diaphenia | Fic: Young Adult Dystopian Novels (And Why You Shouldn’t Bring Them to Bed)

Title: Young Adult Dystopian Novels (And Why You Shouldn’t Bring Them to Bed)
Author:

saucydiva
Word count: 2.5K
Rating: R for sexytimes, and April.
Disclaimer: Clearly I don’t own this show, facebook, The Hunger Games, Twilight, or Harry Potter, or I would attempt to swim the English Channel (and drown)
Timeline: Post 4x18

Summary: Leslie and Ben decide to do some role-playing. Smut/ensemble fic/smut again.

Spoilers: None for Parks but there are for The Hunger Games- the first book and/or movie. A character later speculates on how the love triangle will resolve itself, but he hasn’t read the books.

If you haven’t read the books and have no intention of doing so, you’ll probably still enjoy yourself, just read any competent movie review and you’ll be caught up enough to follow.

Author’s Note:

rikyl recognizes I haven’t done my taxes yet but encouraged me to post this anyway. Luckily,

stillscape recognizes that sitting next to a W-2 is not “doing taxes” and is insisting pretty hard, so I’m posting this and doing them, I swear.

Oh! And I'd be remiss not to mention that

shornt wrote Happy Pawnee Games, and when

ashisfriendly requested something that covered similar ground, I decided that what she wanted instead was smut.

“I feel like before we start, we should just—I mean, I know it’s not in the books, but I think we should play it like we’re over eighteen.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Katniss is only seventeen. And it’s just… weird, otherwise.”

“I guess? You’re overthinking this.” Leslie leans down to kiss Ben on the mouth, but he keeps frowning. She sighs, and puts her index finger under his chin, pulling him to face her. “This is supposed to be fun.”

“I mean, sure, political figures are one thing.”

“If Joe Biden didn’t want to be objectified, he wouldn’t keep looking like he does,” she says with a giggle.

“And Hannah/Drake, those were our own creation.’

Leslie smirks then fans herself. Hannah was teaching Drake, sweet young secret virgin Drake, how best to please a woman using only his—

“But role-playing the Hunger Games kids seems… problematic. Now that they have faces. Of-age faces. But just barely of-age faces.”

She groans. “If I had known you were going to be like this, I— probably still would have gone to the midnight showing. But maybe with Ann instead. I’m just sorry she came down with the flu and couldn’t go with us. Glad she cleared up and could still go to work the next day.”

“Funny, that.”

“Let’s go, though. Ok. So. Let me set the stage. I’m Katniss, six—er, eighteen year old. Dark and beautiful. One with the land. Great with a bow and arrow, if you know what I mean.” She could see on his face when he shifted from being vaguely suspicious of the whole thing to being into it. It didn’t hurt she was running the back of her hand up and down his bare chest, or that she was running the back of her hand up and down his bare chest while she was straddling him.

She leans over and starts running kisses up and down his jaw line, which was just a little sand-paper-y. Ben’s a morning shaver, and—come to think of it, none of the guys in the movie had beards. But that is ok, because he’s tangling his fingers in her hair—she wasn’t able to do a long braid down her back, so she went with braided pigtails, and he’s weaving his finger in near her scalp, and slipping his tongue into her mouth. She pulls away, and starts kissing down his chest, pausing to lick his nipples till he whimpers. The entire time, she’s whispering nonsense phrases about how she’s a hunter and he’s her prey.

She stops narrating for a bit, because her mouth is otherwise engaged. Not that Ben seems upset by this; his pupils are huge in the moonlight, taking her in.

When she finishes that, she says, “And you and I are forbidden from loving each other, kept apart by a cruel and twisted system.”

He kisses her deeply, and then tucks her into his side, their heads drooping together. “Or more like pushed into loving each other, by circumstances.”

Leslie can feel her eyelids starting to get heavy. “No, it’s really more of a Harry/Hermione thing. Best friends and all that.”

“Wait, you want me to be Gale?”

“Absolutely. Sexy best-friend turned lover. Hunter like me. Who would I want you to be?”

Ben looks a little offended. “Peeta! Star-crossed lover, gentle, good with his hands—“

She can't argue with that one.

“Creative soul, baker. I mean, I baked you cheese buns this afternoon, remember?”

“I thought you were just concerned about my calcium intake!”

“No, I was preparing for the role.”

“Is that a bread joke?”

