Prompt: hiitzmethatfangirl wanted something based on this fanart post/135827065734/what-excuse-do-you-have-to-be-tired-you-havent by freebooter4ever
The Mad Dash
It wasn't really professional but Effie had kicked off her shoes and was half-lying on the couch, trying to make sense of her notes. The speeches for their visit to Six were ready and, if she said so herself, quite on point, but if the disaster in Eleven had taught her one thing it was that it was of the upmost important to double check everything was perfect.
She hadn't anticipated this Tour to be that exhausting.
Her glass of wine laid forgotten next to the couch and her eyes, despite her best intentions, kept glazing over the text. She was tired, the unrelenting barely perceptible humming of the train's engine lulling her to sleep.
The whooshing sound that signaled the doors opening startled her and she rose on her elbow, alarmed at the idea of being caught in such an improper position. Her back was to the doors and she strained her neck to see who it was.
She lied back down, her whole body relaxing again, when she saw it was just Haymitch.
"There you are." he muttered, sounding as tired as she felt.
"Were you looking for me?" she hummed, making another attempt at re-reading the speech she now knew by heart but unable to decide how it would sound in Katniss' mouth.
Haymitch had disappeared with Cinna a little after dinner, long before the children and Portia had retired. She had assumed he had already gone to bed or had found a bottle to spend the night with – she couldn't have been too far off the mark because he was wearing white and blue stripped cotton pajamas pants and nothing else.
"Been looking in your bed…" He snorted. "Stupid of me to think you'd stop working before one a.m." He plucked the cards from her hands and tossed them on the coffee table. "We've been over this speech ten times already. It's as good as it's gonna get."
He was right, of course, but still.
The children might think her a fool but she was aware of the stakes even if no one had spelled them out for her.
Haymitch propped a hand on the armrest next to her head and grabbed the back of the couch with the other, effectively towering over her. He was standing behind her and she had to strain her neck a little to see everything, it forced her to arch her back, just a little, not quite on purpose…
Not a bad view, she mused, not a bad view at all.
She took her time looking, from the not-quite flat stomach and its huge scar to the pale hair on his chest, the strong neck, the hard line of his jaw, the smirk hiding in the unkempt stubble she hadn't yet managed to convince him to shave… His stubble was starting to grow more salt and pepper than dirty blond nowadays. It should have discouraged her but it was a strange turn-on instead.
Like everything about him.
Everything she was supposed to be disgusted by, she loved on him.
Even his weird-shaped toes.
"And why were you hoping to catch me in bed, I wonder?" she hummed, her own lips stretching into a lazy grin.
His grey eyes held hers for a moment and then did their own inspection, from her offered throat to her legs. One was bent on the couch, the other was trailing off the couch in the most undignified position…
"This might be the worst dress you've ever worn." he declared instead of answering her question.
Perhaps because it hadn't really been a serious question.
"Truly?" She frowned, disappointed. "I ordered it in red too…" The dress was mostly layers upon layers of pale lavender tulle, fitted at the waist by a green belt. She quite liked it. This one was perfect for a quiet day spent on a train but she was planning on using the red one for a red carpet or something like that eventually. "You have no eye for fashion."
"You look like a giant sponge." he mocked, crouching behind her head. His chin was propped on the armrest next to her cheek, his hands ghosted on her collarbones…
"Do you find sponges particularly arousing?" she deadpanned. "Because for a dress, you claim to hate, you certainly seemed transfixed by it all day."
It was extremely funny to her how he thought she wasn't aware of his ogling her when she wasn't looking – as if she couldn't feel his gaze on her like a physical weight, sometimes hot and sometimes yearning.
"Maybe 'cause there's only one good thing about it…" he taunted, his hands sliding down her collarbones and under the puffy layers of tulle. He didn't have to go far to meet her breasts and he snorted when he felt her nipples already hard against his palms. "You're cold or just pleased to see me?"
