Requested by book-boys-are-my-guilty-pleasure
Deciding to ally with Cato had to have been the worst decision you could’ve made in the Games.
“‘Morning, lovely,” Cato greeted as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. You let him sleep while you kept watch for any of the tributes that were left.
“It’s evening, if the arena sky is anything to go by,” you pointed out as Cato began to sit up.
“You know that means nothing,” Cato stated, wrapping his arms around you and kissing your cheek and neck.
You felt your cheeks heat up with a blush. Cato was always the most affectionate when he’s tired, and you honestly loved the attention. You reached up to run your fingers through his hair as he cuddled you, though you noticed a hand started to wander down to your backside.
“Cato!” you scolded, grabbing his hand. “We’ve been through this. The Districts are watching!”
“I don’t care,” Cato stated, pushing against you in protest.
You giggled and shoved back, managing to get Cato on his back. You smirked, taking the opportunity to pin him, your hands holding his hands to the ground above his head, and your legs pinning his legs down.
“You’re a Career. I’m not. It was way too easy to pin you,” you teased.
Cato smirked, now seeming more awake. “How do you know you’re not right where I want you?” he asked. Suddenly, Cato lifted one of his legs, sending you off-balance. He easily flipped the two of you, now the one pinning you to the ground. “This is why you need me.”
“And why do you need me?” you asked.
“For this,” Cato replied, before bending down to kiss you. You closed your eyes, and the arena seemed to melt away.
That is, until Cato’s hand again started wandering. You giggled as you swatted it away. “I told you to stop that!” you scolded.