Prompt : I have a prompt for you if that's okay? :) Haymitch sustains some tiny injury like he hurts his hand fixing the goose pen and Effie acts like he's dying and spends days fawning over him and it really irritates him? Thank yooouuu :)

Fussing

It was rarely stiflingly hot in Twelve but in summer there were good days. Days when Effie could work on her tan and he could taunt her mercilessly about it but secretly enjoy the view. And it was a view. She had dragged a lawn chair from the shed and had placed it in the middle of the backyard, out of sight from the other houses, and was lying on it wearing nothing more than a strapless bikini and sunglasses.

Haymitch was fixing the geese pen – or pretending the fix the geese pen while very much staring at the amount of tantalizing creamy skin on display, she had already asked him for help with her sun cream and he had grumbled all the while but enjoyed rubbing it on her body. Unfortunately, a hammer and an almost naked Effie didn't go well together.

He was so busy watching her breasts rise and fall regularly with each of her breath that he completely missed the nail he was aiming at and hit his thumb instead. The howl of pain could probably be heard three houses down.

She jumped on her feet, obviously startled, and ripped her sunglasses off her face before hurrying over to where he was clutching his hand against his chest.

"Are you hurt? Is it bad?" she panicked. "I told you to let Peeta or Katniss do it. Let me see!"

He struggled to keep his hand out of her clutch, knowing first hand she wasn't a great nurse but his thumb was throbbing and she prevailed.

"It might be broken." She bit on her bottom lip. "We need to take you to the hospital. Get x-rays... Let me grab a dress..."

"It's fine!" he protested immediately. "Look." He bent and stretched his thumb a few times to show nothing was broken. "It's just the nail."

That didn't reassure her.

It took half an hour to convince her he didn't need to go to the hospital.

Then she started fussing over him like a mother hen. He enjoyed it at first, happy to be allowed to grab her whenever his fancy struck and to be rewarded with peppering kisses on his face and neck. He got quite a few perks out of it, convincing her to do a few things for him she was usually happy to make him beg for and if it was the price for mind blowing sex, he would sacrifice his other thumb.

But when the nail started to turn black and she fussed twice as much, it wasn't so amusing anymore, it was smoldering. She brought cup of tea after cup of tea, arranged blankets on his lap as if he was an invalid, wrapped his hand in gauze, and generally acted as if he was about to drop dead.

"Will you fucking sit down!" he finally exploded when she brought the fifth cup of tea of the afternoon.

She pursed her lips and tilted her head, annoyed. "Language, Haymitch."

"I will give you language if you keep on being such a pain." he grumbled. "Sit." She sat down on the couch next to him but her pout remained fixed on her lips. He tore the bandage away – he had only let her wrap his hand up to humor her – and showed her his thumb. "It's nothing. It's just the nail. I will live. Stop acting like I'm going to keel over any second."

"But it hurts." she argued, folding her arms over her blue summer dress.

He rolled his eyes. "I think I will survive."

The pout deepened. She cradled his hand between hers and brought it on her lap, brushing her fingertips along the length of his fingers.

"They tore mines away." she whispered, her blue eyes riveted to his hand. "My fake ones. I tried to scratch one of the guard's eyes out. I think I did some damages because next thing they were tearing them away. They weren't gentle, some of my real nails came out too. It hurt even more than the rest. I don't want you to be in pain."

He closed his fingers on hers and gave them a gentle squeeze to remind her it was over.

"It doesn't hurt that bad." he promised.

"Even if it did you wouldn't tell me." she scowled. "You're ridiculously chivalrous that way."

"First time you call me chivalrous, sweetheart. Should I take out the champagne?" he teased.

"You're insufferable." she accused with some fondness.

"That's why you love me." he reminded her, still hesitant with that word but willing to let her use it now. He wasn't ready to do it himself, he suspected he would never be ready, but it didn't change the fact that he did and she knew it.

"Quite." she sighed, fighting off a grin. "Poor me."

He leaned in and captured her mouth if only to erase that sad pout.

"It's just a stupid accident." he murmured against her lips. "I'm safe. You're safe. It truly doesn't even hurt that much." He concluded this with another kiss, a deeper one. "We're fine."

"We're fine." she repeated, as much to convince him as herself, he figured.

She snuggled against him and nuzzled his neck, placing the occasional kiss on his skin. That was a sort of fussing he could do with.