Her eyelids fluttered shut because of his gentle palming, her breathing grew short… She had to make an effort to remain composed, to keep her voice detached. He was barely playing. He wasn't seriously fooling around yet and she was already… "The fabric rubbed against them all day. They are sensitive."
He chuckled. "Yeah?"
His lips found the side of her neck, his hands became firmer, the palming turned into kneading… Without warning, he pinched a nipple and she sucked in a breath.
"Haymitch…" she whispered. It sounded urgent to her ears but she wasn't sure if it was a rebuke or a plea.
He pushed aside most of the tulle and fumbled to wedged it in her belt until her breasts were barely covered by a thin layer of fabric. Then he rose from his crouch and before she could register it, he was straddling her hips, careful not to put his whole weight on her. Before she could protest, he had bowed over and sucked her nipple in his mouth, tulle and all. The fabric was already scratchy but with his tongue and his teeth…
The mix of discomfort and bliss tore a whimper from her throat that made a smug smirk appear on his lips. He switched breasts and she reached for him, letting her hands explore the familiar planes of his shoulder blades, retracing the well-known paths of almost faded scars…
He bit down a little too hard and she arched her back with a small cry.
His hips buckled.
"We should…" She was struggling to form a coherent thought, one of her hands had automatically moved between his legs to grab what she could, to squeeze and stroke him into hardness… "We should move to my bedroom…"
"I want you." he argued, his mouth moving up to her throat… He licked a burning path to the soft vulnerable spot under her jaw, grabbed her chin to tilt her head to the side so he could nibble there, knowing it would distract her… And it did.
"Anyone could come in." she insisted, slipping her hand inside his pants as best as she could. The angle wasn't great and his torso was in the way, she was operating blind.
"The kids have turned in." he growled in the aggravated tone that meant he wanted her to shut up. "Cinna and Portia are probably busy fucking each other like rabbits. We're good."
They were not good.
"Train attendants…" she countered. It came out a little breathless because his hands were tugging at her belt now.
"Train attendants know better than stalk us when we're in a mood." he cut her off, smirking at her. His eyebrows rose high and his eyes twinkled with amusement. "You think nobody noticed we were in a mood all day?"
She thought they really weren't as good as they claimed at keeping whatever it was they were a secret.
Most of the staff on the train had been with Twelve for a while and most of them knew how to handle them: they knew to stay away when Haymitch was in his cup and never to try and clean him up, never mind undress him, even if he was covered in sick; they knew never to annoy Effie when they were off-schedule; they knew their personal preferences and habits like the fact Haymitch never turned down a mug of herbal tea at night and Effie would need at the very least two cups of dark bitter coffee in the morning… They knew everything they needed to know to be efficient and unobtrusive. And, yes, they probably knew that when Haymitch's eyes lingered on her as much as they had that day and when he found all the available excuses to accidentally touch her, that meant they should keep their distance from whatever room they had decided to desecrate.
Still, the doors weren't locked and the risk of getting caught was considerable enough to give her pause.
Too bad it added a thrill she had never been able to turn down. As he was well aware.
Haymitch knew he had won and his smirk widened a little. "Sometimes, I think you'd like to give someone a show, sweetheart."
"I am not the one opposed to threesome." she retorted.
His hips buckled but a dark glint shone in his eyes, replacing the twinkle of amusement.
"I don't share." he growled, aggressively tugging the belt off. She opened her mouth to tease him further but before she could say a word, he had somehow grabbed the fabric and ripped it so that the dress – the very expensive haute couture dress – fell flat on either side of her, baring her body down to her navel.
She stared down at the mess and then glared at him, propping herself on her left elbow, shoving his chest away. "I am going to kill you. There was a zipper, Haymitch. Why are you always suck a caveman! You…"
The kiss interrupted the rant.
