Prompt from a tumblr user: Victory tour. Effie comes into the living room car late at night, working on her schedule. Haymitch comes in and they talk a little, he starts to come on to her (touching her everywhere). Effie first tries to avoid him and push him away but then she touches him back. Then it gets all hot and steamy (Haymitch pushes her against a wall). Katniss and Peeta walk in on them accidentally and can't move. Haymitch and Effie don't notice at first.
A/N: Ahh this was SO fun to write, I love this one. I hope you do too!
As the gentle hum of the superfast train threatened to lull her to sleep, in her crimson robe, Effie moved to the lounge area. Since the train had arrived 35 minutes late that day, the schedule had to be completely rewritten otherwise they'd never get back to the Capitol in time. Her eyelids were soon about to betray her to the impending unconsciousness but she had to get her and the kids organized. Softly padding down the hallway in her slippers Effie remembered further down there was a refrigerator full of caffeinated beverages, her only hope of getting the work done.
Pulling a bottle from the cold Effie tiptoed back down to the sitting area and seeing that Haymitch's armchair was empty, the comfiest out of all of them, she sat down. It still had a half glass of whiskey on the table adjacent, almost comforting with its dizzying scent. Sipping from her bottle, pulling her knees to her chest for warmth, she got to work. She didn't hear him at first.
"I go to the bathroom for five minutes and you've already stolen my seat?" Haymitch's slightly slurred voice echoed through the carriage, shocking her and causing her to spill the blue liquid.
"Oh Haymitch, look what you've done! All over my papers," she scorned in an annoyed whisper, standing up, trying to brush away the beads of energy drink with her hand.
"All over my seat too," he grumbled walking in, still wearing the charcoal suit from the day before.
"Well whose fault is that? Hmm?" Effie countered prissily, eyes dashing for some sort of cleaning equipment.
He didn't reply, merely picking up his whiskey glass and half falling down on the couch. Effie still rushed silently around the carriage, making various hand gestures and occasionally mumbling the words "hairdryer" and "towel". He was already drunk enough but the manic woman brought him to a new height of nausea. After finding a set of paper towels under the sideboard, she patted her papers and the armchair dry; luckily the blue had not stained. Unsure what to do next she collected her papers and perched next to Haymitch on the couch, silently offering him his seat back.
He didn't move.
"Well aren't you going to sit back there, considering it's your seat?" she pressed. Haymitch made a noncommittal grunt and took another sip of his drink.
Huffing again, she gave up with him and began fixing the changes onto the next day's schedule. Having nothing else to do and his peace disturbed, Haymitch continued drinking, watching her work as she did. There was always a certain rawness when they sat late like this. When Effie for once was clear of all paint and perfume, in the most abnormal circumstances, it felt right. He could almost imagine they were somewhere else, the haze of the whiskey could mask his surroundings if he wanted it to, he could be anywhere else as long as he had that glass in his hand.
Her brows were furrowed as she continued searching through all of the papers; small lines appeared on her forehead in concentration. Knowing how wrapped up in everything she was; occasionally he'd trace swirling patterns on her back with his fingertip, causing her to shiver. Not that it was unpleasant. At first she batted him away but as his head was nuzzled against her hair, his stubble softly grazing her chest, Haymitch was a welcome distraction. Every so often a "please" was whispered, whether it be for her needing to focus on work or for encouragement. He didn't really care which.
After 25 minutes of working, quietly checking times for appointments, speeches, appearances, Effie finally finished rescheduling. Pushing all of the paperwork into a pile on the rug, she sighed. Still buzzing from the high dose of caffeine she leaned her head against Haymitch's arm, counting the hours till sunrise.
"You gonna sleep there?" he asked unmoving.
"I don't think I'll be able to sleep tonight, not after having that," Effie confessed, gesturing to her bottle on the carpet.
Silently he swung the neck of his own bottle over to her; it would probably be the only thing to get her to sleep, or at least to calm for a while. She considered it briefly before surprisingly taking a long swig, directly from the bottle. At that point she was willing to do anything to rid her of the tiredness washing over at 4am. He couldn't help but feel a small sense of pride as he could make the prim and proper escort did the most unlady-like things in front of him. Although the moment was quickly over as she coughed and spluttered half of it out before managing to swallow.
"What is this?" Effie choked.
"It's called a spirit sweetheart, you won't need too much before you're out," he explained, pulling it back to him.
"How do you even drink that?" she asked incredulously. Haymitch simply laughed.
"Practice," he stressed with a smirk, and then took another sip pointedly.
Unsure what else they could do, they passed the bottle back and forth between themselves. Each taking longer sips than the other to the point of her almost dropping it into his lap. Minutes maybe even hours passed before they spoke another word to each other, Effie focused on trying to keep the liquid down, as Haymitch attempted not to pass out on her – not that night.
After a while, she stopped taking the bottle back from him, and her head lolled against the back of the couch.
"How many drinks should it take before I go to sleep?" she slurred tiredly, poking him on the arm.
"Probably not too many more considering the size of you" Haymitch replied, looking her over. Effie pondered this.
"I could squish you," she whispered so low Haymitch wasn't even sure he heard it right. Although she definitely had said something like it as she stood up and sat in his lap, facing him with lips pouting, just to make a point.
