Cold Weather | By : Wester Category: G through L > The Hunger Games Trilogy Views: 5174 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games trilogy, nor any of the characters mentioned in this story. I am making no money off of this story. |
Peeta's decided that it's about time to paint a picture of the cat that he brought in last fall. He would've gotten around to it sooner, but lately his notebooks have been filled with studies of someone else, his canvases occupied by the same figure rendered in watercolor, oil, chalk, and acrylics. The smiling visage of Gale Hawthorne is the main subject of his art lately, and who can blame him? Gale's body is any artist's dream, its rugged form simply inviting Peeta to copy it down on paper, When he's painting Gale, Peeta never really considers himself an artist - just a vessel, channeling an essence into a two dimensional form. They embarrass Gale, the paintings, Peeta knows. He would never show them to anyone else anyway, even though he believes they're the best work he's done. When he studied art in the city, he drew from models often, beautiful women and men coming to the academy to stand nude in front of a class. It never appealed to Peeta as much as this does, though - he always found himself wondering what their names were, where they'd come from. How could he bring them to life on paper before he knew their history?
Peeta glances at the cat sunning itself on the paint-stained table. He doesn't know its history. Has no way of finding it out. But since he knows how the cat acts, he can probably construct a very convincing story for it in his head. Animals were easier than humans. Peeta won't feel as guilty if he finishes this painting knowing something isn't quite correct, perhaps in the proportion of the features or the reflection of an eye. The light on the fur could be tricky, though. Especially since he's quite low on yellow paint. He would mix more, but the goldenrod he uses to tint yellow won't be easy to find in the dead of winter, certainly won't be growing wild. There's no way he's going out to try to find some in the market - Peeta hates the cold. Were it up to him, he'd move to District 5, where Katniss and Finnick live, where it's warm and sunny year round. He can't bring himself to suggest to Gale that they move away from the woods, though. Gale doesn't know how to live any other way. He sighs and closes his sketchbook, deciding it better to start dinner than a painting he knows he won't be happy with.
He's barely set the lid on the stew to let it simmer when the door to the cottage swings open and a grinning Gale steps in, accompanied by a gust of icy January wind and a few snowflakes. Peeta wipes his hands on a towel and hurries to shut the door behind Gale, taking the game bag from him. Gale takes off his gloves and hugs Peeta, planting a kiss on his forehead.
"Augh, God, Gale! You're cold!" Peeta tries to twist out of his grasp, recoiling from Gale's icy lips. Gale laughs heartily, tries sneaking a frozen hand up the back of Peeta's shirt. Peeta grabs both of Gale's wrists firmly and leads him to the fireplace.
"Please behave, or I'll give you no dinner," he says airily, sitting him down in front of the hearth. "Warm yourself up."
"All right, Effie," Gale smirks, covering his face when Peeta swats at him.
"What did you bring me today?" asks Peeta, peeking inside the game bag. He pulls out a squirrel and a pitifully thin rabbit, their bodies completely stiff from the cold.
"Not much," Gale says bleakly. "It's getting worse out there, Peeta. Nothing wants to be out in this weather."
"Oh, don't sound so dismal, Mr. Hawthorne. We've got plenty to last us through the winter. And enough chickens to get through two months after that, I'd warrant." He turns back to the gas stove where the stew is simmering. "Would you rather carrots or parsnips in the st-"
He's cut off by the presence behind him, arms snaking around his torso, Gale's warm breath on the side of his neck. "Did I ever tell you how cute your ass looks in these pants?" he says, voice low.
"No," squeaks Peeta, whose pulse reacts quite unfairly every time Gale touches him, no matter how accustomed he thinks he's gotten.
Gale slips his hand into the back pocket of said pants, leaving his other arm encircling Peeta's waist. "That smells delicious, by the way. I want carrots. As long as they don't go too mushy."
Peeta rolls his eyes. "Of course, your highness." His sarcasm is slightly ruined when his voice tapers into a squeak as Gale squeezes his ass, then laughs.
"Goddamn you," Peeta mutters, then bends to pull the bread from the oven. "Make yourself useful, please, and slice this," he orders, slapping a knife down on the counter next to it. He moves as close as he can to the edge of the counter to hide the fact that his cock is awake and complaining that it didn't get any attention.
Gale notices, though, of course, Peeta can tell by the giant smirk on his face. He's not going to any trouble to try and hide his own issue, but then he's never been subtle about it.
"I'm starving!" exclaims Gale as he sits down with his bowl. "Gotta get some food in me before I can expend any more energy." The twinkle in his eye is more pronounced than ever, and Peeta glares. He's willing to play along, though.
Peeta's spoon becomes an object of great fixation for him, and he makes sure to lick every bit of food off of it after every bite he takes, watching Gale with half-lidded eyes as he swirls his tongue over the surface. Soon, he's moaning with dramatized pleasure every time he takes a bite of bread, licking off each of his fingers when he finishes.
Finally Gale stands up and marches around the table to Peeta's chair, picks him right up and sets him down on the loveseat in front of the fireplace. Peeta pretends to be surprised, widens his eyes and raises his brow.
