Prompt : Hi, I'd like to leave a smutty(ish) prompt if that's alright? Effie and haymitch turning each other on in public ;) Could potentially be one of those 'five times... and one time...' fics ?
Warning for some steam bordering on smut. Also, sorry but today my brain seemed to be fried so I'm not sure my proofreading was great and I'm not sure this is actually readable.
Five Times They Teased Each Other In Public And One Time They Got Caught
1.
Effie Trinket was a tease.
Haymitch had known that perfectly well even before they had started falling in bed together when the fancy struck.
Effie Trinket was a tease, always had been and always would be.
That was why he went on drinking, barely listening to what Chaff was droning on – he didn't really care for the latest gossip regarding District Two's victors – and pretended really hard he wasn't watching the show. There was no way she wasn't doing that on purpose. She had moved into his line of sight – twice – and she was glancing at him each time she could get away with it.
She was talking with a sponsor, her head was tilted on the side so her throat was completely offered, the fake strands of her wig were pinned high, and she kept rolling her glass along her neck in a pretence to cool down. The sight was riveting and Haymitch had every difficulties looking away. His mouth was parched and the whiskey wasn't making it any better, all he could think about was what he would like to do to her at that second. He was wavering between wrapping a hand around her throat – not to hurt but to anchor – and biting the flesh so hard it would leave a mark. He would do other things to her too, like bend her over one of the tables and…
His pants were getting very tight.
He shifted in his seat, angry at himself for getting caught up in her little game, and resolutely stared at his glass. Fortunately, Chaff didn't notice his discomfort.
She was a tease.
And she would be the end of him.
2.
Victory parties weren't really Haymitch's thing. He found it difficult to celebrate the luck of another District when his own tributes always died within minutes of the beginning of the Games.
Still, there was one thing no one could deny the Capitol : they knew how to party.
The club was dark and loud, the buzzing of the crowd almost enough to cover the insufferable music blasting from the speakers. It was packed too, going from one part of the club to another was taking entirely too long. He had gone to the bar for a refill but had now been trying to get back to his table for almost a full fifteen minutes.
He spotted Effie leaning against the metallic guardrail upstairs and gave up on Chaff. He had less difficulties getting upstairs, people were all wriggling on the dance floor. She was alone, free of her usual gaggle of friends, and staring at the dance floor, lost in thoughts. That corner of the club was especially dark, she never saw him coming.
She startled when his hands grabbed the guardrail on either side of her and his chest pressed against her back but she relaxed almost instantly. With a smirk, he pressed harder against her, she simply pushed back.
"You do that with everyone or is it just me?" he snorted in her ear, one of his hand let go of the railing to run on her thigh.
"Let's get out of here." she suggested, already out of breath.
"Why?" he teased. "It's nice up here, isn't it?"
He slowly tugged on her leg so the angle was better.
"Haymitch." she growled. Still, keeping it as covert as possible given the position they were in, she leaned further against the guardrail and she pressed back against him in a sinful way. He was throbbing with need at that point but he wasn't aroused or drunk enough to do that in a crowded club. She, on the other hand, seemed to think a quicky in a public place was completely acceptable. He wondered if she had done it before and decided he didn't want to know. So, instead, he slapped her ass and stepped back, ignoring her startled yelp.
"Sorry, sweetheart." he smirked. "I have a date with a bottle of whiskey."
Alcohol would be a lot less satisfying than her body but the dark look on her face and the murderous glint in her eyes made it all worth it.
3.
"That's really not dancing." Chaff chortled in his drink.
Haymitch was trying to keep his cool and not mind that his escort was – again – making a spectacle of herself with a sponsor.
"Mind you, if she keeps it up like this you might actually get money out of it." Chaff continued, watching Effie with interest.
She was all over that guy – Haymitch was very sure that couldn't possibly be called dancing. She was pressing her chest against his, wriggling up and down, his hands were everywhere on her body and she was letting him… Not that she wasn't in her right to do that, after all she and Haymitch only had an agreement, nothing exclusive. But he was seething a little more with each passing second.
"Well… Someone is up alright." Chaff snorted, nodding at the sponsor and that was the last straw for Haymitch.
