Prompt: Hi! I've been reading your stories for nearly a year now and I really enjoy them – you're a great writer! I have a slightly (very) crack idea for a prompt inspired by Ariana Grande's song Side to Side, where Effie can't walk in a straight line in the morning after a night with Haymitch. I feel like it would open up for a lot of teasing from Haymitch that would be funny to read. Maybe pre-HG or a 5-times-and-1 style one shot? Up to you ! X

A Sore Price

The kids were skittish and it was why Haymitch usually avoided making an appearance at breakfast, all the more so when Effie wasn't there to play buffer. He tried to ask about Training, if only to shut up his guilty conscience, but all he got was some mumbles about bigger teenagers who were bullies. The girl didn't seem to know where to look when she addressed him, she was red in the face. He pulled his dressing gown shut tighter so no hint of his bare chest could be seen. Being a prude wouldn't help her in the arena but he figured she was entitled to some respect for as long as she could get.

Although he resented it a little. He had put on pants and a dressing gown. He wasn't always that considerate when it was only him and Effie in the penthouse.

He gave them some advices that they didn't take seriously enough. He could see it, the looks they exchanged, as if listening to him would be worse than going to the Games without a mentor. He wasn't sure at which point he had become such a joke that people from his own District instructed their children not to take him into account. He would have Effie repeat it again later, they responded better to her – not that they liked her but she had shown from the start she was there to help when he had vaguely scoffed and declared they should get ready to die. Maybe she had a point when she said he needed to work on his introduction speech.

He was relieved when the clicking of heels could finally be heard. She stormed in with her usual unchecked energy and a blinding smile.

"My apologies for being so late!" she chimed. "Good morning, children! Good morning, Haymitch."

The kids muttered greetings, quickly fleeing the table when she hovered behind them correcting their eating habits. She pouted a little but reached for the coffee pot and poured herself a cup. She walked around the table and propped her hips against it to steal what was left of his blueberry muffin.

"What took you so long?" he snorted. "Too tired?"

Faced with his smug smirk and his twinkling eyes, she huffed. "Hardly."

"Yeah, hardly is how I recall it." he teased.

She pursed her green painted lips, tilting her head a little to the side – not a hair moved from her silver and blue wig styled as a huge puffy bun on the top of her skull, it left her nape bare and he already knew it would be taunting him all day.

"You left marks." she accused him.

His eyes slowly roamed on her throat and on the small amount of cleavage that particular dress offered, checking as much as taking in the view… "Can't see any."

"Yes, that would be thanks to the half bottle of liquid foundation I had to use." she deadpanned. "And that's only on my neck and collarbones. I could not get a proper look at my back but what I saw was enough. Did you mistake my shoulder blades for chew toys by any chance?"

He stood up, trapping her between his body and the table. "Didn't hear you complain, sweetheart… In fact… All I heard was 'more, Haymitch' and 'yes' and some pretty impressive moaning…" He brushed his nose against her cheek as he brought his mouth to her ear. "Fucking hot, you were…"

And the memory was enough to give him a boner. She placed a hand on his chest to push him away a little, flashing him a chiding look.

"Do not get any ideas." she warned.

"Bet I could have you screaming right here on that table before Avoxes show up to clear it." he challenged.

"Five times." she reminded him. "Aren't you sated yet?"

He was thirty-five and he was celibate most of the year. He was far from being sated. Besides, one of those times had involved his mouth and his hands so it didn't count for him.

Some night it had been though… Once at the very boring party, once in the car, eating her up in the momentarily stopped elevator, the particularly hot session in her bed with her on her stomach and the lazy bout in the shower because some cleaning up had been overdue. He had been forced to carry her back to bed afterward because she had been so exhausted her legs hadn't been able to stop shaking. She had been deep asleep when he had left for his own room.

"Are you?" he snorted.

He expected some more banter because they hadn't been able to keep their hands off each other lately. There was something new to their affair. It was less hate sex after a fight and more… sex all the time for no good reason at all. He didn't know what it was about the Seventieth Hunger Games but… He wasn't going to look at it too closely. They were having the best sex he ever had.

