Prompt : This is a prompt but it's totally okay if you're not taking them! Well, I love your Chaff stories, but it bugs me that sometimes he gropes Effie and gets away with it. I'd love to see a story where Haymitch, instead of getting all jealous of Effie, actually took it out on Chaff, as he's the one being inappropriate, and lectures Chaff to keep his hand from Effie since she hasn't consented to it. I know they're friends but I feel like Haymitch wouldn't put up with that, and I'd love to see it!
Chaff
One of the things Effie hated the most about having to fetch Haymitch from the Peacekeepers station was she had to go down a series of stairs. Navigating stairs with seven inches heels and a designer dress was not the easiest thing.
The dress was a marvel. It was short and form-fitting, asymmetrical so her right arm was encased in a long sleeve but her left shoulder was bare, and it shimmered blue, green and pink depending on the light. The best part was the navy blue veil clasped on her right shoulder by a pink flower clip, it draped over her left breast and then flew behind her in a cloak-like trail that swell every time she moved. The dress had been a very big hit at the party she had been torn from it by an annoyed junior Gamemaker who had been resentful, on top of the whole scandal thing, to have to act as a courier.
It took her almost ten minutes to go down that flight of stairs and she was deeply grateful nobody was there to witness the desperate clutching of the railing – she was choosing to conveniently forgetting Peacekeepers were probably monitoring the corridor through cameras. The fact that she would have to climb them up again, probably with two drunk men in tow, was depressing and she wished, not for the first time, that Haymitch would be more appreciative of everything she did for him.
She took a moment to check her pink wig was straight and make sure the veil was in place and would lift behind her when she stormed in the Peacekeeper station proper.
She did enjoy a dramatic entrance.
And dramatic it was.
The two Peacekeepers on duty had been sitting at their respective desks, clearly bored out of their skulls, but one glimpse of her and they looked thunderstruck. She fought a pleased smile and directly turned toward the cell part of the room. These cells were basically drunk tanks designed for sponsors and important people who truly couldn't be let loose any longer. They were separated from the main part of the station by a force field and there were couches scattered around the big space.
She had fetched Haymitch from Peacekeeper stations with actual bars and benches in some parts of the city.
"It's not what it looks like." Haymitch said at once, bolting to his feet and walking closer to the force field.
She could see Chaff sprawled on one of the couches, his good arm behind his head, watching his best friend with a sulk on his face. A sulk that only deepened when his dark eyes fell on her.
She should have left him there to rot until his own escort noticed his absence and come to fetch him – although she wouldn't blame Viola for not wanting to. She should have but she never did because every time she threatened to Haymitch would make puppy eyes at her and a wasted Haymitch was a cuddly Haymitch and she could never say no to a cuddly Haymitch with pleading eyes.
"Well, it looks like you got yourself arrested. Again." she retorted, crossing her arms in front of her chest in a stern attitude. "Although I will grant you, you are not as drunk as I was expecting which I am not sure is a good thing given why you were arrested."
And she had been shocked to hear what the Gamemaker had to say.
Haymitch made a face that was halfway between angry and guilty. "Wasn't me."
One of the Peacekeepers coughed, to express his disagreement probably, but politely kept on ignoring them until he was talked to. Peacekeepers in the Center had long learned how to best deal with Twelve team in that sort of situation. A year didn't go by without Haymitch ending up in their cell at least once. And Effie's temper wasn't always up to par.
"Did you or did you not ditch me at the Games party to sneak to the private and very unsanctioned soirée Brutus was hosting in the mentor lounge?" she asked sweetly.
She had been aware of the party taking place in parallel of the one organized by the Gamemakers, everyone had been aware. There were rumors of gambling, hard liquor and victors getting loose but to get in, you had to know a password. It was all very risqué and exciting but she doubted Brutus would be allowed to repeat the experience. At least, not without the Gamemakers breathing down his neck.
Haymitch, she could tell, was well in his cup but not enough that his judgment was entirely impaired. On her personal barometer of his inebriety, she would have placed him between tipsy and drunk. Closer to tipsy.
"Maybe." he admitted with a wince.
"So it is very much what it looks it, isn't it?" she huffed, anger overtaking her. "You will be lucky if we manage to sweep this whole thing under the rug. Seneca is smoothing ruffled feathers as we speak and I have been ordered to handle you but, truly, I do not know if even I want to. Do you have any idea what Paela Thompson is saying?"
