Prompt : Could you do a prompt where Haymitch gives Effie the: "Nice dress. Not yours" line because he really, really wants to take it off her. I love your fanfics. Ok, bye and thank you.

Little Warning, this is a bit steamy. I don't think it's smut though, I've read much, much worse, but if you think the general ratting for the collection of prompt should be updated to M, feel free to tell me =)

Nice Dress, Sweetheart

Haymitch collapsed on a dining room chair as soon as he could. Everything had been done to the letter. The kids were safely tucked into bed, awaiting their transfer to the arena in the early morning, no one was the wiser about the shouting match Katniss and Peeta had backstage and he felt like he could actually do something that year. Even the need for alcohol had been replaced by a strange buzzing energy. He wondered if it was how hope felt like, it had been so long he couldn't quite remember.

Effie wasn't long in entering the room with a heavy folder. He watched, sipping from his drink, as she started to spread an array of papers on the large dining room table. Potential sponsors' personal files, he knew. How she had managed to sneak those out of their proper place, he didn't know but he was grateful nonetheless. It would be a lot easier to target the good ones.

"We could do that in the morning." he suggested. There was no rush. Nothing could be done before they were sure Katniss and Peeta both escaped the blood bath. They were clever those two, perhaps they could make it. Perhaps, this year…

"I will start on my own if you want to go to bed." Effie told him. "I won't sleep either way so let me at least be useful."

He didn't particularly want to sleep. Sleep was something that had become elusive in the last few years, a few hours here and there were enough for him to go on.

He studied her as she leaned over the various papers. She placed some on the side quickly but her hand lingered longer on others while she was thinking. Her brow was furrowed and he resisted the urge to joke about lines and wrinkles. His eyes trailed from her face to the rest of her body.

"This dress is really ugly you know." he snorted, taking in the massive flowers on her shoulder, the cut, the fabric, the color…

"This dress is probably worth more than your house." she retorted, without looking away from her task. She leaned over the table to grab a piece of paper and the skirt tautened around her ass so much he almost hoped it would tear. That would do for a nice sight. An amusing one, too.

"Still ugly." Haymitch shrugged, a bit disappointed when she straightened up and the dress didn't burst.

"So you've said." she snapped. "In front of everyone and our tribute."

Oh, so that was the reason why she had been acting so short since the interviews. He had complimented Katniss but not her. Well… What did she expect? He wasn't one for compliments unless there really was something to praise.

"You should take it off." He sounded innocent enough in his opinion, helpful even, but if the mocking glance she threw his way was any indication she wasn't buying it.

"If your aim was to convince me to do a striptease for you, you really need to work on your method." She shook her head like she couldn't believe it and went back to sorting sponsors.

"Maybe it was." he mused, making the whiskey twirl in his glass but unable to look away from her. Even with those clothes, she had a body to reckon with. It made him want things he shouldn't want, it filled his head with thoughts that had never been that lustful before he met her, it even surpassed the shame and the anger at being so desperately obsessed with a Capitol woman. He couldn't think when he was in that frame of mind. He just wanted those clothes, that wig and that make-up off her so he could feel less guilty about sleeping with the human underneath.

"I like this dress." Her pretty mouth was pinched in a hard line which was a shame because it was usually so soft under his, so eager to kiss back and explore… "You hurt my feelings."

It was delivered with a deliberate disregard that told him it was probably true even though she was used to his barbs and insults.

"I hurt your feelings all the time, sweetheart." he pointed out, propping himself on the table to get up.

"Truer words had never been spoken." she muttered, placing another paper on the growing pile on the left. She glanced at him when he walked closer. "You didn't finish your drink."

"I will finish it later." he told her, coming to stand behind her. He heard her sharp intake of breath when he put his hands on her shoulders, rubbing the tension away.

"The ice will melt." She leaned back against his chest a little. "It will be warm."

"I will get another." he shrugged, pressing a kiss on the side of her neck. "I hurt your feelings, it's more important than a drink."

