Disclaimer: I love Rocky Horror something fierce, but I am, by no means, linked to it. Simply a Regular Frankie Fan.
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There was no sun on their home planet, only the constant moon to make everything silver, and black, and blue. That was still his favorite time to look at her, although in the castle, it was always dark. In the shadows, when they were attending to their Master's needs, they'd be lurking there, where she'd let him stroke her sunless skin again. Riff Raff remembered the first time they went outside, had to obtain certain anatomy from the nearby cemetery, and they both burned. She wouldn't let him touch her for a weak, it hurt that bad, and would only let him see her in their beloved shadows, she felt too ugly. But when burns faded, and she was wonderfully opaque again (they didn't tan, thankfully) and the only color on his face was around his sunken eyes, they made up for lost time.
That was when they would be slaves to emotion, when Magenta would hiss the loudest, and when his normally cold eyes would burn just for her. Once their clothes were off, on the floor, in the corner, thrown everywhere in the heat of the moment, their eyes would take over. Looking at her, breasts freed from the black cloth, and his bones protruding from the corded muscles, they'd walk slowly towards each other, a rare smile on his face, and an excited, enticed one on hers. It was their way of taunting each other, building up the moment until they had to pounce.
A few steps taken, and they were facing each other, his hands itching to get tangled in her long curls. But first, their tradition: Palm to palm, moving their arms upward until the elbows touched, and their fun could really begin.
Every inch of his body would have goosebumps from the exposure to air; every inch of his bony body was tense as they fell down onto the dirty ground. Dust raised in small clouds as their kisses became hungry and uninhibited, their lives forgotten, at that moment, they lived for just each other. Each "Magenta, my Magenta," and every "Riff Raff, my darling" brought them closer to each other, every gasp of shock-could anything really feel that good? –Fueled them to keep going.
As far as the handyman was concerned, the cause and effects seemed to be at his mercy. He bit down on her nipple; it hardened from the touch and the wetness. He'd bite down on her exposed neck, and the coo she'd utter would make him arch his back. Riff Raff savored every time his fingers got caught in Magenta's red mane, the way she'd throw her head back and laugh uncontrollably.
Every thrust into her was a victory; every cry of devotion, of something deeper than lust brought back more energy to him. Through it all, their eyes would be locked into each other, saying even more than their shouts and murmurs could. Her climaxing scream, bringing her head back, silently asking for her white neck to be bitten and sucked on again. Her smile, a dark, dreary smile that would fade when the doctor's voice sounded.
It almost always finished when the Master would call for them; and than they'd slink, temporarily sedated, back into the shadows.
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My first attempt at a RiffxMagenta fic. Please don't shoot me with a laser if you don't like it!