Prompt : Hey, I have a prompt for you. I know you are on holiday atm but maybe you'll find the time and will when you are back. Effie and Haymitch are having sex at one point during the Games and then the condom breaks. It's awkward and Haymitch freaks out big time until he listens to Effie who's also on the pill. So a "we are not in a relationship"-relationship moment. I so hope you'll write it. Thaaaank you already.

I cheated and brought this prompt up the waiting line because several people requested it in the last month so… Enjoy the crack!

I also forgot to say here buuut great news! On my tumblr you can now find a masterlist of tags for my hayffie stories. So basically if you're looking for something of mine you can find it through the keywords (like jealousy stories, or cuddling, or smut or aus… Everything is now within your reach). My tumblr is ellanainthetardis for those who wouldn't know yet.

Ah yeah… My eyes just fell on the first line of this prompt and I forgot to say but smut ahead.

The Beauty Of It

Haymitch loved having sex with her.

Sex with Effie Trinket was quickly becoming an addiction. It used to happen once or twice a year, a unfortunate consequence of a too brutal argument but now… Now it was all the time, as many times as they could get away with, any flat surface did the trick and any excuse to start something was as good as any. She was a drug and he was hooked. He knew it was all kinds of wrong but it felt all kinds of right. His only consolation was that she was just as dependent on this as he was.

This year was by far the worst.

They were barely able to keep their hands off each other. Every time they were left alone, they ended up aggressively kissing and fumbling under clothes. It was completely ridiculous. They were acting like teenagers or rabbits – he wasn't sure which. He had been in the Capitol for a week and a half and not only was he actually impressed by his own stamina but he was starting to worry she wouldn't be able to walk straight anymore. He had caught her wincing the other day when she had sat down for dinner.

He had never really cared about her pleasure or her comfort – she never protested even when he manhandled her in the position he wanted her in and if he did something she really didn't like she knew how to voice her displeasure – but this year was different and he actually felt a need to be careful with her mainly because even though she was urging him on, he knew she must have been very sore. They had been having sex nonstop for ten days, of course she was sore.

"You're sure about this?" he felt compelled to ask, nipping at the tender skin of her stomach, watching her recover from her orgasm. Lying between her legs, he propped his chin on her thigh, unable to shake the smirk off his mouth – a mouth that had just been her undoing a minute earlier. "'Cause I'm good, sweetheart."

"Don't be preposterous." she scoffed. "You are hard and I want you."

How was he supposed to resist her when she was looking straight at him and saying that sort of things? He snorted and moved up, covering her body with his own, dropping burning kisses on his way until he had access to her throat.

"No marks." she reminded him even though it was unnecessary. He knew her rules. No marks where they could be seen was the first and most important one.

He propped himself on his left elbow and looked down at her, his other hand easily finding her breast. Her back arched, her head pressing hard against the pillow. The synthetic pink hair of her wig clashed with the white of the sheets and he had a feeling she would scream when she would realize just how messed up that wig was. He was suddenly overcome with a wave of fondness for her quirks and her stupid fashion accessories – he could almost hear Chaff's voice in the back of his head warning him that he was on a dangerous path.

"I'm serious." he insisted, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek – something he had probably never done before. "We've been at it like rabbits. Can't be comfortable for you."

She lifted her eyebrows, brushing his too long hair back. "Are you actually trying to be considerate for once, Haymitch?"

He rolled his eyes and pressed a kiss to the inside of her wrist. "Just saying. I won't die from a case of blue balls if I don't fuck you tonight, that's all."

She wrinkled her nose. "So vulgar."

"Like that doesn't turn you on." he mocked, bowing his head to nip at the delicate skin under her jaw.

Her breath caught and she tangled her fingers in his hair, guiding his head up until she could capture his mouth. It wasn't a sweet kiss – when was it ever? – it was dirty and deep and it left him aching.

"I'm fine, I promise." she whispered. "I know you think you're irresistible but I wouldn't have sex with you if I wasn't up for it. Now you are making me frustrated though, so would you please stop being the gentleman we both know you are not and fuck me already?"

There was a growl to her voice and he licked his lips, his grey eyes growing dark at her language. Maybe it wasn't as much her being turned on by his crudeness as him being turned on by profanities coming from her lips.

"You kiss your mother with that mouth?" he taunted, reaching in her nightstand drawer for the box of condoms.

"Leave my mother where she is or I will leave you hanging." she threatened.

