prompt for you: Effie and Haymitch shared the bed few times since their first meeting, after several years of working togheter, however, one night after they've slept togheter, Haymitch realizes that to Effie it isn't just sex.

Mine

Haymitch jolted awake with a grunt and rubbed his face. He must have drifted off. Effie was nestled against him, still naked, half laying on top of his chest, her reddish blond curls spread on his shoulder. Her breathing was deep and regular, she probably fell asleep too. Dangerous business, that.

Her room was dark, the blinds were down. He could feel the light rocking of the train as it rushed to their next destination. District Nine or District Four, he had lost his geography somewhere between two bottles of wine and the growing belief that this Victory Tour wouldn't be enough to get Snow off their case. Effie had turned out to be a perfect distraction to his worries. They had fallen in bed together a few times over the years, after particular difficult Games or in moments of vulnerability when human touch was the only thing that would bring comfort. Victory Tour proved to be as stressful as it could have been and they had instinctively turned to each other to blow out some steam. Sex, Haymitch had come to learn, was as good a way as alcohol to forget for a short while.

Letting out a sigh, he tried to extract himself from under her weight without waking her. She didn't get enough sleep he knew, constantly worrying about schedules or the welcome they would get in the next district… He had barely lifted her arm to escape her embrace when she tightened her hold on him.

"No, stay…" she mumbled sleepily, against his shoulder. "It's cold, you're warm."

He froze, not expecting that kind of invite. He could count on one hand the number of times they had actually shared a bed – each of those had ended up with him screaming bloody murder in the throe of a nightmare. But in any case, it was really different to accidentally fall asleep in someone's bed or to purposely sleep there. If he stayed there… He didn't know why but it seemed like a sort of commitment to him and he didn't want nor needed any commitment. That was one thing he loved in this arrangement with Effie. She didn't expect more than sex from him.

On the other hand, it was pretty cold and he wasn't sure he fancied the walk back to his own room given that he would have to make sure nobody saw him going out of her room. Another thing he had always been adamant about and on which she had readily agreed : nobody should know. His reasons were simple enough, he didn't want to give the Capitol any possible pressure point. As for Effie's… He supposed she was ashamed of sleeping with District Twelve's drunkard.

He settled back down because, he reasoned, he would have time enough to get out unnoticed in the morning and it was freezing when you weren't under the covers. She snuggled against him with a contended sigh that made him frown. When had she gotten that cuddly? She usually left his room or pushed him out right after they were done. They didn't even kiss that much. As a matter of fact, that was another thing he could count on one hand : they hadn't kissed more than four times along the years. She always avoided it when he tried and she never instigated a kiss on her own. There had been the first time, before they had even slept together, when they had been at each other throat a tad too much and ready to kill each other. It was either throttling her or kissing her, Haymitch had chosen the less of two evils. Then, there had been the kiss after their sixth Games together, because she had been crying for their dead tributes and he hadn't know how else to stop her weeping that had begun to grate on his nerves. Of course, the victory kiss when Peeta and Katniss had won. And another one, that same night, after the victory party, in the elevator. That last one had been weird. Haymitch couldn't tell what had possessed him to kiss her. They had both been dead tired, barely able to stay awake and swaying on their feet. She had taken off her heels and they had been dangling from her hand, she had been leaning against the elevator wall, watching the floors number change on the small screen… He had felt a wave of tenderness for her because she had looked frail and sweet and… He had kissed her. It had seemed natural to do so. It was the first time a kiss hadn't led to sex and he didn't know what it meant.

"Cold." she complained, rummaging around for the covers. He could tell she was half-asleep so he secured the blankets around them more properly.

"Here you go, princess." He made sure she was warm enough before closing his eyes, he couldn't help but wonder what new catastrophe would be waiting for them the next day. This Victory Tour was bound to go to hell at some point.

"You called Portia 'princess' too earlier." she said, out of the blue. He didn't know how her mind worked when she was that sleepy but it sure wasn't as sharp as when she was awake.

