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I feel the night explode when we're together.
Emotion overload in the heat of pleasure.
Take me, I'm yours, into your arms.
Effie looks ecstatic as a new song comes over the loud speakers at the party. She jumps up and down to the beat, dancing in a circle with some other partygoers, singing along to the lyrics. Haymitch watches as she moves toward him, swishing her hips, pointing at him, trying to get him on the dance floor. He shakes his head and laughs, eyeing her body up and down, taking in every inch of her. The dress she put on for the Capitol party that night isn't as big as her usual dresses. It looks almost normal. Thin, silky fabric that drapes itself over her body, catching in all the right places. The closer she gets to him the faster his breaths come. He's never seen her so carefree. She's beautiful.
Effie dances up right next to him and grabs the loose tie hanging from his neck, urging him to stand.
Haymitch chuckles but doesn’t move, which only serves to make Effie grip his tie tighter and pull his upper body closer towards her. He doesn't think he would ever be drunk enough to dance to Capitol music.
She quickly realizes he isn't going to get up and join her so she pushes his torso back into the chair. There's hunger in her eyes – a desire so deep from within her that Haymitch had never seen it before. Effie smirks at him before putting both of her palms against his chest, dragging them down to his stomach, to the tops of his thighs, and then sliding her fingertips all the way down to his knees.
Is this really love or just a game?
“Oh, fuck.” Haymitch feels like he's glued in place. His eyes are unblinking as he watches her, trying to anticipate her next move.
She's enjoying it – his attention, his rapture. He can see it in her eyes. Effie looks at him as if he were prey. She plants her legs on either side of his thighs and sits in his lap, immediately grabbing onto the back of his head, tangling her fingers into his hair for support.
Haymitch feels himself growing hard, nearly achingly. He tries to suppress his desire but she's moving against him in the chair, rolling her hips down onto him. His hands find their way to her ass, seemingly of their own volition, and pushes her against his lap harder.
I can feel my body rock-
He wants to pick her up and bring her to the bathroom. All he can think about is fucking her against the wall in one of the stalls.
Fuck. Haymitch knows this shouldn't be happening right now. He knows everyone must be watching. He tries to get a grip on his mind and wipe away the thoughts of him fucking her right there in that chair. Effie is clearly too drunk to realize what she's actually doing, and he knows if he lets it go on any longer he'd never hear the end of it. Haymitch drops his hands from her body and speaks into her ear.
- every time you call my name.
“Effie. People are looking.”
“Let them!” She yelled over the music.
She's making this way too hard to resist. He breathes in deeply, trying to overcome the overwhelming urge to kiss her, to devour her.
“Go back out on the floor.” He lightly pushes his hands against her shoulders before she can retort. “I wanna see your whole body move for me.”
She takes it as a challenge – he knew she would. Effie gets up from his lap and Haymitch is thankful that the lighting is so dim, otherwise everyone would know how much of a raging hard-on he's sporting. She grabs his hand, trying once more to get him on the dance floor. She's stubborn, but not as much as him.
“Nuh uh. Go on,” he nudges his head in the direction of the dance floor. “Show me what you got, princess.”
There's a devilish glint in her eyes as she smirks and turns away from him. She determined now. Haymitch lightly swats at her ass as she leaves and she turns around with a smile on her face. A real smile. She's so beautiful. She's so happy...
“Fuckin'-A, Abernathy. You didn't tell me you two were screwing.” Chaff leans over to him from across the table.
“We're not.” Haymitch lies.
“You were practically inside her just now!”
“Let it go, Chaff. You're not getting anything out of me.”
He scoffs with amusement. “Well, I'm sure Trinket's gotten a lot out of you!”
“Fuck off.” Haymitch replies, picking up his glass of whiskey to hide the grin that was threatening to break out on his face.
His eyes stay stuck on Effie as she dances for him across the room. Haymitch figures he'll give it a half hour or so until he drags her from the party and immediately fucks her against the door of their suite as soon as it shuts.
He awakes to a pillow repeatedly hitting his face.
“Ah!” He groans as he brings his arms up to his head.
“Why didn't you stop it?” Effie yells.
“I did!”
“Not soon enough!” She hits him again.
