Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/520126.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Kick-Ass_(2010)
  Relationship:
      Todd/Dave_Lizewski
  Character:
      Todd, Marty, Dave_Lizewski
  Additional Tags:
      Characters_Reading_Fanfic, Dirty_Talk
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-09-24 Words: 1676
****** This Conversation is Rated NC17 ******
by gala_apples
Summary
     Todd likes Hit Girl RPS. His friends don't get it.
Todd’s not overly upset about his best friends spending half their time away
from him. He’s got things to do too. See, Marty has Erika, Dave has Katie, and
he’s spent the last six months reading Hit Girl fanfiction. There is a ton of
it on the internet. There are communities of people who like it, and the vast
majority of it makes him feel less creepy about his passion for her. It’s not
like he’s a tinhatter, truly believing Hit Girl and KickAss are really
together. For one the age difference is gross, at least until she gets a little
older. For another he doubts they’d fit together anyway. KickAss is much more
passive, while she’s aggressive.
It’s a secret interest until his mom crashes the car. It’s not a serious thing,
she’s not hurt and the garage isn’t that fucked up, only a piece of stucco has
fallen off. What it is, is an expensive thing. Expensive enough that for the
next few paychecks luxuries have to be cut. Which, along with no fresh fruit,
means no internet.
It’s enough to kill a twenty first century boy. Half his life is on the
internet. His porn is on the internet! Todd can’t even camp out at Marty’s or
Dave’s for the duration, Dad will get all pissed off about his spoiled
attitude. Just because his dad spent time helping orphans in Serbia before his
parents got married doesn’t mean that Todd should have to be grateful for
American conveniences. He lives in America! He has a right to American
conveniences!
The only thing left to do is spend his lunch hour and an hour after school in
the school’s computer lab. It’s supposedly filtered internet, but that seems to
be mostly for stuff like two girls one cup. Facebook is up, Pandora is up, WWE
is up. Most importantly, ao3 is up. He can spend forty five minutes reading and
the last fifteen copy and pasting a longfic into Microsoft Word and printing it
off. It’s supposed to be ten cents a sheet, but if the librarian doesn’t see
Todd doesn’t have to pay.
The cranky roar of the printer starts up. Todd slings his backpack over his
shoulder and makes his way to the desk in just enough time to meet Dave. He
smiles slightly at him, and curses Dave inside his head for working on his
essay at lunch before he switches over to praying that the first thing that
prints off is the essay so Dave goes away.
Once again, his luck is foul. Dave picks out the first sheet, probably still
warm from the printer, and skims it to make sure it’s his. The look on his face
says it’s not. Todd thinks about not claiming it, but he’s the only other one
that rushed to the printer. It’s pretty obvious it’s his. “It’s called fanfic.
Basically you write stories where straight characters suck dick or eat pussy.”
“What, like any straight characters?”
“They have it for everything. Harry Potter, Supernatural. Even real people like
Jon Stewart and My Chemical Romance and the Supernatural actors and shit.”
“Huh. Okay, well, enjoy that, I guess.”
It’s Marty that interrupts him the next day, coming up behind him with a shove
to the shoulder to try to startle him. He peers over his shoulder, and Todd
knows full well what will happen if he tries to change the tab quickly. Marty
will wrestle the mouse away from him and go back to the page, along with a
series of insults to him and his parentage. With an inner sigh he keeps the fic
up.
“What is that?”
“Hit Girl femmeslash.” Todd shouldn’t have to explain it any more than that.
Marty was the one that sent him WWE Diva fic when they were eleven and
introduced him to the concept of Rule 34.
“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again; she’s like ten. Creepy.”
“No, no. In fanfic you can age people up. She’s always teen age. I would never
read about a kid.”
“Okay, fine. You’re not a perv. But you need to stop reading porn and eat lunch
with us.”
There is maybe a ten percent chance that if he ignores Marty he’ll go away.
There’s a forty percent chance that if he ignores Marty he’ll get super-pissy.
It’s just not worth it. Todd logs out and goes with Marty to the caf. Which he
immediately regrets, when the first words out of Marty’s mouth are “Todd was
reading Hit Girl porn.”
Erika’s nose crinkles. “She’s like, a little kid.”
“Fucksakes, I don’t want her as a little kid, I like aged up.” How many times
does he have to say it? Todd scowls and opens his package of cold poptarts.
Everyone except his online friends are assholes.
