A/N: Oh god, I don't even know what this is. I literally woke up at 3 am with this idea. I'm an awkward person, so I'm sure this is, too. And for that, I apologize. It was sitting in my head literally for weeks, nagging me to write it, so I finally did. And now I present it to you, internet. My awkward and shitty first attempt at writing kinda-sorta-not-really sexy time. (And yes, I'm aware the title is horrible.)
Disclaimer: The only thing I own is a perverted mind.
Effie always loved dinner parties - they were so lively, so bustling, so exciting. They didn't have the same effect of Haymitch, however - he thought they were a huge, pointless waste of time. He'd only come to shut Effie up, seeing as she kept asking him time and time again if he was going, and each time she only got a half-shrug as a response. And this, of course, irritated her; he could at least give her a yes or no. He finally said that yes, he'd go, if she'd get off his back about it. He never said he'd enjoy it, or that he'd mind his manners - but then again, did he ever?
And so Haymitch was slouching down in his chair next to Effie, who was, of course, sitting completely upright, her back not even touching her chair. Haymitch had to give her a bit of credit - she did have good posture. He reached up and took his glass off the table, taking a long drink. His eyes roamed around the table, and everyone who sat at it. No one he even vaguely recognized.
They came to rest on the chattering woman next to him. Anyone would be able to recognize her. How could you not? She was currently talking to a woman who'd dyed her skin a nasty shade of pale green - did she really think she looked good like that? - and Haymitch was grateful skin dyeing was something Effie didn't care much for. He smirked as he gave her a quick once over.
She really did go all out for these types of events. Moreso than usual, at least. How she managed to walk in those heels, or keep those ridiculously long fake eyelashes on, or even move in some of the clothes she wore would always puzzle him. Shrugging slightly, he finished his drink. It was just another thing about Effie that he'd never understand.
An hour and a few more glasses of whiskey later, Haymitch stopped trying to hide that he was watching her. It wasn't like anyone was really paying much attention to the drunk from District 12, anyway. Including Effie. Which made him annoyed with the people she was talking with, laughing with, the people she was paying attention to. Had she forgotten that she was the one who bugged him to hell and back to be here? Haymitch found it a little unusual, seeing as it wasn't very good manners to ignore someone you invited to be somewhere. And she should know that.
Clearing his throat loudly, Haymitch tried in vain to get Effie's attention. When she didn't even glance over, he got slightly irritated. "Trinket," he said, hoping that would work. It didn't. "Hey, Trinket, look at me." Haymitch tried to use an authoritative tone, but failed. He sighed in relief when she seemed to excuse herself from the conversation and took a few dainty drinks from her own glass, inside which was a light blue liquid Haymitch wasn't able to identify.
He took this opportunity to reach over and smack the side of her thigh with the back of his hand, with an accompanying "Effie!" She started, not because of her name suddenly being called, but at the contact. She looked over to see Haymitch staring at her, empty glass in hand. "What?" she almost hissed.
"Mind explaining why you've been ignoring me?" he asked, eyebrows knitted together. "I have not been ignoring you." She said simply, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Haymitch narrowed his eyes. "You bugged and bugged me, asking if I was coming to this stupid thing. I don't even want to be here. And rather than talking to me, you've been wasting your breath on...that all night," he said, gesturing with his glass to the green woman.
"Octavia happens to be a very good friend of mine, thank you. And I will not apologize for talking to a friend. It would be rude not to do so." Effie said, with a tone of finality. She turned back to the table, and took a sudden interest in how straight her unused cutlery was. "You know what's ruder? Ignoring a guest you brought to one of these things, even though said person would rather be anywhere but here." Haymitch was glaring now, clearly irritated.
Effie's eyes widened and she turned back to him, mouth slightly open. "Are you implying that I'm being rude? I have not been ignoring you, how many times do I have to say it? Besides, you're not really one to talk," she lowered her voice, afraid of the possibility of drawing any attention to them, even though the room was buzzing with so many voices.
