oh my god if you still take prompts i have an idea. Haymitch thought Effie was a bit stuck and shy but when they finally kiss it goes much further and he realizes that she's actually veryyyy naughty. Btw that one shot with Haymitch being shirtless was fucking GREAT omg, that's what gave me the idea. I love your writing ! :D

I'm fusing it with this one

I don't have any specific in mind, but could you write some sexual tension with a kiss set during CF, please? During the victory tour or maybe before/after Katniss' wedding photoshoot... idk :)

Walk away

"How can you live like that, Haymitch?" Effie chided him, moving several bottles from the ground to the coffee table. Haymitch found great pleasure in the way she hold the neck of the bottles by two of her gloved fingers, obviously disgusted. "This isn't a house, this is a pigsty."

He rolled his eyes and leaned against the wall, letting her fuss her full. "You do realize it's not me you're insulting but the woman Katniss insisted I hired to do the cleaning, right?"

She turned her head briefly but went on with her attempt to pick up every bottle. She wasn't cleaning, though, he knew, she was counting the bottles. She did that during the Games too. "I thought it was cleaner under all the garbage. No more dust and it doesn't smell like something crawled here to die anymore."

Yeah, between Katniss and Peeta, his way of living had drastically improved. Katniss had begged him to hire Hazelle and Peeta always made sure he wasn't passed out or choking in his vomit. The boy also forced him to shower once a day and to change clothes everyday – which was less of a problem now that Hazelle was doing the laundry but still. Katniss also usually made sure he ate now and then. Damn meddling kids.

He was too sober for this. He had just got up and he had only drunk a single glass. "Don't you have people to boss around over there?"

"Cinna has everything in hands." She sighed and faced him, suddenly looking less in control. "How drunk are you?"

"Not enough to deal with you." he said, stretching his arms above his head. Did she had to go and wake him up? He wasn't the one doing a photoshoot, why did he need to be up and about? "What's wrong?"

Because something must have been wrong if she felt the need to come here and count the bottles.

"The Quell will be announced in a few day." She was watching him closely, probably anxious about his reaction.

"Yeah." he spat. "If you're going to tell me I will be in the spotlight this year, you can save your breath because…"

"This is not…" She took a step closer, looking distressed. "Well, no, that is true too, but… It's not…"

He frowned, she was flustered and obviously upset and he didn't like that one bit. As he walked closer, he saw the tears shining in her eyes. "Effie, what's wrong?"

He wasn't expecting the fierce hug. Her arms squeezed his neck and he had no choice but to grab her waist in fear of overbalancing. When she didn't give any sign of letting go, he wrapped his arms around her uncertainly. "What's gotten into you, now, sweetheart?"

That wasn't like her. That wasn't like her at all. Whatever it was it must be bad.

"There are rumors about the Quell flying around between escorts and Gamemakers." she whispered in his ear.

"What kind of rumors?" The glass of liquor, his hangover… Everything was forgotten. His head was clear, the fear pumping through his veins was real. "What did you hear?"

"I don't want to tell you. It's silly. Speculations, I hope. It can't be true." she replied, tightening her embrace. "They won't do that, they won't."

He forced her to let go of him, keeping hold of her shoulders, and searched her eyes. "What did you hear ?" There was fear and despair on her face. She was dying to tell him, he realized, but she was holding her tongue for his sake. She was trying to protect him and if it was that bad, he wasn't sure he wanted to know. "Effie…"

"No." she gripped his wrists but he didn't take his hands off her shoulders. "I'm being stupid. What they're saying is ludicrous. I just… It made me worry about you, that's all. It was selfish I shouldn't have said anything."

"Worry about me." he repeated, in a desperate attempt to come back on familiar ground. "Why I didn't know you cared, princess…"

It fell flat.

His fingers were still digging into her flesh but he didn't seem to be able to let go. Her hands were still clasped around his wrists like handcuffs and the tension was gradually shifting from dread to something else. Standing so close to each other was never a good idea.

"I don't." she lied. "I've spent years training you, I don't want to start again with Peeta and Katniss."

