This isn't a prompt (again) but I saw Elizabeth Banks's latest movie, Little Accidents, and it was awesome. It also had a shower scene. A shower scene that screamed Hayffie to me.
Allonsysilvertongue made one too so you should definitively check her out.
So I made it a two-shot. First one takes place during VT, second one after MJ.
There is smut in there so I'm upping the rating to M. Don't like, don't read. =) Drop me a line!
What Happens In The Bathroom Stays In The Bathroom
1.
"We're already late, stop struggling." Effie sighed, her hands full of soap. She was careful not to slip as she advanced on Haymitch. The train's showers weren't as large as the one in the Capitol but they were certainly just as slippery and there was already soap everywhere.
"You're not putting that shit on me." Haymitch sulked, grabbing her wrist before she could make contact with his skin.
"It's soap." she argued, pressing her thigh against his groin. He stopped trying to push her away at once with a defeated groan. She lost no time in covering him with the shower gel, making sure to get every crook and knots of his body. Her fingers lingered in some places, causing him to groan some more. His arms sneaked around her, pulling her against his chest.
"That's flower scented soap." he grumbled, resting his forehead against her shoulder. "And you're cheating."
The accusation was coupled with a finger probing her side, prompting her to wriggle. She didn't need to see his face to know a satisfied smirk was gracing his lips as she tried to escape his arms and he tortured her some more. She was ticklish and he knew all the good spots to make her squirm and beg for mercy. Her giggles grew louder, both because of the teasing and because all her twisting was slowly becoming a torture for him too.
His fingers stilled when she kissed him, his hands sliding easily to the small of her back, pressing her into him. She was covered in soap too now and she nudged him back a bit until they were standing directly under the streaming water. She was content to kiss him slowly while the water rinsed them, fully appreciating the lightness, the rare moment of relaxation during this stressful Victory Tour – life.
She liked him all wet, with his hair plastered to his head, thrown back by careless fingers… She ran her hands through the damp strands, thinking about how much he loved to do this with her own curls…
Showering together was supposed to be a way to save time. She should have known better.
He watched her as she tangled her fingers in his hair, regularly blinking and shaking his head to chase water out of his face. His eyes were darkened by lust but it wasn't the same kind of hunger she was used to reading in them. A year earlier, he would have simply pushed her against the wall and would have had his way with her right there. A year earlier, there was no enjoying a shower together because enjoying something together meant there was more to their relationship than just sex. A year earlier, he would never have let her spread flower scented soap all over his body because not only flowers weren't manly enough, it was also too much her. A year earlier, showering together would have really meant saving time because, once in, she would have locked her legs around his waist and when they were done – quicker than either of them would probably like to admit – they would have washed in a hurry, in a rush to get away from the other.
She didn't know what had changed precisely or when it had but she knew he would tame his current craving, make the moment last because it was too rare and too precious. They were so busy hating, helping or fucking each other, they never truly had time to play.
"Your hair needs washing." she declared absent-mindedly.
"It's already wet." he shrugged, pressing his lips against her neck slowly, leaving a burning trail down her throat and up again, until he could nuzzle her jaw.
"Wet or not is irrelevant." she argued.
He snorted against her cheek. "Not what you usually say, sweetheart."
"Must you be so crass? Take your mind out of the gutter." She whacked him on the shoulder. "It's not because you put it under a stream of water that your hair will miraculously be clean, you know." She was starting to understand why it always looked so unkempt. "You need extra-care shampoo."
He rolled his eyes. "I don't need shampoo. Give me the soap."
"Extra-care shampoo." she corrected, escaping his arms long enough to inspect the numerous bottles of beauty products she kept in her shower, flinging her own damp hair over her shoulder. "Special lotion for greasy hair. That should do."
"I don't need your fancy bottles." he argued. "Give me the stupid flowers soap."
She kicked the shower gel way out of his reach and squeezed a generous amount of shampoo in her hand. It smelt like vanilla and it made him wrinkle his nose.
"No way." he warned her, pointing an accusatory finger in her direction. "I will reek of flowers for a week already. No way I'm smelling like a fucking ice-cream too."
With his back against the tiled wall, there was nowhere for him to go and so, he couldn't flee when she tangled her fingers in his hair again.
"You will like it." she promised.
"You're putting shampoo in my eyes!" he complained but he calmed down when she started massaging his skull, even relaxing a little against her. When he completely surrendered and leaned his forehead against her shoulder, she couldn't help her soft chuckles. He wrapped his arms around her again. "You're the devil." Once, the low grumble could have been meant honestly but the way he mock-bit her shoulder let her know he didn't actually meant it, so she kept on rubbing the shampoo as thoroughly as she could. He even cooperated with her when she guided his head under the water to rinse it off. Of course, he was very busy fondling her so it was a distinct possibility he didn't even notice.
"You need conditioner." she mused, reaching for the bottle on the shelf.