"You've been doing nothing but sitting - if it can even be called that - and drinking. You haven't even attempted to join in on any conversation." "Because I couldn't care less about the mindless drabble spewing from these idiot's mouths!" He spread out his arms, gesturing to the tables. "Well, then that's just too bad for you, isn't it?"
She picked up her glass again and took a sip. Haymitch glared down at his own glass, watching the ice cubes start to melt and wishing a damn Avox would hurry and show up, so he could get a refill. He looked back up at Effie, who was smiling at Octavia and the girl sitting next to her - this one had aqua hair and gold tattoos above her eyebrows* - who she'd apparently chosen to take Effie's place until she was ready to join their conversation again.
"Oh, no you don't," he said almost to himself, hitting her thigh again and keeping his glare, which wasn't easy when he saw Effie's expression. She'd started again, turning to him with a mixture of disbelief and irritation on her face. Under different circumstances, Haymitch would've laughed. It wasn't an expression he was familiar with seeing on her. "Haymitch Abernathy, would you please stop touching me?"
Haymitch lost his glare, and allowed himself a smirk. "If I'd known you'd make that ridiculous face, I would've started touching you years ago." Effie wiped her face of that expression, and replaced it with one of annoyance. "No, you wouldn't have. I wouldn't have stood for it."
"You're not doing much about it now," He was still smirking, amused. "There's not much I can do right now. Have you forgotten where we are? I prefer to keep violence behind closed doors, and we're anywhere but there at the moment."
Laughing under his breath that little Effie Trinket thought she could actually hurt him, Haymitch shook his head. "You and threats don't exactly go well together."
Effie huffed, getting defensive. "No one asked your opinion. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get bac-" She stopped when she was hit again. Haymitch had taken on a mischievous look, and Effie hated him for it. "I told you to stop."
He shook his head again. "No, you asked me to. And my answer is obviously no. Wait, hell no. It's too fun." He smiled when Effie shifted in her chair, obviously becoming uncomfortable. "Oh, am I making you uncomfortable? Where are my manners? I'm so sorry, Miss Trinket," he said in a mocking tone.
"You're starting to, yes. Anyone would be in this position. And you and manners don't exactly go well together." She tried to turn Haymitch's words on him, but he just shrugged. "Anyone could tell you that. But no one could tell me that I'd get a reaction like this of out you just by abusing one of your senses," he teased. Effie faced the table again, hoping he'd lose interest if she ignored him. Unfortunately, she knew him, and knew that he wouldn't. If anything, it would only add fuel to the fire. But that didn't mean she wasn't going to try.
Letting out a quiet laugh, he hit her thigh again, only this time with his palm. She tensed up and looked at him when he kept it there. "Haymitch, get your hand off of me," She hissed, trying to sound at least somewhat threatening. A voice a bit higher than her own came out instead. "Not a chance," he said, his mischievous look intensifying. "This is golden.*" He drummed his fingers, and Effie tried to distract herself by counting how many people were still there. She deflated a little when she saw only a few people had left.
The room was much too crowded for this to be happening. Even though no one was paying neither of them much attention, it didn't put her at any ease at all. Rumors would be swirling if anyone saw the drunken embarrassment of District 12 resting his hand on it's Escort's leg.
Haymitch smirked, enjoying seeing her uncomfortable. In all their years together, he could count on one hand the number of times he'd seen her this way. And he found it oddly amusing. He looked down at his hand, and stilled his fingers. He cocked his head slightly, trying to think of a way to up his game. He started tracing some of the intricate patterns on her skirt, one of which led him up a few inches, and to the top of her thigh, rather than the side.
He glanced up at Effie when she tensed again. "You alright there, Trinket?" Effie looked over at him and nodded, not trusting herself to speak again. "Mm-hmm." Haymitch raised an eyebrow. "You've always been a horrible liar, you know." She brushed off his comment and looked around the room again, silently begging someone would take notice of her, and come save her.
