Nobody requested for this. I just wrote it for the fun of it.
AU. Teacher!Hayffie doing the dirty.

The Proposal

The teacher's room was empty except for a man leaning back on the chair behind his designated table. The table itself was messy with stacks of papers and writing materials strewn all over it but the mess was not what was bothering him.

No, what bothered him was the bottle of bourbon sitting in one of the drawers. His eyes flickered to the drawer and back to the door before it shifted to the clock. The last class for the day ended two hours ago and as far as he was concerned, there were no students left in the compound. But he couldn't be caught drinking again. He was already given countless warning and the next would definitely place him under –

The door swung open on its hinges. Effie Trinket walked in looking harried and breathless.

Haymitch squeezed his eyes shut. Effie Trinket was the last person he wanted to see. He opened his eyes to see that she was still there, striding towards him with a look of determination gleaming in her pale blue eyes.

She was doing it again, he noted. She was wearing that ridiculous tight pencil skirt which made walking seem like such a chore. He understood that she had only started teaching in this school barely a year ago but surely a year was enough for her to grasp the fact that she is teaching at a school and that such attire was unacceptable. How was anyone supposed to concentrate on anything when she was prancing around like a temptress? How was he supposed to concentrate and not to stare at her? Those skirts showed off her curves perfectly and the urge certainly checked in more often ever since she started her employment.

Truth be told, he had lost count the number of times he had brought the matter up to the school council. Clearly, he was the only person with a problem. The rest of the staff did not raise the issue of Ms. Effie Trinket's attire.

"Good that you're here," she hurried to him breathlessly, heels clicking against the floor. "I was afraid you might have left for the day."

"What is it this time, Trinket?"

"Mr. Abernathy, I'm sure you're aware that the school dance is in a month's time? And I hope you are also aware that we are on the organising committee? Have you even read through the student leaders' proposals?"

"What's there to read through?" Haymitch murmured. "Those kids come up with the same thing every time, don't they? It's the same every year, isn't it? Wretched kids in a school dance, a king and a queen would be crowned before the night is over and all of us unfortunate teachers would be call on duty to chaperone these hormone riddled teenagers as if I didn't have anything better to do!"

"Well, you're clearly full of energy and excitement," she muttered under her breath before walking around his desk to stand right next to him. Effie dropped the folder containing her draft proposal on the stack of papers he had been meaning to grade since three days ago.

Haymitch pinched the bridge of his nose. He couldn't wait for the day he could retire and leave this school behind. All he needed to do was find a replacement willing enough to teach his classes and take over his position. It sounded easy but the school's reputation made it difficult to attract teachers and really, the salary's absolutely horrendous.

"Now, see here," her finger skimmed the page before him to land on a lengthy paragraph. Haymitch nodded, not even bothering to read. "One of them thought it would be more interesting this year if the school dance has a theme. What do you think?"

His head swivelled to the side to look at her only to be greeted by the sight of her bosom. Haymitch certainly was not expecting to be this close to her breasts when he woke up this morning. He swallowed thickly and averted his gaze.

Clearing his throat uncomfortably, Haymitch grunted an answer.

"No." He pushed his chair back to stand away from her, grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair along with his car keys. "And I don't particularly care either. We've given them a dance, just go to the event and get it over and done with. Ungrateful brats."

"Where are you going? You can't just leave in the middle of a discussion. That is terribly bad manners."

He turned towards her. "I didn't agree to stay on the clock any longer than my work contract requires. So, Trinket, I believe I can leave."

"But where are you going? I could... Well if you're that eager to be home, I supposed, I could come over and we could discuss this? I am of the opinion that it would be best to submit this to Principal Snow as soon as possible. The finance department would need to go through the budget and approve it after all."

A loud groan escaped his lips.

"No, sweetheart, I'm off to the bar. Can't imagine you wanting to have a discussion there though, would you?"

She stared at him, mouth slightly agape.

"I thought so," he said.

"It's a school night! You can't be drinking on a school night!"

Haymitch slammed the door to the teacher's room and stalked towards his car.

XxX

Haymitch was at the library. It was a perfect solution. Nobody expected the surly, sarcastic teacher to be in the library and it was the last place anyone would bother to look for him. He had a free period and he was not going to have that brief respite destroyed by other teachers' mindless gossips or to catch up on marking his students' essays.

Suffice to say, when he saw Effie Trinket walking among the bookshelves searching for something or someone, Haymitch was annoyed. She found him at the back of the library, arms folded as he waited for her to come into view.

"You better not be looking for me, Trinket."

"As a matter of fact, you're the person I wanted to see," she smiled politely.

Haymitch jumped up from his chair, ready to leave the room when she approached him.

"We have these proposals to discuss," she told him, waving the same folder from the day before. "We need to confirm on one of them at the very least and move things forward."

"Just pick one. I don't care."