He pressed his chest against her back before she could grab it, his arousal was unmistakable. His hands paused briefly on her ribcage, one wandered up to cup her breast, the other went south. "I need you."
She closed her eyes, leaning against him without thinking twice about it, too lost to the first sparks of pleasure jotting through her body.
"You need conditioner." she moaned. "Now who's cheating?"
She didn't protest his caresses though and she didn't try to push him away either. She let his hands reduce her to a quivering mess, not even minding the low chuckles against her ear. She almost fell when she came apart with his name on her lips, her right leg gave out and her left foot slipped. She would have been due for some bruising if he hadn't hold her back safely against him, bearing most of her weight until she recovered enough to comply with his gentle nudges. She braced her hands against the wall, careful not to slip again, and followed the rhythm his hands were imposing to her hips. It didn't take him long to find his own release.
She waited for a few seconds and then grabbed the bottle of soap again. He kissed her deep, with one of those proud smirks she had come to love, but let her coat both of them with the flowers shower gel again. And when she was done with that, she caught the conditioner and rubbed it into his hair.
He looked too smug for his own good.
"We're going back to bed." he announced.
"No, we are not." she countered, running her fingers through his hair to make sure there was no trace of conditioner left. "We have a big, big, big day ahead of us."
He pouted. "You're going to lecture the kids. They're going to get bored. I will get bored. Let's skip the bored part and go directly to the bed part, sweetheart."
"You're nowhere near ready for the bed part, Haymitch, and you won't be for hours." she pointed out, not unkindly. He wasn't a teenager anymore.
"Wanna bet?" he mumbled against her neck.
"I don't need to bet, I know." she laughed, pecking his stubble covered jaw with kisses. When she reached his shoulder, she sucked the rivulets of water running down his chest. "I will make you a deal, when you are ready, I will let you take me to bed."
"Like you ever said no." he snorted.
"I should sometimes." she sighed.
He drew her closer, under the hot water stream again and kissed her so hard she just knew her mouth would be bruised.
"Don't you dare." he growled.
2.
Haymitch let out a low whistle as he leaned against the frame of the open bathroom door.
"Look what the cat dragged in…" he snorted. "Thought I had seen signs of breaking and entering."
"It's not breaking and entering when you have a key, Haymitch." Effie replied without bothering to open her eyes. The bathtub was full to the rim with steaming water and that foamy bubble bath he hated because it hid her body from view, her head was propped against the edge, her blond hair was damp and plastered to her shoulder and neck where it touched the water…
He couldn't quite help a pleased sigh.
He had come back from the new version of the Hobb to find familiar pink cases in the hallway, sure sign that she was back from the Capitol to "visit the children" – or whatever she wanted to call it because it was never the kids she spent more time visiting.
"You stole that key." he reminded her, taking a swing of his newly opened bottle of wine.
"Peeta gave it to me." she corrected, finally glancing at him. He tried not to notice the bags under her eyes. "The train ride was awful. The air conditioning was broken, I swear I have been craving a bath since we passed District Eight. I have never been so hot in my life."
"Very true that." he smirked, nodding wisely. He walked closer, ignoring her pursed lips and her disapproving – but amused – gaze. He perched on the edge of the bathtub, next to her head, his back against the wall. "How long do I get to keep you this time?"
"It depends if you are planning to share that wine or not." she retorted.
"I don't have a fancy glass available and we both know you only drink wine in fancy glasses." he chuckled, taking a deliberate mouthful of wine. It was red and she preferred white anyway. She slipped further down until water reached her chin and muttered something he didn't quite catch. Not that he needed to. "Smartass, that's the word you're looking for, Princess."
"I think it works well enough without the smart part." she countered.
He snorted, quietly granting her the point. She closed her eyes again and for a while, he was happy to watch her, his eyes trying to guess the curves of her body through the foam, and drink his wine. After a few minutes, he let his free hand drop in the water. His fingers ran down the side of her neck, followed the curve of her shoulder…
Her lips stretched in a smile but she kept her eyes closed.
"Are you tired, sweetheart?" he asked.
"Too tired to even wash my hair." she sighed. "But not tired enough that you shouldn't climb in…"
He smirked at that and placed the wine down by the side of the tub, then he grabbed one of the dozen of bottles that had mysteriously appeared on the side of his tub after the war.
"Sit up." he told her. She glanced at what he was holding, rolled her eyes and pried it from his fingers.
"That's a body cream to apply after you shaved your legs." she said, putting it back into place.
"Then why is in the bathtub?" he frowned.
"Where do you think I shave my legs?" she riposted and he was sure there was a duh implied there. Except Effie Trinket would never resort to something as plebeian as a duh.
"If you could not do it with my razor…" he grumbled. Every time she managed to distort the blades. He didn't know how she did it. He wasn't the most careful of men and he never damaged his razor.
