Disclaimer: Ritz owns all these characters, and I'm just a strange American girl.
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The master always had his way with him. It didn't matter if he had just fixed the boiler, the sink and the clock (could he really fix the clock? It always went haywire after a few days) and his balding brow was slick with perspiration, his transvestite employer got what he wanted. And it always hurt, because Riff Raff was just the help.
The prince was skilled, but those skills were reserved for "better" beings, and the handyman did not qualify. He was just the one to fuck when the groupie was sick and the greaser was in the freezer. Magenta always made herself scarce, could tell from the gleam in Frank's eyes that it was either herself or her brother. He would forgive her, always would for choosing the selfish option. He would sacrifice his dignity, as long as his beautiful sister could remain his, just his. But it came with a price: His rage would grow, his revulsion for the master would be pushed closer to the point of no return.
The handyman was just the pawn for pleasure, a quick release of hormones for the raven haired Transylvanian, and he would tense as his trousers were dropped hastily and the thrusts that came to quickly would begin. He could never make a sound; that would let his "superior" win. Biting his lip, face contorting from hatred, Riff Raff just told himself it was protocol, and that one day, he would get Frank back.
Every finish was abrupt, Frank had stamina, but it wouldn't be wasted on him. He would be used roughly and carelessly, simply because he could. The handyman would fall down, pulling up his pants from his knobby ankles, disgusted in himself and his sore backside. Than he'd glare up, and say, "Yes master" to whatever tedious chore he was assigned to. With a click of six-inch heels, the master would be gone, off to find his next prey.
Of course he'd do the task, he'd do it well, but spite prevented perfection. The hours that followed the sex would be bitter and his temper would flare more quickly than usual. The groupie would get her feeling's hurt, but his sister knew better. She'd be quiet if he'd come to bed when she asked, where their forms fitting together would be his healing. She'd give him space as long as in the end, he would whisper his plans, and promise to get the free…soon. She'd hide when Frank wanted "intimacy," to help fuel her brother's hate, get them one step closer to going home.
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Aww, I wrote this really quickly, and it probably shows. Just felt like writing a little Riff/Frank slash, and showing how crafty Magenta is. Review?