His friend startled when he got up and marched to the dance floor – a first in his long years as mentor certainly. He didn't bother with civility, he tapped the guy on the shoulder, mumbled a "Do you mind?" that was so threatening the guy did a double take and disappeared without a single moment of hesitation.
"Coward." he scoffed after him, grabbing Effie by the waist and pulling her to him.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and swayed to the music but she looked displeased. "Did you have to do that? I had him exactly where I wanted him. I would have secured an offer before the end of the night."
"Before or after you had let him fuck you?" he growled.
She studied him for a few seconds and then shrugged. "He was quite handsome, I wouldn't have minded."
He held her tighter. "I mind. You don't do that for money."
"Maybe I fancied him." she hummed, pressing herself closer to him than strictly necessary. "Are you jealous?"
"No." he lied through his teeth.
"So you do not mind that I was letting him grope me or that I was so close to him I can tell you exactly just how much he was enjoying our dancing…" she teased. "Or…"
"Shut up." he ordered.
"Make me." she challenged. Her swaying was completely off beat with the music., it was slow and seductive and entirely too intimate for public dancing. Naturally, he found himself aroused before long.
He could have sworn that was what dancing with the Devil must have felt like.
All the more so when she sauntered away with a grin on her lips once the song was over, leaving him alone on the dance floor with a throbbing hard on.
He walked back to his table, grateful the pants were loose enough and that no one was never paying attention to Twelve's drunkard. Well… No one except Chaff.
"Shut up." he warned his friend.
"Didn't say anything." Eleven's victor snorted mockingly.
4.
Victory Tour was as stressful as it was boring and Haymitch couldn't wait for it to end.
Fortunately, there were distractions to be had.
Dinner on the train was his favorite time. Not only was there plenty of wine but he had found a new hobby : trying to figure out just how far he could push Effie before she snapped.
He invented a new torture every night.
That night, for instance, he hooked a foot around her ankle and when she failed to shrug it off without alerting the whole table, he ran it up and down her calf. She was talking, ranting about how they were half an hour behind schedule and how catastrophic it was. Portia and Cinna were sympathetic but the kids were talking together in hushed voices and very much not listening.
Effie wasn't paying enough attention to him for his taste.
He leaned back in his chair, his glass in his left hand, his other hand casually slipping under the table… Cinna shot him a look but Haymitch was very good at keeping a straight face and the stylist eventually went back to his conversation with Effie and Portia. Once he was sure he could get away with it, he placed his hand on Effie's knee, kneading and squeezing until she tried to kick him off. He slid his fingers higher, only pausing when they brushed the hem of her dress. He stroke the skin along the edge of the fabric teasingly and smirked when he felt her small shiver.
"Are you alright, Effie?" Portia asked, obviously concerned. "You've grown very quiet."
"Perfectly fine. Thank you." Effie smiled. It was probably lucky she was very good at keeping a straight face too because he chose that moment to sneak his hand under her dress.
"What do you think about Amauri's new collection?" Cinna asked.
Haymitch's fingers brushed her panties… Lace of some sort, he mused.
"Amauri's new collection." she repeated blankly, opening her legs to give him better access. "Well… It is… It is…"
Her breath was short and the stylists were giving her an odd look so he took his hand away, dip his fingers in his glass of wine and licked them clean. Nobody seemed to find that weird given his atrocious table manners but Effie glared so hard he almost wanted to ask her if she wasn't afraid her face would remain stuck like that.
5.
The hand she had casually placed on his thigh didn't feel so casual.
The mood, he mused, was bordering on awkward.
Effie had showed up four hours early, as was her habit on Reaping Days, expecting to having to force him to wash, dress properly and, if she had any time left, clean his house a little so it wouldn't smell like animals had crawled in the cupboards to die when he would finally return after the Games. Of course, there was no guarantee he would ever return that year. Perhaps she would draw out his name and that would be it…
That was one of the reasons why he didn't mind the hand on his thigh so much. He wouldn't have anyone looking out for him at the Quell's Reaping but her and that meant something to him. He wondered if the Quell was the real reason for her irritation or if it was truly Hazelle who was the cause of it all.