"I cannot do that, Mr. Abernathy! It is my duty as their teacher to look through their proposals carefully before selecting the best based on merit. And you shouldn't take this so lightly!" Effie advanced towards him. "This is an exercise for these students; an exercise that allows them to organise and think carefully. To plan and be meticulous and to take into account every –"

She broke off mid-sentence. He could see her eyes widened the moment he grabbed her by the hips and reversed their position. She gave a soft gasp when her back hit the bookshelf.

"Oh!"

"You can't keep that pretty mouth of yours shut for even a minute, could you?" he sneered. "Don't you pause to even take a breath?"

"Please step back. You're making me uncomfortable."

"Am I?" he questioned. "You're making me uncomfortable with your endless prattling. I don't care about the dance or their proposals. I said pick one and I'll assent to whatever it is that you choose."

"You don't – " she sputtered. "You don't care? Why am I not surprised? You seemed like the kind who has given up in life! But I don't want to believe that for a second. You must care about something."

Haymitch tilted his head slightly, looking at her with condescending smirk on his face. How far could be go before she snap? He itched to test the waters and to discover the buttons he could push.

One of his hands on the waist started to wander downwards. He trailed his calloused hand over the swell of her hip, finally being able to touch those curves she kept flaunting at him whenever she walked down the school hallway. It crept down towards the hem of her skirt, fingers grazing the edges of it. He trailed his fingers over her skin teasingly.

Effie squeaked when she felt the skin to skin contact and squirmed. The grip on her waist tightened the same time that her eyes flew up to his. He merely stared at her.

Come on, Trinks, tell me to stop, he thought. Surely he had gone far enough? Why hadn't she snapped at him yet or slapped his wandering hands away.

"I care about this skirt you insist on wearing," he told her. "It looks ridiculous."

She opened her mouth to protest.

"You could barely walk in them," Haymitch went on. This time, his fingers crept under her skirt. His movements were slowly and teasing, as he inched bit by bit up her skin. He felt her shuddered. Haymitch left behind a trail of goosebumps in his wake where his fingers had been.

"So take it off," she whispered.

It was his turn to be surprised.

"What?"

"If you care so much, take it off me," she replied huskily.

His eyes widened. It darted to the left and right as he searched her face to see if she was joking. She wasn't. Effie was toying with the buttons of his shirt and when she realised that she had successfully rendered him speechless, she tiptoed so that her lips were inches from his.

"Why, Abernathy? Cat got your tongue? Or maybe…" she reached her hand down to pull his hand from under her skirt and placed it to the back where the zipper was. "you're afraid. Walk the talk, Haymitch."

Haymitch snapped. In a fluid motion, he grabbed hold of her thighs and lifted her off the ground, slamming her painfully against the bookshelf. His lips closed the gap between them as he kissed her hard. Everything fell naturally then. Effie's legs came to hook around his waist, her nails raking the back of his neck as she returned his kisses with the same ferocity and moans that made his pants tightened.

Just as quickly as he had grabbed hold of her, Haymitch released her, allowing Effie to stand on her own once more. Her hair was disheveled from where he had yanked it back to kiss her. She gave him a quizzical look, lipstick smeared all over her lips. Haymitch said nothing except to flip her back, nearly causing her to topple. She was still wearing those dangerously high heels shoes. Her hand shot out to steady herself, fingers digging into the wood, leaving half crescent mark as prove of their forbidden tryst at the back of the library.

His hand slipped under the top band of her skirt, feeling the satin material she wore. He touched her through it, smiling into her neck when he felt how damp it was.

"What colour?" he whispered. "What colour is it?"

"Lilac," she answered breathlessly.

"No need to be so pretentious, sweetheart. You're wearing purple."

"Please," she whispered.

Except, instead of fulfilling her plea Haymitch abruptly pulled his hand away, breathing heavily through his mouth.

"You need to go," he told her gruffly, peering between the gaps of the books to see several students entering the library.

The bell rang seconds later, signalling the beginning of lunch break for the school.

Effie seemed to realise the situation and was mortified beyond belief. Quickly, Effie straightened out her skirt and tucked in her blouse. Within seconds, she looked as though he didn't just have his hand down her skirt moments ago.

Her cheeks were flushed.

"That was a waste," she licked her slightly bruised lips. "There is much to discuss, in my opinion; issues that needs to be resolved, naturally."

When he didn't answer, she went on. "Students shouldn't be allowed in the library during lunch time," she told him, finally looking up to meet his eyes. "There ought to be a place where our … discussion could take place with minimal distraction. I am open to suggestion."

He stared at her in amazement. She could not be this compose, not after all that and… is she asking for…

"There won't be students here after school hours…" he spoke slowly, "but… your suggestion to discuss this at my place yesterday seems wise now."

"Excellent. Till later then, Mr. Abernathy," she smiled, brushing her hand purposely in front of his pants as she walked past him.

idk. all i did was type.