Prompt: I don't even know how the other anon came up with "Trinky" but it's adorable! May I prompt it?

Trinky

Effie tried to be quiet as she sneaked back into the penthouse. Her friend's birthday party had gone on forever and it was closer to dawn than she had thought. She didn't want to accidentally wake Haymitch up and deal with his grumpiness all day.

Of course, she should have known better.

She stopped tiptoeing around when she spotted the two men trying to get their way across the corridor.

"Late night out?" she called out, folding her arms across her chest.

Chaff was supporting most of Haymitch's weight but he wasn't steady on his feet either and, when they turned around, they wobbled left and right.

"Look what the cat dragged in!" Eleven's victor laughed. "Had fun, love?"

The look he gave her made her skin crawl and she hastily adjusted the short sparkly silver dress she had on so it didn't show too much cleavage. She knew her make-up was a bit smudged and that her light pink wig wasn't as straight as it should have been, she hadn't bothered correcting that because she had thought it was late enough that she would be safe from prying eyes.

She had spent most of the night dancing to forget about yet another loss for Twelve. She had drunk a little more than what she would usually allow herself too. In short, she wasn't at her best. And she was ready to bet Eleven's victor was jumping to conclusions as to why she looked so disheveled.

"Trinket!" Haymitch exclaimed joyfully before she could politely tell Chaff to mind his own business. "Trinket, Trinkety, Trinky…"

Despite herself, she felt herself grin. "Someone is in a good mood."

Haymitch was wasted. There was no point beating around the bush about that. His eyes were glassy and he didn't seem to be able to stand straight. He had lost his tie somewhere and his shirt was half unbuttoned, making her wonder what sort of shenanigans they had pulled that night.

"Someone got lucky." Chaff chuckled, prompting Haymitch to start snickering too like it was the best joke.

If she had been a bit tipsy before, that news certainly sobered her up. Not that she wanted to care. They had no rules, no agreement, nothing. They were free. That was the whole point of a no-string-attached affair. All the more so a not-acknowledged one. But…

"I do hope you two behaved." she sighed with irritation. "Although you managed not to get arrested so there is always that." She eyed Haymitch up and down, making an inventory of what she could see: hickeys on his neck and upper chest – had the woman chewed on him? – tangled hair as if someone had ran their hands in it repeatedly, slightly swollen lips… She huffed. "Tell me you, at least, had the presence of mind not to do anything in front of a camera?"

She so didn't want to have to deal with romantic assumptions about her victor. Haymitch was usually discreet so it would hit the press fast and hard and it would be a mess of dismissals and denials. The woman might want her five minutes of fame too, which would make it all the more complicated and it was far too early in the morning for her to have to worry about that.

"Don't be jealous, Trinky…" Haymitch slurred. "You're prettier."

"Why, thank you very much." she scoffed.

"Yeah, don't be jealous, Trinky." Chaff taunted, still chuckling like an idiot. "I got lucky too. Wanna hear about it?"

"Not really, no." she countered firmly – because a drunk Chaff could get sharing and she really didn't want to hear about his sexual exploits. "I will live that particular damage control to your escort. I am certain Viola will be more than happy to deal with it."

"Trinky…" Haymitch insisted, clearly not happy with the lack of attention.

"Is that my new pet name? I think I preferred sweetheart." she commented.

He pushed himself away from Chaff, almost making Eleven's victor fall in the process, and stumbled closer to her. She tried to catch him before he could do something stupid, like trip and hurt himself, but she ended up with her back to the wall, pinned by his whole body. He propped his forearm above her head and, since he looked steady enough like that, she let go of his waist.

"She said she wanted to blow me off in the restroom." he informed her.

She couldn't help but wince when his breath rolled over her face.

"I do hope she offered you a mint first." she deadpanned, immediately looking in her clutch for just that. She always had some on her for this very reason – for him or for her after a smoke. "Open up."

He obediently opened his mouth and let her place the candy on his tongue. She tried to ignore Chaff's chortlings at their antics.

"You're saying I smell bad." Haymitch astutely deduced – and given how intoxicated he was, it must have been more complicated than it looked.

"You should go to bed." she replied, glancing over his shoulder at Eleven's victor. "Perhaps it would be best if you stayed on the couch, Chaff. Or in one of the empty rooms if you must. I am not sure you should go back alone in your state."

It was only an elevator ride but… She had learned not to take the possible damages a drunk man could do – to others and to himself – lightly.

"You smell good." Haymitch mumbled, either not aware or not caring that they had an audience. He leaned in to nuzzle her neck and she firmly placed her hands on his chest to keep him at a reasonable distance.

"I'm good, love." Chaff answered. He took one step, swayed, and then made a face. "Okay, maybe I'm gonna take the couch."

