Prompt : I really need to prompt it. I can't resist. I'm sorry. "On a memorable occasion, she seduced Haymitch only to pass out on top of him in the middle of it." Please write it. Please !

Well it's mostly crack with a side of smut XD

Don't Drink And Have Sex

"Wanna make a bet?" Chaff chortled around a mouthful of fries. "Who's gonna pass out first?"

Haymitch chuckled in his glass of whiskey and stole a few fries from the plastic dish in front of his friend, musing that he would probably live to regret that in the morning. The bar was as shady as it got and he didn't think any food served there was fresh. They knew their liquor thought as the two empty bottles on the small table attested.

The mandatory Games party they were supposed to be attending in the wake of Two's winning had been utterly boring and he and Chaff had let Jo and Finnick convince them to sneak out to somewhere a little more fun. His escort had tagged along as she was used to do it, supposedly to keep an eye on them and prevent them from getting in trouble – he thought she had been just as bored as they were and jumped on the idea of doing something funnier.

"You're going to bet on Effie but Finnick's a worse light-weight than she is." Haymitch argued, dipping the fry in his glass of whiskey. Maybe it would kill any bacteria that lived there. He didn't know if that was how it worked. He was too drunk to care.

"He's pretty much out of it." Chaff commented. "But your girl's wasted, buddy. Look at her."

"Not my girl." he mumbled automatically, his eyes finding her easily in the almost empty bar. How could he miss her when he had been busy staring at her ass for the better part of the night? She was wearing a tight little white dress and he didn't know how she could move in that – never mind kick Johanna's and Finnick's ass at pool – but he had been thinking of little else but tearing it off her. Even the pale blue wig on her head and the heavy make-up weren't deterrents.

There was something fascinating in watching Effie Trinket play pool. The way she handled the stick, the way she bent over the table to take her aim, the small tilt of her head when she studied the game, baring her throat to lustful eyes… Everything was calculated. A show. She knew the effect she had on people. She enjoyed the attention.

Somewhere along the line, Johanna had managed to get her drunk – as she often did – and now the pool game had turned into a huge bickering match. Finnick was shaking his head, gesturing to the pool table, but the women weren't listening. Jo was too busy waving her stick around and Effie had her hands on her hips, looking down at her with pursed lips, clearly unsteady on her feet.

"She's wasted." Haymitch concurred at last. Her eyes were too bright, her make-up was smudged because it had been too long since she had checked it, her accent was even more stressed than usual and she was swaying on her heels.

Then again, nobody in their group was really sober.

At long last, Finnick tossed the stick on the pool table and wandered back to them, dangerously stumbling with every step. His golden hair was in total disarray, the manic grin he had started to sport after a few glasses had now morphed into a displeased pout, and his eyes were a little glassy. He looked like the kid he wasn't anymore.

"They're both a pain in the ass." the boy declared, sitting on a stool and almost toppling over. Chaff reached out and steadied him before Haymitch could even think of doing something and he wondered if Eleven's victor was the most sober. He supposed it came down to a tie between the two of them. "Thanks." Finnick mumbled, folding his arms on the table and resting his forehead on them. "I don't feel so good."

"No kidding." Haymitch snorted. "Told you not to drink if you can't handle the hard stuff."

Finnick tossed him a glare before resting his head down once more. "I can handle my drink just fine."

"Clearly." Chaff mocked with obvious affection. "Time to call it a night, I guess. Gather the kids, buddy, I'll get the barman to call us a car."

"Why am I stuck with the babysitting?" Haymitch grumbled.

Chaff raised his eyebrows. "You want to deal with Seeder or my escort? How else are we getting a car…"

He wrinkled his nose. "I'll get the girls."

Chaff chuckled, toasted him with his glass and down the last of it in one go. "That's what I thought."

He wasn't as steady on his feet as he would have liked but it wasn't nearly as bad as Finnick's clumsy stumbling or Effie's light swaying. She grinned as soon as she saw him approaching and tossed her arms around his neck in a childish display of affection that she would never have allowed herself in public if she hadn't been wasted out of her mind.

"Are you here to play with me?" she asked in a purring voice that shot straight to his groin. Somehow, he didn't think she was talking about pool.

"Oh, please." Jo scoffed, making gagging sound.

