In a Coat Closet (Finally)
For anyone who ever wanted Katniss and Peeta to get it on in a coat closet, here you go!
(Katniss POV)
Peeta’s wandering hands trail down my back lightly, but oh so expertly. He knows me bringing him lunch was just an excuse. It's been like this with us for weeks now. I find reasons to wander over to his house. He finds reasons to touch me.
“Got it.” He says proudly holding up a stray leaf that must have gotten snagged on the back of my sweater. I think he’ll lean in to kiss the side of my neck, or maybe just pull me against him, but no. He moves away. I frown in irritation for a second.
“So that was the culprit?” I ask him with raised eyebrows. I guess he wants to play a little bit longer today. He nods, but I don’t think he’s paying full attention anymore to my words. His eyes are on my lips. Those blue eyes track my movements in a fascinated way and the attention, though a little unnerving, is also exciting.
I always wonder what excuse he’ll use. As if either of us needs an excuse to touch the other after all that’s happened since the night I climbed into his window. Still, it's like a little game. One that hasn’t gotten old between us yet.
I sigh, realizing the ball is in my court now. I look him over, trying to think of something.
He looks beautiful, in that way that is so uniquely Peeta. That burnished gold hair shining in the afternoon light that filters in from between the curtains. The placid looking blue of his eyes that suggests calm waters but when you get too close actually pull you in faster than a riptide. His skin, paler than my own, but not without its appeal. I imagine the freckles...tiny ones, lots of them spread over his shoulders and my mouth gets a little watery.
Focus. I tell myself. And I can see that he’s caught me ogling him. He’s smiling at me in a very pleased way. It just makes me flush, embarrassed, and grit my teeth in annoyance. I roll my eyes at him, not wanting him to know just how much he affects me.
His small laugh resonates through the room, and my body.
“You know, I had trouble pulling my bow back today. I think my shoulders are just a bit too tense from all the extra work we’ve been putting in lately. I was wondering...Peeta, do you think you could give me a massage?” I ask with an air of innocence, but I can see the immediate effect my words have on him. His cheeks flush slightly and his eyes darken noticeably.
I walk over to his large navy blue couch and sit facing away from him. I tug off my sweater in one quick move and I hear his intake of breath. Underneath I have on only a thin undershirt.
He settles behind me on the couch, quietly and when his large warm hands graze my skin I shudder.
He kneads my shoulders lightly, and it feels wonderful, it really does, but I think my muscles would benefit more from direct contact with his fingertips.
“Do you think the shirt is getting in the way? It seems to keep bunching up…” I throw out the offer and his hands flex over my shoulders.
“Maybe...I mean we could try it without the shirt if you want.” He tells me in a strained voice.
“Yeah, I think we should.” I answer him and cross my arms over each other and lift up the hem of my shirt in one fast motion, over my head and toss it onto an armchair to the right of me.
I can hear his breathing quicken and I smile secretly to myself. There, the ball is in his court now.
“You know, I think this might get in the way too,” He says in a deeper tone than his usual one, as he trails one finger down the left strap of my bra.” I smile, and reach back to undo it. When it falls away, I can feel anticipation building in the air like the beginning whine of a teapot left to boil.
“Much better,” Peeta says in a low whisper and his hands travel all over the skin of my back. His fingers urgent, his grip tighter as he massages my bare skin. My breath hitches when his hand wanders to the sensitive skin over my ribs.
“Maybe you’d feel better if I kissed those sore muscles…” He tells me, his mouth so close to my ear I startle reflexively against him. And then before waiting for my answer he’s kissing the back of my neck, down my shoulder, along my spine. He leans me forward with his hands so he can kiss and trace a path up and down my back with his tongue. I moan when he sucks on the tense patch of skin between my shoulder blades.
One of his hands reaches out to cup my right breast, but just before he can close his hand around my already excited flesh, there’s a knock at the front door. I bolt up from the couch, knocking him backward in the process. He makes a sound of surprise, but I don’t stop to see if he’s ok. I just flee the room, looking frantically for someplace to hide.
