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So @jhsgf82 asked me to everlark the movie Which Brings Me to You, and I wrote out a synopsis with no intention of writing it. Anyway, after finishing off my last WIP, I was going to wind down by reading Funny Story by Emily Henry, and I can not get into it… so I wrote this drabble instead. Katniss and Peeta as two cynics engaging in a disastrous wedding hookup…

“How are you feeling?”

Katniss hasn’t even lifted her glass of Riesling before she’s asked the question. It’s her Aunt Maysilee, but not in a familial way. “Aunt” as in her mother’s friend, since Katniss was a kid, and now, even at 30, they’re still carrying on with the charade.

Katniss takes a sip of her wine. “I’m well,” she says.

Aunt Maysilee inches a step closer than necessary and lowers her voice. Nothing like a wedding to facilitate the juiciest of gossip.

“It isn’t too late,” Aunt Maysilee says.

“Pardon?”

“To tell him how you feel.”

“Who?”

Maysilee leans close enough for Katniss to smell the powder of her foundation. “Gale,” she says.

Katniss chokes on her wine.

They’re both invited guests at Gale’s wedding to someone who is most certainly not Katniss.

“We’re just friends,” Katniss says, which is a far more diplomatic response than what initially comes to mind: Are you out of your fucking mind?

“We’ve all been saying you’re destined for one another. Ever since you were kids and you’d be following him around.”

“It’s never been like that,” Katniss says, taking a long pull from her drink while her eyes scan the room for an escape.

They’re at some historic cottage in the mountains just outside of town, where the trees are dense and lush. Both bride and groom love the woods. Katniss does too, but again, she’s not the one getting married.

The ceremony is running late, so the cocktail hour in the parlor has started early, and people��s inhibitions are already too loose for comfort. Katniss wishes the DJ would start up some obnoxiously loud music to help drown out the conversation. Or at least they could pass around some hors d’oeuvres to soak up the alcohol.

“He’s like my cousin,” Katniss emphasizes. In fact, she calls his mother Aunt Hazelle, and in her case, she actually means it.

Just last night at the rehearsal dinner, Katniss had been helping clean up, and Hazelle had pulled her aside to say she wished she had a daughter just like her.

“Don’t let Posy hear,”Katniss had joked. Hazelle already had a daughter.

“You know what I mean,” she said. Katniss hadn’t, but now as she empties her glass of wine, she thinks she does.

Everyone has lost their minds.

Katniss scans the crowd for her sister, who would make a wonderful buffer. She orders another Riesling and excuses herself from Aunt Maysilee.

Prim is nowhere to be found, and Katniss is on a direct collision path with Aunt Effie (by marriage in this case) who is potentially the worst gossip of all. She hasn’t seen Katniss yet. She’s still gushing over another guests wardrobe. It should be noted that Aunt Effie is the only guest in attendance wearing a hat, and the hat is large enough to block the sun for every guest in attendance.

Aunt Effie begins to turn in Katniss’s direction, and Katniss cringes, concerned that the brim of her hat may take out an expensive looking wall sconce.

Katniss reaches for the nearest doorknob and ducks inside, slamming the door shut behind her.

It’s the coat closet, which was probably a cellar at some point, until the building was turned into an event venue. There are three coat racks lining the walls, and a man crouched away in the corner.

She jumps at the sight of him.

“What are you doing here?” She demands.

He looks up at her sheepishly. It’s at this moment she realizes that she knows him. It’s Peeta Mellark. Which leads to more questions. Why would Peeta Mellark be at Gale Hawthorne’s wedding?

As far as she knows, Gale and Peeta have never spoken. Hell, she was in the same class as Peeta from grades K through 12, and she’s not even sure they’ve spoken. Their town was reasonably small, but the cliques ran deep.

“Hey, Katniss,” Peeta says. “Just taking a breather.”

“A breather from what?” She says, admittedly, a little on the harsh side. “What are you doing at Gale’s wedding?”

“The bride,” he explains. “It’s Johanna’s wedding too. We’re friends from college.”

Right.

Katniss is struck with a thought. If she’s hiding because half the wedding guests thinks she’s in love with Gale…

“God, you’re not in love with her, are you?”

His eyes widen. “That’s an interesting take,” he says. Peeta has better forethought than Katniss, because when he sought refuge in the coat closet, he came prepared with an entire champagne bottle, which he takes a swig from. “Unfortunately, it’s not that scandalous,” he says. “My ex is here.”

