Chapter Text
There was a long list of things Haymitch hated about his time spent in the training center every year. The tributes, who he learned to avoid at all costs. The stupid outfits he was forced into. The noise of the Capitol whenever he wanted a bit of fresh air.
The strangely thin walls in the District 12 penthouse, however, remained at the top of his list. He could always hear Effie's heels clicking around her room, or her voice chattering on the phone with her sister, or her crying when the tributes inevitably died. Her loud noises never paired well with his hangovers.
Normally the sounds would at least stop in the night. Haymitch would have a few hours of peace, draining a bottle of whatever was nearest him in silence. He didn't need to think, or be told to be polite, or act even ruder just to spite the critique on his character. There was no need for frilly shirts and rigid collars. Just Haymitch, boxers, bottle, and the lights of the city coming in through the window.
Which was why Haymitch was so surprised when he heard giggling outside of his door. The sound was quiet, someone—Effie, obviously, as their tributes had been long dead in the arena—trying to sneak in without waking Haymitch. It was strange, the steps of her bare feet padding against the floor rather than the sound of her heels. Odder still was the second set of footsteps that accompanied her.
He heard her door open, close, and then was mortified by the wet noises of sloppy kisses.
Haymitch had known that Effie was popular among the men in the Capitol. He had seen how they had fawned over her at the countless parties she had dragged him along to. She was never without a glass in her hand or a partner to dance with. Having seen how she dressed at such events, with short fluffy skirts and high stockings, he couldn't blame the men for turning into animals around her. For years Haymitch had been throwing jabs in her direction, insults that had started as a way to force her to keep her distance, but had eventually become an easy habit. Even so, he still couldn't deny how attractive she was.
The thoughts of her stockings (he believed he had seen her leave in a deep purple pair) were not helping his body maintain normalcy when paired with the breathy moans now coming from the room next door. He took a large swig from his bottle, willing some solution to appear. There was an escape to the shower, which might drown out the noises. Or he could bother Chaff, but Effie would no doubt hear him leaving.
"We need to be qui—Fuck. Yes. Just like that."
His mind betrayed him immediately, picturing the compromising position Effie might be in. Her back pressed against the door, her lover's lips clinging to her neck while his hand fiddled under her skirt. Haymitch took another drink before sliding himself out of his boxers, closing his eyes to better imagine.
It was Effie's moans, high and breathy, that were coming out the strongest. The man must have been keeping his mouth busy. Haymitch pictured him leaving a trail of little red marks as he descended down Effie's chest. No memory lingered of what the top of Effie's outfit had looked like, so Haymitch didn't bother, picturing her already defrocked, breasts visible through a mesh bra that matched the stockings. Even though it was just a guess, the idea of Effie matching every layer of her undergarments seemed plausible. She was always so perfect, matching wig to eyeshadow to nails.
Nails. He gave a small shiver, picturing her fingers running down the man's back. Somewhere in the story he must have lost his shirt as well, replaced with tan skin, a soft physique, and a prominent vein on his forearm as he played with Effie over her underwear.
Haymitch heard the door give a wiggle, and imagined it to be a side effect of Effie's hips rocking against the man's hand, eager for him to finally give in and touch her properly. His own cock was becoming increasingly difficult to resist touching, hard and leaking with desire. It was the final line, the one he knew he shouldn't cross.
"Fuck. More."
It was the second word that made him finally unable to resist, his hand coming up to gently stroke over his dick. Her voice had been so simple, yet so demanding. It was a tone he knew all too well. She often had similarly short orders for him. Haymitch, bathe or Change, now. He knew that the next time she talked to him in such a way he would end up with a rather uncomfortable problem.
That was an issue for another day, however. Haymitch was more concerned with imagining Effie's lover giving in to her request, finally dipping his fingers beneath her underwear. He imagined how wet her pussy must have been. How long had they been teasing each other before finally making their way up to her room? Long enough for the fabric to be soaked through, he imagined. Haymitch rolled his thumb over the top of his cock, letting the precum slide over his skin, wishing he could feel her arousal instead.
There was a soft thuddy squeak that must have been somebody hitting the mattress. He wondered which he would prefer, Effie with her legs spread, writhing under a man, or her taking the high ground, bouncing on the man's ready cock. He liked the idea of her getting tossed around for once, finally giving up to control to someone else, but in the end he struggled to invent a man that would have the capabilities to convince Effie to let someone else lead.
"You're so fucking hot," came a low voice. Haymitch could understand why she had picked the man. Even the sound of him was enticing.
He could imagine Effie smirking, enjoying the heated compliment as she lowered herself onto the man's cock. The bed was thankfully loud, giving Haymitch a pace to match with his strokes. It was difficult to keep himself from finishing right away when he pictured the bounce of Effie's breasts, and the mystery man whose eyes were undoubtedly glued to them. Effie gave a breathy squeak, and Haymitch imagined the man's fingers having found their way back to her clit, increasing her pleasure as she rode him.
Haymitch was having trouble keeping his own noises from escaping, having to bite down on his free hand in the hopes that he wouldn't be heard. Luckily for him, Effie and her partner seemed to have given up any attempt to be silent. The bed was loud enough, and Effie's breathy gasps seemed to rise with each presumed thrust.
He could feel his orgasm getting closer with each salacious noise. Somehow he thought he could hear just how wet her cunt was, despite how abrasive the other sounds coming from her room seemed to be. Haymitch couldn't help but wonder who would give in first, succumbing to pleasure. Effie was certainly close, her gasps getting erratic, but her partner, though less frequent in his groans, seemed to be thrusting at an impressive pace. And Haymitch? Well he was just happy to have made it as long as he had without blowing his cover.
"Fuck, fuck," Effie said, her voice the tone of a whisper despite it being at a normal volume, "Need to come so bad." It was practically a whine. Haymitch wondered what the trick was to making her so desperate.
"Come for me," the man urged.
Before he could even listen to Effie's response, cum started to pour from his cock, splattering upward and onto his chest. The release surged through him, sending a warm tingling through his core, his heart beating fast as he listened to Effie ride out her own orgasm with repeating yes, yes, yes's. She seemed to go on forever, her cries eventually joined by the fluttery groan of her partner's climax.
Haymitch struggled to catch his breath, hoping they couldn't hear him fumble with bottle before taking a long drink. He tried to stop listening as their sheets ruffled, the couple turning cozy in their post coital bliss.
His drawers were all closed, making it difficult to find some way to wipe himself off without making his presence known. He was just about to settle on using his boxers and dealing with them in the morning, when he heard the man whisper.
"Shall I get something to clean you up, or would you prefer me to lick it off of you?"
Haymitch couldn't help but picture the man's finger slowly gliding over Effie's naked body, tracing in and out of a trail of his cum.
"If you start licking, I don't think I'll be able to resist forcing you into a second round."
When he heard the man start kissing down Effie's skin, Haymitch knew that he too would be unable to resist.