Hi, I have a prompt for you, hope you can write about it *U* Portia wants Effie to tell her who is her secret boyfriend but she doesn't tell and then Haymitch and Cinna walk in and ask what's going on and Portia tells them that she want to know who is this secret guy Effie is seeing who is the best sex she ever had and Effie hates Portia because now Haymitch is all smirking and stuff. I got this idea when I was watching Friends tbh XDD
Warning, this is crack and there is smut.
Who's The Best?
After the very serious talk about the rebellion Haymitch just had with Cinna and given the general anxious mood that had prevailed ever since the start of the Victory Tour, the giggles and laughter coming from the dining-room cart were a nice change of tone.
"Is he married?" Portia asked just as Haymitch entered the room.
"Is who married?" he asked at once, taking in Effie's partly amused and partly irritated face. The kids were nowhere to be seen but they tended to flee Effie and Portia like the plague when the two of them were in gossiping mode. They had probably found shelter with Cinna in the living-room cart.
Portia's twinkling eyes turned to him with a cunning grim. "Effie's secret boyfriend. She won't tell me who it is. Do you know?"
"Enough with my private life." his escort grumbled. "Am I telling everyone about the broom closet?"
"What broom closet?" Haymitch lifted his eyebrows, turning to Portia. "And more importantly what exactly did you do in the broom closet, sweetheart? I need details."
"Ask Cinna." Portia shrugged, looking smug. "Now, Haymitch, do you know who that secret boyfriend of hers is? You must know, you two are always together and Effie can't keep a secret."
"Clearly I can since you're still asking about it." Effie hissed, folding her arms over her chest petulantly.
"Oh, please…" Portia scoffed, waving her protests away. "All I need is a name, I know everything else. Best sex you ever had, you said."
"Best sex…. Really?" Haymitch smirked, dropping on one of the chair and taking a sip of his flask. "Do tell."
"There is nothing to tell and saying it was the best sex I ever had is a little excessive, not to mention none of this is an appropriate topic of discussion to have at breakfast. Or at all for that matter." Effie snapped in a warning tone, spreading butter on her toast with stiff but precise moves. "Did you have a good night, Haymitch?"
He placed his flask back in his inside pocket and grabbed a muffin at random. "I didn't sleep much but it was a good night alright." If her eyes had been lasers, he would have dropped dead on the floor. He pretended not to notice and bit in the muffin. "Now, about that mysterious boyfriend… Just how good is the sex? Would you say more sex god or…"
"Haymitch, I strongly suggest you let it rest." she warned before glancing at Portia who looked delighted to have found an ally in her teasing. The train, when they had nothing to do, could get boring. "Both of you."
"But I'm curious, sweetheart. Is it good enough you're wishing your boyfriend was here right now?" he mocked.
"Oh, the dinner table…" Portia sighed wistfully. "Kinky."
Haymitch made a note to make sure it was scrubbed clean before the next meal because he was sure now that the idea was in Portia's head…
"As a matter of fact, no, I don't." Effie replied calmly. "Because, if you must know, I don't have a boyfriend anymore. Sex isn't everything, you know. He was lacking in several other departments like tact for instance, so I had to let him go. Now if you will excuse me, I need to check the schedules."
She left without even a backward glance for him.
Haymitch waited five minutes before following. He wasn't sure Portia even noticed, she was too lost in her own thoughts – or fantasies.
She was in her room, sitting at her dressing table turned into a desk for the occasion, comparing papers with bright color codes.
"Go away." she demanded when he came in. "And next time, knock."
She was angry which made him smirk. He loved pushing her buttons.
Predictably, she whacked his hand when he coiled it at the base of her nape.
"I don't know what you think you are doing but I can guarantee this isn't happening." she hissed. "I don't enjoy being embarrassed in public or…" Her rant finished in a sharp intake of breath when he pressed his mouth against her neck, licking and nibbling rather than kissing. When his lips found their path blocked by the collar of her dress, he simply knelt behind her to get a better angle and unzipped it without any ceremony, continuing his slow trip down her spine. The clasp of her bra didn't resist him.
She watched him in the mirror, making no move to stop the dress from pooling around her waist.
"Just how good?" he taunted, lingering at the small of her back, sucking and biting the skin in turn until it turned a lovely shade of red.
"Not good enough for me to forgive you." she declared, stubbornly.
That was alright. He could play that game. He stood up and didn't miss her sudden startled look in the mirror, it morphed into irritation once again when he hauled her up and nudged her toward the bed.
"Haymitch." she growled.
For all her protesting, she didn't make a single attempt to stop him when he pushed her on the satin comforter or when he ripped the remaining clothes off her body.
"Really, I am angry." she scolded him.
He watched her, all naked creamy skin and random love bites from the previous night, and he smirked wider.
"How good?" he asked again, nudging her legs apart with his knees.
"Not as good as me." she challenged.
"Not the point, is it?" he snorted, dropping to his knees.
Her soft gasp when he pulled her legs over his shoulders was music to his ears but not as much as her sharp intake of breath when he pressed his lips against her inner thigh and slowly edged his way closer and closer to where she truly wanted his mouth until…
"Haymitch."
"So if I'm not the best laid you ever had…" he said, stopping his ministrations.
Her legs locked around his neck in an inescapable grip before he could even pretend to stand up.
"If you don't finish…" Effie threatened, propping on her elbows to glare at him. Desire and fury mixed in her eyes and it almost drove him mad, almost convinced him to stop that little game, get rid of his clothes and make her his again right there and right then.
"Say, I'm the best." he demanded instead, playfully biting her thigh.
She glared at him for a few seconds, obviously debating between denying herself what she wanted more and her pride, and then fell flat on her back, arm outstretched either side of her in utter defeat.
"You are the best." she sighed. "Now do something, Haymitch."
He so loved beating her at this kind of games, he thought, smug like the cat who – literally – ate the cream.