Prompt: Hi, I have a history idea but I do not know if I'm sending this to the correct place. So what happens, Johanna, Chaff and Finnick decide to go to the penthouse to drink with Haymitch but when they arrive he is not in the living room, soon they begin to hear m*** and screams coming from the room and it is Hayffie having sex. Peeta and Katniss may be in history as well.

The Sex Peacekeeper Squad

They spilled out of the elevator in a disorderly fashion, Chaff on point. He immediately turned to Finnick and Johanna, a finger pressed to his lips to silence their drunken snickers.

"Shh." he reminded them, far too loud. "If Trinket hears, we're fucked."

If Trinket heard, they were good for a long annoying lecture about respectable behavior and what a disgrace they were to their respective District. And then, of course, she would probably call their escorts and they would be banished to their floor where they would be lectured some more about how getting drunk was bad.

Trinket always took the fun out of everything.

"Maybe she'll want a drink." Finnick sounded far too hopeful and Chaff rolled his eyes, wondering when the kid would get over that silly crush of his. Then again, he had been wondering the same thing about Haymitch for years.

"I can't stand the bitch." Jo grumbled.

Chaff patted her arm approvingly and put his finger to his lips again.

It was late and it had been a while since Twelve's team had left the party raging below, the three of them had cut it a bit late, too busy getting drunk in their corner to realize almost everyone was gone. None of them wanted to call it a night though and they had decided to try their luck at a club downtown. But, Chaff had declared, slamming his umpteenth glass of rum of the night on the table, they couldn't go anywhere without Haymitch.

They would rescue him from the penthouse and then they could all go have a merry end of a night.

The lights were still on so they carefully made their way to the living-room, taking pain to be silent and, thus, bumping into piece of every furniture and snickering like idiots – well, Finnick and Jo snickered while Chaff shushed them some more.

The living-room turned out to be empty. There was an abandoned half-touched glass of white wine – Trinkets' Chaff supposed – and an empty tumbler on the coffee table – Haymitch's more likely than not…

"That's gonna be tough…" Chaff muttered. "We've got to get him from his room without waking the bitch."

"Effie's not a bitch." Finnick grumbled but when Chaff turned in the direction of the bedrooms, the boy still followed.

Why did these floors have so many bedrooms? He tried to count the doors but ended up scratching his head with his stump, unable to remember which ones were the – now dead – tributes and which one Haymitch usually used.

And then, he heard it.

It was nothing at first, a tiny whimper that he almost thought came from his mind because half of the reason why he wanted Haymitch to come along was to act as his wingman. Finnick was too young and too attractive and Jo was too snarky. Haymitch knew how to rail them in and smoothly hand them over his way. However the sound echoed again, a little louder…

The three of them remained there, frozen, listening to a crescendo of 'Haymitch', 'yes', 'harder' and a series of impressively high cries. There were answering grunts that couldn't be mistaken too.

Finnick and Johanna tried to muffle their laughter, holding on to each other to stay upright, their balance compromised by the amount of alcohol they had downed. Chaff crept closer to the door he now remembered belonged to Haymitch, muffling his own laughter against his stump.

He wasn't sure why it was so funny, just that in his state it was hilarious.

"Come on…" Finnick managed to squeak out between two rounds of chuckles. "Let's get out."

"Who do you think it is?" Johanna asked in a whisper. "Didn't notice him hooking up with anyone…"

Finnick and Chaff exchanged a look because despite their drunk state, they had a very good idea of who Haymitch was fucking right at that moment.

"Come on." Finnick repeated, dragging Johanna back toward the elevator.

He paused at the end of the corridor, waiting for Chaff to follow but Chaff was staring at the door, remembering just how many times Haymitch had lied to his face about what was going on between him and his escort and… The sounds she was making. Shit but it sounded like she was in heat or something. It made his pants uncomfortably tight too.

Haymitch had been lying to him for years and he had always known that, had accepted that because, really, the lie had always been more or less tacitly acknowledged as thus, but he was drunk and he wanted to go have fun outside and he wanted his best friend to come along with him, not spend his night screwing his bitchy escort.

And it had been a while since he had played a prank on him.

That was why Chaff suddenly hammered his fist on the door. At least, that was what he told himself.

Inside the bedroom, everything went deadly silent.

Even the faint echo of flesh slapping against flesh stopped. There was a soft out of breath "Haymitch" that seemed completely panicked and he realized that maybe the hammering on a door at night without explanations in a place that wasn't supposed to be accessible to everyone might not be the best prank.

"It's the sex Peacekeepers!" he called out. "You're under arrest for being too loud!"

Finnick was staring at him with wide incredulous eyes but Johanna burst out laughing, apparently finding the whole thing hilarious. Chaff loved that kid, she had a sense of humor and she didn't confuse escorts for people either. He laughed too because, really, it was hilarious. The sex Peacekeepers…

"Come on! Finish up, buddy!" he added next, foregoing the joke. "There's a bottle with your name on it when you're done!"

No answer.

No sound.

Not even a whisper.

"Need some encouragements?" he insisted. "Don't get shy on us! Make her sing! Shit, can that woman scream!" He laughed at his own joke, hitting the door with the flat of his palm. "Hey, does she…"

The door opened and he laughed harder because Haymitch looked murderous.

Twelve's victor was red in the face, fresh bite marks obvious on his neck and chest, he was wearing a pair of sweatpants that couldn't be comfortable given the impressive bulge.

"Should have finished, buddy." Chaff mocked, reaching for the doorframe to steady himself. "Fuck, does she think you're a chew toy?" He peered at the room behind Haymitch's shoulder. "Where's she hiding? That voice. Does she scream like that all the time or were you particularly…"

He wasn't expecting to be shoved back and he wasn't sober enough to catch himself. He stumbled against the wall and slid down until he was sitting on the purple carpet. He laughed so hard he almost peed himself. Johanna was still laughing too.