Haymitch snatches the pillow from her and throws it to the ground. “Hey, it would've been a lot worse if I hadn't had the willpower to stop it when I did. But, thankfully, I have a much higher alcohol tolerance than you.”
“You could have stopped it before it started!”
“Well, I sure as hell wasn't near sober enough to do that! You really have no idea how close I was to lifting up your dress and fucking you right on that chair.“
Effie scoffs. “Must you be so vulgar? Especially in a situation like this...”
“Just relax.” Haymitch reaches out to touch her arm but she moves it away before he can. He sighs and rubs his fingers along the bridge of his nose, already feeling a headache coming on. “It was after the party had dwindled down to basically nothing. Mostly just victors and escorts. You should be glad all the press were long gone.”
“My fellow escorts being there is what's upsetting me, Haymitch! They're going to tell the entire Capitol that I'm sleeping with you!”
If he didn't know Effie so well, he'd be offended. “Princess. You are sleeping with me.”
“That's not the point!”
“Look, Eff, I know you're a control freak, but we all have to let loose every once in a while. Everyone does stupid shit at these parties. Hell, the other escorts are always falling all over the place, fondling the geriatric sponsors, year after year. You just danced.”
“In a very suggestive manner... on top of you.”
“It was only for a minute.”
Effie still doesn't look any less upset. He sighs.
“Hangover anxiety is a bitch, isn't it? That's why I just keep drinking as soon as I wake up.”
She rolls her eyes. “Great advice, Haymitch. Thank you.”
“Well, I can't say anything else to make you feel better about it, so that's your last option.”
She seems to accept that she can't change the past and sighs, putting her head in her hands. “Good heavens, what was I thinking?”
“Clearly you were thinking about how hot I looked in that new suit you made me.”
She picks up the other pillow on the bed and whacks him with it. He chuckles.
“This is not a laughing matter, Haymitch.”
He sighs again. He knows how seriously she crafts her image year after year. It's the only way she can try to control what people think of her, and he knows the Capitol is full of judgmental freaks.
“No matter how much the Capitol loves to paint me as a disgusting drunk, I still always make the Top 100 Sexiest Men in Panem list every year. So what does that tell you? They all secretly want to fuck me, too.”
Effie rolls her eyes. “I'd hardly consider 87th place something to be proud of.”
“You always know how to keep me humble.” He grins, and a silence falls between them. She clearly still doesn't feel much better about everything. Humor is his only chance at levity. “I'm guessing now isn't a good time to say how sexy it was. But if you ever feel like giving me a private showing, please, by all means, do.”
Effie smiles slightly. Haymitch puts his hand under her chin and lifts her head, locking their eyes together. She's still so beautiful, even with her sad eyes.
“Effie, you were radiant last night.” His voice softens. “I've never seen you as happy as you were when you were dancing. Seeing you like that... It took my breath away.”
She drops her gaze from his. He doesn't take offense. They've never been good at actually dealing with their feelings, together or separately, let alone speaking them aloud.
“Sometimes, I wonder how different you must be during the rest year, when I don't see you. After the Games season is over.” He continues in a careful whisper. “I imagine you're a lot less on edge. I imagine you smile in a way that's actually real, like the way you smiled last night while you danced... Are you happier during the rest of the year?”
Effie nods and looks back to him.
“Believe it or not, I drink a little less the rest of the year... This month, it's just- it's hard for me to handle.”
“I know.” She whispers.
“Don't beat yourself up for drowning the hurt for once... for taking the opportunity to feel happy in the face of all this shit.”
“Okay.”
“Why don't you go take a shower and I'll call up something for breakfast.”
Effie nods and gets out of bed. Haymitch looks up at her as she walks over to him and puts a hand on his cheek.
“Thank you, Haymitch.” She says lightly and bends down, placing a soft kiss on his lips.
He doesn't want the moment to end. He wants her lips on his for the rest of the day, to be in their own little bubble away from everything outside, but she eventually pulls away from him. So he brings his body up closer to keep their lips together as long as he can until she's standing straight up and their kiss is broken.
Effie smiles at him then leaves. In the loneliness of the bedroom, Haymitch thinks back to the lyrics of the song she had liked so much the night before.
Love on the run, breaking us down.
Though we keep holding on, I don't want to lose you.
No, I can't let you go.