prompt : peeta and haymitch having " the talk " like effie and katness did

The Hard Truth About Bananas

Cinna was his best chess opponent aboard the Victory Tour train but the stylist was nowhere near good enough for Haymitch to engage his whole attention in the game. It was a welcomed distraction though. With each new District they hit, the atmosphere on the train only grew heavier.

They wouldn't reach Three until the following evening, which meant they would enjoy a whole day and two nights of rest. Haymitch was relieved by the respite. The speeches had already been reviewed, he and Effie had gone over the schedules so many times he probably could have droned them out in his sleep and they were as ready as they could be.

The kids now…

"Your turn." Cinna said. Haymitch glanced at the chessboard, saw that the stylist had moved his knight exactly as he had expected him to, and simply advanced his piece without much thought. Cinna made a face. "Damn."

Haymitch barely paid him any attention, too busy observing the others.

Portia and Effie had disappeared a while earlier to check something in the wardrobe car – which meant they probably were in the bar car, having drinks their escort wouldn't have allowed herself in company of the kids and sharing juicy gossips. Katniss and Peeta were sitting on the couch. The boy was sketching and Katniss was watching whatever recap of the Tour they were having on TV, looking gloomy and unhappy.

With reasons.

Everything would have been so much easier if Katniss had been a better actress, he mused, distractedly countering Cinna's move. Acting didn't come so easily to him but he wasn't bad at it. He had picked it up quickly enough. All victors did eventually. But Katniss… Katniss was an atrocious liar and the more she tried to appear convincing, the worse it was.

Every public appearance with the boy was a disaster.

He had tried to coach her. Effie had tried to coach her. To no avail. And if Effie, who he truly believed to be the best actress he knew, couldn't work her magic then they were doomed.

When she put on an act, the girl looked stiff, tense and off-putting.

Now, if only she could realize she didn't need to…

He watched as she casually placed a hand on Peeta's thigh to catch his attention, nodding at something on the screen. The boy's eyes widened and he licked his lips, less interested by whatever was happening on TV than by the fingers on his leg.

"Checkmate." he claimed. He acknowledged the stylist's exclamations, even answered with a few friendly gibes, but his attention was on the kids.

Katniss was done with the TV. She bent over Peeta to grab the remote, brushing her chest against his leg, probably squeezing his thigh, bringing her face in close proximity to his lap… Any other girl, the whole thing might have been a ploy… A not so subtle trick…

But it was Katniss and Katniss was clueless.

That was what he expected of her in public and she could only give it when she was unaware.

Peeta's face was flushed and he awkwardly shuffled to cross his legs once she had the remote and was back sitting upright. Cinna declared he was going to bed. Katniss stood up and stretched, stating she was tired too. The boy's eyes were riveted to her waist, where skin had briefly been visible. And, again, she was clueless.

"You're coming?" Katniss asked.

"In a minute." Peeta answered and, credits needed to be given, he sounded composed – a little out of breath, yeah, but composed. He waved his sketchpad. "I want to finish this."

The girl shrugged and left with Cinna, chatting about something or other. Haymitch stood up slowly, not quite hiding his smirk, and walked to the liquor cart in the corner. He hesitated a bit on the appropriate poison and then decided whiskey was the way to go. Whiskey had never betrayed him before. He poured two glasses and handed one to Peeta.

"I don't…" the boy frowned.

"You're old enough for that…" He nodded at the boy's groin, eyes twinkling in amusement. "You're old enough to drink." Peeta awkwardly relocated his sketchpad to hide the bulge and accepted the glass. Haymitch dropped on an armchair and took a sip, if only to delay. He couldn't put it back forever though. "We need to have a talk, you and I."

"No, we don't." the boy said quickly, turning a worrying shade of red. "I've got brothers. I know what…"

"You know the basics. Good." he snorted. "Wasn't quite concerned about that. Pretty much instinct. Even an idiot can figure it out eventually."

Peeta brought the glass closer to his lips, hesitated, and then took a sip. He coughed so hard Haymitch had to bite down on the inside of his cheek not to laugh. Even worse than Finnick, he thought…

"Look, I didn't… I didn't mean to, alright?" the boy chocked out between two coughs. "She just… Sometimes she does things and…"

"And you're seventeen, yeah, I remember what it's like." he mocked. "Been there, done that."

