Prompt : Thanks to the anon and your reply I beg you to write something about the scenario you just invented, Haymitch and Effie and sizes. Please please please please please. Let us all have some fun!

This prompt comes from a – eeer… scientific – ask on tumblr in which someone asked me how big Haymitch was (if you catch my drift). I said average, then someone else said from pictures on internet Woody (and thus H) was above average and so we were reminded of Elizabeth Banks' video about sizes (on her you tube channel). And I said, Effie would mock him and he would sulk.

And I can't even believe I'm sitting here, typing this. There is a point in fandom madness you know you've gone too far. This is it.

Also, this is crack and warning for some steamy/smutty time toward the end, as well as heavy discussion about eeeer… penises.

Coitus Interruptus

There was something Haymitch hated and that was being woken up by a shrill sing-song voice.

"Up, up, up! It going to be a big, big, big day!"

He tossed an arm over his eyes a second before she threw the curtains open, too used by now to her morning routine when she wanted him out of bed and groomed for the day. Where were they going that day? District Four? He had lost track of the Tour somewhere down the line. Coaching the kids to act in love while keeping his wits about him when the world was slowly catching fire was exhausting. She would want him especially prepped for District Four though.

"Something's up and big alright, sweetheart." he drawled out, blinking against the light to find her already at his wardrobe, taking out pressed suits after pressed suits and putting them back with pursed lips.

"Aren't we cocky this morning…" she hummed distractedly, taking out a light blue shirt and dark grey pants and jacket. He tried hard not to notice the blue of the shirt was matching her skirt.

He stretched but didn't bother getting out of bed, barely kicking the covers so she could see he wasn't joking. Her blue eyes glanced at his boxer clad body but didn't pause.

"It's not being cocky if it's true." he smirked, wriggling his eyebrows. "Come on, Princess… Sex before breakfast is a sure way to have a good day."

"First, that is not an actual saying." she countered, carefully placing her choice of attire on a chair so it wouldn't get creased. "Second, I already had my breakfast because one of us has to make sure everything is running as it should. Third, you are being cocky."

"I've got good reasons to." he replied petulantly.

"Bragging now?" she huffed, folding her arms over her chest and lifting a judging eyebrow.

"Come and check." he dared her.

She didn't move from her place near the wardrobe.

"I am curious… Do you really think you are especially big or is it something men feel compelled to say to entice a female attention?" she asked very seriously, although there was a mocking grin tugging at her lips.

Haymitch didn't like being mocked but he didn't lack confidence in that area either.

"I'm big, sweetheart." he retorted. "I know it, you know it and anyone I shared a one-night-stand with knows it."

She didn't like that last part. They might only have an agreement and not a relationship but she was possessive as hell and, as much as he was loathe to admit it, so was he.

"I had bigger." she declared, leaning against the wardrobe. "Perhaps the Capitol has other standards in terms of sizes."

He didn't like where that conversation was going. He had hoped to coax her into his bed, not being told he wasn't as good as he thought he was – never mind being told that by a Capitol.

"You never complained before." he growled, completely tossing the blankets aside so he could get out of bed. He looked around for a bottle but found none – obviously she had been busy before waking him up – and gritted his teeth in frustration.

"It is hardly tactful to comment on a man's penis size. I understand it's a delicate subject for most of you." she taunted.

"When they're small, maybe." he snapped. "I'm not small."

He already knew there was no way she would allow him out to have a glass before he was clean, dressed – and if he was particularly unlucky, shaved – so he took off his boxers and kicked them in a corner of the room, ignoring her disapproving clicking of tongue. He was still half-hard from his morning wood, he glanced down and decided there was nothing to be self-conscious about. No woman had ever complained and if he wasn't good enough for Effie Trinket she could go and find herself another fuck buddy. What did he care?

"If you say so, darling." she said in a very placating way, her tone suggesting she was humoring him.

"Aren't you supposed to say size doesn't matter anyway?" he snapped, heading directly to the en-suite bathroom.

"Oh, size does matter, Haymitch." she teased. "Women only say that to reassure men's fragile ego."

"There's nothing fragile about my ego." he muttered, turning on the shower. He waited a bit before going under the stream of water, knowing from experience it always took a minute to get hot water on the train.

"That's for sure." she laughed and it sounded cruel to his ears.

"Yeah, well… Me and my micro-penis don't need you to take a shower so fuck off, Trinket." he grumbled.

"Trinket?" she repeated, more amused than he liked. "Did I strike a nerve?"

He didn't bother answering that, stepping under the water with his back pointedly turned on her. He didn't trust anyone with his back turned and he hoped she, at least, appreciated it.

"Are you sulking?" she teased but he didn't take the bait. He grabbed the soap and went to work instead.

"Haymitch…" she insisted.

He didn't answer.

He heard the ruffling of clothes but with her that didn't mean anything. Perhaps she had decided he need to get dressed before leaving the bathroom or perhaps she was fixing her own outfit.

Of course, when two arms wrapped around his chest from behind, it appeared clear she had just been getting naked.

"Go find another penis to play with, sweetheart." he spat. "Try Cinna. I'm sure he doesn't have a micro-penis."

"I never said you had a micro-penis, Haymitch." she denied, peppering his shoulder blade with kisses. His back was still scratched from the last time they had sex and the water was making it sting. "I like your penis."