"Your face." she cackled. "Shit, what kind of slut did you pick tonight, Haymitch? Did we spoil your fun?"

"What the fuck are doing here?" Haymitch spat, glaring at each of them in turn, his eyes lingering on Finnick.

Maybe because the boy looked like the most sober one.

"We wanted to go out. We came to get you." Four's victor explained, his words a little slurred. "Then we heard… I'm sorry, Haymitch, I don't know why he did that."

"Cause it was fucking funny!" Johanna guffawed, tearing her arm out of Finnick's grip to stumble closer, trying to get a peek inside Haymitch's room too. Chaff had a good vantage point from where he was sitting and it looked empty aside for the crumpled sheets that had half tumbled to the floor. "Where's she? I wanna see what she looks like. Do you always drive women wild like that or is she just that much of a slut?" The girl tossed Twelve's victor a look that might have been sultry if she hadn't been so drunk. "Maybe I should find out for myself."

"That's never happening." Haymitch retorted coldly, his grey eyes snapping to Finnick. "Get her back to her floor and go to bed. You've drunk enough for tonight."

"You're gonna lecture us on drinking?" Johanna scoffed, probably vexed by his rebuff.

Finnick had better sense than contesting though.

"Sorry." the kid repeated, looking properly chastised, taking hold of Jo again.

He dragged the girl away without another glance for Chaff and Eleven's victor resented that because now Haymitch's glare was directed only at him.

"She's hiding in the bathroom, yeah?" he snorted. "What? Can't own up to…"

"Shut the fuck up." his best friend growled. "You've crossed a line."

He rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on… Ain't like everyone doesn't know she's…"

"How long were you out there?" Haymitch sneered. "How long have you been listening? That's sick, Chaff."

"Ain't been there that long." he protested. "Sex Peacekeepers… Come on, it was funny."

"No, it wasn't." his best friend snapped. "It was private."

"Buddy, there ain't a soul in this business who doesn't know you've fucked Trinket once or twice." he scoffed. "Hell, now I get why… She feels as good as she sounds?"

Chaff wasn't expecting to be hauled off the floor and pinned to the wall by his throat and the sudden change in position made his stomach lurch. He couldn't fight both the nausea and Haymitch. He chose to try not to puke all over his best friend. Because he was considerate like that.

It was a close thing though, he could taste rum at the back of his mouth.

"I'm gonna cut you some slack cause you're torched." Haymitch hissed through his teeth. "But you best get out of here now and keep your mouth shut about this. We ain't ever talking about tonight."

"What a shock." he commented bitterly, swatting at the fist bundling the lapel of his shirt. From the start, Haymitch had refused to dish about his escort when they had never been shy of discussing their one-night-stands before. It was part of the reason why Chaff knew this thing was different for his friend, why he hated it so much – victor and escort, it could only end badly. "What's your problem? So what if I heard you fuck Trinket? Seemed to me like you were doing something right… No reason to be embarrassed."

Haymitch actually drew him closer only to slam him back against the wall.

Chaff drunkenly thought he was trying to shake some sense into him.

"You think a woman likes people listening to her having sex unaware?" Haymitch growled. "Never mind when the guy in question keeps trying to cope a feel when she clearly said she ain't interested."

There wasn't even a denial that the woman was Trinket and that made his eyebrows shoot up but he didn't like what his friend was implying. "Don't make it sound like that."

"Like what?" Twelve's victor scowled, finally letting go of him.

He struggled to keep his footing. "Like I'm some kind of pervert."

"Newsflash, Chaff. Normal people don't spy on their friends when they're having sex." Haymitch retorted.

"It was an accident and it was just a joke." he countered defensively, rubbing his throat. "A poor one, maybe. Okay. Fine. But your girl ain't ever shy of telling me when she doesn't want me touching her." She had twisted his wrist and threatened to cut bits off him enough times over the years. "If she didn't want me patting her ass…"

"She never wants you patting her ass." Haymitch snarled. "Fuck, I don't want you touching her. You don't even want her, you just like to humiliate her. Like tonight."

He and Haymitch stared at each other. A part of Chaff wanted to get angry about Haymitch taking her side again because lately it felt as if it was always what happened. Haymitch took Trinket's side every time he and Trinket argued. Not always openly, not always in front of her, but it was what it was.

Another part of him recognized that he might have gone a little too far, that the prank hadn't been funny at all and that Haymitch wasn't wrong. The only reason he had interrupted them, the only reason he had let them know they had been caught was because he had known it would make Trinket squirm.

"Want me to say sorry? I'll say sorry." he finally sighed. "You can't stop hiding, love, I won't laugh at your face."

He was pretty sure Trinket had been listening to the entire conversation but she didn't come out of the bathroom. Or was she in the wardrobe?

"Get back to your floor." Haymitch demanded. "And avoid me for a couple of days if you know what's good for you 'cause I really want to punch you."

He frowned and kept staring at Haymitch's bedroom over his shoulder. "She's really that upset?"

"What do you think?" Haymitch growled, pushing him down the corridor, steering him toward the elevator.

"I'm sorry." he said and, this time, he meant it.

The whole thing felt shitty all of a sudden.

He hadn't meant…

Well, maybe he had but Haymitch was his best friend and Trinket was stealing him away and he was so drunk…

It would have been easier if Haymitch been drunk too.

Maybe he would have gotten it, then.

It didn't have anything to do with him screwing Trinket per se, he just missed him. And he was a little jealous of the fact she had become more important to his best friend than he was…