No wonder things got a little out of hand.
As a large number of them were seventeen or eighteen, it had been a most interesting selection of tributes. Twelve's boy in fact had been a week away from getting his name taken off the list; something Haymitch had built all his strategies on. Too bad he never got to put any of his plans into motion. They had lost the boy in the initial bloodbath at the Cornucopia that had been even bloodier than usual and the girl half an hour later, when the Career Pack had caught up with her.
Knowing that with so many potential victors in the arena the Games would probably last longer than in most years, Effie had decided to make a deal with Haymitch on their very first night alone in the penthouse; he had sworn to show up and behave at the most important meetings, and in return she had promised to arrange as few of them as they could get away with.
"Are you finally giving up on me, princess, or what?" he had teased her, but with some real concern in his eyes.
"Never," she had replied without missing a beat, because no matter what it had felt like, she had refused to call it capitulation. "I'm just saving my strength for next year."
The kiss he had given her in return had probably been just a thank you he had been too drunk to put into words, but it had quickly turned into one that made her panties drop, and since they both have needed the distraction, it got followed by so many more that when after almost two weeks later Effie woke up one morning to realise that the Games were finally over and he would be out of the Capitol by noon, she could almost feel her heart sink.
Since it was just past seven and without the Games she no longer needed to be up and about that early, she closed her eyes with a sigh and tried to go back to sleep, no matter how difficult that was with Haymitch snoring his head off right next to her.
Even though she knew it would make very little difference, she started caressing his back and shoulder absently in rhythm with his breathing. He didn't even seem to register it for a while, and when he did, his only reaction was to wrap his arm around her waist tighter and burying his nose into her neck deeper, muffling the noise he was making only ever so slightly.
It was still enough to help her doze off again, because the next time she opened her eyes long enough to focus on the alarm clock, it was almost half past nine.
She tried to stay put and enjoy his closeness for a while, but when she finally got too restless, she extracted herself from Haymitch's arm and from the bed as carefully as she could and walked to the bathroom.
Since it was also her last morning before she had to leave the penthouse and return to her own apartment with its tiny and less extravagant shower cabin, she took her time and enjoyed all the luxury features it had to offer just once more, so by the time she turned the hot water off, she could barely see herself in the mirror from all the steam she had produced.
Not that she needed it that much.
For any other lover she would have put some makeup back on, but for Haymitch she decided to skip that.
She's got to learn and enjoy some of his kinks throughout the years, and since she knew that seeing her without any makeup wasn't some weird fetish of his (like it was with some freaks she has had the bad luck of encountering in the past), just the silly notion that one's true face could only be the one they were born with, she sometimes let him catch her wearing nothing but what had been permanently etched to her skin.
Deciding that if there had ever been an occasion that had called for a bare face, this was it, she just rubbed in some moisturizer, put on a bathrobe and set out to wake him.
Unfortunately, she was way too late; he was already up and grumpy.
"Finally," he groaned. "I was beginning to think I'd have to leave without so much as a kiss."
"I would never let that happen," she teased, walking up to the bed where he was sitting with his back against the headboard, wearing nothing but the sheets and with legs wide apart.
"Good," he said with a nod. "Then I didn't eat two of these for nothing." He shook the small tin box of mints in his hand before he put it back on the bedside where she had been keeping it in case they woke up too hot for each other to bother brushing their teeth first.
"No, you didn't." She dropped her robe, kneeled on the bed and crawled up to him, positioning herself between his thighs and kissing him on the lips.
Despite the alpha male stance that he took he let the kiss remain a soft, almost chaste one, and she was almost sure it wasn't just because she was pinning him down by the sheets.
Knowing that it would be long before she could do it again, she let her hands wander wherever they pleased on him so that she could etch every inch of his skin into memory, and soon she couldn't help wondering if Haymitch was subconsciously doing the same thing, because his fingers seemed to be everywhere too, moving along her spine, grabbing her waist, caressing the back of her thighs.
As they slowly ran along her calf, Effie curled her toes as tightly as she could and braced herself for the impact so that she wouldn't accidentally knee him in the crotch if he forgot how ticklish her feet were, but he either remembered or read the signs well enough, because when he reached her ankle, he halted there for a moment but then turned around to find safer parts to caress.
She, on the other hand, needed no extra warning to stay away from the scar across his abdomen.
