DISCLAIMER: I own none of the story of characters from the Rocky Horror Picture Show, which are property of Richard O'Brien and 20th Century Fox, respectively. This didn't happen, it's all in fun, and believe me, you'd get nothing if you sued.
The sun lanced through the crimson stained glass window, stabbing into the prince of darkness's solitary slumber.
Frank mumbled, rolled over, and sat up, pale limbs tangled in satin sheets. He shivered, eyes clouding over. One milk-white arm reached out toward the dish of priceless powder that would be his first of thirteen that day.
He still needed this, or so he thought, until Columbia whirled into his lap, reeking of Earth's finest Mary-Jane and Earth's worst sex.
He turned her over on top of the sheets, like a red-haired rabbit on a spit, and set out to change that.
The house creaked sleepily as Riff Raff dropped down from his attic lair, trying to forget the primal jealousy that had crept up on him as he tried to read by the light of the lonely moon while hearing those unmistakable noises from below, of the Master and the girl he endearingly called his 'baby'. Riff Raff couldn't understand it, and what he couldn't understand he hated, arbitrary and petty though it might be. He wished they had never met her, one of Earth's gaudy lights. She had become Frank's satellite, knocking the handyman out of his accustomed, gloomy orbit.
You Don't Care About Us
The door slammed, making the whole castle tremble. Magenta stood perfectly still for a moment, staring wide-eyed at the unpainted wood, as Frank's despairing tears could almost be heard to fall on his creature's semi-formed skin.
Riff stood beside her, staring just as blankly, then reached blindly for her hand, clenching it too tightly. "A minor setback. My fault." His voice scratched his throat like a small animal clawing its way out of a cage. "But he's given up on us." He laughed, bitterly, and they fled the hall, knowing there would be no escape if the Prince found them.
Ask For Answers
"Wait, I can explain—"
"Oh, I'd love to hear it!" Columbia snapped, turning from where she was soaking a cloth in the sink, "I'd love to know why you're stumbling from Frank's bedroom with his lipstick on your face!"
Her words pinned him down, and he reached desperately for the right answer to appease her. He cracked his knuckles in their black glovers, avoiding her eyes, staring out at the black forest and wishing for the seas of another land. "We all share him." he told her, shuddering beneath the cold water as she savagely scrubbed his face clean.
Without You I'm Nothing
I cannot continue on this present course; it shall destroy me. Returning to our homeland was never a choice; it was a necessity, for without those moonlit shores, we will surely perish. However, death begins to have a friendly gaze, the slow burn of the stars has the promise of death, peering like a voyeur into the universe of men and…others. Aliens, bending new paths between planets. Watch my eyes as I crash like a felled evergreen, like a rocket ship out of control…I am crying, and the Master was the only one who could fill my eyes with tears.
Allergic (To Thoughts Of Mother Earth)
Frank stuck his cherry-pink tongue between his teeth, thinking so hard his eyes nearly crossed, and drew one last decisive line of lipstick across the tile walls. Wobbling on glittering heels, he backed up to survey his handiwork.
"It's perfect, Master." Riff Raff skulked across the floor, a roll of papers under one arm. "Exactly the way I told you…You always had a talent for mimicking…" He sneered, watching the storm gather on Frank's face, reveling in it.
Lightning struck. The ceiling crumbled in a shower of pink tiles, making way for the creature. Frank slapped him across the face.
"I miss the way things were." The wistfulness in his voice was sharp, sudden. For a moment, heartbeats long, Frank forgot to breath, and let his mind fill with darkness.
Frank staggered, stumbled, slipped on the freezing tiled floor. His usually confident, swaggering posture was bent, as if under some immense weight. His eyes, squeezed tight shut, surrounded him in velvet blackness, but did nothing to drown out the guilt that blossomed like a wicked ache deep in his delicate bones.
For now, in the lonely dark, he was the one shuddering beneath the sting of his own manic deeds.
Every You, Every Me
Their cheeks were scarlet, their breath coming fast, as they rounded the last corner, dove for the doorway, and scuffled like a pair of teenage kittens as they both fought for the same tiny space behind the dresser.
"Shove over, would you? I'll be in more trouble if they find us anyway."
"Sure, but you don't want me losing my position, do you?" A hard dig in the ribs, and as suggestive a look as could come from such dilated pupils.
"Never." The Prince looked almost tender before swooping suddenly to suck along the other's neck.
No one missed them.
My Sweet Prince
There were many things he had never thought of doing when he boarded that glittering flying saucer, head bowed and brain cells whirring with possibilities.
He hadn't expected to be learning. For all his life, he'd been the teacher, but now he was following along behind a half-crazed beauty whose very glare could make him sweat. They hardly spoke, but somehow secrets passed between them as easily as a needle. The sweaty, moonlit addiction spiraled downward.
"What is this, what we've got?" he dared ask once, as they lay still hot in each other's arms. His Prince couldn't answer.
He remembered a sticky summer, running through the golden sands, leaving their titles and duties behind and tasting red wine and freedom. That was long ago now, but it felt like just yesterday, and somehow he knew they could reach that place again, but it was too much work. His brain and eyes were playing tricks on him, the castle closing in and the footsteps of the one he had once trusted most on that sorry Earth sounded menacing. He stared at his pinched, powdered reflection, and sang to the air and the one lover he wished he had kept.
Scared Of Girls
His heart was pounding like a jackrabbit on the run through the sand and he could barely see the lights were so bright and red and the girl was falling and maybe he felt better now but nothing could fix the way those eyes were looking at him except looking away and leveling the laser and saying things he didn't mean like a lover lost and death flowed red through his fingertips and girls and boys were all the same when death's mask came to grin at them and he was free but nothing mattered beyond dolls fallen to death.
As the castle drifted on its astoundingly peaceful flight home, Riff Raff paced the floor below the stage, aimless even with his tormentor dead and gone. Dead. It seemed so final, in a universe where everything, from time to sex, was fluid.
He watched the water, and after a moment, murmured "Hey…you." He knelt beside the body, shook it gently so that water droplets sparkled in the dim glow of the stars.
He was comforted, rather than startled, when the pale face with its still-crimsoned lips seemed to shift into a smile.
"Dream for me." the smile seemed to whisper.
Sleeping With Ghosts
Riff Raff lay, tense as a corpse, feeling the soothing purr of the engines as the house sped through space. As often happened, he was sick with fear, but the cause of his fear was gone for good. Why should he still want to hide now?
The air shimmered before his weary eyes, and the Master appeared, wreathed in a pearly astral glow. He offered his hand, nails varnished blood-red, looking as insubstantial as a dream before the dawn. The pull of those eyes was too strong.
"Genius dies young," Frank opened blood-red lips, calling him to the other side.