The closest place I can find is the coat closet. And not a moment too soon, because before Peeta can even ask who it is, the door opens.
(Peeta POV)
Of all the goddamn times!!! I shout angrily in my head when the sound of a pounding fist thunders against my front door.
One minute she was halfway naked and getting more pliable beneath my hands by the minute, the next she was flying out of the room like someone set her hair on fire, practically knocking me off the couch in her haste to escape. But then there’s the sound of a key turning the lock, and I know, I know without a doubt who the unwanted intruder is. There’s only one other person who has a key to my house.
“Afternoon sunshine, I came to retrieve the hammer you borrowed the other day.” Haymitch’s excruciatingly frustrating lazy drawl rings out from the foyer and I bite back the urge to tell him to get the hell out of my house this instant.
“That key is supposed to be used for emergencies only Haymitch!” I practically shout at him as he enters the living room.
“Ooo touchy today aren’t we?” He comments in a mocking tone.
“I’m not up for visitors at the moment, so just get what you came for and go home will you?” I tell him as I adjust the couch pillow over my lap to hide the evidence of what had been about to happen right before he barged in.
He doesn’t say anything, which isn’t like him so I peer over at him and see his eye is caught on the green sweater thrown over the armchair. I gulp.
He turns to grin at me.
“In the middle of something important were you?” He comments with a knowing smirk.
I know I’m red in the face, from both embarrassment and anger. But I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of admitting anything.
“Hammer’s on the counter in the kitchen.” I tell him with barely contained frustration.
“Thanks kid,” He says as he moves away and walks as slowly and unconcernedly as he can down the hallway. I lean over the arm of the couch with my face pressed into the fabric and groan.
It takes an eternity for him to retrieve the hammer, and walk back leisurely to the living room. I’m staring daggers at him but he’s just grinning like an idiot.
“Will that be all?” I ask as I take what I hope will be a deep, calming deep breath.
“Actually I was wondering what you’re doing for dinner-”
“Out!” I interrupt impatiently, pointing my finger in the direction of the door.
He erupts into laughter, but turns around and heads for the door.
“You two have fun now!” He calls loudly, so loud I’m sure his mocking voice can be heard through my whole house, and then he’s gone.
I get up quickly from the couch and start searching for her.
“Katniss?” I call but there’s no answer. I call her name several times in the kitchen, in the hall bathroom, and through the spare rooms but I get no response.
If she hadn’t left her clothes here I’d think she would have gone home, but no, she wouldn’t go anywhere half naked. She’s got to be around here somewhere. Just when I’d almost given up, and I’m walking back down the hall to check the basement, a hand reaches out from behind a door and pulls me into the coat closet.
“Wha-?” I start to say but then her angry grey eyes are staring up at me in the yellow flickering light. She has on one of my light pullover sweatshirt jackets and she looks adorable in it.
“Is he gone?” She growls and I nod quickly.
“How could you have left the front door unlocked?” She whispers furiously at me, and I shake my head at her in defence.
“Of course I locked it. He has his own key.” I tell her and she frowns.
“He’s gone now, ok?” I tell her and pull her against me, wanting to buy my face against her neck and finish what we started in the living room.
But she pulls back a little, looking at me skeptically.
“He could come back.” She insists and I sigh in exasperation.
“He’s not coming back, I told him I wasn’t up for company, I told him to go home.” I tell her emphatically. I’m starting to get a little worried that maybe the moment was ruined. Damn it. I thought, as I desperately tried to think of something that could salvage the afternoon.
I tuck my right hand under the soft fabric of the sweatshirt of mine she’s wearing, and begin to tentatively trace circles up and down her back in the way I know she likes. She relaxes just a little against me.
“Peeta,” she says in a soft sighing voice as she leans toward me and I smile. I love the way she says my name when I’m touching her.
