Prompt: My birthday party is in full swing but it's too much for me right now, so I grab a bottle of wine and go up to the rooftop. That's where you find me eventually.
I saw this prompt line on a list that I reblogged to the hayffie penthouse if you want to check out that blog and I NEEDED to write it. There is coconuts galore so… You're warned XD (also I still can't write coconuts so you're doubly warned, this one is aaaall over the place)
Happy Forty!
Haymitch knew coming to the Capitol for the Seventy-third Hunger Games Tour was a mistake but that hadn't stopped him from asking Mayor Undersee to make sure there would be a train for him after District Two's victor's visit to Twelve. He wasn't sure why he had even come. The last time he had visited the city for the Tour was for the Seventieth Hunger Games and that had been mandatory, victors recalled from their respective District to try and hide the disaster that was Annie Cresta.
Nobody had told him to show up that year. It had been his decision.
Maybe he was lying when he mused he didn't know why he had made that choice though.
Because, right then, the penthouse was full to the brink with people – most of whom he considered friends, even – loud music was booming from the speakers, Avoxes walked around with trays full of short glasses full of liquor in all the colors of the rainbow and there was a huge cake shaped like a bottle of whiskey on top of a pile of books that was so realistic he had thought it was real at first. It didn't look like much now that people had cut into it and the candles he had reluctantly blown out had been discarded on the side table…
There were balloons all around too and when his eyes caught the 4 and 0 that were starting to deflate a little, he suddenly felt as tired as the pieces of plastic.
There were whistles and catcalls as Chaff spun Six's escort on the dancefloor – or at least the space that had been cleared of furniture to be used as a dancefloor. His best friend was having the time of his life and had already declared he wanted Effie Trinket to organize his next birthday party. High praise coming from him given his feelings for Twelve's escort. But Chaff was really deep in his cups.
Haymitch didn't feel drunk yet and maybe that was his mistake.
If he had known what Effie was scheming, he would have put a stop to it before it began. He had never had a surprise birthday party thrown for him before and the fact that she had managed it without rousing his suspicion once was… Well. He shouldn't be that surprised. She was cunning.
He snatched a shot from one of the passing trays but the liquor barely burned the back of his throat when he gulped it down. He wandered closer to the buffet, forcing himself to thank people who offered congratulations because he actually liked those people. Most were victors, there were a couple of the most tolerable escorts – no Viola Summercket thankfully – two Gamemakers had wandered in – uninvited if Effie's pout had to be believed but she hadn't kicked them out for obvious reasons – Caesar Flickerman was also in attendance with a couple of staff members Haymitch liked well enough because they never treated him like shit. The fact that Effie had known precisely who to invite to what was turning out to be the most select party of the year was probably concerning. Probably.
He snatched an already open bottle of wine from the table and discreetly sneaked out through the door that led up to the roof.
It was a relief to escape the overheated penthouse, the deafening music and the background conversations.
Forty years old, he thought as he leaned against the hip-high wall that encased the rooftop. That was why he had come to the city, because that birthday was looming and it had somehow felt more daunting that any other, because his head had been full of dark thoughts he was a little scared would take over if he turned forty alone in his dumpster of a house.
He hadn't meant to make a fuss over it either.
He had confusedly thought maybe he could just have his escort and a piece of cake – or maybe a piece of cake on his escort – but Effie had given no hint she even remembered his birthday was close. She wasn't staying at the penthouse for the Tour but he had spent the previous night at her apartment and when he had woken up that very morning, it had been all about schedules and gossip, no Happy Birthday, Haymitch. He had told himself it was better that way.
He really hadn't expected her to lure him out early in the evening for a meeting with potential sponsors who never showed, only to accompany back to the penthouse – arguing all the way and, in retrospect, it was a small miracle that he hadn't shoved her in the penthouse and kissed her right there – and grin like the cat who got the cream when the lights turned on and everyone shouted Surprise!
It was a great party, Chaff was right. Friends and close acquaintances only, the cake was his favorite flavor, all the dishes on the buffet were favorites… There were gifts piled up in one corner too… She had whispered in his ear that she wouldn't be mad if he got drunk, even.
It was the best party.
He wasn't sure why he still felt so gloomy.
The closed door to the roof wasn't enough to entirely block the loud music, he could hear echoes of it, but the volume suddenly became louder and he turned around, startled because he hadn't heard the door creak like usual.
