Prompt: With all these disucssions about Haymitch and Effie's virginity going in, can you write about Haymitch and Effie being drunk and talking about their first times? Pleaseee

The One Who Counted

"Look, we've been having this discussion for a week, Trinket." he grumbled. "Can we just forget it already?"

In the small mirror of her dressing table, Effie tossed him a glare that made him roll his eyes. Luckily for him, she was too busy caking her face with various creams to properly pitch a fit. Haymitch didn't know where was finding the energy to go around her usual nightly routine, he was still trying to recover from the shower they had just shared. He didn't know if it was Victory Tour taking its toll on him or if she had truly tried to kill him through sex but he was perfectly happy to lie on her bed stark naked until he had found his strength back.

She, of course, had blown her hair dry – and his, while she was at it, because she had claimed he would leave damp spots on her pillows otherwise – as soon as they had stepped out of the shower and had then proceeded to get dressed and apply creams and what not. It was almost fascinating to watch how much shit she could cover her skin with even at night.

"I dislike it when you call me Trinket, as you know perfectly well." she snapped.

He rolled his eyes again. "That's your name."

"No, it is the name you use when you wish to put distance between us in order to infuriate me enough that you will escape the current argument." she retorted.

Thing was, she wasn't wrong.

"There's no point arguing. I'm telling you again. They sleep together but they don't sleep together." he insisted. Really, those kids were making his life a real nightmare. If only they could have been clever enough to be discreet, Effie would never have heard about it and he wouldn't have had to listen to her complaining for the past week. He knew she had had words with Peeta and Katniss both and he also knew it had been completely useless. "Even if they are…" he amended faced with her dubious expression in the mirror. "I gave the boy condoms and I told him he better fucking use them."

She pursed her lips tight but wiped the excess of cream on her fingers on her forearm and grabbed her hairbrush. She wasn't gentle when she ran it through her hair. "Did you make sure he knew how to use them, at least? I cannot get Katniss on the pill… Not until we are in the Capitol."

"Yeah, I did." he groaned, rubbing his eyes. "You know, when Mama had the talk with me I thought it was the most awkward moment of my life. Yeah, think again. Having it with the boy was even worse."

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them. He hoped she wouldn't take it as an invitation to talk about his mother. His mother, like the rest of his personal ghosts, was better left not discussed.

She knew him better than that though and her mouth simply twitched with amusement. "Did you give him pointers?"

"No." he scowled, the sheer idea being horrifying. "Come on, it's Katniss. I don't want to know what he does with her and I don't want to think about it. At all. Why did you have to go and put images in my head, sweetheart?"

He looked around for his clothes and the flask he kept in his pocket but soon flopped back down on the bed when he remembered his flask was empty. He would have to drag his ass to the bar car or to the liquor cart in the living-room car and neither prospect was attractive at the moment.

"It is a shame though." she hummed, placing the hairbrush down and running her fingers though her blond curls a few times. "Not that I want them to do anything other than sleep, mind you, but… If it has to happen – and they are teenagers ridden with hormones, Haymitch, really what are the odds that it won't? – it would be more comfortable for her if Peeta knew what he was doing."

"Maybe he does." he pointed out. "Didn't ask, did I?"

"She doesn't." Effie sighed. "That much is clear. And she is so… tensed all the time. She will never be able to let go, to simply…"

"Can we not talk about this?" he scorned. "Seriously."

She waved her hand to dismiss him. "I am just stating a fact, first times are rarely ideal. She has been through enough pain as it is."

He could read between the lines well enough with her.

"Yours was shit, right?" he guessed.

"Not at all." she protested, staring at her own reflection in the mirror, wrapping the silky dressing gown tighter around her. "It was very sweet." She would have left it at that but he sat up and lifted an eyebrow, daring her to expand. She pursed her lips and looked down at her nails. "I was seventeen and he was nineteen, if you must know. He knew what he was doing."

He frowned. "You were a baby. He took advantage or what?"

"I was hardly a baby." she huffed.

"Most people are babies at seventeen." he argued. "You're a baby at thirty-five."

"Thirty-four." she corrected with venom in her voice. "And I am not."

"Whatever gets you through the night, sweetheart." he mocked. "So, the guy? Did he take advantage?"

It came out as a growl and he tried not to examine too closely the reasons why he was so angry all of a sudden. He hated the idea of her being hurt in any shape or form.

"It truly wasn't like that." she hummed, drumming on the dressing table with her fake nails. "I had just started my modeling career and Stelan was a photographer… We fell in love. Our first time… My first time was actually very sweet. He had scattered red rose petals on the bed and he had put candles everywhere in the room… It was… Very romantic."

"Doesn't mean the sex wasn't shitty." he commented, annoyed by the fond smile on her lips. He didn't like her smiling like that while thinking about another man – and again, he tried not to think too much about why.

"Language." she chided him, without parting from her soft smile. "It wasn't bad. It wasn't… good either. He was too impatient to truly take his time, I think. My fault, I had made him wait a long time for it. It is probably why he was so unfaithful during our affair."

She added that last part with a dismissive little laughter that was as fake as could be.

Haymitch frowned. "He cheated on you?"

"Don't sound so surprised." she taunted, standing up to walk to the window even though there was nothing to see. It was dark outside and the train was moving too fast. "Men always end up cheating once they grow bored."

"Not everyone's a piece of shit, Effie." he countered softly.

She either didn't hear or didn't acknowledge it. "It is of no consequence, this particular episode was an useful reminder."

