#floorshow brad ..

[tiahnaparisart]

🫦 FLOORSHOW 👄

don’t dream it, be it.

prismacolors on paper, early 2021

[barely-getting-bi]

the brad majors himbo to bimbo pipeline is SO REAL

[anonymousfisch]

(I am only talking about the movie not the live show)

I had to think about how Brad was really into the Frankenstein place when he saw that it frightened Janet. The second she started to enjoy herself he began to hate it and tried to keep her in her place.

One of the more fascinating moments is obviously how he tries his macho bs with Frank but it doesn’t work.

Frank literally lets him yell and then pokes fun of Brads display of toxic masculinity by playing into his sexual insecurities. Which is really at the heart of a lot of Brads behaviour (IMO). He is incredibly insecure (implied gay) and completely unable to break out of the system he finds himself in.

Frank picks up on those insecurities and forces Brad to confront them throughout the entire movie.

And it’s interesting how Brads behaviour changes after having sex for the first time. He isn’t as aggressive anymore he even displays submissive behaviour/tendencies especially towards Frank.

Which is something continued even when he tries to be more aggressive again during Planet Janet he gets turned into a statue.

His floorshow number is literally about the conflict he feels between the way he is supposed to be (sexuality, gender) and how he actually wants to express himself something Frank is forcing out of him.

He in the end is the one who says "what’s his crime?" And that obviously can be read in a very different context when you consider that Brad is gay/bi. Literally having to watch the person who changed him into his true self get murdered in front of him. It could be interpreted as his first experience with homophobia now that the story is over. And all that is left is darkness (superheroes).

Because don’t forget Brad is the one who judged people who were different from him very harshly in the beginning (The motorcyclists). And both him and Janet are implied Republicans so now he has to deal with the fact that he has become "the other" who will be judged the way he judged others.

There is obviously some more subtext that can be read into it that I want to write down in the future about Frank being a creator/god/jesus metaphor. These are just some thoughts I had after watching this movie again

[deathbydran0]

Frank-N-Furter Headcanons:

Does Frank make most of his own clothes? Yes, yes he does. It's literally the only job he does himself because he doesn't trust the others to get it right.

I think Janet would be able to sew. Nothing major, she's just good with a needle and thread and can patch things up easily. Sometimes she'll sit with Frank of an evening while he's making a new piece and they just have a ✨girls night✨

This is literally canon but whatever, Frank can sprint in stilettos.

He gives off 'I set my makeup with hairspray' vibes and would probably see how many days it stayed on for before he'd have to take it off and redo it.

Refuses to go outside in the rain so it doesn't ruin his hair, makeup and outfit.

I've said this before but I love it so much: Frank refuses to wear any footwear that aren't heels. If he's made to, he's over dramatic and pretends he can't walk in them.

If any of the others notice that Frank's upset they generally ask him if he wants to do their makeup because it's something he likes doing. It generally perks him up a bit.

Another one I've said before: He owns a tattoo gun and keeps trying to persuade Brad into letting him give him a tattoo.

Frank has probably also given himself stick and pokes before (with tattoo ink, we're not having a repeat of the nail polish one from tiktok)

Frank would be a fantastic artist (have you seen the floorshow makeup??? /pos)

Brad is so smitten with Frank and he knows it. Even with heels on, Frank is still shorter than Brad (and normally pulls some shit like that shelf is so high, if only I had a tall man to reach up there for me *meanwhile he's looking Brad up and down*) and Brad is so down bad so he'll just do whatever shit Frank wants him to, within reason ofc. (How many letters in Brad? 4. How many letters in simp? Also 4.)

