Katniss liked to watch Peeta sleep. In the years after the war, he'd never truly fully recovered. But when he slept the furrow in his brow melted away and his face became serene and peaceful. It was a stark contrast to the tight, pained expressions that told Katniss he was fighting off a venom flashback. In his sleep Peeta still looked like the boy with the bread. Katniss shifted closer, tracing his profile with her fingertips, brushing her knuckles down his jaw.
"What are you doing?" Peeta asked softly, opening his eyes just a little, glancing at her before turning to kiss her hand.
"Nothing," Katniss buried a smile against his shoulder. He chuckled, shifting to scoop her over his body and wrapping her in his arms. She nuzzled against his neck, planting soft kisses along the hollow under his jaw. "Watching you." Peeta smiled, letting his hands drift down her bare skin. Katniss' habit of refusing to bother with pajamas steadily shifted over the years from sleeping in her underclothes to sleeping in nothing at all. Peeta had yet to follow suit, but most nights he wore only a simple pair of linen shorts, which Katniss was currently working her fingers into the waistband of.
A low groan rumbled through Peeta's throat beneath her lips as Katniss worked his shorts down, reaching between them and curling her fingers around his cock. He tilted his chin, catching her mouth with his before sliding his hands over her thighs, drawing her knees to either side of his hips. Peeta felt her against him, hot and wet and soft. She angled her hips, moving over him and guiding his cock into her, sinking down on him slowly. She let out a soft, quivering whimper as he filled her, setting both hands on his chest as their hips met. Peeta watched her eyes close, lips part, head tilt back as she began to move on him. He held her hips, steadying her, guiding her to the rhythm he wanted; slower and gentler than she would default to. A light sheen of sweat slowly broke out over her skin, making it glow in the faint moonlight that shone through their open window. When he couldn't just watch her anymore, Peeta wrapped his arms around her hips, sitting up and pressing his mouth to her skin. He trailed his lips between her breasts, took her nipple into his mouth and wound his fingers in her hair.
"Peeta," she breathed, grinding harder against him. In one quick motion he turned them both over, leaning over her on the mattress as she hitched her legs around his waist. Her hands slid down his back, pressing him closer, encouraging him, and he looped his arm beneath her hips, moaning against her skin as he pumped into her.
Peeta felt her tensing under him, her thighs tightening against his sides, and it pushed him closer, his pacing lost to feeling. He fucked her, driving himself as deep as he could, his fingers finding their way to her clit. He wanted to push her to the edge first, feel her pulse and contract around him and ride through her orgasm to his own. Her moans and gasps urged him on, and Katniss clung to him, curling up and pressing her face against his shoulder, crying out as her entire body trembled. She muffled her voice in his skin, and he felt her clamp down around him, gripping his cock and pulling him deeper. Peeta moaned her name, pressing his eyes closed and emptying himself into her.
Neither of them moved for a while, their breathing slowly evening out. Peeta shifted to the side as Katniss lowered her shaking legs. He covered her neck and shoulders with slow, lingering kisses. She made a sleepy, contented sound and twined her fingers in his hair.
"Katniss?" Peeta asked softly, settling himself beside her. She turned toward him, eyebrows raised in question, slipping an arm around his waist. "We did this the night before the Quell. Real or not real?"
"Real," Katniss smiled, kissing him softly.
