know what on earth he's doing that would make him stop. But Peeta sits up straight, pulls off his own shirt. Then he stands and yanks down his pants, kicking them off to the side. He walks briskly to the forgotten packages, picking up the box of condoms and literally tearing them apart until he has one free, rolling it onto him, before he returns and sits back down on the couch. "Come here, Katniss," he says in a husky voice.

A little curious, but mostly aching for more of him, I crawl over, and he pulls me onto his lap so that I'm sitting facing him. I'm on my knees, but I can feel him hard against my thigh. He reaches underneath me, and pulls his penis up and begins rubbing my clit with the head of it. As he does so, he takes one of my breasts in his mouth and begins to suck on the nipple.

I'm losing it at this point. Something inside me becomes unhinged, and I grind against him as hard as possible, no longer even trying to keep the moans I'm letting out quiet. I reach down between us and, as he continues teasing my clit with the tip of his penis, take the shaft of it and begin running my hand up and down it.

Peeta's eyes roll back in head head at the feeling, and he lets out an especially loud groan. I smile down at him, and continue my motions, gradually building up speed until his own hand stills, his head fallen backwards so that it rests on the back of the couch. Then he stops me, picking his head up and looking me straight in the eyes, his look tense. He reaches down, takes his penis out of my hand, and repositions it at my entrance.

Without waiting for his instruction, I sink down onto it, the feeling of him filling me up appeasing an ache I hadn't even realized I was feeling until it was satiated. Using my legs for leverage, I begin to rise and fall on him, moving faster and faster the more used to the position I become. Peeta grabs my chin and roughly moves my mouth to his for a kiss.

We break apart as he lets out an especially loud groan. His eyelids are heaving , his eyes dark as he gazes up at me from beyond those long lashes of his. "Katniss," he whines, "Katniss, tell me it was me. Tell me it was always my hard cock that you wanted inside you."

"It was always you, Peeta," I manage to get out. "It was always going to be you." My head rolls back as I let out a gasp.

"I don't even care if you're lying," Peeta says as his fingers go back and begin working on me again. "Just come for me, Katniss. Show me what it looks like when you come."

I nod, and surrender myself completely to the feel of him moving in me, our thighs slapping together when they meet with each thrust, and his fingers rubbing wildly on my clit. Finally, I feel that tensing. I breath in sharply; then, as I release I let out a cry so loud that I'm sure Haymitch must be able to hear it all the way in his house.

I collapse against Peeta, my limbs feeling heavy and loose. He comes a minute later, and then we sit, panting hard, trying to regain our composure. Then I feel Peeta's lips pressed against mine as he wraps his arms around my middle.

"That was amazing," he says.

My head is curled against the crook of his neck, and I smile up at him. "I guess I see what the big deal is all about, now," I admit. He laughs, and rakes his fingers through my hair.

"It wasn't a lie, Peeta," I tell him after a minute. He draws his head away and looks down at me curiously. I reach my hand up, and stroke his face with it. I've known this for a while, but Peeta deserves to know the truth. "What you wanted me to say," I tell him. "It was going to happen anyway. It was always you."

His face lights up, and he leans in to kiss me deeply. I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him into me. When we break apart, he's still smiling. "I love you," he says.

"I love you, too," I tell him.

"And that was really hot. Can you just think of all the other things we could do together like that?"

I laugh for some reason, and shake my head. "Not really," I admit. He laughs a little, too. "Don't worry," he tells me, "we'll figure them out together. Maybe we can even find new ways to scar Haymitch with this." I laugh harder this time.

But Peeta is right. The floodgates have opened for us, and from now on we can barely keep our hands off each other, exploring each other in every way imaginable, in every location imaginable.