Work Text:
"I can’t believe you talked me into this."
Darcy patted Steve on the ass, which was currently encased in some very fetching gold lamé short shorts. “Be glad I didn’t tell them you were a virgin or you’d have lipstick on your forehead and be down on the stage with the rest of them,” she whispered in his ear.
“Do I want to know what happens to virgins at this thing?”
“Oh, you’ll see,” she said with a grin.
They settled into their seats, Darcy put their bag of props between their seats. It had everything they’d need for the show - rice, newspaper, dry toast, water pistols, a couple small flashlights, latex gloves, noisemakers, confetti, toilet paper, some party hats, tiny bells she had swiped from the Tower’s holiday decorations, and cards. She had been at shows where they throw hot dogs, but this particular theater wasn’t cool with it.
She grabbed her phone and flipped on the rear-facing camera before putting her head on
Steve’s bare shoulder. “Smile!” she said, and snapped the pic.
“I’m never going to live this down, am I?” He was blushing again.
“Aw, don’t worry about it,” she told him, kissing him on the cheek. “Almost everyone I know has gone to at least one Rocky Horror show. There just haven’t been any who actually were created in a lab to look stupid hot.”