Rip Frank-N-Furter you would have loved Chrissy Chlapecka

(Frank my fave girlboss lyhlfjskgdkggkzyldl)

[faggotwalkwithme]

that time of year... (the layout is horrendous on purpose btw i thoguht it would be funny.)

ramblings below the cut again :]

january - jonmartin fanart,,,, i remember how much fun i had drawing this specifically their outfits :DD i still think its decent and i think its the piece i have with the most notes, which im grateful for but also like why

february - scenemo bingo and goth punk bluey fanart because i was awesome. i actually had my birthday (which was also that month) goth bluey themed. i think the art itself is kind of mid now especially bingo but the concept is awesome and more people should see my vision

march - i had no full art pieces :((((( so this is a jarthur doodle where they hold hands after arthur did something DIFFICULT!! i think its pretty cute. but it is just a doodle. sigh.

april - ASH WILLIAMS ?!?!?!?!?i think this is pretty cool tho the colours r kind of muted im a fan of the blood and the grey streak ... <3

may - self portrait of me for the malevolent zine 'this too shall pass'. im actually pretty happy with it, its so cute!

june - floorshow brad majors fanart. i was sooo gay. i am gay. im proud of it except for the face and background to be honest. i still get notes on it today and its really funny cuz its just other people being gay. happy with it

july - OLD MAN ASH WILLIAMS ?!?!?!?!?!? i remember i was watching ash vs evil dead and felt a little bit too homosexual and needed to get it out of my system. keep in mind this was still before i was insane about evil dead. i frankly think the body and the background suck ass and this drawing is BAD👎

august - laura palmer painting number 1. really quite happy with this. i like her a lot. just not so happy with the background, i think i couldve done it better. (i was trying to make it so that you could see the waiting room peeking out from cracks in the wall but that wasnt obvious and was just kind of stupid so like whateverrrr).

september - laura palmer painting number 2. i actually prefer this one, i put more work into it than the first one? it might not look as good but i was more independent with the colour picking and was doing a lot more of the reference from eye. i also think it looks prettier and i like how the hair turned out :))

october - this was a busy month for me so this is just a cringetober piece. self insert. me as an s-mart employee. UM.anyway.s. i think its cute but definitely my weakest piece on here apart from maybe the bluey art. woah wait i just realised i appear twice on this thing

november - dale cooper painting!!! im really happy with this i think it turned out really nice and pretty and that i captured how angelic he looks in that scene :)) im especially proud of the eyes.

december - ASH WILLIAMS X3?!?!?!?!?!!??!? this is pretty cute. literally judt drew it likke 2 day ago. hes cute

[incorrectrockyandshockyquotes]

Brad: Frank, "disdam" is not a word! You made it up.

Frank: It's a word!

Brad: Fine, use it in a sentence.

Frank: …You're no good in “disdam” floorshow!

[scatteredcloud]

HAT NIGHT!!!!!

I survived my first hat night and felt the most myself I have in such a long time and was complimented by people I really look up to

( Hat night is when we perform Rocky Horror but our mc will call SWITCH occasionally and we have to pull a new character at random and take over that role as quickly and seamlessly as we can )

Started the movie as “Eddie” so I was just doing props until the first switch was called. Pulled Columbia in time for Timewarp and managed to blind confidence my way through her little dance number (Older queen said that she could really see me as Columbia in the future because I sold it so well!!) . Switched again before the stripping and her honk which I had been looking forward to because it’s been echolalia in my head all week

“HONK! Iii’ve seen it!”

Pulled Rocky and had sometime to get wrapped up. Didn’t realize till I was onstage that I wrapped it exactly so that just my nipples would show. Lmao. I also missed my cue to get in the tank before the reveal so I pageant walked on stage and promptly laid on the floor which got a good laugh. Also mistimed the unwrapping because it takes so much longer than you’d think so I just danced with Riff and Mags for a bit. I was worried about Sword of Damocles but it went good. Switched soon after that and I became Janet for all of Hot Patootie which gave me some time to breathe.

There was another switch but I think I pulled Dr Scott so I stayed on stage from Janet (mostly nude) to hold the screens for the sex scenes. Hung out back stage for toucha and then there was another switch that landed me as Magenta for the dinner scene. Was super unsure what I was supposed to be doing so I stood around and looked cunty for a bit. ‘Poured wine’ and then pretended to spit in Dr Scott’s cup which also got a good laugh. There was another switch for You Better Wise Up Janet Weiss and I pulled Rocky so I mostly just showed up at the end to pose. Scrambled into heels and acorset grabbed a boa and ran back on for the first ever floorshow I’d performed. Made it through even though it was mostly deviated from the screen version but I was told that I sold it well enough and I’ll take that.