Of course, there was nothing. Even Octavia seemed oblivious. She picked at her meal nervously, still trying to find a distraction. After a few minutes she gave up, and looked down at Haymitch's tracing fingers, which had trailed even farther upwards.
"I take it you're enjoying yourself?" She asked, daring to use her voice, still watching his fingers. His smirk grew as an idea sparked in his mind. "I am. Aren't you?" he switched patterns, choosing one that would lead him back down. He followed this one much quicker than he did the first one, reaching the hem of her skirt quickly.
Haymitch was glad Effie had a tendency to wear shorter ones for events such as these, even though he was never really sure why. He met her eyes as he hooked his fingers on the edge of her skirt, and slowly started to slide it up.
"Haymitch Abernathy, what do you think you're doing?" Effie's eyes widened and looked up to meet his, but she made no attempt to stop him. Haymitch just shrugged. "Entertaining myself." He'd gotten her skirt up a good ways by now, and abandoned it for her skin - the skin of her inner thigh, to be exact.
The higher he trailed his fingers up, he noticed Effie start to squirm slightly. She'd broken eye contact, choosing to refocus her gaze across from her, staring past her table mates and to the wall behind them.
"Having problems sitting still?" He asked, stopping his movements. Effie only squared her shoulders and raised her head a bit, but her shaky voice gave her away. "No, I'm fine, thank you. I have noticed, however, that your hand is rather rough. You should think about investing in a good lotion." Haymitch tapped his index finger a few times, pretending to think about it.
"If it's too rough for you, I could always..." He started to withdraw his hand, and Effie blinked a few times, shaking her head.
"It's not too rough. I was only offering a bit of skin care advice." She found his eyes again, and even with all the make-up coating her face, a blush was able to make itself visible. This earned a full grin from Haymitch. "Well, that's good. Wouldn't want you to be...uncomfortable or anything."
He resumed his movements, his touch lighter this time. "You never answered my question." "And what question was that?" She picked up her fork and started poking at her food, trying to keep her expression neutral and hide the fact that this was making her...excited.
"Aren't you enjoying yourself?" His fingers slowed as he got closer to his goal, watching Effie intently. She bit her lip slightly, and her grip on her fork tightened. "I've had worse times," She answered, flickering her gaze between Haymitch and her food a few times, before resting on him. "That's what I thought," he said, smirking again.
Effie found herself squirming more and more, looking down at her lap and watching Haymitch's hand. She inhaled sharply and sat up straighter - if that was possible - as his hand stopped moving upwards. He'd reached his goal, and was somewhat, if not pleasantly, surprised to feel that Effie was...ready for him. "Well, I didn't know I had such an effect on you," Haymitch teased, rubbing her slowly.
Making a small sound that resembled a cross between a squeak and a moan, Effie released her teeth's grip on her lip and flitted her eyes around the table, afraid someone might've heard her. Luckily, the sound was drowned out by the chatter of the room, but of course Haymitch caught it. She met his eyes out of the corner of her own before quietly gasping as he applied significantly more pressure and quickening his pace slightly. Effie surprised herself as she widened her legs slightly, giving him more access.
Haymitch raised his eyebrows, and she averted her eyes back to her food. Pushing aside her panties, he traced her already wet opening, feeling her jump slightly. "So, Effie, having a nice time?" She turned her head fully towards him, giving up on hiding it. "You are just the wor-" Haymitch slid one of his fingers into her, effectively cutting her off. "Am I?" He asked, as Effie bucked her hips slightly. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, opening them again as she exhaled, nodding. Pushing another finger into her, Haymitch started to pump them, never drawing them completely out. His smirk grew as he watched her breathing hitch, and her eyes glaze over, heavy-lidded.
