#trainer!peeta

Thanks! :)

No problem! So, I chose to sketch my beloved trainer!Peeta (you know, those “Catching Fire” missed scenes): it was a hot training day and Peeta’s T-shirt was soaked with sweat, so he went away to change his clothes. Aaaaand maybe Katniss couldn't help but take a look. Just a quick one. But Haymitch saw it all ;)

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BONUS!

Because I love trainer!Peeta so much.

From Catching Fire:

But after a few days, we agree to act like Careers, because this is the best way to get Peeta ready as well. Every night we watch the old recaps of the Games that the remaining victors won. I realize we never met any of them on the Victory Tour, which seems odd in retrospect. When I bring it up, Haymitch says the last thing President Snow would've wanted was to show Peeta and me—especially me — bonding with other victors in potentially rebellious districts. Victors have a special status, and if they appeared to be supporting my defiance of the Capitol, it would've been dangerous politically. Adjusting for age, I realize some of our opponents may be elderly, which is both sad and reassuring. Peeta takes copious notes, Haymitch volunteers information about the victors' personalities, and slowly we begin to know our competition.

Every morning we do exercises to strengthen our bodies. We run and lift things and stretch our muscles. Every afternoon we work on combat skills, throwing knives, fighting hand to hand; I even teach them to climb trees. Officially, tributes aren't supposed to train, but no one tries to stop us. Even in regular years, the tributes from Districts 1, 2, and 4 show up able to wield spears and swords. This is nothing by comparison.

After all the years of abuse, Haymitch's body resists improvement. He's still remarkably strong, but the shortest run winds him. And you'd think a guy who sleeps every night with a knife might actually be able to hit the side of a house with one, but his hands shake so badly it takes weeks for him to achieve even that.

Peeta and I excel under the new regimen, though. It gives me something to do. It gives us all something to do besides accept defeat. My mother puts us on a special diet to gain weight. Prim treats our sore muscles. Madge sneaks us her father's Capitol newspapers. Predictions on who will be victor of the victors show us among the favorites. Even Gale steps into the picture on Sundays, although he's got no love for Peeta or Haymitch, and teaches us all he knows about snares. It's weird for me, being in conversations with both Peeta and Gale, but they seem to have set aside whatever issues they have about me.

PAINFUL BONUS:

One night, as I'm walking Gale back into town, he even admits, “It'd be better if he were easier to hate.” “Tell me about it,” I say. “If I could've just hated him in the arena, we all wouldn't be in this mess now. He'd be dead, and I'd be a happy little victor all by myself.”

//Peeta watches Katniss walking Gale back into town

this is for all of you who have been asking me for more trainer!peeta.  It may not be what you're expecting, but I hope you enjoy.

Katniss feels like she’s suffocating.  In that way you see in movies sometimes.  Where all the oxygen in a room is slowly being used up, and the people keep inhaling, but all they’re taking in is carbon dioxide.  That’s what this cubicle sitting, city life is doing to her.

She’d thought it would be okay, that she’d be able to cope by escaping to the woods a few times a week.  And for a while it had worked.  Until her stupid, stupid, mountain biking accident.  At her last checkup Katniss had begged the doctor for the okay to hit the trails.  Doctors can’t be cool with their patients suffocating, can they?  The orthopedic surgeon had looked up from examining the ugly scar tissue that now surrounded her knee, and given her a stern look.

“You’ve been diligent with your physical therapy Miss Everdeen, and I’m happy with the progress you’re making.  But I have to warn you, if you re-injure yourself at this point you will most likely be looking at permanent disability.”  Permanent Disability.  The words sent an ominous shiver down her spine.

So, here she is.  Stuck with a sentence of gentle exercise for the foreseeable future.  The mountains basically forbidden.  

“Why so glum?” Katniss looks up at the ray of sunshine who sits in the next cube over.  She is not in the mood to deal with ‘always look on the bright side’ Peeta Mellark.

“Permanent disability,” she snaps, and feels oddly guilty at the horrified look that crosses his face.  It’s like kicking a kitten, which leads her to explain her injury.  He nods sympathetically, does he have to be so understanding?

“What exactly are you cleared for?”  Katniss considers it.  She’s been defining it as more what she can’t do, so it takes a moment to figure it out.

“Walking and slow running on flat surfaces, light weights, that kind of stuff.”  He grins.  It doesn’t seem that good to Katniss.

“Well I know you’re a mountain woman and all, but would you be interested in road running?  I’m doing a 5k in a month or so.  I’d be happy to train with you.”