“If anyone comes back, they won’t be able to find us. We can stay right here. Only the coats will know our secrets.” I whisper against her ear and her hands come up to run over my chest.
“Well...we’ve been in practically every other room in this house…” She tells me as she smiles against my t-shirt.
“It's about time, don't you think, that we finally put some truth to all those coat closet rumors…” I tell her as I begin kissing her neck.
“Oh, past time.” She answers and slips her hands underneath my shirt. Her light touch is like electricity and I love the texture of her slightly calloused fingertips and they travel up and down my chest. I can feel my pulse quicken and I’m relieved, so very grateful that this is still going to happen.
She tugs my shirt over my head and begins kissing up my bicep, across my collarbone, and I reach down to pull the sweatshirt off of her.
The sight of her warm bare olive toned skin sends a flare of desire shooting up inside me, her flat stomach, her softly flared hips, her mouth-wateringly gorgeous breasts. I feel my body responding more adamantly now. The pants I’m wearing are becoming uncomfortable as my body strains against the fabric in anticipation.
Her nimble fingers reach down to help me unbutton them, and I feel a thrill run through me. She’s breathing hard now, but she has that barely concealed hungry look in her eyes that I’ve come to recognize means she wants me too. And then it's a rush to get the rest of our clothes off as fast as possible.
I lift her carefully over my hips and she hoists herself up so that both of her arms are gripping the wooden dowel that holds the coats. It's a little awkward, and the space is a little tight, but I was the one who suggested it and there’s no going back now. I can practically feel the heat coming off her body in waves. And my body is more than ready to get this started.
She gasps when she lowers herself down onto me, and I groan, a little loudly. She feels so incredible. She’s so fucking wet. And tight. I think for the hundredth time in the past few weeks how lucky I am. Hell, I could come from just how good it feels slipping into her alone.
I support her with one hand against her back and the other braced against the wall of the closet, and then we’re moving, building up a really good rhythm. She’s not one for talking during, but she does make the sexiest little sounds. Little gasps and grunts as I fuck her hard, so that she’s panting my name on each subsequent thrust. Her body looks so good, so captivating as she uses her thin muscular arms that are toned from hunting everyday to alternatively push and pull herself up and down on my body. Her tits rhythmically moving in time with the push and pull of our bodies in the near dark. I close my eyes not wanting to get too carried away. She hasn’t even started clenching around me yet. And I want her to come, I need her too. I have to see her features go slack, her eyebrows pluck up in pleasure and her soft lips part in ecstasy.
She’s building up a nice sheen on her skin, and so am I. This is actually good exercise, this position. She’s practically doing pull ups and I have several major muscle groups flexing in concentration as I balance us both and flex my hips in time with her movements. She’s breathing hard now, her eyes closed, her face tilted up and her mouth pursed in concentration and I know she’s close. And the next moment I feel her gripping me, hard and unexpected. Usually I have a little bit more warning before she climaxes. But I guess this one snuck up on us both.
Little breathless sounds escape her in time with the clenching of her muscles and I bury my face against her chest as I feel myself losing control. Her muscles are beginning to relax as I surge up reflexively as the pleasure overtakes my body. I bury myself, deep, up the hilt inside of her, and she gasps, surprised, but then a wanton moan is torn from her throat as another orgasm hits her. It doesn't always work, the domino effect of triggering one climax after another. But sometimes I can wring one or two out after she comes the first time on my dick, before I spill inside of her. And if not, then I just eat her out until she comes to her heart's content on my tongue. I’m overjoyed though that she does come again now with me. It makes my own pleasure all the sweeter. I feel my body pulse in time with hers, and it takes me to a deeply satisfied place.
Once we’ve both finished riding out the storm, I gently lift her off me and set her on her feet so I can lean against the wall and rest for a moment. She leans over and kisses my shoulder affectionately and I smile tiredly.
“And to think we could have been doing that in all those coat closets all along.” She says with a regretful note in her voice.
I just laugh, a little amused, a little regretful myself, and then lean down to kiss her sweet lips.