Fate is a cruel mistress and we were forced to do another switch in between Rose Tint and Wild Thing but luckily I pulled Brad so I didn’t need to change just reposition. Stayed Brad for the rest of the show and was FEELING my fantasy for Superheroes. Locked eyes with a couple audience members and it felt awesome commanding the stage (well, the movie theater aisle)

I’m just. Yayyyyy :] We had a great audience, I feel great about my performance, and I feel like really proved to the staff that I can handle anything they throw at me. Been learning Janet for awhile now but feeling a lot better about picking up other characters after tonight

[its-cripptid]

its beyond me, help me mommy!

[jackkal]

oh my god i love halloween

[magnuspng]

The Rocky Horror Pictureshow

[fashionisbreath]

Busted out a favorite of mine, Dr. Frank-n-Furter, for a event Saturday night and won the costume contest! • • • • • #drfranknfurter #franknfurter #rockyhorrorpictureshow #franknfurtercosplay #rocky #drscott #brad #janet #uhh #floorshow #sweettransvestite #glitterbeard #beardedqueen #dragcosplay #dragqueen #beardeddragqueen (at Bama Theatre)

[musictheory]

Planet Shament Janet (song analysis)

Planet Shament Janet is one of the most overlooked songs in the Rocky Horror Picture Show’s film adaptation but what does it reveal about the plot. It may seem that this song is Frank N Furter insulting Janet’s sexual ability but what if it told you it reveals the Transylvanian's true intentions on Earth or the fragility of Janet’s mental state. 

On one hand Planet Shament highlights the desperate situation that Brad, Doctor Scott and Janet are in. Repetition of the line “wise up Janet Weiss” is Frank N Furter truthfully expressing to Janet that the situation she is in is no longer one of sexual liberation rather a circumstance crafted by his own manipulation to aid his true intentions for coming to Earth. In verse 2 Richard O Brian uses the lyric “wound up like an e or first string” comparing Janet to the most fragile and on the verge to breaking string on a guitar. In Janet’s character at this point we know she is extremely fragile to the circumstance as she battles away the negative thoughts of being loyal to someone other than Brad along with being on the verge of breaking as her whole sheltered existence has been shattered right in front of her. Alternatively, perhaps this is a criticism of Janet’s naivety and self-centeredness which has been shown in abundance throughout the musical through materialistic and self-indulgent actions.

Yet it also shows the Transylvanians true intentions with the humans. In verse 2 the line “I’ve laid the seed it should be all you need” exposes the Transylvanians goal to replicate human DNA on the planet of Transexual Transylvania and threw assumptions we can infer that they would use them for sexual needs (gruesome i know). We know Frank was trying to find the secret of life however, his “accident” leads me to believe prior he understood little about human sex cells such as sperm and eggs and their importance on human life. Noticing how he seems to target Janet in this scene allows me to deduce that he’s using Janet's body to carry on his research. In verse 3 the placement of the dialogue is extremely important. I've noticed in many stage places they either do it before the song or not at all. Janet’s dialogue “we’re trapped” followed by Frank's response of “it's something you’ll get used to” emphasizes his intentions with Janet of caging her up like an animal to carry on his lustful experiments. 

A small deviation yet the quote “when we made it did you hear a bell ring” Foreshadows the events of the floorshow as Frank's time is limited to do his original mission on Earth.

(sorry this is rather short this song has got quite a few repetitive lyrics, but I tried my best (:    )

[vivithesatanicmechanic]

all of my Floorshow Brad Majors memes together

[strangely-incorrect]

floorshow brad: due to personal reasons i’ll be going feral

[mouser26]

Floorshow

🎶 Why don't you stay for the night? (night) Or maybe a bite? (bite) I could show you my favorite obsession I've been making a man With dark skin and good hands And he's good for relieving my tension 🎶

Storytime I have this weird yearly tradition where I scour youtube for videos of Rocky Horror's Rose Tint My World/The Floor Show and I evaluate the Slutty Brad’s (Don’t judge) Anyways this year I stumbled on at least one video featuring a Black Rocky Of course some fuckwit had to complain in comments that “WHy is the “blonde hair with a tan” guy black? That’s stupid.” To which my partner in RH depravity Queen commented

“Like man, just say you’re racist. It’ll take fewer words and someone won’t have to spend their valuable time explaining the casting call and freedom to change lyrics to fit. “

And came up with the above bolded lyric change.

