earlier this year, on March to be precise, a server I am part of held a collective art trade between multiple artists, like a secret santa type of thing. My recipent was @youtubepoopmusicvideo, so i tried to make something unique for it. I'm proud of it, but unfortunately i completely forgot to post it. and then i forgot for two more months. whoops.
Prompt: normally haymitch is the one getting teased by chaff and finnick so how about a fic where either chaff or finnick a woman problem and getting teases( and u can make up anything els )
Be warned that victorsprostitution is discussed in here =) [X]
Of Pools, Cheating And Experts
Haymitch’s eyes wandered around the big stone pillarsthat supported the high ceiling, not quite happy with all the areas left inshadows. The only source of light came from the pool itself and it made for aneerie atmosphere he wasn’t too fond of. It made him feel claustrophobic, evenwith the far wall being all glass and giving the vertiginous feeling that thepool was giving out on empty air.
He had hardly ever been there before. Maybeonce or twice after his victory, with another victor his age who had wanted toexplore every floor of the Games Compound… There was everything you needed inthe compound: a gym, a pool, a spa – or so he had been told, he was even lessfond of strangers touching him than he was of baldly lightened gigantic roomsin which anyone could hide and spy…
Eventually, once he was done with his visualinspection of the place and the smell of chlorine had started making his eyesitch, he buried his hands in his pockets and turned his attention to the poolwhere Finnick had been swimming back and forth for the last two minutes withouteven addressing his presence.
“You know I’ve got better things to do thanwatching you pretend to be a fish all night, yeah?” he called out, tired ofbeing ignored.
Finnick shot him a grin over his shoulder butdidn’t stop swimming. “Yes? What?”
“Question would be who actually.” he snorted.
When Finnick had called to ask him to join himat the pool, he and Effie had been in the middle of a very heated make-outsession that he was pretty sure would have ended up with them having their waywith each other right there on the couch. Clothes hadn’t flown yet but his handhad been far up under her dress and hers had been very busy opening the shirthe hadn’t even bothered to button all the way up again.
He knew how he looked: fingers had repeatedlyran in his hair, his shirt was halfway open, there was a suspicious red mark onhis neck and he had lost his jacket and his waistcoat somewhere. He trusted theboy could take a hint.
Finnick had said he needed to talk to him andthat it was important so he had come but he still hoped he could get back toEffie before she grew bored of waiting and went to bed. He was pretty surethere had been lacy lingerie under that horrible green dress.
“Who?” the boy teased.
Haymitch rolled his eyes. “I don’t kiss andtell.”
“Funny, that sounds like what Effie always says.”Finnick laughed, briefly ducking underwater to turn around as he reached thewindow.
Haymitch slowly walked closer to the baywindow, trying to find a spot that wouldn’t leave him with his back to a dooror an even bigger room. The window seemed like a safe enough place.
“I never listen to what she says. You shouldknow by now.” he deadpanned. “So… What’s the emergency?”
He glanced through the window. They were highbut not that high compared to thepenthouse. Outside, it was a typical Games night for the city. If he craned hisneck to the left, he could probably guess at the giant screen on the Squarethat was showing a live feed of the arena. He wondered where they were at now.Last time he had bothered to check, there had been three Careers left, the girlfrom Eight and a boy from Ten. The Seventy-Third Hunger Games were dragging onand he was pretty sure Crane would put an end to them soon one way or another.
“There aren’t any bugs here.” Finnick said,almost all the way across the huge pool already.
“Really?” he asked, eyebrows lifting up ininterest. He hadn’t known that but, then again, Finnick had made it hisspecialty to find out how many secrets as he could . “How come?”
“Something about reverberations and the water…”the boy dismissed. “There are some in the changing rooms but not in the poolroom itself. We can speak freely.”
“You’re scaring me.” Haymitch admitted with adeep sigh. He fished his flask from his back pocket and took a swing. “What didyou do?”
Because it came down to that, didn’t it?Finnick had been playing the game for long enough to know not to make mistakesbut if he had… Well… With Mags at home still recovering from a stroke she wouldprobably never totally get over and his fellow mentor too busy trying to snatchBrutus’ attention away from the man’s escort… He supposed he was the next bestthing when it came to playing mentor.
Finnick stopped swimming in the middle of thepool, his back to him, and then switched so he was floating on his back.Haymitch couldn’t shake the vision of a drown corpse out of his mind and tookanother swing of moonshine.
He would need to fill his flask soon. It wasalmost empty.
“It’s not like that.” the boy explainedeventually. “It doesn’t have to do with the Capitol.”