He snorted but sat back on his knees so he could roll the condom on, she tried to help but he batted her hand away. "Keep your claws away from my dick, sweetheart." He didn't trust those nails of hers.

"It is not what you said yesterday." she pointed out, stretching her arms over her head on the pillow. He couldn't resist bending down to nuzzle the breasts so generously offered. She laughed but nudged him with her hip. "Enough foreplay."

"Bossy." he commented, taking his sweet time kissing her breast and grazing her nipple with his teeth just to tease her. Her breathing was short and ragged and given the way she wriggled her hips and tried to create friction, she was desperate for more. "What do you want?" he asked lazily, switching to her other breast.

"You know what I want." she hissed.

"Tell me." he ordered. He amused himself by retracing the swell of her breast with his tongue.

"You." she snapped with growing irritation. "I want you."

"Want me to do what?" he prompted, his fingers ghosting down her side to her thigh.

"Fuck me." she finally surrendered. "I want you to fuck me."

He smirked, dropping a kiss on her collarbone and positioning himself between her legs, he didn't do anything else though, even if it was becoming painful to restrain himself.

"Where are your manners, Princess?" he mocked.

She glared at him but she was too far gone, he had her right where he wanted her and she knew it. Turnabout was fair, she had made him beg two days earlier.

"Please." she breathed out. "Fuck me, please."

"Well, if you insist…" he chuckled, burying himself home in one powerful thrust. She gasped but it had nothing to do with pain and everything to do with pleasure.

"Deeper." she requested after a few seconds, biting on her bottom lip. "Haymitch, please, I need…"

"Got you." he mumbled. He sneaked his arms under her thighs and pulling her down the bed a little to hit another angle.

Soon enough she was whimpering and bundling the sheets in her fists and he was trying to hold himself back, to make it last but the second her climax hit, it triggered his and he thrust in her like there would be no tomorrow. Something felt wrong but his mind was too blank for him to figure it out. He slumped on her, air knocked out of his lungs.

"That was good." she hummed.

"That was fucking great." he corrected, letting go of her thighs to roll off her, certain he couldn't be the only one who needed to breathe properly.

The problem was obvious once he slipped off her. The post-coital bliss vanished at once faced with the sticky mess that could only mean one thing.

"Shit!" he spat. "Shit!"

"Language." she rebuked him.

"The condom broke." he snapped, pulling the useless thing off him and tossing it on the floor exactly like she hated for him to do. "Fuck! Fuck!" He ran a hand through his hair. "There's a morning after sex pill, right?" He thought there was at least, something that was a sure way to prevent pregnancies… He thought the word and felt all the blood leave his face. Now that would be a brand new kind of disaster. "Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck…"

"Are you done panicking?" she growled, sitting up. "Did it simply tear? Are you sure you got everything out?"

He blinked. The idea that some pieces of rubber might still be stuck inside of her… He wouldn't like to explain that to a doctor. And he would have to go with her to the clinic, of course, she might accuse him of not being a gentleman on a regular basis but his mother had raised him right and there were things he felt were a man's responsibility – which was why he was so terrified of women getting pregnant behind his back. He bent over the bed and picked the condom up but a careful examination at least ruled out that possibility. "No, it just burst. I think you're good."

"Alright then." she breathed out in obvious relief, settling back down and arranging the sheets over her as if she was about to go to sleep, completely omitting to freak out about the obvious thing.

"Effie, the condom broke." he scowled, tossing the useless piece of rubber again and wiping his hand on her immaculate sheets – she fortunately didn't notice.

"Yes, I heard the first time." she sighed, her hand blindly reaching for her wig. She seemed to think better of it and left it in place even though he could see some blond hair peeking out. Under normal circumstances he would have investigated because she absolutely refused to let him see her without a wig. Every time he had tried to take it off she had shoved him away. He wasn't sure why he was so fascinated with what her real hair would look like. "It happens, Haymitch." she insisted when he only stared at her. "It's not the end of the world."

"Yes, it is." he spat. "What if you're pregnant? What if…"

"I am on the pill." she cut him off. "The only reason I insist on you wearing a condom is because we are not exclusive and you never know what the tramps you pick up in bars can be carrying." There was a jealous edge to her voice that sent a shiver running down his spine. "I will get tested tomorrow. There is nothing else to do for now."

Slowly his heartbeat started decreasing. "I always use a condom. I've never done it without a condom. Not even wasted."