Katniss finds this, nonetheless, intriguing. “Who?” She says. Peeta definitely dated around in high school, but she doesn’t recall him ever with anyone from her circle of friends.

“Annie Cresta,” he says.

The name is familiar. “Finnick’s date?”

Peeta winces. “You know him?”

Katniss doesn’t mention she played a part in setting them up. “So what, your ex is here. You had to know she’d be here. She’s in the wedding party.”

“Yeah,” he agrees. He takes another drink. “It’s just…” Katniss sips her wine with bated breath. She is happy for drama that does not involve her. “We’ve been texting recently. Friendly texts.”

“Isn’t that good?”

“Friendly,” he emphasizes.

She cringes. “You’ve been sexting?”

“Not explicitly,” he says. “Just incriminating.”

Her eyes widen. “Pictures?”

He shakes his head with a laugh. “Why would I send her pictures of my dick? She knows what it looks like.”

Her eyes dip down to his lap. No wonder she and Peeta have never spoken. Five lines in and they’re talking about his penis. Her cheeks turn pink, and she empties her glass to cover it.

“I didn’t realize she was seeing someone,” he explains. “So I sent her my room number and said we should hang out.”

“That’s what you’re worried about?”

“What if he saw the text,” Peeta says.

“Finnick’s not the jealous type,” she says with a laugh. “You’ve seen him, he has no reason to be.”

Finnick Odair is a freaking Adonis, the perfect male specimen.

“I get it, he’s real dreamy,” Peeta says flatly.

“It’s not like you’re so bad yourself,” Katniss says before she’s really considered the implications. Peeta’s always been well liked, and, okay, good looking. She should not have had two glasses of wine on an empty stomach.

“What are you hiding from?” He asks, saving her from her misery. His nose wrinkles as he recalls the earlier part of their conversation. “Ew, you’re not in love with Gale, are you?”

“Our family wishes,” she says. She tips her glass back to try and catch the last few drops that are holding out. Peeta offers his bottle, and she takes that as an invitation to sit beside him. It’s only as the mouth of the bottle touches her lips that she realizes she could have refilled her empty glass.

Too late.

“I’m dreading that part of the wedding. The ‘speak now or forever hold your peace’ part. There are about half a dozen people who may stand on my behalf. The mother of the groom included.”

“If it helps, I don’t think they actually ask that in real life,” Peeta says. “I mean unless the officiant is jonesing for a dramatic plot device.”

Katniss fills her glass with half the remaining bottle and hands it back. Her Uncle Haymitch is officiating the wedding, and it’s not that he wants her with Gale. He’s just happy to take any opportunity to humiliate her. “I wouldn’t put it past him,” she says.

“You still haven’t answered the question,” Peeta says.

“Hmm?”

“You and Gale.”

“No,” she says, shaking her head adamantly. “There’s nothing going on there.”

“Are you sure?” God, not him too. “It’s just, the wedding was supposed to start two hours ago, and there isn’t a bride or groom to be seen.”

“You think they got cold feet?” She says.

“They definitely got cold feet.” He stretches his legs out to relax in a more comfortable position, the bottle of champagne rests on the inside of his thigh. She’s looking at his crotch again.

“Johanna’s my friend,” Katniss says, sipping on her glass demurely.

“Yeah, and she asked me about you once,” he says.

“She asked you?”

He shrugs. “She knew we grew up together.”

“But we weren’t friends,” she points out.

“I saw enough.”

She narrows her eyes. “What did you tell her?”

“That pretty much everyone had a crush on you.”

“Yeah right,” she says, snorting into her glass of wine.

“It’s true!” He says. He must be drunk, because she notices now that the tips of his ears are red. “I know I did.”

“You liked me?” She says slowly. “You never talked to me.”

“I thought you had a boyfriend,” he reasons.

Her eyes widen when the pieces fall into place. “Gale?”

He makes an obvious looking gesture.

“And you told Johanna this?” His smile is full of chagrin. “Christ, Peeta,” Katniss says shoving his shoulder. “I’ve gone axe throwing with her! She could have killed me!”

“I’m sorry, okay!” He says. “Here, let me make it up to you,” he offers by topping off her glass.

They’re sitting close, and when they hold the bottle and glass between them, their foreheads are touching. She feels a jolt of something pleasant at the contact, and makes no attempt to move away.

