(unedited, feel free to point out mistakes)

This is bit of a hunger games au, I've been listening to the soundtrack and I fucking love it, depending on how well I like the outcome I might turn it into a story? I've just had a lot of ideas haha, enjoy :)

~~~

The crickets seemed to be unaware of the silence covering the forest, their songs sending an echo across the arena. There were no footsteps, voices, or rustling, only the black vastness of the night. Frank and I were both perched in the same tree, huddling together on the thickest branch we could find. Neither of us risked sleep. We only listened to the crickets as they sang their precious lullaby, for all we know it could be the last time- might as well enjoy the moment.

Speaking of Frank and I, we had grown close in the past few weeks. We met in the training facility and instantly connected. We were similar in many ways, a friendship instantly being formed.

Honestly, I kinda sorta really fucking like him; he was the most attractive guy I've ever seen in a while, and I'm really fucking gay. I have to hide it, though, because of the homophobic government that reigned upon us. Those bastards, let us love who we love. I remember one of the riots on TV, the ones with 'pride flags'. I had no idea what happened to them, but I never saw them again. They were probably dead. This terrified me, I was unable to be myself and I felt like a robot, drugged into obedience by the capital we all know and love.

My thoughts paused as I heard Frank shuffle beside me, sniffling in the cold air. He let out a soft sigh and snuggled closer to me, trying to preserve our precious body heat. He looked... strange. I couldn't tell if it was the dim moonlight or something else, but he seemed to be shaking. It could be the cold getting to him, but I was a bit worried.

I opened my mouth, my lips almost glued together. We really need water.

"Frank? A-Are you okay?" I asked, my throat raw.

He didn't reply and I felt my heart leap to my throat. Fuck.

"Frank?" I repeated, my voice shrill with irrational panic. Much to my relief, he let out a soft 'hmm?' and glanced up.

"Are you alright?" I said again, straighting up to get a better look at his pale face.

"I," Frank began, trailing off before shrugging. "I dunno. I guess."

"Are you sure? Your face is kinda blue."

"No shit, Sherlock," he grumbled, yawning. "It's fucking freezing."

I rolled my eyes and curled closer, trying to get as close as physically possible. "You seem kinda, I dunno, sad?"

Frank sighed, resting his chin on my shoulder. "I guess I am."

"Why?"

Frank's eyes fluttered shut before they opened again, this time damp with tears. Panic flooded through me as I stared. "F-Frank?"

He didn't reply, just buried his face into my chest. It was an awkward position, given our circumstances. He was shaking and let out quiet whimpers.

"Frank, please calm down, what's wrong? Are you hurt?" I whispered, gently prying him away. He avoided my gaze. Gently tilting his head up, I cupped his face, forcing him to look at me. "Are you okay?" I repeated.

"No. I'm not okay." He sniffled, tears glistening on his cheek as they slid down his face. I wiped them away before they could freeze, gently clearing his face of the salty liquid.

"Can you tell me what's wrong?" I pressed. He bit his lip before answering, "Everything. Everything is wrong. I don't wanna be in the games. I just wanna live, I wanna run away. I wanna leave the districts. I wish I had just left before the games started. I don't wanna be hurt anymore, and I don't wanna be a murderer. We're all just fucking murderers. I don't wanna kill you, you're my friend, I don't want, I don't," frank trailed off, breaking out in a sobbing fit as he hugged me closer. I rubbed circles into his back, whispering sweet nothings into his ear, willing him to calm down.

"Frank, just breathe okay?" I whispered into his ear. He nodded, but didn't make an effort to do as I asked. I sighed softly and pulled away.

Firmly pressing my hands on his shoulders, I met his gaze. "Frank, calm down." I said sternly. "Don't think about the games. Don't think about the capital. Think about your family, about your friends. Hell, even think about me if it'll take your mind off of the games. Just breathe, alright? Deep breaths. Everything will be okay. Think about your favorite things, what are some of them? Maybe your favorite animal, or color, or food. What are some of those?"

Frank paused a second to take all everything in. "D-dogs. A-and, uh, brownish gold, like Autumn leaves, like your eyes. T-they're pretty, I like them."

My face tinted red at his compliment. "Okay, anything else you like? Your drink, or food?"

"I dunno. I just like your eyes now." He whispered. I nodded. "Okay, just focus on them, alright? And breath, make sure to breathe."

I felt my heartbeat increase as Frank leaned closer, our faces closing distance. He was more attractive up close.

"They're pretty. They're like... like coffee, I like coffee. I like your eyes better, though, they're like a hazel constellation." Frank muttered, sniffling softly. He seemed to have calmed down at least a little bit, but I could still see small tears roll down his face.

"I like your eyes too." I said quietly, unsure of what to say next. Maybe thank you? Or would that sound odd? I mean, it was adorable watching him ramble about my eyes, and I was flattered by his compliments.

Frank sighed softly and looked at the sky. It was slowly turning into a lovely pinkish-yellow, the sun rising above the dark horizons. "That's pretty," He mumbled, a small smirk on his face. "But you're prettier."

I rolled my eyes, now completely sure that he was okay. "You're an asshole."

"I know." He snickered. I huffed softly and shook my head, he was so confident and cocky, I have no idea why I was so drawn to him.

Frank was quiet for a few moments before leaning on my shoulder. "Can I, can I try something?" He asked nervously. I was confused, but nodded anyways, interested in what he wanted.

"Are you sure?" He asked, leaning forwards. I felt my body heat up as he got closer. I had a feeling I knew what he was going to do, but I was incredibly flustered. Nodding softly, I felt hands trail up to my neck, pulling me towards him.

Before I could process what the ever loving fuck was happening, I felt his warm lips press against mine. He was so gentle, barely moving. He reminded me of a butterfly perched on someone's fingers, way too shy to make contact yet craving the connection.

Frank seemed to have realized that I wanted the kiss as much as he did and started to take the lead, sharing the gentle moment. Our bodies were in the middle of the games, but our minds were in our own little world. We were both sure of our sexualities now, I was very gay for this man.

I could barely hear anything over my heartbeat, at this point I believe my chest was going to explode.

I was very disappointed when Frank pulled away, but it quickly dissolved when I saw the blush on his face. He was so fucking adorable.

"That was amazing." He huffed, out of breath. I smiled softly. "It really was."

I could care less about what the capital did to me right now, I couldn't fix it anyways. Cameras surrounded the arena, I'm pretty much dead. But, at least I could taste his sugar-sweet lips for both the first and last time, that was all that matters to me now.

~~~

hiii, this is so fucking shitty lmao, i didn't know how to end it ;-;

I do have a few ideas for a story based around this, would anyone be interested? It probably wouldn't be published for a few months because I have a lot of personal projects I wanna work on, but if anyone wants me to do it I can :)