Effie had arrived as usual only to find him sober, already dressed – in clean pressed clothes, no less – and waiting for her in a tidy house. That alone would have been a shock but, he thought, Hazelle hovering in the background with a pile of clean underwear had been a little too much. He had introduced them, of course – or rather, Effie had introduced herself in a shrill tone that was anything but friendly and Hazelle had answered in kind. He had felt compelled to clarify that Hazelle was only the housekeeper which hadn't gone well with either women.
Then he had flopped down on the couch and Effie had taken the seat right next to him, leaving Hazelle to sit in one of the armchairs since the two women were making – extremely cold – small talk. At some point Effie's hand had landed on his thigh – not his knee or his arm, he had noticed, but his thigh. The gesture had seemed casual but it felt strangely purposeful, a claim.
She talked to Hazelle about the weather and never once glanced at him but the hand stayed where it was, her thumb sometimes moving up or down. It wasn't meant in a teasing fashion, or at least he didn't think so, it was distracted, almost a second thought but every time Hazelle's gaze strayed to her hand, Effie stood a little bit straighter as if ready to strike.
She was all ruffled feathers, defensive and protective all at once, and he hadn't been aware he had that kind of kinks before but seeing her acting so possessive turned him on to the point he forgot to worry about the Quell for a few minutes.
Hazelle eventually excused herself after a painful ten minutes chat and he found himself alone with Effie. The second the front door closed on his housekeeper, she took her hand away.
"I should go and check on the children." she declared.
She wouldn't meet his eyes and her voice sounded frail. He couldn't tell if it was because of the way she had just acted or if the ghost of the Quell had caught up with her.
"You're hot when you're all jealous, sweetheart." he taunted anyway.
She flashed him a teasing smile but it was soon replaced by the overwhelming sadness he would soon become very familiar with.
6.
Over the years they had become very good at getting away with teasing each other in public. It had become a game : who could leave the other the most frustrated. People were naturally unobservant and never seemed to glimpse what they didn't expect to see – and no one expected to see Haymitch or Effie doing anything else than shouting abuse at each other.
Thirteen was no different.
The briefing room was so packed there weren't enough chairs for everyone, leaving a lot of people standing up. Haymitch found a place at the far end of the room where he leaned against the wall, Effie appeared at his side a few minutes later. He tried to follow President Coin's speech but Alma Coin's regular reunions about order in the District were boring at best and unnecessary at worst.
He honestly didn't think anyone in that room was truly paying attention to him so he had no problem indulging in this new game of his. His favorite thing in Thirteen was probably the fact that Effie was forced to wear pants on a regular basis. He had never seen her wearing pants before they came here and while he enjoyed her usual short dresses and skirts, there were advantages to be found in her new outfit. For instance, he could slip his hand in her back pocket discreetly enough that no one in that room noticed he was groping her. She moved closer so she could put her own hand in his front pocket, all the while looking attentive and captivated by the speech.
Haymitch gave a quick look around but they were at the very back and the only one who could have noticed anything – Plutarch and Bogs – were at the front.
They fooled around for a little while, until it became too much and Haymitch regretfully stepped away so he could recover – just in time too because Coin was wrapping up her briefing.
"Haymitch, Miss Trinket." the President called out to them when everyone was leaving.
They glanced at each other but lingered behind. Given Coin's glare, Haymitch felt as if he had been sent to the principal's office.
"Is there a problem?" Plutarch frowned, clearly confused by what was happening.
Effie jutted her chin in the air that little bit higher, always defiant when faced with Coin. Haymitch wished the Gamemaker and Boggs had left with everyone else because he had an inkling he and Effie hadn't been as discreet as they had thought they were.
"This is a military compound and we are in the middle of a war in case you didn't notice." Coin spat. "Briefings exist for a reason so I would thank you to pay attention and, more importantly, to keep your hands to yourselves."
Haymitch smirked, the double-entendre not lost on him.
Coin glared harder, Effie nudged him in the ribs and Plutarch shot them a puzzled glance.
"Such immaturity." the President hissed.
"We do apologize." Effie was quick to say before Haymitch could get them in worse trouble. "It won't happen again."
"See that it doesn't." Coin snapped and gestured for them to step out.
"She shouldn't count on that." Haymitch snorted once they were far enough from Command he was sure he could get away with it. "You can't keep your hands off me, sweetheart."
"You wish." Effie retorted, an amused smile on her lips.
It would take more than Coin to stop that little game of theirs.