Todd goes home with Dave because the alternative is multi-day leftovers and
trying not to freak when he overhears his parents arguing about cable tv being
a necessity or not. Dave has popcorn with melted cheese on top, and even when
his dad is home, he obviously has no one to argue with.
They’re in Dave’s bedroom when Dave tries to prank him. “Look. I’m Kick Ass. Me
and Katie will act out something for you, if you swear you’ll stop being a
creeper with the fanfiction thing.”
“Bullshit.” Dave’s KickAss like Marty knows a guy that knows Chyna.
“Which part? Because ask me how it felt to see Mis- to see Hit Girl’s dad die
beside me.”
Todd knows he should still think it’s bullshit, or at least focus on the fact
that if Dave saw Hit Girl’s dad die beside him, that means he was the one
getting fucked up while tied to the chair. But Hit Girl’s real name starts with
Mis. How many names could there possibly be that start with Mis?
“Pull something up. Find your favourite, and we’ll act it out, and you’ll stop
craving it.”
Todd wasn’t really expecting to be faced with a threesome when he woke up this
morning, but he’s hardly going to say no. He crashes into the computer chair
with the speed and might of Thor, and logs in to ao3. While Dave texts Katie he
scrolls through his bookmarks. There’s no point in asking for an AU, not when
the entire point of this is seeing Katie in an adult sized costume, and Dave in
a- no. Dave in the KickAss costume, stained with the sweat and blood that comes
of saving lives and occasionally getting tortured on national television.
“And actually no, I was wrong.” Dave puts his phone back into his pocket.
“Katie just said she’s not actually into threesomes. Sorry to get your hopes
up.”
“No, it’s okay. I was gonna believe it when I saw it.”
Dave bends over his shoulder to read. “‘Now I’ve got you cornered Hit Girl!
What should I do to make you talk? Perhaps I will orgasm it out of you.’ Todd,
jesus. That’s one of your favourites? That’s fucking horrible dialogue.”
“Okay, you think of something better then. What does KickAss himself think is
hot?”
“You want me-?”
“Yeah! If that dialogue is so bad, let’s hear you do better.”
Todd has to give him points for making eye contact. Even if it’s weird to be
gazing deep into a person’s eyes when they’re talking dirty, it take brass
balls to maintain it and not look away. Dave probably learned it from some of
the ridiculous shit he said while KickAss. If you can keep a straight face
while wearing scuba gear you can keep a straight face under any circumstances.
“I can smell you, you know. I can smell the desire pouring off your skin. It’s
like you’re in heat, but you only respond to me. You think the fact that you’re
wearing pants saves you, gives you a shielded layer to hide the way your cunt
is throbbing, but it doesn’t. If I stuck my hand down your pants, down past
your toned belly, down past your shaved mound, there’s only one thing I’d find,
and that’s your pussy, wet and aching to be filled.”
Todd can see it; Hit Girl about sixteen, KickAss the same age due to handwavey
magic. The same skirt and the same pants, but tighter now, skintight because
her body’s grown.
“I’d run a single finger down your inner lips, from clit to your sweet hole.
And when I got there your cunt would flutter, trying to catch my finger.”
Hit Girl would shiver, Todd’s sure of it. He’s shuddering, just imagining it.
“Because I know, I can tell from your wet underwear, so wet it would make a
slapping noise if I pulled it off you, so wet I could wring the panties and
drink your sweet sex juice. So fucking wet I can tell all you want, the only
think in the world you want is for me to fuck you.”
Dave pauses, long enough that he’s probably done. The silence gives Todd the
opportunity to say “Jesus Christ.”
Dave does a mock-bow. “Better than the fic dialogue?”
“Pardon me while I jerk the fuck off.”
“Really?”
“We’ll I’m hard and you’re in the room, so I’ll go to the next room.” He makes
a little nothing gesture, not at his dick or towards the door, just a flashing
movement so Dave will maybe stop staring directly at his face. It’s weird.
“Wouldn’t it be better if I kept talking?”
“What, while I jerk off?”
Dave shrugs. “I won’t have a gay freakout if you don’t have a gay freakout.”
“It’s not even gay. We’re talking about girls.”
“It’s a little gay,” Dave replies, sounding like Marty at his most annoying.
“You’re jerking off listening to me.”
“Fine. I won’t freak out about the instance of Kinsey one. Just keep talking.”
And hopefully he can remember most of it to transcribe later. No doubt his
fandom friends will enjoy the dirty talk as much as he currently is.
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