I recently (being the perv I am) read The Mating Games. It. Was. Great. You should check it out, it's by ktface3. Thanks so much for the review and follows, trying to incorporate as much lemons and drama as I can for you! Bringing in Haymitch!
I drive myself home after an immense amount of seductive growling and moaning, planning to tell my mother something, something that needs to be shared. I open the front door, kicking off my shoes with ease, removing my phone from the pocket of my baggy sweatshirt. "Mom?" I call. "Ma?"
I walk around the corner, quizzically, skeptical of the silence. Maybe she went to go get Prim, or maybe she's asleep, shopping? "Mom, where are you?"
"Katniss, I'm out here. Come, I have someone I want you to meet!" She calls giddily, and I raise an eyebrow. Shaking my head, I walk through the kitchen to the sliding glass door, opening it and stepping out. I freeze as I see a man with shoulder length blonde hair and a 5 o'clock shadow. "This is Haymitch, do you remember him?"
"Uh, no." I mutter, keeping an eye on him. My mother chuckles at me.
"He was your fathers best friend. Haymitch introduced me to your dad all those years ago." She explains, and I raise my eyebrow higher.
"Hi there, sweetheart." He says, smirking at me. Now I remember you. "You're a bit bigger than I remember…"
"It's called growing up. Heard of it?" I remember an image of my father, drunk and slurring back when I was young. I know he was with this man when he had taken those drinks, and I never trusted Haymitch even though I was six or seven. He disappeared after my father died in the accident…
I blink rapidly, clearing my mind. "Katniss," My mother says, much like a warning. "Be nice."
"Mom, I wanted to tell you something." I say, forgetting about the all-time drunk standing by me.
"Go ahead."
"Mom," I repeat, "I wanted to tell you something." She nods in comprehension, and excuses herself, telling Haymitch to have a seat. I lead her into the kitchen, turning and looking at her.
"Please make this quick, I was looking forward to catching up with Haymitch." She whispers, crosses her arms. I sigh and roll her eyes, leaning a hip on the counter.
"He's a roaring drunk, mom. Give him some whiskey and he'll wait for hours." I snap, shaking my head and breathing another sigh. "So today, when I went over to Madge's, I didn't know Peeta would be there," I lie, "And so he and I started talking while Madge had to set the table and shower quickly, and he kissed me." I blurt, wearing a teenager-y happy smile.
Her face is expressionless for a moment before she cracks a smile, asking "Really?" I nod vigorously. She grabs my hands in her, laughing. "Oh Katniss, that's great! Is he the blonde one that picked you up the other day?"
"Yes!" I grin at her as she tells me he was a "total cutie". I look over her shoulder, seeing Haymitch looking out towards the sea. "You should, uh, probably…" I nod his way.
"Oh, right. Anyway Katniss, I'm so happy for you!" She kisses me on the cheek, and hurries back outside. I know that was a weird reaction for a mother, but I've never really had a boyfriend before, let alone share it with her so excitedly. I pull out my phone, sharing with Peeta.
I told my mom.
A few minutes later, as I eat a grape, he replies. What'd you say?
I told her. Not about the sex, just that you kissed me. She outside hanging out with some whiskey dependent old friend right now, but she actually smiled. I smirk, thinking about his soft lips and the contrast between them and his demanding growls.
Do we still have to go behind her back? My phone buzzes with his question.
If you want some action, yes. I don't think she'd mind the kissing though. I snap my phone shut as my mother and Haymitch step inside, looking at my goofy expression. "What're you smiling about?" My mother kids, setting down a glass of lemonade.
I hold up my phone, explaining with one word. "Peeta." Haymitch looks from my mother to me, his head cocked. I stand, pulling the hem of my tank top, scratching my neck.
"Remember how you used to do archery when you were little?" My mother asks abruptly. I look at her a moment before nodding. "Well Haymitch offered to help you relearn the ropes. He has a nephew learning a similar technique and he needs someone to keep him company down at the ranch."
Wow. I haven't thought about archery in years, ever since my father died. He used to show me how to stand, how to string the bow and how to clean them. A thought of him smiling as I hit a ten rushes through my brain at once and I swallow the lump that forms in my throat. "Sure." I mutter, snatching my phone off of the counter as it vibrates. Haymitch tells my mother something but I don't hear. I check my phone, trying to erase my mind of my father's memory for the moment.
Well then what're you doing later? Peeta asks.
"Did you hear that Katniss?" My mother asks, grabbing my attention.
"What?"
"Haymitch's nephew has a session today. If you can manage to find your arrows in the attic you can go." She tells me, and I make an 'oh' face. I'm not sure if I'm ready for that, but I agree anyway.