"Training me." he snorted. "You make me feel like a dog."

"I'd rather have a dog." she retorted, but she lowered her eyes.

He stepped closer to catch her attention which was a mistake in itself because there wasn't much space to begin with. "Yeah?" They were standing chest to chest and he knew it was time to walk away. It wasn't the first time they had danced that dance. One of them always walked away. Twelve already had a pair of star-crossed lovers, it didn't need another one. "You would get bored without me."

"Inevitably." she breathed out, her hands running slowly from his wrists to his elbows, sliding under the unbuttoned sleeves of his shirt.

"Trinket." he warned. Walk away, he wanted to beg because he didn't know if he would be able to do it that time. It was getting harder and harder every year. The more ridiculous was the outfit, the more urgently he wanted to rip it off her body. The harder they bickered, the harder he wanted to kiss the insult off her mouth. The softer she looked at him when she thought he wasn't paying attention, the softer he wanted to touch her. The dance was coming to a end, somehow, Katniss and her berries had seen to that. The rebellion had begun. Now wasn't the time for…

She tilted her head a little, her monstrosity of a wig looked so heavy he didn't know how it managed to stay in place. "I feel as if the world is going to stop tomorrow." she confessed. "I feel as if we're all holding our breath, waiting for… something, but I don't know what it is, do you?"

She gripped his elbows tighter when his hands went for her wig but she didn't do anything when he started to take off pin after pin. It felt to him as if it was taking forever. "Stop me." he asked, at some point, but if she heard, she didn't acknowledge it. Soon enough her wig was thrown carelessly on the floor, like an answer to her previous question. That was what they were waiting for : the fall of the Capitol. She didn't seem to care about the wig, she didn't seem to care about anything but the fingers he was running through her hair, reddish blond strands that barely reached her shoulders. So much better than the atrocious colors she always wore on her head.

One of her hand strayed from his arm to his chest, retracing muscles that were strong once but that alcohol had made slack. He had trouble swallowing when she seemed to take a decision and started unbuttoning his shirt. She was half-way through when he remembered himself and grabbed her hands. "Sweetheart, walk away." He had intented it to sound as an order but it came out more like a plea. His head was bowed, they were so close, strands of her hair were ticking his nose, he could feel the ghost of her breath rolling on his throat.

"No." she refused. She only had to turn her head for their lips to brush against each other. And Haymitch was lost. There was nothing tender or loving in that kiss. It was hungry and a tad frantic and she did that wicked thing with her tongue that made him moan in her mouth. He had been wrong before, taking her wing off hadn't taken forever because forever was there, in her kiss. It wasn't before she half-ripped his shirt in her eagerness to get him out of it that he realized she was having the upper-hand and that wasn't how he had imagined that going at all.

"A bit impatient, are we?" he mumbled against the side of her neck, licking and nibbling at the skin there. His fingers were actively trying and failing to make sense of the numerous lacing on the back of her dress but he felt a knot give away and he counted that as a victory. "Maybe we should slow down." he teased, placing his hand on her waist but not quite being able to stop kissing her neck. She had a graceful neck, like a swan. And that dress still wasn't cooperating.

"Don't you dare." she growled, turning them around and steering him backward until his knees hit the side of the couch. He lost his balance so he grabbed the first thing he could: Effie. He couldn't help but chuckle when he found himself flat on his back with her sprawled on his bare chest.

"You know, when you yelled at me to get up, that wasn't how I pictured my day to go." he closed his eyes when she straddled him.

Had she planned the fall from start to finish? Given the way she was now happily biting his throat, he would have to say yes.

"Are you up now?" There was a wicked twinkle in her eyes. He wanted to roll them over but he kind of doubted she would appreciate falling on the floor.

"Sweetheart, when did you become such a free spirit?" he asked, breathlessly, while her hands wandered south and really… "Not that I'm complaining." But she was always so adamant on manners and propriety and…

"Perhaps I always was." she winked, quickly dealing with the matter of her recalcitrant dress.

Yeah, Haymitch thought, slightly dazed. No walking away now.