Effie made sure the door was properly shut again before turning to him, hands on her hips and a pout on her lips.
She was so obviously tipsy, it was funny. Tipsy Effie was fun. It was drunk Effie and her mood swings you had to watch for.
"Why did you leave? Are not enjoying the party?"
He swallowed back the automatic barb that he hated everything Capitol, including parties, because she had gone to so much trouble, it felt… wrong to taunt her right then. "It's great. Thanks, sweetheart."
She beamed and sauntered closer to him, which gave him all leisure to admire the glittery short red dress he was pretty sure was part of the birthday gift. It had a V neckline that plunged almost as deep as her bellybutton and revealed the inner sides of her breasts. He was convinced it was tapped in place so there would be no nipple accident. It was fitted at the waist with a large broad red ribbon and the bottom part of her dress was slit with the two parts overlapping each other in the front so it was a tease every time she took a step. It was long-sleeved too and that worked really well with the V neckline. It glittered under the lights, making her shimmer and impossible to miss…
It really was a nice dress – and he didn't say that often.
The wig worked for him too because it was styled in a short impish bob he liked so much on her but, instead of the straight version she often wore, it was wavy and looked natural enough that he could almost believed it wasn't a wig at all. The dark color was in contrast with her blue eyes too and that did things to him.
Her hair was probably one of his favorite things about her, which was surprising because he had never been into blondes, but the dark hair was something he really liked and he never protested when she wore that kind of wigs.
The make-up was outrageous, there was never any avoiding that when they were in public, but it didn't look too garish. He sort of liked the intricate reddish spirals with gems stretching to her right temple.
"I am glad you like it." she declared, tossing her arms around his neck. "I thought you might be angry. Chaff was not convinced it was a good idea but I won him over by promising to invite Livia. He is into her, have you noticed?"
Had he noticed his best friend had been all over Six's escort all evening. Hell yeah, he had. Livia was nice, though, so he hoped Chaff would behave.
He put the bottle of wine down on the wall to place his hands on her waist.
"Thought you forgot the whole thing." he admitted.
She laughed and something clenched inside his chest because it was her real laugh. Genuine and unrestrained.
Maybe she was more tipsy than he had thought.
Then again, maybe he was drunker than he had thought too because he suddenly felt really intoxicated.
"You should have seen your face this morning…" She was still laughing. "So expectant."
He sulked. "Wasn't."
"Oh, yes, you were." She chuckled, leaning harder against him. He planted his feet on the ground and sat a little more fully on the wall so he wouldn't lose his balance and make them both plummet off the building. The force field would take care of them but he wasn't in any mood to accidentally jolly ride right then. "I am glad you chose to come celebrate it in the city, though. We can never do birthdays and holidays together."
Yeah, she was definitely tipsy if she was comfortable saying that kind of stuff.
He didn't really care though, not when she was in his arms and he was drunk enough he would be able to pretend he didn't remember any of it the next day. "I'm so old, sweetheart. Ain't sure when that happened."
"You are not old." she denied, stepping closer, forcing him to part his legs for her.
With him sitting and the heels, she was towering over him.
With anyone else, he would have hated that.
With her he didn't mind one bit. In parts because it meant his face was level with her breasts and that dress was perfect for him to nuzzle the bare skin there…
"I am turning thirty-five this summer." she said suddenly, sounding a little vulnerable. "That is old for a woman."
He snorted against her skin, poking at the plane between her breasts with his tongue. "Hardly."
"That is not how the Gamemakers will see it." she whispered.
He looked up at her, alarms ringing in his head despite the buzz of the liquor. He knew what she meant. He knew it had been coming for a few years. She had been with him in Twelve for over a decade. She didn't do as much modeling anymore and there were a lot of younger pretty things out there eager to take her spot as an escort. He also knew Crane liked her and that Haymitch being the difficult victor he was played in her favor since she was officially considered to be the only one who could control him. But that wouldn't last forever and they were dangerously approaching the time she would have to step down.
They stared at each other for a long moment.
Then her expression shifted into something cheerful again and she ran her fingers in his hair, pushing it back. "No use worrying over something we cannot control. Tonight is about you. I want you to be the happiest!"
She was right on that account, they couldn't control it. And he was feeling gloomy enough as it was.
"The happiest, yeah?" He smirked. "That means there's kinky lingerie in my future?"
She grinned and immediately bit down on her bottom lip to keep that under control. "It might or might not be in the pile of gifts in the living-room."