"Alright, I'll be right back." I mutter, excusing myself. I run up the stair to the string that hangs down at the end of the hallway. I consider changing my whole outfit after I get the supplies, but don't think too much of it. I bring down the wooden ladder, climbing up them quickly. I stand folded over forward, searching with my eyes. I dig in the first box but find nothing but those annoying packing peanut things. I throw the box aside, cringing as the insides of the box spill out of the entrance to the attic. I dig through a few more boxes before something sharp pokes me and I hiss, jumping back. I empty the box, seeing something that brings me to the verge of tears. It's a picture of my father and me lying among the arrows that clattered everywhere. I dig around for the sheath and bow, finding them behind a separate box. I struggle to get the arrows into their holster, my fingers shaking from the remembrance of my past. I sigh, shouldering the sheath as well as the arch of black metal, leaving.
Haymitch left after he gave me directions to his ranch which I learned was given to him, not earned. My mother is very careful not to bring up father, barely relinquishing on the past at all. I leave, driving to the coordinates given to me. I sing along to a sad song in the car though I don't feel tears coming on anymore.
There's a long dirt road leading up to a large red barn with paint peeling off of its façade. The car jumps and shakes with the small pebbles under it, and it takes me a moment to realize there's a form resting on the side of the wooden building, black leather boots shining in the sun. I think for a moment that's it's Haymitch taking a swig of his drink, but the legs are much too long and as I roll closer in the family Toyota, I see reddish locks on top of their head.
I pull the car over onto the shoulder, turning off the lovely air conditioning. I reach behind me, grabbing my things and stepping out of the car, into the beating rays of the unforgiving sun. Its warmth soaks through my skin and I bask in the feeling for a moment. I wear boots with a skin tight black t-shirt and loose fitting jeans, already feeling overdressed. I exhale before walking forward, the figure beside the barn still lying motionless.
As I get closer, I can see the finer details of the fine man. His hair is a copper color, tousled and perfect. His skin is tan and flawless, his head tilted back, enjoying the sun. As I continue to approach, it strikes me he's probably asleep.
The top buttons of his shirt are undone, revealing glistening layers of lean muscles. His legs, like I said, are long, as well as his nimble looking fingers. My steps become intentionally quieter as I stand just a few feet away from him.
I jump as one of his eyes pop open, and he looks at me, his irises a shocking, tantalizing green. He closes it again, smiling. "You must be Katniss." He purrs, his voice tantalizing.
"You must be what's-his-face's nephew." I say uncaring of his beauty. His cat-like smile widens, showing off gleaming straight teeth.
"Finnick." He informs softly.
"I thought his name was Haymitch." I smirk, dropping my bow and sheath on the ground.
"Yes it is. My name is Finnick." I nod, sitting on the ground in front of his pretzel style. "You're much cuter than I expected." He mumbles, and I can barely hear him. I do, though.
"Says the man with his eyes closed..." I retort and his shoulders shake with a chuckle. He lifts his head, looking me in the eye.
"Well I was trying to be conscious of my staring." He says, looking down to my chest, then back. "Would you rather I do this?" He grins as my cheeks redden.
"No not particularly." He speaks with a witty sophisticated tongue and I try to match it. It's silent for a few beats as we lock eyes, staring.
"How long have you been doing archery?" He asks smoothly. I pluck grass out of the ground, throwing the blades aside.
"A while. I stopped after my trainer moved away." I lie, unable to share my story with this seductive stranger.
"Getting a new one against your religion?" He kids, having no idea what his words really mean.
"Exactly." I grumble. I don't look up at him, because I know he's staring. I don't feel attracted to him in any way at all, though naturally, I'll admit he's gorgeous. He's so far from Peeta it just feels wrong to look down at his chest or to lose myself in his bright green eyes. "Do you shoot too?"
"Arrows? No." He replies and I look up from the ground, raising an eyebrow. He nods to our left, and I see something I can't believe I didn't see before. It's targets, dummies and even a speed gun I see cops using when I flip out, slowing down. There's something gold, rays of sunlight bouncing off it, leaning against one of the dummies.
"What is it?" I ask, standing, locking my eyes on the shape I can't make out.
"A trident." I can hear the smirk in his voice as I walk slowly towards it, leaving my arrows and bow… somewhere.
"Damn…" I breathe, walking to it and picking it up. It must weigh thirty pounds, and it's obviously solid gold. "How much was this?"
"A lot." He replies, realizing his shirt is still undone, quickly and swiftly buttoning a few up using just his left hand. I raise an eyebrow.
"For me a lot is like a hundred dollars." I say, and he smiles.
"Well I don't know what comes after a lot, but it was that much." I laugh, realizing that he's not at all what I'd thought he'd be. He's sly and dashing, yes, but also quite normal.
"Where's Haymitch?" I ask, setting the gorgeous weapon back down. Finnick shrugs, ramming a hand through his hair.
"The man's a roaring drunk, did you expect him to be here?" He slips up, letting go of the high class attitude for a moment, regaining it as he straightens his posture.
"Uh, kind of."
"Well that's too bad. I'll have to teach you myself." He smirks and I do back. He's playful in a friendly way, and I don't mind it. It's elating to have a guy who's not looking for sex wink at you.