So yeah In honor of Rocky Horror Picture Show turning 45 this year and just to say fuck you to racists enjoy Jazz in the part of Rocky Horror

October Art #14

[cagestark]

Rose-Tints My World

Anon asked for Peter wearing a corset and/or ballgown. This is probably not what they meant. 

Warnings: Peter fakes an orgasm onstage lmao. Alcohol, too. Also, this probably requires a semi-decent understanding of RHPS and the characters :/

Read here on AO3.

-

“Shots!” Ned shouts from the bathroom.

MJ sighs, putting down the eyeliner she’d been using to rim Peter’s eyes dark. They are in the kitchen because the light here in better than the light in the bathroom. May came home a half hour ago, took one look at Peter and MJ’s getup before throwing up her hands and retreating to her bedroom. Peter kind of wished he could do the same, watching MJ pour each of them a shot of tequila.

“The theater has a strict no-alcohol policy,” MJ says, rolling her eyes when Peter makes a face, shot glass held between his thin fingers. “If we don’t drink now, we don’t be drunk at all. Do you want to do this sober, Parker?”

Peter takes the shot. It tastes horrible. The salt they pour into their palms directly from the shaker doesn’t help. Much. While MJ is distracted, gagging, Peter picks up the handheld mirror beside them to look at himself and fuck, he gives a long, horrified groan.

“I can’t do this,” Peter mutters. His entire face is painted white with leftover makeup from Halloween, and his eyes and lips left a vibrant red. That’s the best of the costume, he thinks. The rest is worse: the black corset they’d bought from the women’s department at a lingerie store, the black thigh high stockings, the garters. The gloves. The heels. “Look at me, MJ. I can’t go out in public like this.”

“Peter, I swear to God,” she mutters. “Everyone is going to be dressed the way you are. Trust me. I went last year—”

“What?” Peter cries. “How?”

“I was invited, okay? And—”

“Shots!” Ned cries.

They both roll their eyes, pouring more tequila. This one isn’t as bad, actually. The first two must have burned Peter’s taste buds off.

“Anyway,” MJ says. “I went last year, and everyone dresses like this. Chad from your Women’s Studies class? You remember him?”

“Can’t forget him,” Peter mutters, only a little begrudgingly. Why did all the hot guys have to be straight and fucking jerks?

“He was dressed like this—only he didn’t look half as good. You’re the fucking twinkiest twink. You don’t even have chest hair.”

“I’m a late bloomer,” says Peter, crossing his arms over his exposed chest. His head feels light from the alcohol. How he’s going to walk in the heels, he has no idea. He holds the mirror up higher so that he can see his body better, and at least he has a good physique, because most of it is on display including a two inch section of chest-to-abs visible through the laces of the corset. When he speaks next, his voice is small. “Can I—can I at least have the blue feather boa?”

She pats his head condescendingly. “If you’re a good boy.”

“Shots!” Ned shouts.

“Are you taking all these shots back there, too?” MJ bellows.

There is the rumble of feet and then Ned is in the doorway, dressed in a leather jacket, working hard to get the fake cut on his eyebrow to drip blood. “Am I supposed to be?”

-

The Uber they call knows where they’re headed without the trio of them asking. Partly because MJ had entered the address before the guy got there, but also because these screenings of Rocky Horror Picture Show are pretty fucking famous by now, and that’s the only place they could be headed dressed like alien transvestites. At least it’s a warm night, he thinks while they all pile into the back of the SUV. At least he’s not shivering with all his bits on display.

“God, tonight is going to be great,” Ned says. He’s dressed like Eddie, right down to the alto saxophone that he borrowed off of his cousin for this purpose alone—under the condition that no one play it, and he doesn’t get it wet. Not guarantee-able things, according to MJ. “Are we meeting Tony there?”

“Tony?” Peter yelps. “Tony Stark? Physics class TA, Tony? Tell me there’s another Tony.”

“I doubt there’s another Tony, kid,” the Uber driver mutters up front.