"You, shut up." Haymitch ordered, shooting her a warning look. He pried his escort's arms away from his neck. "We're leaving."

"But I don't want to leave now." Effie whined. "I'm kicking Johanna's ass at pool, Haymitch."

He lifted his eyebrows in surprise at that sort of language but before he had time to make a comment, Seven's victor scoffed again. "You're kicking no one's ass. You're cheating."

The accusation didn't settle well with Effie. "You are a sore loser."

"I am not." Jo snapped, almost stomping her foot. "You're a cheating liar."

"And you are an annoying little…" his escort retorted.

"Ok." he cut in before she could say something that Johanna would want her head for. "Go get some fresh air. Both of you."

His tone was commanding enough that Johanna bristled before storming away to where Finnick was sitting – or sleeping – muttering all the while about old men who thought they were everyone's father. He chose to ignore that. Mainly because Effie was pressing herself against him, trailing a hand up and down his chest, her eyes dark with a familiar hunger… She brought her lips closer to his ear, her breath rolling against his skin in a very distracting way.

"I love it when you take charge." she whispered. "It makes me wet."

"Effie." he growled in warning, stepping away from her. There weren't many customers in the bar and most of those were either uninterested in the victors or completely drunk – that was why they always selected shady bars in disputable parts of the city – but they were still in public and it was still more risky than he cared to be.

"Don't behave as if you are not hard for me." she challenged in a low voice that didn't carry too far. "You've been staring at me all night. You are dying to touch me." She advanced on him but he refused to be cowed into stepping back. He grabbed her arm when she came too close, physically keeping her from jumping on him again. She didn't seem so intent on touching him anymore though. She tilted her head, an amused smile playing on her lips. "We could go to the facilities… I am sure they have locks in this dump. You do like me on my knees, I believe…"

"You're drunk." he accused.

"You are too so we are even." she dismissed. She licked her lips. "I want you, Haymitch."

That was cheating.

Truth be told, if Chaff hadn't gestured him over to the table and if their sudden disappearance wouldn't have raised more questions than he was willing to answer, he might have taken her up on that offer. It wouldn't have been the first time they did it in a public place but right now he was too drunk to handle the vigilance that should come with it and his friends were waiting.

"In the penthouse." he compromised.

A disappointed pout played on her lips but she let him steer her back to the others.

"You are no fun." she complained.

"I'll show you fun later." he snorted.

"But I want fun now." she whined petulantly with her trademark spoiled brat tone.

"You don't always get what you want, sweetheart." he rebuked.

A drunk Effie was a nightmare his drunk self wasn't exactly ready to deal with. She was a bundle of energy and since liquor tended to buzz Johanna up too, the two of them together was headache inducing. They decided they wanted to wait for the car outside and Haymitch and Chaff didn't object because they thought a bit of fresh air would go a long way in clearing everyone's mind a little. Of course, Eleven's victor ended up with Finnick slumped against him. No amount of fresh air would help the boy and Haymitch wasn't impatient to meet Mags the next day – there would be lecturing.

He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, letting Chaff try to coax Finnick into a conversation and ignoring the girls bickering over whatever they were fighting about that day – still the pool game, he thought.

He heard the unmistakable sounds that meant Effie was rummaging in her purse and, two minutes later, the click of her silver lighter being uncapped.

"You're sure you should be so close to a flame?" he taunted.

Both Effie and Johanna glared at him in answer, drawing on their cigarettes. Haymitch left them be. At least, while they were smoking they weren't arguing and it was nice not to hear raised voices. Eventually, Jo wandered closer to Finnick and Chaff, mocking Four's victor for being such a light-weight, and Effie approached him. She offered her cigarette but he shook his head. He was never keen on the stuff, not even in his youth when he and his friends had made a big game of stealing cigarettes and sharing them in the meadow. He expected her to start her seduction number again but she was more subdued now.

When the official Games car came to a stop in front of them, she tossed the bud of her cigarette on the pavement, crushed it under her heel and climbed in without any complains. It was a large limo with plenty of room to accommodate them all. Finnick immediately curled up in the corner. Jo sat next to him and closed her eyes, her jaw locked tight enough that Haymitch thought she was fighting nausea. Chaff seemed to settle down for a short nap too. He took the opposite bench.

Effie took the seat next to him and sat close – too close – eventually resting her head against his shoulder. He tossed a look at his friends just to make sure no one was watching.