This time, Haymitch's face closed and he looked at Chaff over his shoulder. "Got a pretty good idea, yeah."
Chaff rolled his eyes again but sat up this time. "Oh, come on… Don't give me that. It's not 'cause you couldn't bother to pull that bartender chick…"
"I wasn't interested." Haymitch cut him off quickly, his grey eyes darting back to her.
She wondered if she was imagining the touch of panic in there at the thought that she would think he had been out trying to find a one-night-stand on top of it all.
Truth be told, she believed him when he said it wasn't him. She was more annoyed that he had sneaked out on her and got into troubles with Eleven's victor again – and possibly put Twelve in a hotspot with Gamemakers – than suspicious he could have played any part in what had happened. She knew Haymitch and she also knew there were certain things he would never do, particularly when he was still sober enough to know what he was doing.
Sexually harassing someone wasn't typical behavior for him.
Chaff now…
And Chaff, it was very obvious and explained why Haymitch had been pacing himself, was very drunk. Perhaps not wasted entirely but drunk enough to make her wary. A drunk Chaff was a handsy Chaff. An insistent Chaff.
From what the Gamemaker who had dragged her away from her group of friends had told her, there had been an incident involving a young wealthy sponsor who also happened to be one of the most popular actresses of the moment and two victors – one of which was hers. Viola must have been told too but, unsurprisingly, Eleven's escort still wasn't there and if experience served right she wouldn't show up.
"It was all in good fun." Chaff scowled.
"She told you to fuck off ten times!" Haymitch snapped back, raising his voice. "That ain't good fun, Chaff."
"Still, she didn't have to scream bloody murder!" Eleven's victor retorted. "What did I even do? Fucking Capitols…"
"Well, one of you tried to kiss her against her will and trapped her against a table, from what I heard." Effie hissed. "And I will make a gambit and say it was not Haymitch."
"Sure wasn't…" Chaff deadpanned with a fake sweet smile. "Wouldn't wet his dick in a pussy that's not yours, would he?"
There was an ominous silence.
Effie was very, very aware of the two Peacekeepers who were watching the scene unfold like she watched her soap operas on TV.
"Would you please release my victor?" she asked one of them, refusing to blush or betray any kind of sign that what Chaff had said was more than the ranting of a drunk man.
The Peacekeeper immediately handed her a clipboard that she signed out of habit.
"Do you want the other one?" the man asked awkwardly after clearing his throat.
"Do I?" The question was sarcastic but Haymitch sighed, torn between his obvious anger and his loyalty.
"Let's get him back to his floor." her victor requested. "Save Seeder a trip."
Seeder was more likely to run down to the rescue when she heard Chaff was in a cell than Viola was, true. And yet…
"I am sure his escort is on his way." she replied with the exact same degree of sweet irony Chaff had put in his voice.
"Come on, Effie…" Haymitch sighed, rubbing his forehead. "I'm tired."
He sounded genuinely exhausted and that was the only reason she waved her hand in agreement, her lips pursed and her eyes glaring daggers. She signed the other clipboard the Peacekeeper quickly handed her with clear relief to be rid of Eleven's victor and then watched as the other officer lowered the force field.
Haymitch's balance wasn't the best but he could walk, which confirmed her theory that he wasn't that drunk. Chaff, on the other hand, was stumbling every couple of steps.
He was upright and moving though and that was all she cared about.
She politely thanked the Peacekeepers and turned around, feeling gratified when the cloak-like trail swelled around her as she confidently strolled back out of the station, her head high, the two man on her heels.
She tried not to audibly groan at the sight of the stairs.
Haymitch was too used by now to her slowing down when faced with steps not to automatically adjust his pace to hers. Chaff, for his part, seemed to find the whole thing extremely funny and spent the whole time snickering at her even though she did her best to be graceful and confident.
She didn't even touch the railing once and refused Haymitch's offered elbow to lean on.
It still took a few minutes for her to reach the top and she knew the two men could have done it in seconds, she knew.
Did that justify Chaff getting impatient and helping her the last two steps by pushing her ass?
She whirled around – almost lost her balance and plummeted down the stairs in the process – and glared at him.
"Touch me again and I will cut your remaining hand." she warned.
Haymitch was fuming.