"For now, yes, I am." she replied without batting an eyelash. "Go get dressed, we have work to do."

"Bossy." he commented, lifting an eyebrow. "Maybe you should help me get dressed, sweetheart."

She tried to remain serious but she turned her away to hide her smile and she couldn't help a chuckle or two. He took the opportunity to press a kiss on the side of her neck. It tasted like make-up and it made him wrinkle his nose. He hated that taste.

"Do not undo my work." she rebuked, pushing on his chest again. "Go get dressed, Haymitch. I have a meeting with a sponsor scheduled in an hour, we cannot be late."

"Fine." he relented. "But I'm gonna fuck you again before the day is through."

She rolled her eyes and shoved him back a little more firmly. It was cute that she thought she could make him move when she was as strong as a kitten. He humored her though. It was always good to humor her a little.

The outfit she had picked was good enough for him – once thing he was grateful for with Effie was that, unlike previous escorts, she didn't try to impose current Capitol fashion on him, she allowed him outfits that were trendy but that he could live with, it was a compromise but one that worked – although he left out the tie.

He came back to the living-room after some fifteen minutes – time enough to get ready and to get a few mouthfuls of liquor in his body – expecting to find her on the couch, reviewing schedules or sponsors files. She was checking her notepad but she was doing it standing up, leaning against the bay window, a foot hooked around the back of her other ankle.

"I sent the children to Training." she told him without looking up from the page. "We have five minutes before we need to leave. We are going to a restaurant for brunch, Haymitch, so I would thank you to put the tie back on."

"That tie would look better around your wrists." he taunted. It was just a joke though. Tying her up… He didn't trust himself enough for that, as appealing as the idea might sometimes be.

"The tie, Haymitch." she said firmly, still not looking up.

That annoyed him. He didn't like it when she ignored him or dismissed him like that, like he was just a chore for her to bear or a toy she took off the shelf when it suited her. He snatched the notepad from her and pinned her against the bay windows, his free hand on her hip.

The kiss was brutal and it took her aback. After a second, she responded to it just as violently. His fingers left her hip to grab her thigh, hooking her leg up, aligning their bodies enough that…

She drew back with a hiss and he froze.

"You're okay?" he asked, easing his grip on her. It had been pretty rough the previous night, he had bruises and scratches everywhere and he was ready to bet the same was true for her.

"I am fine." she replied "We will be late. Please, put on your tie."

She was lying, he thought, but he couldn't quite decide about what. He let her go and did put on the tie if only to bring a flicker of a smile back on her lips.

He was surprised when she insisted on walking to the restaurant. District teams had cars at their disposal twenty-four hours a day and Effie wasn't a fan of walking when she didn't have to – and with the heels she was perched on he couldn't quite blame her for it. He, on the other hand, liked to walk so he didn't protest but he kept watching her in the corner of his eyes.

She was just as chatty as usual, her cheerful escort self, but there was something off about her. It took him a while to realize it was the way she strode straight on. He usually had to adjust his pace to hers – because, despite her long legs, he was taller than she was – but right then, she was taking purposeful giant steps that made her look a little funny.

"We're late or something?" he grumbled, not really enthusiastic about this sponsor meeting in the first place. It never amounted to anything and it was always uncomfortable.

She faltered a little and slowed down her pace. "Not at all."

She picked up her previous topic again, waving her hands left and right as she talked, but there was a strain in her voice and a slight wince every few steps.

"You're sure you're okay?" he asked, as they came in sight of the restaurant she usually chose for sponsor meetings. It was expensive, the staff was haughty and he hated the place with passion.

"Right as rain." she hummed, stopping long enough to make sure his tie was straight. "Now, do behave and let me do the talking."

"Sure." He rolled his eyes, irritated with her. "I'll just sit there and look pretty."

"You do that, dear." she grinned, patted him on the arm.