"I am very, very drunk." Effie whimpered.

"You don't say." he snorted.

"It's Johanna's fault." she mumbled. "She goaded me into drinking those shots… You have the worst friends." She tucked her head under his chin, nuzzling his neck with her nose. "I really want you."

It was lucky the others were all drunk.

"Behave." he chided her.

"That's my line." she grinned.

"Then try to stick to it." he deadpanned.

She did sit a little straighter though and he tried hard not to notice Chaff's mouth was twitching in amusement despite his closed eyelids.

The car trip was short which was probably a good thing given that Jo threw up as soon as the car stopped in front of the Training Center – right in front of the waiting crowd and flashing cameras that resided there on a permanent basis.

"Oh, dear." Effie said flatly, not seeming overly concerned. Then again, she wasn't Seven's escort, what Seven's victor did or not didn't reflect on her. Now, if Haymitch had thrown up in public – and it had happened quite a few times over the years – there would have been hell to pay, drunk escort or not.

It took some maneuvering and the help of the Peacekeepers on guard but they managed to get Finnick and Jo inside – and not to get thrown in the drunk tank because a wasted Effie was still convincing and all she had to do was pout a little and bat those blue eyelashes of hers.

Chaff stopped at the fourth floor to make sure Finnick reached his bed in one piece. He didn't offer the same help to Jo, she would have waved him off anyway. She stumbled out of the elevator, clutching her stomach and swearing under her breath that she would never touch tequila again – an empty oath if he ever heard one.

Effie pounced on him the second the doors closed after the victor. His balance wasn't the best, he tripped and hit the wall with his shoulder but still responded to her aggressive kisses eagerly. He spun them around so she was the one pinned to the wall and lowered his mouth to her neck, his hands ghosting down her ribs until they found the hem of her dress. He forced the fabric up, tugging when it resisted his pull, and only relented when he felt the lacy thong under his fingers.

The elevator chimed.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and hopped up, locking her legs around his hips. He staggered back but managed to keep upright, steadying her with his hands under her ass – he didn't complain about that because it allowed him to fondle her.

"Carry me." she requested unnecessarily.

He carried her to the best of his abilities given his current state – which meant they bumped into a lot of furniture, almost tripped twice and probably missed breaking both of their necks a couple of times. Her mouth was latched on his neck in an open kiss that he was sure would leave a mark. She licked and kissed and nibbled relentlessly on the same spot until he groaned, already painfully aroused when she hadn't touched him properly yet.

He dropped her on her bed with relief. She kneeled on the mattress before he could do anything more than reaching for her and she wrinkled her nose in dismay when the buttons of his shirt resisted her. He thought she was too drunk to remember how it worked and he also thought that it was his clue to stop this but he was drunk too and when she simply pull on his shirt until the buttons popped and lowered her lips to his chest, he forgot everything about possibly stopping her.

They struggled with their clothes but eventually managed to shimmy out of them. She pushed him on his back and straddled his hips – something he didn't always enjoy, but right now he couldn't bring himself to care – sinking down on him slowly before lying down on his chest. Their hips met lazily, his hands roamed on her back, sometimes groping her. Gradually, she stopped meeting his thrusts and he frowned.

"You're letting me do all the work." he complained – and it wasn't easy in that position, he didn't say.

She hummed and hooked her leg higher up, shifting a little to her left side as if she was trying to curl up.

His hips jutted out automatically, searching for a friction that wasn't quite there anymore.

"Tell me you didn't just fall asleep on me." he scowled.

She didn't say anything. How could she? He craned his neck, pushing the synthetic blue hair out of her face and, surely enough, her eyes were closed and she was soundlessly sleeping, her silver painted lips half opened. It wasn't the prettiest sight and he just knew she would drool on his chest – she would deny it until her dying day but she would drool on his chest.

"Fucking great." he said to no one in particular.

He considered finishing. After all they had started and it wasn't their first rodeo so she must have been alright with the idea of them having sex but using her body like that when she was unaware… It felt neither right nor appealing.

With a sigh, he maneuvered her so he could slip out of her. She let out a long whine of protest when he tried to shift her on the empty side of the bed so with another sigh, he resigned himself to being used as a mattress.

He would make her pay for it in the morning.