"Good choice." she snorted, turning her attention back to her own victor. "As for you…"

"She had a green mouth." he muttered as if he hadn't been interrupted. "Didn't want that around my dick…"

"Alright." she hastily cut him off. "First, language. Second, I really do not need to hear every detail of your one-night-stand."

"Oh, he didn't score…" Chaff mocked while he made his slow stumbling way to the living-room. He didn't even turn back to look at her.

"She had a green mouth." he repeated again, running his fingers on her collarbone. She tossed a quick look at Chaff's retreating back but he disappeared around the corner without a glance. "Your skin's so soft…"

"And wasn't her skin soft?" she hissed, making an effort to keep her annoyance under check.

His grey eyes bore into hers and, drunk or not, she thought he had figured it out.

"She didn't kiss good." he said. "Not like you."

She reached out and brushed her fingertip against one of the teeth marks on his neck. "You certainly let her kiss you a lot of times for someone who did not kiss that well."

"I wanted to for a while." he admitted. "Then…"

"Then, what?" she sighed, gently but firmly steering him in the direction of his bedroom.

"Then I wanted you." he said and she faltered.

He could say the sweetest things sometimes – usually when he was wasted out of his mind and wouldn't remember them the following morning.

"So you did not let her give you a blow job?" she clarified, nudging the bedroom door shut with her foot behind them. With Chaff in the penthouse, she didn't want any conversation to be accidentally overheard.

She made a face at the state his bedroom was in but still helped him to sit on the bed. He immediately flopped down on his back, his eyes on her the whole time.

"Nah." he shook his head. His lips stretched into a smirk and his voice took a whiny tone. "Trinky…"

"Enough with that ridiculous name." she shushed him, crouching to take off his shoes.

He mulled that over for a few seconds. "Effie."

"Better." she humored him, placing a knee on the bed to finish unbuttoning his shirt. His hand immediately coiled around the back of her thigh. He didn't do anything really, he just held on to her, his thumb drawing distracting circles on her skin. "Haymitch." she warned.

"You're gonna suck me off?" he asked.

She almost burst out laughing. Trust men to never lose sight of their goal when it was about sex.

"No." she replied, moving to his belt. She unbuckled it quickly and unzipped his pants, unable not to notice that he wasn't indifferent to what was going on. She pretended she didn't realize.

He was pouting when she tugged his pants off him. "Why?"

"Because you are wasted, Haymitch." she answered.

"I don't mind." he immediately protested, taking the hand she outstretched to help him up to a sitting position.

"I do." she shrugged, slipping his shirt off. "Now, get some sleep. I have a feeling you will have a difficult morning." She should have expected it but she didn't see it coming. He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her down with him and she shrieked in surprise. "Haymitch!" She tried to make him loosen his grip but he wouldn't let her go. He wasn't trying to start anything though, so, after a few seconds, she stopped struggling and pursed her lips, cushioning her head on her bent arm. They stared at each other for a while, lying on their sides. He had that soft smirk on his lips… "You are a ridiculous man." she declared, as much for his benefits as for hers.

"Tell me a story." he demanded.

His breath was a mix of whiskey, scotch and mint. Not quite pleasant.

"Should I make it a fairy tale and tuck you in when I am done?" she mocked.

"Sassy." he accused.

"Perhaps." she granted, eyes twinkling in amusement.

"Tell me something about you." he insisted.

That wasn't an usual request and she pondered it for a moment. What she wanted to share and what she wanted to keep. How much of her persona she wanted to drop. How dangerous it would be to let him see behind the mask.

She settled for something safe in the end. Something inconsequential.

"My mother has this favorite wig… A lucky charm of sort. She wears it at every big event she throws." she explained. "Once, I put some itching powder in it after she made a very distasteful comment on my figure. She spent the whole party trying not to be too obvious when she scratched her head."

He chuckled a lot more than the anecdote warranted but she figured alcohol must have made the story funnier.

"Did she find out?" he asked.

"I am still alive, am I not?" she grinned. "That should answer your question."

"How old were you?" he snorted.

"Well, it was two weeks ago. I will leave the math to you." she deflected. Her nephew was still trying to figure out what had happened to his itching powder, poor child.

He laughed so hard that tears gathered in his eyes.

"You're crazy." he said when he calmed down.

"You are drunk." she retorted with a huff.

He watched her for a minute and then leaned in to press his forehead against hers. "Wait 'till I'm asleep, yeah?"

She ran her fingers through his hair, distractedly trying to untangle it, not understanding how it must feel to be so afraid to go to sleep. She knew he dreaded the nightmares. How could she not when she was woken up by his screams every few nights, even a corridor away?

"Of course." she whispered.

"You're the best, Trinky." he mumbled, tightening his grip on her waist as if she was nothing more than a giant teddy bear.

"Try to remember that when you are awake, would you?" she teased without any heat.

He would have forgotten the next day but… it didn't matter.