"You little slut," Gale growls playfully, palming the front of Peeta's pants. "What's this? You've been asking for it ever since I walked in, little mouse."
Peeta gasps, and blushes. Even though he's far from being a virgin, Gale's frank sexuality always manages to unseat Peeta. His body is definitely reacting, now, wanting more. He rolls his hips into Gale's hand and leans forward to kiss him. Gale's mouth is deep and wet and a little prickly from the stubble on his face. He puts an arm around Peeta's back and pulls him down on top of him so they're laying on the loveseat. Peeta moans a little and grinds down where Gale's hand is still rubbing.
"Mm, yeah, you like that, don't you," Gale mutters, taking the opportunity to begin slipping Peeta's pants off. He never shuts up during sex.
Peeta frowns and grabs at his pants. "'S'too cold."
That really cracks Gale up. "Don't worry, little mouse. I'll keep you warm." He removes his own clothing and hugs Peeta tightly, kissing up and down his neck. His hand finds Peeta's now exposed ass and squeezes, then decides to roll himself over so that Peeta is underneath him. He sits up, surveys Peeta's body and then bends down to lick a trail down his abdomen.
"Jesus Christ, you're energetic ton - ohhhffffuuu..." Peeta trails off as Gale's tongue reaches the sensitive skin just above his cock, then moves to his inner thighs where he kisses the junctions where his legs meet his body. Peeta forces his legs further apart for Gale, trying to get as much contact with his lover's mouth as he can.
"Gale...please..." he whines, placing a hand on Gale's shoulder. Gale surveys Peeta's face, brows furrowed as if in distress and mouth parted.
"What do you want?" Gale dances his tongue tantalizingly onto Peeta's balls, grinning all the while.
"Mmmm...suck me, please..." Peeta tosses his head back and rolls his hips, voice low and sultry. Gale's stomach does a little flip. It's moments like these when he isn't sure if Peeta is being seductive on purpose, or if he's just unaware of how sexy he is. Either way, there's no way Gale can resist following his demands, so he cuts to the chase and takes Peeta's cock into his mouth, tonguing the slit long enough to taste the salty bead of precome forming there. Peeta sighs, almost as if in relief, and moves his hand to rest in Gale's hair. Once given what he wants, Peeta becomes quite passive during sex, which Gale loves. It gives him the opportunity to try anything he wants on his lover.
Gale coaxes Peeta's legs up higher so they rest on his shoulders and he has access to his entrance. He lays one wide hand on Peeta's hip, holding him down to the couch. "Stay still, now," he purrs, lowering his mouth to Peeta's hole. He laves his tongue across the flushed skin there while keeping a hand stroking his cock.
Peeta's panting at all the stimulation, sipping in breaths of air to keep from moaning. His hand grips Gale's hair tighter. Gale can tell he's getting close, so he eases off, slows the movement of his hand on Peeta's cock to a standstill.
Peeta makes a frustrated noise and peers up at him. Gale laughs and reaches up to kiss his neck. "Are you cold?" he asks gleefully, beginning to stroke his own cock slowly.
"Fuck off," growls Peeta, bucking his hips impatiently underneath Gale. "Get on with it, or I'll do it myself," he warns, beginning to sneak a hand between their bodies to where his cock is trapped.
Gale tuts disapprovingly and grabs Peeta by the wrist. "Settle down, princess," he grins, and gives Peeta a peck on the lips before slithering back down his body and taking Peeta's cock in his mouth again. He holds Peeta's hips down with a forearm, his other hand fisting his own cock as he sucks on Peeta, brow furrowed in concentration.
Peeta's really getting into it now, squirming around and making throaty little noises every time Gale swallows him down deep. Gale doesn't like admitting it, but sucking Peeta's cock really gets him going too, and he has to keep himself in check or he'll come in his hand before he's finished with Peeta.
The muscles in Peeta's abdomen tighten, and he raises himself onto his elbows. "Gale," he whimpers, face flushed and eyes lidded. Gale glances up at him just as Peeta's cock jerks in his mouth and he moans, spilling his load down Gale's throat, jet after jet of thick, hot liquid erupting from him.
The sensation sends Gale over the edge, and he sits up, come dripping out of the side of his mouth as he thrusts into his own hand incessantly, hips snapping back and forth like the pistons of an engine. Finally, he cries out and shoots his load all over Peeta's chest, bracing a hand on his shoulder, entire body shuddering.
Gale collapses onto Peeta, catches his mouth in a loose, open mouthed kiss that's more tongue than lip. His entire body sings with satisfaction, endorphins pumping through his veins.
He's about to fall asleep when he hears a little giggle from underneath him. "It's kinda cute how you get off on sucking my cock," Peeta says, the same twinkle present in his eye that Gale has had all evening.
"Go the fuck to sleep," growls Gale, but he can't help but smile, knowing he deserves it.
Beneath him, Peeta keeps his eyes open long enough to memorize the look of Gale's features, deciding that he'll get to work on another painting tomorrow. He strokes Gale's hair softly, fingers coming to rest on the back of his neck as he slowly drifts off to sleep. He's glad to have someone like Gale around when it's this cold outside.
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