He chuckled. "Bold of you. What if I had opened the gifts in front of everyone?"
"I did not sign it. It would have been a mystery gift." she retorted, jutting her chin in the air proudly.
He lifted his eyebrows. "So there's no gift down there with your name on it? That's rude, sweetheart… What if people notice? What are they gonna say?"
He was teasing mostly. He didn't care if she had gotten him a gift or not. She had already thrown him a party and he figured there would be sex later that would more than make up for it.
"I never said there was no gift with my name on it." she pointed out.
"A party, sex and a gift?" he mocked, leaning in so he could kiss her breasts again. "Spoiling me, are you?"
"Well, forty is an important birthday, we should mark the occasion." she hummed, arching a little.
Just because she was pushing her breasts in his face, he kissed his way up, ignoring her slightly disappointed sigh. He nibbled on the side of her neck, careful not to pinch too hard because the party didn't show any sign of ending soon and a sudden hickey would be hard to explain.
He switched sides so he could kiss the soft skin under her other ear.
He was entertaining the thought of steering her to the wall next to the door and taking her there when she suddenly tugged on his hair to draw his head back. He responded to the kiss she planted on his lips eagerly if a little sloppily, groaning in her mouth when she forced her tongue past his lips. He groaned again in frustration when she stepped back.
It wasn't chilly outside because the Capitol was never cold even in the depths of winter – not the level of cold he was used to, at least – but he immediately missed the warmth of her body.
"I want you to have a birthday you will always remember." she stated and, before he could tell her he didn't care that much about his birthday but he did care about fucking her, she tugged on his hand.
He jumped off the wall and grabbed his bottle of wine, taking a swing and letting her pull him along. He expected her to guide him back downstairs to enjoy the rest of the party but she led him to the garden part of the roof instead.
They never went there.
It was pretty enough, he figured, but it wasn't really their scene. They usually stuck to the concrete area near the door that was reserved for hovercrafts.
Still, he followed because where wouldn't he have followed her? Scary how blindly he trusted her, needed her.
Another swing of wine and he was finally feeling the liquor getting to his head.
When they were deep enough in the small garden, she spun around and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him hard enough that he saw stars. One of her hands was in his hair again, the other grazed the side of his neck, sneaked into the unbuttoned collar of his shirt…
His own hands found her ass and kneaded, tugging her closer into his body.
She grinned against his mouth, probably because she could feel his interest rising with every passing second.
Still, when she started unbuckling his belt, he made a face and broke the kiss. "Anyone could come up."
"Is that not part of the thrill?" she challenged, her hand slipping inside his boxers, tearing a hiss of pleasure from his throat. "I will be quick."
And with that, she dropped to her knees without a moment of hesitation and, when he finally figured out what she had in mind, he pushed his pants and boxers down further so she had better access. He must have looked so eager that she chuckled, stroking him slowly and not with enough pressure to make it really good.
"Any particular requests before we start, darling?" she teased, poking at his head with her tongue.
It was enough to make him throb with need.
She didn't lick him or take him in her mouth though, she waited for instructions.
"Take your tits out of that fucking dress…" he mumbled.
She chuckled again but obeyed readily enough, pushing the fabric to the side so her breasts were jutting out… Her nipples were reddish and hard but he didn't know if it was from arousal, the chill in the air, or the rubbing against the fabric. Maybe a mixture of the three.
"Wanna come on them." he said next, taking another gulp of wine.
She made a small face. "Not right now. I would have trouble explaining that. Later, though. Yes."
He was a bit tempted to take charge, give out orders and come on all over her anyway. Maybe later. He did like the way her eyes brightened when he called her a good girl in the middle of sex, though he might have liked it even more when she wasn't following instructions and he had to punish her. Who was he kidding though? Lately he even liked it when she rode him like a pony and she was the one dolling out rewards and punishments.
Lately, he liked everything that had to do with her letting him have his fill of her.
"Anything else?" she hummed, eyeing his dick with a hungry expression on her face.
She licked her lips and it was his undoing.
"Look at me." he demanded. "The whole time. Look at me."
She did just that.
She licked his head again, stroking him lazily with one hand while she touched his balls with the other, working him up real slow… She started doing that thing with her tongue… Drawing letters on the throbbing vein… He thought she was writing happy birthday but he couldn't be sure because he was high on alcohol and on the feel of her. She went so deliciously slow.