His attention was drawn to his tightening pants, and he swore mentally. Effie was right; this wasn't the place for this to happen. He tried to ignore it and focus on the task at hand, but the quiet whine Effie let out when he slowed his pace to check himself didn't help his situation. His readjusted his free arm, and did his best to cover it up. "Haymitch," Effie whispered, watching him. He looked back up at her, resuming his actions. "Hm?" He asked as she abandoned her utensil and dropped her hand to clutch the side of her seat, matching what her other hand had been doing. "I didn't know...I had such an effect on you," She was smiling faintly, and Haymitch half-shrugged.
"Neither did I." Effie glanced at his erection and wished she was more daring; she wouldn't mind giving him a taste of his own medicine. But she wasn't, and settled for biting her lip again - she knew most men liked that, and hoped Haymitch was one of them. She didn't have the courage to touch him, in their current setting, at least, but she could do something visually.
Narrowing his eyes slightly, his smirk disappeared. "What do you think you're doing?" He slowed his fingers, making Effie buck her hips again and bite her lip harder. "What are you doing?" She countered. "Already told you. Entertaining myself."
It was Effie's turn to smirk. "Then so am I." Haymitch groaned silently. Of course she was. He withdrew his fingers and rubbed her again, and her smirk left instantly, and she closed her eyes, fighting to keep her breathing under control. Squirming, she ducked her head and dug her nails into the seat cushion, feeling her climax coming.
Recognizing her body language, Haymitch slipped his fingers back into her, smiling victoriously. Effie rocked her hips in time with his pumping, which he'd increased ten fold. She whined again, and he felt her tighten around his fingers. He watched her face with fascination as her body tensed and she bit her lip again to silence herself as she came, eyes shut tightly and panting heavily.
Effie slowly relaxed her muscles and drooped her shoulders, as Haymitch slowly removed his fingers. She opened her eyes and lazily glanced over, watching him bring his hand back into his personal space, turning it over. "Huh," he looked up at her, eyebrow cocked. "I didn't think this would cause such a...mess."
Her eyes widened as Haymitch brought his fingers closer to his face, inspecting them momentarily before sticking them in his mouth and sucking. "Haymitch!" She whispered, mouth agape in disbelief. He took on an innocent face, removing his fingers. "Don't have a napkin," he said simply. "Had to clean them somehow."
Effie regained her composure and turned her attention to her skirt, wiggling as she pulled it back down, crossing her legs. Haymitch readjusted his own position, and the fact that Effie's taste was lingering on his tongue was definitely not helping his situation.
Smiling slightly, she gave him a slow once-over. "Now, how would you react if I were to do that to you? Although I actually have a napkin, and wouldn't need to use my mouth." Haymitch snapped his head over. "You wouldn't," he challenged quietly. Effie squared her shoulders, picking up her fork again and poking at her food. "Says you," she said, a smile still on her lips. Haymitch groaned quietly, leaning his head against the back of his chair.
Feeling a presence behind him, he opened his eyes to see an Avox, holding a fresh glass of whiskey, looking at him wide-eyed. "Oh," he said, averting his eyes, a blush slowly creeping up his face. "Good thing you guys can't talk, huh?" He reluctantly raised his arm, offering up his empty glass. The Avox took it and placed a new one in his hand, trying to avoid looking at his lap. Her gaze flickered to it anyway, and she turned and hurried off. He swore under his breath, taking a quick drink before shifting, trying to hide himself again.
Effie cleared her throat, and looked over and him, eyes mischievous. "I think I'm finished with my meal," she said. "And Octavia seems to be doing fine without me." Haymitch furrowed his brows. "So?" He asked, slightly confused.
"So, it looks like you're finished, too. I'm thinking about excusing myself and retiring to my room...but not quite to bed yet," Realization dawned, and he nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm finished. I could always keep you company, you know." Effie smiled innocently. "I know. And I'm hoping you will." Haymitch took another drink. "It'd be my pleasure, Miss Trinket."
Welp. There it is. I'm sorry.
* = lines taken from the book, even though I'm almost positive "This is golden" is from Catching Fire. I'm saying this to keep the credit to Suzanne, not take it for myself.