Everything had to do with the Capitol, healmost retorted but it seemed obvious the boy was upset already so…
“Okay.” he accepted and sat down, confident nowthat Peacekeepers wouldn’t burst in. “You know another good place without bugs?The roof.”
“There’s no pool on the roof.” Finnickcountered.
“There’s a garden.” he snorted, kicking off hisshoes and his socks because it looked like they would be there a while. Herolled up the legs of his pants to his knees and then let his feet dangle inthe water. It was warm, of course.
“You hate the garden.” the boy retorted,staring at the high ceiling.
The pool had an ancient Rome feel to it.Haymitch wondered if that was the aim.
“So you made me come down here so we can talkabout how I hate bright flowers?” he teased. He didn’t like the garden, true.It reminded him too much of his arena and he usually stuck to the unadornedpart of the roof where it was all grey cement. “Got to say… Might have gottenChaff involved. You know he’s got a green thumb.”
It was a well kept secret that Eleven’s victorenjoyed some gardening. Chaff had his own vegetable garden at home – half ofwhich he used to distil his own moonshine and it wasn’t that bad, less dry thanRipper’s and probably safer to drink too.
“I like the pool.” Finnick argued.
“You don’t say.” he mocked. “You like water?Never would have guessed.”
The boy tossed him a look that was a mix ofexasperation and amusement but his face soon turned serious and he went back tojust floating there.
“They made you do it too?” the boy asked.
Haymitch’s amusement died down quickly and hetook a hesitant sip of his flask. Eight years and it was the first time Finnickhad asked that question. He didn’t need him to clarify either. There was justthe right touch of righteous anger and helplessness in the victor’s voice thatthe tone was familiar.
“A few times.” he answered eventually.
He had been lucky. Given how popular andhandsome he had been in his youth, he had been very very lucky because when he had won the system hadn’t yet been whatit now was. The buying and selling had still been reserved to a selected fewwho usually had more important things to do than leer after victors. Now it wasa different story and Finnick had always been far too popular. None of thevictors who had come after him had been that popular and that included the Richtsonsiblings who had won two years in a row. Gloss and Cashmere were an item onthat market and it made Haymitch sick to the stomach every time he thoughtabout it. It was bad enough to be sold like a dog but to watch their sibling behumiliated like that…
All in all, compared to others, on that front,he considered himself lucky.
“Why?” Finnick insisted. “Your family…”
The stab of pain was immediate and heinstinctively kicked the water, making enough noise to cut the boy off. Four’svictor also stopped floating there to switch and start moving again. The boywas quick in the water, deadly.
“Why’s Jo still doing it?” he growled. “She’sgot no one left either, yeah?”
Johanna Mason had quickly become a thorn in theCapitol’s flank and he had warned her several times to cut it down. It hadstarted with Blight doing a poor job of preparing her for what the Capitolexpected of her and with her stabbing the very important, very influent man whohad rented her services for the night. In retaliation, her parents and herbrother had been caught in a deadly accident. It hadn’t done anything for hersnarky attitude, her resentment or her hatred for the Capitol.
“She’s got Blight and his family.” Finnickreplied defensively. “She’s got Syln and the other victors from Seven… They’vegot family too.”
And she was their responsibility so it fell onthem to make sure she played the game or to pay the price. Not a comfortableplace to be in, to be sure. Not that Jo would risk someone’s life like thatagain. At least, he didn’t think so.
“There you have it, then.” he said, waving hisflask to make his point. “There’s alwayssomething.”
“But you didn’t have a mentor and there are noother victors in Twelve.” the boy insisted.
“Yeah, well…” he shrugged. “After a few years Igrew tired of watching people starve ‘cause shipments were late or incomplete…Took me a while to catch up.”
He didn’t like thinking back to that part ofhis life. It had been a few years after he had won and he hadn’t grown used tobe lonely all year around yet. It was when he had started a slow but steadydescent into a bottle too. When Chaff had finally spelled out what he couldn’teven begin to imagine by himself, it had been the nail in the coffin of hissobriety.
Finnick seemed to accept that because hestopped swimming to start floating on his back again, arms spread wide at hisside. Haymitch stared at his own feet.
“Have you ever been with a man?” the boy asked.
“I don’t swing that way.” he answeredimmediately.
“Not what I asked.” Four’s victor pointed out.
“But that’s what you get.” he snarled,swallowing a long mouthful of moonshine. He blocked the memories that wanted torise up, focusing on what had happened the previous night instead. Effie bentover the dining table, her colorful skirt all over the mahogany, his handskneading her ass as he pounded into her warmth… He closed his eyes and focusedon that. The feel, the smell, the taste of her… “Look, boy, not that this walkdown memory lane isn’t just fun but…”
“It makes you crazy sometimes, right?” Finnickcut him off. “After an appointment with a client… It’s… It makes you crazy, right?”