Maybe she forgot they were taking a risk doing that when the penthouse was full of people or maybe she thought they were safe enough because the garden was out of sight of the door and they would have enough warning if someone came up there. Maybe she just enjoyed torturing him.
Knowing her, it was probably the latter.
Eventually, he just couldn't bear it anymore and placed his free hand at the back of her head – never grab the wig, never grab the hair unless allowed to, that was the rule, she didn't have many but that one he had learned the hard way, her teeth could be sharp – and urged her on. She resisted the push though, popped his head into her mouth and sucked on it, her tongue toying with it…
"Effie…" he groaned because teasing was all well and good but…
She slid it all in her mouth without any warning.
He hit the back of her throat and groaned again, unable to stop his hips from jutting forward.
The bottle of wine slipped from his fingers and crashed on the ground, bursting on impact.
"Shit…" he mumbled. "Shit, you're okay?"
She must have been because she just hummed around him, taking him even deeper, hollowing her cheek, her blue eyes staring straight at him as commanded. He forgot all about the wine and the possibility she had been hit by a shard of glass to cradle her head in his big hands…
She let his dick slid all the way out with an obscene sound…
He pushed her back down on it and she swallowed it like a pro.
The noises, they turned him on. And he couldn't stop himself anymore. He fucked her mouth hard, chasing the release that was so, so close… He didn't warn her or ask for permission before he came. She usually swallowed and when she didn't want to, she made it known anyway.
Still, he didn't usually hold her there while he came either. It wasn't even on purpose, he just…
When he released her, she coughed a little and wiped her mouth, drool and sperm hitting the ground between them.
"Shit." he said, a little dizzy from bliss. He dropped to his knees, barely remembering to avoid the shards of glass on the floor and quickly wiped what she hadn't yet gotten off on her chin. "You're good?"
"I hate how not sexy this part is." she complained.
"That's fucking sexy." he protested. And, because he was drunk and his upper brain had still not taken back control of his mouth, he added "You're always fucking sexy."
She seemed pleased with that and she grinned at him, leaning in to steal a short kiss.
It used to peeve him to be able to taste himself on her lips, now he sort of was into it.
When she drew back, she glanced down at her legs and groaned though. "You spilled wine on me. Did it get my dress?"
He took a look, more concerned with her being hurt than stained, to be honest, but was relieved not to see any blood.
Her thigh and knee was dripping with wine though.
He didn't really have a plan in mind when he pulled her away from the mess of glass to lie her down between two small potted trees he didn't have a name for. He put his mouth to her leg before she could protest, sucking the wine, licking the drops that were trailing down her calf, cleaning her up as best as he could and losing all interest in the wine when he found the path to her inner thigh…
"We should go back." she protested weakly. "I do not need… This was for you, not…"
"Shut up." he requested without the roughness that marked their control games.
His mouth found the hot lacy fabric of her panties.
She was soaked.
"Haymitch…" she breathed out when he used his tongue directly over the fabric, knowing the lace would add to the friction. "Haymitch…"
He pushed her dress to her waist and looked at her. Her breasts were still poking out of the red fabric. She looked so debauched.
He loved that.
"Spread your legs. Hold them for me." he demanded and, this time, there was the unmistakable hint of command in his tone.
She didn't question or protest or make him work for the right to take control like she usually might have done though. She immediately hooked her arms under her thighs, legs spread and up in the air, exposing herself to him without the smallest hesitation or reserve.
It would have been easier and more comfortable on a bed but he was past that sort of consideration.
He arranged her lacy panties so her lips were poking out on either side and tugged gently on the waistband. The fabric rubbed against her clit and she arched her back. He amused himself doing that for a while, until his mouth was parched and he could feel himself growing half-hard again.
He lost patience with the panties and tried to tear them off but they resisted.
She was already letting go of her legs so he could slip them down when he reached for the hunting knife he always kept on him. She went very still and took up the position again. She shivered when he carefully – very carefully – slipped the blade between the lace and her skin and make a quick job of dispatching it.
The knife aroused her, he could tell, but he still tossed it aside. He didn't like playing with it. The knife wasn't there for amusement but for protection. And he didn't trust himself with it, the same way he didn't trust himself to have her tied up and at his complete mercy – never mind when he was this drunk.
He had more rules than she did but she always insisted it was okay.
She didn't look too disappointed when he tossed the knife aside to lick between her legs anyway.
