Day 1

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"You've got to pretend-date your best friend for a couple of weeks because reasons, and somehow that means we're passing ourselves off as siblings to explain why we live together but we've started giving each other really filthy pre-sex looks behind everyone's back like a game of chicken and pretty soon somebody is going to have serious concerns about our siblinghood"

(This was a really strangely worded prompt, so I decided to just go with the sibling part, not the fake-dating part.)

Peeta balls up the used red napkin and rolls it out of his palm onto the table. A few more giggles escape both of us as he wipes his nose again.

"Fuck, that burned," he complains, and I burst out laughing again. He glares at me but can't conceal the mirth in his expression. "It isn't funny. I just squirted a fucking bloody Mary out of my nose."

"I know, idiot. And it was hilarious." He glowers at me over his glass and I smile innocently. "I guess I should stop being so entertaining," I sigh dramatically.

Peeta snorts. "Tone it down a little, would you? Ugh, if I knew you were going to make me do that, I wouldn't have gotten a drink with vodka in it."

I shrug helplessly and he sighs, both of us looking over the sea of heads before us. Peeta and I were lucky enough to snag a table before the bar started getting busy. I'm not a fan of crowds, and I wouldn't even have been here if it weren't for a very insistent and love-struck Annie. She dragged me here to meet some guy whose name I don't recall, and she was kind enough to let Peeta tag along to keep me from crawling out of my skin.

Suddenly a man and woman plop down in the two remaining chairs at our table- everyone else is too preoccupied with dancing to sit- and I inwardly groan at the inevitable socialization. The woman, sporting a high, sleek blonde ponytail and an uncomfortably tight red dress, smiles at us kindly.

"Hi," she greets. "I'm Madge." She extends her hand and I grasp and shake it. Then she gestures to her side. "This is Gale."

The man in question smiles stiffly, his tousled, dark hair and grim expression surely matching my own. He looks nearly as miserable as I feel.

"Katniss," I reply, then point to Peeta and introduce him.

"You guys are such a cute couple," Madge gushes, her blood-red nails clutching the beer bottle in her hand. She's very pretty and very sweet, but I'm not much in the mood for niceties.

No. In fact, I want to mess with this girl.

"Actually, he's my brother," I reply coolly, ignoring Peeta's questioning stare from my periphery. He doesn't object, thankfully, just sits and waits for an explanation.

"Oh!" Madge squeaks and covers her mouth with her pale, manicured hand. "I'm sorry! I just thought-"

I almost feel bad for saying anything in the first place. Then again, she wouldn't have been right in assuming we were dating, anyway. These days it's very hard to be best friends with a member of the opposite sex and not have people think otherwise.

"It's fine," I say, waving her off. "We get that all the time. He's technically my half-brother, which is why we look nothing alike."

Madge is so embarrassed that she just nods and smiles a little too brightly, then turns away quickly, suddenly very interested in the suggestive dancing going on all around us. Gale, at least, looks amused. He eyes me for a moment, barely suppressing a smile, before turning the other direction with Madge and slinging an arm around her shoulders.

"Mind explaining what the fuck is going on?" Peeta murmurs in my ear, and I turn to him, smiling mischievously. "Uh oh," he says at my expression. "This means trouble, doesn't it? What did you get us into?"

I shrug uselessly, teasing, always teasing, and he grabs my shoulder. "Katniss. Tell me."

I lean in closer to him- quite unnecessarily, I might add; the blasting music will do enough to cover my words. "Here's what I'm thinking: we pretend to be brother and sister, but, like, with atwist."

He sighs and deadpans, "And what would this 'twist' be, Katniss?"

I smile deviously. "We can play this game of sort-of chicken, where we have to give each other, like, really sexual looks- and maybe even touches, if you feel like it- and we'll see how much it takes before they crack." At this I gesture to Madge and Gale, who are still faced away from us, chatting quietly.

Peeta narrows his eyes before dropping his jaw nearly to his chest. "You sick fuck," he says, though he's smiling.

I lift a shoulder and smirk. Then I extend my hand to him. "Do you accept this challenge, Mr. Mellark?"

He shakes his head but grasps my hand. "Fuck yes, Ms. Everdeen."

I grin and release his grip. "Alright. Get them talking. You're better with words, and this isn't going to work if they keep facing away."

He nods. "So, Madge," he calls, and the blonde ponytail swings as Madge whirls around. "What do you guys do for a living?"

They strike up a conversation and I go easy at first, leaning my elbow on the back of my chair and turning to face Peeta. I nod at everything he says, listening intently, and a few times I even throw in an affectionate smile for good measure. Then I pinch his leg and take over the conversation to give him an opportunity.

As the minutes tick by and the conversation branches from one topic to another, the touches Peeta and I share become more intense, the looks more adoring. A rub of the upper arm, a pinch of the cheek. Once I even run my hand through his hair, which makes Peeta's face bloom red with the effort of trying not to laugh out loud.

Madge's and Gale's faces grow increasingly tainted with confusion, although they try their best to hide it. With every passing minute I can sense their growing discomfort, their expressions comical.

And then I can't help it: I go for gold.

Maybe it's the drinks, maybe it's the way I always seem to be around Peeta. But I reach over, grasp his face in my hands, and kiss him full on the mouth. I hear a little gasp from behind me that undoubtedly came from Madge, but I ignore it, smiling against Peeta's still, stunned lips. Then he reciprocates, jumping to life so suddenly you'd think he'd been shocked.

I pull back a moment later and whisper, "I win."


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