Ben rolls his eyes at her. “I’m nothing like Gale. At all.”

“I know,” she says, contemplating how to turn this conversation back to the part where he went down on her. “But Gale’s hot.”

“Do you wish I was more like him? Great at hunting, able to take a beating, a strategist.” Ben asks, looking at his hands. “Wait, you know who Gale is?”

“Miley Cirus’s boyfriend.”

“No. Ron Swanson.”

“No…. no no no.” She rolls off of him, and then covers her face in her hands. No.

When she looks back at Ben, he looks peeved. “He is! You want me to be more like Ron.”

“I don’t. I like you just the way you are.”

“Do you wish I could, I don’t know, trap rabbits and shoot birds?”

“No! I already have Ron to go hunting with—“

His eyes grow wide. “Are you seriously telling me you hunt?”

“Are you pretending you don’t know that? I have my hunting gear in the closet!”

“You have everything else in the closet! You think I’d be able to find one outfit?” He pauses, and she has to admit her closet has gotten a little messy since the election started. “How often do you slaughter woodland creatures?”

“I don’t know! Far less often than you eat hamburgers!” She’s mad now, not sure why Ben’s acting so weird over Ron—or hunting—or dystopian YA novels? Regardless, she’s ready to go ahead and fight.

But Ben’s already pulling on some pajama pants, and grabbing his pillow, and going out to the couch.

Leslie stares at the ceiling, touching her braided pigtail every so often.

It’s the first night they haven’t slept together in ages.

***

It was too much to hope that his roommates hadn’t overheard their argument. Ben recognizes this as surely as he recognized all basic facts: prices would rise, the world would turn, his roommates would overhear him fighting with his girlfriend about role-playing.

So when he goes to the kitchen the next morning, he’s not surprised that April’s sitting at the table, reading a paperback copy of the book that had caused all the trouble in the first place. She never looks at him, at least not when he’s looking at her, but she’s made her point.

He’s lying low when he sees the facebook invite.

Come one, come all, to the Leslie Knope For City Council Hunger Games Viewing Party!

“You can’t do this,” he says, sauntering into the Parks Department with more bravado than bravery. He can put up a front; he already had the car ride over to rant and rave and feel.

“I’m the youth coordinator. I’m coordinating youth,” she says.

Tom, who’s sitting nearby, doing, as far as Ben can see, absolutely nothing, agrees. “It’s the hottest ticket in Pawnee right now. It’s what people are talking about, and you have to give the people what they want.”

“And what if what they want is child-murder? We can’t tie Leslie to a movie about child-murder.”

“Yeah,” April says, deadpan. “We’d hate for Leslie to be associated with a powerful woman who overcomes the odds and brings honor to her town.”

After that, Ben realizes he’s not going to win this argument, though he gives it his best.

April takes care of everything, which surprises Ben. He expected she was going to dump the project in his lap, or at least Ann’s lap, but April does it all. He asks her about food (I got it) and alcohol (Of course not, some of them are under 21) and above all, how they can afford to rent out a theater (I called in a favor. Turns out the theater owner is a jazz fan.) And then she dismisses him, leaving him to puzzle that one out.

A week later, they’re in a standing-room only presentation of the movie. Leslie speaks a bit beforehand, telling everyone to join them in the party room at the end of the show, where there will be cake— and fundraising— but most importantly cake. She’s telling them to enjoy the show, and weaves in a few metaphors that draw parallels between her and the heroine, and everyone claps.

Team Leslie stands through the show, in the back of the theater. Ben leans against the wall, ignoring the movie and watching his friends. He contemplates the last time they’d all watched a movie together. Twilight, in the park, back when he was still an auditor. And they were all world away from where they’d been at that time. April and Andy were married. Chris had given up auditing, and was now City Manager, single but settled down into this strange little town. Ann was now working for City Hall, and dating Tom, not that anyone would guess since she mostly seemed to avoid eye contact with him. Jerry looked even sicker than he had in that park. Ron wasn’t dating Tom’s ex-wife, though he must be dating someone, given that he’s wearing that Tiger Woods get-up. Only Donna seems unchanged. She’s much less engaged in this movie than in Twilight, possibly due to a lack of sparkly vampires and/or vaguely racist werewolf tribes, so she spends most of the movie texting. When Ben asks her if she’s enjoying the show, she says she really wanted to see more of the cute guy from District Twelve, and it was all Ben could do not to groan.