Chaff simply laughed like it was all a good joke.
She didn't miss the way her victor casually slowed down so he was walking between the two of them. She wasn't sure she appreciated the fact he felt the need to physically shield her because she could handle herself but she was also glad not to have to dread another sneak attack.
Things grew even more tense once they reached the first elevator, the one that would take them back to the main lobby.
Chaff was leaning against the wall – she suspected that it was because he couldn't stand by himself – and Haymitch remained firmly between them.
"You can relax, buddy…" Chaff snorted. "I promise I won't grope her again… Ain't my fault if she's got an ass to…"
"Shut up." Haymitch spat.
Effie clenched her jaw. She didn't quite mind being assessed like a piece of meat. She was too used to that to care. But the way Chaff said it, it made her feel dirty. And not the good kind of dirty either.
"Why are you so angry at me?" Eleven's victor insisted, not having the good sense to desist.
A fuming Haymitch was a very dangerous Haymitch and Effie was half-scared punches would be thrown before they reached Eleven's floor.
"I'm angry at you cause you're behaving like an asshole." Haymitch snarled.
"Stop." Effie ordered because the elevator chimed and the doors started opening. "Chin up, smiles on. I do not want to hear a single word until we are alone again."
They stepped into the mostly deserted lobby. A few sponsors were lingering next to the big interior fountain in the middle of the huge space… Effie headed straight for the other elevators, the ones that would take them back to their respective apartments.
Haymitch followed closely, his hands in his pockets.
Chaff was slower.
Effie pushed the call button but the doors didn't immediately open and it annoyed her because it meant they would have to wait and waiting meant…
"I'm an asshole cause I patted her ass?" Chaff scowled.
"Be quiet." Effie hissed, glancing at the sponsors who were fortunately too busy having fun between themselves to pay them much attention.
"You think she likes you patting her ass?" Haymitch shot back. "You think that woman liked you trying to kiss her like that?"
Eleven's victor's face suddenly turned furious too. "Don't make it sound like I was gonna rape her or some shit. Women like that always play hard to get. You're telling me your slut escort doesn't make you work for it?"
The slur barely registered, barely stung, because before she could even process his words, Haymitch had Chaff up against the wall by the collar of his shirt.
"What did you say?" her victor snarled.
That got the attention of the sponsors.
"Haymitch, put him down. Now." she demanded, tapping the call buttons a few hundred times more.
Unsurprisingly, Haymitch didn't put him down.
Unsurprisingly, Chaff tried to swing his fist.
Haymitch was going for a head butt. She was certain of it.
She abandoned the elevator button and ducked under Haymitch's arm to squeeze between them, very much sandwiching herself between the two victors. Chaff was behind her and she didn't like that. She didn't like the fact his hand and his stump immediately landed on her waist either. She liked the fact that the sponsors were giggling and letting out incredulous screeches even less. Before the hour was through there would be rumors of her having threesomes with victors from outer Districts everywhere in the city.
Haymitch might have stepped back and let it go if Chaff hadn't done the stupid thing and wriggled his eyebrows.
"Now I get it…" Eleven's victor joked nastily. "She ain't that bad from behind…"
"Please don't." she said quickly, fencing off her victor with both hands on his chest. "Please, Haymitch, drop him."
Haymitch's stormy eyes traveled from hers to his best friend a few times and, eventually, with obvious difficulties, he dropped the other man and stepped back, tugging her with him while he was at it. She wasn't sorry to get away from him.
The elevator finally opened his doors and she lost no time pushing Haymitch inside. She was half-hoping Chaff would remain in the lobby but instead of doing the wise thing he followed them, looking even angrier now.
"You're a fucking idiot." Eleven's victor accused. "You're getting your head turned by a pretty ass and…"
"I fucking swear if you don't stop talking about her…" Haymitch growled. "It ain't got anything to do with her. You're being an ass. When a girl says no, it's no, for fuck's sake! How do you even need me to tell you that?"
It took Chaff a few seconds to follow the switch in topic. "She wasn't really saying no."
"Yeah." Haymitch snapped. "Yeah, she was. She fucking told you ten times she wasn't interested but you couldn't let it go, right? You couldn't…"
"She thought my missing hand was disgusting." Eleven's victor scowled. "You heard her."