It was hard and messy and unforgiving and she tried to shove him off but the moment he hinted at drawing back she pulled him toward her. His hands became urgent on her body but she growled a threat into his mouth when he tried to rip what was left of the dress so he could reach between her legs. He wisely relocated his hands with a sigh of frustration.
She distracted him with her tongue, pulled on his bottom lip with her teeth, made the kiss so impossible to ignore that he startled when she reached into his pants again but thrust into her hand with abandon nonetheless… He barely noticed when she moved them so she was the one straddling him…
"Want you…" he mumbled against her lips, her throat, her breasts… "Want you…"
She stroked him a few more times, tight and fast as he liked best, licking and biting at his neck… When he closed his eyes and dropped his head back, she planted a kiss on his pulse point and stood up.
His eyelids immediately opened at the loss of contact. His confused and dazzled expression was adorable – not that she would ever tell him that.
"Effie…"
Oh, but she did like it when he whined her name like that…
She smiled at him and wriggled out of her dress, kicking her thong off too. She could have made a show of it but her underwear was already soaked and she wasn't in any mood to play anymore.
His grey eyes fell at the apex of her thighs and he grunted, grabbing her hips and pulling her closer, his hands sliding to her ass as his mouth found her clit…
She gasped, instinctively burying her fingers in his hair… Her legs were trembling by the time she found the strength to push him back. She didn't want to come on his tongue. She wanted… She wanted more.
She used her grip on his hair to pull his head away from her, tilting it back just because she enjoyed being the one looming over the other for once.
"Get naked." she ordered.
"Say please." he retorted, his fingers digging hard into the flesh of her ass.
"No." she refused, unable to stop herself from grinning.
She was expecting it but she still half-yelped, half-chuckled when he abruptly grabbed her, pulling her down so she was lying underneath him on the couch.
"Bit rude that." he remarked, gently nipping the underside of her breast. "I'm rubbing off on you."
"If you could rub a little faster…" she deadpanned.
He snorted against the flat plane between her breasts and then he was gone. She immediately felt cold without the warmth of his body covering hers but she liked the sight of him standing next to the couch, hurrying to get rid of his pants. She liked it so much that she couldn't help herself. As soon as he had freed his erection she sat up and started kissing his stomach, his thighs and, finally, she sucked him whole in her mouth, forcing herself to relax when he hit the back of her throat so she wouldn't gag or choke.
"Fuck." he spat, his hands falling on her shoulders, moving to the back of her neck. "Fuck, fuck, fuck…"
She let him slip out of her mouth slowly, making sure to keep the pressure, licking the precum from his head…
"That's certainly the idea…" she purred. She grabbed him at his base, parted her lips again…
"Put it back in your mouth and I'm gonna come." he warned.
She hesitated but then drew back, her nose wrinkled. "I want you inside me."
"Fuck, yeah." he agreed immediately, pushing her back down on the couch and climbing between her legs. He slid his hands on her thighs but she moved before he could guide her legs. They were too attuned to each other not to know what the other wanted. She hooked her knees over his shoulders and braced herself against the armrest just in time for him to line himself up with her center… "Touch yourself. Won't last long."
She didn't need much more stimulations than the powerful hard thrusts but she still played with her clit, just because she knew he liked watching her do that. Every thrusts almost broke her in two and yet she wouldn't have escaped for the world. She was barely aware of the keening sounds she was making and she wouldn't have noticed them turning to piercing cries if he hadn't muffled them by pressing his palm against her mouth.
"Quiet." he breathed against her jaw. "You've got to be quiet…"
Chances were someone would investigate strange cries on the train, she realized belatedly and she tried to be less vocal, she did, but it felt so good…
She gasped his name when her orgasm washed over her, spurring him to thrust harder… She was languid, basking in the afterglow… His pace became frantic and then he came with a long grunt, his hips hitting hers a few times with enough strength to leave bruises…
He remained slumped on her, his breathing labored…
She gave him a moment and then she nudged one of her legs off his shoulder... He was still holding her thighs and he got the hint, gently lowering her legs down, rubbing them a little so they couldn't cramp… It didn't help much, her muscles were twitching and it would be a few minutes before she was ready to walk.