Hell, he was forty, soon to be forty-one, and sometimes it didn't take much to trigger him. With the right woman… A perfume, a look, a hand that casually trailed down his arm, a smile… He banished any thought of Effie's sassy grin from his mind – getting a boner wouldn't help right now.

"She never notices." Peeta mumbled, apparently not quite sure if it was a good or a bad thing.

Haymitch could sympathize.

"You want her to notice?" he asked, taking pain to keep his voice casual despite the growl that wanted to come out. The kids were like his own but he was conflicted on that matter. On one hand, he could only cheer for Peeta if he got some but, on the other, he wanted to rip apart anyone who would touch Katniss that way.

"I don't know." the boy admitted and took another sip of whiskey. He didn't cough as long this time. "I wouldn't… I would never take advantage."

That, he knew. If one of them was ever going to take advantage of the other, it would be the other way around.

"You're sleeping in her bed." he pointed out, because he needed to.

"Nothing's happening." Peeta was quick to protest. "It helps her sleep. I told Effie…"

"I know what you told Effie." he shrugged. "She's not really buying it. But she's never been the kind to sleep in a guy's bed and do nothing if you catch my drift…"

She would kill him if that got out. But, then again, she could have tackled this herself. Payback was a bitch and he liked his salty.

Peeta made a face. "You shouldn't talk about Effie like that."

Mama's boy, he almost accused. He swallowed the words back. Effie was Peeta's confidant of choice just like he was Katniss'. They both loved them but they had their favorites.

"Sure, let's talk about what's going to happen when Katniss finally figures out little Peeta's really happy to see her instead." he countered, faking a cheerfulness he really didn't feel. The thought was enough to make him nauseous. Only discussing the possibility of it was making him nauseous.

The boy had slowly been going back to a normal color… He flushed crimson again. "Nothing's going to happen. She doesn't notice. She's…"

"You're seventeen and you're sleeping with the girl of your dreams." he cut him off. "You're really going to try and bullshit me? You've never got a boner in bed with her? Not one little morning wood? 'Cause I'm telling you, boy, if you say no, I'm gonna drag you to see a doctor as soon as we reach Three."

Peeta made a face and took another mouthful of whiskey.

It allowed Haymitch to gulp half of his glass down in anticipation.

"Nothing's going to happen." the boy insisted in a small pitiful voice. "She doesn't notice. She never does."

"She might." he offered, waving his glass. "And she might not turn you down if it happens."

That was Katniss for you. Unpredictable.

Well… Not really. Not to him. They were too similar. Which was why he knew that, given the right circumstances, if she felt just the right amount of helplessness and if she was upset… She might think hooking up with Peeta to be a perfect idea.

The boy would get hurt eventually, of course, because whatever she would do at that point wouldn't be about feelings she was clueless about. Peeta was all about feelings though.

"She won't go for that." Peeta scoffed, as if it was a good joke.

"That's the thing with women." he taunted. "They're a fucking mystery. Best ones like to keep you on your toes. Never do what you bloody expect."

And that was just as well. Predictable was boring.

He liked a good puzzle.

He liked women who were like hurricanes.

But this wasn't about him…

"She's not interested." Peeta insisted. "It's fine. It's my problem and…"

"If anything happens and the two of you do something extremely stupid, like… Say… Getting her knocked up, it becomes our problem." he interrupted. "Mine and Effie's. We're too young to play grandmentor and grandescort, so…" He rummaged in his pocket until his fingers closed on the row of condoms Effie had pushed in his hands when she had learned the children were sleeping in the same room. He had been carrying them around for a few days now, not sure he wanted to meddle. The thing was, he trusted Peeta. He wasn't sure he trusted Katniss and her latent self-destructive tendencies. "Here. Just in case."

He waved the shiny little packages in the air, glancing around for something that would work. His eyes stopped on the fruits basket on the coffee table – a fruits basket that had appeared around an hour after Effie had tossed the condoms at him – and he leaned in to snatch a banana. Could they do more cliché? How had he ended up in that situation exactly? Nobody had ever bothered explaining anything to him. He had picked up stuff from Chaff's tales of his wild affairs and had figured out the rest for himself. The only direct conversation about sex had happened when he was thirteen and his mother had decided it was time they had a talk – a very embarrassing, not very instructive talk.