Oddly enough while he had categorically refused to get rid of it as much as any of his many scars he had collected before, during or since the Second Quarter Quell, he proved to be more than a little self-conscious about the one he had received in the arena. Throughout the years she had often seen him pressing a hand against it absent-mindedly, almost as if it was still hurting him, but he hated when she asked about it, accidentally touched it, or god forbid, tried to kiss it, so she had learned to leave it alone quickly enough.
Fortunately, the rest of his body was always literally up for grabs, so when she felt like she couldn't take any more of his lingering caresses, she reached between themselves and started getting him ready.
Not that he was in any need of help with that, she just wanted to do it one last time.
He seemed more than happy to let her have her way with him and put his head back against the headboard with his eyes closed, and she enjoyed watching him biting down on his lips every now and then. She didn't even reprimand him when he couldn't stay silent any longer and the f-word slipped through his clenched teeth alongside her name.
But when he swore again and buckled hard against her touch, she ignored his needy grip on her waist and started backing away.
"Where are you going?" Haymitch groaned as he looked up at her.
"Don't worry," she whispered. "You'll enjoy it." She licked her lips meaningfully. She still wondered if there had been anyone else who had ever taken him fully in their mouth, because every time she had done that to him the amount of monosyllabic obscenities that left his could have filled a whole page.
"No," he argued in a thick voice before he cleared his throat and adjusted his grip on her so that he could pull her back towards him. "I need to get inside you."
The bluntness of that confession took Effie more than a little off-guard, but she steadied herself with both hands on his upper arms and raised her brows with a smile. "Well, if you need to…" she mused.
"I do," he replied, and before she could have said anything else, he moved her to the side so that she would have no other choice but to lie down on the bed.
He didn't even give her time to turn around either; he followed her right away to kneel between her legs and nudge them further apart. It wasn't the most ladylike way to be taken, but when he caressed her butt, Effie arched her back readily so that he'd have better access and he needed no further invitation.
She let him stay upright for a while, but soon she felt she needed him to get closer. Fortunately, she only had to touch one of his hands holding her by the waist to make him lean forward so that his chest would rest against her back.
"Like this?" he said with his mouth against the back of her shoulder before he kissed it, sneaking an arm under her and pulling her even closer.
"Yes," she breathed as he filled her completely then started moving again. "Yes."
Soon it was almost impossible to tell if her sighs and whispers were making him pick up the pace or it was the way his thrusts were getting faster and harder that made her louder, but when he finally pushed her over the edge, all she could utter was a barely audible whimper coming from the back of her throat.
"God, I hate when you are holding back." Haymitch put his lips so close to her ear that they brushed against it slightly as he spoke, sending another pleasurable shiver down her spine.
"I'm not–" she tried to argue, but let her protest trail off and transform into a low moan when he buried himself deeper and came with a groan.
He stayed close for some time, panting hard against the back of her neck and only rolled off her when he could no longer keep himself supported on his elbows under and beside her. He didn't go too far though, so all she had to do was turning to her side, and there she was, snuggled up to him with one of his arms around her torso and the other under her head.
She knew they didn't have that much time left, but she still felt cheated when the alarm went off on the bedside and sat up to turn it off with a disappointed groan.
"Well, see you in five months," she cleared her throat as she could feel Haymitch following her lead and sitting up beside her. "Have a safe journey." She leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek before she went on and hugged him, because even though it had been just an on and off thing, ever since they had started sleeping together, she had started preferring saying goodbye in private.
"Thanks," he replied, caressing her back. "And you… for once you should stick to this colour longer than a week," he added, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear when she finally let go of him.
"Oh you bet I'll stick to it," she laughed out. "My hairdressers had to try three different mixes for the base colour alone…!"
He made sure to let her know how little he cared about the difficulties of finding the perfect shades of peachy pink to match her eyes and skin tone so that she could remain stylish even without a wig on by a nonchalant hum and a shrug, but then he ran his fingers through it and spoke again:
"It suits you."
Effie couldn't tell if it was because it was such a high praise from someone who drew the line at soap and toothpaste when it came to essential beauty products or because she was getting overly-emotional, but when she kissed him in gratitude and he wrapped his arms around her, she didn't even think of brushing them away. Him being its only passenger guaranteed that the train would wait for him no matter how late he would end up being. There was no harm in letting their goodbye last a little longer.
As always; thanks for reading and please let me know what you think of it!
Since there's every chance I'll get sucked back into the fandom of Star Wars by the end of the week, it could take some time before posted anything new here. But whatever happens, next December we'll get another good for nothing mentor figure from Mr Harrelson in the Solo-spinoff, so I'm pretty sure I'll be back. :D