"Yeah?" He couldn't remember. He probably did. Portia, just like Effie, was sometimes very affected. Making fun of that was his sole joy when dealing with Capitol citizen. "What of it?"

Her grip on his waist tightened, it was quick but Haymitch felt it nonetheless. "I don't like it."

That made him open his eyes in shock. What was that about, now? "What?" That wasn't a very pertinent question but he was gradually falling asleep too and he thought it would be enough to convey his incomprehension.

"You call me princess. Not her." Effie slurred, nuzzling his neck. He hissed slightly when she nibbled on his skin hard enough to leave a mark.

"Effie, careful." he warned. How would he explain that in the morning? She hummed softly in reply but stopped biting his neck to rest her head on his shoulder once more. He pondered on that strange command for a few seconds and then frowned. "Sweetheart, are you jealous?" He twisted his neck to see her face but her eyes were closed and she looked peaceful enough that he knew she wasn't fully there to begin with.

"Yes." she pressed a kiss against his skin. "Mine."

Her claiming him in that possessive tone shot straight to his groin but he put the lust aside quickly, too shocked to deal with that on top of everything else. "What?" Too loud. She startled and sat up, blinking fast. He could see realization dawning on her face and then horror.

"I…" she stammered, no trace of sleepiness left. "I think it would be best if you left now."

There was a flush creeping on her cheeks and spreading down to her neck – really embarrassed then, so probably also very honest in her assessment that he belonged to her. What the hell? Sex was sex. There had never been any misleading on his part about that. He had never promised her anything more. They had been on the same page, there. "Effie, you…"

"Go away, please, Haymitch." She draped herself in the covers to preserve a modesty she didn't have anymore. He had seen everything there was to see. "I don't want to hear it."

She laid back down, her back to him and did her best to ignore he was even there. He was very tempted to snatch his clothes from the floor and go away like she bade him but he sensed that if he were to do so, something would break between them. And he cared about her, he cared about their strange friendship, he didn't want to lose that.

"Effie." He thought he sounded reasonable enough. He placed a hand on her naked shoulder but took it back quickly when she shuddered under his touch. It wasn't the usual shiver or quiver. This wasn't good. "Are you afraid of me?" Something that felt like lead dropped in his stomach. She had every reason to be afraid of him, of course, he had a nasty temper and had taken it on her verbally more than once but… He had thought they had grown past that.

"Don't be preposterous." she sighed, glancing back. "I just don't want to hear the words. I already know what you are going to say."

"Good for you because I really don't." He sat up against the headboard and studied her. She was curled into a ball, eyes shut tight. "What do you mean I'm yours?"

"Nothing." she replied, too quickly.

"Liar." His accusation made her wince. "Talk to me, sweetheart."

"Are you dead set on humiliating me?" she snapped, sitting back to face him. Her flushed cheeks were crimson now and there were tears shining in her eyes but he couldn't tell if it was from embarrassment or anger. Because, oh boy, was she angry… "Do you want me to spell it for you? Do you want me to say the words?"

"I would like you to be clear for once in your life, that's for sure!" he shouted back, forgetting for a second that the walls were thin. "But, don't worry, I'm not holding my breath on that."

It seemed to make her grow even more furious. She was scowling, trying – and failing – to keep the tears at bay. "How can you be so blind?" she hissed. "How can you be so thoughtless?"

"Why everything must always be so fucking complicated with you?!" He threw his arms in the air in frustration. "Why can't you just say what you want to say and be done with it? You are the most difficult woman I have ever…"

"I'm in love with you!" she cut in bitterly, effectively making him fall silent. "I'm in love with you, Haymitch. A child would have noticed." She turned away from him then, snatching her dressing gown from a nearby chair. "Leave now. I don't need you to explain to me how stupid I am or why you could never love me back, because, believe me, I know it all." She got out of the bed and walked into the en-suite bathroom.

