Prompt : I would love it with the power of ten thousand burning Suns if maybe your next chapter of your daily hayffie fic have a drink sweetheart is Haymitch and plutarch talking about ladies and Plutarch's all "I know you love Effie really" and haymitch is obvs in denial and like "I don't know what you're talking about" and plutarch keeps teasing him about it thinking it all adorably hilarious and then Fulvia comes along and haymitch looks at plutarch and realises and then the tables are turned on him
In A Good Way
"You could tell me, you know." Plutarch insisted as they stood vigil in Katniss' hospital room. "I understand why you wish to keep it from our dear President but I wouldn't betray your confidence."
The Gamemaker was always greedy for gossip and it annoyed Haymitch to no end.
"You really think now's the time to talk about women?" he scoffed.
"Why not?" Plutarch shrugged. "The war is won, there is no pressing concerns at the moment – and we should enjoy that while it lasts…" The man rubbed the weariness off his face.
"Katniss almost burned down to a crisp, I still have to figure out how to tell her Prim's dead, her mother is falling to pieces, Peeta is barely hanging there in the sane department, Annie's pregnant and catatonic, Jo can't even take a bloody shower without someone holding her hand, Effie's in a hospital room down the hall, Coin's talking about executing escorts and Gamemakers…" Haymitch added. "Sure, let's talk about our sex lives."
As if he wanted to know about Plutarch's lovers anyway…
He leaned against the wall, keeping his eyes on the badly bandaged Mockingjay.
"Who said anything about sex?" the Gamemaker chuckled good-naturally. "I asked if you had a significant other. Gale's mother seems quite taken with you."
"She's an old friend." he growled defensively before Plutarch could developed that thought. "Nothing more. That's clear on both sides."
"Fine, fine… If you say so." A teasing smile was playing on the Gamemaker's lips. "I don't think her attentions would please a certain someone anyway… I hear our Miss Trinket is quite the possessive lover."
He didn't even want to know where he would have heard something like that.
"Leave Effie out of this." he grumbled, too tired to put in his voice the heat such a comment deserved.
"Come on…" Plutarch nudged him with his shoulder. "I saw the way you look at her. And you were beside yourself while she was missing. I can add two and two together."
"Can you add my fist in your face?" he snapped. "'Cause that's what you're going to get if you go on rambling about her."
The Gamemaker raised his hands peacefully. "I don't see why you're so defensive about it. She's a gorgeous woman."
He was so not helping his case…
Plutarch noticed the glaring and chuckled. "No, no, I am not interested, don't plot my murder just yet."
"Why wouldn't you be interested?" Haymitch retorted, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. "She is gorgeous." It was odd to admit that out loud for someone else to hear. He usually barely managed to confess it to her. "Do you have a secret girl I don't know about?"
That wouldn't be so surprising. He didn't know a lot about Plutarch's private life after all.
He expected the Gamemaker to laugh it off but he simply shrugged. "Let's say I'm not a stranger to keeping a relationship on the quiet side for safety reasons."
And suddenly it appeared obvious. "Fulvia. That's your secret girl." Plutarch didn't deny or confirm it but his smile was soft. "She's a scary one." he commented, going back to observing the girl.
"Is Effie scary?" the Gamemaker insisted.
Haymitch wasn't oblivious to what the question entailed but he found himself sighing all the same.
"Yeah… Yeah, she can be scary." he admitted, more or less admitting to their relationship in the same breath. "In a good way."
"Fulvia is scary too." Plutarch chuckled. "In a good way."