Haymitch studied the eagle spread form of theboy as he floated around.
“Right.” he answered carefully. Thing was, asunbearable as Finnick’s position must have been, the kid couldn’t afford togive it up. Too many people depended on him. Too many lives. Mags’ first andforemost. Then, there was the girl from three years earlier. The tribute he hadgone and fell in love with despite everyone’s warnings… “How’s Annie?”
Because he had a feeling it was all coming downto that.
Maybe the boy had done something reckless likesay no to someone influent and maybe he was scared she would be punished forit.
Maybe…
“How long have you been with Effie?” Finnickcountered.
And Haymitch coughed so hard he almost chocked.“The fuck are you talking about?”
He couldn’t see the boy’s face properly but hewas certain Four’s victor rolled his eyes. “No bugs, Haymitch.”
There had been plenty of places without bugswhere people had teased him about his escort and it had never been enough forhim to forget basic caution.
“We’re not together.” he spat. “I’ve told you plenty of times before. We…”
“Okay.” Finnick cut him off harshly. “Fine. Lieto me.”
Haymitch glared at the kid who had no right tosound so offended by his denial. What a peacock.Arrogant and entitled and…
“We’re nottogether.” he repeated.
“Sure.” Four’s victor snorted. “Sorry Ibothered you. You can go now.”
Haymitch’s eyebrows shot up at the insultingdismissal. Who did the boy think he was treating him like an Avox? Maybe thekid spent too much time in the city and he had half a mind to tell him justthat but he caught the flash of pain of Finnick’s face and swallowed back hisannoyance.
“It’s not a thing.” he insisted quietly, hiseyes automatically roaming around to make certain nobody was hiding behind apillar. He trusted Finnick. Up to a point. He wasn’t sure he trusted even Chaff entirely. Blinded trust wasn’tclever in the city and it wasn’t clever between victors, best friends or not. TheGames were in the way, the Capitol was in the way, and ultimately everyone wasalways out for themselves. Lately, the only one he completely trusted was hisally and his ally was Effie because she was in his corner, always and withoutquestion. She had his back, he had hers and, for now, that was enough.
Terrifying, sure.
But enough.
“Okay.” Finnick sulked.
“Why the interest?” he insisted.
The boy shrugged and then pushed on his armsand legs to come closer to the window. “You ever cheated on her?”
“Hard to do since it’s not a thing.” he scowled, taking his feet out of the water. Histoes were wrinkled and he shifted to completely lean against the window. Hespread his legs in front of him to let them dry. “It’s not cheating, boy.” hesaid quietly after a few minutes. “Doubt your girl sees it like that.”
Finnick didn’t have a choice and Annie probablyknew that by now, assuming he had told her.
Effie went with sponsors from time to time. Hepretended he didn’t know, pretended he didn’t understand when she brought himback a sponsoring pledge that they would usually have no hope of securing. Heknew why she did it. She was desperate for a win, not just because of thepromoting bullshit she kept sproutingbut because watching their kids die was becoming too much. So she went andfound sponsors and he pretended he didn’t know how. He got angry about it, ofcourse, mainly because once you pushed that door, it was an open invitation todo it again. He also knew there were people she couldn’t say no to when theyexpressed an insistent interest, that it wouldn’t have been safe or clever.That made him angry too.
But neither of that was cheating.
And it wasn’t cheating either when a Gamemakermade it clear to him that he should entertaina wealthy lonely woman who used to have a crush on him twenty years earlierand fancied revisiting her youth.
Unfortunate was what it was.
Disgusting.
Unfair.
But cheating… The anger usually came out fromprotectiveness more than jealousy.
“I had a hard one the other day.” Finnickconfessed, so softly Haymitch could barely hear it over the lapping of thewater against the window with every of the boy’s movement.
“A man.” he deduced given the questions fromearlier.
It was almost a whole minute before Finnickconfirmed. “Yes.”
“He hurt you?” he growled.
Because it didn’t matter who the guy was,Haymitch would find him and wouldmake sure he knew better than hurting hiskid. That was only a fantasy, of course, he couldn’t do that without exposinghimself and the kid to more problems but… If it had been serious, they couldalert Crane. The Capitol frowned on their special clients damaging theirproperty.
They had had worse Head Gamemakers. Crane wasalmost decent compared to some.
“Not really.” Finnick sighed. “It’s just… Jowas in the same hotel. She had an appointment of her own so, after, I went to her room.”
He frowned. “And?”