"Ah I think you've had enough princess," Haymitch slurred himself "Let's get you to bed where you'll be more comfortable?" He had worked with a hungover Effie before and it certainly wasn't something you'd find pleasurable to say the least.
"But I'm comfortable here," she explained, winding her arms around his neck, bringing herself closer to him.
"At least have this," he said pointedly as he strained for a bottle of water from the cart. Effie pouted, not wanting to lose the spinning buzz that was caffeine and alcohol. Haymitch stretched for the drink that was just out of reach, knocking over several other bottles in the process. Seeing his efforts were futile, he gave up.
"You're a drunk Haymitch Abernathy! A drunk I say!" she announced grinning. He quickly shushed her before laughing; even he noticed they were being too loud.
"I don't think I'm the drunk one here sweetheart," he whispered.
"You're always the drunk one" she mumbled, her fingernail tracing down where his chest was exposed. "Let's play a game Haymitch,"
"What game would that be princess?" Haymitch eyebrows raised, Effie hated games.
"It's called… no touching!"
"I don't think I like the sound of that one" he said, pulling at her waist, moving her further on top of him.
"It's simple, one person has to tease the other, if you touch the person teasing you, you have to take a drink" Effie recited, her tired voice getting husky. Fragmented memories of her youth came flooding back as she repeated the rules, not that anyone had ever known – it was her favorite game.
She decided herself that she would be the one to start. First she rose and slipped her robe to the floor, the crimson pooling around her feet. He gazed, inside as always she felt warmth whenever she saw him look at her like that. Almost as if he was shocked that he could get someone like her, an expression hardly ever seen with her time in the Capitol. Still underneath she had her matching underwear, although those would come later, she knew how to win the game. Moving towards the couch, she brought herself down on him, her thighs rubbing against him slowly. He was getting harder. His eyes darkened. With her lips a few inches away from him, keeping his gaze, she unhooked her bra and dropped it to the floor. She was drunker than she had thought. His hands twitched towards her, still he kept his resolve. As her last piece of clothing fell to the ground, Haymitch almost growled at his inability and grabbed at her waist, pulling her into his lap.
"I think you've lost this round Abernathy" Effie giggled, bringing the bottle to his lips.
"My turn? Perfect," he smiled, lifting her off of him and placing her back down. As he began to bring his kisses lower and lower down her chest, she gave a small set of gasps; growing louder the lower he went. All she wanted was to stroke his face as he peppered her skin with more of his marks. She had to bite her tongue when his hand brushed the inside of her thigh, almost losing it completely when his stubble grazed the crook of her neck. He knew she was competitive and he was torturing her in the most wonderful way with it. She couldn't lose, this was her game. But as he took her breast into his mouth, grazing the nipple so slightly with his teeth – she didn't have a choice.
"When can this game finish?" Effie breathed, her head falling onto his chest.
"When you take a sip," he whispered back, giving her the bottle one last time.
Effie took the last sip; her lips went straight from the bottle to his, whiskey and fervour shared between them. She didn't question when he slipped his arms under her neck and legs, the bedroom was always be the best. But as they moved, a wave of mischievousness came over her, her fingers danced and brushed against his center. Pulling at the zipper, she knew she had broke him already, he confirmed it by dropping her legs to the floor. For a moment she was unsteady, only briefly as he pushed her against the wall of the train carriage.
"You're a devil you," he murmured as her fingers quickly undid his pants then and there. The haze of the alcohol had put both of them now somewhere else completely. It was only the two of them wherever they were. She moaned quietly as he lifted her further up against the wall, his lips crashing on hers roughly as he kicked his pants away from him.
His hands were ghosting, grabbing at all of her. Her hands fisted his shirt as he slowly teased her more.
The buzz from it all dropped instantaneously as she heard the metallic click of one of the bedroom doors open. Without thinking, Effie dropped quickly from him and grabbed her robe from the carpet. Peeta emerged as she had just wrapped the fabric around her and fallen on the couch, forgetting that Haymitch was still stood on the opposite side of the room without his pants.
"Effie, you okay?" Peeta asked cautiously "We heard… noises,"
"That's okay Peeta, nothing to worry about," Effie assured, her hands waving widely in explanation.
Peeta's eyes widened as he took in Effie's messed hair and general disheveled presence. They grew even wider when he spotted Haymitch sat in the corner, with some of his clothes missing.
"What…?" Peeta deliberated, the realization of it all growing quickly.
"Haymitch and I were just rescheduling…" she explained, the alcohol in her system telling her that this was a convincing excuse.
Katniss' explosion of laughter could be heard down the hallway to which Peeta gave a small awkward smile and promptly returned to his room.
It wouldn't hit Effie till morning what had just happened, the sober her would've probably been screaming right now, at Haymitch or herself – or probably both. A relentless teasing from Katniss should've been expected from then on, though Effie still was nonchalant with liquor. Haymitch grabbed at the pants on the floor and joined her on the couch.
"Rescheduling?" Haymitch took all his might not to burst out in laughter. "I like the sound of that"
"I am going to be so angry at you when I'm sober" Effie slurred tiredly, finally ready to sleep.
"If only we could be late more often" he taunted.
"Don't you dare"