"Reminder of what?" he prompted. He didn't like the bitterness he detected underneath the cheerful veneer.

"A reminder that Mother was right of course." she offered, turning around to look at him. "Love is a fantasy better left to children and naïve people."

"Cold." he remarked. "And stupid too."

"Perhaps." she granted. "I might change my mind if someone ever manages to love me – and I do mean me, not… you know – but for now I remain unconvinced."

He would never get her on some points. She claimed to not believe in love but she was starved for it. That was why she was running after glory and fame like she was, he had figured that out a long time ago.

"I'll never get cheaters." he shrugged.

She folded her arms across her chest in a move that was probably meant to look stern but who betrayed vulnerability. "Did you never cheat on anyone then?"

"Never got anyone to cheat on." he snorted. "But… No. My dad…" Again he cut himself off. What was it with him and his family tonight? He licked his lips and flung his legs off the bed, sitting on the edge of the mattress, ready to bolt. He was cautious when he finished his sentence, not sure he should share as much. She knew him best than anyone probably – better than even Chaff on some accounts – but that didn't mean he wanted to… talk. "He cheated on my mother with every girl who was willing to lift her skirt. That's not something I ever wanted to be."

"I'm sorry." She walked closer a little warily, obviously not certain he wouldn't run away.

"I'm no cheater." he stated, once she was standing between his legs.

She rested a hand on his shoulder and briefly ran the other though his hair.

"I know." she confessed. "But you are also not mine so…"

"More yours than anybody else's, no?" he scoffed, tugging on the belt of her dressing gown. He fisted the glossy fabric of her pajama shorts and pulled them down. She shed the gown and the top without even a moment of hesitation before straddling his lap. She didn't rock her hips or tried to start anything and he didn't either despite his initial intentions to erase his words by just… fucking her. They couldn't make this into something it wasn't. Not now. Not with the Tour, the kids and the rebellion looming in the distance. But her skin flushed tight against his… It felt good. "See, if you were mine, I wouldn't cheat on you."

"I am more yours than anybody else's, am I not?" she echoed weakly, burying her face in his neck.

Slowly, he lied down on his back, letting her whole weight rest on his chest. It was familiar and comforting in a way it had no right to be. He refused to call it cuddling but… Truth was, he quite liked those quiet moments. They were welcomed respites during this tour from hell.

"Well, shit." he sneered because they had gone deeper than he had ever meant too.

"Manners." she rebuked for the second time that night, it came out muffled because she still had her face in the crook of his neck. "What about yours?"

"My what?" he asked, his mind entirely focused on what they had just – not – openly admitted.

"Your virginity." she said, her tone light, clearly trying to bring them back on a more familiar ground of teasing and taunting. She propped herself on her elbow and looked down at him. "When did you lose it?"

Any other time he might have deflected and protected his privacy but, right then, he welcomed the distraction. Anything not to talk feelings.

"The real deal, right? Not… other things." he clarified.

Because there had been things with his girl in the meadow or behind a pillar of the Gregson's barn. All quite innocent now, in retrospect, when it had seemed like the most elating dirty things back then.

"The real deal." she grinned, her eyes sparkling in amusement.

"Nineteen." he mumbled.

"Late bloomer, aren't you?" she teased.

Somehow he had known she was going to say that. By Capitol standards, it was probably ancient.

"My girl died, remember?" he snarled, almost vicious. She pursed her lips and averted her eyes. If he hadn't wrapped his arms around her, she would probably have stood up and tossed an excuse to flee the room. "It just wasn't… Look, Chaff tried to hook me up with classy hookers and stupid Capitol girls, it never felt right."

"Who was it then?" she asked. "Someone from Twelve?"

"No." he muttered. "Never went for anyone back home. Too dangerous." It was still dangerous now and he was a little too aware that Effie would eventually be a nice convenient target painted on his back. "You remember Alina? She won two years after me…"

"Alina Grave, Eight's victor." she immediately recalled because her memory when it came to names and dates was exemplary. "Oh… I had guessed you had an affair with her but I didn't think…"

"Yeah, well…" he shrugged. "We liked each other. She was always around Chaff and I back when she still mentored. It drove Woof crazy. You remember Woof? He was her mentor. I heard he's batshit crazy now…" Most of the victors who had been mentoring when he won were gone now, leaving the stage to the younger ones. "Doesn't make me feel any younger, talking about this."

He let his hand trail up and down her spine but she wouldn't let herself be so easily distracted.

"Did you love her?" she asked.

"Why ask something you know the answer to?" he scoffed. Her gaze was serious though and he rolled his eyes. "No, sweetheart. It was just… Some fun."

"I doubt she felt the same way." Effie hummed. "It is hard to resist your charm when you bother turning it on."

He smirked. "Are you saying you're under my spell, Princess?"

"I am saying she probably fell in love with you and got her heart broken for her trouble." she replied without missing a beat, leaning in to brush her lips against his. "Which, admittedly, played in my favor since you are now in my bed."

He snorted but didn't outwardly protest that stupid reasoning because she captured his bottom lip between her teeth and nibble on it. He bore it as long as he could and then he tangled his fingers in her hair and pulled her in for a proper kiss. She responded to it almost violently and soon enough, the cuddling wasn't as innocent as it had just been.

All thoughts about Alina and first times left his mind. What did he care about the past and their former lovers when he had her in his bed ? She was the only one he had slept with more than once. She was the only one he wanted to sleep with several times a day even when he was too tired or too drunk to act on it.

At the end of the day, she was the only one who counted.