Although Chaff had always insisted he needed to use a condom. Every time. Better safe than incredibly sorry. He hadn't pushed it to giving him a demonstration. He had asked if Haymitch had known how to roll it on – which he had in theory – and had accepted the lie with a straight face. He had struggled the first time… But his first time had been with Alina and Eight's victor had a sound head. Together, they had figured it out.

He would like it better if Peeta didn't have to… figure it out in the heat of the moment.

"Please, don't." Peeta begged. "I can…"

"You've ever put one on?" he asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"No." the boy admitted.

"That's what I thought." Haymitch snorted. "So, shut up and learn. I ain't enjoying this any more than you are."

He was tempted to make fun of the situation with jokes but it seemed too important for the kid to know how to do this properly to make light of it. In the end, the demonstration with the banana was far more serious than he would have liked. It was a waste of condoms – and a shame too because they were flavored and those were expensive – but he was only happy once Peeta had showed him, and the banana, that he could safely put one on.

Haymitch was sure he was just as crimson as the boy was by the end of it.

"You're the man, it's your responsibility to make sure you're being safe, alright?" he concluded. "And… Look, whoever you do that with… Katniss or someone else… Protection's hard to find in Twelve and it's not always reliable stuff. You need condoms, you come to me. I've got a stock." He always brought back a couple of boxes every year, boxes he never used, just to prove a point. To himself. He liked telling himself that he might use them, that it was a choice he could make, because he wasn't attached to anyone. "And I can get Effie to send more if it comes down to that. She doesn't need to know who they're for."

Although she might have something to say about it.

Peeta nodded and then cleared his throat. "Thanks."

"Sure." Haymitch dismissed, waving his hand. He finished his glass. "Okay. Nice chat. I'm gonna…"

"Can I ask you something?" the boy said before he could finish that sentence. The embarrassment on the kid's face alone told him he would need more booze. "How do you… How do I… I mean… How do I make sure it's good? For the girl, I mean."

Haymitch took a deep breath and stood up to refill his glass. He was far too sober for that conversation.

He decided to purposely forget they might be talking about Katniss. That made him feel way too ill.

"You know how it works, yeah?" he asked and immediately regretted it. He wasn't ready to have the birds and the bees conversation with that kid. He downed the glass and poured himself another one.

"Brothers, remember?" the boy joked. "Besides, there are… channels in the Village."

Oh, yeah. He knew those channels.

The perks of being a victor was having access to everything Capitol TV had to offer without restriction.

"Real life isn't like porn." he felt compelled to say, making the whiskey twirl absentmindedly in the glass. It was cliché but it was true. "You want to make it good for your girl, you make sure she's ready. If you're not sure, you ask. It's never dumb to ask. Best plan, actually. You ask what she likes. And you listen. That's how you make your girl happy."

"I… ask." Peeta repeated.

"You ask." he confirmed.

"That sounds… easy." the boy commented.

Haymitch snorted. "Doesn't come easy to everyone." He had certainly never bothered asking before a certain someone had made it clear he better listen to what she had to say if he wanted to continue playing with her. "Whatever you do, use a condom. We've got enough on our plates, yeah?"

"Yes." Peeta nodded.

"Any other pressing questions?" he winced. The boy shook his head and Haymitch seized the perfect opportunity to flee. "Gonna head to bed, then. 'Night, boy."

He grabbed a bottle and hurried to the corridor, almost afraid Peeta would call him back with another embarrassing question. He was irritated by the time he reached the portion of the train with the bedrooms and he switched tracks, walking past his door to go straight to his escort's.

He didn't knock, he just barged in.

She was sitting in the middle of her bed, in a lacy blue nightgown, braiding her hair. She froze mid-braid, both confused and, if he wasn't mistaken, a little tipsy. Her eyes had that slightly glassy quality that meant she had downed one too many tequila shot.

He nudged the door shut with his foot and pointed an accusing finger at her. "Everything's your fault."

She rolled her eyes, resuming her braiding. "Of course, it is. When is it not, I wonder? What am I responsible for, this time? Milk turning sour, perhaps?"

He flopped down on his back in front of her, hugging the bottle close to his chest, staring at the ceiling. "Peeta got a boner."