“Thanks,” Peter snaps. He turns back to MJ, who looks stunning (in a very female way) as a colored Janet, wearing the character’s signature virginal white bra, tattered shirt, and prim skirt. Debauched. “You didn’t tell me that Tony Stark would be there—that we’d be meeting up with him. I’m wearing thigh highs and panties!”

“And he’s going to love it,” she says slyly, rummaging through the large tote of prompts they brought along for the show: rice to throw at the wedding scene, water pistols to shoot during the rain, a package of uncooked hotdogs—Jesus, if they got purse-snatched, the person would probably think that they were off their rockers. “You look fucking hot. I don’t know why you’re feeling shy all the sudden. Remember last Christmas when Rihanna was on the radio and you did that dance—”

“I’ve got the video if you need your memory jogged—” Ned supplies helpfully.

“I remember,” Peter says quickly, catching the raised eyebrows of the Uber driver glancing back through the mirror. “I just—I mean, I had a lot of sangria at that Christmas party.”

“You’ve had a lot of tequila tonight,” MJ sooths. “If you aren’t feeling it yet, you will be soon. Look, I’m not saying you need to fuck him tonight. I’m just saying that if you let your guard down even the slightest bit around the guy that you’ll be leading him by the cock before sunrise. Trust me. Will you trust me? Jesus. Here, drink this.”

She passes him a water bottle, but as soon as he opens it, the stench of alcohol hits him. “Is this nail polish remover?”

MJ laughs so hard her mascara runs and she has to redo it. But after a few long sips (and he’s almost positive it’s nail polish remover), he’s feeling even looser than he was before. Too much more and he’ll get sloppy, or worse, sick. He cuts himself off, capping the water bottle and tucking it back into the bag beside yesterday’s newspaper.

The Uber drops them off a block away, and they walk the last distance. It gives Peter a chance to get used to—everything. Being so exposed, feeling so many eyes on him. Some people whistle when he goes by, and he’s glad his face is painted so that they can’t see him flush in pleasure. When someone catcalls down to them from a balcony, he shimmies the feathered boa around his shoulders, shaking his flat chest and they hoot in delight.

MJ was right, too. Everyone is dressed up: corsets and thigh highs and high heels and exposed bras. It looks like the strangest collection of fetishists coming together, and the air is full of excitement that Peter is shivering. He feels drunk with it. Or maybe that’s just the alcohol. The eyes all over him feel as good as caresses, and he feels a stirring in his groin that there is no chance his underwear will hide—and oh fucking well. Tonight is about letting loose.

Getting into the theater is an entire affair. The place is packed with lookalikes: Magentas and Riff-Raffs and Columbias and Frankenfurters. There’s a blond guy who is doing a very good portrayal of Rocky, wearing nothing but golden panties, his muscular skin oiled and gleaming under the lights. His skin beckons Peter to touch.

But then it all comes to a stop, because Tony is there. Tony Stark, the senior that Peter has been crushing on since the professor of his Physics class introduced Tony as his TA for the year: the dark, fluffy hair, the whiskey eyes, the shadow of facial hair after the weekends when he comes stumbling in wearing sunglasses to disguise his hangover. There’s nothing about Tony that doesn’t get Peter hard, and tonight is no exception. He looks incredible dressed as Eddie, tight jeans, white t-shirt, black leather jacket clinging to his biceps. It’s so carelessly greaser, and Peter wonders if Tony drove his motorcycle here—the motorcycle Peter jerks himself off imagining Tony fucking him on—because that would be the cherry on top of this sin.

Tony’s smoking inside, though on a night like this, that’s probably the theater’s least concern. His face fucking lights up when he sees MJ, Ned, and Peter—Peter, who his eyes drag up and down unabashedly. It all comes rushing back then, like a movie pressed to play. Peter is dressed like Brad during the floorshow, dressed like kinky sex itself. And he looks good. Judging by the way Tony’s eyes grow wide and then narrow, the lids heavy…Tony knows too.

“Damn it, Janet,” he says around his cigarette, grasping MJ’s hand. “Was this a fucking set-up?”

“I wouldn’t have to be nefarious if other people wouldn’t be obtuse and stubborn and—”

“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” Peter says. “But I’m feeling a little insulted nevertheless—”

“Have we missed anything? The traffic was awful, I thought we were going to be late,” Ned chimes in.