That was how she ended up with Peeta as a running partner, and dare she say it, friend?

Katniss has never been good at friends.  All of her relationships could more accurately be termed ‘relative’, ‘team mate’ or ‘training partner’.  All the people she’s socialized with since moving to this city have evaporated from her life since it became apparent that she won’t be on the mountain any time soon.  She doesn’t know why it’s different with Peeta.  But it is.  Their workouts often end with getting some food together.  And he calls and texts for reasons other than setting up a run time.  When they cross the finish line of her very first road race, (during which he kept pace with her the entire time, even though she knew he could easily have pulled ahead,) he gives her an exuberant hug.   And she feels, something.

Katniss tries not to think about it.  She knows he’s handsome.  With his blonde curls and perpetual grin he looks like a fairytale prince.  Sometimes when he’s flushed, and sweaty, and exhilarated from a good run she can hardly take her eyes off him.  But she’s also aware of the way people, particularly women, look at them when they’re out together.  A ‘what is he doing with her’ kind of look.

Katniss is fit and strong, but she knows she's no match for the kind of women who flirt with Peeta.  Like the one hitting on him right now.

Glimmer, from HR, has been dropping by Peeta’s desk every day for a week.  She’s tall, and curvaceous, with long blonde hair that she habitually flips over her shoulder as she talks.  She glides down the hallway like it’s a runway, in her towering high heels and tight skirt.  Katniss can’t compete with that, in her flat shoes, comfortable clothes, and practical hairstyle.  

She tries to tune out their conversation.  She doesn’t want to listen as Peeta and Glimmer making date plans.  But her ears prick when she hears her name.  

“…Right Katniss?”  Peeta’s head appears over the divider.  

“Sorry, what?”  She says.  His face turns pleading.

“We have plans tonight, right?” Katniss knows they do not have plans.  She specifically did not make plans with him.  Her doctor has given her the all clear for stairs, and she wanted to go to the amphitheater in the park and run at her own pace, without Peeta pushing her.  As sweet and kind as he is most of the time, training turns him into some sort of insane drill sergeant.  And nothing seems to set him off like her fears that she may never get 100% of her knee function back.

So no, they most definitely do not have plans.  

“Yeah, we’re going to that thing at the park,” Katniss hears herself say.  Because if he doesn’t want to go out with Glimmer, that’s something a friend should help out with.  Right?  It has nothing to do with the stupid crush she currently has, and the perverse desire to see this woman, who is not her rival, put in her place.

When the woman in question has strutted off down the hall, apparently feeling unvanquished, Peeta sidles into Katniss’ cube.  

“Thanks,” he mutters. “Can I go with you to the park for real?  She’s going to come by tomorrow and ask for details.”  Katniss is confused.  Yes, personally she finds Glimmer self-centered and annoying, and not someone she wants a guy as amazing as Peeta dating.  But in Katniss’ experience that’s not something men notice at this point.  Or ever.  She should let it go.

“Why are you putting her off?  Don’t you want her?”  He shrugs uncomfortably.

“Not really.”  Just let it go.  He doesn’t want that.  Be happy.

“Why not?  She’s beautiful.”  Peeta looks away.  

“Women like that are too much work.”

Katniss spins her chair around and faces her desk.  Too much work.  Gale told her that same thing when he broke up with her.  Before he started dating women who looked like Glimmer.  So she knows she’s more work than women like that.  She needs to stop thinking that her friendship with Peeta could turn into something more.  Because he doesn’t want a woman who is too much work.

“So is that a no?”  Peeta’s voice is soft, uncertain.  Like she’s already demanding too much.  Katniss will not be that problem for him.  He is her friend foremost.  And friends take care of friends.  She spins around, attempting to smile.

“No of course not.  Meet me at six?”  

Just as she expected, Katniss is running stairs at a much faster pace than she planned, because Coach Peeta is yelling at her from the ground.  

“If it’s so easy why are you down there?”  She feels embarrassed the second the words pass her lips, but really.  He’s not her trainer.  Where does he get off?

She feels a smug sense of satisfaction when she hears his footsteps thundering behind her.   And then she hears a thud and a scream.  She looks back and sees Peeta, a tangle of limbs at the bottom of the stairs.  Her stomach leaps into her chest as she rushes down to check on him, her mind flashing to the moment, months ago when it was her lying in a pile, unable to stand. Please don’t let her annoyance have led to him injuring himself.  Please God.  It’s a prayer.

