The night started like any other, with a mix of anticipation and nostalgia as I made my way to the local theater for a screening of the Rocky Horror Picture Show. It had been nearly a decade since I last experienced the cult classic, and I was eager to see how it had evolved, or if it had remained the same chaotic, delightful spectacle I remembered.

As I took my seat, the usher came by, looking for “virgins”—audience members who had never seen the show before. I was amused to know that I was quickly bypassed, earning me a smirk and a nod from the usher. The younger attendees, noticing my familiarity with the rituals, labeled me an “OG Rocky Cultist,” a title I wore with pride.

The show began, and as expected, it was a wild ride of song, dance, and audience participation. But it was during the chase scene through the mansion that things took an unexpected turn. The live cast ran through the audience, and to my surprise, the member dressed as Frank-N-Furter sat down on my lap to rest for a moment. I instinctively put an arm around their waist, and they smiled at me, their eyes sparkling with mischief. We chatted briefly, and I was struck by how feminine and soft they seemed, despite being in character as a male.

“I’ve seen you before,” Frank-N-Furter said, leaning in close. “You’re an old hand at this, aren’t you?”

“I’ve been around,” I replied, feeling a rush of excitement at the proximity. “But I haven’t seen you perform before. You’re quite the showstopper.”

He chuckled, his voice deep and resonant. “I aim to please. And I must say, you’re quite the catch yourself.”

I was taken aback, but not displeased. As we talked, I noticed how soft his skin was, almost unnaturally so. I reached out to touch his cheek, and he leaned into my touch, his eyes never leaving mine. It was a moment of pure connection, and I felt a spark of something I hadn’t expected.

“I’ve never met anyone quite like you,” I said, my voice low. “You’re so ... different.”

He leaned in closer, his breath hot against my ear. “And you like what you see, don’t you?”

Before I could respond, he kissed me on the cheek, a quick, gentle press of lips that sent a jolt of electricity through me. I felt an involuntary reaction, my body responding to his touch in a way I hadn’t anticipated. I glanced down and saw that I was hardening, and when I looked back up, Frank-N-Furter was smirking, clearly noticing my response.

“Looks like you’re enjoying the show,” he murmured, his voice laced with suggestion. “Maybe we should continue this conversation after the performance?”