“Nah,” Tony says. “They’re rounding up virgins.”

“Virgins?” Peter squeaks. Everyone turns to look at him. He tries not to look panicked. Surely his virginity isn’t tattooed on his forehead. Or at least, it wasn’t until he squeaked like a mouse caught between a cat’s paws. He looks around, feeling like Virgin-Police might suddenly appear with batons shaped like dildos to shame him for his chastity. “Wh-What do they want, you know, virgins for?”

“Virgins, as in, people who have never seen the show live before,” Tony says, eyes glittering brighter than the ember at the end of his cigarette. “They bring a bunch up on stage and make them fake orgasms—”

“We’ve got to get Peter up there,” MJ mutters under her breath, barely heard over the roar of the other patrons. She stands up on her toes to try to find the stage helpers who are rounding up virgins (so to speak).

“I’m sorry, I know I misheard you—"

“I’m getting you on that stage, Peter,” MJ says through her teeth. “And you’re going to fake it like that time you told me about with Flash Thompson behind the gymnasium—”

If Tony’s eyebrows climb any higher on his head, they’ll disappear into his hairline. He takes the cigarette out of his mouth to ask, “What’s all this about faking it with Flash Thompson—”

MJ snags one of the stage hands and points to Peter.

“No, no, no, no,” Peter is chanting under his breath. MJ grabs him by the feathered boa and pulls him a few feet away from where Ned and Tony are watching cautiously. She cups a hand around his ear—the closest they can get to privacy surrounded by other people—and whispers to him.

“Look over my shoulder right now. Look at Tony.” Peter does as she asks. It’s not hard. The guy is so fucking handsome, and for some reason, his eyes are glued to Peter’s legs—Peter has always had thin, shapely legs, and the hairs on his thighs are finer and blonder than they have any right to be. It almost looks like he shaves, thanks to the low lighting. “Tony can’t take his eyes off you. Look at the way he can’t stay still—you think he’s hiding a semi like you are? Don’t squawk at me, Peter, everybody can see you’re half-hard. He’s fucking thirsty for you. Get up there, pretend he’s sucking your cock, and give everybody a goddamn show. I guarantee he’ll be trying to go home with you before the night is through. Trust me, Parker. Trust me.”

She digs in her bag to hand him the water bottle. Groaning, he takes a generous sip, face scrunching. God, that’s horrible.

But it works. The alcohol, the rousing speech. That’s how he finds himself being ushered on stage with a dozen other ‘virgins’. When it’s announced that this is their first time seeing the show live, the crowd goes wild for them. Peter’s always had a bit of a thing for exhibition, for being the center of attention (Ned’s phone has a very incriminating video from last Christmas on it, after all). As soon as the lights and eyes are on him, it’s like a great sense of calm comes over him.

He tosses one end of the feathered boa over his shoulder like a brat might toss her hair, and whistles go up for him. He’s pretty sure that Tony is one of them, his figure barely visible beside Ned and MJ toward the back of the crowd.

Then they begin to go down the line, coaxing each virgin to fake an orgasm for the amusement of the room, and Peter can’t bother hiding how hard it makes him: the muscled boy dressed like Rocky gives out groans and tosses his head like he’s being given the blowjob of his life. A short, heavy-set girl dressed as Magenta makes the crowd go wild for her as she pants, palming at her breasts.

Too soon and not soon enough, it’s Peter’s turn.

-

“What are you playing at?” Tony asks MJ. He can’t stand still, chain smoking and dropping the butts in the pop cans people leave behind on the disused bar. The moment he saw Peter’s signature head of curls, he’d felt his heart drop to his shoes. His stomach tossed like a boat on the sea. He was known for his confident exterior, but no one knew about the deep-seeded anxiety he worked so hard to mask. Something about the baby-faced freshman put Tony on edge—made the blood in his brain go against the tide and head straight for his cock. “You told me it was just going to be us, that Peter was out of town visiting relatives.”

“That’s weird,” MJ mutters. The white she’s wearing emphasizes her warm, dark skin. If she weren’t so fucking sneaky and irritating, he’d probably try hard to get underneath her skirt. “That’s not true at all. Why would I say something like that?”