"Sure." he scoffed. "You like it but you think it's small."

She tried to force him to turn around but he wouldn't. Of course, that didn't stop her. She simply let her hands wander blindly down his chest and then lower until…

"Leave it alone." he grumbled. "It doesn't want to play with you."

"Little Haymitch always wants to play with me." she argued, letting her fingers trail down his length.

"Not when you call it little." he argued.

"Did I really hurt your feelings?" she asked, playfully biting his shoulder. "I was only teasing, you know. You are… well-endowed."

"I know I have a big dick you don't need to stroke my ego." he shot back, flicking his wet hair away from his eyes. She may have had a point with her constant harassing him about getting a haircut.

"You are vulgar." she sighed. "I would stroke something else if you would just turn around… I might even kiss it… Little Haymitch like being kissed, doesn't it?"

"Stop calling it little." he demanded, finally turning around. "And stop talking about it in the third person, sweetheart, it's weird." He grabbed her hands before she could do anything though. "How many bigger guys?"

She rolled her eyes. "I do not draw charts, Haymitch."

"On average." he insisted.

She pursed her lips and tilted her head in annoyance. "You are well above average."

He studied her, searching for a lie.

"Really, Haymitch!" she exclaimed, obviously annoyed. "Why is it even so important? You know you satisfy me plainly. Isn't that the important part? Why do you men always need to compare your size like it's some sort of competition? I will have you know the way you use it is just as important as how big it is!"

"It's an instinctive thing." he grumbled. "We're always afraid a man with a bigger penis will steal our girls away."

"It's a caveman thing, you mean." she snorted. "Be reassured I won't leave you for a bigger penis. Now, I could leave you because you are acting like a jerk though."

"You started it." he countered, tangling his fingers in her head and forcing her head back so he could lick the water running down her throat. "I just wanted sex. You're the one who started poking at my virility."

"I didn't think it would be so easily shaken." she mocked. Her hands wandered south again but this time he let her. "You're the manliest man I've known." she whispered in his ear before biting his earlobe.

He let out an unintentional growl and lifted her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist instinctively and barely groaned when he pinned her against the wall. He didn't need much more incentive to take her right here and right there, enjoying her small gasp of pleasure. He thrust into her, feeling the burning sensation of pleasure built in him but pacing himself because after that kind of conversation he would be damned if he didn't make her come first…

She was nuzzling his neck with her nose, letting out small gasps and whines, her nails were digging the flesh of his shoulders but he didn't mind, too focused on the quivering of her body.

"Am I your girl?" she asked, her voice strained and breaking in places.

"What?" he grunted, adjusting his grip on her thighs. The water made everything slippery and he didn't fancy explaining to the kids and their stylists how they had both managed to break a limb.

"You said…" she panted but that ended in a mew and she waited a few seconds before speaking again. "You said steal our girls. Am I your girl?"

The question made him pause which prompted her to tighten her legs around him like a particularly violent snake intending to suffocate its prey.

"Move." she ordered in a growl.

So he moved.

But his mind was pondering the question rather than focusing on the task and he lost his footing. He instinctively tried to shield her, taking the blunt of the fall instead but she cried out nonetheless.

"Shit, you're okay?" he asked at once, framing her face with his hands and probing the back of her skull for a bump, or a wound or anything.

"I hit my elbow." she grumbled, bending and outstretching her arm a few times. "You?"

He took his time answering that because he knew what was wrong even before he tried to bent his leg.

"I twisted my knee." he said. His back hadn't particularly enjoyed the fall either but the knee would be a problem. He would limp. Which would raise questions. "We'll say I was drunk."

"Never mind what we will say, I can spin a story." she snapped, waving that particular worry away. "Are you badly hurt?" She probed at his knee and made a face when he winced. "It might be a sprain."

"It's fine." he grumbled. "Help me up."

They managed to get out of there without falling again but it was a close call and he had to lean on her to reach the bed. She inspected the knee again and cringed when she saw it was swelling up. She took a look at his back too and didn't seem pleased by that either.

"You are going to be black and blue in an hour." she declared. "We are never having sex in that position in the shower again."

"Your fault." he complained. "You distracted me."

"Distracting each other is very much the point of sex, Haymitch." she snapped, glancing at the clock. "And we are off schedule too! Fantastic." She rubbed at her face and her smudged make-up. He wasn't as irritated as usual by her rigid obsession about timetables, mainly because she was still naked and very much wet from the shower and it was a sight to behold. "Everything is your fault! If you hadn't been sulking like a toddler…"

"Hey, you should have kept your comments about my dick to yourself." he cut her off.

They glared at each other for a while and then she sighed, tacitly admitting defeat.

"Let me get dressed and I will go find something to prevent bruising." she declared. "I will ask Portia to make sure the children are ready."

Satisfied by her plan to save her precious schedule, she turned back to the bathroom. He watched her glorious naked self walk for a few seconds and then called out, as she was about to disappear in the other room. "Sweetheart!"

"What is it?" she asked, turning around again with obvious irritation. "We have no time to lose!"

He should have been annoyed by her bossy tone but he couldn't help a smirk. "If you don't leave me for a bigger penis, you can be my girl."

She understood the implied statement under the joke and even though she scoffed and told him not to be stupid, her eyes were suspiciously shiny.

He decided it was worth a bruised back, a swollen knee and a hurt pride.