His leg is twisted beneath him at an unnatural angle, and she doesn’t hesitate.  She unzips the leg of his warm up pants and slides her hand up his calf to the knee, checking for twists and damage.  Her hands find… metal.  No calf, no shin, no leg at all.  It’s a prosthetic.  She runs her hands higher.   That’s a knee, a flesh and blood one.  Covered with a sock.  Then further.  She finds bare flesh on his thigh.  Smooth muscle and soft skin covered in fine hair.

“Are you done?”  Peeta’s harsh words make Katniss jerk back.  She had her hands on his thigh.  Why did she think that was okay?  He doesn’t want her touching him like that.

He twists around and sits up.  They both lean back onto the concrete stairs, side by side.  The silence is awkward.  Of course it is.  Katniss has noticed his occasional limp, but Peeta had brushed it off as an old injury, no big deal.  She feels ashamed at her lack of perceptiveness.

“Well that answers one burning question.  What it’s going to take to get you into shorts.”  She says finally, trying to break the tension.

“I don’t own any shorts.”  Okay.  No jokes then.

“You must have been so annoyed by all the whining I’ve done, about maybe only regaining 95% of my knee function.”  It does explain his zealous commitment to getting her back to full strength.

“Yeah, well, you didn’t know.”

“Why the secret?”

“Katniss.  Really?  Do you think I want this defining me?  As a cripple?  And women don’t exactly find this appealing.  You sure aren’t looking at me the same way you were ten minutes ago.”  Katniss feels herself flushing, he noticed that she was looking.  He wasn’t supposed to notice.  Friends don’t ogle friends.  

He sighs and rolls his pant leg down, resuming the illusion, that seems more important to him than to her.  “Now you know, so can we skip the stairs for today?  You may have noticed that I’m not so good with them.”

They run track repeats without the usual banter.  Peeta is fully in coach mode, pushing for longer and faster.  Katniss is starting to get annoyed.  She is not willing to overtax her knee so Peeta can make a point on something she doesn’t care about.

“I’m done,” she declares after he drags her through another 1600m at maximum effort.  

“One more,” he yells.  

“NO!  I said I’m done.  I’m not blowing out my knee again, just so you can prove you’re as fast as a guy with two feet.  I already know that.”  She turns and heads to the parking lot.   She has almost reached her car when she hears his heavy footsteps coming up behind her.  He silently hands her the jacket and water bottle she left behind in her rush to be away from him.  She feels foolish for being so dramatic and impulsive.

“I’m sorry,” she says turning to him.  He rubs his hand over his face.

“No, I’m the one who should be apologizing.  I’m acting crazy. It’s just, this is a big deal to me, not many people know about my leg, and I’m not sure how to handle this.”

“Can I suggest talking instead of trying to kill me on the track?”  

“Katniss Everdeen suggesting talking as a solution?  Wow.  I must have really pushed you too far.”  He laughs uncomfortably.  Katniss feels a rush of affection. She really is a terrible friend.  He just accidentally exposed his biggest secret and he’s scared.  He needs reassurance, not yelling.

“Peeta, you’re my friend.  That’s not going to change.”  He looks away, toward the spectacular sunset sending pink and orange tendrils across the sky.

“What if I want it to change,” he says, so softly she barely catches it.  “What if I want to be more than friends?”  Katniss stares at him stupidly.   He isn’t making sense.  “C’mon Katniss.” He pleads when the silence stretches uncomfortably long.  “You had to notice.  And before today I was kind of thinking you felt the same way?”  When she remains silent his shoulders slump and he starts to turn away.   Katniss panics, grabbing his hand, but when he looks at her, she still can’t think of anything to say.  Hurt is starting to creep across his face, and she can’t let him look at her that way.  So she kisses him.  For a moment she wonders if she made a mistake, misunderstood what he was telling her.  But then he unfreezes and kisses her back eagerly.

When he pulls back, his face is flushed and his eyes are unfocused.  He rests his forehead against hers.

“It’s okay if my amputation grosses you out, you don’t have to see it or anything, I can do whatever you want…”  Is he still on about that?  She kisses him again just to shut him up.  Katniss isn’t good with words, but this is important.  She needs to say something, and get it right.

“You know what I want?  I want to buy you some running shorts, the really short kind, and I want you to wear them in our next race, and when women hit on you I want to have the right to chase them off.  Because you’re mine.”  He shakes his head, looking a bit disbelieving.

“Only you would think that Katniss.”  

“So are you going to let me do it?” She persists.