So this isn't a prompt but I can't get the movie out of my head. Thirteen wasn't totally like I imagined it but the second I saw the Everdeen's compartment – that didn't look at all like what I imagined – and even Effie's, I have been having hayffie ideas. Those sliding doors for one, are a bad idea XD

Anyway, this is a stupid story that takes place in movie verse. There is no spoiler whatsoever BUT there is SMUT (not very heavy smut but smut nonetheless) so for this one I'm bringing the rating up to a M.

You are warned!

Awkward Meeting

Haymitch slid away from her body and flopped on the floor without much ceremony, laying down on his back and trying to catch his breath. Effie was still leaning against the wall, eyes closed, panting heavily, covered with sweat, in all the glory of her naked self.

He watched a drop of sweat roll down her neck and disappear between her breasts and he coiled a hand around her calf, tugging gently.

"I am not rolling on the floor like an animal, Haymitch." she protested without even opening her eyes.

He tugged harder, catching her before she could hurt herself and ignoring her shriek, pulling her on top of him.

"Roll on me, then." he smirked, kissing her without leaving her time to ponder the thought or move away.

She kissed back, messy and frantic as if there would never be enough time to get their full. Maybe there wouldn't. He didn't think he could get enough of her. Sometimes, in that dark and empty room they called a withdrawal room – he tended to call it a cell – she was all he could think about : her body, her skin, her lips…

The kisses were much too fierce, it was the kind that usually lead to what they had just done against the wall not the after sex lazy ones. She moaned against his mouth when his hands trailed down her back and up again, brushing her hair aside so he could access her shoulder. He carefully sank his teeth in the tender skin there, relishing in her arching back and her soft whine.

"So eager… You want a round two so soon?" she asked, still breathless. "I do like you better sober."

He wasn't ready for a round two but that didn't mean he couldn't give her a round two, he mused, nibbling on her throat. They had taken his liquor and his knife from him and had made sure he couldn't find any other form of escape… This, however, this they couldn't take away. Effie was his only mean of release now, of forgetting, and he was reluctant to let that go so soon.

"No marks…" she warned him, sitting back on her heels to watch him.

It was a good thing there was no mirror in his compartment – as well as none of those windows giving on the corridor he had glimpsed in Katniss' living area – because her body was covered with reddish spots. His back was stinging though so she had probably scratched him too and more than once.

He grabbed the metallic pole supporting the bunk bed and pulled himself up so they would be chest to chest. His lips latched on her throat again, slowly dropping lower and lower…

She shifted until her legs were wrapped around his waist and he instinctively wrapped his around her.

"That's new." he commented absent-mindedly.

"It's uncomfortable, that's what it is." she grumbled, only to let out a satisfied sigh when his mouth finally closed on her right breast. "The floor is hard and cold, Haymitch."

"Let's move to the bed." he suggested, not caring much about their whereabouts. His compartment was already a mess of discarded clothes.

"The ceiling is too low." she replied. "We will bang our heads or we will fall from the bed and break our necks."

He chuckled, pressed a kiss against the hollow of her throat and found her mouth again, forcing it open only to silence her.

She squealed when he pulled her down and rolled on her, forcing her naked back in contact with the admittedly cold floor.

"So fussy, Princess…" he snorted.

Effie was never one to be upstaged or outsmarted though. She rolled them over until she was straddling him again and he was starting to think he might have been able to get ready for round two after all.

"I will have you know that I am not fussy, I simply have high expectations." she huffed, exploring his chest with her hands. Her wicked grin promised a thousand sweet tortures. "You should…"

The single knock at the metallic door was immediately followed by the said door sliding open and it was all Haymitch could do to sit up and scramble around for a piece of fabric.

"Haymitch, I need…" Plutarch started only to stop and gape.

Effie, to her credit, didn't shriek or scream. She tore the shirt away from Haymitch's hand and wrapped it around herself. Her cheeks were crimson.

"Don't you know it is customary to wait for people to invite you in after knocking, Plutarch?" she hissed. "I would expect such rudeness from those District cavemen but from you? I would have thought you had better manners, you weren't raised in a barn after all."

Plutarch was still gaping and above all staring.

"Do you mind?" Haymitch barked, wrapping another shirt around Effie just in case anything was visible. He didn't care much about being exposed himself but he cared a lot about the Gamemaker ogling his escort.

"I… I do apologize." Plutarch stammered. "I thought you were alone and I didn't know you two…" Probably realizing he wasn't helping his case, he finally turned around and cleared his throat. "I will wait outside."

"Please, do." Effie snapped.

As soon as the door was closed, she was on her feet, hurrying to get dressed again.

"Plutarch is the worst gossip." she muttered, trying to put her pants on and slip her foot in her boot at the same time. "The whole District will know before an hour has passed. Honestly, Haymitch, couldn't you remember to lock the door?"

He rolled his eyes, carelessly buckling his belt. "My hands were full of you. I had other things on my mind."

"I swear your mind is perpetually in the gutter." she spat. "No common sense. Not the slightest common sense. How are we going to handle this, I wonder? Oh, I know… You won't say a thing and expect me to handle it like you always do."

Her sarcasm was strong and he couldn't help but snort. He wrapped an arm around her waist, tugging her closer despite her struggling, and planted a kiss on her lips.

"Let him talk." he shrugged. "Who cares?"

She frowned slightly, tilting her head on the side. "You usually do."

He didn't have a good answer to that so he kissed her again and handed her the scarf, knowing it would distract her for a while. He was mistaken, she wrapped it around her hair in a matter of seconds, placed her ridiculous pink glasses on her nose, headed to the door, took a deep breath, and strutted out like she was Queen of the District without a glance for the Gamemaker.

"Stop looking at her ass." Haymitch growled, once she was out of earshot.

Plutarch lifted his two hands in a defensive gesture but his guilty face betrayed him. "I was wondering why you were so insistent we brought her on board…"

The Gamemaker's little knowing smile was annoying.

"I brought her for Katniss." It wasn't a lie, just a small part of the truth. He had brought her for Katniss and for himself because he was a selfish man and he had known ever since the Quell announcement he would need her at some point. Besides, if she had been killed or imprisoned, it would have destroyed him.

"If you say so." Plutarch offered gracefully.

The knowing smile didn't disappear and it infuriated Haymitch to no end.