Science Fiction Triple Feature
by Cookie Heist
Summary: When Hojo's car breaks down, he, his wife Lucrecia, and her bodyguard Vincent must seek shelter at a castle in the middle of the wilderness. They meet the castle's owner and his unusual party guests. As midnight approaches, will they succumb to the same pleasure as Brad and Janet?
Genre: Humor, crossover
Rating: PG-13 or R-ish, whatever Rocky Horror Picture Show rated this scene.
Warnings: Frank N. Furter, poorly written implied sex, language.
Disclaimer: The dialogue is adapted from what I remember of the movie, and Square Enix owns Final Fantasy VII.
Notes: Let it be known that I am not really a Rocky Horror Picture Show buff, so if I didn't do the film justice, I'm sorry. I'm doing this for the lols, that's all.
As midnight approached, the unusual maid and handyman showed Hojo, Lucrecia, and Vincent to their separate rooms.
Hojo's mind was churning with new ideas. Although he disapproved of some of Frank N. Furter's...habits... he was yearning to have a talk with his fellow scientist, to learn more about how the creature Rocky Horror was created... His mind was occupied with scientific curiosities, but he was only slightly surprised when his thoughts were interrupted by Vincent's loud, irritating protests.
"As Lucrecia's husband, are you really going to stand for this? These strangers have already stripped up of our clothes and weapons, and as her bodyguard it's my job to protect--"
Hojo laughed to himself. Vincent looked rather ridiculous, wearing nothing but boxer shorts, an empty holster, and the socks and shoes that matched his Turk suit. He was too skinny and his limbs were awkwardly long. To think that Hojo had worried he would have to compete with something like that, ridiculous...
As Vincent spoke up in Lucrecia's defense, he had to force himself not to look at her. All night, he had been unsuccessful at this. She just looked so dam good in those lacy panties and that push-up bra, and it would be so easy to sneak away from Hojo, down some empty corridor, and slip them off... It just seemed like the only natural thing to do, but Hojo was here.
Vincent was still having a hard time believing Lucrecia's marriage to Hojo wasn't just some kind of pity-fuck gone too far. But if she's happy, I don't mind, he told himself again. This is about her safety, not my...urges.
"As her husband," Hojo sneered in response, "I'd prefer to take on the duty of protecting her this night."
The maid sniggered unattractively at this.
"One night alone isn't so bad," Lucrecia told her husband. "I'll be all right, and we'll be out of here in the morning, once we fix the car. We'll have the whole afternoon back at the manor."
Hojo nodded, a self-satisfied smile spreading across his face.
"Lucrecia, I can't allow--" Vincent started to protest.
"Separate rooms are the master's orders," the handyman interrupted flatly, and that was that.
&&&
After thoroughly checking the room and discovering, as he suspected, a camera angled at his bed, Hojo settled down for sleep.
Naturally he wants his guests involved in some perverse science project. How juvenile, Hojo thought as he closed his eyes. He could understand the appeal, but the execution was lacking.
Then he heard a soft voice at the door. It was unmistakeably Lucrecia's.
"Come in."
She giggled as she crawled into bed, leaning over him. "Oh, Hojo!"
He reached for her, and instead of touching her hair, he felt—a wig?
With his other hand, he grabbed his glasses from the bedside table. "It's you!"
Frank N. Furter laughed. "It is."
"What have you done with Lucrecia?" Hojo demanded.
"Nothing," Frank N. Furter pouted, as if insulted by the implication.
"I've no interest in you. Get off me immediately."
"Are you sure? You might even enjoy it."
"Ahh! No, that's quite enough."
"Shh, shh, you wouldn't want your wife to find you like this!"
As Frank N. Furter's lips approached the elastic of Hojo's underwear, he relented. "This will be an –ooh!-- interesting experiment!!"
&&&
Vincent paced the room. His instinct, honed by training with the Turks, told him he could not sleep in this room. He had searched the room for cameras and bugs and found several, which he had tried to disconnect, but he had the sneaking suspicion there were more. This mess was making him very uncomfortable. He had to make sure Lucrecia was safe and get his gun back, then the two of them would run for it.
He heard a knock on the door, and a sing-song whisper: "Vincent."
"Lucrecia...! Come in. I couldn't sleep. We need to escape."
She laughed. "Escape? We have till morning. Right now it's the two of us, totally alone, in this luxurious bedroom." Slowly she backed him towards the bed, fingers playing across his chest, straddling his legs.
"I suppose I can wait... just a little longer..." He reached for her, but instead of stroking her hair, he pulled off a wig. "It's you!"
"It is," Frank N. Furter laughed.
"What have you done with Lucrecia?"
"Nothing," Frank N. Furter pouted, as if insulted by the implication. His fingers traced down Vincent's pectoral muscle, across his abdomen.
Vincent slapped at his hand. "Get away, don't touch me!"
But Frank N. Furter pressed harder against him, holding him down and kissing him, moving down his body. "Don't you want this pleasure?"
"No, no! Lucrecia!"
"No need to cry out. Would you want your lover to see you like this?"
Against his will, Vincent moaned in delight.
&&&
Lucrecia sat up in bed when she heard a soft knock at the door.
"It's me."
"Vincent, oh god, come in," she sighed. "I've waited for you."
Vincent rolled into bed with her, stretching himself over top of her body. "Lucrecia, I was worried."
"I don't want to talk now," she whispered, and pressed a kiss to his lips. Surprised, she released him, squinting at him in the darkness. She reached to touch his hair and instead pulled off a wig. "It's you!"
Frank N. Furter laughed. "It is."
"Hojo and Vincent are sleeping soundly?" she asked.
"Of course," Frank N. Furter purred.
"Well," she breathed, looking at his heavily made-up eyes, "I've never done it like this before!"
They both giggled as they dove under the sheets.