As for him and Leslie… two years ago, they’d been warring factions, or at least she’d been at war with him. They’d reached a tenuous friendship by then, still being careful around each other. Then he’d stayed in town, and she started returning his furtive glances, and they’d become lovers. And he’d gone from Indianapolis auditor to Assistant City Manager of this crazy little town, to unemployed screw-up, to campaign manager for the best candidate he’d ever had the pleasure of meeting. And Leslie had risked everything, from her job to her campaign, for him. He shifted over to her, and she grabbed his hand. Worth it, it had all been worth it.

As the movie draws to a close, Ann and Leslie shift into action, ushering young people into the party room for cake and donations. Meanwhile, the rest of the team splits up and starts chatting up stray young people, talking up Leslie, shoving cake and punch into the hands of the young, and occasionally getting a few bucks here and there for the campaign.

Ben watches Ron demonstrate what appeared to be the way to shoot a bow and arrow to a person about April’s age. When the kid moves on, Ben swoops in.

“What’d you think of the movie?”

Ron chuckls to himself. “That Katniss is going to be one attractive brunette when she grows up.”

“And her archery?”

“Magnificent.”

Ben considers how to sound casual, and fails to achieve it. “What’d you think of the love triangle?”

“What love triangle? She’s going with the blond.”

Ben is fairly certain Ron has neither read the source material nor paid attention to the media coverage. “Why do you say that? After all, she could just as likely end up with the hunter. They have so much in common.”

Ron gives him the same look as he did when Ben accidentally let it slip he couldn’t tie a square knot. “Yes, but the girl and the boy are both willing to sacrifice themselves for the people they love. That matters more than common hobbies. Trust me. Tammy and I used to have a lot in common. Mostly things involving love-making and the various positions we favored.”

“That’s… that’s really gross, actually. But sweet, what you said about sacrifice. Have you read the books? Because—“

“No, son, they’re books for children. I am not a child. Besides, books, as an object, only hold certain… memories for me.”

Really gross.

***

That night, Leslie’s eyes sparkle and she's flush with the success of her fundraiser. They’d brought in some money for the campaign—no one had donated more than the cost of the movie ticket, but enough of them had contributed a bit that it added up to double their expenses—and more than that, they’d gotten fourteen people registered to vote. They were almost certain the story would appear in the paper tomorrow, under the headline Knope Campaign Hungry for Gamey Voters, but then Leslie’d been under a lot of pressure lately, so that was fine, and it wasn’t like Shauna couldn’t write her own headlines—

His thoughts are cut off by a sudden kiss from Leslie. She pulls him down on top of her, clutching his back, tickling the hairs at the bottom of his neck. He kisses back, opening his mouth, running his hand over her hip bone, tracing the curve of her thigh. For a moment, he stops, and presses his forehead to hers, smiling down at her. Then she braces her left leg against his, and uses some momentum from her right leg to roll him over, landing on top of him. She rips off her shirt, and he’s momentarily lost, so much does she remind him of that painting on her wall behind them.

“Powerful warrior goddess,” he murmurs, and she shakes her head.

“Not tonight.” She gets a dreamy look on her face. “Let’s go back to Catherine the Great. And you’ll be one in the long line of young studs—“

“Nah, let’s try to do that Hunger Games thing again.”

She pushes her hair behind her ears. “Are you sure? Because last time—“

“I know. I know. But you deserve to revel in your success tonight.”

She pulls the hair rubber bands off her wrists and starts braiding her hair. “And you’ll be…?”

“Whoever you damn well want me to be,” he says, cribbing Ron’s tone. Ron was right, after all. He’d never be a hunter, but he could more open to Leslie’s scenarios.

Her eyes sparkle mischievously. “Anyone?”

Ben starts smoothing his hands over her thighs, brushing his thumbs where her thighs connect with his, over and over. “Anyone.”

Leslie leans over and whispers in his ear. “Excellent. You’re Haymitch.”

The mentor? He could handle that.

“Yeah, I asked Ron who you should be, and he said ‘the Cheers guy.’”

Ben feels his stomach drop. “Leslie, are you kidding?”

She grins. “Absolutely. Now come to bed… you drunken lout-slash-father figure.”

Ben's just starting to wonder who Leslie’s real-life father figure is when she leans down, and he decides it doesn’t really matter at all.