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Haymitch couldn't drag his eyes away from the beautiful vision before him, all long blonde hair and lovely blue eyes and scarred pale skin that looked even paler against his own. The luck of having Effie Trinket felt like it shouldn't have been his, but she'd showed up in District Twelve one day and simply never went back.
“So beautiful,” he murmured, kissing her softly as he began thrusting inside. For as much as Haymitch was ready to chase his own pleasure, he needed to see her come for him first, and he couldn't look away as she moaned out his name and clenched down.
Effie was perfect, she always had been. And now that she actually let him in her bed, let Haymitch touch and kiss and be with her in every way, he was intent not to squander the opportunity she'd presented him with. He wanted her outside of his bed too. He wanted to take Effie out, for dinner or to the Hob, just to be fortunate enough to spend a little more time with her. If he never had sex again, he'd die a happy man to have had Effie Trinket in his life, and he truly would never even consider that she might someday love him back. He wasn't fool enough to break his own heart like that.
Because he did love her, more than he actually knew how to express. He loved how gorgeous she was, sure. He wasn't blind, and Effie had always been a beautiful woman. But he loved how she felt in his arms when they laid together and read late into the night, the sound of her laugh when she managed to convince him to dance with her through the kitchen they now shared. He loved that she was alive, that she'd stayed so strong through pain he couldn't begin to imagine, and he loved that she let him love her as best as he was able, even if she didn't know that was what it was.
She was everything to him, really. She was the sun that gave him reason to wake, the moon that lulled him to sleep night after night. In her eyes was the sky above, an endless blue expanse he could become lost in, and in her hair, fields upon fields of perfect gold. Effie's body was like the sea, sweeping him up and away as he got lost in her pull, and he wanted nothing more than to drown in her for the rest of their lives together.
“I love you,” he whispered against her neck, so softly that he hoped she couldn't hear. He hadn't said it yet, and Haymitch didn't want to go scaring her off, but she overwhelmed him sometimes, and the words had to come out.
Her nails dug into his back as her moans echoed louder and louder in their room, and he pulled back just enough to watch the love of his life coming undone in his arms.
—
Effie tried her best not to objectify him, she knew that wouldn't be fair, but Haymitch just made it just so goddamn difficult sometimes.
It was especially difficult in moments like these, with his large, strong hands on her body, with Haymitch taking her apart so slowly as she tried not to beg for more. She should've been doing this years ago, really, back when they were on that train together. How she'd ignored his draw for so long was something she may never know.
And really, it was Haymitch's own fault, many of her dirtier thoughts. His fault, crashing into her life so many years ago and refusing to leave. Where there had once been a sweet young boy, terrified and preparing to go into the Hunger Games, he'd grown into a terribly sexy man, and she wondered how she'd missed that for all those years they'd spent side by side.
His dark hair fell over his forehead, messy curls that she loved to run her fingers through and tug at just so in order to make him moan. Those gray eyes locked on hers and Effie let herself get trapped in his gaze, in the dark thunderstorms that laid behind that she still just couldn't quite read. Of course, Haymitch had to have absolutely gorgeous arms, strong and perfectly fitted to her waist as he fucked her harder with every thrust, and she was slowly losing her control.
He was sexy even outside the bedroom and absolutely none of it was fair. When he smiled, he had the most adorable dimples, and when Haymitch aimed that smile at her, she couldn't help the way it made her heart skip a beat. He liked to work with his hands, and that shouldn't have made her as wet as it did, but there was something about Haymitch walking in covered in sweat and grass and dirt that made Effie need him then and there. And of course he would be good with kids too; seeing the way they flocked to him, even if he tried to complain about it later, it was clear that Haymitch was a natural, and she tried not to think about how horny that tended to get her too.
When he pressed his face against her neck, she saw her chance and decided to take it. “I love you,” she whispered into the air, hoping against hope that he wouldn't hear. She'd hate to make him scared, make him run for the hills. If Haymitch wanted casual sex, she was more than able to do just that, and her stupid heart could get itself under control.
Effie watched as he pulled back just enough to meet her eyes again, and she loved the way his pretty mouth dropped open on a loud cry of her name. And as they came down together, with her wrapped in his arms, she felt the smallest flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, they could be something that really worked.