"Yeah, she was a bitch." He shrugged. "Still doesn't mean you get to a pass to force yourself on her like that. You can't just fuck with any woman who catches your eyes…"
"They're Capitols." Chaff sneered. "That's what they're for."
Effie was staring at the floors numbers, silently begging the elevator to go faster.
"You're wasted." Haymitch accused. "If you weren't so wasted you'd see…"
"I'd see that escort of yours has your dick on a leash." Chaff interrupted, tossing her a dark look. "You must be a sweet, sweet ride…"
She grabbed Haymitch's wrist before he could attack him again. The tension in the small space was unbearable and the last thing she wanted was another fist fight.
"Sadly for you, you will never find out." she retorted. "Unless the next step on your despicable behavior ladder is to actually force a woman to sleep with you."
"Don't need to force anyone." Chaff grumbled, suddenly deflating. He blinked a few times and then rubbed his face with his stump. Perhaps he was coming down from the alcohol rush.
"Do you even see the difference anymore between flirting and harassing?" Effie sneered. Then she shook her head. "I advise you to sleep the liquor off and drink plenty of fluids. I have a feeling you will have a difficult interview with Seneca tomorrow morning. I only hope for your family's sake that there won't be any other consequences than a dressing-down."
"It was all in good fun." he muttered again.
"It is sad you truly believe that." she snapped. "I do not find it fun when you touch me without my permission."
"Haymitch touches you all the fucking time…" Chaff scoffed.
"He is my friend and I doubt very much you ever saw him randomly grope me in public just for the fun of it." she deadpanned.
There had been public groping, truth be told, but it was more or less always hidden and discreet. That, or he was very drunk and she usually got very angry. Either way, Haymitch's hands weren't unwelcomed.
And as if on cue, he placed one at the small of her back, high enough not to be mistaken for something else.
"Well, I'm sorry then." Chaff grumbled. "Ain't my fault you've got a pole in your ass and can't take a joke but I'm sorry anyway."
That was the worst apology she had ever heard but it was more than she had been expecting.
Fortunately, the elevator opened on Eleven's floor, saving her from having to answer.
Unfortunately, Viola was standing right in front of the doors, looking ready to murder someone.
"I was on my way to get him." Eleven's escort told Effie, her voice sharp and furious. "Seneca is livid." Viola pursed her lips, gave Haymitch a dismissive glance and looked back at her. "It appears your victor is off the hook. Paela insists he was chivalrous and tried to get this piece of trash to leave."
"Hey." Haymitch snapped defensively. "Don't talk about him like that."
Both women ignored him for their own reasons.
"Your victor got mixed up when Peacekeepers tried to arrest mine." Viola continued. "So he is cleared and free to go as he pleased. You, on the other hand, are not to leave our floor until you had a little chat with the Head Gamemaker. I have to have a chat too, if anyone's concerned. Because, apparently, I do not control you enough. Can you guess what is about to fall on you Chaff?"
Hell was about to fall on him and Effie almost felt bad when her archenemy dragged Eleven's victor out of the elevator.
Still, she was a little relieved to get on the way to the penthouse.
With a sigh, she leaned against Haymitch's side. He automatically wrapped his arm around her shoulders, dragging her close.
"You shouldn't…" he started and then fell silent for a moment. "He's wasted. He didn't mean any of it."
Privately, she thought he meant every word but she also knew better than try to open his eyes on his best friend's flaws.
She remained silent.
"I am going to bed." she announced once they had stepped out of the elevator. The penthouse was dark and silent and Haymitch looked too broody. She leaned closer and pecked his lips once, twice… "Are you joining me?"
His thumb rubbed circles on her waist and he leaned it to steal another kiss but he didn't deepen it. "Ain't really in the mood."
"Alright." she readily agreed, a little relieved. She didn't like seeing him upset and she would have enjoyed making him feel better but she wasn't quite in the right mood for sex either. "Good night then."
"Night, sweetheart." he answered, heading toward the living-room.
She resisted the urge to tell him not to drink too much. He would have only gotten angry.
She wasn't sure how long she had been in bed for when her bedroom door creaked open. It was very late by then and she must have at least been dozing off because she startled awake at the noise and it took several frantic beats of her heart to realize it was only Haymitch.
She rolled on her back just as he was sneaking into her bed.