His eyes lift to meet hers. He’s always had the nicest eyes. They’re this gorgeous shade of blue, which is only accentuated by his long, thick eyelashes. She wets her lips.

“So you two have never,” Peeta says carefully. She shakes her head, although she’s not sure why the news is so important to him. He clears his throat and drinks from his bottle.

She settles back against the wall and sips from her glass. She’s past the point of a good buzz, and heading toward something dangerous. “I can’t finish this,” she admits. He takes the glass and empties it in one gulp.

“I’ve got an idea,” she says turning to face him. Her chest grazes his arm in the process, and it’s impossible to ignore because his eyes immediately dart to where they’re making contact. She takes in a shallow breath, which comes off as “heaving bosom,” if the glazed over look in Peeta’s expression is any indication.

“Huh?” He says dumbly, his brain cells obviously impacted by both the alcohol and diverted blood flow.

“I’ve got an idea,” she repeats. “To divert attention from our current situations.”

He bows his head slightly and his nose brushes against her bare shoulder, and, wow, okay, that felt pretty nice too. “Yeah, me too,” he murmurs, and she can feel his lips on her skin as he forms each word. He’s nuzzling her neck now, and she’s tipped her head aside to allow it.

“We can pretend to be each other’s date,” she manages to say around a sigh.

He chuckles against her throat, and holy shit. She grips the nape of his neck to hold him there. “Seems a little desperate,” he says.

His breath is hot against her cleavage, and it’s not like her dress is low cut, but the way her back is arching toward him, it’s definitely enhanced.

“What do you suggest?” She asks.

“Let’s skip the wedding.”

“And do what?”

“I’ve got a few ideas.”

And then they’re kissing, her mouth plying beneath his as he licks his way past her lips. She moans, audibly, which she would usually find mortifying, except then he’s pulling her into his lap, and they’re both struggling to push her skirt up her thighs. His fingers dig into her ass, tipping her hips forward.

Fuck! That feels good.

She’s just started to grind against his erection through his pants when the door snaps open.

“Occupied!” Peeta shouts, but the intruder is undeterred.

Katniss extracts herself from Peeta’s embrace and stands, coming face to face with her Uncle Haymitch. Worst possible outcome.

“I couldn’t find my jacket,” she says.

“I doubt you’ll find it in his pants,” Haymitch deadpans.

Peeta steps beside her. “We were just…”

“I don’t care,” Haymitch cuts him off. “The wedding is off. Everyone will be coming for their coats, so I suggest you look for your jacket elsewhere.”

“We weren’t…” she starts to argue, but realizes it’s futile. She storms out of the coatroom.

Peeta is hot on her heel. “Are you going back to the hotel?” He has the nerve to ask.

“Seriously?”

“Uh, yeah?” He says, clearly confused. “Barring the interruption, I thought things were going pretty well.”

“The wedding was called off!” She reminds him.

“I doubt that had anything to do with us hooking up.”

“You’re unbelievable!”

The parking for the manor was limited, so they’d arranged a shuttle service between the hotel. Unfortunately, the shuttle wouldn’t start up again until after the reception was scheduled to end, and guests were desperately inflating Uber surge pricing, while the maid of honor was negotiating a new shuttle schedule with the limo company.

Katniss stops short when she sees her Aunt Effie emerge from the Uber line.

“Katniss, my goodness, you’re still here!” She says, absolutely aghast by all the scandal. “We thought you’d left.”

“Why?” Katniss mistaking engages.

“Presumably to run away with the groom,” Peeta offers over her shoulder. “Home wrecker,” she elbows him in the ribs.

“Come now, darling,” Effie says waving her over. “There’s a car on the way.”

The last thing Katniss wants right now is to be surrounded by her gloating family members, salaciously speculating over how things ended. Especially what role Katniss played in it. Which, she did not. Too bad her alibi is that she was drunkenly hooking up with a near stranger in the coat room.

“I already have a ride,” she says, gesturing to Peeta.

In his defense, Peeta puts on a brilliant performance of acting sober. He gives a responsible looking nod, then waves as they climb into the SUV that’s just pulled up.

As the car pulls away, Peeta muses, “What do you think they do with all the food after one of those.”

She moans with more enthusiasm than when they were fooling around before. “I thought you’d never ask.”

#JAJFJAKDJ THIS IS GREAT 😂😂🤌🤌#thg fics

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