“And it makes you crazy sometimes.” Four’s victor whispered. “Jo was furious. She’salways furious after that kind of things.”
“Relatable.” he snorted.
“We drank too much.” Finnick said. “We figuredsince the room was paid for, we could empty the mini-bar.”
And Haymitch winced, guessing where this wasgoing. “Booze and being upset usually don’t mix that well.”
The boy suddenly shifted, coming to a standingposition, facing the bay window. His feet must have touched the bottom becausethe water barely reached his shoulders. He placed both hands on the glass andrested his forehead on the cold panel. “I’m lying, we weren’t that drunk.”
“You slept together.” he sighed because he wastired of beating around the bush.
Finnick knocked his forehead against the windowtwice. “Three times.”
“In a single night?” Haymitch whistled. “Now,boy, you’re making me feel bad.”
Ah, being twenty again…
Two times in one night was a good run for himnowadays.
“Don’t mock, it’s not funny.” Finnick snapped.
He sighed again, took a sip of moonshine andthen handed out his flask, leaving his arm outstretched until Finnick caved andmoved to grab it. Four’s victor mirrored his position, resting his back againstthe window, a sulk on his face.
“She’s my best friend.” the boy lamented.
Haymitch wished he was more surprised but,truth be told, he had seen it coming. Hell, Chaffhad seen it coming. They had never discussed it but the acknowledgment hadalways been there in shared looks over the rims of their glasses, behind thekids’ back.
Nobody had believed in Johanna Mason during theSeventy-first Hunger Games. Nobody.And yet, on day three, Finnick had taken one look at the meek and terrifiedlooking little girl, had laughed and had claimed that she would be the victor.
And when it had turned out Johanna was neithermeek nor terrified, the boy had turned out to be right.
And the two of them had been thick as thievesever since.
They were young, attractive – and clearly attracted – and they were both goingthrough something terribly hard. It had been a matter of time.
“You love her?” Haymitch asked.
Finnick took a sip of moonshine, probablyfinishing what was left of it because he had to tip his head back all the way.“She’s my best friend.”
“Yeah.” He made a face. “You better made thatclear, then. And gently ‘cause thatgirl… She’s been looking at you with stars in her eyes from the start.”
“She knows about Annie.” Finnick argued. “It’snot… I love Annie. I love Jo too but…Annie…”
Annie was vulnerable and needed him to takecare of her and the boy probably needed the sense of purpose. Jo’svulnerability came in a different shape and she certainly didn’t need anyone totake care of her. Not that she would admit it to herself, at least.
“Boy.” he insisted. “Don’t play on both sides.They both deserve better than that.”
“No, of course not.” Finnick denied. “I’m not…I told Jo it was a mistake. She said she understood. She said we shouldn’t makea big deal out of it. That it was just sex.”
“Was it?” he challenged.
“It makes you crazy sometimes, Haymitch.” Four’s victor almost begged him tounderstand. “I didn’t plan it. It just…”
“No.” he scoffed. “That’s no excuse. It’s justlike the booze thing. You wanted to sleep with Jo so you slept with Jo.”
“It’s not that simple.” Finnick argued.
“Seems that simple to me.” he shrugged. “Youasked me here to tell you it was okay to cheat on your girl because you had hada bad night and one glass too many… Sorry but I wasn’t the right guy to call.Got many flaws but I don’t cheat.”
He had spent too many nights watching hismother wait for his father to get home, watching the disappointment on her facewhen she spotted the guilty glint in her husband’s eyes.
All in all, he figured he had only had twoimportant relationships in his life. His girlfriend who he had had honorableintentions for and who he had intended to eventually marry – and to never cheat on her because he wouldn’tbe that kind of bastard. And Effie, who was the only woman he had spent morethan two nights with in his life and to whom he had been clear with from thestart: whatever they had, it wasn’t exclusive, it wasn’t serious and it wasn’tgoing to be love.
The rules with Effie had been defined clearly. They were both free.
So, sure,in the last couple of years, the non-exclusive clause had become something of aproblem and they had shifted toward something more traditional. But it remainedunvoiced and unacknowledged and if either of them strayed…
Except he couldn’t see himself straying. He hadtried, at first, when he had realized just how long it had been since he hadbeen with another woman – since he had been forced to listen to her prattlingabout her latest boyfriend – it had scared him so badly to feel that way thathe had tried… But he hadn’t been able to go through with it. He didn’t want another woman. And it had felt too much like cheating…
He was many things but he wasn’t a cheater.
“We don’t sleep together… Annie and I.” Finnickconfessed. “Well, we sleep together but we don’t…”
“Yeah, got you.” he interrupted.
They didn’t have sex, was what he meant.