She frowned, securing the braid with the hair tie around her wrist. It fell a little over her shoulder, neat and practical rather than fancy. Strands were escaping everywhere, too curly to remain trapped. "I beg your pardon?"

"Katniss was being Katniss, he got a boner." he summed up, letting his eyes trail on the blue nightgown. Not his favorite. Nothing fancy or overly sexy about it. She hadn't been waiting for him. That annoyed him somehow. He had spent more nights in her room than in his own since the beginning of the Tour. "Not the first time too."

"I told you their sleeping together couldn't be innocent." she triumphed, snatching the bottle away from him to place it on the floor next to the bed.

She was the only person in Panem he allowed to do that. He wondered if she knew. He wondered if she cared.

"I had to talk to him." he complained. "No choice after that, yeah?"

"Oh." she brightened. "You finally gave him the talk, then? Can I tell the train attendants to take that fruits basket away?"

"I'm never eating a banana again." he vowed.

She chuckled and straddled his hips, placing both hands on his chest to steady herself. He automatically grabbed her hips, fighting off the urge to push her away.

She wouldn't hurt him. He trusted her.

And yet he still had to remind himself of those facts every time she got on top. Talk about fucked up.

"You did well." she hummed. "His parents certainly were not going to do it."

"Porn might have done the trick." he snorted "Seems like he found those special channels…"

She pursed her lips in distaste. "I do hope you told him…"

"Yeah, yeah…" he cut her off. "I did." She was still wrinkling her nose and he swatted her ass a little. "Don't play the prude… Whatever he's watching, I'm pretty sure you've done worse."

"I am not surprised you are defending porn channels." she huffed.

"I ain't defending anything." he grumbled. "When you've only got your hand for months, some porn isn't unwelcomed at some point."

He didn't spend entire nights watching that despite what she was no doubt telling herself. He had stolen a few of her lingerie magazines, mainly magazines where she featured, that he liked better than those channels. When it came down to it, his imagination was usually better anyway. Porn always felt cheap, a mechanical arousal. It didn't compare to her.

"You could go out and find yourself a willing participant." she ventured, her voice detached, as her fingers deftly undid the buttons of his waistcoat.

"So Snow can dangle her over my head?" he retorted.

She pursed her lips and tugged the shirt out of his pants, leaving the waistcoat to hang open on either side of him. She started unbuttoning his shirt. "I doubt he would dangle a one-night-stand over your head."

"Ain't taking the risk." he countered.

"Is that the only reason why you won't take another lover?" she purred, pushing the shirt open. She slowly bent in two, that familiar devilish twinkle in her eye, and closed her lips on his right nipple, poking at it with her tongue.

"Too much work." he deadpanned.

She chuckled against his skin and he snorted, burying his fingers in her braid before she could do anything else that would, no doubt, fry his brain.

"Look…" He hesitated. "You need to talk to the girl too, sweetheart, 'cause I ain't doing that and I'm pretty sure Peeta's not the one we should be wary of. He says nothing's happening, I trust him. He's a good boy. But if Katniss gets it in her head it's a good idea to…"

"I will." she granted easily, propping her chin on his chest. "If you think it is best."

"Yeah. I do." he shrugged. "Safer that way. I don't think they're going to do anything any time soon. The girl's clueless for now, so don't hint about Peeta's problems… Make it sound like you're just concerned about the propriety thing… But make sure she's… You know."

"It never hurts to be prepared." she agreed. "Or responsible."

"Right." His fingers drummed on the shimmering fabric of her nightgown and he smirked. "Besides, since I had to go through that, you do too. It's only fair, sweetheart."

She grinned and sat back straight, letting a strap fall off her shoulder, baring one of her breasts. She was a minx and he really shouldn't enjoy her tortures as much as he did.

"I see Peeta is not the only one who has an unwelcomed boner…" she teased.

"Unwelcomed?" he taunted.

Her eyes were sparkling with mirth. "Should I let you teach me how to make it go away, Haymitch?"

He wasn't really in the mood for role playing, even though he had no doubt she could play a credible ingénue.

"Just imagine it's a banana, sweetheart." he challenged. "Put this pretty mouth to good use."

Her lips twitched into an amused smile but she didn't deny him.

And she might reconcile him with bananas yet.