"Liar." She laughed softly but she still stretched her neck to give him better access to her throat. He wrapped his arms around her middle section and pressed her back against him. "You just want me naked."

"It's not my fault if you're always wearing ugly things." he replied. He slid his left hand under her wig and tugged tentatively. She quickly removed the three big pins he hadn't seen and tousled her real dark blond hair so it wouldn't look as crumpled as it was. Haymitch didn't care about that, he buried his face in her golden locks, breathing in the smell of her flower shampoo. To her endless perplexity he loved her hair.

"Everything I own is ugly to you." she sighed. He couldn't see her face but he could almost hear the pout. "There is no pleasing you."

He ran his hands on her side, searching for a zipper or a row of buttons. Another reasons he hated Capitol fashion? It took forever to get in and out of clothes.

"It's because you just look better naked." he confessed, truthful for once. After all… She was the only Capitol woman he had surrendered to. He didn't care one beat about those supposed 'perfect women' she always compared herself to and he got angry every time she complained about not being thin or young enough. It was in part because there really was more important things to focus on that the way you looked and in part because it was so stupid of her. "You're gorgeous." He turned her around to kiss her properly. She met him halfway. Her kiss was demanding and harsh which meant that she was angrier about the whole thing that she had let on. "If it was up to me, I would never let you wear clothes." he mumbled against her lips, finally finding the zipper carefully hidden between two ruffles on her back. "You would go naked all the time."

Her lips trailed down his jaw, nibbling a bit harder than necessary on their way, probably because he hadn't shaved like she had told him to, and then made their way up to his ear. "For everyone to see?" she whispered, her tone mocking and too knowing for his tastes.

He hated when other men looked at her even though it happened every two minutes. He had never outwardly said anything of course. They weren't exclusive or in a relationship or something equally stupid but… He was a possessive man. He didn't like the idea of her with other people just like she didn't like the idea of him being hit on by pretty young things greedy for a victor's attention even if it was only the drunk from Twelve.

"For my eyes only." he growled against her skin as he pushed the dress off her shoulders. "I would never let you out of my room."

She was quick to get rid of his jacket and shirt, quicker than he was with removing her dress at any rate. "Oh, so I am your prisoner now?" She smiled with obvious amusement, eyes twinkling with mirth, as she started adding to the impressive collection of hickeys on his chest. She very much enjoyed marking her territory.

"Never." he frowned and leaned back enough to cup her chin. Even as a joke, he didn't want to venture into that kind of territory, not when it hit so close to home.

She smiled reassuringly to let him know she hadn't meant anything by it and kissed him full on the mouth. It was slow and messy and he finally managed to get her dress off before she did that twisting thing with her tongue that made him moan. He lifted her up so she would be sitting on the table, knocking a chair over in his haste.

"That's mahogany." she chided him as he started working on her corset. Those things were a pain in the ass and he didn't understand how she could stand them all day long.

"That's a chair." he rolled his eyes. She whacked his hands away, obviously frustrated by his clumsiness and unlaced the corset, sighing in relief when she could breathe more easily. He kissed her again only to leave her breathless, he loved her best when she was panting, her Capitol accent tended to be less annoying then. It crossed his mind that they should, perhaps, relocate to one of their bedroom or, at the very least, close the door but it didn't seem as important to his lust-induced brain as getting rid of his pants.

It was kind of disturbing to have sex with around fifty pictures of Capitol sponsors staring at them but Haymitch swept most of them aside with his arms before it could get too serious. Effie didn't even complain about her work being disrupted. Soon, it was all heavy breathing, small whimpers and low moans.

Mahogany or not, she didn't hesitate to collapse on the table afterwards, wincing in distaste at the collection of papers sticking to her skin. He peeled them off her – not to be nice, just because… Well, because.

"I changed my mind." he snorted. "I like the dress."

When it was in a pool of fabric on the ground.