He was still sitting on the bed, gaping, when she closed the door softly. His heart was racing in his chest but he couldn't have pinpointed why exactly. Maybe because he was about to lose a relationship he actually cared about, regardless of the sex part. He could find sex elsewhere if he needed too, he would never find another person like Effie who accepted him for who he was with all his flaws. He climbed off the bed slowly and put his boxers back on. There was only two choices now leaving or staying. His first instinct would be to leave, to avoid a conversation that would be both painful and uncomfortable but… Effie was hurting and for some reason, he didn't like that. It made him hurt to know she was probably crying.

The bathroom door opened easily, she hadn't bothered to lock it. She was standing in front of the sink, her hand clutching its sides, head bowed. She barely glanced at him. "Please, Haymitch, go away." she begged softly. "We don't have to discuss this. I don't expect anything from you. You're just as free as you were this morning. Just… Leave me alone, please. All I want is to shower and go to bed."

"It's two in the morning." he said. "It's late for a shower."

She chuckled but it was drained. "Is there a rule that says you can't shower at two in the morning?"

"You tell me, sweetheart, you're the one always spurting rules of etiquette." He stepped in and closed the door behind him before leaning against it. She sighed in annoyance but turned back to face him. She folded her arms but instead of looking stern, she looked as if she was hugging herself. It made him want to hug her instead, to make her obvious distress go away. "How can you be in love with me?" he blurted out instead. There was nothing to love. A lot of things to hate, perhaps, and quite a few to loathe, but love?

She looked pained, as if she knew exactly what he was thinking. "Sometimes, I wish you could see yourself as I see you." she whispered. "Brave. Clever. Handsome too, when you're not completely drunk. Absolutely infuriating more often than not but you know how I love a challenge…"

His mouth felt parched. How long as this been going on? How long had she been… "You don't even let me kiss you." he pointed out, still trying to deny everything, still trying to convince himself it was all a joke… "Why would you…"

"Kissing is intimate." She turned her head away from him. "Kissing is for lovers. Sex is just… sex. It doesn't have to be personal."

Sex was just sex. "I feel like I should be insulted." he snorted but his heart wasn't in it. "Sweetheart…"

"It's alright, Haymitch." She passed a hand on her face warily. "It's fine."

But it was neither fine nor alright.

Kissing was intimate, she said. It made him think back to that kiss in the elevator. He had wanted to kiss her and he had done so without a second thought. It had felt natural to lean in and capture her mouth. It hadn't even grown heated or hungry it had just been… sweet and soothing. He liked kissing her. Her refusal to let him kiss her had always been a source of frustration to him.

"This isn't a good time for doomed love stories, princess." He crossed the small space between them slowly enough she could have gotten away if she had wanted to but she didn't bolt away, even when he took hold of her chin gently to make her look at him.

"Is there ever a good time?" Effie asked with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "It's really fine, Haymitch. I've never thought there was any chance of you reciprocating my feelings."

"That's stupid." He slid his hand behind her neck and stroke her cheek with his thumb slowly. "I'm going to kiss you, now." She frowned but he didn't give her time to change her mind about any of this. "It's going to be intimate and loving and one of us will no doubt regret this moment in the months to come because, mark my words, sweetheart, this will mean heartbreak." How could it not with Snow breathing down their neck? But Haymitch was selfish and he wanted to kiss her. He wanted her. So he leaned in and brushed his lips against hers, pushing her back slightly against the sink. He let her come to him this time around, he let her initiate the kiss. As far as kisses went, that one was by far the best he ever had. He would have been content with kissing her for awhile but as the kisses grew more lusting she was the one who steered him back to the bedroom and the unmade bed.

She took great pleasure in leaving hickeys on his chest, safe from exterior gazes, marking him as hers. "Mine." she growled against his lips again at some point. He didn't know what he found so hot in that simple word but god help him it made him see stars.

"Yours." he whispered against her skin not long after that. He had been for a long time, he just hadn't wanted to see it.