He didn't really bother with finesse. He sucked on her clit and then poked his tongue in and out of her, grabbing her under the ass and lifting her up toward him so it would be easier. It meant she was dangling a little with her shoulders on the ground and her ass in the air but she didn't complain.
He rubbed circles at her entrance with a finger, amused to see she couldn't control her wriggling hips even in that uncomfortable position.
"How many fingers do you want?" he asked, slowly blowing against her clit.
"All of them." she begged. "Please."
It took a second for his brain to decide all of them meant three because that was what they usually did and not the whole fist. That wouldn't fit.
He imagined it though, fisting her, and that made him throb.
He pumped her with his fingers, his mouth on her clit, his head full of dirty thoughts, his other arm trying to keep her steady…
Her moaning and mewling sounds quickly turned into frantic whimpers.
She came hard and loud.
He just hoped nobody had heard her over the upbeat music coming from downstairs.
He placed her ass back down, smirking at her. She looked thoroughly fucked lying there, a dazed look on her face, with her tits out and the dress bunched up at her waist, her legs still wide open, her folds visibly glistening even in the dark…
He almost wished he could have snapped a picture.
That would have kept him warm and happy all winter long.
The part of his brain that was still thinking straight told him they should fix their clothes and go back down because they had taken enough risks and they had disappeared far too long together; people were bound to add two and two, all the more so when they came back looking and smelling like sex.
The part of him that was hard, throbbing and ready for another round didn't really care though and it was that part that won.
He only had to tug on himself a few times to be ready and by the time he positioned himself between her thighs, she had come down from her afterglow enough that she wrapped her legs around him and urged him on.
He didn't last long and she only climaxed again because she was still stimulated from her previous orgasm but still, when he collapsed on top of her with a grunt, he was feeling very good about himself.
Her hand found his shoulder blade.
He could feel the shirt sticking to his skin with sweat.
He didn't want to think about what he looked like and how he was going to explain that.
"And you said you were old." she joked.
He snorted.
And then they were both chuckling like idiots.
He kissed her, a bit too sweet maybe, and then helped her up. He used her trashed panties to clean between her legs and then buried them deep in his pocket – he may or may not have a collection of her used panties and that may or may not make him a pervert. He buckled his belt while she fixed her dress.
"How do I look?" she asked with a small frown once she had made sure her tits wouldn't accidentally poke out and that her wig was straight on her head.
"Like you just got fucked." he taunted, using his thumb to try and erase the smudged lipstick. He did even more of a mess. "Might wanna fix the make-up before you reappear."
She wrinkled her nose a little and smoothed creases from his shirt. "You are so sweaty… You might want to get changed. If someone notices, tell them you spilled wine on yourself."
"Nobody's gonna buy I care enough about spilled wine I went to change my shirt." he pointed out with a shrug. "That's fine. They're all drunk anyway. We're good." He looked her up and down with a smirk. "Can't wait for the lingerie show…"
"You are insatiable." she teased, pecking his lips. "Go back first. I will follow in a few minutes."
He stole another kiss before he left, knowing it was a dangerous game to kiss outside of sex but unable to stop himself. He went down the stairs quickly but frowned when the door to the penthouse didn't give easily under his hand.
It took him a few seconds to figure it out and unlock it.
The little minx…
So she had come up there with the clear intent to seduce him and to let him think they were being risky.
He was smirking so hard when he walked back into the party he didn't even care how loud the music was. He went straight to the pile of gift and rummaged around until he found the one with her card – not the lingerie thing but the real official gift because he was curious now. It was a small rectangular box.
He turned the card over, amused to find her familiar handwriting.
'I expect you to be on schedule from now on. No excuse. Effie.'
Curious, he tore off the pink glossy paper – of course it was pink – and pulled out what was clearly a jewelry box.
He flicked the lid opened to find a silver pocket watch.
It was plain by Capitol standards, a few stylized spirals on the lid and the inside of the watch was just black numbers on a white background. He turned the watch over, not entirely surprised to find it engraved.
Always A Team.
E.
His lips were stretching into something that was more a smile than a smirk when an arm was slung over his shoulders.
"Who's giving you pretty jewelry?" Chaff asked, slurring the words together.
"No clue." he lied, carefully placing the watch in his pocket. "Enjoying yourself?"
Chaff clearly was and Haymitch let his friend drag him back into the throng of the party, accepting the glass Finnick handed him and toasting Seeder back when she called him an old man.
He didn't feel that broody about his age anymore…
Let me know your thoughts!