First completed fanfic for fanfic100 Title: Nicotine Fandom: Rocky Horror Picture Show Characters: Riff Raff/Magenta, mention of others Prompt: Taste Word Count: 827 Rating: PG-13 (alludes to incest - hey, it's Rocky Horror) Summary: Riff Raff reflects on his sister and her addiction Author's Notes: Just a short little reflection, as most of my pieces are.
He had grown accustomed to the taste of nicotine on her lips. He mused about her strange love for cigarettes as he watched her sitting on the front steps of the castle, having slipped out for a quiet moment alone while one of Frank's parties raged inside. It was rare to see her looking so small, huddled against the background of the huge castle. She was more like a little girl than a woman, and it was slightly disconcerting.
She hadn't smoked on Transexual. There were no cigarettes on their home planet; it was already a world of giving in to desires and fulfilling fantasies. While alcohol was a large part of society, and there were a few drugs in existence, plain cigarettes were not needed. He had found that many of the Earthlings seemed to smoke in order to either escape, to make themselves appear more attractive, or both. They needed the excitement that something as mundane as nicotine addiction provided.
Frank had started smoking because he had seen a young boy in a leather jacket doing so and had subsequently decided that it was an attractive practice. Columbia seldom joined him in sharing a cigarette; she complained that the smoke wasn't good for her vocal chords. Magenta was a different story. She and Frank had a strange relationship, one that even Riff Raff could never entirely understand. It wasn't exactly friendship...but she was probably the closest thing to an actual friend that the arrogant young transvestite had ever had. He would yell at her as his servant one moment, then turn right around and offer her a drink the next. Oddly enough, his offers never seemed to be in the interest of any sort of sexual relationship. Sex and power were Frank's greatest pleasures, but somehow, he and Magenta had an unspoken understanding that he would never have sex with her or have complete power over her. As much as she despised Earth and their "mission", she only seemed to hate Frank himself when he was cruel to her beloved brother. So as long as she kept up the appearance of being a faithful servant and he never advanced farther than she wished, they seemed to be in a tentative peace treaty, if nothing else.
Frank was the one who had gotten her started on cigarettes. One day, he had offered one to her, and she had taken it, not wishing to cause trouble when it could be avoided. After that, she had smoked at least a handful of them a day, when she could get her hands on them. She had never become a heavy smoker; smoking was something she normally saved for relaxing, and they had precious little time to relax around the castle. Still, her breaks were frequent enough to keep the taste in her mouth for a little while. It was there when she held her tongue against something annoying Frank said, preferring to calm down and save her temper for when it was needed instead of letting it boil up inside of her the way her brother did. It was there when her brother's lips pressed against her own, stealing kisses when they could get away for a moment or when they were alone together at night. The taste had become a part of her, the same way her red lipstick was forever stained upon her lips and the smokey shadows never left her eyelids.
The cigarette dangled unlit from her mouth, the ash-white paper it was rolled in a stark contrast to her blood-red mouth, which was in turn a stark contrast to her ash-white face. He watched her silently, still far enough away so that, lost in her own thoughts as she was, she hadn't yet noticed his presence. She sucked on the end of the cigarette, staring ahead of her with her elbows resting on her knees and her shoulders slightly hunched. In that moment, Riff Raff pitied his sister, so alienated from the world around her. She didn't belong there any more than he did, although she had done a much better job at pretending to fit in. She had always been the more adaptive of the two. Still, looking at her caught between the amber glow shining from the house lights and the pale white reflection of the moon, he had never seen anyone look more out of place. No wonder she needed an addiction to stay sane.
Walking over to her, he took a seat beside her on the step. She barely glanced his way, and he wondered briefly if she had known he was standing there watching her all along. Reaching over, he plucked the cigarette out of her lips, then leaned in to kiss her softly, revelling in the mingled tastes of nicotine and her.
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lucky_magenta) wrote,
sleepy
