Prompt: There are fanfics of Effie being caught trying to lose weight for Haymitch and Haymitch comforting her, maybe you could write a fanfic of it being the other way around. I understand Haymitch doesn't care what others think but maybe he cares more about what Effie thinks. I think it would be cute (and maybe funny after reading your one fic Shopping and Chopping).

The Best Way To Exercice

It was the noise that made her frown. She looked up from the fashion magazine she was reading at the kitchen table and glanced at her glass of ice tea with some regret before walking to the window over the sink to peer in the backyard.

Surely enough, there Haymitch was, wiping sweat from his brow with his left arm, an axe in his right hand. She let out a sigh and made her way outside, leaning against the back porch with her arms folded across her chest, watching him pick up a new log and setting it on the dead stump.

"What are you doing?" she asked, keeping her voice casual.

He glanced up, a bit startled, but soon scowled. "You need glasses?"

There was a neat pile of chopped wood next to the stump already.

"You did that yesterday." she pointed out. "Then you dragged them inside and put pieces of bark all over the house."

"Need some more." he shrugged.

"Haymitch, there is no room to put any more." she argued. The designated place for logs next to the fireplace was full to the brink. And so was the shed.

"Don't want us to get cold." he retorted. "Winter's gonna be here soon."

"It is the middle of summer." she deadpanned.

He shot her a glare and defiantly swung the axe down. He placed his foot on the log and tugged the axe free before repeating the process. It split in two this time.

It was hot.

She couldn't deny that, it was hot. All the more so given the drops of sweat running down his brow. She could have done without the wet spots darkening his shirt under his armpits and at his back but she did have a thing for him when he was all sweaty – although she preferred it when she was the reason for the sweating.

With a small discrete sigh, she sauntered down the steps and closer to him, trailing a hand down his arm.

"Are you trying to seduce me?" she hummed. "Because you know I love watching you chop wood. It is all very manly and attractive… But honestly, Haymitch, we do not need the surplus of logs. I would find it equally manly and attractive if you finally cleaned the gutter on the roof."

"Said I would do it." he grumbled.

"Oh, yes, you did. Two months ago." she pointed out with a grin that wasn't quite amused. "And yet…"

"Fine." he spat, tossing the axe away. "I'll get the ladder."

She frowned and grabbed his arm to hold him back, studying the scowl on his face. He kept his eyes averted. He had been acting a bit odd for a while now but she hadn't thought anything of it. Sometimes, he needed his space and she had assumed it was one of those times. But now…

"What is the matter with you?" she asked. It wasn't like him to just give in to her wishes like that – even if cleaning the gutter was a perfectly sensible request. It wasn't like him either to just ignore the fact that she had just made a pass at him.

"Nothing." he muttered and tried to move past her.

She was determined though and side-stepped to block his path. "Haymitch."

"Nothing." he repeated with a snarl.

It wasn't nothing, that was becoming abundantly clear. He had been chopping wood for days and she was beginning to suspect it was to get away from her.

She placed a hand on his chest, her frown deepening. "Are you angry with me? Did I do something wrong?" His jaw clenched and he looked away again. He was glowering so hard it was almost scary – it would have probably been enough to send anyone else scurrying away in fear but she was safe in the knowledge that he would never hurt her and thus she stood her ground. He didn't answer at once and she knew that, whatever it was, it was serious. And it scared her. Her mind was already flying to scenarios in which he didn't want her around anymore and didn't know how to tell her. "Haymitch."

"You made a face, okay?" he sneered. "You fucking made a fucking face."

It made so little sense that she stood there and blinked at him, utterly confused. "I don't…"

"Last week." he snapped. "In the middle of sex. You touched my stomach and you made a face."

She blinked some more and then winced. "Oh."

"Yeah, exactly like that." he growled, stepping around her, aiming for the garden shed.

She hurried after him, quickly thinking up ways to salvage this. "Haymitch…"

"Don't bother. I got it loud and clear." he snarled.

"I am sorry." she pleaded. "I…"

"Always knew you were shallow." he cut her off, flinging the shed's door open and dragging the ladder out with no care at all for everything he upturned with it. "Seems a bit rubbish now tough, yeah? Spent all this time telling you I want you no matter what… Spent all this time promising you're worrying about nothing 'cause I don't care about scars or your weight or whatever. Stuff you obsess over…"

She felt shame.

Nothing but shame.

Because he was right and she was shallow. He had been nothing but supportive after her time in prison, understanding of all her insecurities… The scars, the lack of curves…

And she had been a bit put off by the fact he had been putting on some weight lately. The small pouch of fat around his waist was threatening to become a full beer belly and she didn't enjoy that. She couldn't control herself.

"You are right. And I am sorry." she admitted softly. "I could pretend I find it cute and attractive but, Haymitch… I do not. I know it makes me shallow and I have never doubted you were the best person of the two of us. I am shallow. But I would never leave you over this. I love you. Haymitch, I…"

"No, you're just going to make faces when I fuck you." he scoffed. "Or we're just not going to ever fuck again."

"Language." she chided automatically. "You are blowing this entirely out of proportions."

"Sure." he deadpanned, finally setting the ladder next to the house and shaking it to make sure it would hold.

She grabbed his arm with both hands to prevent him from climbing up. "Haymitch, I want you." He snorted and tried to shrug her off but she held on fast. "Do not be ridiculous!"

"I'm ridiculous?" he growled, slamming his fist against the ladder and then making a face of his own, shaking his hand with a pained scowled. She cradled his injured hand in hers with a chiding glance. "Don't look at me like that." he grumbled.

"Stop it." she rebuked. "Chopping wood isn't the best way to keep in shape, you know. You could join me when I go for a run now and then."

"Yeah, 'cause I like that." he complained.

"Some exercising is healthy." she argued, stepping closer, trapping him between her body and the ladder. "And we could come to an agreement… For every time you come running with me, I could do something special for you, something of your choosing…" She leaned in and pressed her lips against his throat, in the very spot that he loved her to nibble on when they were having sex. "Do not think I do not want you." she purred. "I always want you."

He tilted his head to the side, offering his neck to her teeth.

"Could work." he muttered a bit reluctantly. Compromising didn't come naturally to him but they had managed well enough since she had come to live in Twelve.

"Good." she approved. "Now, would you please come inside with me? Because all this wood chopping has made me rather horny…"

He was obviously torn between sulking some more and accepting her proposition. She bit down harder on his neck and he groaned.

"Fine." he muttered. "But I'm still angry."

"Then I shall do my very best to earn your forgiveness." she vowed with a devilish grin.