"You shouldn't have used mine if you didn't want me to use yours." she said, distracted by the line of beauty product. Her hand hovered between two bottles of shampoo – they looked perfectly identical to him.
"How was I supposed to know it was yours? You're always bringing me clothes and stuff…" he argued because her logic was flawed. Each time she came back from the Capitol, it was with a full case of new – plain, she knew his tastes – shirts and pressed pants to replace the soiled, frayed or simply lost clothes he owned.
"For one, it was pink." she hummed. "And it was in my vanity case. Use this one."
She handed him a red bottle and sit up eagerly. She liked it when he fussed over her and since it was a rare occasion… Haymitch rolled up his sleeves and set to work. Her shampoo smelt like exotic flowers, it was familiar and soothing. She was almost purring under his fingers when he rubbed the product on her scalp. She didn't even complain about how tangled her hair was getting – and yet he was making such a mess he was certain she would yell at him for when she would try to run a brush through it.
Once he was sure she was completely relaxed, he dipped her head back gently and stole a kiss. She responded at once by locking her arms around his neck. The angle was awkward, his shampoo covered hand slipped against the edge of the tub and he didn't even have time to curse that he was diving, head first in the bath.
It was a mess.
Water splashed over the edge, forming a big puddle on the floor. His legs were dangling out of the bathtub, his upper body was half wedged between the tub wall and Effie, and he coughed strawberry perfumed water out of his lungs. Worse of all was the taunting grin she couldn't quite hide.
"Why, when I said get in the bathtub, I didn't quite mean that…" she teased.
He spat more foam with a glare. "It's your fault."
And he would never do something nice for her ever again.
"I'm very sorry for kissing you." At her tone of voice he knew she was clearly humoring him.
"I banged my head." he grumbled, toeing off his shoes.
"My poor baby." she mocked, not sympathetic at all. She briefly dived underwater to clear the shampoo off her hair and Haymitch seized the occasion to maneuver her so he could sit properly behind her in the tub. It was a tub, not a pool and it was starting to feel crowded. She didn't remain sitting though, she turned, kneeling between his legs, and ran her fingers in his damp hair – it was playful but he knew she was also checking for a more serious injury than his bruised pride. He didn't stop sulking even when she kissed the pout right off his mouth. "Does it hurt?"
"Yes." he hissed petulantly.
Still, it was difficult to stay angry when she was dropping kisses on his jaw and neck – not even commenting upon how he really should have shaved because his beard made her skin itch – swiftly taking care of his sodden shirt. She nudged him back until his neck was propped on the tub's edge and kissed her way down his chest, as low as the water would let her. Her hands were already unbuckling his belt; pulling off his pants, boxers and socks while not breaking her neck took some maneuvering on her part but she succeeded after a few minutes. He didn't move a finger to help and he tried not to look too enthusiastic when she finally got him naked.
"Would you like me to make you feel better?" She batted her eyelashes, all fake innocence and mirth.
"You're very sassy today." he observed.
"It was a tedious train ride." she grinned, delicately catching his earlobe between her teeth. What she could do with her teeth and tongue should have been outlawed and before long another part of him was throbbing with need. As if she was reading his mind, her fingers closed around him, slowly teasing him to a full state of arousal.
It had been weeks since she was in Twelve, though, and he didn't want her hand. He tugged on her thighs so hard she almost toppled over. She tossed him a glare for that – turnabout wasn't fair play, it seemed. There was just enough room for her to straddle him. It brought his face right in front of her breasts which was a perfect position as far as he was concerned, he licked all the rivulets of water he could find off her skin.
Still, he was reminded of why the bathtub wasn't good for wild sex. He had to brace his feet against the tub walls in fear they would slip and he was sure her knees would be beyond bruised before they were done.
She came hard and loud and the sight was enough to send him over the edge.
She flopped on his chest gracelessly, nestling her head in the crook of his shoulder and they lied in the lukewarm water for a while, just content to hold each other.
"We're getting too old for this kind of activities." she said after a while. "My legs hurt."
"The bathtub's too small." he slurred, knowing he would fall asleep if he didn't move soon. "We need a bigger one."
He grabbed the abandoned bottle of shampoo and squeezed some more in his hand, before starting to rub it on her hair again. He could rarely be bothered with shampooing once but she always did it twice. She let out a pleased moan when his fingers slowly massaged her scalp, he moved to massaging her neck, working of the hard knotted muscles until she completely relaxed under his touch. She could barely keep her eyes open by the time he rinsed the shampoo off but she still insisted on conditioner even though she didn't even attempt to do it herself.
He had to help her out of the tub and she gave him a dozy smile when he wrapped a – miraculously – clean towel around her body.
"Take me to bed." she ordered.
"It's sexier when you don't mean to fall asleep as soon as your head touches the pillow, sweetheart." he snorted. He glanced at the mess in the bathroom and decided it could wait the next day.
He had never refused to take her to bed in his life and he wasn't about to start now.