That was something Chaff had drilled into his head from the very first time he had convinced him grieving his girl was all well and good but living like a virgin monk forever wouldn't do. Chaff had brought him to a bar and had selected two lonely girls at a table for them to chat up – girls that, Haymitch had suspected later on, he had actually paid – and had repeated several times as an aside to wear a condom. It was a necessity with Capitols, he had insisted. There was no real possibility for sex in Twelve, not without strings attached and more problems that he cared for, so he had stuck to Capitol one night stands and thus had never experienced without condoms.

He didn't know why he was confessing that much to Effie and rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly embarrassed for no real good reason.

"You're clear." he finished lamely. "I'm clean."

Effie was looking at him with open curiosity. "Never ever?"

Her eyes traveled down to his groin with a thoughtful face.

"Don't even think about it." he groaned, flopping down on the free side of the bed. He should have left, he always left, but he was tired and he told himself he would wait a few minutes, just to get over the shock of the condom breaking. When she arranged the sheet and blankets so they could share, he didn't protest immediately.

"I am clean too, you know." she declared petulantly, almost offended. "I use condoms with non-exclusive partners too, it's a good rule. But if we are both clean and we were to do it once… I wouldn't be opposed to that if you wanted to try. Of course, if you don't want…"

She sounded vexed but she always got vexed over the smallest things.

"'T's not that." he mumbled, rubbing his face. "I'm beaten. Can't get it up again tonight, not even for your pretty ass."

She whacked his arm. "Language."

He chuckled, not really knowing why he found it so funny. His body was starting to feel the after effect of sex and he wanted to sleep – which was why he needed to haul himself out of her bed because that was a line he wasn't sure he wanted to cross. She shuffled closer to him, close enough that he could feel her warm body pressed against his side but not close enough that they could be accused of cuddling.

"Haven't been with another woman in two years." he admitted quietly to the silent room.

"Me neither." she whispered.

He turned his head to look at her, a smirk on his lips.

"'Cause you go with women a lot?" he taunted.

"It happens." she deadpanned. "But I meant with anyone else, really. Why? Are you imagining me with a woman now? Men generally find it arousing."

His mind went there and back very quickly. He shifted to wrap his arm around her and bring her closer to his chest with a possessive growl. "No."

"No, you are not or, no, you don't find it arousing?" she asked. "I will warn you I am not a fan of threesomes. I don't like to share."

The casualness with which she was talking about those things… He wasn't a very conservative man but to his District mind it was already enough reason to blush.

"Nothing arousing in imagining you with someone else." he grumbled, biting down on her shoulder in a primitive move that made her breath catch. "Mine."

"Caveman." she accused, sounding far too pleased.

"Cause you like the idea of me screwing someone else?" he scowled.

Her fingers instinctively clamped down on his shoulders, her nails digging painfully in his flesh. Her smile was all polite and her face was all bubbly but there was a dangerous glint in her eyes.

"Accidents happen." she delivered with a cheerful voice. "You wouldn't believe the number of women who tripped down the stairs every year."

He shook his head, unable to shake off the smirk from his lips. "You're crazy."

"Oh, and what would happen to a man putting his hands on me in front of you?" she huffed.

He shrugged. "Wouldn't have any hand left."

"I am glad this is settled." she declared. "So, can we agree we are not seeing anyone else anymore?"

"This isn't a relationship." he was quick to point out.

"No, this is a friends with benefits agreement in which we agree not to go with any third party without warning the other first." she declared. "This way, we can safely stop using condoms which is a good thing because now I don't trust they won't burst and stay stuck inside of me."

"Come on, that doesn't happen." he scoffed.

"Yes, it does." she countered. "And it feels better without them anyway. You will see. You will love it. I love teaching you new tricks."

"You're teaching me nothing." he protested. "I've got my moves."

"Rusty and basic moves." she commented, slipping a leg over his hips. "Tell me you didn't learn a thing or two from me, I dare you."

She propped her head on her hand and looked down at him, lips pursed in amusement. The pink synthetic hair was falling on her face and he brushed it back, wishing she would accept to get rid of it. Her fake eyelashes had fallen off at some point.

He didn't understand why he wanted her so much when she looked like a clown. The make-up, the wig… She would never part from them and yet… He wanted her anyway. More than he had ever wanted another woman maybe.

"I don't get you." he confessed, his hand spread at the small of her back, he pushed and tugged until he could roll on her. He pinned her to the mattress with his hips. "I don't get you at all, sweetheart."

"Isn't that the beauty of it?" she laughed.

Thing was…

It probably was.