He winced at the mess when he pulled out and immediately grabbed the pants he had abandoned on the floor to wipe at the couch. He gave up quickly and used the bunched up fabric to clean between her legs before tossing it back down on the floor and wedging his body between hers and the back of the couch.
Her body was exhausted and limp so she let him move her to her side so they could both fit comfortably enough. When she felt him spoon her, she closed her eyes.
"Don't fall asleep." he warned even though he sounded a little sleepy himself. "Don't wanna explain that to the kids tomorrow. The girl's always up at dawn."
She hummed a reassurance but she was already drifting. There was a chill in the air and her sweaty skin made it uncomfortable but Haymitch's body, although equally sweaty, was warm enough that she wasn't afraid of getting cold. She wouldn't have minded a blanket though.
"Sweetheart, don't fall asleep." he insisted, whacking her thigh.
It would have been more effective if he hadn't pushed his leg between hers. His stubble was itchy against her nape but she liked the scratching sensation when he nuzzled the back of her neck.
"Tired…" she complained.
"You can sleep when we're in bed." he countered.
She wanted to bask in that we for a little while. Admittedly, they had shared a bed more often since the beginning of the Tour than in all the years of their affair. He was finally starting to trust her to handle his night terrors, to trust that she wouldn't do the stupid thing and shake him awake, to trust that he wasn't about to accidentally kill her in a bout of delirium…
She must have basked longer than she had thought – or she had started drifting off again – because he nudged her a little more seriously. "Come on. Effie. Stand up."
She grumbled but she did roll off the couch and to her feet, aware that he was right and that it could have serious consequences if they fell asleep tangled and naked on the living-room car's couch. They might have risked it if it were any other year and there weren't stylists, prep teams and victors on the train but right then… It was bound to end up in disaster.
Her legs were unsteady and if he hadn't grabbed her, she was sure she would have embarrassed herself by sitting right back down.
"You're okay?" He was frowning, which told her everything she needed to know.
"You did not hurt me." She clucked her tongue. "Stop fretting." She willed her thighs to stop complaining and blinked at the mess of torn clothes on the floor, immediately seeing the problem. "Haymitch?" She kept her tone sweet and, since he was busy running his hand from her elbow to her wrist and back up, his mouth dropping lazy kisses to her shoulder, he didn't have the presence of mind to be wary. He simply grunted in question. "What are we supposed to wear?"
He froze and stopped kissing and touching her to follow her gaze to the ripped out dress and the disgusting pajama pants.
"Ah." he said in a flat voice before shrugging. "Let's go commando."
He snatched the clothes off the floor, bundled them under his arm and headed straight to the doors as if it was a perfectly suitable solution.
"Absolutely not!" she scoffed.
"We'll make a run for it." he insisted, his hand hovering over the button that would open the doors. "It's fine."
"No, it is not." she snapped. She pursed her lips and crossed her arms but her serious aggravated attitude would probably have been more effective if she hadn't been naked. He didn't look very impressed.
If anything, he looked aroused – even his penis wasn't as soft as it had been a second earlier.
"You should go fetch me some clothes." she decided. "Nobody will blink twice if they see you walking around naked."
He didn't even try not to look mocking. "Once I've gone through these doors, I ain't coming back."
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Haymitch."
He shook his head. "You can say my name as many times as you want, princess. I'm telling it like it is. I ain't fetching you clothes."
"It is your fault my dress in ruined." she insisted. His mouth was twitching even as he lifted his eyebrows to silently ask her what her point was. The fact that he was fighting a smile infuriated her even more. "I am not amused."
"On the bright side, you ain't sleepy either anymore." he taunted. She kept pouting and he rolled his eyes. "We did worse, sweetheart."
