prompt: HIIIIIII! I hear you taking hayffie prompts and I should know because I read all of them, so... would you write a fluffy one with Haymitch drunkenly mistaking Effie's room for his own and falling asleep on her bed and refusing to relocate? ... pretty pliz? :D

Sleepover

The crash startled Effie awake. She fumbled with the lamp on her bedside table only to blink frantically once it was on, blinded by the sudden flood of light. It didn't take long to determine what was going on. In another time, she would have been terrified – and probably horrified – by the sight of a man stumbling around her room, bumping into every furniture and cursing at them under his breath. It was astonishing how listless she had become about Haymitch Abernathy. She didn't think he could do anything that would actually surprise her anymore.

"Haymitch!" she screeched, already intending to tell him that whatever stunt he was thinking about pulling would have to wait until the next day. She didn't have the chance, however. Before she could start lecturing him any further, he fell on her bed, face first. She barely had time to fold her legs fearing he'd crushed them. "What is the meaning of this? Do you realize how improper this is? What are you thinking?" Not to mention the state of her hair or her face cleaned of make-up… She didn't fancy him teasing her about that for years to come…

Although it quickly became obvious that Haymitch wasn't thinking at all. He crawled in the empty space next to her and glanced at her with very glassy eyes. "What're you doing in my bed?" he grumbled, groping around her for the light switch. She was so flabbergasted she didn't even protested when he flipped the button and her bedroom was once again plunged into darkness.

She collected herself quickly enough and switched the lamp on again. "Your bed?" she snapped. "You're in my bed. In my bedroom. And I would thank you to quickly get back to your room before anyone sees you here."

He opened his eyes again to take a quick and lazy look around. He was either too drunk to understand what she was saying or too drunk to care.

"Sorry, sweetheart." he mumbled, before feeling around for the covers.

If she hadn't stopped him, he would have slipped under the covers with his shoes still on. "You are not staying here, Haymitch." She was definitive. She wouldn't have it. "Go to your room."

"No." he denied, already half asleep. "Too tired. Lights."

She tried to force him on his feet again by pulling on his arm, she tried to push him off the bed, she tried to shake him awake… None of that worked, he was too heavy for her.

She was whacking his shoulder repeatedly in a desperate attempt at making him aware of his surroundings again when he obviously got fed up with her and sneaked an arm around her waist, trapping her against his chest.

"Hush." he shushed her, clutching her close to him like a child would a stuffed toy. She tried to wriggle out of his grip but that only made him tighten his embrace and, in the end, she just gave up. Who knew what sort of trouble he would get himself into if she let him wander around in this state anyway… And there was no way for her to get him from her bed to his when he was in such a shape…

"You're lucky I don't call Peacekeepers on you." she complained, unhappy with the situation. She let out a sigh and made sure her alarm was set early enough that she would have time to kick him out properly before any Avox could see him, then switched the lights off. It was awkward to do this with only one hand, the other was trapped between their bodies.

The second she settled down again, he snuggled up closer, hooking a leg over hers, albeit over the covers, and very much using her breasts as a pillow. "Smell good." he muttered. She didn't know if it was a compliment or a statement but she couldn't help her derisive snort.

"You don't." she wrinkled her nose. "Did you drink wine or did you bathe in it? You reek." And yet, she found herself combing her fingers through his – less than clean – hair.

"Sorry." He patted her hip apologetically and left his hand there. "Don't feel good."

She glared at him in the dark even though he couldn't see her. "If you are sick in my bed, Haymitch, I swear to everything holy…"

"Not that kind of not good." he cut her off, words slurring together. "Sad."

"Oh." Had his drunken self been looking for a comforting presence when he had stumbled into her room?

"Better now." he said, burrowing his face in her neck with a content sigh. "Sleep."

It wasn't long before he was snoring but Effie didn't manage to fall asleep at once. She kept on petting his hair, secretly glad he had come to her because he was feeling upset.