He had lost his shoes, his jacket, his waistcoat and his pants at some point. He slipped under the covers, still wearing socks, boxers and shirt, and immediately wrapped an arm around her, tugging her closer to him a little too forcefully.
This time, he was drunk.
Terribly drunk if he was already at the cuddling stage.
"Haymitch…" she sighed, not quite angry but not pleased either.
He smelt like whiskey and sweat.
The smell would linger on her sheets for days.
He wriggled down the bed until he could use her stomach as a pillow, stubbornly clinging to her.
"What is wrong?" she asked, running her fingers through his too long hair. It was tangled and needed a trim.
"Didn't use to be like this with him…" he slurred. "It's getting bad… Don't know what to do."
Chaff, then.
Fighting with his best friend always left him upset and, lately, they had been fighting more often than not.
"It is alright." she hummed. "You will make up tomorrow. You always do."
"Yeah, but…" He waved a dismissive hand before putting his arm back around her and squeezing tight enough that it was a little uncomfortable. "He's mean to you."
She stared at the ceiling and swallowed back a sigh. "Chaff does not like me, you know that."
"But I like you." he grumbled. "And I hate when he… I hate the stuff he says about you…" She opened her mouth to tell him she didn't care – a lie, perhaps, but a necessary one, he didn't have enough close friends for her to deprive him of one – but he went on, his slurring becoming so bad she had troubles understanding him. "Didn't used to be like that…" He shook his head. "When he drinks… Drinks make him mean now. And the stuff with women… He's a good guy, sweetheart, I promise… I don't know why he's like that now. He drinks too much and he makes an ass of himself and sometimes it goes too far and I hate seeing him like that. I hate it."
He pressed his face against her stomach and she kept petting his hair, a little at a loss as how to answer that.
She wasn't an expert in Chaff.
In her decade long acquaintance with Chaff, she had lost count of the number of time he had stolen a kiss or groped her without her consent. He had been sober a lot of those times and he had always laughed afterward as if it was all a good joke and she was stuck-up for not finding it funny.
This being said, she could admit she had noticed that this tendency of him to be a little too insistent had been getting worse in the last couple of years.
The thing was, Chaff had always been a player and he had always had a lot of success with women despite the fact he came from Eleven and his missing hand. He had always played the victor card and the rumors that he was a good time had done the rest. However, Chaff was in his forties now and he wasn't quite as charming as he used to be and the victor card wasn't working as well either. Maybe he was bitter about it. Maybe it was some sort of midlife crisis turning him into a jerk…
"It will get better." she promised cheerfully.
"I…" His voice was hesitant and muffled by the sheets. She had to tug a little on his hair to get him to take his face away from her stomach, a little worried he would end up suffocating. "When I get wasted I don't… I don't wanna be like that… I don't wanna… Don't let me force you into anything, sweetheart, don't let me… Don't care if you have to hit me or kill me or…"
"Haymitch, you would never." she cut him off gently. It wasn't the first time they had that conversation. He was scared of what his drunk self could do sometimes. It was never enough to convince him to put the bottle down for good but… "You have never done anything untoward while drunk and you never will. You understand that when someone says no, it is no."
Chaff never did.
She thought it but didn't say it.
His best friend was on a pedestal and she didn't want to try and attempt to bring the whole thing down because he would end up resenting her for it.
"Promise." he demanded.
She let her hand fall to his nape. "I promise."
"'Kay." he mumbled, nuzzling her stomach a little. "M sleepy now."
"Do you want to sleep here with me or do you want to go back to your room?" she asked.
"No, no, no…" He shook his head, sitting up. The movement was too quick and he swayed left and right until she grabbed his arm and steady him. "Don't wanna hurt you… Don't wanna…"
Helping him back to his room and into his bed was a long process that was made even more arduous when he grabbed her wrist as she was about to leave.
"You stay?" he asked, his grey eyes clouded but searching for hers in the dark. "Till I'm asleep?"
She sighed but lied down on top of the covers next to him, trying not to read too much into it when he curled around her like an octopus. It would be simpler if he wasn't so stubborn and simply agreed to share a bed from time to time…
"Sweetheart?" he whispered after a few minutes.
The word was so slurred it was only habit that let her understand it. "Yes?"
"Liked the dress." he muttered against the sneak of her neck. "Very bossy bitchy."
Next thing she knew he was snoring.
She left his room with a pleased grin on her lips.