Parallels

October 30th. Twenty-eight hours until the Midnight Theater opened its doors. Magenta’s tights had been repaired twice. Columbia ordered pizza for the dress rehearsal and the stagehands were playing catch with the mock-up of Eddie’s head.

And in the tank that would later birth Rocky Horror himself, Frank N’ Furter huddled against one wall, staring at the discarded mummy wrappings his friend would be wearing later. Now, Marek strutted around the stage in gold lame shorts, his skin even paler than usual from a recent shaving. The dragon tattoo coiled bright over his shoulder and down his ribs. Steve peeked over the edge to watch as the director and star Rocky performer dropped into a crouch at the edge of the stage and Magenta handed him a pizza box. The shorts hugged his sculpted ass and thighs so perfectly that Steve closed his eyes and sank down again.

He and Marek had grown up together, closer than brothers. They had shared a first kiss under the bleachers in high school, a kiss that had meant more to Steve than it had to Marek. Twenty years later, it still burned in his memory. He didn’t have to pretend Frank’s mouthwatering lust for Rocky on stage, only that it vanished off stage.

Steve looked up; Marek smiled down at him. “Supreme with extra olives. I saved you some.”

“Thanks.”

“Doing okay?”

“No.”

Marek’s lips twisted. “Should I put something on?”

“You’re fine.”

“You need me to call Simon?”

“No.” Steve sighed and forced a smile. “I’m fine. You don’t need the understudy.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Marek handed him the box. “Have some pizza. Join the cast.”

Steve nodded. “Okay.” He tried not to watch Marek’s ass as he walked away. Someday, he’d find a way to let this go. Someday.

Word Count: 299