“You lying bitch,” Tony mutters, rolling his eyes when Leeds gasps. MJ looks pleased as a peach, regardless of his potty-mouth. “I told you to quit trying to push us together. He’s so fucking shy, you’ve probably scared him back into his shell.”

“Did you see what he’s wearing?” She asks flatly. “Parker isn’t shy. At all.”

Fuck yes, Tony had seen. It was indecent, little Peter Parker dressed as Brad. His legs were impossibly long in the black stockings and high heels (heels which actually made the kid taller than Tony, for once). The tight, satiny briefs that did nothing to disguise Peter’s package. The garters tempted Tony to run his fingers underneath them, to pull them away from the pale, hairless skin and let them snap back into place. The corset itself didn’t change Peter’s masculine figure, and the modesty panel was missing so that beneath the gaping laces was firm, pale skin. Who knew that Peter Parker had a fucking six-pack? More importantly: who knew but hadn’t told Tony?

How the hell MJ had convinced him to leave the apartment looking like sin incarnate, Tony would never know.

“Shut up,” Leeds says. “It’s Peter’s turn. Oh my god, I can’t watch this, this is like watching my brother get off or something—”

Tony turns his eyes to the stage just as the hot spotlight reaches Peter, bathing him in its glow. The kid’s eyes go half-lidded, not squinty. The crowd is shouting to goad him on, but the smile he gives is painfully patient, borderline coy. Tony swallows—his mouth is so fucking dry, but there’s nothing for him to wet it with.

Peter holds the microphone between both his palms, lovingly, like he might hold his cock. His eyes shut fully, and a sound comes out of him, picked up and amplified by the microphone, a low sound of pleasure that Tony might make when he eats one of his mom’s brownies after returning home on break. Tony watches raptly, cock hardening already and the kid hasn’t even done anything yet. Then Peter’s mouth parts in a breathy sigh, his head tilting back in the mimicry of ecstasy.

“Fuck,” Tony whispers. The whole world narrows down to that light beam on stage and the boy that’s caught in it. Peter’s breath hitches the way it might if someone was kissing at his neck and then decided to use their teeth, and a long whine comes out of him that has the auditorium howling. The kid’s chest is heaving like he’s having the fuck of his life, and then he lets loose a long, nearly pained groan that Tony can feel in his bones, he can see it all, Peter spread out beneath him, naked (okay maybe he’s still wearing those stockings), fingers gripping the sheets because Tony’s giving it to him so good—

On stage, one of Peter’s hands comes off of the microphone. He presses it against his heart like he’s trying to hold the organ still, but then his palm slips down, thumb catching on the laces of his corset, strumming them as he runs his hand lower and lower and fuck, there’s only one place it could be headed. There’s a ten in the kid’s black panties, no doubt he is at least half-hard, maybe more—and he runs his palm over his own erection. Right there on stage, with a hundred, two hundred eyes on him. With Tony’s eyes on him. The jolt it gives Tony makes him feel like it was his own cock being petted.

Peter pulls his hand back and then dips the tips of his fingers into the tops of the briefs, and the final noise he makes is somewhere between a shout and a cry, the perfect simulation of an incredible orgasm, and it makes Tony’s cock twitch in his pants.

The crowd loses its shit. Of course. And Tony, dazed as he is, barely is able to clap for the kid. MJ stands there the whole time, cell phone out and filming, shooting Tony these little fucking smug looks. His head is still spinning as the stage hands usher the virgins off stage, and Peter returns to them with damp skin, hot from the lights on stage, curls plastered to his forehead.

“How’d I do?” Peter asks, breathily.

“You melted his brain,” MJ says, face tilted toward her phone as she watches the video.

“I—she’s right.”

Peter’s eyes widen. “I—sorry. Is that a good thing?”

“It’s a very good thing,” Tony says, shifting on his feet and pulling at the crotch of his pants to adjust himself. Peter’s eyes drop to track the movement and his mouth parts a little, like the breath has been stolen from him. Tony knows then, that the image he had of innocent Peter Parker was only a misconception. This kid can handle his attention.

And if he wants it, he’s going to get it.

“You want to get out of here?” Tony asks.

Peter nods.

-

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