"Worse than running naked through the train's corridors?" she huffed, incredulous. "No we did not."
"That time in the club?" he deadpanned.
"No." That time in the club they had been in a dark corner in the VIP section and her skirt had been loose enough that he could have stepped away at any moment, nobody the wiser.
"That time I fingered you all through Snow's speech." he retorted immediately.
That one was more tricky. It had been… Well it had been foolish. Even if the room had been crowded and they had been at the very back and the speech had been very long and boring and…
"No." she insisted.
He rolled his eyes. "That time at that party we were fooling around in the library and those two Gamemakers showed up and didn't notice us…"
"Not even close." she snapped.
He looked at her as if she was being ridiculous on purpose. "Sweetheart, everybody's sleeping, it's a short run… It ain't worse than you sucking me off when two Gamemakers are talking about who the fuck knows what ten feet away."
He might have a point there.
Still.
"What if the children catch us?" she asked. "What kind of example would we be giving?"
"None they're gonna follow." he mocked. "Peeta ain't that lucky." He outstretched his hand. "Come on. Trust me, it's gonna be fine."
She hesitated, sighed with irritation but ended up grabbing his hand. Let's be real, she was always going to follow him anyway. Where wouldn't she follow him?
He didn't give her time to overthink, he tugged her along and they ended up running along the carpeted corridors, muffling their laughter because… Well, it was ridiculous, wasn't it? She wasn't even surprised that he pinned her to the closed door the moment they reached her bedroom. He tossed the ruined clothes on the floor and kissed her.
He didn't try to deepen it though and she didn't try to coax the embrace into more because her thighs were killing her and the mad dash down the corridors hadn't helped anything. She nudged him toward the bed instead, chuckling when his knees bumped against the mattress and he stumbled down, tugging her closer. She managed to remain on her feet and he didn't try to pull her down with him, he simply dropped a kiss on her stomach and then flopped on his back.
She let him get comfortable and disappeared in the bathroom to take care of business, wipe the make-up and take off her wig.
"Get your ass over here." Haymitch demanded after five minutes. "The sheets are fucking cold."
She still took her time removing the make-up and applying her nightly cream on her face. Usually she would have also spent a while brushing her hair – because once it was removed from the confine of the wig it was crumpled and could have benefited from some care – but she was so tired… She braided it quickly and wandered back into the bedroom, rubbing her face.
Haymitch, not unexpectedly, was sprawled eagle-style on his stomach in the middle of the bed and she had to poke him in the side a few times before he finally consented to roll aside with an annoyed grunt. He draped an arm over her waist and she nestled against his chest, closing her eyes in bliss.
"The things you make me do." she grumbled. She couldn't believe he had made her run naked down the corridors. She couldn't.
He snorted into her hair. "Just act clueless tomorrow when everyone asks what happened to the couch."
She hadn't actually gotten a good look at the couch.
"Was it that bad?" she winced.
"It's gonna dry up." He shrugged. "If we're lucky, it won't leave a stain." He paused and then snorted again. "Better take the armchairs tomorrow though…"
She pursed her lips and then laughed, burying her face in his shoulder. "We are terrible people."
He muffled his own chuckles against her hair and tightened his hold on her. "It was good though."
"It always is good." she pointed out. "That's how we always end up doing something even crazier…"
"True."He yawned. She almost chided him about not putting a hand in front of his mouth but she didn't have enough energy for it. He hooked her leg over his hip so they were entirely tangled and adjusted his hold on her waist. "Sleep now, sweetheart… You're gonna want to drag me out of bed too fucking early. I know you."
She didn't have a good objection to that and her eyelids were drooping so she stopped fighting sleep and breathed in the familiar smell of his skin. "Goodnight, darling."
"Night, princess." he mumbled back, forgetting to protest the pet name.
He did drop a kiss on her head though…
She fell asleep with a smile on her lips.