He vowed to pat something else of hers later.

"Don't call me dear." he muttered as he pushed the restaurant's door, automatically holding it out for her – the things she had drilled into him…

She ducked under his arm to go in, chuckling a little. "Of course. How stupid of me to forget you have the pet names privileges in this relationship."

"Not a relationship." he was quick to correct, the word making him want to flee to the other end of the city.

She didn't even blink. "Poor choice of word."

It calmed him down a little but not a lot.

The fact that the sponsor they were meeting was one he really didn't like helped distract him though. He tried to bite back the clever retorts, the bitter comments and the loathing gibes – if only because the guy might give them some money.

He hated the way the man was looking at them however – at the two of them – like they were some really mouth-watering dessert he wanted to taste. Haymitch was always left with a strong urge to punch the Capitol sponsor.

Effie played it like she usually did: seductive. The man liked to think himself clever so she acted dumb, giggling a lot at her own fake intellectual clumsiness.

Her smile was a bit strained though and flickers of something kept disrupting her carefully constructed mask of flimsy escort. The sponsor didn't seem to notice but Haymitch did.

Something was definitely off.

She was squirming in a way she rarely did – never when he didn't have his mouth between her legs at least – and for a moment he wondered if she was turned on. She crossed her legs and then uncrossed them only to cross them again… She leaned forward or backward as if to alleviate pressure…

The thing that kept flashing on her face, there and gone in a second, wasn't pleasure though. It was pain.

He was pretty sure he had done nothing to bruise her ass so it couldn't come from there, which meant…

Five times might have been a time too many.

"Well, this was a waste." Effie sighed, as they finally exited the restaurant.

"So you say every year." he mocked. "And yet here we are."

"You never know. One day he might actually do something more than just being a creep and squeeze himself through his pants at the thought of the two us together." she scowled, not as oblivious to the guy's fantasies as he had thought. He wasn't sure why he was so surprised by that. She excelled at reading people and the man wasn't being subtle. It was a miracle he hadn't yet offered a threesome – or maybe he had and she had kept the information from him. "Perhaps you should go to the mentor lounge and see what you can find out about our opponents…"

She was usually the one doing the digging. Victors were far too careful to let anything slip, some of the escorts now…

"You're ditching me. You've got plans?" he snorted.

"Not at all." she immediately denied. "I still have some paperwork to fill so I will go back to the penthouse and…"

"Put ice between your legs?" he cut her off in a teasing tone.

She froze for a second and then quickened her strides. "I do not know what you are talking about. How vulgar of you. Truly, you…"

"Save it." he interrupted again, grabbing her arm to stop her and immediately letting go because they were in the middle of the street and he didn't need anyone sniffing out the scent of scandal. It would end up on Caesar's special before they even reached the Games Compound. "How hurt are you?"

She studied him and then pursed her lips, averting her eyes. "I am not hurt per se. I am simply… rather sore."

"Sore." he repeatedly flatly, acutely aware that people were pointing at them and that it wouldn't be long before someone asked for pictures or autographs if they didn't get a move on. He nudged her on, careful to adjust his pace to hers since he didn't know how bad it actually was. "The fuck does that mean?"

"It means… It burns." she admitted, clearing her throat. "I do hope it is just the result of last night and not some horrible disease you…"

"You're the only one I go with without a condom, sweetheart." he sneered. "If anyone gives the other stuff…"

"I am clean." she huffed. "It is frankly insulting that you would even imply…"

"Calm your tits, sweetheart. Just joking." he taunted. He buried his hands in his pockets, feeling awkward. "You're sure it's just sore, yeah? You're not… hurt hurt?"

Because hurting her was the last thing he wanted to do.

But he had a bad track record.

"I am sure I will be fine tomorrow." She shot him a side look, her lips stretching into a rare genuine smile. "If you can hold on for that long, that is."

Haymitch rolled his eyes, not quite able to stop himself from smirking.

Not that he would admit it out loud but he usually held on half the year for her, so… A day wasn't that long to go.