“She’s still recovering and… We said we wouldbe taking it slow.” the boy offered, clearing his throat.
It had been three years since Annie’s Games butfor some victors it was a longer road to semi-sanity than for others. Annie,from what he had heard, was pretty traumatized. Enough that she had remainedcatatonic for weeks and that the Gamemakers had been forced to keep her Tourshort and to the point. She had never come back to the Capitol after that. Itwas hard to hide that she had lost her mind, even from the audience.
“Still not an excuse.” Haymitch shrugged.
“I love her.” Finnick swore.
“Yeah? Which one?” he mocked.
Four’s victor rolled his eyes and tossed theflask back on Twelve’s victor’s legs. “Annie.”Haymitch toyed with it, waiting for the rest and, inevitably, it came. “ShouldI tell her or… Jo said we should do as if nothing happened and I think she’sright. It was a mistake.”
“That’s for youto answer, boy.” he sighed. “Just… Listen to me, don’t screw this up. Whateveryou choose to do… Make sure you don’t string the other along for nothing.”
He hauled himself up to his feet, pocketed hisflask and grabbed his shoes and socks before heading out of the pool onlypausing when he heard the sound of his name.
“Thank you.” Finnick said.
“Any time, boy.” he offered.
It was late enough that the only people he metalong the hallways were Peacekeepers who didn’t even blink at finding himwalking barefoot with his pants rolled up to his knees. They were too used tohis drunken stunts probably.
The elevator trip back to the penthouse feltendless but couldn’t have taken more than a few minutes. He spent the wholetime rubbing his face and wondering how and why he had found himself a mentorto victors who weren’t his own.
The penthouse was silent and dark, pretty muchuninviting, but he ignored the fleeting thought that he could slip back out toa bar or another. The living-room was empty and he didn’t bother turning on thelights, the colorful beams from the city nightlights spilling through the baywindows were enough for him to make his way to the liquor cart and fill hisflask with a very expensive whiskey. He downed a small glass while he was at itand then retreated toward the bedrooms where everything was equally silent anddark.
He paused in front of his escort’s room, hesitateda second and then pushed the door and strolled in like he owned the place. Hedropped on the foot of the bed, smirking when she sat up with a startled cryand awkwardly fumbled with the lamp on her bedside table. She didn’t seem toohappy to find him lying across her bed, missing shoes and socks, his pantsrolled up and his shirt still half open.
“Oh!You better not be drunk.” she huffed.
She was the only person he knew who could huffin a threatening fashion.
“Not drunk.” he promised, lifting both handsinnocently.
Her eyes narrowed as she studied him with raptattention. She must have been satisfied that he wasn’t lying because she huffedagain. “Did you have to wake me up?In case you are confused after twenty-three years of living here, your bedroomis across the hall.”
“But there are no gorgeous blonde in it.” hepointed out.
Her eyes narrowed even more but her lipstwitched. “Aren’t you being all charming… What do you want?” His smirk deepenedand he wriggled his eyebrows. She burst out laughing. “It is not happening tonight. You aroused meand abandoned me, forcing me to take matters into my own hands.”
“Sounds like I missed out on a good show.” hetaunted.
“You missed out on a great many things.” sheretorted. “I had slit panties on.”
“Kinky.” he commented, eyes sparkling inamusement.
“They were lace.” she scoffed.
“My favorite.” he remarked.
“Only because it is the only fabric you canrecognize and name.” she mocked, crossing her arms in front of her chest with adispleased pout. “Since going out with your friends was more important than mynew lingerie…”
“Finnick needed to talk.” he sighed, taking hiseyes off her to stare at the ceiling with a pout of his own. He liked Annie. He wasn’t sorry to know hewouldn’t have to see her face to face any time soon. He didn’t like lying likethat.
“Is something wrong?” she frowned, shifting soshe was kneeling next to him. “You look troubled.”
She placed a hand on the middle of his chest,the tip of her fingers was on his skin.
He debated about telling her or not. The boyhadn’t sworn him to secrecy but it was more or less implied that that sort ofconversations would remain between friends. Effie, he knew, could be trustedwith a secret.
But it wasn’t his to tell.
“I’m troubled ‘cause I missed out on the slitpanties.” he teased, reaching out to brush the side of her neck with his hand.
“Haymitch.” she said, seriously enough.
He shook his head and coiled his fingers aroundthe back of her nape.
“Nothing to worry about.” he promised. “Justgirl problems.”
“And he asked you for advices?” she scoffed, lifting both eyebrows. “He does know you are not an expert inrelationships, doesn’t he?”
“So funny, Princess…” he deadpanned, pullingher down for a kiss.
