His stomach lurched. Really, the stuff didn't seem too strong, only tasting vaguely of rubbing alcohol. It looked fine. Like water, clear and cold. Besides, if Haymitch could handle this stuff every single day, he should be able to at least handle a couple, right?

Gale hiccuped, a grin stretching wide across his face, thoughts jumbled. He was not losing this bet.

This will be my last drink, he repeated like a mantra in his mind. It was the only way to make his body keep down the alcohol. Gale had never been much of a drinker, preferring to wallow in self-pity without the aid of alcohol. Perhaps he should have waited before his body was more acquainted with the liquid, but he had a bet to win, and Gale hated losing.

"Hey, Haymitch, you got anymore?" Gale slurred. He giggled. "Hey, Haymitch? Geddit? Geddit?"

Haymitch was amused. Yes, he was slightly drunk, and only half-hearing what the boy was saying, but it did amuse him.

The boy - Gabe, was it? -Yes, something stupid like that - was sitting next to him, slightly swaying in his seat, his hips rocking into the sides of the chair keeping him up.

Yes, he'd wanted to say, to push the poor boy another shot, but something was bothering him. Haymitch squinted, leaning closer.

What was it about him?

Gale hiccupped, a drunken grin breaking across his face.

Haymitch frowned. Well, it certainly wasn't the smell of his burp that was bothering him. "How's Katniss?" Gale asked. But from the way he said it, it soundsd like the "s" was stretched out.

Haymitch looked at the boy warily, wondering if he was going to make another irrelevant comment.

"Why don't you have some?" Gale offered. He pushed the rubbing alcohol toward Haymitch. "It's good."

As if Haymitch didn't already know that.

Haymitch sighed, his eyes rolling back into his head.

" 'S vodka, stupid kid," He mumbled, taking the glass bottle and tipping it directly down his thoat, smiling at the taste - liquid fire. He set the bottle down - much lighter than it'd been before - and smirked at Gabe. Or whatever.

And damn, he didn't look too bad - hips slightly swaying, lips pursed in a grin, skin light and flecked with gold...

Haymitch leaned closer, trying to get a better look.

Gale didn't quite notice Haymitch leaning torwards him, too preoccupied with trying to figure out how many shots of vodka he'd had.

So much so, that he didn't notice as Haymitch leaned forward and snogged him. Unfortunately, they both got preggers and died, because sex is bad. Very bad.